Dream Eyes (Dark Legacy #2)(32)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

Her release surged through her in waves. The experience was shattering, dazzling—unlike anything she had ever known. She opened her lips on a scream of astonishment and wonder. Judson covered her mouth with his own, swallowing her cries, even as he rocked forward.

His climax powered through both of them.

She could have sworn that for a timeless, joyful moment, the currents of their auras seemed to resonate together. The sensation was at once unnerving and breathtakingly intimate. It was as if for a split second they were looking into each other’s very souls.

I know you, Judson Coppersmith, she thought. I’ve been waiting for you.

Eighteen

The wind chimes clashed and clattered, sounding the alarm. But Louise Fuller knew that the music was not powerful enough to stop the demon from entering her house. It came and went as it pleased. It had been months since the last visit. Every time it went away, she dared to hope that it would not come back. But it was here now. She could sense its presence.

She stopped in the center of the darkened basement and swung the beam of her flashlight toward the top of the stairs. She could hear the demon coming down the hall.

The lights had gone out a few minutes earlier. She had come downstairs to check the electrical panel, but now she knew that the demon had tricked her. The only question was why had it gone to the trouble of luring her down here into the darkness tonight?

The demon had controlled her for years. She was its slave and they both knew it. The demon laughed at her puny attempts to protect herself. In the end she always did its bidding. She would do it again tonight.

Why drive her down here into the basement?

The footsteps in the hall were closer now. The chimes rattled and thrashed in a rising crescendo. The music was frantic, desperate, ominous. Hopeless.

The demon appeared at the top of the stairs, a dark shadow silhouetted against the weak glow of the emergency nightlight that illuminated the hallway.

“Hello, Louise,” the demon said. “I have to tell you that those chimes of yours have become really irritating. Good to know you won’t be making any more.”

The demon raised one hand. Louise felt a terrible chill, as though her heart was freezing in her chest.

Now she knew why the demon had forced her into the basement. In this place there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. She was trapped.

She had always known that one day the demon would kill her. Tonight was the night. A part of her welcomed the promise of release. At last the torment would end.

But a strange, unfamiliar anger surfaced out of the depths.

She would be avenged. The other witch was in town, and she had brought a man of power with her. Sooner or later they would come around, wanting to ask questions about what had happened to Evelyn and the others.

Louise knew that she would be dead when the other witch arrived, but that was not a problem. Gwendolyn Frazier could talk to ghosts.

Nineteen

Judson contemplated the shadowed ceiling, one arm folded behind his head, the other wrapped around Gwen’s soft, sleek body. She was snuggled against him, her head nestled on his shoulder. Their bodies were still damp from the heat and energy that had gone into the lovemaking. The scent in the air was primal. He felt good, really good—satisfied in every conceivable way that a man could be satisfied.

“Okay, that was different,” Gwen said.

She sounded so bemused—so serious—that he laughed, startling both of them. She levered herself up on one elbow and glared down at him.

“You think there’s something amusing going on here?” she asked.

“No, absolutely not,” he said, sobering fast.

“Yes, you do. I can tell.”

He threaded his fingers through her tangled hair. The tendrils felt like strands of silk. In the darkened room, her witchy eyes smoldered.

“Well, maybe a little,” he conceded. “But I liked hearing you scream.”

“I didn’t scream.”

He smiled, savoring the memories.

“You screamed,” he said. “If I hadn’t muffled the noise, you would have awakened the whole damn inn.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you might have a problem with arrogance?” she asked.

“Just stating the facts, ma’am.”

“I wasn’t expecting what happened,” she admitted. She flushed. “I was taken by surprise. That’s all.”

“Not me. I knew we would be good together.”

“Hmm.”

A trickle of unease feathered his senses. He cleared his throat. “Are you going to tell me it wasn’t that good for you? Because I will be happy to try again.”

“No, no, that’s okay.”

“Okay?” He sat up. “It was just okay?”

“It was more like a first.”

“First what? First time with another strong talent?”

“That, too. But what I meant was that it was the first time I’ve ever had a climax that did not involve a small home appliance.”

Relief, delight and an exultant sense of euphoria surged through him. He laughed and flopped back down on the pillows. He dragged her down across his chest.

“You had me worried there for a while, Dream Eyes,” he said. “Glad I could be of service.”

“That is a terribly tacky thing to say.” She punched him lightly on the arm.

“Ouch. What am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know, but that definitely wasn’t it.”

He framed her face with both hands. “How about ‘That was the best it’s ever been for me, and I will remember this night for the rest of my life’?”

She looked dubious. “Would it be the truth?”

“It would be the truth.”

Her soft mouth curved in a wry smile. “Okay, even if it’s not the truth, it’s a lot better than ‘Glad I could be of service.’”

“I’ll remember that. Tell me about the first guy you sent screaming into the night.”

She blinked, caught off guard. “Are you sure you want to hear about my boring past life experiences?”

“I want to know everything about you.”

“Well, it wasn’t at night, and there were two of them the first time.”

“What the hell? Two?”

“I was thirteen,” she said quietly. “I had just arrived at Summerlight. I was alone and vulnerable because I hadn’t connected with Nick and Abby yet. Two of the older boys cornered me outside a storage room and dragged me inside.”

“Bastards.” Rage ripped through him.