After finding Phoenix, after having a rich past consume me to the point where I felt like I lived it yesterday, I knew this almost lover, Wilder, wasn’t even close to what I was looking for. And because of my foolishness, Wilder was now here with me for God knows how long. I’d imprisoned him and was bound to pay the price for that act.
“Back off, Wilder,” Gavin said as he waved me over to him. Thankful for the escape, I collapsed next to him on the floor.
Gavin glanced over me once more. “You good? Too much too fast?”
“If you only knew what was going on in my head, I bet you’d have enough ideas for ten books to back it up.”
“It’s only going to get weirder, Indie. Mason and I are having wicked flashbacks, too.”
I glanced up at Mason, who was lying across the bed looking over our shoulders. He gave me a nod to confirm.
“What kind of flashbacks?”
“Ones that are here, but not here,” Gavin said, catching my gaze again as he kept his voice down.
“Dual reality?” I asked.
Both he and Mason nodded.
“You guys have lost it,” Wilder bit out. “Dual what? We’re dead. Simple as that. Your minds are just on some wicked trip. We need to figure out how to get undead or move on, one or the other. We can’t stay like this.”
Ignoring him, Gavin went on. “I never told you this, but around Halloween these paranormal hunters showed up, wanting to film your house, the grounds around it. Rasure blocked them from even asking you. I only knew about it because I was at the bar and they were asking if anyone heard of any wicked stories about your property. A few people sent them to my table. I figured they were full of B.S. and were just looking for gossip on your family.”
“This house wasn’t haunted until we died,” I said as I rolled my eyes. I remembered seeing a few images when I was younger, but they never made themselves known. I figured it was just the flashes of memories that were producing them.
“Right. Well, anyway,” Gavin said, shaking off the fact that he’d seen his sister’s ghost here one night. “I asked them why they were focused on your house, and it turns out that one of them had a brother or brother-in-law, something, that was on the crew that built Rasure’s wing a few years back. He said every time they went to plow down one of the oak trees in the way, one of the guys would get hurt or sick. They even had machinery break down. They were set to burn it when a court order caused them to redraw their plans and move a hundred feet to the east. They were relieved that they didn’t have to deal with the tree anymore and shrugged it off like it was nothing.”
“That was my court order,” I stated with disdain. If Rasure had gone through with the original plans she’d had, the library, along with the North Wing, would’ve had to have been rebuilt. Not only that, but the grounds around the family’s memorial plot would have been reduced by almost half. It took an act of Congress, but I stopped her from invading my parent’s eternal rest.
“Yeah, I know,” Gavin said under his breath as he reached to squeeze my knee. He was the one that had always kept me calm when Rasure got the best of me, when I was just a girl. “Anyway, the weirdness didn’t stop there. Later, when they were building the foundation, they thought they came across some logs that were buried or something. Turned out they weren’t logs, but roots; roots that came, at least in part, from that oak tree. They had a ton of specialists come out and survey the land, and the entire crew threatened to bail if they were told to cut into that tree. Long story short, they figured out that the roots connected to four other trees as well. They estimated that the trees were well over two hundred years old, which stopped them from taking them down, even if it was from the ground up. They managed to lay the foundation higher than they first planned.”
“They wanted to check out my trees? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“That, and other things. They said they picked up on rumors or whatever saying to never go to Falcon Manor if you were an artist, that it would drain you and you would never create again.”
I threw a nasty, unbelieving glare at him, which caused him to laugh. I was a magnet for artists. Mason wrote most of his songs here, Gavin’s short stories always reminded me of my house, and Wilder’s paintings of this place would take anyone’s breath away.
“Yeah, I told them they were insane, too, then they started giving me all these new definitions of vampires, saying they took energy, not blood, and that creativity was their delicacy. Anyway, I told them they were nuts and sent them on their way, but I was curious so I asked Mason if he ever hit a wall around you or your house. Then we called Wilder.”
I glanced up at him.
“I hit a wall the day that girl came into my life,” he said with a smirk.
“You guys knew about Escorts and didn’t tell me?” I asked with wide, disbelieving eyes.
“About what?” Wilder asked in dismay.
I heard a whoosh of wind, and my stomach caved in. I didn’t want to be in the same room with Phoenix and them.
“She listens,” I heard Skylynn say. With a sigh of relief, I looked over my shoulder to see her lying on her stomach beside Mason. “Escorts, they take energy.”
“And what do you take?” Mason asked as his chocolate eyes melted over her.
“Cool it, drummer boy. Not my type.”
“What is your type?” he asked with a boyish grin.
She ignored him as she pointed her finger to the screen. “Slide your magic box down so I can see that.”
“My magic what?” Gavin said with a smirk. I elbowed him, and finally he listened.
“What do you want to see?” he asked her as he scrolled through the images he was looking at before.
“What was that drawing thing?” she asked.
“A 3D version of what they think is under the house. Cutting one tree would have killed four others.”
I felt my body tense. That 3D image looked a lot like the one I’d seen in the North Wing, the one that the necklace and fire had brought to life. It wasn’t as detailed, but there was no doubt what this image was imitating: twin realities.
On the screen, you could see a blueprint of the manor, the five trees in question. When he tilted the image, you could see the roots. They looked like a giant sphere underground. It was really beautiful the way nature had connected beneath the surface.
“Holy Hell,” Skylynn said under her breath. She reached for a pen and started to draw on the screen, but Gavin jerked it away.
“This is not a magic box. You can’t draw on it.”
She vanished from where she was and appeared at Wilder’s side with paper and marker in hand. “You. Draw that.”
Wilder’s steel blue eyes drank her in as he took the paper from her.
“Don’t look at me like that. You can do this.”
“I’ve got a block,” he said under his breath.
“Well, I’m not asking you to be creative. Copy it so I can connect the dots,” she demanded.
Wilder stretched out on the floor and used the screen to guide his hand.
“I don’t think they should be focusing on this…we need to help them move on,” I said to Skylynn.
She raised a single eyebrow. “I honestly assumed you would come out of that library with a different determination. Phoenix convinced you to move on?”
At the sound of his name, the guys looked at me and my skin turned beet red. Normally, by now the room would be a solid block of ice. They knew something was off about me, that someone had broken through my icy shields, that the idea of him was powerful enough to make me melt.
“I’m good with repeating my day. If they do, they will get more and more twisted. I don’t want them hurt.”
Skylynn’s blue eyes looked over me gently. She felt sorry for me, guilty for keeping Phoenix away from me, but I didn’t feel that way. If I knew who he was before, this would be harder. The old memories of him, along with last night, would keep me warm for years to come. If I’d known him longer,
I wouldn’t be able to walk away, to boldly tell him to go on his way and leave me be.
“They are more involved in this than we first thought,” she said with a nod to Gavin and Mason. “They weren’t blind at their death. They knew what you were fighting before you did,” Skylynn said with sympathy.
“That’s not what you guys said before,” I argued.
“We are doing our best to piece together what happened before your death, and at first it looked to be an accident, but now it seems as though it was premeditated.”
“So they will not go off and fight their own losses?” I asked. I was ashamed of feeling grateful that I would not be alone in death.
Skylynn glanced at all of them. “Weeks before your death, where was your energy focused? Where did your thoughts wander when they had nothing else to think about?” She locked eyes with Mason. “Was it your brother?” She moved on to Gavin. “Your sister?” Then to Wilder. “Where?”
Their stares all seemed to scream, NO! at once.
“Where was it? Don’t lie to me. This is important,” I demanded.
“You,” they said one after the other.
“Don’t think we’re crazy,” Mason said, reaching for my shoulder. “We thought Rasure had you under some kind of demonic spell. That she was the reason for the ice and stuff. We’ve been really deep into this.”
“Cadence knows, too?” I asked in a ghost of a whisper.
“No,” Gavin said with derision.
I glanced back at Mason. “I told him about what she did, but he already knew.” He answered my unasked question, almost painfully.
“How?” I asked Gavin, reaching for his hand.
“Just did.”
“For how long?”
“Since before Halloween. We’ve been breaking up for a long time now. She blamed you for it. I wouldn’t tell her what Mason and me were working on and that drove us further apart. She thought it was about my sister, but it wasn’t. It was just easier to put up with her than to fight it out at the end.”
That didn’t make any sense to me. Gavin was one of those people that wanted all or nothing. If you didn’t want him, if he didn’t want you, or if there was any cheating going on, he was long gone. Cadence wasn’t the only girl he’d been with since me, so I knew his pattern. What didn’t make sense was why he put up with it for the better part of a month, why what I saw last night happened. That just wasn’t his style, to have friends with benefits.
I didn’t want to push him about it, so I just let it drop. By then, Wilder had finished the sketch of what was on the screen.
Without a doubt, it reminded me of what I saw this morning. There was even what I thought was The Fall centering the sphere.
Skylynn fell to her knees and crawled across the floor toward Wilder. She took the marker and connected the trees. The way she connected them created a pentagram, one that my entire home, with the exception of Rasure’s wing, sat on.
“How freaked out should I be right now?” I said with a gasp.
“This is why she could never hurt you here. This house was protected,” Skylynn said in utter astonishment.
“Not from evil—she lives here,” I argued.
“No, she lives in a wing outside of the pentagram. I bet that is why she wanted it built there. She was also hoping someone else would break this force around the home. Maybe she’s not the big fish I thought she was,” Skylynn said, almost to herself.
Her eyes rose to meet mine, and I saw an unexpected element of respect there. It was as if she were in awe of me. That didn’t make any sense, though. She was the angel, shadowed soul, whatever—not me.
“Were you born where I found you that night?” she asked me.
I shook my head no and swallowed. I’d never advertised exactly where I was born because I didn’t want it to make me out to be more of a freak. “I was born in the memorial garden.”
Every Falcon that had died over the last two hundred years was buried in that garden, most of them inside marble walls. Beautiful artwork was in there, and it was even temperature-controlled. A marble observatory with a constant burning fire was built just before the tomb. That was a sacred place for me, a place that I would go to and just stare at the stars, watch the reflections of the stained glass window dance around me.
My parents thought my birth mother was a runaway, hiding out in there for shelter or something. When they couldn’t find her family, they had her buried in our family tomb. It was their way of saying they would watch over her and the gift she gave them forevermore.
“This garden?” she asked, pointing to the one Rasure almost destroyed. It rested at the peak of where those rings of roots connected. I nodded once. It looked like the same spot.
Skylynn rolled up the paper in her hand.
“Where are you going?”
“To argue for your life. Something tells me he’s in a better mood than the last time I saw him.”
“You’re wrong there,” I said with a shaky voice, remembering how I’d left him hanging.
“We’ll see,” she said as she vanished.
“Who’s in a better mood?” Mason asked me with his familiar boyish smirk.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you guys are the last people that I could tell what’s going on in my head.”
“Why is that? We could reopen the club, pass some tips on—make sure he sticks around.”
“Not a good idea on any account…”
Gavin reached for my hand. “I never felt your skin this warm before. I have never seen you look uncertain. That’s a good thing,” he said as his fingertip traced the falcon on my wrist.
“What else were you guys looking at on here? Anything? I have to figure out where this key goes,” I said as I turned it in my hand.
“Even if you do, you’re missing half of it,” Gavin said, glancing at it.
“What?”
“Yeah. I told you it almost looked like it,” Mason said, reaching for it. He ran his finger across the other side of it. “The key I found had two sides. You’re missing half.”
“How sure are you?” I asked, knowing I wasn’t at all sure. I still thought I developed the film I’d found in the camera.
“Very,” Gavin said to agree.
“Freaking A. Which clock did it fall out of?”
“The one on the mantel,” Mason answered.
“Of course it did,” I muttered, wishing I was still in the room with Phoenix. “At least I can shatter that clock if I wanted to. I assumed the other half of the key was still inside.”
“I don’t think it’s the same clock. I think it’s a replica,” Gavin said, changing the images on his screen. When he did, I saw the images that I thought I’d developed before only this time when Gavin zoomed in, the clocks I’d moved out of this house, at least one of them, were in every image. Even the one on the docks of the ship showed the small clock strapped down on some cargo in the background.
“I analyzed these left and right. They were made by different clock makers. I think the one in the library is meant to throw you off, that if you did put that key inside of it or whatever, something that should not happen will.”
“Why would she switch out the clocks?”
“I don’t know, but she did,” Gavin said, moving the screen to another image, one that had my parents standing in front of the one on the mantel. He zoomed in and out and pointed to various parts on the clock. They were close, but not identical.
“She put a hit out on us because we had that key, not because we took the clocks. In fact, because you took the key, she knew you were onto her.”
“I’m not onto her. I have no idea what this is about, why she just won’t leave my house.”
“She thinks you know, that’s what our problem is,” Gavin said with contempt.
“No. Our problem is that we’re dead. You guys need to stop focusing on this and let go.”
“Not a chance,” Gavin muttered as he changed the screen a few more times, looking for more
images. “We need to go through your pictures, the ones you took in this house, figure out when she switched it, if it was before or after that wing was added. If we get a time frame, maybe we can track down the real ones. Your parents inventoried everything that came in and out of this house. It would take some time, but we could figure it out.”
“I’ll have to ask Cadence where most of those are.”
They all looked at me at once. “What? She was helping me with my portfolio. She knew it would be hard on me to go through the old images, so she was going to weed through them.”
“Interesting,” Mason said, nudging Gavin.
“You two stop it. We’re dead. Let your grudges go already. Yeah, so maybe she has commitment issues, too. She’s damaged. Always has been.”
“Tell me this,” Gavin said, letting his gaze meet mine. “Why is she so focused on bringing up our past? Why is she so interested in getting us to work through our ‘deep down’ emotions?”
“Um...gee...I don’t know, maybe because she is majoring in psychology?”
“She has asked more since we’ve been dead than she did when we were alive,” Gavin asserted.
“We’ve been dead for all of two days. Seriously? You’re mad. You should be. But if tomorrow never comes, would it matter, I mean really and truly matter?”
“You know she’s Rasure’s pet,” Mason chimed in.
“She wasn’t her pet. She dealt with her so I didn’t have to,” I argued back.
Truth be told, if it weren’t for me Rasure surely would have manipulated the hell out of Cadence. Cadence didn’t grieve for the loss of our family the way I did. She was sad, don’t get me wrong, but it was just another loss, another almost family for Cadence to add to her list. Rasure used to try and make me jealous by giving Cadence more attention, but I didn’t care. About a year after my family died, Cadence came to me and said that Rasure wanted to know how I was dealing with things…she then asked me what she should tell her. She became my voice. I couldn’t lie, so when Rasure asked me or put me on the spot, Cadence was my voice. She had to play the devil’s advocate to protect me.
Dangerous Lovers Page 43
