by Angel Smits
David reached out and took her cup, setting it on the table beside his. He scooted closer to her. “It’s incredible to feel again,” he said in a soft, rough voice. “For so long I’ve kept my emotions in check.”
“So you are safe here? No shifting?”
“No shifting. Only if I step over the line.” He leaned close. “Is this over the line?”
She thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he ran the tip of his tongue over her lips in a slow, sensual tease. “Mmm . . . I love the taste of coffee on you,” he whispered. Then he did kiss her and she returned it, joining him in tasting the passion growing between them.
The computer beeped, its insistence worse than an alarm clock at dawn. He pulled back reluctantly. “Hopefully that’s the file I’ve been waiting for.”
“Mmm.” Words? What good were words right now? He opened the computer and she snuggled against him, her head resting on his uninjured shoulder.
“Is that about the embezzlement?”
“I hope so.” He tapped in the commands, and a long file in tiny print leapt to the screen. He read as he scrolled down. “Damn. Nothing.”
“Wait. What’s that?”
“What?”
Clarissa reached out and turned the tiny screen more clearly toward her. “There. That paragraph.” She pointed at the screen.
He leaned closer. “I don’t see what you’re talking about.”
“That’s my name.”
“Where?”
“There.” She pointed at the screen
He read the paragraph aloud. “It’s nothing but a bunch of statistics. It’s all numbers.” He didn’t mention her name.
Except she saw her name as it blinked wildly within the text. “My name is there. I can see it.” She couldn’t tear her gaze from the screen, almost mesmerized by the rhythm.
David cursed and hit the keys so hard she thought they might break. He yanked the phone cord out of the machine and then stood to pull it out of the wall.
“She knows we’re here,” Clarissa said, realizing what she’d seen hadn’t been real.
“She’s known.” The defeat was strong in his voice. “Now she’s trying to find a way to get here. She’s manipulating the other end.” He wound the cord up as he spoke and threw the coil into the computer case.
Despite her own unsettled feelings, she watched him, observing the changes. While his anger made him clench his jaw, curl his hands into fists and pace, there was no sign he was on the verge of shifting. She breathed more easily, realizing she’d been holding her breath.
“This past year has been hell,” he growled.
Clarissa frowned. There was some piece of the answer in his words. She knew it, but which piece? “A year? Why this year? What’s different than before?”
He shrugged and slumped back to the couch. “I’m not sure exactly. The first time I shifted was right after I’d started dating again, right after the first anniversary of Rachel’s death. Scared the hell out of me.”
“What did you become?”
“A snake.” He shivered and laughed. “I hate those things. I felt so guilty and low for dating again. After that, I’ve been all kinds of things. It’s like someone cast a spell on me or something.”
A spell? Dread crept over Clarissa. Her mind spun with sudden memories and a longing for comforting answers. She looked at David. An image of her own past came to mind.
If it was a spell, she might actually have the means to break it. Reluctant to tell him what she thought, she hesitated too long. He looked at her, a curious frown on his brow. Fear reared its head. What would he think of her now? She squashed those old feelings. “Remember those legends of the witches I told you about?”
“Yeah?”
“They’re not totally false.” It was her turn to get up and pace. “Granny told me her mother and the women before her in our family practiced magic. She said she knew some as well.”
“I thought she was dead. That’s helpful how?”
She bit her lip, trying to decide how best to tell him. Better to plunge ahead without thinking. “If a spell’s been cast, we have to break it.”
He looked at her with skeptical eyes, but at least he was listening. “And how do we do that?”
The silence was heavy. Too heavy. “I have Granny’s old book.” Old book. She almost laughed at the simple description. She saw the grimoire in her mind’s eye. There was a reason she’d put it where she had. To keep it safe and herself from the temptation. The irony almost made her laugh aloud.
“Then let’s get it. Where is it?” He was on his feet and headed to the door when she grabbed his arm.
“You can’t go.”
“Why not?” She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “The shifting, for one.” She recalled some of what she’d read in the book long ago. Old stories that had been visions came back too clearly. “It may be a progressive spell. It’s possible you might stop changing back to human form at some point.” She watched the color drain from his face.
“You can’t go either. She’ll get you with the visions,” he countered. “Can Faith bring it?”
“No.” Clarissa wrung her hands. This was not a good development. “Not unless the staff at your bank can let her into my safe deposit box.”
He stared at her as if he wanted to spit out a litany of curses. He settled for a fiercely whispered, “Hell.” He clenched his teeth, fighting to stay calm. “Where’s your key?”
“In my purse, on my key ring. Where else?” She dropped back down to the couch. Hysterical laughter bubbled in her throat. They couldn’t leave. Not without putting themselves at risk. She’d only felt this trapped one other time in her life. The day they’d shut her in a jail cell.
DAVID SAW THE distress in her eyes and slumped onto the couch beside her. Together they stared at the ash-filled fireplace. Even if Faith were willing and had the key, the bank wouldn’t let her into the safe deposit box unless her signature matched Clarissa’s—which it didn’t. He scrubbed his hand over his face. He couldn’t believe he was considering trying to hoodwink his own bank. “This is nuts.”
She laughed, telling him he must have spoken aloud. “I have to go to the bank, you know,” she said.
“You can’t.”
“What other choice do we have? Can you get it?”
“No.” The vault key stayed at the bank and it took two keys to open the box. He could get the bank’s and he’d have Clarissa’s key. Except the damned security system he’d insisted on being installed would record his every move in the vault—on tape for everyone to see. They’d wonder why he was alone opening a box that wasn’t his. Unless he had a court order to drill the damned lock, there was no other choice.
Damn it.
She was right. What other choice did they have? None that he could see. She was the only one who could go get the book. He watched her stand, helpless to think of any other way. He stood too, following her to her purse. The jangle of her keys was too loud in the quiet room. He reached into his pocket and handed her his car keys. Before he let go, he said, “Don’t believe anything she shows you.”
“I know.”
She looked up at him for a long silent moment. She shook her head and stood on tiptoe to kiss him.
“Not enough.” He folded her into a tight embrace.
CLARISSA STOPPED at the edge of Dove’s Hollow. The faded city limit sign sat inches in front of the car’s bumper. Her hands sweated against the warm steering wheel and her heart pounded in her chest. With a deep breath, she pushed the accelerator to the floor, feeling as if she could outrun the visions. When no odd images appeared, she let out her breath and laughed nervously.
She drove back the route they’d taken the day before. Only hours had passed since she was at the bank, yet it felt like years. As
she walked in through the wide glass doors, a different security guard nodded and smiled at her from his perch. Sweat reappeared in her palms. What was she nervous about? It was her stuff in her deposit box. Another deep breath helped.
She stood in line, impatiently waiting her turn. Was everything moving in slow motion or was it just her impatience? She tapped her foot and fought the urge to pace.
Finally, the clerk smiled at her. They’d just stepped inside the vault room when loud heels clicked on the tile floor.
“I thought that was you.”
At first Clarissa didn’t recognize the voice. David’s secretary stepped further into the small room. “Oh . . . hello?”
“I’ll take care of everything.” Melanie smiled at the teller, who nodded and handed the key ring to Melanie.
“I’ll only be a minute.” Clarissa sensed something wasn’t right here, but couldn’t quite tell what it was. Why would a secretary help her with the safe deposit box? The teller hesitated in the doorway, as if she felt something was amiss also.
“Of course.” Melanie’s expression was too bright, but she opened the lock without another word. After she stepped back, Clarissa took out her key. She noticed Melanie didn’t leave, as was the usual procedure. She turned and frowned at the woman.
Melanie didn’t take the silent hint. She actually stepped closer. “Do you know where Mr. Lorde is?” she finally blurted out.
Clarissa stared at her. She wasn’t sure what to say. David had been on the computer this morning, and he’d been in contact with the bank.
“It’s just not like him.” The woman paced and wrung her hands. “He never misses work. Never. He has been acting strange lately.” Melanie seemed to be talking as much to herself as Clarissa.
When the woman paced away, Clarissa quickly pulled the box open and felt the familiar cover of the book. The timeworn indentations fit in the palm of her hand. She curled her fingers around it and hastily pulled it out. She shoved it into her bag just as Melanie turned back around.
She wasn’t sure why she didn’t want Melanie to see the book, but she knew it wasn’t a good idea. She pulled out the other papers she kept there and pretended to read them.
“I’m sure something’s happened to him,” Melanie said. “He’s been acting even stranger since you came in that day.”
“I’m sure he’s fine.” Clarissa wanted to reassure the woman, but if David had wanted her to know where he was, he’d have told her.
“If you hear from him . . . ”
“If I see him, I’ll let him know you’re worried.”
Melanie’s features relaxed a little. “Thank you.” Impulsively, she reached out and gave Clarissa a hug.
The warm human contact felt wonderful. For an instant, Clarissa was tempted to confide in Melanie, who obviously cared about David.
Pulling away from the embrace, she bid the woman farewell and hurried to the car.
Climbing in, she headed back to the house. She only stopped long enough to pick up a few groceries and fill up with gas. The closer she got to Dove’s Hollow, the more she let herself relax. As she drove the now familiar route, she let herself believe that maybe—just maybe—this nightmare would be over soon.
And then what? Would she and David go their separate ways? Would he return to the stuffy old bank, and she to her struggling coffee shop? Or was this the beginning of something new and wonderful—and for her, frightening?
All of a sudden the radio blared. She reached over to turn it off. At first she couldn’t find the button, and when she did twist it, nothing happened. The music continued.
She looked up from the dial and saw a tree appear from out of nowhere. She slammed on the brakes. The car skidded, the back end swerving on a paved road that had turned to gravel. She didn’t remember turning off the highway.
She knew this road. This wasn’t in Boulder. The thick overhead branches. The tall roadside grasses. Around the next bend she’d find her grandmother’s house. A house that still stood in Massachusetts.
The car came to a halt at the edge of the road, a cloud of dust rising up into the air, clogging her throat.
She realized it was a vision. She watched the sun sink low in the sky, setting the treetops on fire with its fading light. Where the sounds of nature normally soothed her, the high pitched music continued. It grew louder with each second. She slammed her hands over her ears to shut it out, but it didn’t work.
Finally, the music started to fade, growing softer and more tolerable. It reached a point where she could stand it—and recognize it for what it was.
A music box. A soft, sweet sound. As the music faded, the sunlight brightened and the dense trees vanished. The open highway reappeared, and instead of being parked on the shoulder of the road, she realized she was stopped in the middle of the left lane of traffic.
Car horns blared around her. She tried to shift the car into drive, but it stalled. The deep throaty roar of a truck’s horn broke the quiet. She looked in the rearview mirror just in time to see a semi barreling toward her.
Fourteen
THE CAR FINALLY responded. Clarissa rammed the gas pedal to the floor and jerked the wheel to the left. Thank heavens for the wide grassy median.
The truck’s passing blast of air shook the entire car as she slammed on the brakes again. An ear-shattering crash made her scream. A large black rock that the truck’s tires had spun up from the road hit the safety glass and spiderwebbed the windshield.
For several long seconds the car rocked back and forth, with almost the same rhythm as her heart pounding in her chest.
She took several deep breaths. Resting her forehead against the steering wheel, she clung to the wheel with a knuckle-whitening grip.
Traffic passed, but she ignored it, hoping and praying no more rocks would fly up. She wasn’t able to make her body move yet.
She thought over the vision that had nearly gotten her killed. All of her visions were different, but this one had been unusual. Was she missing Granny so much she’d hallucinated her house? Or was there a clue there?
Then she remembered the music. Granny had never owned a music box. It wasn’t something Clarissa could even imagine the old woman being interested in. So why had she heard one?
She grabbed her cell phone, and after three tries with her trembling fingers, she punched in David’s number. She waited while the phone rang . . . and rang.
FRESH FROM THE shower, wearing nothing but a towel, David stared at his reflection in the old bathroom mirror. He stared, memorizing his own features and praying they wouldn’t be lost forever. He examined the edge of his jaw that was so often obliterated by fur or feather. The straight line of his shoulders that frequently bowed and curled . . .
His cell phone rang and he nearly didn’t answer it. Was this how a dying person felt when they reached that final moment? Hungry to see and experience everything they could? Grasping at straws? Avoiding the things they didn’t want? He reached for the phone and left his thoughts behind.
“Hello,” he said.
“Do you recall another music box?” Between Clarissa’s lack of pleasantries and the breathlessness in her voice, he knew something was wrong. It also did strange things to his nerves. Nerves that clearly remembered making love to her.
“Where are you?” He didn’t like the sound of her panic or the roar in the background.
“On the highway. I’ll explain later. The music box. It’s important.”
She was one of the things in life he wanted to experience more of, and her fear echoing over the line hinted that he might not get the chance. “I don’t have a clue.”
“It’s important.” Her voice rose, almost in hysteria. “A music box?”
“You saw the one in the living room.”
“No. No. Not that one. Another one. A small one. I
didn’t see it clearly enough in the vision, but I heard it.”
Where was she? And what was she doing? Standing in the middle of the highway? He straightened as her words registered over the roar. The towel slipped, and he hitched it up to a more comfortable place. “You had another vision?”
“Yes. Just now. It was foggier than usual, but I’m sure it’s a vision.”
“What happened?”
The silence on the line told him she didn’t want to tell him. “I was at my grandmother’s house for just a moment. I heard a music box clearly in the background.”
“Heard? Did you see it?”
“No.” Her desperation came through the phone line. “But I heard it. That’s all.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t Mother’s music box?”
“Yes!” She snapped out the word. “It was a tiny sound. Faint and small. Like one I remember from when I was a little girl.”
“Maybe it was yours. The vision might not be connected to me.”
“No. I’m sure this is a sign. We’ve got to find that music box.”
“Why?”
”It’s somehow the key to all this. I know it.”
He wanted to ask her how she knew it, but he stopped himself. “Rachel might have had one.” Before she could ask anything more, he turned away from the mirror and ordered, “Get back here.”
“Why? What do you have in mind?”
“Nothing specific. Just get back here where you’re safe.” He cleared his throat, trying to banish the emotions that swamped him. He didn’t think he was going to shift. But the ache to hold her and assure himself she was safe suddenly seemed too overwhelming. He might not be psychic like her, but he knew she was in danger where she was now.
“David?” Her voice echoed in the small room.
“I’m fine. But hurry.”
CLARISSA SHOVED open the door of the old house. The hinge’s soft squeal seemed too loud.
“David?” She let the door close. The silence engulfed her. She set her purse and the bag of groceries on the small table by the couch. Where was he? She’d tried calling his cell twice more on the way back but he hadn’t answered.
