Hot Spell. Michelle RowenЧитать онлайн книгу.
nude bodies were found by the police. Lovers. A suicide pact, the police decided. The husband claimed ignorance and dark grief that his slut of a wife would take up with a common servant. A nobody.
Catherine and Nathan were bound to the house where they were murdered, but unable to see each other except for one hour a day, from eleven o’clock to midnight. When the chimes of the clock grew silent, they’d disappear from each other’s view, never able to touch each other.
But why? Why were they still trapped there?
Amanda let out a shaky sob as she finally came out of the vision and realized she was crying. She also realized that somebody held her tightly in his arms while seated on the floor—it was Jacob.
“Amanda, can you hear me?” He wiped away her tears with his thumbs as he held her face gently between his hands. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I…I just got a little carried away there.”
“I see that.”
He stroked the hair that had come loose from her ponytail back from her face. His touch was electric and she took a sharp inhalation of breath. Her body still felt the aftereffects of the lust-filled vision, her skin more sensitive than normal. Hot to the touch. She braced her hands against his firm chest to try to push him away but didn’t. He felt so good pressed against her.
Much too good.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Quarter to twelve.”
When the clock struck midnight Catherine and Nathan couldn’t see each other until the next day. For eternity. Maybe it would be an act of kindness to have them exorcised. She couldn’t imagine, after seeing the sadness in their eyes, that this existence was a happy one for them.
Dammit. She hated her job sometimes.
No, not sometimes. Despite her friends and the generous paycheck, she always hated her job. In her new life with David, she wouldn’t have to deal with cursed ghost lovers and chiming clocks that kept them apart.
Chiming clocks.
The clock had taken up a good part of her vision. That had to have some significance. Could it be possible that it had something to do with the curse? It seemed to revolve around time, after all.
Still seated on the floor with Jacob, Amanda glanced off to the side to see Catherine standing watching her. Nathan was nowhere to be seen.
“Please, you must go,” Catherine said. “We mean no harm. Leave us in peace.”
“Where’s the clock?” Amanda asked.
“The clock?”
“The big black grandfather clock.” Amanda looked around the room. “It was once there, in that corner, but now it’s gone. Where is it?”
Catherine shook her head. “You shouldn’t bother with that. It’s dangerous.”
“Dangerous?”
“The clock is enchanted. It was given to me by my aunt, a self-proclaimed witch, as a wedding gift. She never approved of my marriage, said that a marriage where there was no love was doomed.” She set her chin. “I guess she was right about that. The clock works its magic at midnight and is the reason Nathan and I are in this situation in the first place. Why we’re bound to this house and to each other forever.”
Amanda shook her head. “But we deal with enchanted objects, especially dangerous ones. I need to assess it. Maybe we can help you.”
Her attention moved to the other side of the room where Nathan had reappeared.
“The clock is upstairs,” he said. “You should definitely go see it.”
“Nathan,” Catherine said sharply.
He cocked his head to the side. “I’m only trying to help them.”
“Why do you have to interfere? This is none of our business.”
Nathan’s gaze was intense. “If it weren’t for the clock, we wouldn’t be together.”
Amanda could sense Jacob staring as her head turned from side to side as if she was watching a tennis match. She felt as though she was. One that didn’t make any sense to her.
“I have to say it’s a bit unnerving not knowing what’s going on right in front of my own eyes,” he said.
“Help me up,” she whispered.
Jacob got up and offered her his hand. She took it and he pulled her to her feet.
“The ghosts?” he asked.
She scanned the room. They’d disappeared the moment she turned away from them.
She ran through the information she’d received. Catherine’s aunt had given her the clock as a wedding gift and Catherine believed it to be enchanted in some way—the reason her and Nathan’s spirits were trapped in the house.
It was almost midnight. If she could witness what happened when the clock struck midnight, maybe that would help in the assessment. If she could do something, anything to break the curse for the ghosts…
Why was she allowing herself to become so involved with this? She didn’t even like love stories, let alone tragic ones that ended in murder.
“The ghosts are gone,” she said. “For now. We need to find the clock.”
“What clock?”
What was she supposed to say to that that didn’t make her sound completely insane? Then again, what did she care what Jacob thought of her? “It’s a clock that was here when the ghosts were cursed. It might even be the cause of the curse. We need to find it, assess it, and then we’re getting out of here.”
“The last part’s the best suggestion I’ve heard all evening.”
“Do you have a camera?”
“Yeah, right here.” He patted his pocket.
There was a stairway at the end of the hall. The lights were dim and not all of them worked but it was enough to see their way. Amanda wasn’t afraid. Some might be in a haunted house, but she’d already met the ghosts. Not the friendliest sort, but nothing overtly evil there.
She’d felt their love. She’d seen it in the vision. It hadn’t been only an affair, it had been deeper, truer. Not everyone found that sort of love in their life. But if it made one make dangerous and questionable decisions that led to getting shot, then she’d prefer to keep to the much more orderly emotions, thanks.
There was no chance that her relationship with David would end up with her pining away for his spirit. Not that she didn’t care for him; there was some strong affection there, but love?
Amanda’s life was unpredictable enough dealing with her psychic abilities without adding love to the equation.
“WHY DO we care about this clock, again?” Jacob asked as they ascended the staircase to the second floor of the dimly lit, musty-smelling house.
Amanda didn’t answer right away, which worried him a little. Was she in another trance? Was she communicating with the ghosts? He’d never worked with her before, but he’d worked with other mediums enough to know that dead people weren’t always friendly and cooperative. No, sometimes they were vicious and violent and intent on possession. A soft, sweet-smelling, warm human body like Amanda’s would be their first choice to thrust themselves into.
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