by Zoey Marcel
Joaquin squeezed her harder. “I’m not fucking crazy, Dakarai!”
She had a strong case against him.
“You remember her, too, and that were-tiger. What was his name again?”
Dakarai appeared to search for the answer before he spoke. “I believe his name was Nex, but they were never here.”
“Did you guys dream about these people?” Jill asked in a squeaky voice that would have made a mouse feel superior.
“They were real!” Joaquin bellowed, embers of rage streaked across his steely expression. “The were-tiger had a Scottish accent, and the woman, Claire was…” He paused and his eyes welled. “Why do I have memories of people who don’t exist? You did this.”
Dakarai stepped closer. “We don’t know that it was her.”
“That’s bullshit!” Joaquin growled before glaring down at her. “We’ve had this conversation before.”
Jill blinked at him, wanting to kick the lunatic in the nuts and run, but the homicidal look on his lethal face made her question the wisdom in such an option. “We have? I have no memory of this.”
“You brought this hex on us!” Joaquin slammed her against the wall again when she tried to move. “I don’t know how or what you did, but you’d better fix this.”
Dakarai chimed in. “We are not the only ones who feel like we are losing our minds. Ask around town, Mrs. Easton, and you will see that something is not right and that others have or lack certain memories of people who never existed.”
They were utterly bonkers. “I will. Just please let go of me.”
“You’d better fix this!” Joaquin bellowed at her. “I have visions of the were-tiger on a killing rampage and Claire is in a dungeon.” His eyes turned deadly. “You had better fix this, because if you don’t…no cop in town can save you.”
Jill shuddered in horror as he let her go and started to walk off with Dakarai. Oh my god, they were frigging nuts.
“I do not want to have this conversation with you again,” Joaquin told her before leaving with Dakarai.
She shivered, unable to stop her hands from shaking as she hurried off and answered her ringing cell phone. “Hello?”
“Hi, this is Amber from Sultry Salon & Spa. I’m calling about the facial appointment you made with Callie.”
“Yeah, I remember. I’ll be there.”
Amber sounded confused. “That’s why I’m calling. I’m not sure who you talked to, but there’s nobody by that name employed here.”
Jill was baffled. What the hell was wrong with everybody? Had everyone in town lost it but her? “Yeah. Callie Spencer. She did my sister’s makeup at her wedding. I spoke with her the other day and made an appointment.”
Amber sounded even more perplexed. “Maybe you heard the name wrong. We’ve never had anyone by that name here working for us. If you’d like to make an appointment with someone else—”
“No thanks. That’s all right. Thank you for calling.” Jill hung up, getting goose bumps.
What the fuck?
She headed to the magic shop to ask Callie’s boyfriend, Cameron Hunter, whether or not Callie Spencer worked at another salon now.
“Hi there, Mrs. Easton, isn’t it?” he greeted her when she walked in.
“Yeah, but you can call me Jill.”
“What can I get for you, Jill?”
“I was just wondering where your girlfriend, Callie, worked now.”
He looked confused. “I don’t have a girlfriend at the moment, and I’m not sure who Callie is.”
Jill’s mouth fell open. “Callie Spencer, one of your girlfriends.”
He got a crooked grin. “One of my girlfriends? I never had two before.”
“Yes, you did!” she shrieked. “Callie and Hilary.”
“Who the heck is Hilary?”
“That quirky Scottish witch who works here with you.”
He shrugged, still seeming perplexed. “I work alone, Jill. I don’t know who you’re talking about. I wish I did.”
She wanted to flee town screaming, or clutch a cross in panic. This was way too freakin’ eerie. Her eyes darted over to something she saw on a bookshelf. A picture appeared and then disappeared before flickering in and out of focus again. It was a picture of Cameron, Callie, and Hilary together.
She pointed. “What about that picture of you with them?”
He turned to look at where she pointed. “What picture?”
He couldn’t see it. Her eyes welled and she wanted to hide in Ben’s arms for safety and reassurance.
Cameron turned to her again, seeming concerned. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine. Thanks.” Jill hurried out of the store, dialing her sister’s number. Surely Chanel still had her faculties in order even if everyone else in Temptation was losing it.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Chanel, it’s Jill. Listen, do you have the number of that girl, Callie, who did the makeup at your wedding?”
There was a pause on the other end. “Jill, I did my own makeup at my wedding. You should know. You were in the room watching me while I did it.”
Chills raced up and down her spine. What sort of twisted mind-fuck was this?
Chapter Nine:
Paying the Piper
Ben sat at his desk, trying not to think about the Shaughnessy asshole’s bastard kid. God, she looked like him. It fucked with his head too much. He’d spent the night with Neil, but he’d texted Jill to let her know he loved her, knowing that she’d need to hear it.
She texted him a little bit ago to say she had a bad feeling and wanted him to come home. Maybe in a perfect world he could just shoot off from work after having only been there a few hours, but in reality he had shit to get to.
Everything will be fine, love. You’re just paranoid because we had an argument.
She texted back No. I’m really scared, Ben. I have this really bad feeling like a premonition. Please come home and hold me.
He’d heard of feminine intuition, but this wasn’t a drug raid or anything. Today was just about transporting prisoners to a bigger facility. No big deal. They were all in chains and he and the other guys would be armed. Jill always worried whenever he transported prisoners. She didn’t like the idea of him surrounded by criminals. He didn’t like it either, but he’d gotten used to it after all these years.
I’d love to be there with you, Jill, but I have work to do. I’ll hold you tonight.
Promise?
I promise.
You won’t spend the night with Neil? You’ll come back to me?
He smiled as he texted his reply. I’ll always come back to you, sunshine.
Mark Montego walked in just then as Ben put his cell phone away. “You ready?”
Ben stood and got his gun. “Yeah, I’m ready. You’re on patrol duty today, right?”
“Right.”
He noticed Mark’s distracted expression. “Something on your mind?”
“Huh? I was just trying to figure something out.”
“What’s that?”
“Why I have memories of things that never happened.”
Ben gave him a mocking half smile. “How’s that?”
Mark shook his head, seeming down. “I don’t know. I keep having these flashbacks or something of this woman I used to know who died centuries ago. Morrigan Weaver. I have memories of her coming back to me, but they never happened, because she died a long time ago.”
“You mean like a dream?”
“No, like a memory that I never lived. That’s not all. I also have memories of this guy, Jack. In these visions he’s my best friend and apparently a werewolf like me. We have this permanent ménage thing going with Morrigan.” Mark looked troubled. “Morrigan’s dead, Ben. She died a long time ago, and I don’t have a clue who this Jack guy is. Why do I keep thinking about them?”
Ben shrugged. “Not sure. I’ve got to get going.”
“Yeah, go ahead. Didn’t mean to distract you.”
“You coul
d always see a therapist or a doctor.” Ben stopped in the doorway. “It was probably just a dream, though. You don’t strike me as a ménage kind of guy. Next thing you know you’ll be telling me you’re bi.”
Mark gave an uneasy chuckle. “Well, I’m not, but in these visions…I was with that Jack guy.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes with a small half smile. “Maybe you’re right. I probably just dreamed it. I never would have shared Morrigan with another man, and I sure as hell wouldn’t sleep with another guy. That’s just wrong.”
Ben cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I’ve got to run. See you later.”
* * * *
Allan Sloane readied his weapon. He figured a grenade launcher ought to blow the motherfucking bus to hell. He’d fled Wyoming after beating the shit out of Jill Easton. He knew the cops were looking for him, so he’d gone back to Southern California for a few weeks. He knew it was risky since he was wanted in that state as well, but he liked the weather and knew the law-enforcing fuckers wouldn’t be expecting him to be dumb enough to return to a state he’d committed rapes and murders in.
Well, the joke was on those idiots, because he was smart enough to do what they thought he wasn’t dumb enough to do, and no one was any wiser.
During his hiding out these past few weeks in Riverside, he’d seen a young woman at the Laundromat. She’d looked to be somewhere in her twenties, and the slender brunette captivated him with her cutesy voice and her sweet doe eyes. She was pretty in her own simple kind of way, but it was her apparent innocence and her propensity to trust strangers that had made him decide to make her his next target.
They’d made small talk and after she left he’d gotten to work spying on her. Her name was Ivy Covington and she was a scientist. She was also the daughter of Piper Covington, who was a friend of Jill Easton. What a small world it was.
He’d had the pleasure of assaulting the sheriff’s wife, but some crazy-ass leopard had attacked him before he could really hurt Jill. Pity. She made the most intoxicating sounds when he made her suffer. It got him hard just thinking about it.
He wondered if his latest attraction, Ivy Covington, was a virgin or not. He could only imagine the rush he’d feel when he inspired terror in the naive woman. He’d followed her home and she hadn’t had a clue he was there. One of these nights he’d break into her house and have his barbaric way with her.
The friendly cutie probably didn’t even own a gun. Lucky for him. He’d bring his own to convince her that screaming wouldn’t be in her best interest.
But he’d drag it out for a while to terrify her. First he’d make obscene calls and send her flowers with explicit, threatening messages. Then he’d go silent and when she thought all was well again, he’d make his deadly move.
She was so slender. Overpowering her would be easy and then he’d put the poor thing out of her misery when he was done with her. She’d be his tenth victim. Double digits. He wanted their time together to be extra special. Something he’d always remember.
But he’d get around to that. First he had to kill the fucking sheriff of Temptation, Wyoming.
* * * *
Jill was surprised when she opened the door and saw one of her husband’s deputies standing on the porch. “Mark, what are you doing here?”
Mark Montego looked solemn and uncomfortable. In truth his expression resembled the sort of tragic reflection one might witness on a soldier’s face at the funeral of a veteran. His lips parted and with the way his glassy eyes misted, she knew.
“Is something wrong?”
Please, God, no.
Mark swallowed, seeming like he tried to find the words. “There was a wreck.”
She quit breathing and her heart slammed harder in her chest than she could remember before all her focus honed in on what he said. If her heart had stopped beating, she’d never know. This wasn’t happening. Mark wasn’t really here. She was dreaming. Ben was okay. He had to be.
Mark collected himself. “We found the bus that was transporting prisoners. We’re not sure what happened yet. It’s being investigated, but it looks like the bus exploded.”
Her heart must have still been beating a second ago. Hearing his words made it stop suddenly. She mentally willed herself to wake up from this nightmare. “Ben?”
The pain twisting Mark’s face served as a knife that in turn twisted in her chest and knotted her stomach with insane worry. “He didn’t make it.”
A cold, surreal wave enveloped her in a spine-tingling embrace.
“No one made it, Mrs. Easton.” Mark’s voice caught and he had to take a gulp before continuing. “From the way it looks it was instantaneous. He probably didn’t even know what was happening and didn’t feel any pain. I’m truly sorry.”
Shock strangled her until she was dead inside and numb all over. The words weren’t real, they didn’t compute. Her heart rejected them. Her brain shut down. This wasn’t happening.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” Mark’s eyes were glassy with grief. Men generally didn’t cry unless they had a good reason to…like the death of a close friend.
Jill shook her head. She was numb like in a dream. It must be. Dreams could trick her good, but she couldn’t feel in them, couldn’t scream, didn’t hurt when she should have during a nightmare.
Mark sounded choked up just before he turned to leave. “If there’s anything I can do, let me know. I’m very sorry. Ben was a good man. He didn’t deserve that.”
Ben was a good man…past tense. The sound of Mark’s shoes thudded on the steps as he walked away. Sounds weren’t that loud in dreams, voices to be sure, but not background noise.
Moisture welled in her eyes and they burned, like the worst of sunburns they hurt her with no regard for her silent pleas for mercy. She swallowed down a lump in her throat and it was painful, so painful. Dreams didn’t allow her to feel this kind of pain. The numbness was vanishing, yielding to the invisible victor of affliction. Her chest seized as sharpness like a blade slashed across the susceptible organ within that had ceased its beating upon receiving the unfathomable news.
Jill closed the door, barely remembering to lock it. She stared into some other realm but saw nothing. A silent, meaningless void presented itself, an existence that lacked any substance. It was the future and it was ugly in its ambiguity, its promise of hollow days and sleepless nights.
Her chest constricted and she saw nothing through the flood of tears spilling through her eyes, nothing but her shattered heart squeezing in anguish even tighter than her closed eyelids. Her palm covered her face to comfort the burn in her saturated eyes while her other hand clutched her aching chest.
Her stomach felt like it had been kicked. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t process. She wrapped her arms around her midsection trying to find relief and convince herself this wasn’t real. Too many parts were in pain and she only had two hands to try to comfort them. She hurt all over, wailing and silently reaching for the numbness that had protected her at first from this unconscionable nightmare.
Wake up. Please wake up.
She didn’t wake up.
* * * *
Neil walked into Jill’s living room, trying to keep from crying. It had been several days since Ben’s funeral, but Neil had promised himself he’d hold it together today to be sure Jill had a semi-decent birthday. He walked into the kitchen where she was scrubbing a pan furiously, almost in anger to keep from losing it.
Pasadena and Coral walked in. “Mommy, we drew you a picture for your birthday.”
Jill dried her hands off and turned to face them with a convincing smile he knew was forced. “You did? How thoughtful. Let me see.” She took the picture from them and studied it. “Is it a fairy with a hat?”
Pasadena shook her head with a sad half smile. “It’s Daddy.”
“He’s an angel,” Coral informed her.
Jill broke down and turned her back to them for a second with her hand over her mouth.
Neil’s heart clenched
.
Pasadena frowned. “Don’t you like it, Mommy?”
Jill sniffled and wiped her nose on her arm before turning to face them. “I love it. Thank you.”
She hugged them both tight and gave Neil a weak smile.
“Are you girls ready to go to the toy store and get some ice cream?” he asked.
“Please.” They sounded enthusiastic but appropriately subdued. They hadn’t really known Ben at all. The weight of the situation couldn’t possibly be as heavy on their little shoulders as it was for him and their mother.
Neil nodded toward the front door. “The car’s unlocked. Why don’t you girls go and wait outside while I talk to your mom?”
“Okay.”
He gave Jill the coffee he’d brought for her after the girls went outside. “Happy birthday, Jill.”
She wiped her eyes and smiled. “Thank you.”
He watched her take a drink of the frozen mocha, wishing he could just sit and hold her all day. “How is it?”
“It’s so good.” She set the coffee on the island and burst into tears.
He pulled her into his arms, fighting to stay strong for her, even though he was dying inside. “Shh.”
“Don’t ever die,” she pleaded in between sobs.
“Not ever, baby. You’re stuck with me forever.”
“Thank you.”
His vision clouded with wetness. Damn it, he’d told himself he would be strong today, but in truth he didn’t know how to be strong without Ben. “I want to take you out tonight. I thought we’d have dinner at a nice restaurant, maybe go to a movie or on a drive and look at the stars, and I can give you your gift.”
“That sounds really nice. Thanks.”
He rubbed her back and buried his nose in the comforting scent of her hair. “I love you, Jill.”
She squeezed him tighter. “I love you, too. Don’t ever leave me.”
Neil pulled her back and cupped her cheeks so he could look at her sad face. “Not ever, baby.”
He kissed her forehead and wiped away her tears, smirking when he heard the car horn.
