In the Shadows (The Blaisdell Chronicles) (11 page)

“Stop.”

But he didn’t. His teeth nipped my lower lip, his hand clasping over my cheek.

“Alex, no!” I pulled my face back, but it was a mistake, for his eyes were blazing in sudden, growing anger.

“No?”

I got to my feet and stepped back. Panic took over and I suddenly realised he was my only way home. “
We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t feel that way.”

“But we must, I mean, I thought…”

His voice trailed off, looking away, before his head snapped up.

“You don’t remember?”

He came closer, drawing me backwards.

“Remember what?” My back suddenly hit the bark of a tree.
Soon he was hovering over me, his brow furrowed, his head shaking in disbelief.

“You honestly
can’t…I don’t believe this.”

I cowered when his fist punched above my head.

“Damn it!”

His dimples vanished, his body taut with rage. Turning away, he ran a hand through his hair, with such ferocity, like he was brushing away his frustration.

“I’m sorry, Alex, but I don’t...”

“
You’re
sorry
?” I could almost taste the venom on his tongue.

“Please, just take me home,” I whispered, desperate not to anger him again.

He stared at the ground, shaking his fists at his sides. Slowly, he released them, facing me with a forced smile. “Fine. But you
will
remember.”

My front door key had been poised, ready to push into the lock, when I heard someone behind me. Slowly, I turned and saw Nathan standing on the edge of the garden path. Dark clouds shifted, the moon’s gaze unable to hide the anguish over his features.

“You were with him. Again.”

He let the words hang there. I wouldn’t lie. “I was.”

Nathan’s tone was serious. “He’s not good enough for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Is this another one of your cryptic messages?”

He took a step forward, his hands opened. “Please, understand, when I tell you these things it’s for your own good. I really wish you’d listen to me.”

“Why?” I asked, nonchalantly. “Give me a reason.”

His forehead creased. He didn’t answer quickly and chose to avert his gaze.

“You were the one who attacked Alex first.”

His stare was icy and his voice became flat. He slowly paced forward, backing me into the shadows at the side of the house. “Why not? You already think you know me. My life. What I’m capable of.”

I shivered at the reference. “Do you want me to hate you?”

“It would make things simpler, wouldn’t it? Believing I’m the bad guy.”

My eyes slowly adjusted. I saw his breath when he exhaled, no longer able to make eye contact.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me. How you reacted when we touched.”

I noticed his despondence and instantly regretted my prodding. “You don’t make it easy for me.”

He offered no response.

“You shut yourself away from me, when all I want is to find out more about you.”

“
Is that right? So tell me, Lucy. What is it you wish to know?”

I inclined my head. “How can you afford to live here when you don’t work? Why you sometimes speak as if you’re from another time.” His lips parted, but his eyes were wistful. It was in that brief moment I saw a glimpse of the kind Jonathan I once knew. He was still there, deep inside.

“I know why though, don’t I?” My hands hovered over his chest, rising quickly under his black shirt. “Why won’t you let me touch you?”

Did he know I’d been able to see his world, or was there another reason?

“It’s...complicated,” he spoke softly.

It couldn’t be him
, could it?
I
ha
d
to know. I reached for him, but he wouldn’t look at me. Bravely, I took his hand, and noticed his flinch, eyeing me cautiously. This time, there were no images from the war, and from this simplest of touches, warmth ran through my blood. I placed his hand over my cheek, and felt that spark of camaraderie. I closed my eyes and saw myself in the past, sat on my bed beside Jonathan. His hand smoothed over my face. Feeling our energies rise, we edged closer, until our foreheads met.

“
Make me yours, Jonathan
,” I breathed.

The warmth suddenly vanished, and I opened my eyes to see him jerk away, as if I represented some extreme danger.

“What did you call me?” he asked, hoarsely.

“Jonathan.”

He flinched at the name. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t do this.”

Left alone in the darkness, a cold current touched my skin.

“No! Please stop, I beg of you!”

I shut my eyes, hoping he will disappear, but all I can hear is the ripping of my gown and his lustful groans as he rains frantic kisses over me. The weight of his body is making it difficult to breathe. This morning, my father encouraged me to show the Earl of Sulis his gardens so we would become better acquainted, but he has mistaken my smiles.

“My father will be displeased—”

“Your greedy father just wants my coin. It will not matter to him if I have my bride early.”

“I’ll never marry you!”

“You must if I have you now!”

My deafening screams must be heard. What if my father is turning a blind eye? Is he really willing to let someone do this to me, just to pay off his debts? I wriggle and protest, to no avail. Before my gown is ready to expose more of me than I desire, a male voice halts the Earl’s actions.

“Leave the lady alone, sir.”

I open my eyes to see the back of the Earl’s head facing the intruder.

“You!” he says through gritted teeth. “What are you doing here?”

He ignores his question. “I won’t ask you again, sir. You will insult her honour if you persist. Leave now.”

Peering past the Earl, my jaw drops in recognition of the man standing before us, sword in hand.

“I wouldn’t be going anywhere, sweeting,” the Earl sneers, turning and kissing my lips so ferociously, I want to be sick. He lifts himself from me, as though he is dismounting a horse, turning to face his opponent.

“You should leave whilst you still have the chance.”

“I will not. I’m calling you out. Will tomorrow at dawn suffice?”

The Earl of Sulis’ laughs, tossing his head back. “
Look at you! You’re just a boy. You cannot be serious.”

“I assure you, sir, that I am.”

“Are you willing to die to save her?”

Jonathan swallows, his Adam’s apple rising up and down in his throat. “If I must die to stop you, so be it.”

“Very well, then. I will teach you a lesson for interfering. It is a pity that I have a prior engagement in the morn, so I must accept your challenge now.”

I gasp, as I can’t mistake the Earl’s un-gloved hand reach for his sheathed sword. Blood will be spilt in my honour, although I don’t know if Jonathan is up to the challenge. The sun bounces the shimmer from the sword into my eyes, briefly blinding me. And then, the shimmer shifts further away, as I hear the sound of swords clashing together, amongst some very foul curses. The Earl of Sulis continues to heckle him, but he’s grown too arrogant. I gasp when the sword is knocked from the Earl’s hand, and when Jonathan briefly hesitates, gently smiling, almost as if he cannot believe he manages such a thing, the Earl swiftly punches him in the jaw, causing him to fall back and his lip to bleed. Fury washes over me. Spying a fallen branch near my feet, I don’t hesitate in rushing to pick it up and although it is too heavy for me, I find enough strength to swing it with all my might. The Earl stumbles, turning to meet my gaze and cradles the back of his head. When he sees fresh blood on his fingertips, he curses us both.

“This isn’t the end,” he says, before lifting his sword, walking away.

Rushing to Jonathan’s side, I lift his sulking face, eyeing the cut on his lip, despite his mumbled protest he is fine. Ignoring his words, I remove one of my white satin gloves and give him a stern look. Reluctantly, he sighs, allowing me to press the glove against his lip. Even with a split lip and his manly sulk, I can’t help but want those lips on my own.

“Thank you, my lady,” he says after the bleeding stops. I take the glove away. He bows.

“Thank you, sir, for if it was not for your arrival, he would have finished what he had started.”

“He should have more manners for you, my lady.”

I notice his cheeks flush red and he looks away, mumbling about my gown, and then I suddenly remember it has been ripped. Luckily, my modesty is still covered, although I’ve been revealing more than a lady should. Cursing my lack of a robe, I draw my breath when Jonathan swiftly removes his faded cornflower blue overcoat and wraps it around me.

Clouds rumble overhead, and it starts to rain. Taking my hand, we run to the garden arbour for shelter. Luckily, we make it just in time before getting soaked. I fiddle with my hair, now falling out of its chignon. Jonathan stands behind me, his fingers covering mine, gently taking the pins from me.

“Allow me,” he says in a low voice.

My skin prickles over the trail left by his fingers on my neck. He stops, and we are silent, only hearing the rain pattering down and the heart thudding in my chest. I shake my head and look up at him over my shoulder. My body trembles with awareness.

“My lady, are you cold?”

I shake my head. As my eyes are misting, I lean into his chest, sobbing gently. He caresses my hair, reassuring me everything will be all right. But it will not be all right. I know my heart will die if I become the Earl’s wife.

“I cannot do as my father asks,” I manage through my tears. “That man’s hands. If I marry him—”

I squeeze my arms around him more tightly, trying to remove the ghastly images of our impending wedding night. His response is a squeeze of my body.

“You have to take me away from here. Please say you will.”

Our eyes meet and another feeling hums through my veins. Love. His bottom lip quivers, as he lowers his head.

“I will, my lady.”

We stay there listening to the storm in content silence, safe in each other’s arms, dreaming of our happy future together.

I didn’t understand why I hadn’t been able to see the Earl of Sulis’ face. If I’d started dreaming just a few minutes earlier, I might have caught a glimpse. The only thing I could remember was his height, and his hair was dark, although I was now starting to question my memory. Could it have been blonde? The dream had left me confused. I was so content with Jonathan; even planning a new life together, and there was no sign of him being a monster. What had happened to make him change?

“My life is over!”

Jen downed the hot chocolate, shoving the empty cup along the metal counter towards me. She’d not been her usual self since I’d arrived at work, but this was the first time she’d spoken of it.

“Trouble with your boyfriend?” I asked, pouring her another hot chocolate.

“Extra marshmallows this time,” Jen pointed at the jar beside the till.

I did as she asked. I began to serve another customer, silently urging the girl to hurry up and choose so I could speak to Jen. After much debating with herself, she finally chose a bottle of mineral water and left the coffee house.

Jen was bent over the counter, hands clutching her temples, groaning audibly.

After a few moments, she rose, staring at the cake counter without looking. “I had been seeing somebody else since I broke up with Daniel. Well
,
kind
of. We never said we were dating exactly. But I
really
fell for him. I’d never felt that way before. This feeling I had inside was new, yet exciting. He was everything you’d want in a boyfriend. Handsome, funny, great bod, had the cash...”

“A badass?”

She giggled. “I thought so.”

A silence fell between us, and slowly, the colour drained from her face.

“Then he started to change. I accused him of cheating, but he laughed and said we weren’t dating. I got confused. I thought he might want to, but—”

Her silence spoke louder than her finishing her sentence. Jen quickly sipped her hot chocolate and resumed her moaning, as if she was in a lot of pain.

During the lunch hour rush, Jen helped clean and tidy the tables after customers were leaving, but I saw her typing text messages and often checking for a reply. When none came, she wondered if her phone was broken, so asked me to send her a text message, and when she quickly received it, her lids lowered, staring at the mobile phone in her hand. She genuinely looked crestfallen, slumping into a chair by the window and gazed outside. I had no idea what to say or do to cheer her up.

As I was about to make a feeble suggestion, the coffee shop door opened. A short man carrying another bouquet of carnations in red and white came in, addressing us.

Jen could hardly contain her excitement; her hands stretched out like a child eager for birthday presents. The courier checked the note attached to the packaging.

“Are you Lucy?”

Jen’s face fell and she watched intently as I took the flowers and read the flowing handwriting.

Forgive me.

“Who are they from?” Jen finally asked, when the courier left.

“It doesn’t say.”

Was Alex sorry after what happened during the picnic? But perhaps flowers weren’t his style. After all, he’d been adamant he hadn’t sent the first bouquet.

When Jen realised her probing wasn’t going to get her the answers she was looking for, she sighed dolefully and said, “Let me give you some
advice, Lucy. Never give all of yourself to a guy. Always keep something back. Don’t let emotions cloud your view into believing he might want more. It’s the only way to avoid heartache.”

I wanted to help her, to make her happy again, but my lack of experience with the male species didn’t make me a good agony aunt. Besides, I had my own problems, and although I could have used a friendly ear myself, now wasn’t the time. I tried to appear sympathetic, but she pulled me in for a hug. The contact startled me, but soon I realised I didn’t need to say anything. Just being there for her helped.

We resumed working, and every so often, we stopped to chat about nothing in particular. About an hour before closing, Jen confided, “I might stop by Ellen’s and see if she can help,” before disappearing into the kitchen.

I almost dropped the cappuccino I had just prepared. There was something unsettling about Jen’s friend. Everything about her, from her knowledge about my past, the creepy pictures in her books and the suggestion I gave her my blood, had me feeling sick to the stomach. Now Jen wanted to see her again. Had Jen allowed
Ellen to take blood from her? I couldn’t let that happen.

Jen came back, pushing her mobile phone back into her pocket. “She’s not answering her phone. She must be out.”

“Do you want to come over to my house instead?” I asked in a rush. “Perhaps we could watch a DVD or something.”

“Girl’s night in, huh?” said Jen, beginning to smile. “That sounds great, but can we do it another night? I’m pretty tired.”

Tired? That didn’t sound like Jen.

Jen was so eager to leave work, that she had her coat on ready half an hour before closing time. She was planning to go home for a shower and then try phoning Ellen again. It was quiet anyway, so I said I didn’t mind locking up. Pressing the shop keys into my hand for me to lock up, Jen thanked me and ran out of the coffee house. I stared after her and sighed. At least there would be no bloodletting during a phone call. It didn’t matter that Jen thought she was a miracle, nor that Ellen kept trying to assure me she could help. There was still something about her that niggled in my veins, like when I touched Alex. I found it difficult to trust someone with pentagrams and books on sacrifices. She might have meant well, and I did have some sympathy for her when she said she’d been called a witch, but perhaps that wasn’t very far from the truth.

Since there were no customers, I sneaked into the ladies to look in the mirror, hoping to bring back what I’d already glimpsed, but nothing had happened. If the answer was inside, why wasn’t I aware of it? What did I not want to face?

With Jen long gone and Mr Whitmore not in today, the coffee house was eerily silent. I thought it would have been fun being alone at work, like I could pretend I was the boss. But when I locked up to go home, I didn’t have any of those feelings inside, and I was glad to be leaving.

Outside, only a few amber lamps offered dismal light, but as I proceeded, suddenly they gave out. The next light was still flickering on, but it was much further along.

The sound of footsteps inching closer made me suck in my breath, and out of the dark shadows, a figure slowly emerged. The strong tobacco and alcohol scent I’d long banished from my memory returned to haunt my senses.

“Roger.”