Meadow's Keep (The Gatekeepers Series) (33 page)

A slight smell of dust and disuse assailed her senses. No one had been here for some time.
Eryk flicked on a table lamp and the warm glow swept over an oxblood leather sofa. A large stone fireplace, flanked by high picture windows overlooked the back. She stepped around the couch and noticed that a fairly heavy layer of dust, undisturbed, covered the narrow table butted up against the back of the couch.

“No one’s been here for at least six months,” she mused. “Wonder why the
y keep the electricity on?”

“
Because they can.” Eryk mumbled. He’d grown up rich. Electricity to run a closed up cabin cost but a pittance, making the place available on a moment’s notice. This structure wasn’t that different from his father’s in Massanutten, Virginia.

He went into the kitchen, flicked on some lights, and opened the fridge. Bottled water, Coke, Light Beer,
Ginger ale. An unopened block of cheese. Couple of cans of tuna. V-8.

The pantry revealed soups, crackers, just slightly out of date, pasta, jars of sauce.
An easy and quick dinner.

Part of the pantry house
d bottles of wine resting on their sides. He picked up one, looked at it, brought it out to the kitchen, and set it on the counter.

“Let’s finish our tour and
then I’ll fix us a bite to eat. I’m starving.”

“Here?” Jasmine asked.

“Why not? No one’s here. I’d hear someone long before they got here.” He shrugged and made his way up the steps to the second floor.

They found five bedrooms, all with their own baths, cleaned but unused.
Clothes hung in four of the five closets, but not enough to indicate year-round inhabitance. One looked to contain clothing that Jasmine guessed belonged to Lily. She slid the hangers across the rod, examining the clothes with a critical eye.
Not bad
. She contemplated taking a few things back with her for Lily. No. Something had spooked her enough to cause her to flee her own family. Until she knew what that was, she didn’t want to push anything on her, even clothes.

They walked back into the kitchen and
Eryk immediately started pulling out pans. “We’re having pasta. Nothing fancy. But the wine is excellent.” He smiled over his shoulder at her.

Jasmine opened several cabinets until she found the wine glasses and
, setting them on the counter, reached for the bottle.

“I’ve got it.” Eryk took the bottle from her, rummaged through some draws and came up with an opener.

“You don’t have a problem doing this, do you?” She settled on one of the bar stools on the other side of the large island. It looked like hand rubbed teak and was warm to the touch. She found herself absently stroking it as she watched him.

“What? Availing myself of their hospitality? Not a bit.”

He set the bottle aside to let it breathe and worked on the sauce. He found some garlic, slightly aged but still okay, dried herbs, a package of dried mushrooms, black olives, and canned Roma tomatoes. He poured water and oil over the dried mushrooms and set them aside, started the garlic simmering in oil, opened the cans, a jar of sauce, and filled a large pot with water from the tap over the stove.

“
I’d like one of these,” Eryk said, indicating the tap as he shut off the water. “If I ever settle down, I think I want one.”

“Where do you live?”

“Here and there. I’m on the road a lot, although I do have a place in Mississippi, where we winter over.”

“Don’t you worry about hurricanes?”

“Not really. We’re far enough inland to be okay. So far. Knock wood.” He knocked on the teak wood of the island. “My buildings were built to withstand storms: heavy chain walls, hurricane strapping and the like. Hell, we’d be safer in the equipment rooms than in the apartments. I have an apartment building for all of us.”

“
How about the families?” she asked, thinking of Brandy.

“
Brandy’s husband’s an engineer,” he said. “Her parents live in one of the apartments and take care of their twin boys.” His mind flashed quickly to the two laughing redheads, their curls glinting in the sun as they roughhoused around the workshop. The crew had built them one hell of a play area with a fort, spiral slide, and all sorts of contraptions to keep them entertained, nearby, and out from underfoot. Sadness singed his heart. He and Dorian could have been like those little boys, not a care in the world, except seeing what trouble the two of them could get into. He knew his childhood had come nowhere near that kind of rough and tumble joy. He wondered if Dorian’s had.

Jasmine
watched him stir the sauce as he spoke and knew the moment a troubled thought took hold. She could sense it as well as read it in his expression. She absently rubbed at her heart.

She retrieved the bottle of deep red wine and poured each of them a glass, quietly setting his next to the stove where he worked.
As she stepped back, her fingers brushed across his arm and she felt the surge of energy smack into her.

Instantly, his fingers curled around her wrist
and he turned, took the glass from her hand, and pulled her into an embrace, his mouth crushing down on hers, searing her soul. She let the feel of him rush through her. It was at once hot and sizzling, cold and tingling. Her lips parted and she accepted his heat as his tongue stroked and teased.

Her phone broke them apart like two
guilt-ridden teenagers, their faces flushed, their nerves on edge. Her voice broke when she answered the phone.

“You aren’t getting sick, are you?” Bask demanded.

She wanted to cough, to clear her throat but didn’t dare. She took the glass Eryk held out and took a gulp of wine instead, felt it hit the wrong pipe, and the coughing spasm start. She shoved the phone at Eryk.

“Something went down the wrong way,” Eryk
said and tried to steady his own voice. He hit speaker.

Bask, as usual,
began in the middle of a thought. “…did some checking. The next closest location is down in southern Virginia. It belongs to Porter’s wife, Beverly. Why don’t you two stay where you are, get some sleep. I’ll load some coordinates in the GPS, or I can meet you somewhere with the helicopter and have a car waiting.”

“I’m not leaving her
stranded…,” Jasmine tried to choke out, thinking of the mine where she’d been shackled, naked and hurt.

“And you won’t be doing her any good exhausted. You
r powers dampen when you’re tired. You might not know that, so I’m telling you. We don’t know what you’re facing—or who, for that matter.”

“Who?” Jasmine’s voice quieted.

“I don’t like the feel of this.” Bask supplied. “I don’t like it at all. I can’t trace Beverly Monroe to Scotland. Morna doesn’t exist until that picture at the wedding, except for anecdotal quotes.” Bask hesitated a second. “The only reference I have to Scotland, at this point, other than the original descendants, is Ian and he said he was the last. No. I don’t like this at all.” He hung up.

Jasmine looked at the dead phone. “God, that man drives me crazy.” She set it down on the island and found herself edgy and nervous and definitely not wanting to look at Eryk. “I think I’ll get my bag and
freshen up, if that’s all right?”

“Need some help?” Eryk asked,
trying to keep his tone serious, as he stood with his back to her, drained the mushrooms, and added them to the simmering oil.

“No.” She
let out a laugh. “I don’t think so.”

“I’ll finish this and set it to simmer. Take your time.
"

Jasmine slipped out the back
door and headed to the vehicle. She reached for the door handle when she realized how well she could see. Glancing up, the saw the moon peeking through the trees. An earsplitting screech pierced the night and she fell back against the door, dizziness spiraling through her as her vision shifted. Thrusting out her hands, she felt for the frame of the door, held on, and blinked. She was above the trees, looking down. Something scurried across the ground, a small length of fur. Bright lights broke over the trail of the animal. The bird circled and she could see the building, the car, and her body leaning against the door. She could also see the lights filtering through the kitchen. She blinked and took a deep breath, slammed the door and ran to the back door. As an afterthought, she hit the remote, locking the vehicle.

“Hit the lights,” she yelled, “someon
e’s coming."

Eryk had already hit the switch.
She saw her phone on the island just before the lights went out. She grabbed it and dialed through to Bask. “Someone’s coming up the road.” She yelled into the phone before Eryk grabbed her hand and pulled her into the hallway. She could see the lights of the car flash across the windows as the car pulled up.

Eryk thrust her behind him. “Stay behind me. They won’t see you.”

“What about you?”

“I can bend
the light. They won’t see me either,” he waited a beat, “unless they come inside.”

Jasmine pulled her arms up tight
, grabbed fists of his shirt, and tucked her head, resting it against his back. She felt the energy spread into her and back out through him. Although they were down the hall, she felt like they were totally exposed. She prayed Bask wouldn’t call her back.

Eryk stood still,
a statue, pushing with his mind.
The house is empty. There is no vehicle. Leave.

Two men walked toward the front of the house, flashlights shining. As they stepped on the porch, one of their phones went off. “Yeah, Sarge. Nobody here. Quiet as a mouse.” He listened for a moment. “Sure. We’ll swing by
and pick up the pizzas.” They began to move away. Eryk kept concentrating until the vehicle had circled around and left. Finally, he relaxed and shook his shoulders, releasing the tension.

“How come they didn’t see the
car?”

“Not sure. I tried to put thoughts in the
ir heads that it wasn’t there. I really have no idea if it worked.”

Jasmine stepped back. “That’s a neat tr
ick. You think I can learn it?”

“Haven’t a clue. We’ll try some
time. But right now, I’m starving.” He stumbled as he turned and Jasmine put her arm around his waist steadying him.

“If it’s that much of a drain, maybe I don’t want to know
how to do it,” she teased.

Eryk’s energy could drain
, yet be instantly replenished. The weakness would only last a couple of minutes. He didn’t bother to tell Jasmine that since he was enjoying the feel of her arms around his waist.

“You want me to finish up?” She hesitated next to him.

“No. I’ve got it. You call Bask and let him know we’re okay. I have a feeling the old man is chewing his nails.”

Jasmine moved around the island and hit
redial, watching Eryk turn the stove back on and wait for the water to boil. Her conversation was quick and he promised to call and wake them up in a couple of hours.

Eryk set the plates on the island. Steam rose and the aroma of
Italian herbs and garlic mingled with the rich sauce and smelled liked someone had slaved for hours over a stove. He toasted her with the wine and they dug in, hunger replacing conversation.

Jasmine
hadn’t realized how much he’d put on her plate until she sighed and pushed it back, leaving more than half of the plate still covered with food. Her head felt a little light and the wine was coursing through her veins. “I think I’m more exhausted than I realized. If you don’t mind, I’m heading on up. I’ll take the room at the top of the stairs. I’ll shower later. Alone,” she added.

“I’m right behind you once I clean this up.”

By the time she reached the room, she could barely keep her eyes open. She pushed off her shoes, one foot at a time and crawled across the bed, dragging the cover over her. She blinked once and was fast asleep.

The heat in the room was stifling. She could smell lavender. Not light, but heavy. Cloying.
She pushed back the covers and the scent lightened. She rolled over on her back and opened her eyes. The swirls in the plaster ceiling undulated, moving to a rhythm. Jasmine smiled. The dream felt familiar. The air shifted and moved around her, caressing her body. She let her hands move across her body, following the caress of the air. She inhaled the lavender, no longer heavy but enticing.

Her body
ached for him. She could smell him—that scent that was Eryk—mingling with the lavender. She was free to have her dream lover. She let her hands move up his chest and slip around his neck, opening her eyes to gaze into the swirling deep green of his mystical ones.

His mouth crushed down on hers, taking what was his. Their tongues battled, stroked, cajoled. The room grew hotter and they pulled at their cloth
es, wanting the freedom from their weight and the magic of their bodies touching, sliding together, seeking.

The energy clashed, fought, and merged until two hearts beat as one.
The energy found a voice and hummed around them as they sought and explored and fed. The ache was too much. With arms and legs entwined they became one, riding the waves of energy until their cores exploded and they fell to earth, sated.