Vision in Faith (Legends of the North Book 3) (11 page)

He smacked her on the arse. "Sounds like I'd better feed you first." Grabbing a pair of boxer briefs, he dragged one of his T-shirts out of the drawer and threw it at her before finding another for himself.

Following him downstairs, she leaned against the kitchen counter as James moved around, pulling bacon and eggs out of the fridge. "Can I help you with anything?"

He gave her a heated look over his shoulder before grinning. "You can do the toast if you like."

Vicky nodded and grabbed the loaf from the bread bin. They worked well together, moving around each other with ease. James's hand grazed her hip, her arm, and he brushed his lips against hers as he finished serving up. They sat together, eating quietly until James laughed.

"What?"

"It's just… I bet you never thought you'd find yourself having breakfast cooked by an
Altenbury
in the kitchen of an Altenbury."

She pursed her lips then twisted them into a half smile as she shook her head. "You're right. I can just imagine your mother's face now if she saw me sitting here."

James's face turned serious and she regretted the comment. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I know how much your family means to you. I feel the same about my parents."

James's face softened at her words. "They do mean a lot to me, but that doesn't mean my mother can do as she pleases. Being an Altenbury, the legacy of the name, it brings a lot with it. I'm fine with that. It's never bothered me the way it did Matt. I enjoy running the family businesses, and being a part of the villagers' lives is a privilege. But my private life is my choice, and my mother needs to remember that and stop trying to marry me off to her idea of the ideal daughter-in-law."
 

He shook his head as though trying to rid himself of an unwanted memory. "Tell me about your family. What are they like?"

Vicky's smile spread across her face as she thought about her parents. "They met at school and started dating straight away. My dad was her first boyfriend. They married young so they could start a family. That was all my mum wanted."

Her smile faltered and she searched out the heart charm on her bracelet. "My mum wanted a whole brood of kids, but they gave up hope after years of trying and nothing happened. She almost lost faith, but then I came along. Their gift from God," she said, her lips twisting.

"Both of your parents are religious?"

He sounded intrigued more than anything, and Vicky nodded. "Yes, they are. I went to Sunday school and everything, but when I was old enough, I told my mum it wasn't for me. I knew she was disappointed, but she never forced it."

She dropped her gaze to her empty plate. She placed her cutlery across it, wiped her mouth with the napkin, and then scrunched it up in her lap. Lifting her gaze back to James's, she quietly admitted to him what she had confessed to her mother.

"When I'd… after the vision, I spoke to my mum about her hearing God… I mean, God speaking to her. I thought maybe they were God's way of speaking to me." She laughed softly.

James stared at her for a long moment, and she began to feel uncomfortable. She thought that maybe she shouldn't have said anything to him. He pushed back from the breakfast bar and crouched in front of her, dropping a hand on each thigh and squeezing.

"I can't believe nobody thought of that."

Vicky gazed down into his icy blue eyes, which looked anything but cold. He pushed up so he could brush his lips against hers then dropped back down to a squat in front of her.
 

"What? You think God is talking to us?"

James rubbed his hands up and down her thighs. "Matt said it the other day. Every vision is associated with a Roman god or goddess. What if they're trying to communicate with us through the visions?"

Vicky didn't answer. What was there to say? She didn't believe in God or goddesses or whatever he wanted to call them. Instead, she bit her lip and waited for James to carry on.

"Your last vision was about me being attacked and a snake. Snakes are linked to Apollo." He let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.
 

Vicky leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. "We'll figure it out," she said against them.

Then James pushed her back against the chair, deepening the kiss, and she forgot about visions and God. All she could feel were James's warm lips on hers, his strong hands holding her, and his manly scent surrounding her.

She gave in to the force that was James and let everything else go, for that moment.

Chapter 12

Monday morning, standing in the middle of what was supposed to be her salon, Vicky felt a little lost. Having spent the whole weekend with James, she felt—if she were honest—lonely. She shook her head at the thought. It was ridiculous. One night in James's bed and she couldn't function without him?

She snorted because she was not that girl. But he was that boy. She dropped her head in her hands. What had she been thinking?
Oh, that's right. I wasn't.
Turning to stare out the window at the street, she watched as someone passed by.
 

He was still an Altenbury, no matter how different he was to his mother.
His mother.
She could still see the look of disgust on her face, as though Vicky were something she had trodden on, and it had hurt.
 

Because Vicky didn't understand why. She'd never done anything, didn't even know his mother. If just the thought of her wanting to rent a shop got that reaction, she could only imagine the hatred Mrs. Altenbury would have aimed at her if she found out he was sleeping with Vicky.

What happened between them was a one-off. They couldn't repeat it.
This
was her dream. This was what she'd spent so long working towards. She'd scrimped and saved to get her salon by her own two hands, and no one would take that away from her, least of all James's mother.

Resting her butt on the windowsill, she leaned against the window, surrounded by the empty, rundown shop. After the revelations before her weekend romp, she wondered if there was any point to carrying on getting the place ready. Would she even get the chance to open it?
 

Giving herself a shake, she told herself that Matt and Emma were still there. As were Rob and Jess. They'd lived through the attacks, had fought and survived it. If she had to, she would do the same.

Picking up a paintbrush, she dipped it in the paint. Spending her day off from Margaret's salon to get her own place ready was the only thing she should be doing.

Hours later, exhausted, she looked around the room and was pleased with the progress she'd made. Placing the remnants of her supper in the trash, she switched off the light and trudged up the stairs.
 

Teazle was already asleep on her bed and didn't stir as she headed for the bathroom. Gently climbing into bed, she pulled the covers over her shoulder. Her thoughts, without permission, turned to James as she drifted off.

The sounds of a musical instrument drifted towards her. It sounded like a harp but not as deep, and she could hear the plucking of strings as she turned to follow the melody.

It was coming from the man who was sitting on a tree stump. He had long, brown curly hair and full red lips that looked fake. The wooden instrument was resting against his thigh; it looked like a small harp.

 
A cheer rose from behind him, and the crowds parted to reveal a man striding through them. His head turned from side to side, saying something to them then nodding. A wreath wrapped around his head made him seem like royalty.
 

As he strode across the field, his clothes changed, his hair became shorter and darker. Reaching out as she realised it was James, she tried to call out to him, but he couldn't hear her.
 

The crowds vanished and James was standing outside Altenbury Hall. Crying out, she tried to run to him, but she couldn't move. Her legs were tied to a tree, the bindings snaking their way up until only her arms were free from them.

The river was rising, splashing against the walls of the hall, rising around James. But he didn't move, didn't seem to notice as the water crept higher. She screamed as it reached his shoulders, and then he disappeared beneath its depths.

She cried out again, clawing at the ropes holding her back. Pulling at them, she realised Teazle was licking her face. She was only tangled in the sheets, which were clinging to her skin and as soaking wet as she was.

 
Her eyes adjusted to the dim light of her bedroom, she pulled herself free from the covers as racking sobs tore from her throat.
 

James. Why hadn't he done something? He'd just…
She covered her mouth with her hand, biting down on her lip. It was like he'd just accepted that he was going to die. That it was inevitable and pointless to try to fight.

Dragging herself from the bed, she switched on the shower, telling herself over and over through her chattering teeth that it wasn't real.
 

She let the pelt of the warm water hit her neck, the steam wrapping around her, cocooning her from the real world. She stood under the water until she stopped shivering, her breathing slowing.
 

Resting her head against the shower wall, she stood for another moment wondering what it had all meant. She had recognised the figure she'd seen rising from the river, had heard it described often enough as a child.

 
Turning the shower off as the water ran cold, she wrapped herself in a towel. Making her way back to her bedroom, she picked up her phone from her bedside table. It was only ten p.m.

 
Pulling on some warm clothes, she wondered what to do. She understood James might not even be at home, but the need to see him, touch him, to reassure herself he was indeed fine was overwhelming.
Sod it, the worst he can do is think I'm crazy.
But he wouldn't. He'd been there after her other vision. He'd understand; she knew he would.

She ran down the stairs, Teazle at her heels, clearly sensing she was in a rush. She clipped the lead on Teazle's collar, not wanting to leave her alone, and knowing James wouldn't mind. Grabbing the heavy torch from the back room after pulling on her sneakers, she opened the front door and walked out into the street.

The quiet seemed to surround her, trying to press her back inside as she stared up at the black sky, with only a few stars twinkling. Her breath fanned out in front of her, leading the way, and she hurried off in the direction of James.

***

James sat in front of the dying fire, Scotch glass dangling from his hand over the arm of the chair. Even though it had only been that weekend, the place felt strange now without Vicky there. He felt it, deep in his chest. Couldn't explain it, but something was coming, something he needed to protect them all from.

Which he couldn't very well do if he was caught up in Vicky instead of figuring out how to stop this.
But what a distraction.
His lips lifted slightly at the sides of his mouth as images of a naked Vicky flashed through his mind.
Enough.
He should've been working out how to keep his family safe, not allowing his mind to wallow in the gutter.

The hiss of the log as a flame leaped to life made him jump in the quiet of the room. He drained the contents of his glass then pushed himself up from the chair and towards the liquor cabinet. Decanter in hand, he stopped with it halfway to the glass and the liquid sloshed out onto the cabinet top.
 

There.
He'd definitely heard it that time. Quietly, he replaced the decanter and crept over to the wall. Sliding his way along it, he peeked out the window. He blinked, and then rubbed his fingers over his eyes because he hadn't thought he'd had that much to drink.

When he opened his eyes though, it was staring straight at him through the window. He was looking right into its soulless, empty red eyes. The next thing he knew, he was shielding himself behind his arms as glass flew around him.
 

He heard what sounded like the screech of a bird before something soft wrapped around his whole body as hands clutched around his throat. He gasped for air, but couldn't even put up a fight as the smell of smoke choked him. The last thing he saw was hundreds of eyes staring scornfully down at him.

***

Vicky froze at the sound of breaking glass and what sounded like the call of a bird. Teazle let out a low, rumbling growl before launching herself forward towards James's house. The lead tugged against her hand, and she let go of it, staring at the dog as she ran off barking furiously. Vicky started out of her stupor and ran after Teazle.

God, please let him be okay.
As she rounded the corner of the cottage, the sight of the beast rising from the river in her vision had her sliding to a halt. She couldn't do anything but stare as Teazle launched herself at it, only to be batted away with its tail. She heard the tiny dog's pained cry, felt it in her chest. Then it turned her way.

Good God. It looked like her every nightmare raised from the depths of Hell. Its unblinking red eyes bore into hers as though trying to see into her very soul. As she stared, frozen, its face changed before her eyes from that of an eagle to what vaguely resembled a man.
 

Its eyes were sunken; they looked like black holes beneath the jutting bone that stuck out where his eyebrows should have been. Hollow cheekbones sat above a gaping mouth that revealed glints of long, narrow teeth when the light spilling through the window caught them.

Two large wings lifted from behind it, revealing a smaller pair beneath that looked like a cross between wings and hands. She gasped as the wings blinked at her, hundreds of eyes staring back at her, and goosebumps broke out over her arms and legs. Its tail coiled from the ground, rising behind its head, and its pointed end aimed straight at her.

She was mesmerised as it floated off the ground with the beat of its wings and made its way towards her. She felt faint, a burning sensation filling her chest before she realised she'd been holding her breath. Dragging in a breath, it tasted of smoke and came out as a sob when she saw James lying at its feet, immobile.