SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (210 page)

“And, it’s perfectly all right to wait for the magic, Taylor— to reach for the special love that your father and I found. You’ll know when it’s real.”

“Don’t go,” Taylor whispered, her voice catching painfully in her throat.

“This is the first and last time for us. But talk to me, Taylor, anytime. I’ll hear you. I’ll be listening…I always have…”

Madame Lana’s body slumped in the chair, her hands dropping limply to her lap. Then she groaned softly as though stirring from a disturbing dream. Rubbing her eyes, she rolled her shoulders back, moving as though she were stiff and sore.

Taylor stared at her own hands, now limp in her lap. She felt so empty after having felt so filled with her mother’s presence.

“Did she come, Rose? It feels like she’s been here…” Madame Lana continued to stretch her neck from side to side.

When Taylor finally met her gaze, she smiled. “Yes, she did. Thank you—it was amazing.”

Visibly pleased, Madame Lana sighed. “It’s amazing to me, too, Rose. I’m glad it was a good experience. Let’s continue, then. Does anyone have any questions for the spirits? Mr. Shepard, is there a question tonight?” Madame Lana focused her attention on her host.

“Lana, ask the spirits if they see my writing career continuing,” Shepard asked.

“I’m getting a positive response...yes, definitely continue on a literary path, I’m told. I’m also getting a picture...over water and beyond. Does this mean anything to you?”

“Yes, it does.” Shepard leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, concentrating on Madame Lana’s face.

“Now I’m getting a picture of leaves, autumn leaves...somewhere far from here. Overseas. Europe, perhaps?”

“Yes, yes,” Shepard murmured. “Shall I assume that I should travel to this place to pursue a project?”

“I’m getting a positive response. Oh! This place is France—is that where you intended to travel?”

Shepard nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “And will my project be successful?”

“I’m being told that this will most definitely happen...yes.” Madame Lana cocked her head to one side. “Specifically, you are to remain overseas for one year. When you return, all your affairs will be quickly set in order. All will be well.”

“Thank the spirits for the information. It is most interesting,” Shepard replied, leaning back in his chair.

“Questions, anyone?” Madame Lana glanced from face to face, pausing to offer a sentence or two to each from the spirit world. When she had spoken to every guest, Madame Lana once again gazed at Taylor. Her eyelids grew unexpectedly heavy, and she allowed them to drop.

Each person appeared to have been given fairly specific advice or news that had distinct meaning. Once again, she felt a sudden shudder along her spine, and a tingle along her scalp.

Madame Lana opened her eyes. “Rose, there is another message for you. She says...she says to remember the cards, remember what was told to you. Does this have meaning for you?”

Instantly paralyzed from the impact of the question, Taylor stared wordlessly back into Madame Lana’s eyes. How could she know?

“Now I’m getting a picture of a gun. Oh, my...I see blood and darkness...she says that it doesn’t have to happen...someone is in danger! She says you have the power to change things...to stop someone? Something? She says you know what the pictures mean...do you?”

Taylor forced her lungs to inflate. She felt lightheaded from the momentary lack of oxygen, not even aware she had been holding her breath. Nodding, she asked, “Who is speaking to you?”

“Strange...another Rose? No, I’m getting the name of...Rosa ? Ah, Rosalinda...she says to tell you that you must continue to find...to find something. Do you know what this means, Rose?”

“Yes, I think so. Can you ask her what I’m supposed to do? How to find out what I need to find out?”

“She says it is your doing, that you have been chosen.”

“Please...ask her about my future,” Taylor whispered, not really wanting to know, but too afraid not to ask. “Am I going to stay here?”

“She’s fading, Rose. I’m having trouble hearing her...ah, she says it is not certain—that you must grasp the moment, not the past or the future. The moment, she says.” Madame Lana sighed, her head tipping back slightly. “She’s gone.”

Confused and weary from the emotions evoked during the séance, Taylor leaned back into her chair. She felt numb.

The séance continued for a few more minutes, as each of the other guests posed final questions to the spirits through Madame Lana. Taylor listened half-heartedly, longing for the peaceful escape of sleep. She slipped into her own thoughts, and focused on the messages she’d received from her mother and the spirit of the eerie clairvoyant of her own time, Rosalinda.

“Rose, are you feeling well enough?”

Taylor looked up into the sympathetic eyes of her host, surprised to realize that she was seated alone at the table.

“You’ve had quite an evening. I have a carriage outside to escort you home. Will you be all right?”

Taylor smiled weakly at her host. “It was a wonderful experience.” The words caught in her throat and she swallowed painfully.

“I’m glad,” he answered. “Please thank Maylee for sharing you with us tonight. I hope our paths will cross again. All I ask is that your experience only be shared with those very close to you. Many people in this city—in this world, for that matter—don’t understand the mysteries of spiritualism. I, myself, sometimes struggle with its concepts.” Shepard offered his hand, helping her to her feet.

Taylor allowed her host to walk her to the carriage outside. The ride back to Ida’s went quickly and her mind was thankfully quiet.

Noiselessly, Taylor climbed the stairs to her room and undressed, carefully hanging the beautiful gown in the wardrobe and placing Ida’s necklace on the bureau.

Tomorrow she would begin to gain Jackson’s confidence.

After all, lives were at stake.

Forever Rose: Chapter Fourteen

Torrid summer sunshine made Taylor’s room glow much too brightly as she struggled to open her eyes. She squinted against the glare, guessing at the time, suspecting she had overslept. During the night she had kicked off her light blanket and sheet, and the morning temperature was already climbing. The day felt decidedly slow and lazy, and she wasn’t looking forward to the feel of the hot sun on her back in the garden.

“Hello, up there! Rose! Get out of bed for morning tea!”

She pushed back the curtain to wave at Maylee who stood in the center of the backyard, sounding chipper and cheerful and looking very well rested. Maylee returned her wave.

“I’ll join you in a minute—after I wash up a little,” she answered. “Oh, and I have our money from last night. I’ll bring it down.” She looked forward to morning tea with Maylee and Ida. It had become a habit in the short time she’d been at Sherman House.

After a quick splash of lukewarm water on her face, smoothing her hair back, she dressed and made her way to the kitchen where she found Maylee taking teacups out of the cupboard, and then plates for the buttermilk biscuits she’d brought. Water was already boiling on the stove, so Ida must be up and about.

“My, you do look like you’ve had a rough night, Rose. I certainly hope it was to your benefit, child.” Maylee chuckled as she pulled out a chair for Taylor. “Sit, now, and tell me how the rest of your evening went with Mr. Shepard.”

Taylor smiled and handed the money purse to Maylee. She hungrily bit into a biscuit, suddenly famished, then added honey and milk to her tea, and stirred it thoughtfully. She wondered how much she should share with her.

“Come now, you’ve got me thinking that things became quite serious—what happened?” As she waited, Maylee carefully counted out the money they’d earned at the party, dividing it in half. She quickly put hers away in a pocket, deep in the folds of her beige cotton skirt, and left the rest on the table. She sat patiently waiting as Taylor grappled with her thoughts.

“Well, the concert was magnificent—unbelievably beautiful. Mr. Shepard really is a genius, like they say. You should have heard the sounds that came from that piano.”

“So you already knew of his talents, then?”

“Well, sort of...I mean, I guess I’d heard that he was a fantastic musician, though I never thought I’d have a chance to hear him.”
Or actually see him
.

“Go on,” Maylee urged.

“After the concert, I—”

“I see you both saw fit to start without me this morning,” Ida growled good-naturedly as she entered the room, looking groomed and gorgeous, as usual. Then she softened and turned to Taylor. “Are you all right this morning?”

“Fine, Ida, a little sleepy—why?”

“Last night, I heard sounds from your room and when I peeked in, you were sound asleep, crying. I was afraid to wake you.”

Taylor frowned. She had no recollection of any disturbances in her sleep. She felt a little groggy, but that was all.

“Well, I’m happy it was nothing,” Ida said, though her eyes betrayed her uncertainty.

“Oh, sit...sit. Rose was just beginning to tell about her evening.” Maylee poured tea for Ida and passed her the plate of biscuits.

“Tell me you were the prettiest one there, Rose. That dress looked so lovely on you. What was everyone wearing?” Ida asked.

Taylor grinned at the two ladies’ inquisition, delighted to recount the evening for their obvious pleasure. The sparkle in their eyes was reward alone.

“Ida, let her talk,” Maylee chided.

Taylor described every detail she could remember—from the colors and styles of the gowns to the elaborate coiffures worn by the elite ladies of San Diego. As best she could, she recounted the way the music made her feel, and how impossible the melodies and sounds seemed. Maylee and Ida hung on her every word, especially demanding particulars of who-said-what and about whom.

“All right, now tell us what happened after the guests left,” Maylee urged. She poured second cups of tea, and settled in for Taylor’s narrative.

“Maylee, did you know that Mr. Shepard has séances after his concerts? You should have at least warned me.”

“I’ve honestly never stayed anytime after the guests,” she answered, “though I’ve heard that strange things have happened there. Ida, what do you know about this? You must have heard something.”

“Actually,” Ida said, “I have heard that Mr. Shepard is involved in the First Spiritualist Society, though I’ve also heard that he flat out denies this.”

“He called the group the Spiritual Circle,” Taylor began, “and said that during his performance, he’d been given a message to invite me to stay. The medium—she was the one who channeled the spirits—was a woman named Madame Lana, and she listened to messages and passed them on to everyone at the—”

“—what do you mean, channeled?” Maylee interrupted.

“Someone who is supposed to be able to receive and transmit thoughts or actual messages from beyond the grave is said to channel a spirit, and sometimes even many different spirits will come.”

“When I was a child,” Maylee began, “I remember my grandmother acting strangely, going into a sleep but not quite asleep, you know? Then she would whisper and nod her head—is that what this woman did? Rose, how do you know these things?” Maylee asked.

“Well, my father raised me to be curious about all religions, and when I was growing up we visited many different ceremonies and services—temples and churches and synagogues.” It was something she’d appreciated even when she was young. It had been a fun learning experience and she treasured the memories. “He also taught me to keep an open mind—not to insist on limits, to believe in the unexplainable—to believe in miracles.” She sent her silent thanks to her father, so glad she had grown up in such an eclectic atmosphere.

“And what messages did Madame Lana have for you?” Ida asked quietly. “Perhaps that was what gave you bad dreams last night.”

Taylor hesitated a moment, then began to relate the emotional experience of her mother entering the medium’s body, finally revealing the intimate moment when she felt her mother’s arms encircling her for the first time.

Maylee dabbed her eyes at the conclusion of her story, noisily blowing her nose into her handkerchief. “That’s the most beautiful story I’ve ever heard. I don’t care what people say or think, a child knows her own mother, and if you say it was your mother...then, it was.”

Telling the story to Ida and Maylee brought Taylor’s emotions to the surface, a little surprised how vividly she could still feel the touch of her mother’s hand on her own. It had truly been a miracle, and one worth every moment of confusion and discomfort she’d felt over the past few days. It felt like a gift, one she had wished for her entire life.

“Rose, what do you think of leaving your garden today and accompanying my girls and me to the beach?” Ida asked. “It’s much too warm for you to work outside, and we’ve decided we need a day away. Interested?”

“I was hoping for a good excuse to leave the weeds alone, today, and now you’ve read my mind. What a fine idea. Maylee, will you come too?”

“Not this time. Lots to do at the hotel today. In fact, I’d better get myself back there and start some lunch for the guests. You have a good time without me—just bring me back a pretty shell if you find one.” Maylee put her dishes in the sink with a clatter and headed for the door.

“Maylee, are you sure you can’t come with us today? You need to take some time for yourself once in a while. You work much too hard.” Ida shook her finger at Maylee.

“Go...go, and have fun enough for me. I have work to do.” Careful not to let the back door slam, Maylee hurried back to the hotel.

“So, Miss Rose,” Ida began, “find something cool to wear and meet us out front in half an hour. I’ve rented one of the transfer buses to take all of us to Ocean Beach today.”

“A bus?”

“Well, my girls are not exactly welcome to join the rest of society in traveling among the people of our fair city, so I thought one of the pretty horse-drawn buses would be the perfect thing. Now, go on upstairs and change. I’ll pack our lunch and we’ll be on our way.” Ida’s pleasure showed in the warm smile that lit her entire face.