Dark Daze (14 page)

She let out a long breath. Her heart calmed,
and she ran a hand over his hair. “I love you, Ian, and nothing
will take it from me.”

Please let that be true.

Brie rested a hand against his rough
whiskered cheek, trying to memorize his face. To force every curve,
every line, every single inch into some place inside her where this
thing couldn’t reach. To hide a small piece of her feelings where
they would survive even the breaking of the spell. She wanted to do
whatever she must to keep this man with her forever. But could they
really be happy, if it meant the entire world had to pay for
it?

<><><>

The twinge in Brie’s mind shocked her awake
and with almost no warning, she flipped.

Andrea unlocked her front door, hoping for a
nice meal while she finished the book. Her i-com rang. She hurried
inside, dropped her identification card and the bag on the table,
and jerked the i-com from her pocket.

“
Hello?”

“
Hello? Andrea Borne?”

“
This is she. What can I do for
you?”

The deep male voice hesitated before
continuing in a melancholy tone, “You received an advanced reader
copy of the latest Kingsley novel, right?”

The man on the other end of the i-com sounded
familiar, but she couldn’t place the voice.

“
Who’s this?” she asked.

The caller remained silent on the other end.
She peeked at the ID box. Unknown. Did the man want to steal her
signed first edition? It must happen, at least sometimes. She
waited for his response for what felt to her like minutes before he
finally spoke again, in a low annoyed tone this time.

“
Last month, when you won the advanced
copy, you agreed to read it, didn’t you? But you haven’t even
finished it yet, have you?” He spoke faster, his voice
rising.

“
It came late—”

“
You’ve had it for three days. You agreed
to read it quickly and write the first review for the fan site. You
agreed to this, didn’t you?”

“
Well, I-”

“
You’re next.” He cut her words off before
she could finish.

“
What?” She flinched.

“
Finish the book! Tonight!”

The i-com clicked and went dead. She looked
at it, stunned by the man’s rudeness and hostility. Was he someone
from the fan club? She nearly ordered the call to the club so she
could complain about his terrible manners, but she had agreed to
finish the book early and turn in a review before the book’s
release. Since the novel had already been released, she owed them
their review. She would read the rest tonight and turn in the
review tomorrow, first thing.

Brie’s consciousness slammed back into her
body, and she twisted in Ian’s embrace. She shook him. He groaned
and opened one eye, then pulled her closer, his body hard against
her.

“I don’t want to hear anything about anything
until I’ve had my morning Brie.” He chuckled and nipped at her
neck.

“But Ian, I—” She broke off with a gasp when
his teeth grazed the sensitive spot beneath her ear.

She couldn’t begrudge him wanting to spend
what could be their last moments together in bed. If they really
were living the book as Andrea read it, then tonight it would all
be over, for good or bad. They would win, or the evil would destroy
them, and even if they won, they might not love each other
afterward.

All they had was this moment. This moment and
each other.

He stared down at her, his eyes darkening.
She’d never before experienced the things this man made her feel.
She bit her lip. It hadn’t taken intuition for her to know he was
special. She hoped she made him feel the same way.

She spread her legs, holding her arms out to
him. His smile fled, and he came over her. She grabbed at his back,
needing his skin against hers. Lips pressed to his neck, she
whispered, “Love me. Make the world go away. Even if only for a few
minutes.”

Ian entered her, slow and steady. She didn’t
fight the tears as she ran her palms over his chest and neck,
pausing where his quickened pulse beat in his throat. His gaze met
hers and held it, lifting his thumb to wipe at the rivulet. He
thrust into her, stoking the low-burning ember of her desire. She
leaned up and kissed him. His mouth lifted in a soft smile. His
expression was so gentle and sweet. If only she could hold that
smile in her heart forever.

Brie fell back on the bed, arms dropping to
the pillow to each side of her head. He leaned forward onto his
elbows and laced his fingers with hers. The heat of his gaze
ignited the ember and passion roared to life inside her. He held
her hands and moved inside her, staring into her eyes. Into her
soul.

She undulated, a languid arching in time with
him. His lips met hers in a gentle kiss. He didn’t try to deepen
it, just stroked his lips over hers. The birds outside the window
sang sweeter, and the morning light looked brighter than it had
when she’d come out of her flip.

She increased her pace as the flame inside
her built into a bonfire. His chest heaved and his movements came
harder, faster. Blissful heat and electricity tingled through her,
and she shuddered as it exploded inside her. She shook and arched,
trying to draw him further into her. He let out a low moan and
stiffened. He rubbed his nose against hers then pressed a soft kiss
to her lips. In that moment, Brie wished she could stop time and
just exist with him.

Ian rolled over, drawing her into his
embrace. She rested her head on his shoulder, the world intruding,
inch by inch, into their paradise. How could she tell him what
she’d seen? Her chest hollowed at the center. How could she ruin
this moment?

He broke the silence. “You saw something,
didn’t you?”

She tried to hold onto the bliss, but the
void in her chest swallowed it, regurgitating more numbness inside
her. “It ends tonight.”

“What do you mean?” Ian rolled on his side,
propping his head on his palm. “What happened this morning? It took
you a while to relax and get into things.”

“I flipped when I woke. I ended up in the
woman again.” Brie sat up, folding her legs beneath her. “I think
she’s the catalyst. She reads the chapters, and we experience
things. That’s why you don’t always see the creature. When she
doesn’t read, we are on our own, so to speak.”

“Seriously? You mean some woman is reading us
to death?” His smile faded when she didn’t return it. “You’re
serious, aren’t you?”

“Someone called her and told her to finish by
tonight, and she intends to. It means we’ll experience chapters
nine and on to the end tonight. We have to be prepared for what’s
going to come, fast and hard. Today.”

Brie clasped her trembling hands and focused,
trying to call on the tingling intuition. The fear in her heart
made it impossible to focus—let it take her over. Ian sat across
from her peering waitress to waitress as though they would announce
themselves to be the right one should he meet their eye. She
wondered if they had any hope of finding the right one, with her
gift on the fritz.

She couldn’t get past thinking this would be
the end if she used her intuition. That they would find the girl,
and in turn the author, and then they would no longer have each
other. Their love would vanish like the stars at dawn.

She leaned in. “We’re in the right café. I
can feel it, but even if it is the right café, the waitress could
be off today. Or she could have quit a long time ago.”

“The descriptions of Dean and Brittany in
Cold Terror
match the way we look. Hopefully the woman in
Night Stalker
will look like her character too.”

“Only if our suspicions are correct.” She
lowered her voice to a whisper. “It doesn’t seem real. People don’t
live suspense novels, and books don’t write themselves.”

“Insane and illogical, yes,” he said, his
palm covering her clasped hands, “but it’s happening. I doubted it
for too long, and you see the damage it has done as well as I do.
We have to try to stop it.”

Ian was right. It was obvious he was right.
It didn’t make it any easier though. He stared at another waitress
while she passed, then, when she didn’t respond, he shoved a hand
through his hair.

“I feel like we’re chasing geese here. We
should have started by linking the author’s address.”

Brie shook her head. “No, we never could have
found his address through the mobile link, and if we did, what
would we say? Excuse me sir.” She lowered her voice in a mock
formal tone, and it made him smile. She’d do anything to make him
smile. “I’m taking a poll for the census. Did you get in a fight
with Ian Connor and put some sort of voodoo curse on him and then
write about it in your latest book?”

Ian wiggled his fingers between her clasped
hands and squeezed. “It’ll be okay.
We’ll
be okay.”

A small blond waitress stepped from the back,
her short hair pinned into a little bun. She fit the physical
description in the book. She walked to the table and pulled a pen
from behind her ear.

 ”What can I get you?” She glanced at
the door to the back room where the kitchen stood, hidden by a
swinging door. Brie and Ian ordered coffees, and the woman moved to
the kitchen watching the front door.

“It could be her. Plus, the girl in the book
is Sherrie, and her name is Shawna. It could be her.” The
excitement sounded in his tone and wrote itself across his face. He
was the faithful PI who must solve the case, and she, his girl
Friday. Her heart lurched.

He smiled at her and leaned across the table
for a kiss. Then he frowned.

“You’re amazing in every way, Brie. I’m
dumbfounded. Even in this dire situation, you still stop me with
your beauty. I expected to be peeking over my shoulder for the
claws and eyes constantly. To be haunted every step of the way.
From our very first i-com link, you weren’t what I expected.” He
shook his head, his eyes soft. “None of your actions or responses
were predictable. I think it’s what I like most about you. You’re
perfect, quirks and all.”

She blinked rapidly, swallowing hard.

“She looks like her too,” her voice was
thick, even to her own ears. “And the way she keeps watching the
door—”

“It’s going to be okay.” He brought her hands
to his lips. “It’s all right.”

The girl returned carrying their coffee and
set it on the table. Brie closed her eyes.

“Ready to order?”

Ian smiled in his most charming way. “Can we
speak to you for a moment?”

The waitress gaped at the two of them as
though they had just asked for a knife to stab her.

“Hey, mister,” she said, “I’m a waitress. I’m
here to bring you food and that’s all. I’m not going to talk to the
press. Now, can I take your order, or are you leaving?”

He’d overplayed his hand. Brie cringed, but
she knew they had to continue, even if it meant scaring her
off.

“Listen, I think I may know who your stalker
was. I know you stabbed him and left him by the ocean. I also know
they never found the body, and I know why.”

Brie bit her lip as he swung his hammer of
words. Droplets of sweat broke out on the waitress’s forehead and
upper lip.

“Who are you?” She started to fidget, right
foot to left, as though she were about to sprint off.

Brie had to do something to stop her before
she really did run. “We think we’re being stalked by the same
person, and we need some answers, or he’ll just keep on hurting
people.”

The words seemed to break through the woman’s
terror. She stopped fidgeting, and her gaze flew from Ian to Brie.
Her stiff shoulders relaxed, but only an inch. She obviously still
feared the stalker.

“Okay, I have a break coming up in about
fifteen minutes. I’ll talk to you then, but with one stipulation.
We have to stay in the restaurant, and as soon as we’re done, you
leave and never come back.”

Her voice had lowered to a whisper but they
understood perfectly. She worried they were endangering her by
coming and wanted them to leave; the sooner, the better.

Fifteen minutes later, Shawna sat at their
table with a cup of coffee and a nervous stare.

“Have you ever met Donald Kingsley? He writes
suspense novels.”

Shawna squinted, seeming a bit confused and
annoyed. Her leg shook convulsively, and she glanced at the door
once again.

“Yeah, I met him when he came in here for
lunch. He’s not my stalker, if that’s what you’re going to tell
me.”

The defiance in her voice told Brie, either
the woman was in love, or she thought him incapable of anything so
terrible.

“We need you to answer our questions. Then we
can tell you who stalked you,” Brie said.