Shivers Box Set: Darkening Around MeLegacy of DarknessThe Devil's EyeBlack Rose (Shivers (Harlequin E))

by Barbara J. Hancock

  Eleri’s expression morphed from sad resignation to wide-eyed shock. “You did remember something.”

  Brynn shook her head. “The only thing that seeing the bog in person did was confirm exactly where it happened.”

  “Then how can you know it wasn’t me?”

  “I remember being in the water.” Anxiety built in her chest, memories flitting through her mind. “I remember hands pushing me under.”

  Eleri leaned forward, eyes big and bright. “Who was it?”

  “I don’t know who, but I remember the sensation, the size and weight of those hands.” She drew a deep breath, struggling to slow her pulse racing in her ears. “Those hands belonged to an adult. It wasn’t you, Eleri.”

  Her sister let out a brittle chuckle and she shook her head, dropping her gaze to the floor. “I shouldn’t have brought you here, disrupted your entire life. I’ve dragged you into this mess and all of it for nothing.”

  “Not for nothing. I just told you, I know it wasn’t you. I can tell Harding, Paskin or anyone else.”

  Eleri reached up and gripped the back of her neck with both hands. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’re saying, what you’re willing to say, but if you don’t know who did try to drown you, Harding won’t believe a word. Hell, even if you could tell him, he still might not believe you.”

  She thought of the articles she’d read, the crazy accusations, the terrible things Thomas Grady said about her. Had Brynn stayed, would she have wound up with the same rumors connected to her name? Would people have called her The Witch of Stonecliff?

  “Will you leave now?” Eleri asked, dragging Brynn from her dark thoughts.

  She didn’t have an answer. Her head spun like an amusement park ride with more questions about the people she’d come from than when she’d arrived. She tried to reconcile the woman who had written to her on her birthday every year to the woman Eleri said locked her in a cellar.

  “Were you telling the truth about Meris?” Brynn asked.

  Eleri nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  Why did she even bother asking? It wasn’t like Eleri hadn’t lied to her before. So who would tell her honestly about her mother? Certainly not her father. Mrs. Voyle had yet to speak a kind word to her; she doubted she’d be willing to answer any of Brynn’s questions. Maybe Hugh Warlow, but the man likely wouldn’t tell her anything without her father’s approval. So whom did that leave?

  Dylis Paskin, maybe? She claimed to have been friends with Meris. Though, the woman had a clear and understandable bias against Eleri—understandable if her sister had in fact killed their son.

  How much of Eleri’s story did she believe?

  “I’ll stay one more day,” she said. After all, she’d chased after Eleri through the woods instead of changing her flight like she’d planned. Tomorrow she’d speak with Dylis and at least she would put the doubt Eleri had created to rest.

  * * *

  Brynn jerked awake, but didn’t know why. A dream, maybe. A noise? She strained her ears, but only silence greeted her and a growing sense of unease.

  She burrowed deeper under the blankets to ward off the frigid chill in the room. The fire had burned down to a thin orange glow—the only light in the otherwise inky black.

  Why was the room dark? She’d gone to sleep with the lights on. Brynn stiffened in her bed, sleepiness vanishing.

  The smell teased her nose faintly at first, then thickened, filling her nasal passages and her mouth until she was nearly choking on that putrid stink. Wet, snuffling breaths rose from out of the black.

  Blinding fear pierced her chest, stealing her breath and turning her insides soft. She jerked upright, scanned the darkness. A man’s shadow stood at the end of her bed, opaque black even against the dark, and two red eyes trained on her.

  She scrambled onto her knees and grabbed for the lamp. Her fingers twisted the switch with a click, but nothing happened. The room remained dark.

  What the hell?

  Panic burst inside Brynn. Her hand shook as she turned the switch again. She tried again. Still nothing.

  Gurgling breaths drew closer. She jerked her head around as the thing climbed onto the end of the mattress. Her breath lodged in her throat, insides icing over. If it touched her, she’d lose her mind.

  Scrambling off the bed, Brynn’s foot tangled in the covers, sending her sprawling across the floor. Her palms slapped against the rough wood. Her knee hit with a hard whack, sharp pain shooting up her thigh. She let out a muffled sob, but didn’t stop. She hobbled as fast as she could across the room and hit the switch for the chandelier, but the light didn’t come on.

  “Shit,” she whispered. White fear streaked though her like lightning. She glanced over her shoulder. That thing moved closer, sliding over the floor like a living oil slick, red stare boring into her. She yanked open her bedroom door and rushed into the hall.

  Darkness wrapped around her, but she didn’t stop to look for a light. She half ran, half limped toward the stairs, pressing one hand to the wall to guide her.

  Children’s laughter chimed from the black. Footsteps ran past her, cool air sweeping against her skin and stippling her flesh with goose bumps. Mind-numbing fear closed in around her, eclipsing every coherent thought except to get the hell out of there.

  At last her fingers brushed the smooth, wood newel post of the stairs. Moonlight filtered through the windows in the front door, leaving the foyer gray and shadowy. She started down the steps, but a cold weight slammed into her back. Her foot slipped on the on the tread, her world tilted and she tumbled into the darkness.

  Chapter Twelve

  The wood stairs rose up fast to meet Brynn. She snaked out an arm, tangling it around the rail and catching herself before she lost her footing entirely. Her body jerked hard against the thick wood. Dull pain bloomed in her ribs and along the back of her arm.

  Low, snuffling breaths drifted through the darkness, growing louder. That thing was following her.

  Panic squeezed her throat. She forced her feet forward, down the stairs again, holding tight to the rail. As soon as she hit the foyer, she bolted to the front doors, yanked them open and staggered out into the night. Collapsing to her knees on the cold gravel, her body shook with gasping sobs.

  She was out. Thank God, she was out.

  “Brynn?” At the sound of a man’s voice, Brynn’s pulse jumped. She looked up at Reece standing over her. “Are you all right?”

  He squatted beside her, features harsh under the silvery moonlight. Was she? She wasn’t sure. She glanced back at the dark house looming above her, deceivingly quiet against a black sky filled with glittery stars. Her heart slammed against her chest like it might burst free. Her knee throbbed, and so did her shoulder. Not that she could articulate any of that through her ragged breathing.

  What was he doing out here in the middle of the night, anyway? Could it have something to do with what had been going on inside? Maybe trying to make her think she was crazy.

  “Is…is it you?” She squeaked. “Are you the one doing this?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “The shadows, the voices, are you doing it?” With her adrenaline dissipating, she finally noticed the icy sea air whipping at her bare legs and arms. Frigid chills raced over her aching body. Her teeth chattered.

  “Brynn, I swear I don’t know what you mean, but we need to get you inside before you freeze.”

  Gingerly, he gripped her elbow and helped her to her feet. Fresh agony screamed from her knee and she bit her lip to hold back a whimper. She must have twisted it when she fell. She grabbed hold of his jacket to steady herself.

  “I…I fell…twice, actually. Can we sit, and I’ll explai—”

  He didn’t give her a chance to finish. With a muttered curse, he scooped her up in his arms and strode back inside the manor.

  “Wait.” Brynn wrapped her arms tight around his neck, every muscle in her body going rigid. “There’s something
in there.”

  “You’re choking me,” he croaked, walking into the hall. She loosened her hold, but the tension gripping her remained.

  Uneasy silence wrapped around them as if the house were holding its breath, drawing them in, refusing to utter even the slightest creak in case it chased them away. The laughter, voices, footsteps and shadows had all gone, but something lingered. Malignant energy itched along her skin.

  A slumbering monster, waiting to swallow you.

  “Do you feel anything?” she whispered, and winced. Even her soft words were too loud in the eerie quiet.

  “We’ll talk in your room,” Reece murmured. He carried her upstairs and down the hall. She wanted to argue, beg him to take her back to his apartment, but some perverse side of her wanted him to see the shadow man. Validation to prove she wasn’t losing her mind.

  Her bedroom door was still open, just as she’d left it. The room was dark except for the flickering glow from the fireplace. Brynn’s gaze darted from one wall to the next, searching for strange shadows. She inhaled deeply, for the telltale stink of rot, but only the faint scent of wood smoke hung in the air.

  Reece carefully deposited her on the bed. She tried to straighten her sore knee, but quick pain bolted up her leg.

  “Wait.” He grabbed one of her pillows and tucked it under her knee. “This will support it.”

  She relaxed her leg. No pain, this time.

  “Better?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Thanks.”

  He reached for the lamp next to her bed and a soft click filled the quiet, but the light remained dark. With a muttered curse, his hand slid under the shade. “The bulb’s gone.”

  Her heart stuttered in her chest. “It can’t be. I fell asleep with it on.”

  He walked away from the bed; Brynn sat up straight ready to scurry after him—sore knee or not—but he jerked around and pointed at her, his frame little more than a shadow in the dim room. “Don’t move. Stay off your knee.”

  “Don’t leave me alone in here.” She cringed at the pathetic pleading in her voice.

  “I won’t.” His tone softened. “What did you see, Brynn?”

  “You said the place isn’t haunted, but I keep seeing things. Does that mean I’m crazy?”

  He clicked one of the lamps next to the sofa, but it remained dark. “You don’t believe me, anyway. Why should what I say matter?”

  Guilt twisted inside her. “There’s no such thing as ghosts. How can you—or anyone—see something that’s not real? But I keep seeing things, hearing things, and they seem pretty damn real.”

  He moved on to another lamp. “Just tell me what you saw.”

  She let out a shaky breath then described the shadows and voices. “There’s a smell that comes with them, mossy, sour. My grandmother used to have a container garden on her patio. In spring she changed the soil and the old earth had a horrible, sour stink. Every time I’ve seen those shadows that stench comes first.”

  “All the bulbs have been taken out of these,” Reece told her, and started for the bathroom. “How many times have you seen these shadows?”

  “I’ve seen the man twice in my room, smaller shadows once.” Absently, she rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand. “God, I sound crazy.”

  “I speak to the dead. I’m the last one to say who’s mad.” He flipped the switch and the bathroom filled with light. “That’s a start.”

  “I should have gone in there. I might have saved myself a fall down the stairs.”

  Even in the soft bathroom light, Brynn could see his brows pull together in a frown.

  “They go away when I turn on the lights,” she explained.

  Reece crossed over to the switch for the chandelier. Angling his head so he could use the bathroom light to see, he inspected the buttons. “Do you have a paperclip, or pen, or something long and thin? There’s something jammed in here.”

  “A nail file in my makeup bag on the bathroom counter.”

  He disappeared into the bathroom, emerged with her file and picked at the switch. “Got it.”

  Electric light filled her room. Relief trickled over her and some of the tension gripping her eased.

  Reece returned to her bed and held out a tiny piece of black plastic in the palm of his hand. “Someone wedged this in the switch.”

  “And took out all the lightbulbs from my lamps while I slept.” A shudder crawled over her skin. Whoever had been in her room could have done anything to her.

  “Someone flesh and blood and very much alive, who knows enough about your shadows to make sure you couldn’t chase them away.”

  Brynn wrapped her arms around her middle. Why? To scare her off, or something worse? She frowned. “Why were you outside in the middle of the night?”

  “I was coming into the house to sleep on your settee again.” He shot her a humorless grin. “You might not take warnings about your life seriously, but I do. I had to wait for the house to go dark first.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Past midnight now, but it was half-past eleven when I left my flat.”

  She hadn’t been asleep for long, and if Reece waited a few minutes after the house went dark to start inside, those shadows had come out as soon has her lights had been tampered with. “Do you know what these things are? What they could do to me?”

  Reece shook his head. “I’ve never dealt with anything like what you’ve described. Usually when the dead sense someone like me, they can’t wait to make contact.”

  Despite the nerves twisting inside her, she smirked. “You sound slighted.”

  “Maybe I am. I need to see it.”

  “What?” She tensed, and stabbing pain shot up her leg.

  “You’re knee’s still bothering you?” he asked, and sat next to her on the edge of her bed.

  “Only when I move.” She waved her hand dismissively, her knee the least of her concerns. “When you say you need to see it, what exactly did you have in mind?”

  “Let’s have a look at you, then we’ll worry about ghost hunting.”

  Oh, she did not like the sound of that. She started to tell him so, but he gingerly gripped her calf and a low charge hummed along her skin.

  How could she react to him with everything going on? She wished she knew. Those deft fingers trailing her skin lit a slow pulse at her core.

  “It’s okay. I just twisted it.” She tried to tug her leg from his touch, but sharp pain twinged under her kneecap. She winced.

  He shot her a doubtful look. “It needs ice.”

  Carefully, he set her leg back on the pillow, and started for the door. Panic welled inside her, chasing away all those warm tingly feelings. “Where are you going?”

  “Down to the kitchen. I’ll just be a few minutes. You’ll be fine.” He shot a quick grin at her over his shoulder before he slipped into the hall.

  With Reece gone, Brynn released a slow breath and shook her head. God, she’d become clingy over the past twelve hours. She needed to get herself under control.

  What if something happened to him? Or whoever had tampered with her lights came back? Or that ghost boy’s warning came true?

  Did this mean she believed Reece could see ghosts? Well, she was definitely seeing things, so why not him, too?

  The door clicked open and Reece slipped inside with a bag of frozen peas in one hand.

  “Hungry?” she asked.

  “This will fit better against your knee than ice, and it’s just as cold.” He wrapped the bag in a towel from the bathroom and carefully placed the bundle on her knee.

  “Thanks.” She couldn’t remember anyone taking care of her like this, not since she was small, not even Zack. To be fair, she’d never been pushed down the stairs by a ghost while they’d been dating.

  She tried to imagine his reaction if she’d told him this story. He’d have checked her into a mental ward by now.

  “How come you believe me?” Brynn asked.

  Reece sat on the edge of the bed ne
xt to her, his thigh brushing hers. A light flutter tickled low inside her. “Why wouldn’t I? I’ve seen things no one else can all my life.”

  “Exactly.” She tilted her head and leaned closer, studying his features. “You see ghosts, but you’ve never seen the things I have, and you still believe me.”

  He shrugged and tucked her hair behind her ear, a delicious shiver trailing his fingertip. “You don’t strike me as prone to telling tales. Does it show intelligence?”

  She frowned. “I haven’t asked it to take an IQ test or anything.”

  Reece smirked. “Does it interact with you, or does just do its own thing like you’re not even there?”

  She remembered the thing crawling toward her on the bed, the wet snuffling noises as it drew closer. “It scares me. When it looks at me, it radiates evil, and it pushed me down the stairs.”

  “You’re certain your ghost pushed you and not a living person?” Reece asked.

  She nodded. “It was more like a force than a touch, if that makes sense.”

  “I want to turn out the lights, see if it will come out again.”

  Her pulse jumped. “Now?”

  “I’m a shit for asking, but if this thing only manifests with you here, I need you with me. We’ve the lights working now, and I swear I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “Can you make it leave?”

  He shrugged. “I won’t know until I’ve seen it.”

  She sighed and shrugged. “Okay.”

  “Right.” He stood and crossed the room to the switch on the wall. “Ready for lights out?”

  Fear coiled tight in her belly. Not even close. But she nodded anyway. He hit the button and plunged them into darkness.

  Every muscle in Brynn’s body tensed. Her gaze shot from one end of the black room to the other, waiting for the shadow man to burst from the darkness. Minutes ticked by and nothing happened. The room remained silent, only the dull sound of smoldering wood from the fireplace in cold air.

  She wrapped her arms around her middle and leaned back against the pillows. “Reece?”

  “I’m right here.” The mattress dipped and he settled beside her. “Try to relax. It could be a while—if at all.”