Viator (The Viator Chronicles Book 1) (22 page)

BOOK: Viator (The Viator Chronicles Book 1)
11.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

They walked down the street the way Erin had come, past the pastel houses and lovely gardens. The sky blazed red and purple as the sun set, and a slight breeze carried the fragrance of honeysuckle and stirred the leaves on the trees.

“What is she?” Erin asked.

“Who? Salina?”

“Yes, she told me she had never lived in my world—our world. Where does she come from?” Erin asked.

“Salina and the others like her live here between the branches of the great river. They help us with our work and help others in different ways as well. I’ve seen her heal a deep gash on a man’s arm with a song. Her touch is even more potent.”

“Michael, why did the others distrust me so?”

He slowed his pace. “We have all become wary, and you should be wary, too.”

“Of treachery?”

“Yes. Here we are—we can take this boat across.”

They had walked down to the river’s edge where a small pier jutted from the shore into a little bay. No houses stood nearby, only a few trees in the grass and the rocky shore of the river. A boat was tied up to the wharf with oars resting in the bottom. Erin stepped into it while Michael untied the line and jumped in after her. He picked up the oars and started to row while she turned around and watched the shore fade into the twilight.

Michael’s strokes took them out into the middle of the river, and all was calm. The first stars glittered in the dark sky above. He stopped rowing.

She couldn’t see his face in the shadows, but she could tell he hadn’t stopped to look at the stars; he was looking at her. Her heart beat faster. She looked back at him even though she couldn’t see his eyes. He was black in the shadows and sat very still.

“You went to Gary Arthur in his dream. Do you know him?” Michael asked.

Erin was startled. “Gary? I know him in day life. Why? Do you know him?”

“I know him only in his dreams.”

Erin’s heart beat several times in the silence.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Will you remember this in the waking world?” he asked.

“Probably not. I try to remember these dreams, but they fade quickly. I get so frustrated.”

“You don’t know who you are.”

She waited for him to explain, and he finally said, “You would be wise not to visit Gary in his dreams. He puts you at risk because he doesn’t allow you to use your power. His beliefs prevent it.”

Erin nodded. She didn’t like it but knew it was true. “Why don’t I remember these dreams?”

He began rowing again and shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe you want to forget.”

She frowned. She barely remembered Conn. The memory was as faint as her memories of being a toddler. A pain stabbed through her chest—William died the night she had met Conn.

Michael stopped rowing. “Are you all right?”

She caught her breath. “Yes. I was trying to remember more, but it’s painful.”

“Just give it time.” He resumed his slow, rhythmic rowing.

There was so much more Erin wanted to ask him, and she remembered something Salina had said.

“Salina and the others mentioned someone named Sean. What happened to him?”

He was silent for a moment, and she felt his eyes on her. “Sean was my youngest brother. A dreamer led him into an ambush. He was killed by mortifers.”

“Killed? How? Surely not really killed.” Erin’s heart pounded harder, and her stomach felt queasy.

He whispered, “Yes. In life, he suffered a brain aneurysm and never awakened.”

The night was suddenly icy cold, and Erin shivered. She bent her head to her hands and covered her face, crumpling with exhaustion. Michael pulled out a blanket and handed it to her, and she gratefully wrapped it around her. The rough warm wool helped calm her trembling. She wanted to try to stay awake, though. She had so many more questions, but she lay down on the bench and held the blanket close.

The sound of Michael’s rowing soothed her, and her consciousness drifted with the rise and fall of the boat. Time didn’t seem to matter any longer, so she was surprised when the hull of the boat finally scraped against rocks. Michael shipped the oars and reached over to touch her shoulder. She could barely open her eyes as he tucked the blanket more firmly around her and picked her up. Her head rested against his shoulder and neck, and she felt the roughness of his face. He smelled like pine trees in the evening, and it made her think of camping, warmth, and firelight. A sense of intimacy with this man rushed through her. She wrapped her arm around his neck and turned her lips to his warm skin. She pressed her face closer to him.

“Are we already there?” she whispered.

“What is it?” The voice sounded like Gary.

“What?” she asked and opened her eyes. Gary was lying next to her, leaning on his elbow, his eyes drowsy. The room was dim and the blankets had fallen onto the floor. He smiled at her. “You were talking in your sleep.”

She still felt as if she were in her dream, still felt as if Michael were carrying her. She could almost feel his arms, his face, and smell his scent.

“I was dreaming,” she said. She pulled the blankets over them.

Gary pulled her closer to him and buried his face in her hair. He relaxed and dozed off again, but Erin woke up completely. The dream had vanished. She was in bed with Gary. How had she let this happen?

She waited a few minutes until she was sure Gary was asleep, and then she eased herself out of his embrace, slipped into her robe, and tiptoed down the stairs. Without a sound she went out the kitchen door and ran barefoot to the beach.

Chapter 31

The high tide lapped against the shore, and a cutting wind sent shivers through her body as Erin climbed onto a large driftwood log and sat down. The clouds hid any possible light from moon or star, but Erin welcomed the dark. Waves slapped against the log, splashing salty water into the air. She pulled her bare legs up close to her body and let the wind whip her robe around while her skin became a mass of goosebumps. She sighed and rested her head on her knees.

How foolish she’d been to drink so much. And then to be so swept away that she slept with Gary in the same bed she’d shared with William, and with her children sleeping in the next rooms. Her stomach ached. She looked out over the water at the dark swells bringing in the tide. How did she feel about Gary? He was intelligent and fun. She liked him, and she was sure he cared about her. That was a start. He had been wonderful during the fiasco of a day on Orcas Island. His attention and obvious attraction to her were as intoxicating as the wine she’d had with dinner. Her grief had left her parched, and he had come into her life like a rainstorm.

The sky grew lighter, the tide began to ebb, and Erin climbed off the log and stood still on the rocky beach. The cold wind had made her stiff and numb, and she felt chilled through to her bones. She picked up a handful of rocks and threw them one by one into the water.

Pieces of her dream flitted through her mind—she saw the pastel houses, the sunshine, the laughing people. She saw Michael’s face and remembered his soft pine scent. She stood still on the beach, her heart pounding.

She turned around and looked up at her house. A light switched on upstairs in her bedroom. Gary must be awake. Erin ran back into the house and up the stairs, where she could hear him talking to someone. He was on his phone. She quietly opened her bedroom door.

Gary’s face looked twisted with shock as he listened to the caller. He was sitting up on the bed, his feet on the floor, a sheet draped across his lap. He glanced at her.

“No, no, there’s nothing you can do,” he said into his phone and paused, listening. Erin sat beside him cross-legged on the bed. She could hear the voice on the other end of the line. It was a man’s voice—shrill and loud.

“You think he knows who it was?” Gary asked.

Again Erin could hear the shrill voice, then both Gary and the voice were silent. Gary covered his face with his hand and combed his fingers back through his hair. He looked at the ceiling.

“Shit,” he whispered. Then louder, “I’ll head back now. Where is he?” A pause. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. About an hour and a half.” He disconnected and looked at Erin. The color was drained from his face, and his eyes were hard and cold. He looked away again.

“I’ve got to go. My partner Henry was shot. He’s in the hospital. I’ve got to get down there.”

“Oh, my God. He was shot?” Erin was horrified. She reached her hand out and rested it on his knee. “Of course. Go see Henry. Is there anything I can do? How about if I make you some coffee for the road?”

“Yeah,” he said. “That’d be good.” He stood up and pulled on his pants and shirt. Erin jumped off the bed and went downstairs to start the coffee. It was just about ready when Gary came down, fully dressed, hair combed and face washed. Erin filled a tall travel mug and handed it to him. He took a sip, put the mug on the counter, and pulled her close.

“I don’t want to leave,” he groaned. He crushed her close to him and kissed her hard, then picked up his coffee and rushed out the door.

Erin poured herself a cup and looked at the clock; it read five forty-five. She sat down at the dining table. Henry shot, one of Gary’s close colleagues. How horrible. She wondered if Gary was in any danger. She’d never seen him so upset before; he’d looked outraged.

*****

Michael opened his eyes to the darkness of his room and checked the clock on his nightstand—four-ten. He rolled onto his back and lay there staring upward with his hands behind his head, thinking about the dream. Someone must have awakened Erin to pull her away so abruptly. Maybe one of her kids. He hoped everything was all right.

He smiled thinking of their visit to Domus. Salina could certainly stir things up. But Erin had held her own. Ariston was even impressed in the end. The work had become so much more interesting since he’d discovered Erin there, and he found himself always watching for her to show up in whatever dream he entered. He hadn’t wanted her to leave so abruptly from their dream tonight. When he’d picked her up, she had embraced him and pressed her lips to his neck, stirring feelings in him he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He heard the soft voices of Bruce and Aleesha in his guest room. Apparently Bruce was awake now too. After his visit with Salina, Bruce should be feeling much better, and he’d be even more amorous with Aleesha. Besides being a wonderful healer, Salina also enhanced sexual desire. Michael rolled over, covered his head with a pillow, and drifted back to sleep.

Chapter 32

“Mommy, can we have pancakes?” Gwen’s voice stirred Erin to consciousness. She had fallen asleep with her head resting on the dining room table. She lifted her head, and her neck and shoulders ached.

“Sure.” She looked at the clock. Half past seven.

“Can I help?”

“All right.”

They woke Matt and ate pancakes together. Erin made another pot of coffee and joined her children on the couch for Saturday morning cartoons.

Her head still hurt, but watching cartoons with her children was a welcome distraction. After a while, though, her thoughts drifted back to Gary’s friend. Finally, about ten o’clock she dragged herself off the couch, went upstairs, and called Aleesha. She might know something about Henry’s background and why someone would want to shoot him, or maybe she could find out something from Kenneth.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Leesh, it’s Erin. Are you going to be around today at all? Could I stop by?”

“I’m at Michael Woodward’s house, dear, but we’d love to have you stop by,” Aleesha said. “Is everything all right?”

Erin paused. “You’re where?”

“Bruce is in town.”

“Oh, of course. Everything’s fine—I’d just like to talk with you.” Erin brushed her hair away from her face. “Gary was over last night.”

“That’s great. I’m so glad you two are hitting it off together,” Aleesha said.

“Do you know his friend Henry?”

“Umm, yes, I have met him once or twice.”

“He was shot last night and is in the hospital,” Erin whispered.

“What? Shot? Who shot him?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know any details. Gary got a call from someone, and he left right after to go see Henry. I haven’t heard any more.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Yes. What do you know about Henry? What’s he like?” Erin asked.

“He’s a lawyer. A decent-enough man, so far as I know—divorced, middle-aged, drinks too much. I really don’t know a lot.”

“Gary called him a business partner.”

“Yes, they work together. I believe they make good money. Kenneth has done some work with them in the past. Darling, I’ve got to run now, but will you come to Michael’s?”

“Are you sure I won’t be in the way?” Erin asked.

“Of course not—we’d all love to see you and the kids. You and I can wander off by ourselves for a tête-à-tête.”

“Where does he live?”

Aleesha gave her directions, and Erin was getting ready to step into the shower when the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi.”

“Gary, how’s Henry?”

“He’s okay. Right now he’s asleep. They finished surgery, and he’s pulling through.”

“Thank God,” Erin said.

“Yeah.”

There was a little silence.

“I’d like to come see you tomorrow,” Gary said.

“Oh. Yes, do come. I’ve promised the kids a picnic by Deception Pass. Come with us.” Erin lay back on her bed and gazed out the window.

“What time?”

“Can you get here by noon or one?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

She sat up. “Do they know who shot him?”

Another silence. “They’ve got some leads but nothing for sure.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hold on a minute.”

“Sure.” Erin heard the muffled sound of a man’s angry voice speaking to Gary. He snapped back, and there was more heated conversation, but Erin couldn’t hear what was said.

Gary came back on the phone. “Sorry. I’d better go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“All right. See you then.”

Erin stared at the floor for a few minutes wondering about Henry. She shuddered, then got up and looked out her window at the Sound. The sun was shining, but the wind blew the water into whitecaps. A small sailboat rushed past, heeled over so its gunnel nearly touched the water. Erin watched it sail past, then she got into the shower.

BOOK: Viator (The Viator Chronicles Book 1)
11.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Spellbreaker by Blake Charlton
You Don't Know Me Like That by ReShonda Tate Billingsley
Castleview by Gene Wolfe
Kissing Kin by Elswyth Thane
A Prayer for the Ship by Douglas Reeman
The Piper by Lynn Hightower
Consumed by Fire by Anne Stuart