Sign of the Throne: Book One in the Solas Beir Trilogy (6 page)

“Where’d you go?” he asked.

“Did you see that guy?” she questioned.

“What guy? I didn’t notice a guy,” Jon said absently, winking at a couple of bikini-clad teen girls walking by. “Hey, how’s it goin’?” he flirted. The girls giggled.

Abby looked from the girls to Jon, annoyed that his attention was elsewhere. “What guy?!? Are you obtuse? Dark curly hair, black leather jacket, impossible
not
to notice?”

Jon winced. He turned back to Abby. “Um, okay Abby, don’t go nuts. I was kidding. First of all, just for the record, I tend to notice women, not guys. Second, sure—I think you are talking about David Corbin. Third, and not to say he’s out of your league or anything, but he has a reputation for being unattainable.”

“Unattainable?”

Jon shrugged. “Yeah—standoffish. Snobby. Kind of a jerk.”

“Oh.” Abby felt a sinking feeling in her gut, hope deflating like a balloon with a slow leak.

“Sorry—don’t be mad,” Jon said. “What I mean is, it’s him, not you. I’m just trying to protect you—he’s
not
worth your time. Besides, it’s not like he’s sticking around anyway. Rumor has it he just got back from a world tour to find himself and he’s off to some fancy exec job in the UK, all courtesy of his daddy. This is according to M³ though, so consider the source. But you know that huge house down the street? The one overlooking the cliff? That’s his.”

Given Jon’s less than stellar opinion of David Corbin, Abby decided it was best to downplay her attraction to him and to keep the dreams to herself. She had dreamed about David
before
she saw him, but it sounded insane. Jon would play along and give her the benefit of the doubt if she told him that, but he probably wouldn’t believe it—he would think she had seen David before and just didn’t remember. Jon would not have appreciated the idea that you did not forget a guy like David Corbin.

That night, Abby dreamed of David again, and this time she said his name. Still, he seemed indifferent, and she woke up wondering why she couldn’t seem to change the outcome of the dreams. She got ready for work with one thought reverberating in her head:
What does it all mean?

She tried to focus on her job, but when David showed up at the pool again, she knew. She was smitten, and there was no hope for it.

As David Corbin walked past the pool, he had the funniest feeling someone was watching him. He turned. It was the girl who worked in the cabana. She was standing in the shade so it was hard to know for sure, but he could have sworn that her eyes were locked on him. Then she lowered her head and returned to folding towels. There was something about her though—something familiar. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

He continued on to the lobby where Michal was waiting for him. She was draped across one of the upholstered armchairs, playing with her cell phone. The spaghetti straps of her red bikini top peeked out from the neckline of a short, white sundress, and she had propped her tan legs up on one of the chair’s rolled arms. She looked up at him. “You’re late.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Ready to go?”

“I’ve
been
ready. We need to stop by my house so I can change.”

“What’s wrong with the dress you’re wearing?” David asked.

“This is a swimsuit cover-up,” Michal explained. “My mom would freak if she saw me wearing this to your house for dinner.”

“It’s a casual meal,” David said. “You know it’s just my parents hosting a barbeque for a few friends, right?”

“It’s a
catered
meal,” Michal said. “And you know that there is no such thing as casual when it comes to your parents. Everyone will be dressed up. Especially your mother. And anyway, I bought something special to wear to this. I think you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure you’ll look very nice,” David said.  Staring at her, he spent a moment wondering why it was so important to Michal that he like what she wore. He frowned, thinking it might be a good idea to bring up that his sort-of girlfriend Amelia would be visiting from London soon. “Let’s go.”

He held the heavy, ornately carved wooden door open for Michal, and they exited the lobby.

Michal stopped and stared at the motorcycle parked in front of the inn. “You brought your bike?”

“Something wrong?” David asked as he descended the tiled steps to the motorcycle. He straddled the bike, scooting forward on the soft leather seat to make room for his passenger.

Michal crossed her arms. “Just trying to figure out how I’m supposed to stay warm.”

David looked at her. It was a warm day, warm enough for a bikini. But he supposed it could get chilly riding on the back of a motorcycle if you were wearing a sundress.
If
you were going fast enough, that is. Not that Michal would indulge his need for speed. She always got annoyed when he held down the throttle too much for her taste. Not that he would admit it, but sometimes he accelerated too fast just to get a rise out of her. He didn’t think of himself as a passive-aggressive person, but spending time with Michal seemed to bring that out in him. In Michal’s defense, however, she at least was willing to ride with him. The last time Amelia visited, she had insisted on taking David’s car.

“Here,” David said, shrugging off his jacket.

“Much better,” Michal said. She slipped on the jacket and pulled her long, blond locks out from under the collar. Then she situated herself on the motorcycle behind David.

He twisted to look at her. “Ready?”

She nodded.

As David turned to kick-start the bike, his eyes wandered to the inn’s front door. The girl from the cabana had come out and was standing at the hotel’s entrance. Up close, he could see that her eyes were a very pretty shade of blue, the kind of eyes that might change depending on the color she was wearing. At that moment, she was wearing the inn’s standard customer service polo, which was a deep blue, almost cerulean, like the Mediterranean Sea. Her eyes reflected the color. She stepped away from the doors, out into the afternoon light, and the sun picked up golden highlights in her light brown hair, making it shine.

David felt Michal wrap her arms around him. He had forgotten she was there.

“Who’s that?” he asked, nodding toward the cabana girl.

Michal looked up and scowled. “Nobody important,” she said.

David held the girl’s gaze. It almost looked as though she was going to say something, but then she turned back toward the doors.

“Come
on
—we’re going to be
so
late,” Michal said.

“Right.” David started the bike and looked behind him as he backed out of the parking space. When he turned back, the girl was gone.

As she heard the roar of the motorcycle engine, Abby felt her face grow red. She was humiliated. She had thought if David Corbin just saw her, he’d recognize her, and maybe…but no. And the look on Michal’s face had only added to her embarrassment.
What was I thinking?
She groaned to herself.
I am an idiot.
She felt like crawling under a rock, but instead she walked back to her post.

Jon was hanging out by the cabana again. Abby avoided looking at him and busied herself gathering used towels from lounge chairs around the pool, hoping he wouldn’t notice her change in mood. He did.

“You okay?” he asked as she walked up to the cabana with her arms full.

She dropped the towels into the laundry bin under the counter and sighed. “My life is as black and foul as a steaming cesspool of filth.”

“Ah,” Jon said. “So, good then.”

“Fantastic,” she said, pulling out freshly laundered towels to fold. “Please, don’t say I told you so...” She told him everything—the dreams, the connection she felt, and now, how she felt like a complete fool. “I think I’ve lost my mind,” she concluded.

“Unlikely,” Jon consoled. He grabbed a stack of folded towels and set them on the counter for guests.

“And of course, it
had
to be Michal. She is
so
loathsome,” Abby said, scrunching up her nose in distaste.

“
Loathsome
? Who says that?” Jon asked.

“
I
do.”

He hid a smile. “Since when?”

“Since…it doesn’t
matter
since when,” Abby said, exasperated. “The point is, I have absolutely no interest in someone who would be attracted to someone like her.” She looked at Jon. “Present company exempted, of course. No offense.”

“None taken,” Jon laughed, hugging her. “You’re right though. We both deserve much better. We really do.”

Abby was able to push David Corbin out of her mind for a while. Even the dreams about him went away for a few days. There were other things occupying her thoughts, however, and they did not give her confidence in her sanity.

Walking home from the inn on Friday afternoon, she passed by the old mansion. She stopped to say hello to the ravens, and as she peered through the gate, she saw a flash of white that looked hauntingly like the doe from her dream.
Now what?
She thought.
Am I seeing things? Wouldn’t
that
be just lovely?

The next evening, which she spent babysitting for Cassandra and Riordan, did precious little to ease Abby’s mind. She put the kids to bed and laid out her homework on the coffee table downstairs. She was immersed in her work when she realized—the house was quiet. Eerily quiet.

She was used to the familiar creaks and groans of the old house, and night ushered in the occasional chirp of a cricket or flutter of moth wings around the antique sconces lighting the room. Tonight she heard nothing—there was only dead silence. She felt a prickle at the back of her neck and realized she was shivering. The room had gone unnaturally cold, and she had the distinct sense that she was not alone.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadowy presence, someone standing still, watching her. She turned to look, but there was no one there. She felt a terrible unease twisting in her gut. Something was wrong. Horribly wrong.

Responding to her intuition, she got up and climbed the stairs to check on the children. Ciaran was snoring, perfectly at peace. He had wriggled out of his covers in his sleep. Abby tucked him back in.

Leaving his room, she walked down the hall to the twins’ room. The nightlight in the hallway began blinking erratically. She entered the room and froze. Perched monkey-like on the corner of Rowan’s crib was a shadowed figure the size of a small boy, leaning over the sleeping child. Sensing Abby, it turned its head, blood-red eyes meeting hers.

Abby gasped with horror as the creature leapt with unnatural agility from the crib and crouched like a spider high on the wall, staring down at her. Slowly, it smiled, revealing rows of pointed, narrow teeth, sharp as razors.

And then…it pounced.

Abby raised her arms to shield herself, scrunched her eyes shut, and screamed. But there was nothing. She heard a low chuckle behind her and saw the creature near the door. The shadow boy laughed and ran out. The smoky form changed into a large, black housecat before disappearing through the hallway wall.

Abby ran to the twins’ light switch and turned on the lights. She checked to make sure Rowan and Siobhan were unharmed, and then hurried to Ciaran’s room, flicking on lights as she ran. Ciaran was still fast asleep—her scream had not disturbed him at all.

She jerked open his closet door and found his aluminum baseball bat. Then, scooping him and the quilt up from his bed, she ran back to Rowan and Siobhan’s room. She shut the door and nestled the five-year-old into a makeshift bed on the floor. Sitting against the dresser next to him, she hummed, trying to reassure herself. Armed with the bat and the adrenaline coursing through her body, she waited.

David was having dinner with his parents at the Newcastle Beach Inn. Sitting in front of him was a dish of steaming
Pad Thai.

“You’re not eating
, David. Are you feeling all right?”

David looked up to find his mother staring at him, and realized he’d been stirring the noodles around
on the dish for several minutes without taking a bite. “Oh.” He stopped pushing the food around with his fork. “Yes, I’m fine. I was just waiting for it to cool.”

Margaret smiled, and the lines in the corners of her eyes crinkled slightly. “Oh, good. I was worried you’d lost your appetite for Thai food after eating so much of it on your trip.” She tucked a strand of her straight, dark hair behind her ear.

David suddenly noticed his mother had cut her hair since he’d left. Apparently she was still getting used to wearing it in a shorter style. Before, her signature bob had grazed her shoulders, and she never played with it. The new style was youthful and flattered her face, and he realized he’d neglected to compliment her on it. He had been too preoccupied to notice.