Enchantment & Bridge of Dreams (12 page)

Kacey managed a vague answer, staring blindly at the landscape hurtling past. There was a time when she would have said that being the very best at her job was the most important thing in her life.

But now she would have traded all her skill, all her experience, to have Nicholas here beside her, safe and sound.

“You're very fond of him, aren't you?”

Kacey dropped her head, brushing furtively at her eyes.
Fond?
The word didn't even begin to describe her feelings for Nicholas Draycott.

The driver nodded. “Not that I'm surprised. Quite a few people hereabout feel that way about Viscount Draycott. With his wealth, he can do a great deal of good for the area.” Abruptly the inspector's voice hardened. “Unfortunately, not everyone feels the same way that you do.”

Kacey's eyes fixed blindly on the window as the road dipped and twisted past thatched, timber-framed cottages and grand estates hidden behind stone fences.

The young inspector drove quickly and efficiently, just the way he did everything, she imagined. In fact, he drove rather too fast for comfort, but then he must know these narrow roads well. Out of the corner of her eye, Kacey saw the inspector's partner click open a lighter.

Dear God, he wasn't going to smoke! She would be sick, she knew it! Quickly she leaned forward and rolled down her window.

A little better.

Breathing deeply, she watched the earth flatten and empty, trees gone now, houses too. The ground stretched away to right and left, myriad rich shades of green. Here and there was a nearly black tangle of gorse, orange-blossomed now in summer.

But all Kacey
really
saw was the image of Nicholas's pale face, his body shattered and unmoving.

Somewhere in the distance came the glint of water. The channel, she thought. To the west rose the treeless slopes of the Seven Sisters, their white cliffs bared to the ceaseless hammering of the sea far below.

The road was empty now, and they began to pick up speed. On and on the man in front smoked until the car was thick with fumes and Kacey felt her stomach lurch.

They slowed at a small intersection, and Kacey noticed a point jutting out into the channel. But that had to be Beachy Head! And that meant they were going west, while Hastings lay to the east.

“Excuse me, inspector but—haven't you made a mistake? This
is
the road to Eastbourne, isn't it? Hastings would be the other way, surely.”

The inspector's clear blue eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. He nodded briskly. “Quite right. This road loops about though, and with less traffic we'll make better time.”

Kacey managed a faint smile, feeling rather foolish.

“You know the area then, Miss Mallory?”

“Not really. I took the bus from Hastings on the way to the abbey, though, and I remember the route.” Her voice trailed away and she found herself blinking back tears. How long ago that all seemed—how different she had been then.

A tear slipped down Kacey's cheek, and then another.
Oh, Nicholas, hold on!

It was a moment or two before the sound penetrated her consciousness—very soft, like a sigh.

A sound she'd heard before…

Her eyes narrowed. She sat up straighter.

Then the realization slammed into her like a fist. Her heart began to pound. Dear God, she hadn't even asked for any identification. They hadn't let her tell Marston that she was leaving…

“Did you…” Kacey swallowed, trying to steady her voice. “Was Nicholas's wound better when you saw him?”

“Wound?” The blond brow framed in the rearview mirror slanted up.

“On his cheek. He fell when the power was off last night. It was quite a bad cut.”

“Ah.” The driver nodded thoughtfully. “No, there didn't seem to be any bleeding.” His tone was faintly apologetic. “I can't say for certain, though, since the bandage was still in place.”

Through the wild hammering of her blood, Kacey managed to smile naturally and nod. Dear God, it was true then. Nicholas had no wound on his cheek, of course, or any bandage. If these men had seen him, as they claimed, they would surely have known that.

Again came that faint hiss of air…

Now Kacey knew without any doubt that the man in the front seat was her unknown caller of yesterday!

Her fingers locked in her lap. At least they didn't know she'd
found them out—not yet.
Think, Katharine Chelsea—think!
If they didn't have Nicholas, then where was he? And what would he want her to do?

Escape.

The word simply dropped into her mind, then hung there, resonating faintly.

Kacey blinked. And how exactly am I supposed to do that?

She didn't realize she'd asked the silent question until an answer flashed back to her.

There's a door right beside you, my dear,
the voice said dryly.
I suggest you use it.

Only he didn't speak in words, of course. He communicated in quick bursts of meaning, in bold, concrete pictures.

And the speaker was most certainly a
he.
She could feel the dark force of him most clearly.

Adrian? she queried.

None other. But you must make haste.

That's easy for you to say, Adrian Draycott! You're a ghost—you can walk through walls! came Kacey's angry, silent answer.

Static ripped through her thoughts for a moment, and then the voice in her mind returned, needle-sharp this time.
Now, Katharine! Before they realize you've seen through their desperate little masquerade. Get out of there!

Still wearing a crooked smile, Kacey moved her fingers down in search of the door handle. They were going about forty miles an hour, she estimated—enough to do quite a bit of damage to whatever part of her anatomy hit first. At least she was on the left side of the car, which meant she would land on grass rather than pavement.

For a long, breathless moment, she fought down wild laughter.

And then, with a gasp, she yanked open the door and dove from the Mini.

The ground exploded toward her, a swirl of green, and she heard the driver shout. “She's bolted, damn it! Stop her!”

Dimly, Kacey heard the shrill scream of braking tires. An instant later her vision filled with shards of light and then went blank as the darkness claimed her.

She heard a shrill whine. Her head felt huge and heavy. Savage hammering split her left temple.

What…

And then Kacey heard the dim scream of grinding gears.

Run, Katharine! Cross the fields to your left, toward the cliffs.

Kacey brushed a shaky hand across her temple and frowned to see it covered with blood. She must have hit her head on a rock when she'd jumped from the car.

Now, woman!
the voice broke in, harshly this time.

Wincing with pain, Kacey stumbled to her feet and began to weave toward the distant slash of silver, where the cliffs turned to chalk below the green turf of the downs.

Nicholas? she queried wildly.

Unharmed. But he'll need time.

Kacey no longer even wondered at this strange, wordless form of communication. In fact, all she heard was the first word. It burned through her with a rich glow, giving her the strength to plunge ahead.

Good girl! That's it, steady on—now to the left.

Abruptly the voice receded, as if Adrian had moved away.

Kacey fought down a feeling of fear at the sudden severing of their unspoken contact. Not human contact, she could accept that now, but contact with someone who had once been very dear to her.

Gasping, she ran over the flat green earth, her eyes fixed on the distant azure glint of the channel.

And then she heard a low growl, felt the ground begin to vibrate. Still running, she turned her head and saw the blue Mini swerve sharply and head off the road onto the grass.

Coming directly toward her.

Adrian! What do I d-do now?

No answer.

Kacey swept her hair from her eyes, fighting the razor-sharp pain in her head. Something slipped into her eye, blinding her, and she brushed it away roughly.

Sticky. More blood…

Just like
that
night, when she'd run away toward the village, unable to bear the pain of being caught in the middle any longer.

Kacey shuddered as the growling behind her grew louder. She heard the muffled thump of tires and the metallic creak of the car frame protesting as the Mini took bump after bump far too fast.

It came to her then, with total, blinding clarity. She'd never make it. She could never hope to outrun the car, not on this flat downland, without trees or any place of concealment.

Adrian's warning had come in vain after all.

A wave of despair slammed into her, black and suffocating. It was not for herself that she grieved, but for the love severed fragile and newborn, like a green shoot trampled just as it pushed free of the earth.

“No!” Her wild, angry cry split the air. She had to think—there must be something she could do! Time, that's what Adrian had whispered to her.

And then she saw it—a narrow, gorse-fringed basin dotted with boulders at its lowest point.

Enough gorse to slow a car. Enough stones to savage the car's underbody and perhaps even destroy the engine floor. And if she circled around gradually, the basin would be totally invisible from above, until one was almost upon it…

Kacey's breath was coming ragged in her ears when she shifted course. Behind her, the motor droned louder.

“Stop, you fool. You can't hope to outrun us!”

Sheet-white, she closed her mind to the angry shouts. It must
be the other man, the smoker. The man who had phoned the abbey yesterday expecting to reach Draycott with his warning.

Oh, Nicholas—hurry!

Her throat was raw and her knees shaking as she stumbled down the slope toward the basin, calculating the remaining distance. Twenty-five feet, with luck. Maybe a little more.

Behind her, she heard the man curse. A second later a bullet whined past her head, and she ducked reflexively.

Dear God, not a gun too!

Fifteen. Twelve.

Her heart felt like it would explode from her chest.

Ten. Nine. Eight.

And then the roar was beside her. From the corner of her eye, Kacey saw a door swing open. They meant to ram her!

Somehow, at the last second, she managed to dodge and stumble to her knees, then right herself drunkenly. A moment later she felt the sharp arms of the gorse spear her ankles. Just in time she jumped across and dropped out of sight, flat against the ground.

A stream of curses ripped the air. An instant later the Mini came sailing over her head, tires spinning uselessly, engine whining, only to land with an explosive crash atop the rugged line of boulders at the center of the green crater.

Without a backward look, Kacey pushed to her feet and lurched back up the incline, away from the muffled shouts, a silent prayer fixed in her head.

She had just cleared the gorse when she heard a shrill crack. White-hot metal bored through her shoulder. Gripping her forearm, she tried to fight back tears.

Adrian…where in the name of heaven are you? Now would be…nice…very nice…

She swayed, closing her eyes to the tears and pain, feeling hysteria weave its seductive web around her. She caught back wild laughter. Asking help from a ghost, no less!

When her tear-streaked eyes opened, she saw a gray shape dart over the slope, moving downhill.

Kacey squinted in disbelief. “G-Gideon?”

But the cat was gone, no more than a slash of gray as he surged down the hill out of sight. From the hollow came angry curses, grunts, and the whine of spinning wheels.

Go, Katharine. Head east!
The voice took her by surprise.

She stumbled to the left. Adrian?

No, east, to the right. That's it—steady now, love.

Her hair tossing wildly about her face, Kacey did as the voice bade her, too tired to wonder at his return, too tired now to think of anything but escape.

Panting, she wobbled up the incline, trying to focus on the cloud-dappled earth stretching flat to Eastbourne and beyond that rising sharply to the ruined battlements of Hastings.

Her eyes glazed with tears, Kacey didn't see the dark shape at first. Only gradually did the shadow resolve into an oval, then into a horse with flying feet—and a rider.