Chapter 19
I woke to the sound of scratching.
Exhausted, I kept my eyes closed, rolled over onto my back, and pulled the comforter tighter around my body. Unfortunately, it didn’t keep the frigid cold air from creeping under the blankets.
I know what that cold meant. I had a visitor, and I had a feeling I knew who it was.
With heart pumping like crazy, I slowly opened my eyes and I wish I hadn’t. Laria stared down at me, her dark eyes piercing, and her smile malicious.
My breath lodged in my throat.
“You wanted to know about witches and ghosts…and now you will.” Her voice was low, eerie, a sound that terrified me as much as the circumstances I now found myself in. “Tell me, is it as wonderful as you imagined, or have you had enough?”
What the hell was she talking about?
Her head tilted in that odd, unnatural way that made my skin crawl. I knew she did it to freak me out and it was working, but I didn’t let on. At least I hope she couldn’t see behind my false bravado…that was slipping by the second.
“But you do, and you should know better than to get involved in matters that are none of your business.” She lifted her hand, flicked her fingers, and I was abruptly jerked from my bed and sliding across the floor. I couldn’t stop—not by putting out my feet or hands. I was like a puppet on a string, and her laughter vibrated in my ears as I hit the wall with a bang.
It was a horrible sensation—like being in concrete and having no power over your own limbs.
Several more movements of her hands and I was sliding up the wall, my back stuck to the wall like I was a magnet on a refrigerator door.
Who knew a ghost could have such power; physical power—the power to do real harm.
My feet left the floor and I slid higher and higher. If I fell from this height, it would hurt. I might even snap a bone or two, including my neck. Maybe that was her intention all along—to kill me.
Laria watched me with an amused smile, and although I tried my best to hide my fear, it was impossible. I could hear my heart hammer in my ears, and no doubt she could too.
“Leave me alone, Laria.”
“I can’t hear you,” she sang in an eerie disembodied voice.
I tried to pull away from the wall, but it was no use. She lifted her hands and I slid further up the wall until I was on the ceiling, my hair hanging down around me.
Unable to look at her, I closed my eyes and thought one word.
Ian.
I bit my lip to keep from screaming as I slid across the ceiling. When I finally hit the opposite wall, I tweaked my hand hard. I didn’t have time to think about the pain though, because I started sliding across the ceiling again, this time barely missing the light fixture. I could feel the heat of it though.
I considered yelling out, but Shane was spending the night with Richie, and Miss Akin slept in the guest room at the opposite end of the house with her fan on high. White noise put her to sleep, and kept her asleep, she had commented more than once. She would never hear me. Plus, I didn’t want to give Laria the satisfaction.
“Riley, open your eyes,” she said, her voice coming from nearby—as though she was right next to me.
I didn’t want to open my eyes to see if she was beside me, hanging upside down. That’s one image I wouldn’t be able to get out of my head.
I felt an icy hand on my shoulder, sliding up toward my neck. “Open your eyes,” she whispered, her breath cold in my ear.
Ian, I need your help.
I began to move again, and this time I was thrust hard against the far wall, and then I began sliding downward, face first. My hair touched the floor, and I put my hands out in case she dropped me on my head, but a second later I was sliding back up the wall, toward the ceiling again. I felt the cool draft from the window and wondered for a horrifying moment if she’d thrust me out the window and hurdling to my death.
I thought of the books I’d read about the paranormal, hoping to recall any of the books that might help me. Suddenly a phrase popped into my head. “You have no power over me,” I said with conviction.
“Do you think words or stones can stop me?” she said, sarcasm lacing her voice. “You are a fool if you think so. You are facing someone with a power far greater than your own. You will never be able to control me. Forget Ian MacKinnon. Ignore him—and all will return to normal.”
Forget Ian? I would rather die.
She must have read my thoughts because I was suddenly dragged along the ceiling once more, close to the light. I felt the heat near my thigh, burning the skin.
I clenched my teeth against the pain.
Then I heard a screech, and I was falling into strong arms.
I opened my eyes and looked into a familiar face.
Ian. He had come to my rescue.
He set me down on the bed. “Are you alright? Did she harm you?” he asked, looking me over, his gaze frantic.
I shook my head, unable to say anything. I’d never been so terrified in all my life. I’d just received proof that the dead could harm the living. I scanned the room. She was gone—and the heaviness had left with her.
His eyes were full of concern as his hands brushed over my legs and arms, checking for himself that I was okay.
“She won’t hurt you any more, Riley. I won’t allow it.”
I forced a smile and rested my head against his shoulder. He lay down beside me, holding me close and I wondered how long he would stay this time. I hated that our time together was always so short.
“Try to sleep,” he whispered, his fingers grazing my jaw.
“You always say that when you come to my room,” I said turning off the light and settling into his arms.
· · · · ·
When I awoke, the clock radio read 4:23. Ian still held me and I turned in his arms, happy he was still with me. His eyes were open and he smiled softly as I burrowed closer.
I reached under his shirt, feeling the hard muscles of his back beneath my hand. I knew I was being aggressive, but I didn’t care. I also knew the danger to my heart in taking our relationship further, and yet I kept wondering what would happen if I died tomorrow, which was a very real possibility given Laria’s vendetta against me now that I was helping Ian.
The truth was that I ached to explore his body. I wanted to be with him, Ian, this ghost I trusted more than anyone else. I kissed his neck, his ear, his jaw. My hand wandered to his wide chest, and down over the sculpted muscles of his abdomen.
His hand rested on my hip, his long fingers drawing upward along my side. He cupped my breast through the material of my shirt and bra, and my breath caught in my throat.
I felt his hesitation only for an instant, before he rolled and covered my body with his, taking his weight on his elbows as he stared down at me. Every inch of his body was pressed against mine.
His long, silky hair tickled my collar bones. He had never looked so beautiful to me as he did in that moment, his eyes heavy-lidded in a way that had me aching to discover everything that could happen between a man and a woman.
I touched his strong jaw, my thumb brushing along his lower lip. He pressed his face into my hand, placing a kiss against my palm.
“Riley, what are we doing?” he asked, his voice silky soft.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
He closed his eyes for a few seconds, took a deep breath and rolled off me, onto his back, resting his hands against his forehead. “We cannot do this, Riley. It’s dangerous.”
I went up on an elbow. “I don’t care if this is all we have. I’d regret it more if we didn’t do anything.”
He glanced at me, and I could see the desire in his eyes. My pulse skittered with the realization that he wanted me as badly as I wanted him.
“I want to be with you, Ian,” I blurted before I could stop myself.
He swallowed hard. “I want you too, Riley.”
His words eased my fears, but I could still see the indecision he was feeling
in his expression.
“Then what are you so afraid of?” I asked, terrified of the answer.
He reached up, cupped my face with his large hands and said, “I’m afraid of not being able to leave you when the time comes.”