SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (131 page)

“Here’s how it is,” Maggie said. “You either have the stomach for living or you don’t. Either way, you can’t stay in between. You have to make up your mind. Take your shot. Make your mark.”

“Love will heal you,” Margarita’s voice echoed through the room.

“I can’t,” Dillon said. “My father’s right, and has always been right. I was, and still am a naive child. Love, of any kind, eventually ruins you. It rips you apart, and you’re never the same person. I’d rather be dead than feel that kind of pain ever again.”

The room fell silent.

Hilly sat up in her tub of bubbles. All she truly cared about was the essence of the man perched on the edge of her tub, appearing so sad and guilt-ridden it broke her heart. “Look around this room, Dillon. Everyone who came to the party is dead. Do you really want to join them without ever having experienced the true love of your heart?”

“The choice is yours, young man,” Teddy said, and with that, he was gone, along with everyone else.

Dillon was the only apparition left, and Hilly couldn’t take her eyes off of him. She was afraid if she did, he would disappear and she’d never see him again.

“I can’t,” he finally said, reaching out and touching Hilly’s cheek. It felt as though she’d been touched by twilight and Hilly knew, without any doubt that Dillon truly loved her.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She wanted to tell him she genuinely loved him, but the words didn’t come out fast enough. Then, she blinked, and he was gone.

A Shadow at Twilight: Chapter Eight

Dillon didn’t know exactly what was happening to him, but without warning, he had awoken in bed at the hospital, trapped inside a body that couldn’t move, couldn’t feel, and couldn’t respond to his needs. The necklace Hilly had fastened around his neck seemed to be on fire and had somehow ignited his entire body. An intense burning sensation ran through his chest, down his limbs, and through his stomach. The agony of it caused him to scream out for help, but apparently no one could hear him. No one came running into the room No nurses. No doctors. No one.

He was completely alone in his misery.

He wanted the burn to stop. Wanted it all to end.

Now.

This moment.

The pain.

The fear.

The guilt.

All of it. He longed to be at peace.

Still, through his torture, there was a part of him that couldn’t let go. Couldn’t succumb to the pain. A strong part of him wanted to live again. Wanted to breathe in air on his own.

Wanted to touch and hold another person.

He wanted to love someone. He wanted to feel that emotion without worry that it wouldn’t last or something horrible would happen.

He craved love. To give it and to feel it. Like water or food he’d been denied. To have it surround him, to be part of it, to cherish the moments of love, that was his wish. That was his desire. Nothing else mattered.

If he couldn’t have it, if he couldn’t feel it, then there was no reason for him to live. No reason for him to go on struggling through the pain. No reason for him to breathe.

He could remember that he was engaged to Nanette Larson, and could visualize her face. She was beautiful in every sense of the word, perfect really, but he also remembered he didn’t love her. It had been a proposal of convenience, not one of love. Still, she had agreed. Had he played the game so convincingly that she didn’t question his love for her or better still, had she agreed for the same reasons . . . a merger between the two law firms?

His life had been on a course for certain disaster. He would end up exactly like his dad, a hollowed out, self-serving man who didn’t care enough about his own son to counsel him to only marry for love. To marry Hilly Thompson, the one girl he truly loved.

Dillon’s head throbbed. His arms ached. His legs tingled and his chest felt as if someone was standing on it.

Suddenly, the room filled with nurses and doctors. Someone was calling out his name, flashing a bright light into his eyes.

It stung, and he reached up to have that person stop hurting him.

And in that instant, the light went out and all the hurt vanished.

* * *

The next morning, Hilly awoke with one thought in mind: to stop Frank Spencer at any cost. Never in her life had she felt more determined, and more confident she could accomplish the impossible.

She would go toe to toe with Frank the Tank and come out on top.

Hilly didn’t know if last night’s intervention had had any impact on the real Dillon. His spirit had left so abruptly she never had the chance to tell him how she truly felt. Now all she wanted to do was tell the real Dillon the truth about her emotions, hoping he could somehow hear her.

Dillon Spencer had to know she loved him, deeply and honestly loved him, and no one would stop her from telling him in person, and not to his spirit or his apparition or whatever that other Dillon might be. She had to tell Dillon, the guy lying in a coma at the hospital.
That
Dillon needed to know the truth.

She didn’t know why she hadn’t come right out and told that other Dillon last night, but there was something in her that had stopped her. Something that told her telling that Dillon didn’t count. She had to tell the real Dillon.

He had to know the truth.

Today was the last day she could stay in the Molly Brown suite. It was booked by a family for the next five days, so Hilly had to take care of everything before she left. She’d hired a service to come in and pack up all the silk flowers and teddy bears and distribute them to the local children’s hospital, but everything else she would pack herself.

She had less than two hours to get to the hospital and talk to Dillon before he was scheduled to be moved. It seemed that Chambermaid Irene, not being aware of time, had other plans.

Hilly would pack, and Irene would instantly unpack. Hilly couldn’t see this phenomenon, only the results. One minute her bag was packed and ready to be zipped up, and in the blink of an eye, all her things were hung and stored in drawers.

The first time it happened, Hilly got a little chuckle out of it, despite the ticking clock. The second time, not so much, and by the third time, Hilly had lost all patience.

“Thanks, Irene, but I really need to get to the hospital, now! It’s urgent. You’ve got to stop unpacking for me or Dillon will be floating around with you guys forever. Please, let me go to him. It’s the only chance we have.”

Hilly packed everything again, this time just throwing her things in the bag in a heap, and this time Irene did the opposite. After closing her eyes and mentally pleading with Irene for her assistance in this effort, Hilly opened her eyes and saw her things neatly folded inside her suitcase. When she blinked, her bag was now zipped up and waiting for her next to the main door with a teddy bear perched on top dressed in a red sweater, peering out through round wire spectacles.

She walked over to take a closer look at the bear. There was a small gift tag attached to a blue ribbon around its neck that read: For Dillon. From Teddy and the gang.

“Thanks, Irene,” Hilly said. “You’re the absolute best.”

“You’re welcome,” Irene whispered, giving Hilly a slight chill. She didn’t think she would ever get used to all of this ghost stuff, and hoped she could leave her ‘gift’ behind at the hotel. She had enough problems in her life, now that she was unemployed, without adding a bevy of opinionated ghosts to the list.

“No offense,” she quickly said, just in case they were listening to her thoughts.

“None taken,” said a voice that sounded an awful lot like Teddy Roosevelt.

She smiled, shook off any lingering creepiness and continued with her tasks. It was time to collect all of Dillon’s things which saddened her beyond belief, but she did it anyway.

Apparently, Irene had moved on to another floor, because Hilly was left to do this task on her own.

She started by moving his laptop, which was still in its case, next to the door with her suitcase.

Next she took a moment to linger over his clothes in the armoire, his scent haunting all his things. Holding a shirt tight against her chest, she anguished over the thought that her plan might not work. That telling a man in a coma you loved him might not have any effect at all, and she’d have to live out her life without ever knowing his love.

The thought made her even more determined to tell him. It had to work. He had to hear her, he just had to.

In the next instant, all his things were packed and his suitcase sat next to hers, ready to go. Irene had done her ‘job’ once again.

A half-hour later, Hilly entered Valley View hospital, pulling Dillon’s suitcase and laptop case behind her. The teddy bear peeked out from her black purse which hung over her shoulder. She stopped at the security desk for her usual pass for Dillon’s room, but she didn’t recognize this guard.

“I’m sorry, but your name doesn’t seem to be on the list,” the young male guard told her. His name was John, according to his name tag.

Hilly leaned over the desk. “There must be some mistake, John. Could you double check please? Hilly Thompson for Dillon Spencer,” she repeated. “I’m the only other person on the list.”

“Actually, there are quite a few people on the list this morning. Unfortunately, you don’t seem to be one of them. I’m sorry.”

Hilly took a step back. “Can you tell me who those other people might be?”

He shook his head. “I can’t. Sorry.”

Her stomach tightened. Tension crept up her spine. She had to get into Dillon’s room, she just had to.

“I only need five minutes to return his bag. They’re moving him to another facility this morning, and he’ll need his things. I won’t have access to that facility. You’ve got to make an exception. I’ll drop this off, say good bye, and leave. You can send someone up to get me if I’m not back on time.”

“I’m really sorry, Miss, but if your name isn’t on the list, I can’t let you up there. Those are the rules. But I can have someone bring up his things for you, if you’d like.”

“No,” she said a little too quickly. “This is a matter of life and death. I’ve got to see him today. I’m afraid I can’t take no for an answer.”

“Then you should contact a family member and have that person add you to the list. Until then, there’s nothing I can do. I’m really sorry.”

Hilly stared at him for a moment, not believing this turn of events. She had to get up to Dillon’s room. It was his only chance.

She stepped away from the desk with an idea and phoned Frank’s assistant, Phil. His phone rang once and the call ended. She tried again, thinking there was some natural disconnect. When she tried several more times and her phone disconnected she knew he was rejecting her calls.

She tried Frank. Her call immediately went to voice mail. Frank only responded to a call if he thought it would benefit him in some way. Most of the time, his calls were forwarded to voice mail, which his assistant, Phil, had access to and would determine their relevancy.

Hilly capitalized on this little known fact.

“This is Hilly, you little shit. Put me back on that visitors list right now or I’m sending a text to your wife that you and Tiger Woods have more in common than just a golf swing.”

She disconnected and waited while pacing in front of the security desk.

Moments later, the guard’s phone rang.

“Right away, sir,” John said into the phone.

He hung up and called over to Hilly. “Ms. Thompson. You’re free to go on up now.”

“Thanks,” she told him, thinking how she needed to use this blackmail strategy more often on people like Phil. Seemed like it was the only way she could get what she wanted, and right now she wanted Dillon.

* * *

Hilly exited the elevator with more than an hour to go before Dillon’s private flight was scheduled to whisk him away. She had her entire love speech planned out, down to telling him how she had always loved him from the very first moment they met. A bit of a stretch, but these were desperate times.

As she moved closer to his room, she noticed an entire entourage of people milling around in the hallway. She picked up her pace.

The entourage consisted of Frank Spencer, his smarmy assistant Phil, and a few other senior male partners from the law firm. Hilly feared the worst or why else would scared-of-death Frank be there? He didn’t need to supervise the move. The arrangements had been taken care of by Phil.

Her stomach pitched. Tears welled up in her eyes, and burned her cheeks as they fell unencumbered. Her throat tightened and her entire body felt as if it was made of lead. Walking seemed difficult, her legs didn’t want to move, her knees didn’t want to bend, her body didn’t want move forward.

Then he spotted her. Frank Spencer, a tall slim man with graying hair, and a hard-angled face turned and looked right at her. His expression, stern. His demeanor, formal.

“What are you doing here?” he asked with a tone that could melt stone.

Unfortunately for Frank, Hilly no longer feared him. His wrath had no impact . . . okay, maybe a little.

“I’ve come to see Dil—Mr. Spencer,” she said, correcting herself.

“You no longer work for my son or for the firm. I thought my assistant made that perfectly clear.”

“He did, but that doesn’t stop me from visitation rights.”

“You have no
visitation rights.
I had you removed from the list.”

“You should talk to your assistant about that. Seems there’s been a misunderstanding.”

She walked past him, rolling Dillon’s bag over his feet.

“Wait,” he said, his voice raising an octave. “Stop her.”

But Hilly had already entered the room, and there, sitting up in bed was a wide awake Dillon, talking to his fiancée, Nanette Larson, a stunning brunette dressed in a black business suit, looking all misty-eyed as she gazed into Dillon’s eyes.

Hilly froze right there in the doorway, as someone grabbed her arm from behind, trying to pull her out of the room.

She stood firm, not budging an inch.

Nanette looked up, and smiled. “Oh Hilly, isn’t it wonderful? He woke up. And he’s as hungry as a bear. All he’s been doing is eating. Whatever the doctors did, worked. I’m so grateful to you for being here with him. Thank you so much!”