by Linda Fallon
Her hands trembled, and Daisy, seeing the reaction, placed a comforting hand over hers.
“It will be all right,” Daisy said, trying to sound reassuring but falling far short. “Lucien will be fine, and we’ll all get out of here, and you’ll have a wonderful wedding.”
“What if we don’t? What if nothing is ever fine again?” Eve asked, dangerously close to hysteria. “What if we never leave this place, what if Scrydan wins and Lucien dies, and we’re trapped here forever and …”
“Hush,” Katherine insisted softly. “If you let yourself become agitated this bastard Scrydan wins.”
“She’s right.” Unexpectedly, O’Hara knelt before Eve and laid a hand on her knee. Eve looked at that hand sharply, and it was withdrawn. “You are the key, Eve,” he said calmly. “You are the reason Lucien is still with us, and if he is able to beat Scrydan it will be thanks in no small part to you.” He smiled gently. “Lucien is hanging on against incredible odds because he loves you.”
Tears welled up in Eve’s eyes. Oh, she did not want to cry!
“I have to ask you for a favor,” O’Hara said in a soothing, soft voice. “Lucien is blocking Lionel and Hugh, somehow. Not entirely, but to a certain extent. He won’t let me near him, so I’m not sure if he can block me or not. Scrydan doesn’t want me to touch Lucien and see too much, and Lucien is angry over a silly little accident.”
“Accident?” Eve snapped.
O’Hara waved a dismissive hand. “We’ll discuss it later, if you like. The most important thing is, we need to know what’s happening inside Lucien’s mind, and I can’t get close enough to get a reading.” His blue-green eyes softened. “But he has recently touched you, Eve. Scrydan and Lucien both touched you.”
It was a delicate way of reminding her that she had just made love to a demon.
“If I can take your hand, maybe I can see. A little.” Still kneeling before her, O’Hara offered his hand. “It’s a long shot, but it might be all we have.”
“Leave her alone,” Daisy said protectively. “She doesn’t want you pawing her.”
O’Hara cast a weary glance at Daisy. “I don’t wish to paw anyone,” he said in a less serene voice than he had used to this point. Firelight danced over his face, as he glared at Daisy. This morning he had expressed an interest in Daisy; now he seemed irked with her. Apparently things were not going as he had hoped. Just as well. There was no time for romance in a situation like this one.
In spite of the fact that he knew they all had to remain calm, O’Hara’s jaw was tense and his lips were thinned. He needed a shave, as all the men did.
Eve noted with a sinking heart that O’Hara had gotten a haircut for the wedding. Even this scoundrel had put more time and thought into the preparations than Lucien had!
Daisy snorted, letting O’Hara and everyone else in the room know she did not believe his assertion that he had no intention of pawing anyone.
“It’s all right,” Eve said. After a moment’s hesitation, she laid her palm on O’Hara’s. He closed his fingers over her hand and looked into her eyes. She knew he now saw everything. Her memories, good and bad; her doubts and her love. He continued to hold her hand, even closing his eyes once and swaying slightly.
“Lucien should be gone by now,” he said, “but he’s hanging on because he doesn’t want Scrydan to hurt you. He’s fighting, deep inside, and it’s a constant battle. He’s doing his best to protect you.”
Eve’s hand began to tremble, but O’Hara held on tight. There was something else, something he didn’t say aloud. “Tonight,” he finally whispered, “Scrydan thought he had won. He thought Lucien was so weak he didn’t dare reappear. But he did. Lucien fought his way back because … because …”
She knew why, though even the rogue was too embarrassed to say so aloud. Lucien had come because Scrydan was inside her. He had fought his way to the surface in order to protect her.
“What can I do?” she whispered.
“Fear will feed Scrydan as it has for centuries,” O’Hara said. “You can show him no fear, Eve. You can feel no fear.”
“How is that possible?”
“I don’t know,” he whispered. Before he released her hand, he kissed the knuckles briefly. “I only know that in order to completely defeat Lucien, Scrydan must first defeat you.”
Everyone was talking about sleep. How could they? Daisy paced in the parlor. She might never sleep again.
Eve had gone upstairs to sit with Lucien. Hugh and Buster were with her. Katherine, still understandably upset, had headed for the kitchen more than an hour ago. When Daisy had offered to help, Katherine had told her not to bother. Garrick had gone with her, though, so she wouldn’t be alone.
That left Daisy here in the parlor with Lionel and O’Hara.
She continued to think that Lionel was a magnificent specimen of manliness. A Viking, a pirate, a strikingly beautiful figure of a man.
O’Hara would never be beautiful. He certainly wasn’t ugly, but next to Lionel he was almost ordinary. Except for his eyes, she amended silently. He had perfectly marvelous eyes that were intelligent and expressive.
Perhaps she had been hasty in dismissing O’Hara as a rogue. He had been very sweet to Eve, earlier in the evening, and he had certainly kept his calm during this crisis. She was almost positive that he must have a reasonable explanation for that mishap in which he’d behaved improperly with Eve.
Was there a proper explanation for putting one’s hand under a woman’s skirt?
She tried to turn her attention to Lionel. He was, by far, the superior of the two. There was something almost regal about his bearing. She could add “princely” to the list of descriptions that fit him.
O’Hara was just a man. A nice-looking, average height, man. No one would ever mistake him for a prince, or a Viking, or a pirate. A charlatan, perhaps. A salesman. A scoundrel. Definitely a scoundrel.
Right now, both men were solemn and thoughtful. Lionel stared into the fire. O’Hara paced. She didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that they were worried. Worried for everyone in the hotel, she imagined, but most especially they worried for Lucien. He was their friend, and one did not easily dismiss the sufferings of a friend.
“You never did tell me your given name, O’Hara,” she said, ceasing her own nervous pacing to sit on the sofa.
“What?” he turned to her, obviously surprised that she had spoken. Perhaps he was surprised that she had spoken to him.
“Your given name,” she repeated. “You never did share it with me.”
He waved her off. “The name my mother gave me isn’t important.”
“Surely your mother didn’t call you O’Hara.”
“Of course not.”
“What did she call you?”
“She called me her little sweetums,” he teased. “Why this sudden obsession with my name?”
“I’m merely curious,” she said. “And since I very well might die here in this awful haunted hotel, I think I should have my every curiosity resolved.”
O’Hara opened his mouth, started to say something, and then stopped with a shake of his head. “I can’t. It’s just too easy.”
“What’s too easy?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“Really, O’Hara …”
He took a step closer to her. “Let’s just say that when a beautiful woman speaks to a man about her piqued curiosity, his mind might take a decidedly forbidden turn.”
“Oh,” she said softly. So, he did think she was beautiful.
“What are you doing, Daisy?” O’Hara asked.
“I’m just trying to keep my mind occupied,” she explained, “so I won’t be thinking about everything that’s happened and get scared all over again. You did say that we should not be afraid.”
“I did,” he said softly.
“So, instead of sitting here deathly terrified that I’m going to die tonight and feeding this spirit’s fear, I decided to think upon your given name inste
ad.”
“What if I warn you that my given name is just as frightening as anything that lives in this hotel.”
She looked him in the eye. “Then I am all the more determined to know what it is.”
Lionel turned and said, “Yes, what is your given name? You’ve been nothing but O’Hara since the day I met you.”
Daisy almost jumped out of her seat. She had forgotten, for a moment, that Lionel was in the room!
“I’ll never tell,” O’Hara said, quite seriously.
Daisy frowned as she stared at Lionel. “You don’t know his given name either?”
“No,” he said simply.
“But you can know … everything, can’t you? You could look into his mind and see, if you wanted to know. Right?”
It was O’Hara who answered. “We have an agreement, among us. We don’t pry into one another’s lives or minds unless invited.”
This was an interesting turn of events. “Do you mean that you can turn off your abilities?”
O’Hara nodded. “Somewhat. It’s easier for Lionel than for me, but I’m learning. For the most part I simply don’t touch anyone without warning. Usually,” he added in a lowered voice.
So, she couldn’t cajole Lionel into telling her O’Hara’s given name.
Men were usually anxious to give Daisy Willard whatever she asked for, thinking that would impress her in some way. She was accustomed to asking for something and having it handed to her almost immediately.
“Your name can’t be that bad,” she said, growing annoyed. “And I do so want to know.”
“Why?” O’Hara grinned widely.
“I told you, I’m curious.”
He was not impressed.
“And besides, it’s silly for everyone to call you by your surname.”
“Silly?”
“Yes, silly.” She nodded her head once for emphasis.
O’Hara was enjoying this much too much. He could see very well that she wanted to know what his name was, and yet he withheld that tiny bit of insignificant information. “I’ll make you a deal,” he said smugly.
“A deal?”
“You give me your hand, and then I’ll tell you my name.”
Daisy clasped her hands tightly in her lap. She had seen how O’Hara looked into a person, first with Katherine and then with Eve. She didn’t want anyone to be able to look into her soul and her mind that way! What kinds of secrets would he see? Most people probably thought Daisy Willard had no secrets, but that wasn’t the case. She just hid those secrets very well.
If O’Hara took her hand, there would be no more secrets.
“I suppose O’Hara will have to do,” she said primly.
He dropped his hand, and his smile dimmed. “Just as I suspected.”
Daisy cast a quick glance at Lionel, who had returned his attention to the fire in the fireplace. He was incredibly psychic, according to Eve. Could he turn his gift toward her and uncover her secrets? She had thought that not to be a danger, since he was obviously a gentleman. Looking at him, she suspected he simply didn’t care enough to be interested in what she hid deep inside. Besides, he could turn the power off, when he wanted, he could control what and where he saw.
The way O’Hara stared at her, he most definitely cared. But she knew he would not force her to take his hand. He wanted her to lay her hand in his of her own free will.
She could never do that. Never.
The mood changed subtly when Katherine and Garrick returned from the kitchen. Garrick, who had jokingly asked Daisy to marry him several times, had been very nice to Katherine of late. Very nice. Still, Daisy couldn’t see them as a couple. Garrick was carefree and never seemed to take anything seriously, and Katherine had a tendency to be aloof and sometimes downright bitter.
Garrick was probably taking a special interest in Katherine since he was, after all, president of the Plummerville Ghost Society.
Katherine sat beside Daisy, and Garrick went to stand beside Lionel. He asked a whispered question, and Lionel shook his head quickly.
“Why not?” Garrick snapped. “For God’s sake, it’s what you do!”
All eyes turned to Lionel.
“Garrick,” Katherine said sharply. “I told you not to ask!”
“If that bastard is here, I don’t see why we can’t get rid of him now. Why do we need to wait until we get back to Plummerville?” Again Garrick turned to Lionel. “Isn’t that what you do for a living? You can do this.”
Lionel remained calm. “There are two very good reasons. The first one is Scrydan’s curse of this house. Spirits are trapped here. Imagine that the house is encased in a bubble, only this is not a bubble that will burst on its own. It’s sturdy, an effective prison.”
“So, when we leave the hotel Jerome will be trapped here?” Katherine asked, a touch of hope in her voice.
“I can’t be sure,” Lionel answered. “In order to free the trapped spirits in this house and defeat Scrydan, we’re going to have to find a way to burst that bubble, freeing all the spirits.”
Katherine settled back on the couch, looking almost defeated.
“But you could try,” Garrick said sharply.
“No,” Lionel said succinctly. “There’s also the issue of keeping our energy level low in order not to feed Scrydan. The process of ridding Katherine of her late husband’s ghost will be emotional and it will take a lot of energy. We don’t need to expend that energy only to have Scrydan suck it in and grow stronger.”
“Katherine,” Garrick said, turning to face the couch. “I’m sorry. I just want to help.”
She nodded her head. “That’s very sweet.”
Garrick had problems of his own, but he was apparently holding them inside. Since dinner and Lucien’s outrageous accusations and revelations, no one had mentioned the bit of news about Garrick’s mother not really being his mother. News like that had to hurt, especially when it was delivered in such a crude manner.
Daisy herself had never cared for Mrs. Hunt, a reclusive woman who always acted as if she were better than everyone else. Still, Garrick had spent his entire life believing her to be the woman who had brought him into this world. Was he relieved, just a little, to discover that the bitter woman was not his real mother? Or did he love her in spite of her faults, the way Daisy had loved her own mama? No matter, the news was a shock to him and everyone, but no one wanted to discuss the revelation. Not now.
Of course, no one had dared to mention that Lucien had suggested that a man in her bed was the cure for all Daisy’s own problems, either.
Not Lucien, she reminded herself. Scrydan. She shuddered at the very thought.
“Are you cold?” O’Hara asked. “I can fetch you a blanket, if you’d like.”
“No, that’s not necessary.” This chill had nothing to do with the winter weather. It was an icy cold that came from the bones outward. “Perhaps later, though. Would anyone mind terribly if I just stayed right here all night?” Her heart leapt. “I don’t want to go upstairs, and I don’t think I can sleep, anyway. I’d like to stay right here. I think we should all stay here. Together.”
“Good idea,” O’Hara said with a smile.
Nice eyes and a nice smile, Daisy conceded. A rather brilliant smile, in fact. Charming and roguish, perhaps, but definitely real and true, the way a smile should be. With a smile like that, O’Hara did seem to be beautiful, in his own coarse and rather masculine way.
Daisy was nothing if not practical. Yes, O’Hara was rather handsome, and charming, and when he spoke to her she always found herself feeling something. Anger, disquiet, a light laughter that crawled into her throat and her heart and stayed there. And yet, nothing could come of these unexpected feelings for O’Hara. She couldn’t possibly entertain a relationship of any kind with a man who had the ability to see into her very soul.
“I don’t think anyone wants to be alone tonight,” O’Hara said sensibly.
Daisy shuddered. Alone. In this haunted hotel. Oh, not even
for a moment! In fact, she needed to make a trip to the privy soon. Perhaps Katherine would like to go with her.
Nine
Lucien slept as if nothing were wrong. Eve watched over him. She would think it a peaceful sleep, if she didn’t know better. He didn’t toss and turn, he didn’t mumble in his sleep. There was no tension on his brow or in the way he breathed.
Two candles burned softly, one on the dresser and another on a bedside table. A low fire burned in the fireplace. Hugh had sent Buster on an errand, since Lucien was sleeping so deeply, but he had stayed. He didn’t want to leave her alone with Lucien. She didn’t want to be alone with Lucien! Not until he was himself again.
The man on the bed, wearing only his wrinkled trousers, didn’t move at all. There was only the rise and fall of his chest to indicate that he lived. The effects of the past few days showed on his pale face, in the dark stubble on his jaw. He looked thinner, somehow, too. Maybe even older.
Was it Lucien she watched? Deep down, where it mattered, was this the man she loved?
“How do we fix this?” she whispered.
Hugh laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’ll find a way.”
But what if they didn’t find a way? As she watched Lucien sleep her heart beat too hard, and a raging anger began to grow. Why had he come here in the first place? All he’d had to do was stay in town for a couple of days, instead of running off to explore a haunted hotel. He should’ve stayed in Plummerville. He never should have come to this place alone. If he had stayed in town they would be married now, sleeping together in their own home, making plans for the future. Now they were here, and she didn’t know if they had a future or not.
“It’s not Lucien’s fault,” Hugh said in a low voice. Again, he was defending Lucien!
Eve closed her eyes. With his hand on her shoulder, of course Hugh knew exactly how she felt! He was not as talented as O’Hara or Lionel, but he wasn’t without gifts of his own.
“Why couldn’t I fall in love with an ordinary man?”
“An ordinary man would bore you.”
“You make me sound callous.”
“No,” Hugh said apologetically. “It’s just that you’re not exactly an ordinary woman.”
