The Perfect Kiss (23 page)

But would
he
be safe with her? Anya thought.

A few minutes later, in spite of her warnings, in spite of Karl’s and Freida’s horrified expressions, they all trekked back out to the cliffs.

The night was lovely, all moonlight and mist and black sea spangled silver as it rushed over the rocks below in great shimmering arcs of sea spray. A chilly wind blew across the cliffs, bringing with it the scent of rain and a darker, more evocative smell that made Anya quake with dread.

Was it just the coming storm that caused her skin to tingle? The thickening fog seemed somehow unnatural, evil as it swirled around their feet. Anya stood aloof from the group, scanning their surroundings as she reminded herself there was safety in numbers. She’d agreed to let everyone come back out here because of that.

That and the fact that Roland Sutton wouldn’t take no for an answer. Forbidding the excursion would have aroused suspicions, created questions for which Anya had no answers. At least not answers she could give them.
She’d been backed into a corner, and there’d been nothing to do but submit.

But surely they would be safe enough. Even the most savage, the most bloodthirsty of animals would hesitate to attack a group this large.

Anya’s gaze rested on the dilapidated mansion in the distance. The swirling fog animated the house, permeating the once graceful lines until she felt as though the structure was somehow coming alive. It was calling out to her, just as it had when she was a child, beckoning her to explore the mysteries hidden inside.

Come to me, Anya. Come to me now, forever.

“No.” She whispered the word aloud, but Anya could feel her senses reeling from a strange lethargy she couldn’t seem to fight. It had crept up on her with the fog, without warning.

Resist! she commanded herself. You must resist!

But it was just a house, she thought. Just a house that she had always been oddly drawn to.

The mist in Anya’s head swirled as thick as the fog rising from the sea. She heard voices, as if from a distance, and recognized Zach’s. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now when the call was so strong, so irresistible. She wanted to go to the house. She wanted to learn its secrets. She wanted…what waited for her inside.

Slowly, trancelike, she began to walk toward it. The mist parted before her. The breeze kissed her hair, stroked her cheek.

Just a little farther, my sweet Anya…

“Anya!”

The voice called to her as if from a distance. Anya wavered for a moment, then continued her journey. Soon she would be there. Soon she would know all the mysteries of
the world. Soon, very soon, she would be free. Yes, yes, almost there…

Anya.

“Anya!”

Two voices called to her now. One from the house, and one from behind her. Anya stopped and listened. It was hard to say which call was stronger, which was more compelling. She took another faltering step toward the house.

“Anya!”

One voice was louder than the other. One voice was closer, stronger, harder to resist. Anya whirled and watched Zach stride toward her in the moonlight.

“Where are you going?” he asked impatiently when he caught up to her. He took her arm, his warm fingers closing around her cool flesh. Anya took a deep breath and tried to dispel the panic growing inside her.

Where
had
she been going? Her actions now seemed like part of a dream. A hazy memory. A cunning trick.

“I…don’t know,” she admitted, fighting a sudden panic. She gazed up at Zach and felt the warmth of his eyes raking over her.

Zach’s fingers plowed through his hair. “You scared me half to death. We were standing there talking about the shoot, and the next thing I knew, you’d up and disappeared. My heart nearly stopped when I turned around and you weren’t there. I can’t tell you what passed through my mind—” He stopped abruptly, as though realizing how much he’d revealed. He dropped her arm. “What
are
you doing?”

“We have to go,” she said, evading his question. The storm was closing in. She could feel the change in the air. A cloud partially darkened the moon, and the wind picked up. Anya shivered. It was so dark outside. So very dark,
and they were so very alone, so very exposed. She grabbed Zach’s arm. “Where are the others?”

“They left,” he said.

Anya’s heart leaped to her throat. “Left? You mean…we’re alone?”

“You needn’t say it that way,” Zach said, scowling.

“Where did they go?”

“They went back to the inn. We did everything we could, but with the storm coming in, Julian wasn’t able to do much with the light readings. We’ll come back out first thing tomorrow and work on the set. We’ll need to get a generator for the lights….”

Zach talked on, but Anya wasn’t listening. Not to him. The wind whispered through the trees and there were messages demanding to be heard, warnings that had to be heeded. There was an unmistakable smell in the air.

“Oh my God,” she whispered.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” Zach demanded. “First you take off without a word, then you look as though you think I might—”

She clutched his arm. “We have to get out of here. Zach, run! Run as fast as you can!”

She grabbed his hand and tugged as she started toward the path that would lead them to home and to safety. Surprised, Zach resisted for a moment, but only for a moment. Something in her face must have testified to her terror because, suddenly, he was racing through the night beside her.

He ran fast. Incredibly fast. Anya could tell that he was a runner, but still she slowed her pace to his. Alone, she might have had a chance, but she wouldn’t leave him. She never would leave him….

“Hurry,” she gasped.

A shadow covered the moon, and the darkness was complete. Zach tripped over an unseen rock and cursed viciously,
but his speed never slackened. Anya’s urgency spurred him on. She could tell by the way he moved, with an economy of effort and carefully paced breathing, that he meant to make the long haul. They would not stop until they reached home.

Something swooped in the air overhead. A shadow darted toward them, then glided away. Mist swirled around their feet. Like an evil breath, a cold, dank wind blew down Anya’s collar. Something tugged at her hand that clasped Zach’s. Something was trying to pry apart their hold. Something was trying to separate them….

“Son of a bitch,” Zach gasped. His hand tightened on Anya’s. She could feel the warm life force flowing through his hand, beating against hers, pounding against her skin like an affirmation of glorious light.

And Gershom felt it, too. Anya could feel his rage in the shadows that pursued them. She glanced over her shoulder and saw him, and her breath caught in her throat.

Two bloodred eyes pinned her in the darkness as the massive black animal surged toward them. This time, it was Anya who stumbled. Again Zach’s grip tightened, saving her from falling, and behind them the beast roared with hatred.

Anya could smell the fetid breath now, a scent more foul and evil than she could have imagined. Oh, God, how deceitful he was! How diabolical he was to make his victims see only what they wanted to see. How foolish she had been! How conceited and shallow. And now a part of his evil tainted her, would always taint her. She would never be free.

As they burst out of the woods, Anya realized they weren’t going to make it, she and Zach. She could see the house with its windows glowing like yellow beacons in the darkness, but it was still too far away. The giant lawn separated
them from safety, and to cross it they would be completely exposed, unprotected.

As though sensing its victory, the beast gave a bloodcurdling howl. Anya turned just as it came flying through the darkness toward them. Its lunge took it all the way off the ground, until it appeared to be soaring through the air. For one second, for one heart-stopping moment, Anya thought she even saw wings.

But it was a fleeting impression at best. In the next instant, Zach pushed her aside with such force that Anya tumbled to the ground. Horrified, she watched as Zach turned and faced the darkness, placing himself between her and the monster that hurtled toward them.

The force of the collision sent both man and beast sailing through the air. They landed with a crash at the bottom of the porch steps. Someone screamed. Was it her? Anya couldn’t be sure. She had only dizzying impressions of glowing red eyes; bared, dripping fangs; and a low, spine-tingling growl that sounded very much like laughter as the monster glared down in triumph at Zach.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

T
he beast’s eyes stared at him with such hatred, with such venom that Zach’s breath stopped in his throat. There was something about those eyes, he thought fleetingly, those red, glowing, monstrous eyes—

The weight of the animal crushed him as the gaping, foul-smelling mouth lowered and angled toward his throat. Gasping, trying to shove the dog off, Zach could feel the power of the animal’s muscles, bunched, readying for the kill. The dog growled, baring gleaming white fangs that looked dagger sharp. Zach’s own muscles strained against the power of the enraged beast.

The dog growled again, low and menacing, but suddenly it was backing away, its attention focused on something behind Zach. Zach got to his feet, watching the dog retreat farther and farther into the shadows, until only the bloodred eyes could be seen.

Anya clutched his arm. “Come on,” she urged. “We have to get inside.”

Struggling to quiet his pounding heart, he followed Anya up the porch steps, where Karl and Freida were standing near the open door. Zach kept his gaze on the eyes watching them from the darkness. He could hear the low snarls carried by the wind, but the dog made no move toward them.

“Hurry,” Anya said, pulling on his arm. “We must get inside.”

Karl opened the door wider, and they all stepped through
into the foyer. Then the older man turned and quickly shot home the bolt.

“That damned dog nearly killed me,” Zach muttered, examining a long scratch on the back of his hand. “Maybe I should find some sort of a weapon and go back out there and try to scare it away.” Not that it was an idea he particularly relished. But Zach hated to think an animal that dangerous might remain lurking around Anya’s house—

His thoughts broke off as he became aware of the silence. Screaming silence. Silence that made gooseflesh rise up along his forearms. He looked up to find three pairs of solemn eyes studying him intently.

That was when he saw what Freida clutched in her hand. That was when the first premonition of horror slid up his spine.

The silver cross that dangled from the rosary beads seemed to glow with an unearthly light. Zach stared at it for a second, then lifted his puzzled gaze to Freida. “What is this?” he asked slowly. “Some sort of ritual?”

He was only half-joking, but the housekeeper’s eyes stifled whatever nervous amusement he might have been feeling. She said stiffly, “You can’t go back out there. It’s too dangerous.”

“You must not go,” Karl agreed, and Zach noticed that he, too, wielded a cross. “Under any circumstances.”

“What’s going on here?” Zach demanded, with mounting suspicion. “Anya?” He turned to her, but she averted her gaze.

The indefinable aroma in Anya’s house seemed to have intensified. For the first time since he’d arrived, Zach was able to pinpoint the smell. Garlic. Anya’s house always smelled of garlic. But it was stronger now, and the religious icons over the doors took on a new and more sinister meaning.

Zach’s gaze went again to the cross Freida clutched to her chest, to the one Karl gripped in his gnarled hand. Then slowly, Zach turned and looked at Anya again.

Her silver eyes were shadowed with fear, but there was something else in those misty depths. Something that Zach was suddenly afraid to put a name to. He felt another shiver slipping over him as he stared at her. “What the hell is going on around here?”

Freida spoke sharply in German, but Anya silenced her with a slight movement of her hand. She answered her back in German. The housekeeper’s gray eyebrows pulled together in stern disapproval, but without saying a word, both she and Karl turned and headed toward the kitchen. When they had left, Anya said, “Let’s go into the library.”

Zach followed her across the foyer, and when they had both stepped into the library, he turned and slid the double doors closed behind them. A fire had been lit in the grate, and Zach noticed that Anya crossed the floor immediately and held out her hands to the flickering heat.

“How did you know about that dog?” he asked, coming to stand beside her. “You warned us at dinner that the countryside wasn’t safe. You knew then. Why didn’t you tell me, specifically, what you were afraid of?”

“You never would have believed me,” she said. The firelight danced in her eyes and, for one insane second, Zach could have sworn he saw a touch of red within those flaming depths.

He blinked and the image disappeared. Once again her eyes were cool and remote, but oddly beckoning. Strangely sad. He felt his heart begin to thud slowly in his chest. “Why do you think I wouldn’t believe you, Anya? Have I ever given you reason to distrust me?”

“No,” she acknowledged. “But trust is something I
don’t easily give. What I’m about to tell you can never, ever go beyond this room, Zach. Will you promise me?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“That’s the way it has to be. No matter what, you must swear never to reveal a word of our conversation. It’s a matter of life…and death.”

“You have my word,” he said softly. Zach knew, instinctively, that what she was about to say would forever change his life. “I think I need a drink for this,” he muttered. He crossed the room to the bar and poured himself a brandy. He turned to Anya. “Would you like a drink?”

“No,” she said, and somehow that one word echoed the sadness, the despair he’d glimpsed in her eyes. He returned to her side, and stood swirling the amber liquid in the iridescent glass as he stared down at her. Anya’s gaze faltered for a moment, then she said, “Haven’t you ever wondered why you never see me drink, Zach? Why you never see me eat?”