Unchanged (10 page)

Her face still expressionless, she cast her eyes far out to the black horizon. "The view from here is incredible." She was lying; she couldn't really see a thing.

"Yes, I have always loved it up here," Esmond agreed, shifting his body so he faced the ocean instead of her. Both his hands gripped the rail now. "I'm pleased you've come up here to share it with me."

Now
, she thought.
If you don't do it
now . . .

Her hands connected firmly with his back and even though he was not expecting it, he didn't tumble over the rail. He was too strong, his feet rooted to the lighthouse. Hot dread washed over Eve as he turned to face her, puzzled. It was clear to him what she had tried to do. She backed up against the glass room, blood draining from her face. Her arm throbbed with pain and she clutched it instinctively.

"Eve!" Esmond cried, astonished. "What—why—"

"You shouldn't need to ask," she said coldly. "You know why."

"I don't believe . . ."

No
, Eve thought, shutting her eyes in defeat.
I've ruined everything. I may as well kill myself now.

Bright, dark, bright, dark against her eyelids.

When her eyes opened, she saw Ahaziel. Esmond turned to face him, prepared to demand who he was and what he thought he was doing there. Although Esmond was bigger and ostensibly stronger, Ahaziel was quicker, and he came forward with sleek grace. Taut tendons popped from the back of one long brown hand as he closed it around Esmond's throat and began to squeeze. Esmond's eyes bulged but he couldn't break Ahaziel's grip. Eve watched with sick fascination as Ahaziel grabbed her stepfather's shoulder with his free hand and used momentum to swing him across the railing. For one excruciating moment he dangled there helplessly, unable to speak, his eyes begging wretchedly for mercy. Ahaziel had none, nor did he have anything to say to the man. He dropped Esmond Havelock at last and Eve flung herself to the rail to watch him fall. She lost sight of him before he hit the rocks, but she knew exactly what had become of him. He was broken and limp now. Fish would nibble his corpse. Nature would swallow his bones.

"Oh my god," Eve breathed, unable to reconcile the horror and elation warring within her. "Oh my god . . ."

"Let's go," Ahaziel said gruffly, reaching for her arm.

"No!" she shrieked, jerking herself out of his reach. She rushed past him, stumbling into the lantern room and nearly tripping over herself as she descended the stairs. She didn't know where she wanted to go. She burst outside and as she ran past the oil house she saw something on the ground, something sticking out where the door was half open . . . As she passed, the thing came into focus and she realized it was Cayden. Whether he was dead or merely unconscious she couldn't tell, but the effect was the same. A short scream escaped her lips and she kept running until someone grabbed her arms and whirled her around. Panic welled and she couldn't focus. It was Ahaziel, she knew. She didn't want to look at him, she couldn't bear it, but her eyes began to see again and his face was right before her, tight and dark.

"Where are you going?" he demanded.

The tone of his voice sent a shiver of fright up Eve's spine. She was afraid he might harm her, but she wouldn't let him intimidate her. Gulping back a mouthful of fear she said, "I'm trying to get away from
you
!" On the last word she wrenched away from him and headed for the house. His presence at her back was so weighty and constant.

In the house she shot into the parlor because it was the nearest room. It was dark, so she made her way to the fireplace mantel and lit the candles upon it. The twin flames provided barely enough light to see by, but she didn't hurry to the next set of candles on the table by the sofa. She felt as if she were walking in a dream, underwater. Maybe nothing that had happened that night was real.

"Eve."

The voice came from behind her. Ahaziel had followed her into the house and stood in the doorway, waiting.

Eve took a shaky breath, fearing she would burst into hysterical sobs at the merest provocation. "I . . ." She couldn't continue. She didn't know what to say.

"I did it for you," Ahaziel said. "I gave you what you wanted."

She fought to keep her chin from trembling. "I don't know if that's what I really wanted."

"What do you want, then? To come away with me? We can leave now, if you like."

"Ahaziel . . ." She shook her head. Going away with him . . . That was what she'd dreamed of since the first moment she'd laid eyes on him. But everything was too confusing now, too real and strange. "Give me some time, would you? Just a few moments to myself, to think."

"To think," he repeated flatly. He didn't look happy.

"Yes. Please. I do want to go with you, Ahaziel, but tonight has just been so . . . so overwhelming . . ."

To her relief he nodded, though his expression looked stiff. "I will give you time," he agreed. "I won't be far. Come outside when you are ready."

"I will," she promised breathlessly. "I won't be long."

He left the room without another word. Eve gave a long, trembling sigh as she turned back to the candles she'd been lighting. She moved with stiff, mechanical control, as if she were performing an ordinary activity on an ordinary night. As if she hadn't seen someone commit a terrible murder.

She didn't feel much better having sent Ahaziel away. She was so scared of what she'd seen him do and what she now knew she was capable of. She had tried to push Esmond over herself; her hands had made contact with his back. She had seen him plunge to his death. Cayden was possibly dead, too. No one could blame her for requesting time to think. If anything she was acting much too rational.

And she knew, rationally, she couldn't fault Ahaziel for what he'd done. He'd done it for her. She realized she wasn't sorry, now that she stopped to consider the matter. Not even a little, because Esmond Havelock would never touch her again.

A laugh bubbled out of her throat.
Never again
! "He's dead," she said out loud, tentatively gleeful. "He's dead!"

Ahaziel would take her away. Away from the lighthouse, away from her own memories. Where they would go she had no idea, and she didn't care.

Laughing again, she spun to the door. She stopped abruptly. A man stood there—Merko. The man she had seen just before Ahaziel had dragged her off to the lighthouse. His face still held traces of a blur.

"You," Eve said accusingly. "What do you want?"

He didn't answer. She edged away, tensed to run, as he began to advance slowly upon her. He kept himself between her and the door, a narrow grin splitting his face.

"Get out of here," she said. "Get away from me."

"No."

She made to dart past him but he was quicker. One arm shot out and he grabbed her hand, holding it with painful tightness. He gripped it tighter as she glared at him, trying not to let him see how frightened she was. His grin was devilish.

"Ahaziel!" she called.

"He can't hear you," Merko said. "He's gone. Never coming back."

"Stop it!" Impulsively she snatched up a candle from the end table with her free hand and shook it at him.

"You're wonderful, Eve," Merko said, leaning easily away from the candle. "It is a shame Ahaziel left you. But don't worry, you have me now."

"Leave me alone!"

"Oh, Eve, I would, if only I weren't having much fun."

He grabbed both her wrists with his squeezing hands. She dropped the candle, her eyes widening as the corner of the rug caught the little flame. Her frightened gasp, one moment of inattention, allowed Merko to pull her closer, but Eve recovered quickly and jerked herself away. She landed against the end table, inches from two other candles. With a broad sweep of her arm she sent them to the ground, only one of them catching on the rug. Pushing herself off the table, she ran across the room to the window and yanked down the heavy drapes. She threw the two candles from the mantle onto the heap.

"Are you mad?" Merko stepped back, toward the door.

She
did
feel mad, possessed now by a dark compulsion to destroy the house Esmond Havelock had lived in, a place fraught with bad memories. She thought only briefly of saving herself, because what was the use? She was too battered, bitter, and too immersed in her own misery to find happiness. But the fire frightened her.

I have to get to the door.

It was too late. The fire was all around now. Eve's skin was hot and she searched frantically for a path to safety. Her eyes felt scorched. She hadn't thought far enough ahead to consider how terrible it would be to burn to death. She felt insane. Killing her tormentor hadn't helped her after all, she realized. Nothing could help her.

Ahaziel, where are you? I need you . . .

"He's already gone," Merko said, his voice distant and dispassionate. He stood by the door and looked like a demon of fire. "He isn't coming back."

"He is," Eve insisted, barely choking the words out because her throat and lungs burned with smoke.

Merko didn't care whether she died. He had already slammed the door and when she reached it she found it locked from the outside. She shrieked wildly, beating her fists against it, but it was no use. The window, perhaps? If she could just make it back across the room . . .

Tears boiled in her eyes and her skin was like paper. The air sounded like millions of crackly leaves. She sank to her knees, feeling helpless and forsaken. Had Ahaziel really left her? Would he think she'd changed her mind?

She saw a black shape outside the window. He'd come for her! He'd broken the glass and was trying to coax her out to safety. Lifting a hand, she thought she felt a cool breeze on her skin, but it was difficult to tell for sure. Anyway, she didn't think she could move her heavy body, no matter how she longed to.

The agony was unbearable. Her screams echoed in her ears, inhuman. She coughed violently as vile black smoke entered her lungs. Her eyes teared so fully she couldn't see a thing. This was death, unimaginably excruciating. The pain built rapidly, spiraling and pulsing inside her until she thought she would burst, and then, suddenly, it was no more.

The years between, he waited. The forest was his refuge. Translucent green shadows fell upon the planes of his face and his arms became branches. He was still and silent and patient. He never closed his eyes except to conjure her image more vividly. He never slept unless it was to dream of her.

Time was nothing. The forest creaked around him, always the same, always changing as the years slipped by, and he alone was constant. She never left his thoughts. She was the reason he waited so diligently, after all. She would find him again.

No one ever suspected his existence. Not even her. He waited for the moment he would emerge and behold her face once more.

Then, one day, it arrived.

Part III

(Lilly)

Nothing Strange

My eyes fluttered open against the dimness of the foyer. I felt something soft against my cheek. I inhaled a familiar salty, earthy scent. His scent.

Snapping out of my dreamy state, I sat up and spun around in one movement. Ahaziel sat cross-legged, his black sweater bunched in his lap where my head had been resting. He wore a plain black t-shirt. His bare forearms were lean and sinewed, his hands held elegantly motionless over his knees. Hands that had held my head and slipped the sweater beneath it. Hands that had killed a man.

I have to get out of here.

"I want to show you something," Ahaziel said.

He stood and reached for my hand. I felt confused. I stared at him numbly for a moment before rising to my feet and backing up toward the front door. I could hear the voices of my friends drifting up the porch steps.

"Don't go," Ahaziel said.

Without a word I dashed outside, praying he wouldn't follow.

"Lilly!" Brandt said with relief.

"Where have you been?" Chris demanded. Her eyes were puffy, her cheeks tear-streaked. "We thought you'd fallen into a hole and died!"

"What?"

"That's what
she
thought," Joy clarified. "So, where were you?"

How did I answer that? I was dreaming at the bottom of the stairs? I was inexplicably transported to the year 1904? I was hallucinating? I glanced over my shoulder at the front door, but it was closed, no sign of Ahaziel.

"I . . . got lost," I finally said. "It was, you know, dark."

Everyone nodded, seeming to accept my explanation.

"And there was this guy," I added on impulse, though when everyone looked at me with wide eyes I regretted saying anything. "Uh . . ."

"A
guy
?" Brandt exclaimed, looking up at the house as if he wanted to punch it. "Like a homeless person?"

"Um, I don't know. I guess so."

"Oh," Chris said fretfully, "should we call the police?"

"No," I said. "Let's just get out of here."

As we piled into the car, I sneaked a glanced at the house again and swore I saw Ahaziel's silhouette, looming darker than the shadows on the porch. I shivered and looked away resolutely. I'd forget about him, I decided. Soon, it would be like nothing strange had ever happened.