Lost in Shadow (A Shadow Walkers Ghost Novel) (26 page)

BOOK: Lost in Shadow (A Shadow Walkers Ghost Novel)
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“I wouldn’t turn away yet milady, might want to see who the second half of that lover’s couple is.” Turning to the voice, she saw a man dressed in silk as if he’d stepped out of a costume ball. Her stomach clenched, he was slightly transparent and floating a few feet off the ground. Remembering what Colin told her, she didn’t think he was a Day Walker or Shadow Walker since he didn’t have any substance.

Curiosity overruled fear. “Who are you?”

“I was the lady’s servant and continue to watch over all the ladies of the castle as they come and go. Frederick, at your service ma’am.” He bowed. “Look out the window, milady.”

Frowning, Emily looked out, seeing the man from the cottage come closer. Watching him approach, she gasped, one hand going to her heart, the other splayed on the frigid stone wall to steady her. Her heartbeat filled the room, so loud it drowned out what the ghost was saying. It was Colin. There had to be an explanation. She’d march downstairs, find him and ask him to clear it up. Starting to leave, the man’s next words stopped her in her tracks, sending icy fingers crawling up her arms.

“Ah yes, Baron Campbell, quite the ladies’ man. Leaving one of the many mistresses he keeps on the grounds. There are others…in Edinburgh, also in France and England. He does admire the ladies.”

“What are you talking about? Colin isn’t involved with anyone; told me he wasn’t.” She was sick to her stomach, this couldn’t be true, he wouldn’t lie to her.

“You watched them embrace, caught him coming out of the cottage after having his way with her. Has he promised you to be his wife? Asked you to live with him as mistress of Ravensmore?” Seeing the hurt on Emily’s face, the ghost pressed on. “He won’t, still loves Abigail. Yes, the mistress betrayed him, but he’s never gotten over her, never will. He slakes his lust with others but will never give any of you his heart. I’m sorry, milady. Best you know now before you fall too hard for the charmer.”

The ghostly figure threw in one last parting shot. “Did he tell you some fantastical story about a curse? He tells all of you the same story and you fall for it, thinking you’ll be the one to save him. There is no curse. He uses it to bed all of you. I couldn’t bear to see another young woman hurt by him. Leave, go back home, forget this place, and forget him. There’s nothing for you here…nothing except betrayal and heartbreak.”

The figure faded away without a sound. Emily sunk into the window seat, dust floating up from the pillows. Face white, trembling, she tried to stop the tears from falling to no avail. She cried, huge, noisy sobs wracking her body as she berated herself for trusting again, for believing in love. Was she that desperate for someone, she believed anything? Hours passed as she cried until there was nothing left. Wiping her eyes, she felt empty, hollow.

He’d lied. In her book not being honest was a deal breaker. Furious, she decided she was taking control of her own life. Let him play his little games, she’d had enough. She wasn’t staying here one more second, she was going home. Dropping her half eaten banana, she fled, heading for the bedroom. Turning around, taking in the room, her eyes stopped on her suitcase. The rest of her things had been delivered, it figured. She couldn’t bear to haul her bags down the stairs like some pathetic, rejected lover. Shaking her head, she decided to leave it all. Checking to make sure she had her passport and emergency cash she’d had stashed in her suitcase, she grabbed her coat, pausing by the bed. It was rumpled from their lovemaking the night before. Her stomach rolled. Brusquely walking out, she pulled the door shut.

Moving quickly down the hallway, she heard voices. Not wanting anyone to see her leave, to avoid the knowing looks, the pity on their faces, she headed for the passageway Colin had shown her. Darting in to the ladies solar, quietly closing the door, she moved to the fireplace, looking for the lever. Pressing it, she headed into the passageway that would take her outside. At least it was well-lit; thank goodness for electricity. Quickly making her way through, she came to the door. Cracking it open, she peered out. She could see the old garrison, now a garage across the courtyard; no one seemed to be outside. Pushing hard against the door to dislodge the snow, she put all of her weight into it, hearing the door groan and creak as it opened enough for her to squeeze through.

Scurrying to the garage, she looked over the choices—not a sports car, too impractical if there were still icy spots on the roads. Spotting an old Land Rover, slightly dented, it looked like a car for the staff to run errands or to use for driving around the grounds. No one would pay any attention to it on the road. Looking at the cupboard holding the keys, she tried to find the right one, her hands shaking with anger over Colin’s duplicity.

Suddenly a large hand covered her mouth, muffling her scream, the other pinning her arms to her sides, pushing her against the wall, preventing her from kicking out.

“Well, well milady, we meet again.” She had heard the voice before. “Why couldn’t you mind your own business? I tried to scare you off, had your hotel room tossed, your dear friend pushed down the steps, and still you keep nosing around. You should have left with her, staying has caused me a great deal of difficulty.”

After gagging her and securing her hands and feet, he turned Emily to face him. “Captain Rawlins Huntington at your service, milady. You can call me Rawlins.”

This was so not good. He was a Day Walker. If Colin was to be believed, he would kill her, draining her dry. It sounded like a terrible way to die. But if he was going to kill her why tie her up? Trying to talk, thrashing, Rawlins placed a cloth over her face. Before she passed out she had the fleeting thought it was chloroform like on TV shows; they described it as cloyingly sweet. She succumbed to the gray nothingness.

Waking up, Emily’s head pounded, her vision a bit blurry as she tried to figure out where she was—Rawlins had her. She had no idea how long she’d been unconscious. Startled, she sat up quickly, retching from the drug in her system. Taking in her surroundings, she was in a stone room, sitting on a bed piled with blankets. There weren’t any windows, the lanterns on the outside wall cast weak light into the cell. The door was heavy wood, with iron bars, a small window through which she could see the lanterns. It was so cold. Reaching for a blanket, she wrapped a couple around her for warmth. Finishing her appraisal of the room, she noted a pitcher of water next to the bed and a chamber pot in the corner.

Oh hell no, I’m in a freaking dungeon. It looks different from Edinburgh Castle, maybe Ravensmore has a dungeon?
She felt groggy. Head full of cotton. Taking a drink of water to ease her dry, scratchy throat, she called out, “Anybody there? Hello?” Surely Colin would be looking for her, wouldn’t he? Pacing around, she tried the door to no avail. She examined every corner and crevice of the room, trying to find a way out, or anything to help her escape. Frustrated, she sat back down on the bed. Great, now she had to pee—no way was she going in a chamber pot, she wanted a real bathroom or at least something with a door.

Standing up, she pounded on the door, yelling, “Hey, need some assistance here. Can anyone hear me?”

Rawlins appeared in front of her out of thin air. “No need to shout.”

“Where am I? Where’s Colin?”

“Welcome to picturesque Castle Gloom. Colin is going about his business not missing your lovely presence. I’m thinking he has better things to do than worry over you.”

She wanted to think Colin would rush to her rescue; he cared for her…she remembered the mean ghost telling her all kinds of awful things about Colin. If they were true maybe he wouldn’t come for her, would think she’d left on her own, still angry with him. No. There was no way Colin would leave her in the hands of a Day Walker. Rawlins was trying to get inside her head. She wouldn’t take the bait. “Wait a minute, I saw the castle, it’s nothing more than a ruin.”

“The main castle is in ruins. However the dungeons survived, not many know it, and I find them useful from time to time.

“You can’t keep me here.”

“There’s where you are wrong. I can keep you here or wherever I please, as long as I please. Who’s going to stop me, your precious Colin? I think not.” He leaned insolently against the door, watching her like a hawk watches a mouse.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” The despicable man pointed to the wretched bowl. “Use the chamber pot. Be grateful you have that much.”

“Why am I here?” She finished, coughing from the effects of the drug.

“Why—because I felt like it. Annoy me further and I’ll take twenty years of your life from you in less than a minute,” he finished, turning to leave.

“Wait, how long have I been here?” Her voice trembled, afraid to ask her real question—what was he going to do with her, she didn’t want to die and she certainly didn’t want to grow old before her time.

“It’s late afternoon. Get comfortable, you’re not going anywhere. Oh, scream all you like, no one will hear you.” With that Rawlins vanished, leaving Emily alone with her thoughts.

A while later, not knowing how much time had passed, only that her stomach was growling ferociously, she heard someone. It couldn’t be Rawlins since he simply appeared at will. A man rapped on the door, telling her to stand back against the far wall. She did, looking for a way to get past the man entering the room. He had a tray of food with a teapot. She eased to the left, ready to run for it when another man blocked the doorway pointing a gun at her.

“Now, now, ducky, don’t even think about it. We don’t want to harm you, but we will shoot you if you try to run. Where will you go? It’s snowing again, no one will find you, and you’d freeze to death before you made it back to Ravensmore. Eat or we won’t bring you anything else. Don’t really care if you’re hungry or not.”

Emily was scared. These men looked like some kind of prison rejects, all mean faces and weasel eyes. She had to hope Colin would look for her, he was sworn to protect humanity…surely that meant he’d come after her, see her things left behind, no car missing.

Dejected, she sank back on the bed. She decided to eat; wanting to keep her strength up. There had to be a way to escape. The food was bland but palatable, the tea hot, the water cold. She ate everything, drank all the tea, saved the water for later. Looking to make sure no one was watching, embarrassed to the core, cheeks flaming, she used the chamber pot, wrinkling her nose and disgusted to not have any toilet paper. She would have never survived in the past; she liked her little luxuries—toilet paper, toothpaste, showers, heat, electricity, running water. Sighing, shoulders slumping, she rinsed her mouth out with water and climbed into the tiny bed, pulling the covers tight around her, trying to keep warm. Lying there, the tears silently ran down her face.
Please Colin, come for me. Terya? If you can hear me, please help me, tell Colin where to find me, I need him.
She drifted into a restless sleep.

“Where the devil is she?” Colin bellowed. When Emily didn’t show up for lunch he’d thought she was punishing him, still angry. Then when she wasn’t in her room, he checked every outbuilding, asked everyone, no one had seen her.

He’d searched their room; all her things were there except her passport. No vehicles were missing, no taxis had shown up, the bloody woman wouldn’t have tried to leave on foot in the snow, would she?

Worthington had seen her heading to the unused west wing mid-morning. Colin took the steps three at a time, telling himself she’d gotten distracted and didn’t notice she’d missed lunch, and after he yelled at her for worrying him, he’d kiss her senseless, tell her he was an idiot, he wanted her to stay.

Checking every bloody room, he came to the last room—Abigail’s room. Tentatively he pushed the door open. Walking in, he looked around curiously; he’d never been in here. She’d moved in when she married Hamish. The room smelled of Abigail, it was overpowering, not the fresh scent of sunshine and peaches like Emily.

There were marks in the dust on the table, someone had moved things. Looking closely, he saw footprints in the dust which had to be hers. It looked like she’d sat in the window seat from the disarray of the pillows. A half-eaten banana behind a pillow told him she’d indeed been in the room. She couldn’t have disappeared…all the vehicles were there…where was she? Frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair, swearing, alarm bells ringing in his head, warning him she was in danger.

Slamming the heavy wooden door to the room closed, he thundered down the hallway pausing as he felt someone touch his sleeve. Stopping, he turned. There in the corridor was one of the castles infamous ghosts, Billy. Before Colin’s time Billy had appeared whenever there was danger. It was said he had worked as a servant, bringing firewood to the rooms before he fell down the stairs one night and broke his neck. The lord of the castle had adored him and had a small statue commissioned and placed in the kitchen garden as a memorial. Billy was buried in the family graveyard.

He was a low-level ghost; transparent and couldn’t communicate other than nodding or gesturing. The hackles on Colin’s neck rose; if Billy had shown up, he or someone he cared about was in imminent danger—Emily.

“Billy, my lad, have you seen Emily? The American who came to Ravensmore with me?” Billy nodded, gesturing frantically. “Wait a moment, I’m trying to understand.”

The little ghost floated towards the stairs, motioning Colin to follow him. He led Colin to the garage, pointing wildly. He didn’t see anything—taking a deep breath, he reached out with all his senses. The seconds ticked by—he smelled Emily and something else—he knew the scent from somewhere but couldn’t quite place it. He stiffened, letting a string of curses flow as he recognized the other scent…Day Walker…one who had recently fed.

Only one Day Walker would be so brazen to come into Colin’s territory, take something of his…it had to be Rawlins. He was going to rip Rawlins open and feed his entrails to the ravens while he watched. Colin had put her in so much danger and now she was alone, thinking he’d deserted her, failed to protect her.

“Billy, do you know where he took her?” With slumped shoulders, Billy shook his head no and from the gesturing, Colin guessed he’d dematerialized with Emily, which was hard unless you’d fed heavily and were juiced up. Now where would he take her? It had to be a trap, where would he go?

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