Mystical Love (15 page)

Adrian gave a busted laugh.

“Insights! You saw her leave. She'd rather take her chances with a ghost than to stay in the same room with me.”

Muriel gave his forearm a pat.

“Yes, well, as a Don Juan, you have about as much finesse as a sloth on Librium.”

Adrian threw his head back, a genuine laugh spilling over. Muriel was a priceless pearl. She had coined a phrase out of his own barbed wit. Touched by her warm support, Adrian reached out and gave her an exuberant hug.

“You're so like my foster father. I could never fool him for a minute either.”

She was obviously pleased by his words and squeezed his arm affectionately.

“There must've been a wonderful little boy inside you once, Adrian. What happened to him?”

“He got lost somewhere … like a bead from a broken string.” The admission was dredged from somewhere beyond logic and reason, and Adrian was astonished at the sense of fulfillment he felt in admitting it. A gentle caress raked his forearm and when he turned, Muriel's eyes were filled with compassion. Before she could speak, he pocketed the compass and hopped from the table. “Too drained to explain further,” he supplied as he made for the door. “Let's find Janice. I'm feeling uneasy all of a sudden.”

In two steps, they were at his side, ready to help in his search. Adrian signaled Muriel out first and she went quickly. About to follow, Adrian was halted by a clamp on his wrist. Instantly, his mind collided with Jasper's and he heard the question as clearly as if it had been spoken between them.

“What really happened between you and Janice when the glass shattered at dinner?”

For a second, he thought of evading the question, then realized the futility of it. If Jasper really wanted to, he could find the answer by simply diving deeper into Adrian's mind. But it wasn't his style, Adrian realized. He didn't intrude where he wasn't invited. Their eyes met as the two exchanged a pact.

“A mind meld. A memory. An image of rough, raw lovemaking … ” he said aloud, then paused, aware that Muriel had returned and was staring at him curiously. “I don't know what it was,” he finished lamely.

Jasper released his wrist, nodding with a hesitant shrug.

“Are you afraid the vision you saw is about to happen with Janice?”

“Worse. I'm afraid it's
not
going to happen.”

His candid reply shocked both of them, but he didn't wait around to see the look on their faces. Instead, he whipped past and strode down the corridor. A short moment later, he heard their footsteps tapping on the oak floor behind him.

Reaching an intersection, Adrian signaled the Grisombs.

“The main staircase is just beyond there. I'm going to circle back through the wing and pick up Janice.”

“You're sure she's back there?” Jasper asked with a tilt of his lips.

“Yes, because she's blind as a bat without her compass.” Seeing Muriel's mouth open, Adrian lifted his hand. “You're right. It was a despicable thing to do, letting her leave without it. I'll apologize as soon as I see her.”

He gave the pair no chance to cast any further slurs on his character and strode back the way they had come. Now, if only Janice would be as kind to him when he finally found her.

SATURDAY — 1:35 AM

Staring down the expanse of a dimly lit assembly hall, Janice held back a childish desire to stamp her foot. Curse her rotten luck! She was right back where she had started from and more lost than ever. The swords and crossbows hanging like vultures on the crossbeams above her head were the same ones she had passed only minutes ago. Sighing, she finally admitted she had no idea where she was or how far she had come from the library. One thing was for certain though, she was traveling in circles and each minute that passed had her more unsure as to which corridor she should take. Damn her stupid pride! And damn Adrian Magus for not giving her the compass!

Janice swiped at an angry tear forming. He had her compass, the lying swine! She'd stake six months' royalty checks on it. Why hadn't she challenged him in the library to return it to her instead of fleeing like a stupid thief in the night? And why was he refusing to give the compass to her in the first place? He knew she couldn't find her way alone without it. Why was he being such a donkey's ass?

Janice did stamp her foot then, wishing the worst tortures of hell on him. And also on herself. She had let his barbed tongue goad her into leaving the library and it was a childish, foolish thing to do. What had she gained by it? Nothing. He was safe. She was lost.

“He wanted to keep you from wandering the chateau alone. He senses the danger coming.”

Janice stiffened, hearing the voice in her head as clearly as if someone had spoken it aloud. Damn it all to hell, go away, she commanded the voice. It drifted away at once, leaving her to notice a tangy aroma permeating the air.

“Raspberries,” she muttered beneath her breath. The word sent a sudden suspicious chill up her spine and tossing her head, she ventured a tentative question to the air. “Lisette?”

No response came and Janice stifled a chuckle. If her sense of humor hadn't suddenly skipped town, her penchant for talking to ghosts that weren't there would be hysterically funny. After all, hadn't she promised Captain Bowers only this afternoon she wouldn't spook any ghosts while here? So much for keeping that promise.

She cast a hasty glance left and right, swallowing the thick knot that was suddenly forming in her throat. She had to get out of here any way she could. Any door she could. Her gaze scoured the massive white pillars nearby and she shivered. Should she go back that way? Yes, she had to find Lloyd, Adrian, anybody real. If she didn't, she'd run into an insane panic.

Squaring her shoulders, she stepped forward, treading the wood floor as if walking on eggshells. With each step, she forced herself to take deep, calming breaths. Breathe in, breathe out.

Reaching the pillars, a new chill seized Janice, a frozen, frightened thing in her heart and, unnerved, she whirled. In the distance, she heard footsteps drumming on wood. Her hand fluttered to her heart as it began to thump wildly against her ribcage. Dear God, could ghosts produce human footsteps? No way, she cautioned, ghosts were spirit, nothing more. It was Adrian or the Grisombs coming to fetch her.

A single tear formed in the corner of her right eye as she peered through the shadows of the room toward its farthest end. Please be someone I know, she prayed fervently. She closed her eyes and listened, catching her breath as the footsteps paused, then suddenly resumed, moving away from her. They were leaving her!

Panicking, Janice tore down the hall toward the receding footsteps and a blot of minuscule light emanating beyond the doorway. Halfway there, she skidded to a halt as a shadow loomed up in the doorway. Adrian. It was Adrian. Bless him. He really didn't hate her as much as he implied.

Janice picked up her pace again, clamping her lips to imprison a sob of relief. She didn't care how much he insulted her from here on out. She had never been so glad to see anyone in her life.

He stepped into the room, spying her speeding figure and Janice slowed her steps, realizing how stupid she must look to him.
No need to rush,
she berated herself,
you're safe at last.
Her heart slowed its wild thumping, calmed by her confident words. She could see Adrian's face clearly as he neared and it cheered her. In a few steps, she would be touching him, touching his ruffled shirt to prove he was real, not just a hysterical delusion her panicked mind manufactured.

Halting inches from him, Janice lifted her gaze to his face. She thought she saw a pensive shimmer in the shadow of his eyes and had an unexpected, disturbing desire all at once to flee back the way she had come. In the next instant, he greeted her, his voice thick and unsteady.

“Hallo, Izzy, ma petite fleur.” Janice froze, stunned by the greeting. Izzy? Who was Izzy! A hand came out to stroke her hair and she drew back from the touch. “Non, cherie, do not shrink from the touch of my hand on your hair. Vous êtes toujours avec moi quoi que nous avons toujours partie.” The dark eyes clung to hers and Janice's breath caught in her throat. Was that tenderness in Adrian's expression and voice? And why the devil was he calling her Izzy and speaking French? And then it hit her. Izzy — Lisette! This wasn't Adrian at all. In a suffocated whisper, she quizzed.

“Aubert?”

“Oui, mon amie.”

He spoke again, his voice almost a caress. He reached out and this time Janice let his hand brush a stray tendril of hair from her neck. “Do you know what a prized beauty you are? Your hair a tribute to rubies? For three centuries, I have hungered to see you, to feel the melting softness of your body.” His hand smoothed her hair, moved on to her cheekbone.

Janice held her breath, hypnotized by the invisible warmth of his touch. His knuckles caressed the line of her cheekbone and he was looking at her face as if he were photographing it for all time. Janice's heart suddenly swelled with a feeling she thought long dead. Not since Jimmy had she felt so consumed by naked desire.

Before her stood, not Adrian, but Baron Aubert Dumas. And he believed her to be Lisette, was seeking Lisette.

“Never touched, always touching.” His husky murmur cut into Janice's thoughts, accelerating her pulse. His hand slipped to the nape of her neck and pulled her toward him. “For three centuries I have hungered to feel your lips on mine.” He was going to kiss her, Janice sensed, unlock his heart and soul to her. The idea sent her spirits soaring, her knees trembling, and the blood pounding in her ears. “Embrassez moi. Come kiss me, Izzy.” His voice was sensually seductive as he lowered his head and his uneven breathing teased her cheek. She felt tears smarting behind her eyes and he saw them. His own gleamed more fiercely. “You have nothing to fear from me, cherie. I am your salvation.” His head dipped lower, his lips hovering inches from hers. Janice's pulse skittered in alarm as his head blocked out all light.

“Adrian!” she called, scarcely aware she had called his name.

As if struck by a spasm, the lips halted their journey. Janice watched the eyes darken in pain, reflect glimmers of light, adjust, then regard her with a speculative stare.

“Was I about to kiss you?”

The question was crisp and clear, with a hint of sarcasm, and Janice knew the baron had vanished, letting Adrian's consciousness take over again. Suddenly tongue-tied, Janice managed a suffocated whisper.

“No,
you
weren't. Baron Dumas was.”

Adrian's eyes narrowed suspiciously and he lifted his head away from her. Taking a step back, he stared at her in waiting silence. Janice could see her answer had rattled him and for a long moment, they merely looked at one another curiously. And then his eyes grew openly amused.

“I get it. You're doing this to get back at me — for what I said to you in the library.”

Floored by such a ludicrous suggestion, Janice laughed.

“No, I'm not. The baron was here. You were him. He was you. Using you to talk to me … ” she corrected herself instantly, “to talk to Lisette.”

Adrian threw up a hand, cutting off her words. With his free hand, he fished into his shirt lining and came up with her compass. He held it out to her, offering an apology.

“All right, I admit I'm an insensitive jerk. I should've given it to you. I don't know why I didn't. Take it.”

Janice hesitated, seeing suddenly for the first time how much like a recalcitrant child he was. As if he had been caught with his hand in a cookie jar and now he needed to make excuses for being caught.

“You didn't give it to me, Adrian, because you didn't want me wandering the chateau alone,” Janice stated. “There's danger ahead.” His shocked expression told her she had hit the mark. She pressed her point. “I'm not lying to you, Adrian. The baron was here. The baron was you. He's seeking Lisette.”

Janice made him the victim of her stare and she could see her words took him beyond merely rattled to completely unnerved. Recovering quickly, he pushed the compass toward her and chided lightly.

“Take the god-dammed compass and let's get the hell back to the others.”

Janice nodded, taking her prize. Immediately, she felt a thrumming in the middle of her palm and a wave of grayness washed over her. In her head, she heard a blood-curdling scream that rose severely in pitch and soon clamored in her throat to get out. Her body suddenly jerked as if struck by lightning.

“Janice!”

The call came from a distance but she couldn't center on it. The voice was worried, asking if she was all right. No, she wasn't all right. She was drowning. Someone was pushing her mind aside, pushing her consciousness down into a black vortex.

Disoriented, Janice threw her hands out, fumbling blindly to latch on to Adrian's shirt front. She heard a dull clink and wondered what it was. Down, down. She was being swept away. Down to darkness. Down to emptiness. Down to nothingness.

Finally, she hit bottom and floated aimlessly.

SATURDAY — 1:40 AM

For a second, no more, Adrian froze. He heard a dull clink as Janice's compass hit the floor. Thinking fast, he reached out and caught her light frame as it slammed into his chest. For a second he thought they were both going down, but miraculously, his knees locked and held, allowing him to secure her weight. Quickly and carefully, he sank to one knee, using his raised thigh as a cushion for her back. He tapped her cheekbone.

“Janice!”

Her eyelids remained closed and Adrian felt a wrenching, jagged lurch in the pit of his stomach. She was out like a light. Now what? In his ears, he heard a thunderous pounding like horses' hooves and realized the sound was his racing heart. Blood was sliding through his veins like cold needles and he was scared by Janice's blank expression and seemingly non-existent breathing.