Annette Blair (18 page)

“Right. Hence the name. What are you
doing
?” He was feeling up the wall, making Kira wish his hands were all over her that way.

“There
has
to be an entry to the hidden staircase somewhere,” he said.

“Good point. But I thought you said it must be in the center of the house. That’s an outside wall.”

“We can’t afford to overlook anything. Come here, start beside me, and go that way. I’ll go the other way,” Jason said, “and we’ll meet in the middle.”

Kira winked. “Meet you in the middle.”

They separated, him shaking his head.

Halfway there, she turned and screamed.

“What?” Jason said, coming over.

Kira shook her head. “A woman.”

“It’s a dress form.”

“For a minute, I could have sworn it was a woman with dark hair wearing a long, black dress from years ago. It—
she
 . . . lurched in my direction, as if . . . in need, desperate need, of my help.”

“It’s a dress form. Have you had enough to eat today?”

“Why?” she said. “Afraid I’ll take a bite out of you?”

“I should be so lucky.”

Kira swiped the hair from her eyes. “What did you say?”

“I said, you’re lucky she didn’t have a crow on her shoulder.”

“Who?”

“The lady who needed your help.”

“You think it was Addie, don’t you?”

“No,
you
think it was Addie. I think it’s a dress form. Back to work.”

Three hours later they had tested every wall, floor, panel, bookshelf, hearth, mantel, closet, and cubby in the place, Kira thought, and, still, no hidden staircase. “That’s it,” she said. “We’re done. “This house doesn’t have a hidden staircase. The Deerings were right.”

“They never looked for one; they simply never stumbled across one.”

“I know, but she cleans this place and he’s done all the yard and repair work, for what, twenty years? You’d think if there was a hidden staircase, one of them would have stumbled across it at some point in time.”

Jason firmed his lips as they neared the stairs that led to the aviary. “You know where we didn’t look?”

“We didn’t miss an inch. Give up. The story of the fake haunting was fiction and that’s how we’ll have to play it.”

Jason shook his head. “We didn’t check the walls inside the aviary.”

“You’re joking.”

Jason motioned for her to precede him up the stairs, and Kira went despite herself. “Those birds are not happy,” she said. “They hear us coming and they know, they
know,
we’re going to invade their space. I don’t like it. We’re gonna get pecked to death.”

Jason chuckled and tugged on her hair from behind. “We might get crapped on, but I don’t think their peckers are big enough to kill us.”

“YOU’LL
be sorry,” Kira warned as Jason undid the latch on a birdcage bigger than her bedroom.

Jason went in anyway, despite the ballistic birds, and despite her warning, but when he dragged her in, against her better judgment, the birds calmed down.

The flirty black winking crow said, “Hello, Mommy,” again, and took a literal flying leap to land on her shoulder.

Kira yelped in surprise, and the bird on her shoulder laughed like the crow in the cemetery, and though Kira wanted to get it off, she could feel the crow’s claws in her skin, almost like a threat, so she didn’t push it. From her perspective, that beak looked plenty big.

The second black crow had waddled over and stood looking up at her, its head tilted consideringly.

“Geez, they like you,” Jason said.

“Yeah?” she said. “What was your first clue?”

All eight birds were suddenly surrounding her, on perches above and beside her, and on the floor at her feet. The one on her shoulder began running its beak through
her hair, as if combing it, in an affectionate or soothing motion.

Kira did not feel either cherished or soothed.

“I wish I had a camera,” Jason said.

“I’d beat you with it,” Kira said. “I’m kinda freaked, here. You think you could check the walls so we can get the hell out? I’m sorta tied up right now.”

Amused, but biting his lip, the smart man, Jason began a painstaking search of the two walls that made up the cage back and half of one side. A floor-to-ceiling window met the half wall, to give the birds a sense of the outdoors.

“Oh, crap,” Kira said. “One of them is eating my shoe.”

Jason turned and saw that the black crow on the floor was indeed nibbling the flowers on her sandal.

Two black-and-white crows sat at the edge of a perch, one pecking at her sailor-suit collar, the other pulling a loose yarn from her sweater, like a worm from the ground.

When a gray crow flew her way, Kira removed her hand from her hip and clamped it to her side, as if she were afraid it might land there. It settled on a low perch and went for her pocket.

On her right shoulder, the black crow that seemed to have fallen in love with her continued to play with her hair.

Much as Jason tried to hide his amusement, he chuckled. Once.

Kira looked up, eyes narrow. “I am going to kill you.”

“Trust me,” he said. “This is worth dying for. They think you’re a statue, and you know what that means.”

“Dead,” she said. “You are so dead.”

When the other gray abandoned her nest to fly over and settle gently atop Kira’s mat of lush red curls, her shock alone was enough to do Jason in. He lost his breath trying not to laugh. “Relax,” he said, biting his lip. “They won’t hurt you.”

“I’m getting my wand,” Kira said, stamping her foot, knocking the shoe-munching bird on its tail. “You’re toast, Goddard!”

Jason couldn’t fight his laughter any longer. He lost his breath trying, tripped on a bird, and fell against a wall that groaned, heaved, and gave . . . then he was tumbling, ass over head, down a real rabbit hole.

This was gonna hurt, he thought during the free fall.

Jason opened his eyes on a grin when he heard Kira tell a crow to shove its beak where the sun don’t shine.

He had ended sitting on a landing, at the base of the stairs, where it was cold, dark, and damp, a wall at his back, and one at each elbow. The dim cubicle, as square as the stairs before him were wide, harbored cobwebs, spiders, and dry dead bugs, draped, caught, and sprinkled everywhere.

He’d found the hidden stairwell.

He swiped a web from his face as Kira called his name, but he didn’t have enough breath yet to answer. The next thing he knew, she was running down the stairs.

When she got there, she knelt before him, and as she did, a chill draft encircled them, like an invisible rope tying them to a tree, before it rushed up the stairs, caught the door at the top, and slammed it shut.

“Shit,” Kira said. “Shit.” She ran back up. “There’s no handle.” She tried prying at the edges of the door with her fingernails. “I can’t get it open. Shit, I broke a nail.”

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Geez!” Kira said on a shriek.

“What? You broke two?”

“The birds are trying to get us out. The space between the bottom of the door and the top stair isn’t big enough for my fingers to slip beneath, but I can feel the tips of their beaks in the crack. Can you hear them? They’re shrieking like scared old women.”

Jason stood, rolled his shoulders, and flexed his bad knee, which took the fall pretty well, considering.

The rising sound of fluttering wings near his ear made him duck. It sounded like a bird was dive-bombing his head. “Son of a—”

Kira ran back down. “What? Are you hurt?”

“More or less. Did you hear that bird? I think one of the crows got in.”

“Very funny.” Her fearful darting gaze denied her statement.

“No, really, I heard a bird fly by my ear, and I thought—I suppose it could have been a bat.”

Kira ducked, squeaked, and stepped into his arms, which was fine by him. “Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked, stroking his brow. “You hit your head, didn’t you?”

He slipped an arm around her waist, as much to steady himself as to cop a feel. “My bruises have bruises.”

She ran her hands over his arms and he stood there, hoping for more, but she quit too soon.

“I’m okay,” he said. “Honestly.”

“Your knee?”

“I came down pretty much on my backside.”

“So you’re okay?”

“Pretty much.”

“Good, now I can kill you.”

“Before you do, I don’t suppose you could wiggle your wand, say something sexy, and get us out of here?”

She went for her man-drooper like the fastest gun in the East. Jason covered Harvey with his hands. “Never mind!” he said. “Geez. Ask for one little favor.”

“I’m pissed at you for laughing at me.”

“I apologize, sincerely.”

“You should.”

He thought about how funny she looked and bit his lip to keep from making a fatal mistake. He regarded the stairs and the sealed door at the top and tried to look needy.

Kira sighed in resignation. “The best I can think of is to try and make someone miss us.”

“Thank you, yes, please. I’ll kiss your feet.”

“Kiss my ass, and we’ve got a deal.”

“Yes! Deal.”

“Shut up and let me think.”

Jason shut up, but the fantasy lingered.

Kira tapped her chin with her wand for a few thoughtful minutes as she examined every facet of the stairwell, including the door at the top of the stairs.

The she swirled her wand upward and began her chant.

“Not at work, not at play.

Wonder why we went away.

Find the birds,

Hear their song.

Enter where you don’t belong.

Look here, look there.

Find us in the hidden stair.”

She nodded and slipped her wand back into her pocket.

“That’s it?” Jason said.

“What? It’s not good enough? You want I should turn you into a beetle so you can crawl under the door?”

“Those birds eat beetles.”

“Yeah, I pretty much knew that.”

“Sometimes you scare me.”

“You’re a smart man, Jason Goddard.”

“We have to get out of here.”

“I’m with you on that one.”

Jason palmed the three walls at the base of the staircase, but he could find no opening. “No exit here,” he said.

“No fooling, Sherlock.”

“I’m surprised there’s any light in here at all.” He looked for the source and saw a window about fifty feet up. “Damn,” he said. “I saw that window from outside. It’s on a center peaked dormer.”

“I’m so relieved,” Kira said, swiping at cobwebs, “that we know where we are!”

“Are you being sarcastic?” he asked.

“Not at all,” she snapped. “But watch my mouth, because an ugly creature with slimy teeth is gonna come out and eat your head!”

Jason coughed, sensing this was not a good time to reveal amusement. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing!” she snapped again, then she shoved the top of her head into his face. “Do I have bird poop in my hair?”

He snickered, and she whipped out her wand and held it to his crotch. “One more sound, and your pecker’s a tootsie roll.”

“My pecker’s a steel rod,” Jason said, “and it’s your fault. I have never been trapped, amused, and turned on, all at the same time. Please tell me this counts as a rabbit hole.”

Kira trailed a finger down to his belt and traced the design in his buckle. “Where nothing is as it seems?”

“Yeah,” he said. “An amazing anything-goes dream we’ll both forget.”

As if channeling her fury into desire, Kira about knocked him over trying to climb him. Her wand clattered to the floor as he caught her by the ass and lifted her high against him. Her legs clamped around him like vises, turning his pecker into one big, happy camper . . . looking for a place to park.

With her clinging like a monkey, he turned and sat them on the bottom stair, her straddling him, the way she’d damned near done the other night in her apartment. If only there were as few pieces of clothing between them now.

She rode an erection she’d pretty much stirred to life the first time he saw her. Funny how he’d worried all this time that she would destroy Harvey, when frankly, nobody had made him quite so happy in years.

Of course, the fact that he’d been celibate since his accident might have something to do with Harvey’s anticipation.

“I can’t think of anyplace I’d rather be than in a rabbit hole with you,” he said against her hair. “I hope my nuzzling your ear doesn’t remind you of the crow, by the way.”

She smacked the heel of her hand against his shoulder.
“I’m never gonna forgive you for laughing,” she said, rocking against him, contradicting her ire, causing some incredible big-time friction and Harvey happy-dancing.

“I can tell,” Jason said. “So what would it take,” he asked, “to make you forgive me?”

“You can let me have my wicked way with you,” she said, pushing his suit jacket off his shoulders and going for the buttons on his shirt.

Jason tugged the corkscrew curl over her left eye and watched it spring back. “Have at me, Glinda. Your wish is my command.”

“Kiss me,” she said.

Jason’s head fell forward. He met her brow with his, and sighed. “How about you put your wand where I can see it.”