Authors: Kristen Ashley
Tags: #romance, #reincarnation, #ghosts, #magic, #witches, #contemporary romance
In his line of work, he’d
seen a lot of crazy things. This, of course, took the cake. He’d
never seen anything quite like
this
. However, he long since
learned not to ask questions. He would tuck this experience safely
away and never think of it again. It was just another day at the
office to him.
“Where’d she go?” Robert
Fitzwilliam asked, staring at the place Mrs. Manning had been.
“She’s been dispatched, nearly
five hundred years ago,” Marian explained to Robert even though he
thought her words didn’t explain anything at all and then she
turned to Rick. “And that smell is one of my personal concoctions.
It made the spectres, when they were in this house, incarnate, so
they could be fought, so they would be vulnerable.”
Sibyl was listening to all this
and staring at the wall where Mrs. Manning had disappeared and as
she did so she felt the anger drain out of her. She felt like she’d
just finished a marathon. She felt like laughing and crying and
screaming, all at the same time. She wondered what it all meant.
She wondered about Royce and Beatrice and what it meant for
them.
Then she remembered Mallory and
her eyes flew to Colin.
But he was already striding
with purpose to the door.
She ran after him and skidded
to a halt outside in the hall, her heart tearing apart at what she
saw.
“Mallory,” she whispered, tears
clogging her throat.
Colin was already in a crouch
by Mallory’s head. Mrs. Griffith was on her knees behind the prone
body of the dog and Mallory was lying in a pool of his own blood.
The older woman was stroking the animal like he was still alive and
whispering soothing words to him. Bran was curled up in the area
between Mallory’s still belly and motionless hind legs.
When Colin reached out to touch
the dog, the cat agilely gained his feet and hissed. Colin’s hand
froze then changed directions and without fear of the hissing cat,
he stroked its head. At his touch, the cat stopped hissing and then
rubbed its body lovingly against Mallory’s belly.
Sibyl felt the tears drop from
her eyes and slide down her face as she stood frozen, watching as
Colin felt the dog’s chest then he turned and looked up at
Sibyl.
At the queer expression on his
face and the muscle leaping in his jaw, all her hope died.
She dropped to her knees beside
her fiancé and burst into uncontrollable tears.
She vaguely realised that
people were coming from the bedroom and others were coming down the
hall. Sibyl put her shaking hands out and gently rested one on her
dog’s still-warm flank, the other on his ribcage where his big
doggie heart was no longer beating.
She bent her head and whispered
to the floor, “He died trying to save us.”
She barely finished the last
word when she found herself moving toward Colin as he pulled her
into his arms and surged to his feet. He brought her up with him
and tucked her close to his warm body. She buried her face in his
chest, wrapped her arms around him and gave in completely to the
anguish ripping agonisingly through her heart.
There was movement and
muttering around her and she lifted her head and saw Colin’s throat
working spasmodically. She couldn’t bear the sight of him trying to
control his emotion because she was in no state to soothe him. She
turned her head and pressed her cheek against Colin’s chest as she
watched and listened. She did everything but look at the body of
her dog. She couldn’t see Mallory like that again. From now on… she
swallowed against the pain the thought caused… she had to remember
him as he used to be, goofy, sweet, loyal and loving.
Colin stroked her hair with one
hand and held her firmly against him with his other arm.
“Let’s get you up Mrs.
Griffith,” Kyle said softly, his voice kind.
“I’m not leaving him,” Mrs.
Griffith returned fiercely.
“I’ve got him.” Rick was
walking toward the scene, carrying a sheet from some bed. Gently,
more gently than Sibyl would have imagined he was capable, he
crouched and carefully tucked the sheet around the dog. He then,
still utilising the utmost care, lifted the dead, awkward weight of
the enormous dog and settled Mallory in his arms.
“Where are you taking him?”
Sibyl asked as she tried to break free from Colin but both his arms
tightened around her.
“Don’t worry.” Rick smiled at
his charge for the first time of their acquaintance. It was not a
happy smile, it was a sad, trust me smile. “I’ll take care of him,
I promise.”
At his smile, Sibyl let her
weight sag against Colin and he took it on without sound or
movement. Then she nodded at her bodyguard.
Rick walked down the hall,
carrying his burden.
New tears sprang to Sibyl’s
eyes and clogged her throat.
“Colin, get her to the library.
Get her a relaxing drink, you both could use one.” Phoebe was next
to her son, her thoughtful eyes on Sibyl.
Colin did as his mother told
him, pausing only to scoop up the cat which he handed to Sibyl and
she tucked the feline protectively in her arms. For the first time,
Bran seemed quite contented to be where he was.
Colin guided her down to the
library and Sibyl heard behind her…
“I’ll get this cleaned up.”
That was Mags.
“I’ll help.” That was
Jemma.
“No, my dear, you get the kids
home. We’ll take care of this.” That was Phoebe.
She stopped listening when
Colin turned her toward the stairs and they went to the library.
All the while, Sibyl realised absently, unable to process it
completely, that she was very lucky to have such wonderful people
in her life.
Colin took her to the couch and
pushed her gently into it. She didn’t resist. She’d started her
journey on this couch, it seemed fitting to sit there now. The
minute she sat, Bran settled in a curl on her lap.
She heard noises coming from
other areas the house. Their friends and family were all trying to
be quiet but their tasks of tidying up and leaving and cleaning a
pool of dog blood would not allow them to shield their noise from
Colin and Sibyl.
Listening to the noise, Sibyl’s
face was frozen in a constant wince.
Colin took one look at her and
walked to the door to close it but the unknown man filled its
frame.
“The police are here,” he told
Colin, glanced at Sibyl, tried (and failed) to smile at her
reassuringly and then looked back at Colin.
“I pressed the panic button,”
Colin told him then sighed. “Can you deal with them?” His hand went
to his hair and he pulled his fingers through it in a frustrated
gesture.
“Of course,” the man assured
then left and Colin closed the door behind him.
“Who is that man?” Sibyl asked
as Colin walked to the drinks cabinet.
“A security specialist and an
investigator, he and his team have been watching over you for
weeks. They’ve also been trying to discover who was behind all
this.”
Sibyl nodded, allowing the
pleasant thought that Colin had hired a team to protect her to
penetrate the numbness that had enveloped her.
He poured two drinks and
brought them both to the couch. He handed her one and she
automatically took it. He settled down beside her, stretching his
long legs in front of him, crossing them at the ankles and wrapping
his arm around her shoulder before he pulled her into him and she
rested her head in the curve of his neck.
“What’s this?” she asked,
lifting the tumbler filled with a fluid that matched his eyes.
“Whisky. Drink it,” he
ordered.
She sighed. “You
are
so
bossy,” she told him, her voice weary but filled with
affection.
As an answer, his hand went to
her hair and lifted its heavy weight.
She sipped her drink and felt
the pleasant warmth slide down her throat and into her belly.
“Are we safe now?” she
whispered.
“Yes,” he answered so
definitively she believed him and she finally felt the tenseness
flow from her body. “Until you get us into another disaster by
taking Parliament to task for their defence spending and becoming
public enemy number one,” he noted in a mock-beleaguered tone.
Despite all that had happened,
she felt a giggle rise up her throat and let it loose as she looked
up at his handsome face.
“I love you,” she told him, her
voice strong with emotion, tears coming back to her eyes.
He looked down on her and his
face shifted and she would understand that shift when he vowed in a
low, even, fierce tone, “After tonight, I swear to God, you’re
never going to have a reason to cry or be frightened again.”
“I’ll take it from that comment
that you love me back.” She grinned shakily at him.
He bent his head and brushed
his lips against hers.
Then he said softly against her
mouth, “Yes, darling, I love you back.”
This feeling shined in his eyes
and he looked at her as if she was the sun and the moon, as if the
world revolved around her, as if she was his entire universe.
She settled against him again,
far more contentedly, and they sat there for some time before she
whispered so quietly, her words barely made a noise, “Mallory was a
good dog.”
“Mallory was a walking, barking
calamity,” Colin returned but the fondness in his tone caused Sibyl
no distress. “There will never be another Mallory,” he finished
gently.
She nodded her head against his
shoulder in agreement and infinite sadness.
There came a soft knock on the
door and Colin called his permission for entry.
Mags, Marian and Phoebe walked
in, their faces carrying identical expressions of concern.
Marian was also carrying a
book.
“It’s all sorted, darling,”
Phoebe murmured, her eyes avoiding Sibyl’s and looking directly at
Colin.
She felt rather than saw him
lift his chin to acknowledge his mother’s words.
“Everyone’s away. They all say
their good-byes and they’ll talk to you later, Sibyl,” Marian
informed her.
Sibyl smiled weakly at her
friend.
Mags came to her daughter and
sat heavily down beside her, making both Colin and Sibyl’s bodies
lift momentarily.
“What a night,” she noted in an
understatement and then her body slid sideways, leaning against
Sibyl with her head on Sibyl’s shoulder.
“You okay Mom?” Sibyl asked,
handing her glass with a grateful look to Phoebe as she put her arm
around Mags just as Colin had his arm around her.
“If you’re okay, I’m okay,”
Mags replied then went on. “I don’t think I’m going to tell Bertie
about this though. He’ll have a coronary.”
“Good idea,” Phoebe agreed.
“I’m not telling Mike either or Claire and Tony for that matter.
Tony wouldn’t begin to believe me but Claire will be furious she
missed it.” She walked to the drinks cabinet, asking for the other
women’s orders.
They all settled into chairs,
Mags coming upright as Phoebe gave her a drink. Colin handed Sibyl
his and ordered her to finish it. Not having enough strength to
defy him, she did as she was told.
Sibyl sat with her family and
friend, stroked her cat and sipped her whisky. They all seemed
content to be together but alone with their thoughts.
After awhile, Colin broke the
silence and called, “Marian.”
The older woman started. “Yes,
Colin, dear?”
Sibyl peered up at his gorgeous
face, wondering at his thoughts and saw his jaw clench and that
familiar muscle dance there.
Then he enquired, “What
happened tonight?”
Sibyl wanted to smile but she
bit it back. He didn’t want to ask, he didn’t want to know. But he
clearly couldn’t stop himself.
Marian watched them both
carefully and then took a sip from her gin. Finally, she spoke.
“I don’t exactly know.” She put
her drink down on a table beside her and opened the book, sifting
through the pages. “I think…” she started to say and then stopped,
finding her place. She scanned, her eyes racing left to right then
back again, over and over. Finally, a smile tugged at her lips. “It
appears that the legend has changed somewhat.”
“How’s that?” Mags asked, her
body coming to attention.
Sibyl lifted her head and
stared.
“Well…” Marian continued to
read while she spoke. “Apparently, there was a vicious plot to kill
the mighty warrior, Royce Morgan and his new bride Beatrice on
their wedding night. A plot conceived by a trusted member of the
household. This, Royce foiled because, well… he was a mighty
warrior.” Her eyes lifted and she looked at Colin then back down to
her book.
Sibyl gasped before she asked,
“They didn’t die?”
Marian shook her head.
At the news, a burst of energy
flowed throw Sibyl, she surged off the couch and Bran flew off her
lap with an angry mew. Sibyl, unable to contain her delight, did a
happy jig and sang, “Hallelujah!”
Everyone, including Colin,
watched her with a grin on their face.
Sibyl stopped just as abruptly
and turned back to Marian. “What happened?”
Marian looked down at the book.
“Let me see. Well, this writer is far more into history, the facts,
as it were. It says Royce foiled the plot as he was a seasoned
warrior and could easily fend off his five attackers. The author
does hint that there was a great deal of talk that lasted through
the centuries about magic and…” she narrowed her eyes on some
words, “it says here, some old woman from the village, a friend of
both the Morgans and Godwins, was riding home from their wedding
feast, came upon the struggle and dashed in, dispatching one of the
villains with her cane.”
A burst of laughter erupted
from Sibyl before she cried with glee, “What?”
“That’s what it says here,”
Marian tapped the book, her lips forming a smile.