The Kingdom (18 page)

I started to call to him, but Thane put a hand on my arm. “Shush. Listen.” He cocked his head.

In the silence, I heard the distant echo of a bark. “Oh, no. Thane, he’s gone into the cave.”

We were still standing face-to-face, and I hadn’t realized that my hand had crept to his chest. When I noticed, I quickly dropped it to my side.

“I’ll go in and get him,” he said.

“I’ll come with you.”

“No, you stay put. I know that cave. I explored every inch of it as a kid. It dead-ends about a quarter of a mile in, so he can’t go far.”

“But you don’t even have a flashlight.”

“I have a penlight on my key chain and I have my cell phone. Don’t worry. I’ll find him.”

I glanced anxiously at the opening in the cliff. “What if he’s cornered something in there?”

“All the more reason I should go in alone.” When I would have protested, he said, “I’m not trying to be all protective. Like I said, I’m familiar with the cave. Alone, I can move a lot faster if I need to get the hell out.”

It seemed foolish to argue with that logic. I watched him slip through the opening into darkness, then I waited by the cave for a moment, trying to pick up the sound of Angus’s bark. I heard Thane call to him, and then all was silent. I told myself they would be fine. Thane was more than capable of taking care of himself and Angus’s instincts would keep him safe. It did no one any good for me to stand there working myself up into a panic.

Nor would I dwell on that kiss. I had no idea what had happened, how I had let myself get carried away so quickly because that wasn’t at all like me. I was the cautious, reserved type. Or at least…I had once been. Before Devlin.

Moving away from the entrance, I knelt by the pool and dipped my fingers in the water. Thane was right. The water was as cold as a melted glacier, the spray from the falls like the chill of a winter rain. As I stared down into those dark depths, a leaf dropped into the water, and my reflection wavered in the tiny spirals. But even as the leaf floated past me, the ripples continued as though the water had been disturbed by some underwater eruption. Once again, I heard a hum, like the ghostly vibration of a tuning fork.

I was still staring down into the pool, watching the tiny undulations, when a reflection appeared over mine in the water. I thought it was Freya’s ghost at first, but then I realized that someone stood at the top of the cliff gazing down into the glade. Even as I lifted my head, the spirals intensified, and the reflection quivered into nothingness.

She had been there, though. I hadn’t imagined her any more than I’d invented the silhouette in the laurel bald. Someone was following us. And for that split second the face had appeared in the water, I could have sworn it was Ivy.

A sound came to me from the cave. A bark and then Thane’s voice. Thank God, they were coming back.

I was still staring up at the top of the cliff when they emerged from the cave a few moments later. Angus must have caught the girl’s scent because he began to bark excitedly.

Thane frowned. “What’s the matter with him? He was perfectly fine in the cave.”

“Someone was up there.” I pointed to the top of the cliff.

Thane glanced up. “Just now?”

“Yes. I saw a reflection in the pool, but when I looked up she was gone.”

“She?”

“It was a girl.”

He shrugged. “Probably just some kids camping out in here. I saw the remnant of a fire in the cave. Maybe that’s why she disappeared so quickly. This is Asher property. She was probably afraid of being caught trespassing.”

“Is there another way to the top of the cliff besides scaling the wall?”

“Yes, there’s a path a little farther on.”

“If someone was coming from the laurel bald, would they have had time to get up there by that path?”

A brow lifted, but all he said was, “Assuming they know the area.”

I started to mention Ivy, but then I wondered if what he’d told me earlier had planted the idea in my head. That cliff was at least fifty feet above the pool. An accurate identification from a wavering reflection didn’t seem all that plausible even to me now. And maybe that silhouette at the gravesite had been nothing more than a shadow. The sun had been in my eyes, after all.

But I hadn’t imagined those traps last night. I hadn’t imagined being lured into the woods.

“You want me to climb up there and take a look around?” Thane asked.

“You don’t need to do that. It was probably just a camper like you said.”

“You still look upset. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. But I’m ready to get out of here.”

“Let’s head back, then.”

As we walked through the archway, I glanced back into the glade, my gaze lifting to the symbols and then to the top of the cliff. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I glimpsed a shadow moving stealthily along the edge, as if trying to keep pace with us.

Twenty-One

I
t was noon by the time we started back. The sun was directly overhead, but dark clouds hung suspended over the mountains, and I could hear thunder rumbling through the hills. The storm was a long way off, though, and I had no idea if it was even headed our way. Still, I felt an electric tingle along my scalp and in my fingertips, and as the breeze died away, the air felt heavy with portent.

The path around the cliff was narrow, so we walked single file. Thane led the way, with me in the middle and Angus bringing up the rear. I wasn’t much in the mood to talk. I was still too preoccupied by what had happened in the glade between Thane and me. And I couldn’t shake the notion that someone—possibly Ivy—had been following us. I found myself glancing back now and then to see if I could spot her.

Thane had gotten a bit ahead of me, and as we neared the forest, he waited for me to catch up before entering the trees. The path widened, and we were able to walk side by side, shoulders brushing. I welcomed his nearness even as I shied away from any physical contact.

He lifted a pine bough that drooped over the path, and as I ducked under, he said, “I need to tell you something.”

I straightened and looked at him. “Yes?”

For a moment, he seemed oddly at a loss, as if he didn’t quite know where to start. “Yesterday, I told you that I’d gone to your website to look you up, but that’s not altogether true. I did go to your website, but I already knew about you. I knew that day on the ferry.”

I was still on edge so my tone sharpened. “How?”

“I remembered seeing your picture in the paper last spring after everything came out about Oak Grove Cemetery.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I wasn’t one-hundred-percent certain. That’s why I looked you up. I started searching back through some of the internet articles until I found the photograph. You were standing outside the cemetery gates with a man. A cop. He had his arm around you. You were both looking away from the camera, but I had the feeling the photographer had captured an intimate moment.” He paused. “None of my business, of course, so feel free to tell me to go to hell. But…you know what I’m asking, right? And why I’m asking?” He turned to stare down at me, and I thought he seemed tense. “It isn’t just about what happened at the waterfall.”

My heart gave a painful kick. “I know.”

“Well?”

I drew a quick breath. “His name is John Devlin. He was the police detective in charge of that case. I was a consultant for a time.”

“And more?”

“Yes.”

“How much more?”

“It doesn’t matter. We’re not together now.”

“Why not?”

I couldn’t tell him about Devlin’s ghosts. Even if he would have believed me, it wasn’t something I could share. Devlin didn’t even know about them, and confiding in Thane somehow seemed a betrayal to him. “It’s complicated.” I turned and walked past him up the path. When he caught up with me, I said, “He lost his wife and daughter. He wasn’t ready to move on.”

“What about you? Are you ready to move on?”

I closed my eyes briefly. “I don’t know. I’m not over him, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m not sure I’ll ever be.”

“Is that why you came here? To nurse a broken heart?”

“I came here because I was offered a job,” I said flatly.

His expression was guarded, the eyes deeply shadowed. “For what it’s worth, I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. I know that emptiness, that awful helpless feeling.”

“Your grandfather told me about Harper,” I said softly.

He frowned. “What did he say?”

“He said she was the girl you wanted to marry. She died in a car crash, and you blamed yourself for allowing her to go out in a storm.”

Anger flared. “Did he also mention how he’d done everything in his power to keep us apart?”

“No.” But I remembered his grandfather’s comment about the girl’s mental instability. “Why did he try to keep you apart?”

“Because she wasn’t part of his grand design.” A muscle pulsed at his temple. “And her family didn’t meet with his approval.”

“Why not?”

“She didn’t have money or connections, the right kind of pedigree. None of that mattered to me, of course. I only wanted Harper. If not for the accident, we would have been married that spring despite Grandfather’s objections.”

“I’m sorry.”

He was silent for a moment. I heard the rumble of thunder in the distance and the rustle of leaves overhead as the breeze picked back up, bringing the scent of rain and the promise of bad weather.

Thane looked up through the breaks in the canopy where the sun still shone brightly. “It was a long time ago and who knows if it would have lasted. We were young, and I can look back now and admit that part of the appeal of our romance was bucking Grandfather’s wishes. Don’t get me wrong,” he said quickly. “I did love her. And I’m also grateful to Grandfather for taking me in when I had nowhere else to go. I’ll never be able to repay him for all that he’s done for me. But—”

“He never quite lets you forget that you’re not a true Asher.”

He gave a little laugh. “When you say it like that, it sounds pretty petty.”

“No, it doesn’t. At best, it must be awkward and at worst, soul-crushing.”

He reached out briefly to touch my cheek, his fingers as light as a dragonfly skimming across a pond. “He’s a fool, you know.”

We were no longer talking about Pell Asher.

It’s not his fault,
I wanted to tell him.
It’s hard to let go of the ghosts of your past when they won’t let go of you.

I didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to read too much into his eyes, so I focused instead on Angus, sitting on the path patiently waiting for us.

But my mind was in turmoil. I hadn’t expected this, nor did I want it. I wasn’t looking for romance with Thane Asher, and yet I couldn’t deny a connection that was starting to frighten me.

“Thane—”

“Don’t say it. Don’t say anything.”

“I have to.”

He put a fingertip to my lips. “Life’s too short to live in the past, Amelia. Let him have his ghosts.”

* * *

When we arrived back at the cemetery, I turned to say goodbye at the gate. I needed to work for as long as I could before the storm moved in, and I really wanted some alone time to sort things out. That kiss at the falls had left me confused and emotionally shattered. I felt the inevitable tug-of-war: the desire, always, to return to Charleston, to Devlin. The need, for now, to stay here with Thane.

“I should get to work,” I said briskly.

The old grin flashed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I think it’s time for you to meet the rest of the family.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Dear old Aunt Emelyn. You did say you wanted to see her.” Thunder rumbled closer, and he looked out over the cemetery toward the mountains. “You’re not going to get any work done this afternoon. That storm is moving down fast.”

And with his words came a gust of wind that swept a flurry of dead leaves across the graves. Along the edge of the forest, the tops of the pine trees started to dip and swell like waves in a dark green sea, and a sheet of rain raced toward us, the patter on the leaves and on the ground like the whisper of a thousand ghosts. On the heels of the rain came rolling thunder and flash after flash of lightning. And just like that, the storm was upon us.

Thane took my hand. “Come on. Let’s make a run for it.”

We could just have easily backtracked to the cars, but instead we raced through the maze of monuments and headstones, through the lych-gate and past that circle of angels with their faces upturned to the storm.

Shoving open the mausoleum door, Thane stepped aside for me to enter. Angus came in behind me, shaking water droplets from his coat. It was dim inside, but I could see lightning flashes through the stained-glass windows and the shimmer of cobwebs from the corners. The stone walls were cold and felt damp to the touch, and the whole place reeked of mildew and neglect. In the middle of the stone floor, a long set of stairs led down into the dead-dark shadows of the tomb.

Thane wedged something underneath the door to keep it open so that what little light was left outside filtered in. I welcomed the fresh air, too, that storm-charged breeze that tangled my hair and stirred the cobwebs.

“What do you think?” he asked. “You still want to see her?”

“Yes, only…”

His eyes glinted. “Not afraid, are you?”

“Of Aunt Emelyn, no. I’m not crazy about snakes and spiders, though.”

“What kind of restorer are you, anyway?”

“The cautious kind. Do you still have your penlight?”

He dangled the key chain. “But I seem to remember candles from before and, hopefully, matches. Should I go down alone?”

“That’s okay. I’ve learned to deal with my phobias. You can go first, though.”

“Thanks.” He descended into the gloom. “Stay close and watch your step. These stairs are steep.”

Angus, I noticed, didn’t follow. He wanted no part of that tomb.

I was right on Thane’s heels. When he stopped halfway down, I almost smashed into him. “What’s wrong?” I asked breathlessly.

“Just trying to remember where the sconces are.” He went down another few steps and played the light over the stone walls. “Ah. Here we are.” I heard the strike of a match, and then light flared, animating giant shadows on the walls. Cupping the flame, Thane lit the candles, then plucked one from the sconce and handed it to me as he pocketed his penlight. Then he took another candle for himself.

We went down the rest of the steps, and he lit more candles at the bottom. The tomb was larger than I would have expected, with walls of crypts and vaults that vanished into darkness. I saw the glitter of more cobwebs, the glint of reflected light on sterling-silver markers and plaques. The smell of mildew grew stronger, and I could well imagine the creep of black mold in every corner and crevice.

“This is incredible,” I said, and the stone walls threw my breathless voice back to me.

“Too bad we don’t have proper lighting,” he said. “We’ll have to come prepared next time. Some of the carvings and scrollwork on the vaults is extraordinary.”

“Was that the tiniest bit of pride I heard in your voice just now?” I teased him.

He glanced over his shoulder, his face eerie in the flickering light. “I’ve never disputed the family has taste,” he said. “My quibble is with the overindulgence. And speaking of which…” He held the candle high. “Emelyn’s coffin is this way.”