The Witch of Stonecliff (21 page)

She took him with slow, deep pulls that drove him half out of his mind. Her eyes closed, lips parted, breasts bouncing teasingly close to his mouth. He leaned forward, caught one tight nipple between his lips and sucked.

She gasped, fingers tangling in his hair, her pace faltering slightly, but she found her rhythm again—even while he sucked and nipped at one breast then moved to the other.

Her breath came faster, ragged. Her body trembled on the brink. He slid his thumb between her folds, found her nub and stroked. She cried out, tightening around his cock. He couldn’t hold back any longer. Grasping her hips, he drove himself hard and fast, until he exploded, emptying himself inside her.

Once spent, he sank back into the cushion. Eleri collapsed against his chest. He held her tight, her ragged breath mingling with his while he stroked the delicate curve of her back.

“You know,” she said, sitting up with a wry smile. “I was trying to persuade you to leave tomorrow. I don’t think I was very convincing.”

He smirked, his heavy eyes at half-mast. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Her delicate brows drew together and she smoothed her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, all traces of humor vanishing. She trailed a finger along his scar. The nerves beneath were so damaged he could feel little more than faint pressure, but still he stiffened.

Eleri pulled her hand back. “Does it hurt?”

He shook his head. “Feels strange, though.”

Her fathomless gaze dropped to his neck. “The whole time we were at Barber’s, all I could think about was how far the farm was from The Devil’s Eye. How easily you could have died.” She dipped her head, mouth pressing warm and soft to his throat. “You should get away from here while you can.”

He shivered and wrapped his arms tighter around her. “I’m not leaving you.”

* * *

A relentless banging dragged Eleri up through layers of sleep. Whatever that noise was, she wished it would stop. She wasn’t quite awake yet, teetering between consciousness and oblivion. With Kyle’s bare chest pressed to her back, his arm draped around her waist, it would be so easy to drift off into the warm cocoon wrapped around her.

If only that knocking would stop.

Eleri frowned. Someone was knocking at the door. A chill blew through her, and she sat up rubbing her stinging eyes. Kyle’s arm fell away and he murmured something unintelligible, but didn’t open his eyes.

She grasped his shoulder and shook him. “Wake up. Someone’s at the door.”

It had to be Harding. Kyle’s theory that the detective didn’t have the evidence to arrest her was wrong—Mel Barber’s murder was the final nail in her coffin.

Kyle jerked upright, eyes heavy-lidded. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“The door,” Eleri said again, somehow managing to push the words past the lump thickening in her throat.

“What now?” he muttered, scrubbing both hands down his face. He stood from the bed, dragged on yesterday’s jeans and left the room—presumably to answer the door.

Eleri hurriedly gathered her own clothes scattered across the floor, pulled them on and rushed after him. As she reached the top of the stairs, Brynn’s voice drifted up to her.

“Where is my sister, and what in the hell has been going on around here?”

“I’m here,” she said, and started down the steps. The sight of Brynn standing in the open doorway sent a wave of relief rolling through her. She really had come back, and Eleri wouldn’t be left to deal with Harding and the murders on her own.

Of course, she hadn’t been on her own. She’d had Kyle. He’d stood beside her, believed in her, defended her. Warmth welled in her chest and she tamped down on it as quickly as she could, refusing to let emotion take root. They were partners, maybe even friends, albeit with benefits, but once this business with The Devil’s Eye was done he’d move on. She needed to remember that.

At the bottom of the stairs, Brynn threw her arms around her, and Eleri hugged her sister back. Before Brynn pulled away, she cast a sidelong glance at Kyle and murmured, “We need to talk.”

Reece, standing slightly behind Brynn, smirked and nodded. “Your sweater’s the wrong way round.”

Eleri fingers lifted to her collar and brushed the tag. Backward and inside out, lovely. Her face heated. Brynn’s gaze shifted from Eleri to Kyle dressed in jeans and nothing else. Her frown deepened.

“Let’s go to the kitchen,” Kyle said, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. “You can catch your sister and Conway up on what’s been going on, and I can start the coffee.”

Eleri nodded, but Brynn grasped Eleri’s wrist. “You guys go ahead. We’ll be there in a minute.”

Reece smirked as he followed Kyle down the hall. The minute they were alone, Brynn turned to Eleri.

“Hugh told me you’re staying with the man who wrote those articles about you. That he’s writing a book about what happened at The Devil’s Eye.”

Eleri drew a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. “He’s not writing a book.”

“But he is the man who wrote all those terrible things about you. Are you sleeping with him?”

“He’s different now.” She hated that she sounded like she was making excuses for Kyle. She wasn’t. There was no excuse for what he’d done. But he was different. How could he have gone through all that he had and not be?

“Eleri—”

“Wait.” Eleri cut her sister off. “Just come into the kitchen and we’ll explain everything.”

“Fine. Explain away.”

In the kitchen, Kyle had a pot of coffee brewing and was taking mugs down from the cupboard under Reece’s watchful scowl. Eleri crossed the room to stand beside him, while Brynn dropped into the kitchen chair next to Reece, who was leaning against the counter.

“So,” Brynn said, “what’s going on around here? After everything Hugh told me, I feel like I’ve been gone months instead of weeks.”

Eleri stiffened at the mention of the butler. She could only imagine Warlow’s version of events. She glanced at Kyle.

He shrugged. “Tell them everything.”

So she did, starting with Kyle’s attack and ending with Mel Barber’s murder. For a long moment, no one spoke.

“Since you’ve been here—” Reece broke the silence, narrowed gaze locked on Kyle “—someone tried to kill Eleri and murdered the man who saved you.”

Kyle cleared his throat. “That’s right.”

“Kyle isn’t responsible for the actions of a madman,” Eleri snapped. Who in hell was Reece to sound so sanctimonious? He’d taken a job at Stonecliff to bait her into killing him, all to avoid criminal charges of his own. “The police didn’t believe Kyle about the attack, and if Mr. Barber had told the truth, he might still be alive.”

“Hold on.” Brynn held up her hand like a traffic cop. “Can we go back to the part where someone tried to choke you in your room?”

“I couldn’t see who. It was too dark. When Warlow turned up, there was no sign of him.”

“You’re sure it wasn’t the shadow?” Reece asked.

Kyle’s gaze shot to the other man’s face, and a small sense of vindication flared inside her.
See, I’m not crazy. They’ve seen it, too
.

She shook her head. “I scratched at his hands to try to make him let go. He was alive.”

“And Harding did nothing?” Furious incredulity burned in Brynn’s voice.

“Warlow didn’t see anyone and no one could explain how someone would have left my room undetected. He was certain I’d done it to myself.”

“You can still see the bruises,” Kyle added. “They’re far too big to be from her own hands.”

Eleri sighed. “Not that it matters. Harding’s new theory is Mel Barber gave them to me when I killed him.”

“Right, you strung him up from the rafters with super human strength.” Kyle rolled his eyes.

The electronic pulse of a phone cut the quiet. Reece straightened, dug his mobile from his jacket pocket and glanced at the screen.

“I need to take this,” he muttered and left the kitchen.

“So what now?” Brynn asked.

“Barber was our best lead. Now…” Kyle shrugged. “Stephen Paskin, maybe. He was the last person to see me before I wound up at The Devil’s Eye.”

“I might be able to speak to him for you—” Brynn started.

“No,” Eleri said, with more force than she meant to. Both Kyle and Brynn eyed her strangely. “He won’t tell you anything useful because of me.” And she didn’t want her sister anywhere near the man.

Brynn sighed. “You’re right. Both he and his wife, Dylis, haven’t spoken to me since the bodies were found.”

It wasn’t the discovery of the bodies that had the Paskins—and the rest of village, for that matter—treating Brynn like a pariah, but that she’d stayed on at Stonecliff to support Eleri.

“That was Carly,” Reece said, striding into the room and shoving his mobile back into his pocket.

Brynn leaned forward. “Does she know what they are?”

“She has a few theories, but wants to go over them with me. I have to go now. She’s leaving for an investigation and won’t be back until Monday.”

“Who’s Carly?” Eleri asked.

“A friend of Reece’s. She’s an expert in…” Brynn shrugged and looked to Reece. “Ghosts?”

He shot her a wry smirk. “Paranormal phenomena.”

“He asked her to look into the shadow people at Stonecliff.” She turned back to Reece and frowned. “I guess we need to go.”

Reece shrugged. “I’ll go on my own. I’ll only be a few hours.”

“No one should go anywhere on their own,” Eleri said, quickly. Not after what had happened to Mel Barber.

“Take Kyle with you,” Brynn said. It was difficult to say which man looked more horrified by the suggestion. They both stared down at her incredulously. “Eleri and I can catch up some more.”

Eleri sighed. No doubt her sister wanted to pick up on the conversation they’d started at the front door.

“Fine,” Reece grumbled, then to Kyle. “Were you going to put a shirt on today?”

Kyle drew a deep breath as if biting back a response. Instead he turned to Eleri, brushed his mouth against hers and whispered, “I don’t think Conway likes me much.”

Eleri’s mouth twitched. “Don’t take it personally,” she whispered back. “He doesn’t like me very much, either. I’m not sure he likes anyone, besides Brynn.”

Chapter Sixteen

Portswelle College was a second rate university at best. Small and old, it smelled faintly of cooking grease—which Kyle suspected was seeping into the halls from the cafeteria at the far end of the main building. Reece led him through the throng of students all going in the opposite direction, leaving them like two fish trying to swim upstream.

“This friend of yours,” Kyle said, following Reece down a flight of stairs. “Is she a professor here?”

Not that Kyle expected much more than a one word answer, since that was all Reece had managed on the awkward drive, making it quite possibly the longest hour of Kyle’s life.

Reece grunted in what Kyle assumed was assent, leading him further into the bowels of the school. Here, the florescent lights cast a sickly pallor on concrete walls and chipped industrial tile floors. Doors lining the narrow passage might have led to offices or storage rooms—probably both.

Christ, if Reece’s professor friend’s office was down here, she clearly wasn’t doing well in her career. What kind of information could she possibly have that was worth leaving Eleri on her own? He wasn’t even sure he believed they were all seeing ghostly shadows in Stonecliff. There had to be a rational explanation.

At the end of the hall, Reece stopped and knocked on a steel door.

A muffled, “Read the posted schedule,” answered.

Reece rolled his eyes and called out, “It’s me.”

“Door’s open.”

Shaking his head, Reece pushed open the door and entered. Kyle hesitated inside the opening. The chaotic mess before him fanned his trepidation. Was this an office or a storage room? Floor to ceiling shelves lined the windowless walls, jammed tight with rotting cardboard file boxes, camera equipment and mechanical things he’d never seen before. An L-shaped desk was tucked into the far corner. At least he assumed it was a desk. He couldn’t see anything beneath the layers of paper and folders.

In the center of the chaos a woman about his age squatted on the floor, jamming a stack of notebooks into a rucksack on the verge of splitting at the seams. She looked up, light gray eyes brightening the minute they fixed on Reece.

“Conway.” She grinned and stood. “You’re looking well.”

Reece smirked and nodded at Kyle. “Dr. Caroline Evans, Kyle Peirs.”

“Carly.” She held out her hand, which he took.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

Dr. Caroline—Carly—Evans looked as much like a PhD as this room looked like an office. At least she didn’t resemble any of the stodgy professors he’d had in university. She was tall and willowy. Dark jeans hugged her long legs, the cuffs rolled up exposing heavy-soled black boots. She wore a puffy white nylon vest over a fitted long-sleeved T-shirt as though she were off to hike rather than teach classes.

“I’m sorry I had to drag you out all this way” She turned to the desk and rifled through the papers. “I’m leaving for an investigation in Scotland. A white lady.”

Reece dropped onto the stool. “White ladies are bad omens.”

She shot him a less than amused look over her shoulder. “You should come along. I could use a good sensitive.”

Reece cast a sidelong glance at Kyle. “No thanks.”

Carly sighed and slid a thick file out from under the mess of papers. “In that case, this is what I have for you. Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell you much more than your uncle.”

“This is about the shadow thing you’ve all seen?” Kyle asked.

Carly nodded. “You’ve seen it?”

Kyle shook his head. “What is it? A ghost?”

“That’s the real questions, isn’t?” Carly said, with a wink. “There are theories, but nothing definitive. Some people believe shadow people are demonic based on the fear they inspire. Though, I should imagine a shadow man with glowing red eyes would scare the hell out of anyone, really.”

“It’s different,” Reece said. “It radiates evil.”

“Interesting.” Carly sifted through the paper on her desk until she found a pen, then wrote something on a Post-it.