Shadow Lover (Siren Publishing Allure) (11 page)

Chyna walked among shadows. As she looked into the chilling darkness, she saw sinister faces with piercing eyes staring out at her.

"Chyna," one of the voices whispered through the darkness.

"Chyna," another tormented voice called her name.

Suddenly all the shadows were whispering her name. Some behind her, while others echoed from a long way off. One came from her left side, the other from her right. She put her hands over her ears, trying to keep the sound out, but still she heard them. All at once the shadows began moving toward her as if they were alive. She backed away, frightened. Then she turned, trying to run, but before she knew what was happening, a hulking figure came into the light and she saw the most hideous face she had ever seen, causing a scream to burst from her throat!

Chyna bolted up, a wet cloth falling from her forehead. She quickly grabbed her head when a pain stabbed her. "Ow!” she cried out, then looked over at Elaine. “Elaine, what—” she began, then looked around. “Where the hell am I?"

"You're in Frankenstein's castle."

As soon as she heard Elaine’s answer, she eased back down, a little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Cutting her eyes up at her new friend, she said, "I don’t suppose I'll ever hear the last of that one, will I?"

"Not if I have anything to do with it."

"How did I get here? The last thing I remember is my front door flying toward me."

“You’re lucky you’re alive,” she said, while dipping the cloth in some cool water and replacing it carefully on her forehead. "Quinn found you lying under a lot of debris, pulled you out, and here you are. He said he almost didn't see you. You were practically buried alive under tree limbs, brush, furniture, you name it."

"What a day to be out for a stroll. What was he doing, just passing by?"

"Hardly. We were worried about you, and he decided to go see if you were all right."

"God, what a headache I’ve got,” Chyna said, frowning. “What happened, do you know?"

"You must have hit your head. Quinn said there was blood all over the wall where you fell. Anyway, he brought you in and I patched you up."

She felt around on her head until she found the bandage. "I'm all right then? I mean, I don't have to go to the hospital or anything?"

"No, you'll be fine." Pulling back the curtain on the window, she added, "Besides, if you tried to go very far in this weather, you wouldn't need a hospital, you'd need a mortician."

Chyna’s eyes shifted, raking across the large supply of bandages, medicine, hypodermic needles, and small bottles of liquids. "My God, what are you a walking hospital?"

"Being a Registered Nurse, I keep us stocked up on all the medical supplies we might need in case of an emergency."

Chyna pointed. "What are those bags? They look like something you would use in a blood transfusion."

"You’re right. That’s what they are."

Chyna looked up at Elaine in disbelief. "You’re kidding. Remind me not to look in your refrigerator. I faint at the sight of blood."

Elaine felt a swift stab of pain that wiped the smile off her face. “Well, it…it’s just in case.”

Raking her eyes over all the outrageous medical paraphernalia, Chyna frowned. "Look, I can understand a bathroom full of pills, bandages, cough medicine and so forth. I even know a few hypochondriacs that have everything but the kitchen sink in their medicine cabinets, but—" She ran her hands through everything. "—this is a little ridiculous, isn't it?" She picked up suture needles and heavy thread, and looked up at Elaine. "When would you ever use this stuff?" All at once a mischievous light glinted in Chyna's eyes. “Frankenstein’s castle,” she said, thoughtfully. “Of course, now I get it.” Looking down at all the medical supplies, she said, “You're a female mad scientist, right? And you've got a dungeon downstairs with a monster in it that you've sewn together."

"Very funny," Elaine said, trying to force a smile at the joke that hit a little too close to home.

“Well don’t bust a gut laughing,” Chyna said, noticing Elaine’s thin smile. Just then a pain stabbed at her head, and she frowned. "So, you're a Registered Nurse, huh. Where do you work?"

"I’ve just started a new job with Dr. Vincent Wilder. His office is out on Beachwood, just before you get to the coast highway. Not too far from here, actually."

“Yeah? Where did you work before?”

“I was a night nurse at County Glen Hospital. I changed because of the hours.”

"Aren't you kind of wasted in a doctor's office? I mean, the hospital…"

"Oh, no. The doctor keeps me very busy, and I enjoy working with him." A dreamy look softened her eyes, and a shy smile tugged at her lips. "He's brilliant, and I've learned a lot."

Chyna smiled at her knowingly, then winked and said, "Good luck."

* * * *

The Lovelines Literary Group in New York bustled with activity. Reyna Phillips felt as if she had talked to every publisher in New York, doing everything from negotiating contracts to scheduling a fitting for a new dress. She looked down at phone messages she needed to return, and stretched, longing for a massage. Letting out a long sigh she picked up the phone one more time and began punching in numbers. With the phone pressed against her ear, she turned, leaning comfortably back in her chair while watching the rain outside her window. Just then Lyle Gardner came into her office with a portable TV and set it down in front of her.

The East Coast was hit by hurricane Carla this morning. The hardest hit was the little town of Mystic Islands where several homes along the coastline were destroyed. Included among those was the little cottage of Romance Novelist, Chyna Marsh…

When Reyna heard Chyna's name she lunged forward, whirled her chair around, and pushed herself forward. Staring curiously into the tiny little box, she spoke softly into the phone. "I'll call you back." Worried, she watched as pictures of the little town flashed across the screen. Grabbing up the phone once again, she punched in Chyna's number, but couldn't get through. She phoned evacuation shelters, hospitals, nearby hotels, and even people around Mystic Islands that she thought Chyna might know, but nothing. After slamming down the phone, she lunged up from her chair and began to pace nervously.

"Come on, Reyna, what's the problem? She'll probably call you. I'm sure she knows you're concerned. Besides, the book…"

"Screw the book, Lyle," Reyna growled as she pressed out a cigarette. "I don't give a damn about that, I just want to make sure Chyna is all right." Noticing Lyle's unconcern, she yelled down at him. "Don't you understand, you bastard? Her house was blown away. If she was okay she would have called by now. Something’s happened, I just know it." Reyna turned back to the TV when she heard Chyna's name again.

The area around Ms. Marsh’s home has been thoroughly searched, and in among the damage blood was found that might indicate Ms. Marsh is somewhere suffering or dead. The authorities have not given up the search for the famous novelist, but many seem to think it might be too late. Here we see several of her fans searching among the debris, and coming away with many of her personal items left ravaged by the storm
.

The picture panned the destruction, watching several people walking through, picking up items here and there, then suddenly the picture flipped to a place in town where a man was chewing on a match while looking into the camera. “I saw that little lady just a week ago, right here. I don’t know where she is, but I hope to God she didn’t go up that little road near her house. If she did, then she’s dead. I know that for a fact.”

“Road?” the reporter questioned, “what road to you mean, sir?”

A strange smile hovered on the man’s lips. “You’ll find out.” Having had his say, the old man abruptly turned from the camera, leaving the ominous message to mingle with the eerie coastal wind.

The reporter turned away reluctantly and scanned the crowd until he saw a young girl. “Do you read her books, miss?”

The girl blushed, and grinned. “Well…”

The reporter smiled. “Never mind, I withdraw the question.”

“Thanks,” the girl said, giggling. “My mother may be watching.”

“Let me ask you this instead. What do you think about Ms. Marsh’s mysterious disappearance? Could she have gotten lost on some old road like Mr. Walters said?”

“Gosh, I don't know. It is kind of mysterious. I know one thing. If they don't find her, I'll bet her books become even more famous. You know, like when an artist dies or something?”

The reporter’s eyes narrowed, taking on a curious gleam. “Tell me about the little road. Have you ever been up there before?”

“Up that old road? Gosh, no. I've heard there's a man up there that eats people.”

The reporter’s bland smile turned to one of disbelief. “You don't believe that, do you?”

“I don’t know. I guess not, but I'm not about to go up there and find out."

“Why,” he said, shrugging. “Aren't you curious?”

“Sure,” the girl said, snickering, “but not that curious.”

“Thank you,” the field reporter said, before turning back to the camera. “As you can see Joan and Doug, nobody knows the whereabouts of the famous novelist. It seems as if she has literally disappeared off the face of the earth. It’s a mystery almost as good as the ones she writes about. Back to you.”

Lyle looked at Reyna's unusual concern with a knowing smile on his face. "If I didn't know better, Reyna, I'd think your interest in this Marsh broad was more than just casual."

Reyna cut her eyes up at him with disgust, and snapped, "Oh, shut up, Lyle."

With a smirk, Lyle walked over to her desk and snapped off the TV. Lifting up the little five-inch-screen portable, he turned to leave. He got as far as the door, then not being able to resist the temptation, he turned a keen eye on Reyna’s worried face and said in a childish singsong voice, "I know a secret." His eyes widened when he saw Reyna jump up and chase after him with fire in her eyes.

"Bite it, Lyle," Reyna yelled, then angrily slammed the door on him. Walking back to her desk, she wondered if anyone had heard him.

The look on her face said—guilty as charged.

With Elaine’s expert care, Chyna seemed to be gaining her strength back very quickly. She had been given permission to get out of bed, but only for short periods. Now, pulling herself out of bed very slowly, she remembered Elaine’s express orders not to overdo it, and paid close attention to how she felt. If she began to feel dizzy, or weak, then she was to go back to bed and rest. She had expected her head to pound, or to see the room whirl about her, but actually she was quite steady, and became encouraged.

So far, so good,
she thought, balancing herself with flailing arms, refusing to walk with the assistance of the furniture. She wondered if going about the mansion to find Quinn would be too much. She had expected him to look in on her, but he hadn’t, and she was anxious to thank him for rescuing her from the hurricane.

After grabbing the robe Elaine had lent her, she opened the bedroom door and looked out into the hall. Everything was so deathly still, Chyna wondered if anyone was at home. She continued on, peering around open doorframes and searching for any sign of life. She knew she must look like an invalid as she at last found the main stairway and began creeping down each step while holding on to the wide baluster. Her attention was drawn to the study when she heard the flipping of paper. Hopefully, she’d found Quinn. When she made it to the bottom, she turned and looked at the mountain of stairs. She hadn’t thought about having to get back up them until now.

She looked around. Seeing everything in the bright light of day seemed very different. Her hands stroked the dark wood that Elaine managed to keep shining, then she looked up into the cavernous ceiling. “Uh oh,” she muttered, and quickly grabbed the newel post. “Mental note. Don’t to
that
anymore.” After steadying herself, she turned and carefully made her way to the study and peeked in. She saw Quinn’s dark head leaning over a stack of papers. Not wanting to disturb him she turned away, but not before he saw her and came rushing to his feet.

"Well, come in Ms. Marsh. How are you feeling?"

Coming face to face with the man in her dreams, Chyna was overwhelmed once again by his larger-than-life appearance and his dark, handsome looks. Like a schoolgirl she stared and felt if she opened her mouth a steady stream of disconnected words would rush out. She couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and stiff. Even as she stood in the shadow of the doorway, she could feel the power of his piercing eyes, and immediately saw something in them. Some kind of knowledge. As if the two of them shared a secret.

Possibly the restaurant,
she thought.
Certainly not the dreams… he wouldn’t know about them.

“I'm…I’m much better, thank you,” she said shyly. “Elaine's a wonderful nurse, and…well, I must say she's taking very good care of me."

"That's good," he said. “I’m sorry I haven’t been up to see you, but Elaine wouldn’t allow it.”

“I understand,” she said softly, while looking at his faintly colored lips. He honored her with a lopsided smile that revealed his white, sparkling teeth.