Viator (The Viator Chronicles Book 1) (17 page)

BOOK: Viator (The Viator Chronicles Book 1)
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“It’ll be fine. Dessert?” he asked.

“No, thanks.” Erin wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Coffee?”

Gary caught the waitress’s attention and ordered them both Irish coffees. After they finished, he paid the bill and they sped back to Erin’s house.

The sky was dark with the first stars shining overhead when they pulled into her driveway. She faced him. “Thanks for dinner. Do you want to come in?”

“I should get back—it’s a long drive. Henry reminded me I have an early meeting tomorrow,” he said.

“Okay.”

He got out of the car and walked around to open her door. She stepped out and put her hand on his arm.

“Be careful,” she said.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He smelled like fresh laundry, and she wondered why she had told him to be careful. He seemed like he could take care of himself.

“I’ve gotta run,” he whispered into her hair. “Next time I’ll stay longer.” He lifted her chin with his hand and kissed her again.

He let her go and walked around to the other side of the car, paused, and looked back. Then he climbed into his car and left.

She watched him drive down the road, then she turned and looked into the trees on either side of her driveway. The branches rustled in the wind, and a crow landed in a nearby tree, but other than that all was quiet.

Chapter 24

The glow from a streetlight overhead shone on the wet street in the darkness. A constant drizzle created ghost shapes of mist against the tall, blackened buildings lining the roads. A few derelict cars were parked next to the sidewalks, but no life stirred on the streets: no one, nothing.

Erin stood pressed against a cold brick building in an alley, listening. The drizzle had soaked through her jacket, and her hair hung damp and limp around her shoulders. She thought she’d heard a sound a moment before. It might have been a bird, or it might have been a scream. She reached with her mind again to try to make contact with her dreamer, but she still felt nothing. A crow landed in the street outside her alley, turned its head in Erin’s direction, and then flew off again. She brushed her hair from her face and followed it.

It landed on the wrought iron frame of a sign hanging above a narrow door in one of the dark brick buildings. The crow cawed, bobbed its head, and flew away. Erin crept close to the sign, difficult to read in the gloom.
Nocte Intempesta
. Dead of Night. Her mouth curled in a dry smile. She turned the doorknob and slipped inside.

A bit of flickering light from above cast a dim and shaky glow over the bleak entry. The concrete hall led to a narrow wooden staircase; the right side went up, and the left went down. Both ways were silent.

Erin pulled her sword from its sheath and ascended the stairs. Her boots made no noise, and her passing barely disturbed the dust on the floor. Light from the third floor shone down, but when Erin reached the second floor, she left the staircase and crept down the hall. It was darker away from the stairs, so she moved slowly and listened. The wood floors of the hall were worn and scratched, and there were no pictures on the walls. She came to the first door and pressed her ear against it for a moment. Her heart pounded, and her forehead was damp with sweat. She turned the doorknob and slowly pushed the warped door open. Erin held her breath. All she saw inside the room was a threadbare rug covering the floor. She moved down the hall.

She looked behind the four doors that lined the hallway, and each room was empty. The final door at the end of the hall was different. Made of unfinished wood, it appeared new. Erin turned the knob and pushed hard, but it was locked. She wiped her forehead with her sleeve and listened with her ear pressed to the door but heard only silence. The ceiling above creaked, so she turned and hastened down the hall to the staircase.

The light was still flickering, and Erin stopped to listen again when she reached the stairs. She heard nothing and climbed to the third floor. Taking a deep breath at the top, she crept down the hall to the room where the light glowed. A thick yellow candle rested on the floor, burned nearly all the way down, but nothing else was there. Erin sighed. The floor squeaked nearby.

Holding her sword in front of her, she tiptoed so lightly she nearly floated to the next room. She grasped the doorknob, but the door flew open, and an icy, black shape knocked her over as it raced past. She hit the ground hard, and her shoulder hurt with burning cold from its touch. A man dressed in black raced after it, jumping over her as he ran. Erin was on her feet and after them in an instant. They careened down the stairs, two black figures moving like the wind, and ran down the hall on the floor below. The shadow touched the locked door and it opened. It pushed its way inside, but before the door closed, the man slipped inside as well. The door slammed shut. Erin skidded to a stop and turned the knob. Locked. She heard muted sounds of scuffling and blows from beyond the door, then silence.

Erin retraced her steps to the third floor and went back to the door. A tall woman stood in the doorway, leaning heavily against the wall, dressed in white. Her long black hair tumbled down and obscured most of her face, but Erin knew her at once. It was Franny.

Franny collapsed to the floor. Erin sheathed her sword and dropped to her knees, lifting Franny’s head to her lap. She moaned and tried to push Erin away. “I don’t know what you want.”

“It’s all right. It’s Erin. Franny, it’s me. Look at me.”

Recognition lit up Franny’s face. “What happened?” She looked around, her eyes wild and wide. “What happened to that monster?”

“It ran away. It’s gone.” Erin looked in the direction of the stairs and wondered what did happen to it? And what happened to that man?

“Think for a minute. Tell me what happened.”

Franny began to cry. “No, I don’t know. It was horrible. That thing was so cold, and it hates me. It said it could hurt me forever. It said it had Momma, and it was hurting her. It doesn’t have Momma, does it? Did I let Momma go just to have that thing get her?”

Erin hugged her and said, “No, no. Your mother is safe. She is beyond its reach forever now—it can’t touch her. It’s full of lies. Don’t believe what it tells you.” Erin smoothed Franny’s hair from her face. “Don’t be afraid. You’re stronger than they are.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you are. If another tries to hurt you, tell it to be gone. Don’t believe what it tells you.”

Franny looked at Erin’s face. She nodded and closed her eyes. Erin held her, cradling her head in her arms until Franny finally faded away from her dream.

Chapter 25

Erin helped a customer in the store as two more waited. Ed was late coming in, and she hoped he’d get there soon—she was supposed to give a piano lesson in thirty minutes. The store had been busy all morning, but Erin had been distracted, thinking about Gary’s distressing phone call the night before and hoping his meeting had gone well. She wondered what Kenneth had to do with Gary’s business.

After the last customer made her purchase and walked out the door, she heard her cell phone ring and ran to her studio to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hi, Erin. It’s Aleesha. Come to lunch with me today.”

Erin looked out the window. The morning was cool but clear with the promise of becoming a beautiful day.

“I’d love to, but I’ve got to give a lesson soon. And Ed hasn’t even gotten here yet. It’s been a busy morning. I don’t think I can get away.”

“Nonsense. You’ve got to eat. You’ll work even harder if you don’t have low blood sugar, darling. We’ll keep it short. I’ll meet you at Marina Cafe after your lesson—say at noon?”

Erin laughed. “All right. See you then.”

Erin put her phone back, turned around and gasped. Michael Woodward was leaning against the doorframe watching her.

“Hi,” he said.

He straightened and stepped into the room, looking even taller than usual in jeans and boots, his dark hair combed back from his face. His eyes seemed to see deep inside her, and Erin trembled, feeling the urge to back away from him, but instead she stood up and reached out her hand. “It’s good to see you.”

He clasped her hand. “You too. I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation, so I know you’re busy. If another time would be better, just let me know, and I can come back. I wanted to find some music.”

“You’ve come to the right place. I’m never too busy to help someone find music. What are you looking for?”

“There’s a piece by Schubert, I believe. Somewhat melancholy … thoughtful. I’m not sure which one it is. I was hoping you could help me find it?”

Erin looked at him with surprise. “I love Schubert. There are a lot of pieces that fit that description, though. For piano?”

“Yes.”

“Do you play?”

“Sometimes, a little.”

She pulled out sheet music from the pile of papers on her table. “This is one of my favorites—‘Night and Dreams.’”

Erin opened the music and began to play. The melody was a mixture of joy and sorrow, and she couldn’t help but be moved by the beauty of the piece. She played for three or four minutes.

“It’s beautiful,” Michael said. “It’s just what I was looking for.”

Erin smiled. “Wonderful. I can find you a new copy.”

They went into the main part of the store, and Erin thumbed through the sheet music and found the piece he wanted. They continued looking through the music at the different selections.

“Did you enjoy Aleesha’s little get-together the other day?” she asked.

“Yes, I did. Thanks for showing me around. I enjoyed you as much as the gallery.”

Erin glanced at him to see if he was joking, but his face was as serious as ever.

“Bruce and I stayed and had a very entertaining afternoon. My brother—he and Aleesha seem to have really hit it off. I had a hard time prying him away at all.”

Erin hadn’t heard anything about this. She wondered what Aleesha thought and was glad they were having lunch together so soon. “Really?” was all she said. Then she remembered the strange dream she’d had about Bruce, and she looked up at Michael.

“How is Bruce?” she asked.

He spoke softly. “He’s all right.”

Erin felt a wave of relief and nodded her head. “Good. Has he gone back to Portland?”

“Yes, he left this morning.” He leaned back against the counter.

Erin pulled out a few more music selections and glanced through them. “Do you think he wants to see Aleesha again?”

Michael grinned. “No doubt in my mind.”

“Really? Aleesha never dates.”

“She does now.”

Erin opened her eyes wide. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, she’s seeing my brother this Saturday. He can’t stay away from her and is coming back for the weekend.”

Erin’s mouth dropped. “I can’t wait to talk to her.”

Michael laughed. His eyes beamed, and his face, which seemed so angular when he was serious, softened. Erin wondered how she could have felt afraid of him when she had first seen him this morning.

“Would you like to try these pieces by Schubert, too?” she asked, handing him two more pieces of music.

“Thank you.” His face became serious again. “Thank you very much.”

“Anytime.”

They both stood there in silence.

“I’ll let you get back to work then,” Michael said.

“Thanks for coming in.” Erin reached out her hand. He grasped it, and for a moment they stood still.

“It was nice to see you again.” He turned around and left. Erin watched him walk out of the shop and then went back to her studio to prepare for her next student. After a few minutes, she stopped and looked out the window. What was it about Michael that was so compelling? She saw his eyes vividly in her mind. She shook her head, sighed, and turned back to the piano.

By lunchtime she had finished the lesson, and Ed had arrived. She grabbed her jacket and went to meet Aleesha.

“Here I am,” Aleesha called out to her as she entered the cafe. She stood up and kissed Erin on the cheek, then hugged her. Aleesha was obviously feeling good.

Erin decided to jump right to it. “All right, I have to know what’s going on with you and Michael Woodward’s brother.”

Aleesha didn’t hesitate. “Darling, he is the most wonderful man. I’m crazy about him.”

“I’m amazed,” Erin said. “How did this happen?”

“I don’t know. I realize I’ve said many times that I don’t want a man to clutter up my life, so this must be very surprising. It is to me, too. But when Michael introduced me to Bruce, I felt like he had just given me Michelangelo’s David. I’ve never been so drawn to anyone before. All I can think about is Bruce. I’m hopeless, Erin.”

“Have you seen him since? Does he feel the same way about you?” Erin asked.

“Oh, yes, he does. We spent all day Sunday together, even though he was a bit under the weather. Monday he spent the day with me at the gallery, and we had dinner together that night. We were together Tuesday and all that evening, and then this morning he had to drive back to Portland. He’s coming back Friday night.”

“Oh, my gosh. It’s really true.”

“Very true. I had to tell you about it, but I’ve been so busy with him that I haven’t had a chance until now.”

“This is so sudden, it has me concerned. Be careful,” Erin said.

Aleesha squeezed Erin’s hand. “I knew you’d say that. You are always so careful yourself. All I can say is that this is unlike anything I’ve felt before, and I like it. I’m not worried at all. But I won’t do anything stupid, dear.”

“Good.”

The waitress took their orders and brought them some iced tea.

“Michael Woodward came into the shop this morning,” Erin said. “Have you seen much of him these past few days?”

“A little,” Aleesha said. “We spent some time at his house and had dinner with him last night. He is a charming man.”

Erin sipped her tea. “Hmm. Do you ever feel a little odd around him? As if he can see through your clothes?”

Aleesha laughed. “No. I never noticed that. He’s always been extremely pleasant. Much quieter and more serious than his brother, but—maybe it’s because he writes thrillers—I understand how he could seem a bit intimidating.”

BOOK: Viator (The Viator Chronicles Book 1)
6.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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