The Twilight Before Christmas (13 page)

“Aren’t you going to stop me, Kate? One of us should know what we’re doing.” He wanted to be fair with her. She was exhausted and obviously not thinking straight, arching into his hand, pushing closer, rubbing her body against his. Soft little moans came from her throat, driving him right over the edge. He found himself kissing her again and again, long hot kisses that pushed their temperatures even higher.

Her lips smiled under the assault of his. “I know exactly what I’m doing, Matthew, you’re the one who’s unclear.” Her hands dropped to the buttons of her blouse.

There was a strange roaring in his ears. He had waited years for this moment. Kate Drake in his home. In his arms. Kate’s body open to his exploration. It would take a lifetime to satisfy him. More than that. Much more. Her blouse fell open, exposing the creamy swell of her breasts. White lace cupped her skin lovingly.

Matt stared down at her body, mesmerized by the sight of his large hand holding her, his thumb brushing her nipple through the white lace. For one moment, it occurred to him he was making the entire thing up. Kate Drake. His Christmas present. He bent his head to her breast, his mouth closing around soft flesh and lace. His tongue teased and danced over her nipple while his arms enfolded her closer.

The pounding on the front door was abrupt, loud, and unexpected. Kate cried out, and he felt her heart beneath her skin jump with fear.

Matt lifted his head, his gray eyes appearing silver as they smoldered with a mixture of anger and desire. “Don’t worry, Katie.” He pulled the edges of her blouse together. Why couldn’t the world leave them alone for one damned hour? Was that too much to ask?

Kate buttoned her blouse and tried to finger comb her hair. He caught her wrist and brought her hand to his mouth. “You look beautiful. Whoever it is can just go away.”

She waited in the middle of his living room while he yanked the door open. The sheriff stood there, his fist poised for another assault. “Jonas, I’m beginning to think our friendship is going to suffer,” Matt greeted with a scowl.

Jonas pushed right past him. “Come on out here and take a look at this.” His voice was grim. He stalked through the house to the ocean side, pushing open the double doors leading to the deck overlooking the sea. “What the hell is going on, Kate?”

The fog whirled around the house as if alive. Dark and gray and gloomy, the mist was thick, almost oily. It crept up the walls and swirled around the chimney. Jonas glared at the fog. “No one can drive anywhere. Car accidents are happening all over town. Your sister Elle called. She’s in the islands and yet she had
the exact same dream as Jackson and the children.
How could she have the same dream? She said to tell you the symbols meant something. When I asked her what they meant she said you would know.”

Both men looked at Kate. She hesitated, trying to remember, but there was nothing that seemed to be of great significance. “There were symbols on the seal, but the only thing of importance I could read was that a locking spell had been placed on the lid to hold something in the ground. I’ll call Elle and ask her to give me details. Is she on her way home? She was going to try to make it back for Christmas.”

“She said she’d be catching a late flight.” Jonas stared at the thick gray blanket of mist, frowning as he did so. “The worst of the fog seems to be centered here. It’s much heavier around your house, Matt. People are going to start dying if we don’t figure out what’s going on. We’ve been lucky, most people pulled their cars over to wait it out and the accidents that have occurred have been minor. But it would be very easy to drive off the cliff in this dense fog. We’ve asked the radio stations to alert everyone to the driving hazards.”

“I’m guessing you called the weather station and the meteorologists there told you this fog is unnatural,” Matt said with a small sigh. The supernatural wasn’t his realm of expertise, but he had the feeling he was going to have to learn more about it very fast. A part of him had hoped it would all go away. Instead, the fog was wrapped tightly around his house. He glanced at Kate. She stood very still, her hand to her throat, staring out into the dark gray mist. There was fear on her face.

Anger began to smolder in the pit of his belly, not hot and fiery, but ice-cold and clear, dangerous and deadly, an emotion he recognized from his combat days. Matthew took Kate by the shoulders and pulled her back, away from the deck and into the safety of the house. “Did Sarah say whether or not they found anything in the diaries, Jonas? They were all looking, hoping to find an explanation.”

Jonas shook his head. “Sarah said she doesn’t have a clue as to what’s going on, but she thought with all the sisters concentrating, they might be able to drive this fog back to sea to give us more time to figure it out.”

Matt’s hands tightened on Kate’s shoulders. “I don’t want you to do it again, Katie. I think you’re making it angry, and it’s striking back at you. Why else would it have followed us to my house and stayed here?” He couldn’t articulate the emotions the fog gave off, but there was something dark and ugly about it that reeked of pitiless hostility. He didn’t want Kate anywhere near it.

“We can’t take chances, Matthew,” Kate said, her voice trembling. She pressed her lips together. Instinctively she moved back toward Matt as if for protection. “Jonas said there have already been traffic accidents.”

Matt could feel her reluctance. Whatever was in the fog had grown in strength and intensity. The previous night it had been an eerie annoyance; now it seemed darker… more aggressive and dangerous.

“The fog swept through town, Kate, right after the two of you left Jackson’s house,” Jonas explained. “People came out of their houses to stand there and watch it. The sheriff’s office logged well over a hundred calls. When it receded, it left behind a mess. All over town gifts left outside, everything from bicycles and ATVs to garden furniture, were smashed and covered with sea trash—sand, kelp, driftwood, smashed seashells, you name it. Even crabs crawling around.” Jonas pushed back his hat and rested his gaze on Kate’s face. “The worst damage was done to the town square. The three wise men statues were all but destroyed, and the gifts they carried were ground into the lawn. The statues had kelp wrapped around their necks and wrists and ankles. It was bizarre and ugly and it scared everyone enough that the folks on the committee are concerned about the safety of the men playing the parts of the wise men in the pageant. Do you think it was a warning?”

Kate rubbed at her throbbing temples. She was already so tired. She felt drained and just wanted to lie down for a few hours. “I honestly don’t know, Jonas, but the entity is accelerating its destructive behavior.”

“Dammit, Kate, what the hell could be alive in the fog?” Matt burst out, wanting to throttle the thing. “I don’t want you anywhere near this stuff. Why do you have to be the one to face it?”

“My voice. The others can channel through me. And Hannah can call up the wind to drive it back to sea.”

He wasn’t touching that. It sounded like witches and spells and things he saw in movies, not in real life.

Matt began a slow massage at the nape of Kate’s neck to help ease the tension out of her. “Katie, why would this thing smash gifts? If it’s capable of destroying things and moving objects as it did with the wreaths on the doors, why such a silly, almost petty display? Why do the gifts bother it? What would be the significance?”

Jonas followed them back to the sliding glass door. “That’s a good question. Is that all it can do? When the calls started coming in I thought it was kids and childish pranks. Smashing gifts and outdoor ornaments and leaving behind dead fish are relatively harmless acts of vandalism a kid might do. Well, at least I thought a kid might be the culprit until I saw the three kings smashed to pieces. Jackson came out to the square to take a look at the damage, and he said the scene was reminiscent of his nightmare.”

Kate shook her head. “I think it’s growing stronger, testing its abilities. It doesn’t feel childish to me. It used wreaths, a symbol often associated with Christmas, and now gifts. Elle said the symbols matter. Gifts obviously are another symbol of Christmas.” She sighed and rubbed at her temples. “Obviously this thing does not like Christmas at all. Any guesses as to why?”

“I have no idea,” Matt said. He used his body to gently shepherd her farther back into the room, wanting to close the doors against the fog.

She turned in his arms and pressed her body close to his for strength and comfort. “My sisters are waiting. Even Libby. It isn’t easy to sustain a channeling for any great length of time.”

Matt tightened his arms around her, holding her captive, holding her safe. He buried his face against her neck. “I hate this, Kate. You have no idea how much. I want to pack you up and take you far away from this place. I know you’re in danger.”

“If I don’t do this, Matthew, one of my sisters will try, and they don’t have my voice.” She hugged him hard and slowly pulled away from him.

Matt allowed her to slip from his arms, taut with fear for her when she stepped onto the deck. He stepped beside her. Close. Protective. Daring the thing to come through him to get to her. Jonas took up a position on her other side. Kate closed her eyes and raised her face to the sky.

A breeze from the sea fluttered against her face. She felt the cooling touch. She felt the joining of her sisters. All seven, together yet apart. Strength flowed into her, through her. She lifted her arms and knew Hannah stood on the battlement of their ancestral home and simultaneously did the same.

Matt heard the moaning of the wind. Out on the ocean, the caps on the waves reached high and foamed white. The fog became frenzied, whirling and spinning madly, winding around Kate so that for a moment it obscured Matt’s vision of her. He reached out blindly, instinctively, and yanked her into the protection of his body. “This is bullshit, Kate.” He pressed her face against his chest and wrapped his arms around her head to keep the fog from getting at her.

Kate didn’t struggle. She didn’t act in any way as if she noticed. Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, yet the wind carried it into the bank of mist, and it vibrated through the vapor, taking on a life of its own. Kate remained against him, her eyes closed but her chanting continuing, a gift of harmony and peace, of contentment and solidarity. She called on the elements of the earth. Matt heard that clearly.

Voices rose on the wind. Seawater leaped in response to the chant, waves rising high, bursting through the fogbank and breaking it into tendrils out over the ocean. The wind howled, gathering strength, rushing at them, bringing the taste of salt and droplets of water to brush over their faces. Thunder crashed, shaking the deck. Still the voices continued, and the tempest built.

“Hannah.” Jonas said her name softly, slightly awed by the raw power forged and controlled between the sisters.

Kate took a deep breath and let go. Let go of her sisters and her body and the physical world she lived in to enter the shadow world. Far off, she heard the echo of Hannah’s frightened cry. The world wasn’t silent as one would expect. She never got used to that. There were noises, moans and cries, not quite human, unidentifiable. Static, the sound of a radio not tuned properly. And the terrible howl of the wind endlessly blowing. It was cold and bleak and barren. A world of darkness and despair. She looked around carefully, trying to find the one she was seeking.

She wasn’t alone. She could feel others watching her. Some were merely curious, others hostile. None were friendly. She was a living being, and they were long gone. Something slithered close to her feet. She felt the touch of something slimy against her arm. Kate took another breath and called out softly. At once she saw it. A terrifying sight. Tall, bare white bones, the skull ghastly with a gaping mouth and empty sockets for eyes. It wasn’t fully formed. A great hole was in the chest cavity. The ribs were missing. It came striding toward her, and she noticed that the skeleton wore old-fashioned boots stuck at the end of the sticklike bones of its legs. She might have laughed had it not been so frightening. The bones rattled as it rushed toward her, deadly purpose in every bone.

“Kate!” Abigail’s cry echoed Hannah’s and Sarah’s.

Kate held up her hand to ward the thing off as it reached her.

Matt felt Kate’s energy crackling in the air around them, a fierce force never wavering, yet her slender body shook with the effort, or maybe with fear, crumbling beneath the strain. Without warning he felt every hair on his body stand up. Kate went sickly pale. Afraid for her, he swept her up into his arms and held her tight against his chest, the only thing he could do to shelter her from the onslaught of the wind and the menace of the fog.

Kate wrenched herself from the shadow world, opened her eyes, expecting to see Matt. Empty sockets stared back at her. The skull’s mouth gaped wide, the jaw loose, bony fingers wrapping around her throat. She screamed and pulled away, trying to run when there was nowhere to go. The pressure on her throat increased. She choked.

The wind rose to a howl. Feminine voices became commanding. The bony fingers slid from Kate’s throat. She fell to the ground and stared in horror as the voices of the Drake women forced the skeleton away from her one dragging step at a time. Those pitiless empty eye sockets stared at her with malice. Kate tried to scoot crablike in the opposite direction, feeling sick as the entity clacked white bones together in a dark, ugly promise of retaliation.

The wind blew sand into the air, obscuring Kate’s vision. She squeezed her eyes closed tightly against the new assault. At once she felt Matt’s body pressed close to hers. Afraid to look, she lifted her lashes, hands out in front of her for protection. Matt’s reassuring face was there, the planes and angles familiar to her. She buried her face against his throat, felt the warmth of his body leeching some of the icy cold from hers.

The fog crept back toward the ocean slowly, almost grudgingly, retreating from around the house and deck to the beach, with obvious reluctance. With Kate safely in his arms, Matt stared in horror at the wet sand. Distinct footprints were left behind, as if someone had backed toward the ocean with short, dragging steps, a man’s boots with run-down heels. A cold chill swept down his spine. His gaze went from the prints in the sand to Jonas. “What the hell are we dealing with here?”