Shivers Box Set: Darkening Around Me\Legacy of Darkness\The Devil's Eye\Black Rose (38 page)

It was dark by the time Brynn pulled into the courtyard and got out of the car. Cloud cover blotted out the moon and stars. The kitchen windows were dark. Only a small pool of light from the fixture over the coach house door alleviated the black.

Something crunched the gravel. Brynn stiffened. She scanned the area, but couldn’t make out anything in the darkness. She was letting Reece’s paranoia about ghostly warnings spook her. Still, she hurried across the drive to the back door.

Fast footfalls pounding the gravel behind her rose up from the black. She jerked around in time to catch sight of something long and silver glinting in the low light and arching straight for her.

A knife!

Fear burst inside Brynn like a firework and she stumbled back from the blade, but not fast enough. The knife caught in her jacket’s open flap, jerking her forward and toward the shadowy form. She tried to pull back, but her heeled boots lost purchase on the uneven gravel and she fell sideways, pulling her attacker down with her.

She landed hard on her side, something jabbing her ribs, and her assailant fell on top of her, thrusting the breath from her lungs.

Gasping, she tried to scream, but couldn’t draw enough air. Her jacket tightened against her shoulder, and she risked a glance at her attacker struggling with something caught in her coat. The knife was still wrapped in her jacket and she was half-laying on it.

Terror flooded her system, washing away reason, leaving behind only the primal instinct for survival. She twisted away from her attacker, clawing at the rough stone to pull herself from under the weight pinning her down. Pointed gravel stabbed her hip, her stomach, bit into her palms.

The dry scrape of rending fabric filled her ears. Cold washed over her. The knife was free.

Brynn let her arms go lax, shrugged out of her coat. The sudden shift in momentum tipped her attacker sideways. The pressure on Brynn’s back eased. She scrambled from under the weight and bolted for her car—it was closer than the house.

She grabbed the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge. Locked. “Fuck!”

She whirled around. Her attacker—little more than a shadow in the darkness—was on his feet, disentangling the knife from what was left of her coat. She scanned the driveway for her purse, spotted it a few feet from the shredded remains of her coat.

Heart thundering in her ears, she darted forward, snatched up her bag and dumped the contents onto the driveway. Her keys glinted in the low light. She grabbed them and hit the remote lock as she rushed back to the car. Quick footsteps crunched behind her.

In a nearly single, fluid motion, she yanked open the door, slid inside and slammed it closed behind her, then hit the locks.

Two simultaneous clunks filled the car and Brynn let out the breath she’d been holding, sagging in her seat. Outside, the dark form stood in front of her car, knife at his side. For a moment, neither moved as if they were both unsure what to do next.

Brynn acted first. She jammed her key into the ignition, turned on the car, headlights igniting the darkness. Her attacker dodged the light—a swirl of black and gray before disappearing entirely.

Where had he gone? She searched the black for any sign of movement, the telltale glint of a blade. Maybe he was waiting for another chance to come at her. She leaned on the horn. Hopefully, the noise would chase him away, or at least bring help from the house.

A loud rap at her window made her jump. She looked up at Reece peering through the glass. Relief washed through her only to vanish almost instantly, replaced with black fear. He was out there with a killer. She opened the door and jumped out.

“There’s someone with a knife.” Her voice sounded too high, her words too fast even to her own ears. She tried to calm her rapid breathing, but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Who had a knife?”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t see. It was too dark.”

She shivered and Reece wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her against his solid chest.

“Eleri?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” Eleri, Ruth, or the shadow man from her room. She didn’t have a clue.

* * *

“You were very lucky, you know.”

Reece leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Harding posture beside Brynn. She looked small and shaken sitting on one of the chairs at the kitchen table. The detective badgering her with the same questions over and over zinged through Reece like tinfoil on a filling.

“She certainly is,” Warlow agreed, setting a cup of tea in front of her and sitting in the chair opposite.

Shoulders hunched, she wrapped her hands around the mug, but didn’t drink. Maybe trying to warm herself through her palms.

He wanted to go to her, wrap his arms around her. He couldn’t, of course. Not with Warlow, Harding and Eleri in the room. Instead, he and Brynn had to go on playing their roles, careful not to give away what they’d become to each other. What exactly that was, he didn’t know, but his chest squeezed every time he thought of how badly things could have turned out.

She’ll die and there’s nothing you can do to stop it
.

Brynn hadn’t died. She sat less than six feet away from him, fragile and haunted. The ghost had been wrong—unless there was something more to come. His mouth turned dry at the thought.

“Now, is this everyone who was home tonight?” Harding’s gaze locked on Eleri hovering silently in the doorway between the kitchen and the back stairs like a ghost. She didn’t meet the detective’s stare, her attention fixed on the checked floor. “Apart from Arthur, of course. Where’s that nurse?”

“She doesn’t work Tuesdays,” Warlow explained. “I believe she visits her son on her days off.”

Which explained the hissing baby monitor, Arthur’s rattling breaths tinny through the weak speaker, on the table beside him.

At the mention of Ruth, Brynn’s gaze jerked up, bounced between Warlow and Eleri. “I have to talk to you both about something.” Her voice scraped like she hadn’t used it in years.

“We’re just about finished here,” Harding said, flipping open his notebook. “Let’s go over your story one more time.”

“She’s exhausted,” Reece ground out. His jaw ached from gritting his teeth.

The detective shot Reece a hard glare before turning back to Brynn. “You said you didn’t see who attacked you, correct?”

Brynn nodded. “It was too dark and it happened so fast.”

“A man or woman?” he asked, brows lifting, creasing his forehead.

“I…I don’t know.”

“This person didn’t speak, didn’t make a noise?”

Brynn shook her head, frown marring her forehead. “I don’t think so.”

“So you can’t say who it was…or wasn’t, for that matter?”

“No.”

“I wonder if anyone recognizes this.” Harding fished a small, clear bag from his pocket and tossed it onto the kitchen table. Inside was a thin silver cross on a chain. “We found it outside, not far from Brynn’s jacket.”

“That’s yours, isn’t it Eleri?” Hugh swiveled his head to look at her. Eleri’s eyes were wide and panicked, like a trapped animal ready to bolt. Hugh turned back to the detective. “It was Enid’s.”

“I didn’t…” Eleri coughed. “It’s been missing for days.”

“She lives here,” Hugh reminded him. “If she lost it, it’s not surprising you found it in the drive.”

Chuckling, Harding picked up the bag and slipped it into his pocket again. “You’ve no idea how not surprised I am to find something of Eleri’s.” He turned to the woman in question. “You need to come with me now.”

“Wait,” Brynn stood. “Eleri’s too small. It wasn’t her.”

Harding shook his head. “You just told me the attack happened too quickly, that it was too dark for you to provide any details about your assailant. Come along, Eleri.”

“Are you arresting me?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

“Do I need to?”

“What about Ruth?” Brynn said, quickly coming around the table and putting herself between Eleri and the detective.

Reece frowned. Why was she fighting so hard to protect her sister? He didn’t like Harding, but the detective was right. Eleri had finally gone after Brynn just like everyone knew she would.

“Ruth is at her son’s,” Warlow said.

“Do you know that for sure? I was just at the seniors’ home where she worked before coming here. The staff suspected her of killing residents.”

“It wasn’t Ruth’s necklace I found on the drive. Time to go, Eleri”

“I didn’t do it,” Eleri said, shaking her head, eyes glassy. “I swear to God, it wasn’t me.”

Harding gripped Eleri’s elbow and Brynn watched helplessly as the detective led her sister out of the kitchen. Frustration simmered beneath her skin. She needed to stop this, to make them listen. Instead, people moved around her as if she’d suddenly turned invisible, as if they couldn’t hear a word she said.

Brynn turned to Hugh. “You have to stop this. Make him let her go. The detective needs to find Ruth.”

“Wait here.” Hugh followed the detective from the kitchen.

“Hey.” A touch brushed her arm. She started and turned to Reece, his concerned gaze locked on her face. “Are you all right?”

“It was Ruth, not Eleri.”

“Brynn—”

“I know what you’re going to say,” she told him. The faint condescension in his voice irritated her. “But she’s killed before.”

Brynn told him everything Judith had said. Reece’s frown deepened. “No one said anything?”

“Just a few of the staff suspected, and there was no proof. But if it’s true…”

Warlow strode into the room and they sprang apart like guilty teenagers. His cold eyes locked on Brynn. “I believe your time here is just about done, wouldn’t you agree?”

Was he blaming her for all this? “What about Eleri?”

“I’ll try to get in touch with Mr. James’s solicitor, but I doubt I’ll reach him before morning. Once matters are resolved with your sister—one way or the other—I want you out.”

She swallowed hard. “Once I know what’s happening with Eleri, I’ll have no reason to stay.”

He straightened, smoothed invisible lint from his pants. “I’m glad we understand each other.” He turned to Reece. “Be sure to lock up before you leave.”

Reece nodded, but didn’t reply, merely glared at the man’s back until he was gone.

“Bloody tosser,” he muttered, once they were alone. He turned to Brynn. “Go on, then. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

She nodded and hauled herself from the chair. Once in her room, she pulled her fitted top over her head and stood in front of the mirror over her dresser. She lifted her arm and turned sideways. A collage of purple bruises from catching the railing to avoid tumbling down the stairs last night marred the skin over her ribs. Below them thin red welts from the knife crisscrossed her flesh.

Everything could have turned out so much worse. If the knife hadn’t caught in her coat. If she’d landed on the sharp edge instead of the blunt. If she hadn’t found her car keys as quickly as she did.

It was pure fluke that she was still alive. If one thing had gone differently… She shivered.

The door clicked open and Brynn turned as Reece slipped inside.

“Is that from tonight?” He pointed to the bruises on her side.

“These are.” She gestured to the red marks. “The rest are from nearly falling down the stairs.”

He nodded, expression inscrutable. “You should get some rest.”

She shook her head. “I’m not tired anymore.”

Her exhaustion had dissipated, and dull energy thrummed low inside her.

She was alive. She wanted to feel alive. She wanted to touch him, taste him, to lose herself in him.

She unfastened the button on her pants, let the soft fabric slide down her legs and pool at her feet.

His throat bobbed. His gazed raked over her from foot to head and back down again.

“Brynn,” his voice rasped, “you’ve had a hell of a night.”

He wouldn’t turn her down, would he? He couldn’t, not tonight.

“Please, Reece,” she whispered. “I need this. I need you.”

His eyes flared, and within seconds she was in his arms, sinking into the hungry mindlessness she craved.

This was wrong, some distant voice whispered in the back of Reece’s brain. Someone had tried to kill Brynn hours ago. Her sister had been arrested. He should be comforting her, not running his hands over her nearly-naked body, tasting her sweet mouth. But the pale swell of breasts against the dark blue lace of her bra, the soft pleading in her voice…

He wasn’t a fucking saint.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pulled herself against him, crushing her breasts to his chest. He trailed his fingers down her back, over the gentle curve of her backside, her skin like silk. She shivered beneath his touch, angling her head and opening her mouth to give his tongue better access.

God, he couldn’t get enough of her. Mindless need pounded at the base of his skull. His cock strained against his jeans. He tugged down the cups of her bra, baring her breasts, filling his hands with their fullness, grazing her pebbled nipples with his thumbs.

Her hands tugged frantically at his shirt, his jeans as if she were as desperate to feel him against her as he was. He tore his mouth away from hers long enough to help her yank his shirt over his head and shove down his jeans and underwear. Then he had her against him again, touching her, exploring every inch of exposed skin.

They stumbled onto her bed, a tangled pile of naked limbs. When he shifted to cover her body with his, she pressed her hand to his chest and pushed him onto his back, swung her leg over and straddled him.

Need spiked inside him. He gripped her hips, fingers sinking into her firm backside, and thrust up, grinding himself against the silky swatch of material covering her opening. She groaned, arched her back. Her breasts swung tantalizingly before his mouth. He lifted his head and sucked one hardened tip between his lips.

She gasped, fingers tangling in his hair, hips undulating against his aching cock; the sweet friction drove him half out of his head.

“Shit,” he hissed, releasing her nipple and dropping his head back onto the pillow. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

She dipped her head, brushed her mouth to his. “Some.”

Her lips trailed over his jaw, down his throat, while her fingers stroked his chest, his stomach, leaving him needy, hungry. Her teeth nipped his collarbone, mouth traveling the same path her hand had taken. She swept her tongue around his nipple before she caught it between her teeth. He sucked in a sharp breath.

“You’re going to kill me at this rate,” he gritted out.

She lifted her dark gaze to his, her hand slipping lower. He tensed, every muscle in his body straining. She wrapped her fingers around his cock and sensation pulsed up his shaft. He closed his eyes. A groan tore from his throat. Then she sucked him into her mouth.

“Fuuuck.” His eyes nearly rolled back in his head. Holy God, she really
was
going to kill him.

He tunneled his fingers through her hair, the strands soft and cool against his skin. His hips rose and fell in time with her clever mouth. Every sense he had was alive and filled with her.

Her sweet scent.

Her soft skin whispering over his.

Her tongue smoothing the underside of his cock.

It was a wonder he didn’t empty himself into her mouth right then. Instead, he held on, prolonging the exquisite torture.

His balls drew tight. He was so close.

“I have to get inside you.” His voice sounded weak, pleading.

She lifted her head and grinned, clearly delighted with herself. Were he not on the brink of exploding, he’d wipe that smug smile off her sweet mouth.

Next time.

“I need the condom from my jeans.” He stood on shaky legs and staggered to his clothes heaped in the middle of the floor.
Damn,
why hadn’t he yanked off his trousers closer to the bed?

Brynn watched Reece rifle through his things, her gaze moving over his sculpted body. Every part of him was lean, sinewy muscle. Need throbbed at her core in time with her pounding heart. She’d never get tired of looking at him.

Reece found the condom and tore open the package as he made his way back to the bed. With deft fingers, he unrolled the latex down his thick shaft. Brynn wrapped her hand around his girth and slid her palm down his length.

His eyes flared and something leaped low inside her. Wet heat gathered between her legs. She’d done this. She’d made him want as desperately as she did.

Reece cupped both sides of her face, capturing her mouth with his, hard flesh pressing against her. Every nerve ending lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Back to where we were.” He pulled her onto the bed so she was straddling his hips once more, his erection pressed to her damp core. She wanted him inside. She needed that delicious stretch; she needed release.

Her fingers tangled in his long hair and her hips rocked against his thick shaft. He shifted, the tip of his erection grazing her opening. She positioned herself over him, taking him in one lovely inch at a time.

He tilted his head back, eyes closed, cords in his neck straining. Raw feminine power surged through her. She rode him, taking him slow and deep, until familiar tension pulled taut within her. She hovered at the edge of climax, riding the brink like a wave before it crashed.

She cried out. Her orgasm ripped through her, pulling her in every direction.

Reece’s grip on her hips tightened. He quickened the pace, thrusting into her harder, faster. He groaned and stiffened, held himself rigid, pushing deep inside her, then sank back into the mattress.

Brynn collapsed on his chest, breath coming in ragged gasps. She had no idea how long she stayed like that, ear pressed to his chest, listening the to the rapid thud of his heart while his hand stroked her hair.

“Did it work?” Reece asked, voice quiet. “Did you forget?”

She knew what he meant. As much as she’d wanted him, as much as she loved the feel of his body moving in hers, she’d used him. And he knew it.

“For a while.” She risked a glance as his face. His eyes were heavy like hers, features relaxed. “Are you angry?”

He snorted. “Absolutely. I hated every moment. Couldn’t you tell?” He grinned and shook his head, smoothing her hair back with both hands. “You needed me, and I was there.”

Warmth swelled in her chest. He had been there, tonight and whenever she’d needed him since she’d arrived. She leaned in and kissed him, softly, sweetly. When she lifted her mouth, his expression turned serious.

“I wish things were different.”

“Me too.” She wished she met him in another time, another place. She wished they weren’t being stalked by a killer, that he wasn’t being blackmailed by a cop. But mostly she just wished they had more time.

After Reece disposed of the condom, they slid under the covers. He clicked off the lamp and darkness settled over them. Brynn stiffened, opened her mouth to ask him to turn the light back on, but snapped it shut again. What was the point? Whatever that shadow ghost was, he didn’t seem to come out if Reece was there.

She rolled onto her side and closed her eyes.

“Do you smell that?” Reece’s deep voice gave her a start.

She inhaled deeply. Sour rot flooded her nasal passage, thick and familiar. She jerked upright, gaze scanning the black. In the far corner the darkness squirmed and writhed until the outline of a man emerged. His red glare fixed on her.

The shadow slunk close, wet snuffling filling the silence.

“Do you see it?” Brynn squeaked, her heart lodged in her throat.

He nodded and nudged her toward the far side of the bed. “Go wait by the light switch.”

She whipped her head sideways, but it was too dark for her to make out his expression. “What about you?”

“I’m fine. I’ll tell you when to switch on the lights.”

She slid from the bed and scurried to the far side of the room. Reece edged closer to the shadow.

“Can you hear me?” he asked. It didn’t acknowledge him, its red gaze trailing Brynn. Immediately, it changed course and lumbered toward her.

Her pulse thudded in her ears, hand trembling over the switch.

Reece scrambled between her and the shadow. “What do you want here?”

It ignored him, fixed on Brynn. Black menace radiated from it like an invisible pulse. The closer it drew, the stronger the hate and rage and fear sizzling in the air.

“Switch on the lights,” Reece said.

Brynn pressed the button and electric light split the dark. The shadow vanished. Only the rotted stink remained.

“What is it?” Brynn asked, barely above a whisper.

Reece raked a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I haven’t a clue.”

* * *

Brynn woke slowly, vaguely aware of someone smoothing the covers over her shoulders. Her heavy eyes flickered open, lids scraping her stinging eyeballs, and squinted against the lamp’s yellow glow.

Reece leaned over her, straightening the blankets. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay.” She rubbed her eyes, then glanced around the room. The fire had burned down through the night, but there was no light seeping in from behind the drapes.

“What time is it?”

“Early. I need to slip out before the rest of the house wakes up.” He sat on the edge of her bed and absently brushed her hair back from her forehead. His voice was soft, his expression impossible to read. “Warlow caught me coming down the back stairs yesterday morning, and I made an excuse that I had been in fixing your light switch. He was the one who tampered with them.”

Brynn sat up, sleepiness dissolving like morning mist under the sun’s glare. “He admitted it?”

He shook his head. “Not in so many words.”

“Why would he do that?”

“He wants you to go.”

“Why not just ask me to leave?” Sneaking into her room and stealing her lightbulbs so a shadow ghost would attack her through the night was a rather convoluted means to send the message. “He has my father’s ear, and God knows Arthur wants me gone.”

Reece’s brows pulled together in a thoughtful frown. “Maybe not. Arthur could have told you to leave at any time. Why hasn’t he?”

“Eleri brought me here to remember what happened. Maybe he wants that, too. Maybe he’s hoping I can tell him his older daughter’s innocent.” Arthur had struck her as cold, but surely he didn’t want to see Eleri go to prison, especially if there was a chance she was innocent.

“So Arthur and Eleri want you to remember, maybe Warlow wants you gone before you do.”

Brynn’s stomach shriveled. Could Warlow have been the one who tried to drown her? Could he have been responsible for the murdered men? Eleri a convenient scapegoat. Where did that put Ruth? Maybe she was innocent, her connection to Hazelwood a coincidence like the residents’ deaths.

“I should never have said those things about Ruth last night.”

He shrugged. “You were desperate to help your sister, and Harding didn’t take anything you said seriously anyway.”

As much as she appreciated Reece’s assurances, they did little to ease the slick knots tangling her insides. “What if she loses her job because of me?”

He smirked. “I doubt Hugh Warlow will make decisions on his staff based on anything you said.”

Especially if he was the one killing people.

“I’m going to see my uncle today,” Reece said.

Brynn stiffened. “Why would you have anything to do with him?”

“If anyone can tell us what those shadows are, it’s him. I want you to come with me. I don’t want you here by yourself.”

“Eleri—”

“Warlow and your father will see her attorney. There’s nothing you can do for her.”

He was right, and she wanted to know what that thing in her room was, what it wanted. Besides, as much as she hated to admit it, she was curious about the man who’d raised Reece—exploited him.

Brynn showered and dressed quickly. The sky was barely light by the time they started downstairs. In the utility room, Reece turned the bolt, pulled open the back door and stepped aside for Brynn to go out ahead of him, but she froze in the opening.

Thick mist hovered above the driveway, blotting out the woods and the sea, but not the woman lying facedown in the gravel. Pale, red-streaked hands stretched toward Brynn, as though the woman had been crawling for the door before she’d given up. The wind kicked up and the tangy scent of the sea mixed with something meaty and metallic. Something dead.