Grave Attraction (28 page)

“Are you all right? Are you shot?” Her hands skimmed over his body as if searching for signs of injury.

“I'm okay. Just winded.” He pushed himself to sitting. His head was pounding and his jaw hurt like hell, but otherwise he felt fine. “Where's Jeremiah?”

She jerked her head to the left. “Over there. He's alive—for now.”

Adam followed her line of vision and saw Jeremiah curled up in the tall grass, clutching his upper thigh. In the dark, it was impossible to gauge the extent of his injuries, but a rifle shot at close range usually left a pretty nasty wound.

His gaze tracked back to Marlena. A metal collar circled her neck like the one she'd been wearing when he first saw her inside Brentwood's house. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, I'm fine. I—”

He dragged her into his arms and crushed her against his chest. He needed this. Needed her. Even more than he needed to breathe. When he finally loosened his hold, it was only to tilt her head back and claim her mouth in a searing kiss. God, she tasted like fucking heaven, and he doubted he'd ever get enough of her. Her mouth softened, yielding to him, and a feeling of such profound tenderness washed over him that for an instant, the world melted away.

He wanted more, but not here, not now. They'd have plenty of time for that later. First, they had to tie up some loose ends.

“What's wrong?” Marlena asked when he pulled away.

Before he could answer, the sound of footsteps approaching made them both jump and had Adam grabbing for the rifle.

“Adam, is that you?”

Immediately, Adam recognized the voice, and he loosened his grip on the rifle. “Martin?”

“Yeah.” The footsteps drew closer and Martin came into view, dressed in camo pants and a plain brown short-sleeve T-shirt. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“I was about to ask you the same question.”

Martin tapped his watch. “Got a twelve eighteen at this address. Did Ruby double-book us?”

“No, but I'm probably the reason you're here.” Adam stood and gave Marlena a hand up before brushing the dirt off his pants. “Was there one or two on your schedule?”

“Only one. Why?”

He glanced over at Jeremiah, who was still on the ground clutching his wounded leg. “Just curious. I didn't know you were coming, so I already took your reap. Sorry to make you come all the way out here for nothing.”

Martin made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “No worries, man. You need help with anything?”

The other reaper kept eyeballing Marlena, obviously waiting for an introduction, but Adam didn't rise to the task. He was tired, sweaty, and mosquito-bitten, and at the moment he didn't feel like sharing.

“No,” Adam said. “It's probably better if we didn't have any witnesses. I'll give you the breakdown later.”

Martin took the hint, a lazy smile forming on his face. “Message received, loud and clear. You need anything, give me a call.” And with that, the reaper turned back toward the road and disappeared into the darkness.

“I take it this means you don't want me to kill him.” Marlena didn't sound happy with the idea, and honestly, he couldn't blame her. After what the bastard had done to her—twice—he fully understood her thirst for vengeance.

“He's not fated to die. Not yet, anyway.” Like it or not, Fate had other plans for Jeremiah Brentwood. For Marlena's sake, Adam hoped they involved something unpleasant.

In the distance, sirens wailed. One of the neighbors must have heard the shots and called the police. Adam tossed a glance over his shoulder and saw several sets of flashing red and blue lights approaching. Turning back to Marlena, he hooked one arm around her waist. “Unless you feel like talking to the police, we better get moving.”

“What about him?” She motioned to Jeremiah.

Adam shrugged. “He's not going anywhere in that condition. And as soon as we get to the truck, I'll call in an anonymous tip about his identity.”

M
arlena watched the passing scenery as the train sped toward its destination.

Fields of snow-covered grass stretched away from the tracks as Gothic spires pierced the overcast sky and small villages zipped past the windows. At some point fairly soon, the landscape would change to green pines and dark, dense foliage. She'd forgotten how beautiful the German countryside could be. And now she got to share it with Adam. She stole a glance in his direction, her heart jumping the way it always did whenever his eyes caught hers.

They'd waited seven months to take this trip, until Cassie was walking on her own again and her new home was completely built. The new house was a little bit smaller than the old one, but she'd spared no expense in furnishing each room, striking the perfect balance between comfort and luxury. Once finished, she'd placed so many wards on the property it was a wonder the postman could deliver the mail.

As for Jeremiah Brentwood, he was still awaiting trial for eleven counts of murder, kidnapping, and false imprisonment. Prosecutors were seeking the death penalty due to the gruesome nature of the crimes. In the wake of last month's competency hearing, the defense had indicated it planned to mount an insanity defense, claiming their client was schizophrenic and suffered from delusions. She'd have to testify when the trial finally got under way, and she relished the thought of facing Brentwood in a courtroom.

Adam reached across the armrest and took her hand, his thumb brushing over the gold band on her left ring finger. Engraved on the inside of the ring, in beautiful script writing, were the words “My One and Only Forever.” The ring he wore carried the same inscription, and he hadn't taken it off since the day they'd traded vows. “How much longer until we reach the station?”

“Ten, fifteen minutes tops.”

The train passed through a series of tunnels, and after they emerged from the last one, the station came into view. Bracing for the cold, she buttoned her coat while Adam shrugged into his leather jacket. The train stopped, and when the doors whooshed open, a blast of winter air stole her breath. They stepped onto the platform, and from there they walked a short distance to the small village Marlena hadn't seen in more than four centuries.

A number of the old stone buildings still stood, but by and large, the village had changed dramatically since the time she lived there. Which was fine by her. She'd dreaded the thought of seeing the square where she and Christopher had burned, and it relieved her to see an optometrist's office standing over the site. Even so, her stomach lurched at the barrage of unpleasant memories.

“Are you okay?” Adam asked, concern etched on his face.

“I'm fine,” she lied, hiding her discomfort.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. She'd suggested the trip so Adam could have a better reference for his disjointed memories. Plus, she thought it might bring her a sense of closure. She'd never forgive Samuel for the things he had done, but perhaps she could learn to set it aside. Neither of them had seen the bastard in months, which suited her just fine.

Looking up, she gave Adam's hand a light squeeze. “Does any of this look familiar?”

He nodded. “It's like the weirdest case of déjà vu.” He pointed to his left, where a row of weathered buildings led to a newly built courthouse. “Over there is where we were tried, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let's go this way.”

Hand in hand, they walked in the opposite direction along the narrow, stone-lined street. The threat of rain must have kept the tourists away, because only a small scattering of people milled about. They stopped at the market, which was filled with flowers, food, and assorted trinkets and souvenirs. Marlena bought a loaf of bread, a hunk of smoked cheese, two bottles of Apfelschorle, and a half dozen assorted pastries. The dialect spoken in the region had changed over the years, but she still managed to communicate with the woman in the market without any significant problems.

When they reached the courtyard, they claimed a bench by the fountain and she opened the bag with the pastries.

Adam eyed her over the rim of his sunglasses. “Dessert first?”

“You got a problem with that?”

“Not at all.” He hooked one finger into the top of the bag and peered inside. “Is that a Boston crème?”

“No, that's a Berliner. Kind of like a jelly doughnut. Want it?”

Adam pursed his lips as if she'd offered him strychnine. “Nah, I'll take the one with the streusel on top. What's it called?”

“Beats me.” She pulled it out of the bag and handed it to him. “I bought it because it looked good.”

While they ate, his eyes never stopped scanning the scenery. A strange expression crossed his face as he pointed toward the building at the far end of the street. “Was that the smithy?”

“Yes. Christopher worked there with his father. Back then it was only one story, and there was an extra room built onto the side.” Now the building housed a bar, serving locals and tourists alike.

“Where was your house?”

“About a quarter mile outside town. It's gone now.”

“How do you know?”

“Because the townspeople burned it to the ground after my father was arrested.”

“Oh.” Something flickered in his eyes and tightened his jaw. Anger? Maybe, but she couldn't say for sure. Finished with his pastry, he brushed his hands against his jeans. “Come on, let's get out of here.”

Confused, she peered up at him. “But you haven't seen the rest of the town.”

“That's okay. I've seen enough of my past. Now it's time to focus on our future.” He gripped her chin with one warm hand, his eyes darkening as he leaned toward her, pressing his lips against hers. He tasted like cinnamon and spices. “If we catch the next train, we'll have enough time to stop at Füssen before heading back to the hotel.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips and kissed the tip of each finger. In spite of the cold, heat rose in her blood, and she suddenly wondered if she could talk him into going straight to the hotel. She met his dark gaze, and the emotion in his eyes nearly filled her heart to bursting.

“I love you,” she said, never more sure of anything in her entire life.

“I love you too.” He flashed her a grin that said, “I've got plans for you,” and she couldn't wait to see what he had in mind. “Come on, kitten. Let's make some new memories together.”

Don't make the grave mistake of missing any of the books in Lori Sjoberg's series!

 

 

 

 

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“A highly enjoyable, intelligently written story.”—
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