Phantom Series Boxed Set (15 page)

Alexa grabbed Jacob’s arm. She could feel him shaking beneath his tailored shirt. Did he have any idea of the value of the necklace, magically speaking? Or was he simply being his dramatic self?

“Jacob, seriously,” she reassured him. “I wouldn’t lose something you gave me. I’ll find it. I promise.”

After a moment, he shook the worry off his face and forced a smile. “You didn’t leave the castle, right?”

She hadn’t had the choice. “Not even for a second. And clearly, no one else has been here. I, um, camped out in a room upstairs.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow.

“One selling point of this new property is that the stone seems to generate a nice chill against the Florida heat, but in the storm, it got a little icy. I ventured upstairs where I found a room that seemed warmer than the rest. I’m betting the necklace is up there somewhere. Stay here. I’ll go—”

“No,” Jacob said firmly, glancing once at the castle’s keeper in the painting. “I’ll go. Which room?”

Oh, this was ridiculous. Still, she couldn’t bear to return the necklace to Jacob. Not yet. Not without Damon’s…what? Approval? The charm did, more than likely, belong to his sister, and the protective properties Jacob had believed in had been quite real, judging by the fact that she’d survived the night. No, she couldn’t give the jewelry back. Not until she knew more.

While she hesitated, Jacob took a step toward the second level of stairs, but his foot missed and he tumbled onto his knees. He yelped when his shin scraped over the hard stone.

“Jacob!”

He turned on her in a flash, his eyes watering and his lip curled into a snarl. “Why did you push me?”

“What?”

“Alexa, I know I should have tried harder last night to get to you, but—”

“I didn’t push you, you moron. You lost your footing.”

He stared at her, his eyes wild with accusations he trapped behind clenched lips. Without a word, he headed upstairs once again, making it all the way to the top before he tripped over nothing and once again went flying.

Alexa spun around, spilling her coffee. Suddenly, she sensed a third presence. A larger-than-life-presence. An “I cheated death and I don’t trust anyone” presence.

“Damon?”

Jacob groaned.

She put down the cardboard cup and charged up after her brother. “Stop it,” she commanded through tight teeth.

Jacob had twisted onto his ass, his gaze trained on the spot where he’d tripped—a spot with nothing but the slick, stone floor.

“Stop what? Falling down? I’d like to obey, Alexa, but—”

“No, not you.”

“Then who?”

“Never mind,” she snapped. She had to get Jacob out of here. Perhaps Damon’s entrapment in the painting wasn’t as absolute this time, and perhaps despite his promises the night before, he intended to seek retribution against the man who had somehow come to possess his sister’s necklace. She certainly wasn’t going to lend a hand in the phantom’s quest for revenge. Not toward Jacob, at least.

“Jacob, I’m tired and hungry. I want to go back to the hotel. Now.”

“But the talisman?” Jacob asked, his voice shaky.

He could be such a twit sometimes. “We’ll find it later. This island has been uninhabited for sixty years. I doubt we’ll suddenly have a rush of interlopers in one afternoon.”

Jacob’s hesitation sparked a chill that ran along the edge of her skin. Why was he so attached to the necklace? Sure, he’d thought the charm would protect her, but his stricken look spoke of something deeper. Did he know the powerful magic that made the charm so valuable? How could he?

Either way, she had to get him out of here before Damon threw him down the stairs. She grabbed Jacob’s elbows and helped him stand. He hesitated, but then finally submitted to her tugging and followed her down.

As she reached the grand front door, blue, electric images from the night before flashed in her brain. She held her breath and reached for the latch, hoping the door would open.

It did, but not before a whisper blew across her ear.

You’ll be back
.

Not a question. Not a request. Just a simple statement of fact.

“I own this place,” she whispered. “Of course I’ll be back.”

Jacob eyed her suspiciously, looking around to see whom she was talking to. “Alexa, are you all right?”

She glanced up at the landing. The distance between the door and the painting was substantial, yet though she couldn’t see the sneer of a smile on Damon’s face, she could feel it.

She could feel him.

A brush of her sleeve. A breath across her neck. A flick of a fingertip over her nipple and her body’s traitorous response.

“I’m fine,” she insisted to her brother. “Just lead the way out of here.”

She stepped out of the way and Jacob strode through the door unhampered. Alexa couldn’t resist peering at the seemingly clear blue sky before she attempted to put one foot over the threshold. When no angry storm brewed out of nowhere with winds that would knock her on her ass and slam the door closed, she smiled and strode into the warm Florida sunshine.

Then she realized she’d forgotten her backpack.

Jacob was halfway through the thick palmetto bushes that led to the stone wall surrounding the castle when she called out for him to stop.

“I forgot my pack.”

Jacob rolled his eyes indulgently as he returned to her side. “I’ll get it.”

She grabbed his arm. “No, I mean, you’re not my servant, Jacob. I can get it myself. Wait here.”

Since she hadn’t yet shut the door behind her, she slipped back into the castle and made certain to leave her exit unblocked. Jacob stood in the doorway peering after her, which inspired her to hurry across the entrance hall and up the stairs to where she’d dropped her pack underneath the portrait.

She grabbed the canvas bag by the strap and, as she spun to exit, spied Damon’s intense eyes staring down at her. Eyes that looked glossier than before.

She moved in closer. The whole of Damon’s body seemed glossier, as if the oils…

She reached up and swiped at his breeches, not at all surprised to find dark paint smeared on her fingertip.

“You’re quite the trickster,” she said softly.

“Only when I need to be,” Damon replied.

She looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen. Not, at least, until she peered into a shadowed corner just a few feet away. There she saw the outline of a man. A large man, leaning against the cold stone with a cocky assurance that belied his transparent form, barely visible in the shadows.

After a quick wave to Jacob, she moved toward the corner, which was outside of her brother’s sight.

“Alexa?” Jacob called from downstairs.

“He watches me like a hawk,” Alexa explained to the shadow.

Damon chuckled, and the sound simmered through her body like warmed wine. “I can’t blame him.”

“Give me a second,” she shouted over her shoulder. She heard Jacob grumble in response.

“So you are still free?” she asked.

“I am free from the painting.”

“But not from the castle?”

The sense of his pushing through the space around her spawned a sensation not unlike a chill, but decidedly warmer. He moved into the light, and no trace of him remained except his scent and the remnants of his body heat. She remained facing the wall even though she guessed he was now standing directly behind her.

“I cannot leave the castle without your help,” he said, his voice skimming down her neck on a ghostly breath.

A wisp of a touch reached beneath her blouse and glided over her skin.

She swallowed deeply. “What makes you think I’ll help you after you tripped my brother?”

Pressure built between her legs, not from within, but from without. “Because I’ll return the favor a hundred times over. Remember? I told you this morning. In the room. You didn’t realize then that I was there, did you?”

“Telling me all the sexual things you want to do to me?”

“Oh, yes. I want, Alexa. And I will. Every single delicious sensation will be yours if you help me.”

She started when a jolt of stiffness crashed against her buttocks, as if he was pressing his sex right into the crease, snuggling his thickened cock against her. He might as well have magicked away her clothing, the sensation was so strong. In her mind, he’d stripped her bare. The buttons remaining on her blouse popped open, the fingers that manipulated the fasteners unseen. She looked down and watched her breasts undulate as he attended them with invisible hands.

The sensations were decadent and delicious and too tempting to ignore. She closed her eyes and cooed, even as a teardrop of need moistened her sex and blood rushed to the places he touched—and the places she wanted him to touch. For more of this, she’d do whatever he wanted.

The thought burst into her mind like fireworks, and she instantly spun around and stepped back, breaking the contact between her body and his intangible form. She grabbed her blouse and punched the buttons into place.

“You can’t seduce me into doing your bidding,” she insisted.

She gasped when a whoosh of warm air pushed her fully against the wall. Ensconced in the dark corner, she could see his outline again, right down to his fathomless eyes, now swirling with gray mist like angry storm clouds.

“Every woman can be seduced,” he claimed, his lips mere inches from hers.

“Not me,” she claimed. “Not if you’re going to be crass about it.”

He chuckled and backed away, blowing like a puff of smoke out of her path. “Then I’ll simply have to exercise more finesse.”

Alexa pushed off the wall and, with a swing of her backpack, marched to the staircase, excited and unnerved at the same time. “You do that.”

Before her foot touched the bottom step, she jolted as the sensation of an intimate kiss burst between her legs, right down to the tongue slipping inside and sucking her clit in one explosive pull. She nearly tripped, but instead fell backward into Damon’s invisible but waiting arms. He guided her to the floor, and by the time Jacob arrived, the hot surge of pleasure had subsided and Damon was gone.

“Are you all right? What happened?” Jacob asked.

Alexa shook her head. “Dizzy spell.”

“This place isn’t right, Alexa. Maybe you should forget about this for a while. Find a property that is more…hospitable.”

With a narrowed gaze, Alexa stood, dusted her pants and handed her backpack to her brother. “No way. Nothing’s changed, you hear that?” She spoke to Damon but knew her brother needed to register the message as well. “I know what I want. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get it. Makes two of us, right?”

Jacob’s smile was uncertain, but Alexa didn’t say another word. The message wasn’t for him anyway. It was for the phantom who’d become her lover and who’d just issued her a challenge she’d be a fool to ignore.

Thirteen

Gruff voices below, accompanied by the crack and whistle of police radios, forced Ben to tuck the gun into a drawer in the guest room and head downstairs. He had a license to carry, but he’d rather not deal with questions. Once in the foyer, he found Catalina chatting with the cops.

“Ms. Reyes here says this is your father’s house?” asked a female cop with a ponytail.

Ben nodded. “There’s no sign of him upstairs. I hadn’t heard from him since yesterday, so I came to check on him. The security alarm by the driveway was destroyed.”

As the other officer went upstairs to verify his father’s absence, Ben repeated his conversation with the security company. After answering a few more questions, he found himself shuttled outside onto the porch with Catalina while the police called for backup and began an investigation. Evidence at the scene pointed toward only one possibility—kidnapping.

“He’s all right,” Catalina said, her voice gently melodic.

“You know that the same way you knew he wasn’t at home?”

With a shy smile, she nodded. “Yeah. Great parlor trick to have in the repertoire. Makes you very popular at parties.”

Despite her jokes, he knew she wasn’t kidding around.

“How long have you been psychic?”

She eyed him skeptically. “You seem awful quick to jump to that conclusion.”

Ben jammed his fingers through his hair. “I’ve been around the block. Seen things.” Weird shit, too. Shit most people blew off as hallucination.

“I could be a scam artist,” she warned.

“You could. But with Paschal gone, you’ll never get the one thing you claim to really want—the diary. So for now, I’m willing to take my chances. Seriously, what can you feel about my father?”

She shook her head sadly. “Not much. Especially not out here. Can you get me something of his? Something he cherishes?”

Ben leaned into the doorway and, without entering the house, saw a hand-carved flute lying among the debris near the door. A flash of a memory assailed him. He’d been four. Maybe five. He’d been treasure hunting, complete with pirate kerchief and cardboard cutlass. He’d followed the scribbled map he’d drawn himself to the trunk tucked into his father’s closet. Inside, he’d discovered the ancient musical instrument. Fine booty indeed. Of course, he’d no clue how old the flute was or how fragile. He’d only known it made funny noises when he blew into it, making his triumphant find all the more exciting.

His father had probably taken the stairs three at a time when he’d heard the trills and tweets coming from his room. But he hadn’t yelled or screamed. He’d taken the instrument away gently, explained how fragile it was—how special.

How Ben was never to touch the things his father kept hidden.

He snatched the flute from the floor and shoved it into Catalina’s hinds. “Best I can do on short notice.”

As if naturally sensing the flute’s age and delicacy, she handled it gingerly. “This is very old. Older than your father could be. Much older.”

“He told me he found it in an antique shop in Dresden sometime after he married my mother. Claimed the style called to him, like something from his youth. Only, he doesn’t ever talk about his childhood. I believe the flute is…”

“Romani, yes. Distinctive vibrations come off objects made by people who believe in magic.”

“Do you believe in magic?”