Save My Soul (A Paranormal Romance: Preternaturals Book 2) Page 3

  Her breath hitched in her throat. She should be screaming right now. She wanted to, but everything felt too wispy, like a dream. It couldn’t be real. If it wasn’t real, it was okay. Wasn’t it?

  The hands on her skin felt right, soothing. It had been so long since she’d felt this with anyone. She pressed herself against him, soaking in the comforting feeling of strong, steady hands on her.

  Her own voice, sounding nothing at all like it belonged to her, whimpered out, “Yes.” His wicked hands set to work, kneading her breasts with expert finesse, wrenching a strangled little whimper from her. Then his hand slid downward to grind between her thighs.

  She stared out into the blackness, hoping for a form to take shape. Nothing greeted her vision but a bottomless void. Her hips responded, bucking, against his hand as a tongue flicked up the side of her neck. Then he started to nibble, his hot, wet mouth sending her into a tailspin of erotic need . . .

  Anna bolted up in bed. It was just a dream.

  Why did she have to wake up right before something interesting happened? Easy to think that now that I’m awake.

  She leaned against the pillows, allowing her hand to trail down the path his had traveled only moments before. The need for release was suddenly overwhelming. Her mind pushed replay: his hands on her, his voice in her ear. She arched off the bed as she made herself come for the first time in as long as she could remember.

  Anna lay perfectly still, panting, listening to the silence of the house. When her heart rate finally calmed, she could feel it. She didn’t know why she hadn’t felt it before.

  Someone was watching. Maybe she should have puzzled that one out before she’d engaged in masturbation theater.

  Her voice cracked a little when she said, “Ghostly voyeurism is not cool. I have the spice channel. Go watch that.” Anna watched in horror as the door opened, and she sensed the presence slip from the room. Whatever was haunting the house could have simply gone through the wall. But where was the fun in that?

  Chapter Three

  The Peach Festival took up a single block of downtown Golatha Falls with brightly-striped and colorful tents circling the three-story brick courthouse. A stage was set up in front for the day’s entertainment, and there were barrels full of peaches from Mayor Walsh’s orchard beside every booth. The peaches were free. It was an election year.

  Anna stood next to the stage smoothing down her pale yellow sun dress for the tenth time, as her eyes drifted back to the clock in the courthouse tower. Marshal was late. Charles and Cecelia Townsend had already been by to invite her to Thursday night dinner, followed by Tam who’d steadfastly refused to wait with her, saying three was a crowd.

  As if it was a real date. It wasn’t a real date.

  When Anna woke that morning, there had been a dearth of scary. No writing on mirrors, no breaking glass or scraping chairs or moans and groans. No Chinese takeout being creatively rearranged. Things had been so quiet that part of her wanted to dismiss it all as products of an overactive imagination. But then she’d felt the cool breeze blowing through the broken window in the kitchen.

  Maybe Beatrice was taking a nap.

  All that haunting and voyeurism must have taken a lot out of her. Maybe ghosts needed to sleep during the day to recharge their batteries. Anna had turned the coffee pot on, allowing the rich smell and drip, drip, gurgle to comfort her. While it was dripping, she’d gone to wipe the bathroom mirror, only to find it already clean. Beatrice was definitely an odd little duck. The whole Mommy vibe didn’t seem to go with watching people masturbate.

  When Anna left for the festival, Stan the window man had been crouched in the doorway, measuring for the glass and promising it would be finished by the time she got home. Better than new, no extra charge. She’d averted her eyes from his backside. The famous plumber crack had unfortunately spread from plumbers to all handymen everywhere. Window men not excluded.

  She was jolted from her thoughts as the Baker sisters approached.

  “Anna, darling, you look wonderful. Marshal called. He’s on his way,” Mimi said, winking at her.

  “Twirl for us, dear,” Bitsy said.

  “Huh?”

  “You know, twirl.” She revolved one wrinkled, yet well-manicured finger. “We want to see the dress.”

  Anna felt ridiculous, but she obliged them and spun around once. A breeze flew by and picked up the dress, causing her to have to smooth it down for the eleventh time, a la Marilyn Monroe.

  “We’ll get you married off yet,” Bitsy whispered.

  She hoped the old woman was referencing the dress itself and not the near-pornographic display the weather had just caused. Anna had become their pet project. Didn’t they have Bingo night in Golatha Falls?

  “Speak of the devil . . . ” Bitsy said.

  Anna looked around quickly, thinking perhaps the dark lord himself had shown up to congratulate the old ladies on a job well done. It was only Marshal.

  Her date held a bouquet of wildflowers. At least it wasn’t roses. Roses spoke of seriousness and undying affection. Wildflowers said, I like you. Do you like me? Check yes or no. Not wanting to be unkind, Anna decided to create a maybe box. After all, Marshal cleaned up better than she’d expected.

  He took her hand and led her from the gawking sisters into the throng of townspeople. “I’m really glad you decided to meet me here,” Marshal said. He wore the shy persona so well Anna wondered if he truly believed in it.

  Twenty minutes later he still hadn’t let go of her hand. She started to wrench it away, but he held on, not taking the hint. She finally relented in the silent battle. Something low in her gut twinged in warning, but she quickly dismissed it.

  The festival was everything a small southern festival should be. Ponies, cotton candy, peach cobbler, arts and crafts. A tall clown teetered on stilts, with a handful of balloons. Anna did a double take.

  He was supposed to be giving the balloons out to the kids, but this year the festival was headed up by Mary Walsh, the mayor’s daughter. And she hadn’t thought about the logistics of stilts and handing balloons to small children.

  A couple of hours in date claustrophobia had passed when Marshal squealed. “Oh look! The cloggers!” It was severely disturbing to hear that sound coming out of a grown man. “I love these guys. You know they’ve won awards, right?”

  “Is that so?” There was no way she would carry on a relationship with a man who actually liked to watch grown women clog dance.

  He started to clap his hands like a big goon, then a little toe-tapping action got into the mix. She was ready to slink away. “Hey Marsh!” she shouted over the din of bluegrass music.

  “Yeah, babe?”

  She cringed at the endearment, but he seemed too oblivious to notice.

  “I saw Tam over there, and I need to talk to her for a minute about the business we’re starting.” Anna was still talking in that over-loud bar voice she’d picked up in Atlanta.

  Marshal stopped clapping, his attention drawn away from the clogging as his brow wrinkled in confusion. “But you’ve got plenty of money. Why should you work?”

  Anna gritted her teeth. Her voice took on a harsher clip. “Marsh, not to be rude, but it’s really none of your business what I choose to do with my time.”

  He shook his head indulgently before waving her off. She practically ran to the other side of the courthouse to find Tam sitting on a hay bale next to the door prize table.

  “Soooo, how’s it going?” The lilt in Tam’s voice expressed that she expected there to be hot and heavy kissing and groping the moment the sun went down.

  “Oh God, save me, please save me.”

  “You’re too picky. He’s a nice guy. And he’s trying.”

  “He’s overbearing and pushy and annoying. And he likes clog dancers.”

  Tam’s eyes widened. “Not clog dancers! I believe the sheriff’s around somewhere. Would you like to file a report? I bet he’d love to investigate that over the toilet-papering sca
ndal.”

  “I’m serious. I don’t like him. I just want to go home and forget I ever had taste that bad.”

  Tam snorted. “The festival’s over in half an hour. Let the poor man walk you to your door. Then let him down easy.”

  “I need bitchier friends who will support me in my villainy. Come get peach cobbler with me.”

  Tam stood, brushing stray bits of hay from her jeans. “You haven’t gotten cobbler yet? It was the whole reason you were putting up with today.”

  “I know, but Marshal decided you eat cotton candy at fairs, not cobbler, and two desserts will spoil my dinner. If he thinks he’s taking me to dinner . . . That’s two lame dates in the span of twenty-four hours, and I’m not going through with it.”

  Tam held up her hands in surrender and followed Anna to the dessert table.

  The peach cobbler was everything Anna knew it would be, warm, gooey, and rich. Homemade vanilla ice cream melted on top of it as she tried to eat fast enough to keep alive the lovely contrast between hot and cold on her tongue. She’d almost finished her second plate when Marshal sidled up.

  “You’ll spoil your dinner. I was going to take you to the bistro downtown. Golatha Falls has really grown up since you’ve been gone.”

  Anna bit back the overwhelming urge to snark and smiled up at him. “I’m really sorry, Marsh, but I can’t possibly go to dinner. I’ve got people to call, and I need to get some stuff done for Tam.”

  His face fell, and shy guy was replaced with pathetic puppy dog face. “Oh.” Marshal wasn’t to be thwarted for long. His eyes lit up. It was clear he had something brilliant to say. “Well, I’m sure Tam will let you slack off for one night.”

  Or maybe not.

  Tam took the cue and rescued her. “No, she won’t.” She cast a sympathetic glance at Anna, which was returned with an I told you so look.

  “Well, at least let me walk you home.” He’d quickly run out of his list of sly overtures and was grasping for anything to prolong the experience.

  Anna sighed. The sooner they started walking, the sooner this day would be over. It was only a few blocks, then she’d be safe and sound in her evil haunted house with her voyeuristic ghost. Yay, good times.

  When they arrived at her house half an hour later, Anna walked around to the back, Marshal trailing behind her.

  “I’m really okay back here, Marsh. I’m just checking to see that the door got fixed.”

  “It’s dark out. I can’t just leave you alone.” So gallant. So brave. “Why couldn’t you just wait til you got inside to check it?” So whiny.

  “I don’t know, Marsh. Idle curiosity. I’m a wacky kind of girl like that.” When Anna was satisfied with the door, she went back around to the front.

  “Why couldn’t we just go in that door?” he asked, pointing toward the kitchen entrance.

  Anna didn’t like him tacking we onto that sentence and sincerely hoped he didn’t think he was coming inside. She turned to face him, reigning in her annoyance.

  “Because, I have to disarm the security system from the front, not the back. I needed to walk around the back so that I could look at the outside part of the door.”

  She didn’t feel she owed him that in-depth of an explanation, but if she didn’t give it to him, he’d be asking her why this and why that for the five minutes it took to get him off her property.

  “I had a really nice time,” she lied when she was finally standing in her open doorway. She was on the home stretch now.

  He leaned in. Anna leaned back. A grotesque dance of unrequited love.

  “What? Don’t I get a little goodnight kiss?”

  “I don’t kiss on the first date. It keeps the pressure off.” That wasn’t strictly true, but what Marsh didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  “We’ve known each other for years. You can’t make an exception?” He was easing in again, going for his second attempt.

  “No, not really.” Anna was becoming irritated. He’d gone from annoying bad date to general all around clueless ass.

  Marshal tried to look past her into the house. “All right. Can I have the ten-cent tour at least? I’ve always wanted to see the inside of this place.”

  “I’m sorry, but the ten cent tour only covers the outside of the house.” When he smiled that goofy shaggy dog grin like he thought he was flirting, she decided to play it straight. “I’ve really got stuff to do.”

  She was caught off guard when he pushed his way past her, causing the wildflowers she’d carried all day to scatter in all directions. The warning bells that had been gently tingling all afternoon, started to sound more like a loud cymbal.

  The door clicked ominously behind him, causing Anna’s anxiety to climb higher. You’re being silly. This isn’t a Lifetime movie. He doesn’t realize he’s coming off this way. Despite her inner monologue, her hand itched for something heavy to beat him unconscious. Forcing his way into her home was crossing the line. Actually it crossed federal lines, being a felony and all.

  “Marshal, I would like you to leave now. You’re pissing me off.”

  He smiled. His voice came out a smooth purr as if he were seducing her instead of planning an attack. “No, I’m scaring you. You know, you always were such a tease, Anna. I would have asked you out when we were kids, but I thought surely Quinton Worthington’s daughter wouldn’t give me the time of day. It wasn’t until much later I heard you had a crush on me.”

  “Get out.” The words were said between clenched teeth. She’d started to back away from him.

  The smile didn’t leave his face; he only moved closer. Shy guy had left the building. “It’s pretty ironic. I’ll bet there were nights we both touched ourselves thinking of the other, and yet we never got together. Let’s find out if our reality lives up to our fantasies.”

  Anna reached for a lead candlestick off the mantel, only to have it batted away as Marshal pressed her against the wall. He trailed a finger down her cheek, then dipped to capture her mouth in a kiss.

  “All you had to do was give me one little kiss. You didn’t have to be so uptight.”

  Anna leaned forward as if to kiss him back. Instead, she bit his lip and kneed him in the groin. His eyes widened as he reflexively doubled over, cupping the family jewels too late.

  “Ow, you stupid bitch!” His tongue crept out to lick away the thin trickle of blood. His eyes filled with renewed purpose as his face rose to meet hers.

  She knew she should have run for the door, but panic can make you retarded. Now she was the dumb horror movie chick running up the staircase. If she got out of this alive she’d never mock dumb horror movie chick again.

  She’d made it to the landing when Marshal’s hand wrapped around her ankle. She let out a hiss of pain as she hit the stairs. He flipped her onto her back and started dragging her roughly down. She struggled and kicked at him, the adrenaline surging through her system.

  A terrifying growl reverberated through the house, and it sure as hell hadn’t come from Marshal.

  Her date was flung across the front entry hall, smashing into the wall and breaking a picture frame. She watched in fascinated horror as Marshal slid up the side of the wall, choking as an unseen hand gripped his throat.

  The growls continued; the only audible speech was Marshal begging for his life. Clothing ripped at the seams as if by magic, and he started bleeding. Then he fell with a thud as if whatever had been holding him just stepped back and let go.

  Marshal half-crawled, half-dragged himself to the front door, letting out a pathetic whimper as his hands and knees crunched over broken glass in his desperation to get away.

  Anna snapped out of her daze as she tried to grasp what she’d just witnessed. She was still shaking as she descended the steps, too emotionally numb to fully feel the pain of her injuries. But she knew it would hurt like a bitch later.

  She paused, staring at her potential date rapist as he crawled over the threshold to safety. She didn’t want to have to run past him, but he was
in no condition to hurt her now, and she needed to get outside. She picked up the candlestick, her hand far from steady. The thing in her house suddenly posed a bigger threat than the bloodied pulp on her porch.

  Before she could reach the door, it slammed shut, the deadbolt clicking into place of its own accord. Anna tried to turn it back, but it wouldn’t budge. She raced for the kitchen to find the back door had been locked down as well. She slammed the candlestick against the window pane, quickly losing the rest of her grip on calm.

  “Fuck!” she shouted as she attacked the glass. Stan had spared no expense with the window strength. Better than new wasn’t just idle talk. She grabbed the phone off the wall. The silence on the other end didn’t surprise her, but she was grasping at any hope of escape.

  “No!” She looked frantically around the kitchen, backing up until she was in a corner. She held the candlestick out in front of her, as if it could protect her against the invisible foe that had just shredded Marshal like paper.

  “Please, let me out,” she whimpered, hating the desperate begging coming out of her mouth. “I’ll go. I’ll leave like you asked. I’ll never come back. Please.”

  A kitchen chair scraped against the tile. She was beginning to hate that sound. Anna could feel the pain tighten her chest as she gasped for breath, tears streaming down her cheeks. She slid to the floor, her legs unwilling to support her anymore. And then she fainted. Exactly like dumb horror movie chick.

  Chapter Four

  Anna woke disoriented. She was tucked into her bed in that strange, mummified way mothers do with children. Beatrice clearly had some issues. Anna wriggled her arms out from underneath the covers. The room was dark except for the numbers on the alarm clock that read 2:15, and a tiny wisp of light filtering under the crack of the bathroom door.

  She lifted the blankets and ran her hands over the smooth material against her skin. It was the satin chemise she’d worn under her sun dress. The dress had been too sheer by itself. Anna noted her bra was absent and decided she wasn’t going to think about that for the moment.