The Barrier Between (Collector Series # 2) (44 page)

She stuffed the wallet into her purse and hurried to
her prehistoric Toyota and climbed in. The thing grumbled like an
old man being asked to move, and puttered out of the parking lot at
a snail’s pace. Riley flipped the radio on, drowning out the car’s
protest with
Skillet
belting about
Monsters
as she
followed the address to the outskirts of the city, along the
industrial stretch of highway reserved mainly for delivery trucks.
She kept her speed under the required limit, not wanting to miss
this mysterious turn stated on the card.

When it materialized, almost quite literally, Riley
almost missed it. She slammed down on her brakes, thankful no one
else was behind her as she twisted the wheel and pulled onto the
shoulder to gape.

She’d driven down that road a million times. She
lived a single block further up and yet not once in ten years had
she ever noticed that opening. Yet, there it was, so either she
wasn’t very observant of her surroundings or it had appeared by
magic. She went for the first, because magic did not exist.

Carefully, she eased into the bend, keeping her foot
light on the gas as she maneuvered the tight wind deeper into a
stretch of wilderness she wasn’t all too comfortable navigating.
The dirt path carved deep into the unknown, guiding her, seemingly
compelling her forward without an end in sight. It felt like hours
before the thin, bare trees finally parted, revealing an opening
paved in gravel, weeds and dirt. The surrounding trees loomed like
gangly giants all around, reaching up to the heavens, choking the
blue and sunlight with creeping shadows. It was no wonder nothing
grew there. Every bush, plant and shrub was dead, barren and
wilted.

Riley shuddered as she pulled up in front and cut the
engine. Aside from her car, there were a number of very shiny, very
expensive looking cars crouched like hunched mammoths throughout
the wide clearing-turned parking lot. She climbed out, slammed her
car door closed and faced the monster of a house looming like
something from the
Addams Family
before her
.

The place was a jungle of vines climbing over dark
stones and stained glass. Columns of granite loomed with massive
force over curved stairs leading onto a broad porch. With the four
turrets, several levels and the sheer height, it was impossible to
judge just how many floors actually created the place, but it was a
thing of horror movies. She wondered briefly if she’d find wind
chimes fashioned of human bones hanging from the drain pipes and if
a creepy Frankenstein butler would be answering the door.

Riley second guessed her decision to continue the
handful of steps from where she stood near the safety of her car to
climb the marble steps to the grand opening. But move she did,
crossing the distance until she stood before the doors.

It was a thing of legends, ten feet of solid bronze
stamped into mahogany. Sunlight spilled pale fingers down the
precise design, tracing the grotesque figures immortalized in the
metal. It took some squinting and two full steps back to fully take
in the image.

It was a bird, majestic wings sprawled from frame to
frame in flight. Its feet were buried in the disemboweled bodies of
men crawling from fiery pits. They clawed at the bird’s legs,
trying desperately to untangle themselves from the flames tearing
flesh from bones. Over the bird’s head, men stood on clouds,
brandishing bows and arrows aimed below. Above the door, the words
Final Judgment
were burned into smooth oak. Riley swallowed
thickly, wondering what the hell kind of place she’d stumbled
across. Then she spotted the umlaut carved into the plaque just
beneath the sign.

“All shall be judged,” she read quietly to herself.
“Lovely,” she muttered, exhaling.

Well, she’d come this far. Turning back now just
seemed like a waste of time. Plus, she still had to return the
wallet, which was weighing heavily in her purse.

Resigned, she knocked loudly, not trusting the person
on the other end to hear her, judging by the massive size of the
house. She tapped her fingers against her thighs, waiting. Seconds
turned into minutes and she tried again, using her fist this time.
When nothing happened again, she glanced at the cars darkening the
driveway and frowned. She turned to the house and tilted her head
back, taking in the massiveness of it.

Hesitant, she reached for the bronze handle and
twisted. The door swung inward to a soundless emptiness that seemed
to echo through the grand chamber crafted from stone and wood.

At first glance, there was nothing welcoming about
the place. It was dimly lit by flickering candles mounted on the
stone walls and hung from the iron chandelier overhead. The floors
were glossy hardwood that appeared black in the gloom. The only
occupants were the square tables and iron chairs scattered
throughout the place, interrupted only by a square dais rising from
the ground. A neat pile of firewood rested in the center, unlit,
but ready to be so at a moment’s notice. A solid oak bar loomed at
the far corner with shelves of alcohol lining the wall behind it in
brightly colored bottles. There was another counter on the opposite
end with an old fashioned register on top and a rectangular window
cut into the wall behind it. It was an odd set up, but it made
sense, seeing as how it appeared to be a restaurant and bar combo.
The only problem was that she was the only one there.

“Hello?” she called, crossing over the threshold
tentatively and moving to the counter with the window. She strained
her neck to try and see into the back. “Is anyone—?”

“Yes, someone is.”

Riley released a startled scream before she could
stop herself. She whipped around to confront the smooth voice
behind her. Her hand flew to her heart as it hammered frightfully
in her chest.

“Geez!” she blurted, staring at the man who stood
there serenely.

As handsome went, the man took the cake. He was
downright gorgeous with a headful of glossy black hair swept back
from an elegantly classical face, topped with a square chin, rugged
jaw and prominent brow. He stood dominating her tiny frame by a
full foot, bringing him to a little over six feet tall with a build
made for the cover of romance novels. It was concealed by a neatly
tailored suit of rich navy that complimented his striking good
looks and tan features.

Riley felt her jaw slacken.

The man smiled, apparently amused by her reaction. “I
apologize. I sometimes forget how quietly I walk, a fact my wife
berates me over constantly.” He moved around her to stand behind
the counter. “Are you here for lunch? Or can I help you with …
something else?”

Maybe it was her imagination, but the way he said
something else
made her cheeks flush.

She shook her head, more to clear it than anything
else. “No, I’m looking for someone.”

His dark eyebrows lifted, interest now plain on his
face. “Are you? And who might that be?”

Riley dug into her purse for the card she’d stuffed
there. She unearthed it and held it up to read. “Octavian Maxwell?
Is he here or do you know him?”

Something like mild confusion blended with interest
behind his features. “Are you an acquaintance?”

Riley met his gaze levelly. “No, we’ve never met. He
was at the post office earlier today and dropped his wallet. I’m
just here to return it.”

There was no concealing the outright shock on the
man’s face. She could have announced she was part alien from the
planet Uranus. “You … you brought back his
wallet
?” There
was an accusing tone in the question, like he was appalled that she
would dare bring Octavian drugs.

It was Riley’s turn to look bemused. “Uh …” She
pulled out the wallet and held it up for the man to see. “I think
it’s his. I mean, it had his business cards inside …”

The man stared as though she held a deadly cobra. “So
you did …” He quickly seemed to catch himself and his smile
returned, full and cheerful. “Well, isn’t that thoughtful of you.
I’m afraid my son isn’t here at the moment, but I can take it—”

Riley took a quick step back, clutching the wallet to
her chest. “I’m sorry and no offense, but I’d like to give it to
him personally. There are some very important things inside and I’d
feel better knowing he got them. Not saying that you wouldn’t give
it to him, but …” She hastily stuffed the wallet back into the
safety of her purse.

Straight, white teeth flashed in a brilliant smile.
“I understand. In that case.” He circled around the counter to face
Riley fully. “Why don’t you stay for lunch? We don’t get very many
visitors during the day. Most of our patrons prefer the cloak of
darkness.” He smiled as though he’d made a private joke. “I’m sure
Octavian will be back shortly.”

Riley thought of the measly handful of coins at the
bottom of her purse, barely enough to cover a cup of coffee, and
shook her head. “That’s really nice of you, but I—”

He waved her excuse away. “Nonsense. It’s on the
house. Think of it as our way of thanking you for your …
kindness.”

“It was really no trouble. This place is actually on
my way home, so …” she trailed off, letting him fill in the
blanks.

“Nevertheless.” He guided her with a gentle hand to a
nearby table. “I insist.”

Riley sat as he hurried back to the counter. He
returned a moment later with a plastic encased menu. She thanked
him, but didn’t touch it until he left her with a polite
inclination of his head. He disappeared through the swinging doors
behind the counter, leaving Riley alone in the eerie room.

She glanced at her purse resting on the table in
front of her and wondered what kind of person carried that amount
of cash around and how the hell did one not notice losing it? She’d
go out of her damn mind if it had been her. Granted, she’d never
had that much money in her life to lose, but even misplacing ten
dollars was a big deal. She remembered washing a pair of jeans with
five dollars in the pocket once. She’d been devastated when she’d
pulled out the torn and crumpled bits of paper from her pocket the
next day. It hadn’t been much, but it had been enough to pay for a
loaf of bread and a carton of milk. No, that had not been a good
day for her. So she could only imagine what Octavian must have been
feeling at that moment.

“Have you decided?”

Riley jumped and smacked the underside of the table
with her knees. “Jesus!”

The man, having mysteriously materialized mere feet
away from her, smiled sheepishly. “Forgive me.”

Riley offered him a slight smile. “You should
consider becoming a ninja.”

The man exhaled heavily. “Such a beautiful dream that
would be, if only I had the legs for tights.”

Riley giggled before she could stop herself.

The man smiled. “Have you decided?” he asked again,
gesturing with his chin towards the menu.

Riley passed over the untouched menu. “Just coffee,
please.” A safe choice. It just didn’t feel right ordering an
entire meal for free when she hadn’t really done anything to
deserve it.

The man’s brows drew together in a frown. “Are you
sure you wouldn’t like something to eat? Not to brag, but I make an
amazing turkey club.”

Riley chuckled. “No, thank you. I ate before I came,”
she lied, praying her stomach wouldn’t make a liar out of her. The
delicious scent from the kitchen was killing her and it was pure
luck she hadn’t started drooling or thinking about the last time
she’d eaten anything.

“If you’re certain.” The man’s gaze was thoughtful,
like he knew she was lying, but couldn’t call her on it.

She watched him walk away and slumped in her seat.
She turned her gaze out the window at the parking lot and watched
the wind play through the treetops. The knotted branches swayed,
parting just enough to allow a small flutter of sunlight to poke
through before it was smothered. Riley wondered what kind of people
opened a restaurant in the middle of nowhere where no one could
find them. Images of cannibals masquerading as restaurant owners
played through her mind. A chill swept up her spine, making her
shudder. Her gaze swept over the room, wondering if it was too late
to leave before she was chopped up and served as that evening’s
Riley soup.

“I’m coming out!” came a voice from the kitchen,
moments before the doors swung outward and the man strolled through
carrying a silver tray the same silver color as his eyes. It was
laden with a coffee pot, a cup, a dispenser for cream and a small
bowl of sugar cubes. He set it down before her and nimbly poured
her the drink.

“Will there be anything else?”

Riley eyed the dark brew, remembering a scene from
the
Texas Chain Saw Massacre
where the girl had been drugged
after drinking something she was given. She shook her head. “No,
thank you.” She fidgeted. “Maybe I should come back. I promised my
friends that I would come right back after dropping off the wallet.
They’re waiting for me at the end of the road.”

The man, if he sensed her lie, did nothing more than
give her an indulgent smile. “I’m positive Octavian will be here at
any moment. I apologize for taking up so much of your time, but of
course you are more than welcome to come back at any time, if you
wish.”

Feeling silly for being so paranoid, especially when
he was being so nice, Riley shook her head. “I can wait for a
little longer.”

The man inclined his head. “Stay for as long as you
wish.” He took a step back and clapped his hands together once.
“Are you sure there is nothing else I can get for you?”

She started to give her head another shake when she
thought of something. “You wouldn’t happen to have this morning’s
paper, would you?” she asked.

“I do.” He left, returning a moment later with the
paper. He set it down next to her cup. “Enjoy.”