Shivers Box Set: Darkening Around Me\Legacy of Darkness\The Devil's Eye\Black Rose (39 page)

Funny how so many things in his life could change, but this drab little cottage in the middle of nowhere always looked the same. Reece stood in the drive, hands jammed in his pockets. Cold wind whipped across the field, and dull nausea swam in his stomach.

“This is where you grew up?” Brynn asked, climbing out of the Land Rover.

He nodded, but didn’t look away from the house. White protective paint over stone walls, cracked and chipped, had yellowed with dirt and age. What lawn there might have been had long since given way to dirt and weeds. The only change Reece could see from when he’d last been here nearly fifteen years ago was a thin wooden panel mounted in one of the front windows where the glass must have broken and never been replaced.

Damp wind gusted over the fields, bowing the long, yellowed grass and biting at his flesh even through his clothes. Dark clouds hung low over the brown fields surrounding the house, adding to the overall melancholy. He still remembered when he’d been brought here, to this uncle whom he had no memory of meeting. His mother was gone, and he was alone without another person in the world. Fear had knotted his belly, tempered with a pathetic sort of hope that everything would be all right.

God, he still couldn’t believe he’d brought Brynn here. But after their grisly discovery he wasn’t letting Brynn out of his sight.

The dead woman had been Olivia Dodd, one of the women from the village who cleaned Stonecliff three days a week. But there’d been no reason for her to be at the house that morning. She didn’t work on Wednesdays and certainly never that early.

They spent most of the morning being interviewed by Harding and Miller. Brynn had pointed out to the detectives that he’d have to release Eleri. Her sister was the only person who couldn’t have killed Olivia Dodd. Once Harding had Reece alone, he’d ripped into him blaming Reece for Olivia’s murder. If he’d been paying attention to what was going on at Stonecliff instead of sniffing around Brynn, a good woman might still be alive.

Despite the ridiculousness of the detective’s claims, Reece bore some responsibility. The ghost following Harding had warned him, but Reece had been wrong about who “she” was and focused his attention on the wrong woman. Although, focusing on Olivia would have left Brynn vulnerable.

As
gifts
went, his was bloody useless.

“Are you okay?” Brynn asked, dragging him from his dark thoughts. Concern marred her features, and he fought the urge to smooth away the frown line between her brows.

He nodded, even though he was as far from okay as he could get. The idea of letting her see this ugly side to his life churned his stomach.

She laced her fingers with his and together they started to the cottage, past a red Prius—too new and clean to be his uncle’s. A client’s, obviously.

Anger simmered beneath his skin. Everything he’d gone through these past months and his uncle was just as he’d always been.

Reece shouldn’t be surprised, really. The old adage was true—you couldn’t teach an old dog new tricks, and Kendrick Conway was a creature of habit. He’d been making his living ripping off the desperate for far too long to let a little thing like the possibility of prison stop him. Besides, after their last run-in, it was Reece who’d had to pay, not Kendrick.

Never Kendrick.

He didn’t bother to knock. Instead, he entered quietly through the front, hoping to catch the old man off guard. He’d get more out of him for less if his uncle was frazzled.

Once Brynn followed him in, he closed the door, cutting out what little natural light there’d been, turning the small foyer dark. Smells of his childhood filled the air. Dust and mildew combined with the greasy stink of last night’s dinner. The odors were imbedded in the faded red carpet and yellowed walls. Not surprising, really. He couldn’t remember the last time the carpet had seen a hoover, or the walls a fresh tin of paint.

Doing his best to avoid Brynn’s gaze, Reece led her deeper into the house. Past the dim lounge where only the endless flicker from the telly cast a gray glow over newspapers scattered on the settee and across the floor. A collection of unwashed teacups and mugs littered the tables.

The only time Kendrick bothered with the washing up was when he ran out of clean dishes. It probably took even longer now that he was the only one dirtying them, and he didn’t have Reece to do the tidying like when he was a boy.

What must Brynn think of all this? He imagined her own childhood to be clean and pleasant, all Sunday luncheon and family teas. This must bloody repulse her.

Reece risked a glance into the kitchen as they passed. His suspicions were correct. The room was worse than he remembered it. Old food and grime caked the counter and cooker. Or at least what was visible between the mounds of dirty dishes.

Shaking his head, Reece made his way to the back room. The one room that Kendrick made any effort to tidy. As they drew closer, his uncle’s low voice drifted through the open door. He was well into another fine performance.

“He says that he was the one who moved the plate from the counter to the table.”

“Why? What does he want?” A woman’s tearful plea caught Reece like a fist to the stomach.

The smells, the mess, the quiet desperation from within this room sucked him back through time. He was eleven years old again. Kendrick’s dancing monkey. By then Reece had realized what he was doing was wrong, but the constant threat of being sent into care along with his uncle’s assurances that he would never be able to survive there kept him in line. Kept him obedient.

“In foster care, they’ll watch you all the time,” his uncle had told him. “Eventually, they’ll see what you are. You won’t be able to hide it. They’ll think you’re mad. You’ll wind up institutionalized with the other nutters and they’ll never let you out.”

The threat had iced Reece’s blood. Haunted his nightmares.

“He says he must move on now,” Kendrick’s voice dragged him back to the present. “But he’s afraid to leave you as you are. He wants you to move on as well. He wants you to keep living.”

Reece reached out with his mind, but there was no one there. He glanced at Brynn, wishing he could read her thoughts.

The woman sniffled. “Will you tell him that I love him?”

“He says he knows, love.”

Bloody hell, Reece couldn’t listen any longer. He sauntered through the door.

At the sight of him, the woman let out a small squeak and jumped, pressing her hand to her chest. Maybe she thought she’d seen a ghost. And hell, he could hardly blame her. His uncle had gone all out to create a sense of atmosphere.

Heavy purple drapes with silver moons and stars stitched on them covered the windows, blotting out the daylight. Pillar candles of different sizes and shapes burned and flickered in the corners, casting a soft glow over the room. Kendrick sat opposite the woman at a round table draped with the same material as the curtains. Good God, all his uncle needed was a crystal ball.

Kendrick had even dressed the part, from black trousers and turtleneck to his thinning dyed-black hair combed back in a pathetic attempt to hide his bald spot. His goatee gave his bony face a sense of severity, made worse by the scowl etched into his features while his light eyes bored into Reece.

“What are you doing here?” he ground out.

“Just popped ’round for a visit.” Reece glanced at the woman. Her fingers curled into the collar of her loose blouse, sunken eyes bouncing between him, Brynn and his uncle. A confused frown tightened her features.

Dull blond hair fell lank around her hollowed features. She looked old and worn-out, but was probably his age or only a few years older.

She’d obviously been through something, come to Kendrick for answers and instead was being sold a line of bullshit.

Familiar disgust curdled his insides. “You never bloody learn, do you?”

Kendrick paled and stood abruptly. “Mrs. Wesley, I’m afraid we have to cut our session short.”

“But what about…? Oh.”

Kendrick pulled back her chair. “This is my nephew and his…friend. I’m afraid we have some urgent family matters to see to, but I’ll walk you to your car.”

Mrs. Wesley, still frowning, nodded slowly. “All right, then.”

She grabbed her purse from the floor and followed Kendrick to the side door. The separate entrance allowed his clients to bypass the house and the filth he lived in. The thick scent of sandalwood from the candles and incense worked to smother the stink.

After years of living with both odors, one was as bad as the other.

Kendrick pulled back the heavy curtain covering the exit and dull light spilled in from the window mounted in the door. With a quick scowl at Reece, he opened the door and let Mrs. Wesley through first before following her out.

He probably wanted to collect his money without Reece watching, or commenting. While he waited for Kendrick to return, Reece moved around the room blowing out the candles and opening the curtains. “I can’t fucking believe him.”

Brynn’s gaze trailed him. “Are you sure you can handle this? You seem…agitated.”

His anger ebbed away. “I’m sorry to bring you into this.”

She tilted her head slightly, and frowned. “I brought
you
into this, actually. That shadow man isn’t bothering you.”

“I hope you’re happy with yourself,” Kendrick snarled, slamming the door behind him so hard the window rattled. “You nearly spoiled things for that poor woman.”

Reece scowled. “Me? Well, I suppose it would have been a shame for that poor woman to learn her dead husband wasn’t here, and she was handing her money over to an absolute fraud.”

Not that Reece would have told her. He’d learned his lesson. People believed what they wanted.

“I’m helping Mrs. Wesley. She’s only thirty-four and just spent the last year watching her husband battle leukemia. She’s convinced he’s still with her. Every time she forgets to switch off a light, or that she’s moved a book from one room to the next, she thinks it’s her dead husband trying to communicate. I’m helping the poor dear move on.”

Dull anger pulsed through Reece’s veins, at his temples, behind his eyes. “By feeding her a line of bullshit?”

“By letting her know her husband is at peace, I’m helping her find a little peace of mind for herself. And if I’ve had to stretch the truth do it, who does it hurt?”

“And how much is she coughing up for
peace of mind?
”

Kendrick ignored him, his shrewd gaze shifting to Brynn. “I’m Kendrick Conway—since my nephew seems to have forgotten to introduce us.”

He held out his hand to Brynn and she took it briefly. “Brynn James.”

“Have you always had an interest in the occult?” he asked, gaze moving over, measuring her, reading her.

Brynn merely shot Kendrick a tight smile. “Never.”

Kendrick’s own smile was open, benign,. “You give off a powerful energy, life force. Do you—”

Reece took a step toward his uncle. “Cut the shit, Kendrick. She’s been forewarned.”

Kendrick laughed. “What all has he said about me, then? Made me out to be a monster?”

Her eyes glittered like black glass. Reece had never seen her look so cold. “Exploitive is the word I’d use.”

Kendrick turned to Reece, smile stretching. “You’ve told her quite a bit, lad. Say what you want about me, but I was more than fair with you. I took you when no one else would. Housed you. Fed you. Clothed you. We were mates.”

“It was a paradise,” he said, flatly.

“I taught you how to manage your gift. How to use it, control it.”

“My mother taught me how to control it.”

“She taught you to block. And I still swear that’s what killed her. It’s not healthy to block what nature wants you to see.”

Every muscle in Reece’s body tensed, but he swallowed his building fury. He wouldn’t let himself be drawn into another pointless argument with the man.
Get your answers and get out
.

“I didn’t come here to rehash all this.”

Kendrick’s brows rose. “What did you come here for, then?”

“I need some…insight.” Reece dropped into the chair opposite his uncle. “I’ve seen something, but I’ve never dealt with anything like it before.” He launched into a description of the shadow man from Brynn’s room. When he finished, Kendrick was frowning.

“Sounds like a shadow person,” his uncle said, smoothing his goatee at the sides of his mouth with his thumb and forefinger.

“You’ve dealt with one before?”

Kendrick shook his head. “I’ve heard of them, but never seen one myself.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know, I’m afraid. No one does for certain. There are some theories, of course.” Kendrick paused for effect. “Because of the fear they invoke, some claim shadow people are demonic.”

Reece rolled his eyes, and Brynn shifted closer to him.

“Don’t be so quick to dismiss.” Kendrick waved a finger. “You of all people should know by now that there is more to this world than we can see.”

“Fair enough,” Reece said, without any real conviction. “You said there were other theories.”

“Visitors from another dimension.”

Suddenly demonic sounded like a real possibility. “Are you being serious?”

“Of course, I am,” Kendrick snapped, his features tight with annoyance. “For someone who sees the things you do, you’re oddly close-minded.”

Reece let out an impatient sigh. “So is that it, then?”

Kendrick shook his head. “Some say the shadows are manifestations of evil. Evil deeds create evil spirits, that sort of thing.”

The hair at the back of Reece’s neck bristled; Brynn stiffened beside him. Could a series of unexplained disappearances create enough evil to generate the form he’d seen last night?

“What do these shadows do?” Brynn asked.

“Honestly, aside from lurking menacingly, I don’t know. I’ve never heard of one doing anything to anyone. I’m afraid I don’t know much else about them.” He turned to Reece. “You ought to ring Carly, she might know, and if she doesn’t she’ll know someone who does. She’d
love
to hear from you, lad. She asks about you all the time.”