9781618850607ForeverNightDayNC (3 page)

* * * *

The war.
That
’
s
when his life changed, and Augustine
LaMount
ceased
to be.

He
wasn
’
t a bad man.

His
fate had been sealed when he
’
d tried to run away. He became a deserter during the
war, fearing it was better to leave than to fight, to end up slaughtered like
so many of his fellow comrades engaged in battle on the front line.

He
ran through the forest looking for cover and a place to hide before they
spotted him.

Surrounded
in darkness, he could hear the fighting raging on. Bombs were being dropped,
the sky flashing with light as they exploded.

He
stumbled, and hit his shin on what he thought was a rock.

“
Here.” It was a woman
’
s voice. She emerged from behind a large tree, her
hand held out to him, beckoning him to follow her. “I can offer you shelter,”
she explained, as they moved deeper into the woods. “They won
’
t find you all the way out here. I promise.”

He
was more than willing to do anything not to have to go back.
Maribeth
and the children needed him. His place was with
them. He said nothing and only nodded.

They
emerged in a clearing, and ahead he spotted what looked like a small log hewn
cabin.

The
woman pointed toward it. “In there before they spot you.”

The
thought that they might be following him terrified him. He nodded again, and
they both ran toward the lone, rustic refuge.

“
You live here?” he asked, stepping inside. It looked
like it
hadn
’
t been inhabited in a long time. Cobwebs and layers of
dust coated everything in his vicinity. When the fireplace suddenly burst with
flames, he jumped with surprise.

She
faced away from him, her shoulders slouched forward, her head down. “I have
lived here for a very long time,” she explained.

Something
wasn
’
t right, and his mind screamed for him to run, to
leave this place. His feet, however, had frozen steadfastly in place.

When
she turned, he noticed her pale skin and glowing green eyes.

“
What are you?” he asked. All other words failed him.

“
I
’
m a woman who lives alone in this cabin in the
forest.” A wry grin crossed her lips. She mocked him.

He
shook his head in disgust. “You
’
re no woman.” When she stepped toward him, one hand
shot up in an attempt to keep her away from his person. “Stay away. Don
’
t come any closer,” he warned.

She
laughed, tossing her head back to reveal a sharp row of teeth like he
’
d never seen before.

“
Jesus,” he muttered.

“
He
isn
’
t here,” she snapped, grabbing his arm. “Pray if you
like, but I don
’
t think he will hear you. God
doesn
’
t answer anyone
’
s prayers here. Not for the likes of me.”

She
smelled of roses, death, and of the mossy woods surrounding the cabin. He tried
to recoil from her, but to no avail. He felt like a fly trapped in a spider
’
s web.

She
leaned in close to him, her cool breath caressing his ear. “I
’
ve
waited so long for you…for anyone to venture into these woods. Most know
better, they stay out of this stretch of wilderness. They
’
ve
heard the stories about me, the legend. They stay away. But it
’
s lonely here. How am I to occupy myself?” She pouted.

He
said nothing.

“
You will stay. You have no choice, and all will be
well again.”

“
I
—
I have a wife and family,” he stammered. “They need
me. I need them.”

“
I need you,” she snapped, cutting him off. In a flash
she was on him. They tumbled together to the floor in a heap.

Pain
tore through him, and then his world went dark. He was dying.

When
he awoke, he realized he was no longer in the cabin. He was home.

“
Maribeth
?”
called Augustine, sliding from the bed.
“
Maribeth
?”
Joy flooded him at being home again. Whatever happened in those woods now felt
like a bad dream.

He
stepped into the hallway, and walked into each room before heading downstairs,
calling her name.
Maribeth
.

The
house was empty. Dust covers lay over the furniture. Where had they gone?

He
headed back to the front door and opened it.
Blackness
.
He stared into the void in disbelief. Beyond the door there was nothing. He
slammed the door and headed to the back of the house, racing through the
kitchen to try the back door. It was the same. Augustine ran up the stairs.
There had to be a way out.
A window?

Back
in the bedroom, he tried each one. They revealed the same nothingness once they
were opened.
Trapped!

Chapter
Three

It
was all so silly. She was losing her mind. That was the easiest explanation.
Carrie Ann kept telling herself that none of it was real. And by nightfall, she
felt much calmer.

At
ten she climbed into bed, again half drunk on wine that she
’
d continued to drink well past dinner.

When
eleven rolled around, she turned off the bedside lamp with every intention of
sleeping.

At
twelve, she heard a noise. Her ears perked up, and through the darkness she
spotted a tall figure standing at the end of her bed. Carrie Ann tried to
scream. She opened her mouth and sucked in, but nothing came out.

The
room was cold. Goose bumps prickled her skin, and her hair felt as if it was
standing on end. The figure moved toward her. He was
real.

“
Don
’
t be afraid.” His voice soothed her instantly as he
spoke. She felt better, more relaxed.

“
Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?” she
asked, her voice low, still shaking a little.

“
Your house?”
He looked amused. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hands folded in his lap
just like in the painting downstairs over the fireplace. But it
couldn
’
t be the man from the portrait. “This is my house, and
has been for a very long time.” He reached out and traced one cold finger
across her cheek. “I
’
m real. Touch me. Feel me.”

She
tried but
couldn
’
t bring herself to do it. But when he took her hand
and guided it to his face, she let him.

“
Come to me, my darling,” he said. “I have waited so
long for you to come back to me. This is your place. You belong here with me.”

Confusion
clouded her mind. He was so handsome and bewitching. She sat up straighter in
bed, and curled her arms around him in a tight embrace.

His
hand held her waist. He pulled back just a little to give her the slightest
smile. “You
’
re
trembling. You have no reason to fear me. No harm will ever come to you. I
’
ve
been waiting for you…wanting you.”

She
nodded. “Yes.” She wanted him too.

“
Perhaps a kiss will remedy your uneasiness?”

She
opened to him, her lips seeking his as they found hers. She touched him,
slipping her hands beneath his white cotton shirt. Her fingers connected with
firm muscle.

In
a blurred flash of movement he was on top of her. His hands cupped her breasts
as her chest heaved up and down, her nipples hard and erect. He manipulated
them. “Oh God,” she said, her tone begging for more. A hand slid between her
legs, and in less than a second, they connected. She wanted him, badly.

“
Nice. Very nice,” he said, his lips tracing across her
neck, his fingers toying with her pussy. “It
’
s been far, far too long.”

He
was naked. How and when, she
didn
’
t know. He ground against her hip, his cock erect,
skin against skin.

Carrie
Ann spread her legs wider. She needed him inside her, fucking her. She needed
this…ghost of a man. But he was real. The pleasure he was giving her was real.
And as he kissed her, she tasted him upon her lips, and inhaled his musky,
masculine scent.

Her
head spun with hot passionate desire. “Fuck me,” she demanded. “I want you
inside me now.” She was taken aback by her own spoken words, caught up in the
moment where all that mattered was this mysterious, dark lover about to fuck
her.

He
moved inside her. His cock spread her slick lips causing her to tighten around
his shaft. She held him, milking his hot cock.

“
So tight and warm,” he said. His voice was low, and smooth
like velvet. He caressed her face, his fingers running across her forehead
settling into her hair.
“Luscious and perfect, my darling.”

Deep
within her groin, Carrie Ann felt the pressure build. It was only a matter of
minutes before she
’
d explode around him. With every thrust, he hit her hot spot.

They
moved together as one, limbs entwined,
their
bodies
dancing together. Heat, flames, desire and mystery, that and more carried her
into the open arms of unabashed ecstasy.

“
My love, my wife,” he said, flooding her just as she
felt her orgasm sluice through her.

Wife?
Maribeth
?

Then
she felt his teeth and that pain again. She opened her mouth to scream pushing
at him, her fingernails tearing into him.

He
pulled back, away from her neck and she smelled that hot metallic scent of
blood, her blood. “
Maribeth
, don
’
t fight it. Now we
’
ll
be together forever. Not even death will separate us.”

Carrie
Ann laid in the dark for a long time, not moving or breathing.

Augustine
winced with guilt at what he
’
d done. But there was no other way. It had to happen
like this.

She
had known nothing when she
’
d first arrived at the house. How could she? Yet she
was drawn to the house because of him.

She
was
Maribeth
, or the essence of
Maribeth
—
the soul as most would call it.

He
loved her so much. He craved her. He
couldn
’
t be without her. Now she was his, forever. She would
stay with him and dwell within these walls, until the end of time. End of
story.

* * * *

She
loved him. She knew she should not, but she did.

Everything
made sense now
—
the
way she felt about the house and how she had connected with him through the
portrait, and even that first time she had felt his presence.

The
house had a history and now she was part of it. This was their home.

Carrie
Ann looked out the window from their bedroom. Augustine
’
s arms held her close to him. “They
’
ll
come,” he whispered, as they both watched Mrs. Bonnie place another
“
For Sale
”
sign on the gate leading up to the house.

She
felt
Maribeth
inside her. That was their connection.

“
What will happen?” she asked. “What will happen when
more of them come?”

“
Most won
’
t stay. And if they do, we can make them go away. It
isn
’
t that hard to do.” He grinned, and squeezed her. “Don
’
t worry about anything. You are safe here with me.
Nothing in this world can harm us anymore.
”