Vampire Memories #5 - Ghosts of Memories (20 page)

What about Philip and Wade?
she projected.

No.
Christian answered.
That would be too many conflicting voices. You can explain it to them later. Just stay with me. Just observe.

Then, without any warning, Christian was inside Justin Michaels’ mind, reading his thoughts, digging deep.

Of course, the man’s basic reasons for being here were all on the surface, easy to see, and within seconds, Eleisha knew everything. The story was ugly and sordid. But she was still getting accustomed to being inside Christian’s mind as he read Justin. This method of telepathy was unsettling and exciting at the same time.

“Justin, who is it you are trying to reach?” Christian said aloud.

“My mother… Her name was Irene.” He leaned forward in his chair, and his eyes were intense, almost hostile. Eleisha watched him carefully. He was short for a man, perhaps five feet six inches, with a stocky build. The suit he wore didn’t flatter him. His neck was too thick, and she thought he might look better in more casual clothes.

“I don’t need you to ask her anything.” Justin bit off the words as if they hurt. “I just need you to tell her something for me, and then I want you to tell me
exactly
how she answers. I’ll know if you’re really talking to her.”

Justin didn’t believe Christian could contact his dead mother. Eleisha could see that in his mind—via Christian’s mind—but he was desperate. He was willing to try anything.

“Of course,” Christian answered. “I’m only here to help with whatever you ask me to do.” His voice was so compassionate that Eleisha couldn’t help turning to look at him. From the sympathetic expression on his face, if she didn’t know better, she would have believed he had no agenda here other than to help Justin.

Christian closed his eyes. “Irene Michaels, hear me. Come to me from the other side. Come and speak to your son through Ivory.”

He was silent for a short while, and then he repeated the same phrases. But Eleisha barely heard him. She was seeing images of Irene in Justin’s mind.

“She’s here,” Christian said, opening his eyes, “standing right beside you.”

Justin didn’t look in either direction or make a sound.

“She’s a delicate woman with pale hair,” Christian said, smiling now. “Her features are soft, and she’s wearing peach lipstick and a gray wool suit.” He squinted slightly. “There is a scar running through her left eyebrow.” He paused and spoke directly to the empty space. “How did you get the scar, Irene?”

Staring straight ahead, as if lost in a trance, Ivory answered, “When I was a girl, I tried to put a doll’s dress on our family’s cat.”

Justin gasped and gripped the edge of the table. Thick sinews stood out on the backs of his hands. But Eleisha could see Irene so clearly in his thoughts, along with quick flashes of his memories regarding his mother. She had told him that story about the cat. The physical picture Christian painted was perfect, and he was feeding Ivory answers.

“What is your message, Justin?” he asked.

“Just tell her I’m sorry.”

Christian looked to the empty space beside Justin’s chair. “He says he is sorry.”

Ivory continued staring straight ahead as she spoke. “You should not have put yourself through all this, Justin. You’ve been suffering needlessly, and I have nothing to forgive. You were in love, and you could not have understood that Amy was filled with poison.”

Christian turned to Justin. “Does that mean anything to you?”

Justin sucked in a loud breath. His mouth twitched from pain, and Eleisha was almost overcome by an impulse to put a stop to this. She could see Christian feeding Ivory the exact words he wanted her to say.

But Eleisha and Ivory already both knew what Justin wanted. Through Christian, they could see it and feel it all, turning and churning through his mind.

Justin was from Texas, and his family had made a fortune in oil. He’d had been close to both his parents until he’d fallen obsessively in love with a young woman named Amy Sheriche. His mother was ill, diagnosed with breast cancer, and so he was surprised when she began tiring herself even more by expressing open reservations about the girl. Then, when Justin announced his engagement, his mother had expressed more than reservations. She’d told him to break it off, that Amy served only herself, that Amy didn’t love him, and that she was a gold digger who’d do anything to get what she wanted. The scene had been awful, with Justin shouting back, ending with him walking out and refusing to see his mother again. Three weeks later, she died. When he got the call, he was stunned and blamed himself that he’d not even told her good-bye. But then…

“I’m so sorry for what you had to go through,” Ivory spoke again, “for what you walked in on.”

Justin’s grip on the table tightened, and the hostility returned to his eyes. “What? What does she think I walked in on?”

Christian asked the question aloud.

“You saw Amy in bed with your father,” Ivory answered. “You were right not to go to their wedding, but you have to forgive him now.”

Justin sucked in another loud breath. But his eyes were desperate and far too bright. He leaned over the table toward Christian. “You’re talking to her? You’re really talking to her?”

“Yes.”

Eleisha wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take, and she could feel her hands trembling. Christian gripped down harder on her fingers, and Philip glanced at her and frowned. At this point, neither he nor Wade had much of an idea what was happening.

Justin sobbed once, and he seemed to be trying to get ahold of himself. “Ask her if she really forgives me.”

“Irene,” Christian said, “Justin needs to know if you forgive him.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” Ivory said, still looking straight ahead, seeming lost in the trance. “From the time you were a boy, I always loved your temper. Your spirit. You had no way of knowing I would go so quickly, and you were still hurt by the things I said. But you
must
forgive your father and make peace with him. He is all you have left.”

Eleisha could feel something easing inside of Justin. He’d desperately wanted to forgive his father, to forgive himself, and Christian had made certain he’d heard all the right things. Her hands stopped trembling, and she wondered that if amid this sham, amid the fact that Christian was doing this only for the money, maybe he had helped Justin after all.

“She’s gone now,” Christian said. “We’re alone again.”

Justin slumped forward, weeping silently, and Vera got up, hurrying to his side.

Eleisha disliked deception. But didn’t she use it herself on a regular basis in order to feed? The most unfamiliar thought appeared unbidden in her mind, that this evening had been exciting, and she wondered what it would feel like to sit in Ivory’s place and speak all the right words to someone who needed to hear them.

Christian hadn’t felt such a thrill from a séance in more than a hundred years. The feel of Eleisha inside his thoughts, following the drama of the moment, seeing and feeling everything he controlled and manipulated…well, it brought more than simple pleasure.

She wasn’t like Ivory. She wasn’t a natural-born confidence trickster. She’d been mentally gasping through the entire experience, and she’d made him feel so alive.

He wished they had another client lined up tonight so he could do it all again. But he had a more important task, and it couldn’t wait. He had to strike while the moment was right, and he knew how to play this. He knew what she’d respond to.

So while she was still sitting there, holding his hand, recovering from the shock, he carefully, quietly sent an emotional impulse into her mind.

What would it be like to sit in Ivory’s chair? What would it be like to help others by speaking all the right words and telling them exactly what they need to hear? Wouldn’t that be exciting? Satisfying?

Her eyes flickered for an instant, and he could see the impulse take hold.

But he also hadn’t missed the way Wade had been casting glances all night at Ivory, and he was hoping to stir up a little discontent in Eleisha’s trio, anything that might cause her to turn to him for help or advice.

Casually, he turned to Wade, summoned an impulse, and sent it.

You’d do anything for Ivory. Anything she asks.

Wade blinked, and Christian wanted to smile. He wasn’t quite certain how he could use this yet, but he had a few ideas, and at least the impulse was in place.

chapter ten

B
y the time Vera was getting Justin into his coat and walking him toward the front door, Wade decided he wanted
out
of the small “séance” room, and he headed into the living room to stand by the fireplace—trying to ignore the large painted carousel tiger.

Without anyone saying a word, he had a pretty good idea of what had just happened around that table. Several times, he’d been tempted to start reading minds himself, but he was afraid of interfering and throwing Christian and Ivory off their game.

He hadn’t known precisely what he expected, but he’d not expected the outcome to be so emotional. Christian and Ivory had made that young man cry.

To make matters worse, Wade wasn’t even sure they’d done anything wrong. They might have helped him.

But still, it just all seemed like such a lie.

He was no longer sure how he felt about bringing Christian back to the church and exposing Rose and Maxim to his company. And what about Ivory? He knew nothing about her besides the fact that she was beautiful and that she seemed to do whatever Christian wanted.

That wasn’t much to go on.

The fire crackled and popped, and he glanced back into the sitting room to see Christian standing by the table, still holding Eleisha’s hand and whispering what appeared to be comforting words into her ear. Philip was standing behind them staring daggers, and Wade almost wished he hadn’t paid any attention to the news story about the “spiritualist” back at the church. He almost wished he’d just let this one go.

But then Ivory broke away from the group at the table, and she began walking toward him.

He watched her coming all the way across the living room, and she stopped beside him.

“Quite a show,” he said.

“That was the third one in the third consecutive night,” she said softly. “I’m tired.”

Something in her voice sounded different now. This was the first time he felt she might really be trying to talk to him.

“Do you want to go upstairs and rest?” he asked. “Have some time to yourself?”

Her eyes flew to his face as if she was surprised by his concern. Then she glanced around the claustrophobic room. “What I really want is to get out of here for a few hours. I’m hungry, and I need to hunt. Anywhere. I don’t care where we go.”

He wasn’t certain what she was asking him, so he stayed quiet another moment, and she said, “If I go upstairs and change my clothes, will you meet me in the garage? We can take a car and go out for a while. Don’t tell anyone. They’ll just think we’ve gone upstairs to our rooms. If you tell Eleisha, she might tell Christian, and he won’t let…” She trailed off.

Every alarm in Wade’s mind screamed that this was a bad idea. If he took a car from Vera’s garage and took Ivory out hunting without telling anyone, there would be repercussions from without and from within.

For one, Julian was out there somewhere.

But he had his gun, and he knew how to avoid the shadows, and just looking down into Ivory’s face, he knew he wasn’t going to say no.

“I’ll meet you in the garage,” he said quietly, and he called out more loudly, “Eleisha, I’m going upstairs.”

A half hour later, Philip was alone with Eleisha in their guest room, and he watched her struggle out of the silk evening gown as quickly as she could, as if she couldn’t wait to get the thing off.

But he couldn’t even bring himself to talk. He’d never felt quite like this before—or at least not to this degree. He didn’t even know what he felt, and he hated it. It was the worst feeling he could imagine. It was worse than fear. It was worse than being alone for years on end.

It started when he’d opened the door to Christian’s bedroom, expecting to find it empty, and he’d seen Eleisha in that dress, with her hair styled and her eyes painted, and she was holding Christian’s hand, reading his memories.

It grew worse after the séance while he watched Christian whispering in her ear.

It was the worst feeling he’d ever suffered, and he wanted it to go away.

She laid the dress on the bed and looked over at him. The only thing she wore now was a small pair of panties…and the jeweled clip in her hair.

“Are you all right?” she asked. She looked almost sorry for him, and the last thing he wanted was her pity.

He couldn’t answer her. He didn’t know how. A part of him couldn’t help feeling that somehow she’d done something wrong, but she hadn’t.

In three strides, he reached the bed and grasped the back of her head. Her bones always felt so light in his hands that he was careful when he touched her, but now he jerked her forward against his chest.

“Philip!”

He barely heard her and brought his mouth down to hers, pushing his tongue between her teeth. Then he leaned forward, lowering her rapidly onto the bed and moving with her until she was pinned beneath him.

He took his mouth off hers long enough to say, “Turn on your gift.”

But he was vaguely aware of her struggling beneath him, and over the roar in his ears, he heard her trying to speak.

“Not like this…You’re too heavy. Philip, stop.”

He froze.

She sounded frightened.

He slid off her partially, removing most of his weight, but he turned on his gift. He wanted her to want him back, not to be afraid of him.

“Shhhhhh,” he said. “Turn on your gift.”

He let his gift wash over her and through her, and slowly, she began to relax and brought her hand up to his chest. He was addicted to her touch. He was addicted to her gift.

His gift was an aura of attraction, but he’d never considered it as strong as hers. He didn’t force his mouth onto hers again, but let her kiss him this time, softly, the way she always did. He closed his eyes, running his hands down her sides, over her hips.