The Prophet. Amanda Stevens

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СКАЧАТЬ in the foyer. It swayed gently, throwing shadows across the walls and over the painting so that Mariama’s face alternated between dark and light. The movement was hypnotic, and it was only with some effort that I resisted the trance.

       At one end of the room, a large window faced the street. Shani’s ghost was there, motionless, as she peered out into the night. Watching for Devlin. Waiting for him to come back just as she had on the day of the accident.

       Ethan had told me once that Mariama and Devlin had had a terrible row that day. Shani kept tapping on John’s leg to get his attention. I think she was trying to console him, but he was too angry…too caught up in the moment to notice. He stormed out of the house, and when he drove off, Shani was standing at the window waving goodbye. That was the last time he saw her alive.

       She was still at the window waiting for him, still trying desperately to get his attention. She must have sensed my presence—or felt my warmth—because she glanced over her shoulder with a finger to her lips.

       My breath accelerated as I turned and lifted my gaze to the top of the stairs where Mariama’s ghost hovered, the unnatural current stirring her hair and the hem of her gossamer dress. She was pale and cold, but her eyes were lit with an inner fire as she moved down the stairs, her feet floating inches from the steps. The papers swirled on the console, the light flickered and the air grew so frigid I could see the frost of my rapid breaths.

       I looked down to find Shani at my side, nearly transparent save for the faint glimmer of her aura. She clung to my hand and I sensed Mariama’s rage as she drifted ever closer.

       Icy terror raced through my veins as my heart hammered against my chest. I wanted to back away, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t tear my gaze from the perverted beauty of her manifestation. I had no idea what she might be capable of, how much power she wielded from the other side. I thought of Devlin trapped in this house with her ghost, his energy waning, his youth stolen by a woman who had once claimed to love him.

       Still loved him, it would seem.

       She put out her arms to Shani, and my first instinct was to step between them. Despite my fear, I might have done exactly that, but when I looked down, the glimmer of Shani’s aura blurred and then vanished, as if something had pulled her back into the ether.

       Not so Mariama. With Shani’s fading, she seemed to grow stronger, colder, hungrier. And I was already getting weaker. The place in my chest where I imagined my life force to be felt hollow.

       Mustering the last of my strength, I backed away from the stairs, then turned to flee. Devlin had come in silently through the front door, and I ran straight into him. He caught my arms to steady me.

       “Are you okay?”

       “Yes…I thought I heard something,” I said on a gasp.

       “Inside?”

       “I’m sure it was my imagination.”

       His gaze searched the stairs and the hallway behind me. “I left a window open upstairs. The wind may have knocked something over.”

       “That was probably it,” I said shakily. “Did you find anything outside?”

       “Not a trace. Whoever you saw is long gone.”

       “I heard a car start up and drive away. It might have been him.”

       “Can you describe him?”

       “I only saw him briefly when the moon came out. He was black. Very tall and thin, although—”

       Devlin’s hands tightened on my arms. Something burned in his eyes. “How tall?”

       “It was hard to tell. The shadows distorted him…” I trailed off, alarmed. “Why? Do you know who he was?”

       “No.”

       He was lying, I thought. I wanted to ask him about Darius Goodwine, but I couldn’t without giving my eavesdropping away.

       “I heard the nightingale again,” I told him. “It wasn’t a mockingbird. I’m sure of it.”

       “There are no nightingales in Charleston,” he insisted.

       “Then why do I keep hearing one? Who was that man, John? Why won’t you tell me?”

       “I didn’t see him. How would I know?”

       “He blew something toward the house. It was like a shimmering blue powder. Don’t you find that odd?”

       He said nothing to that, but his hands fell away. He was still standing very close to me, gazing into my eyes. I had the strongest urge to lift my hand to his face, trace that scar with my thumb, assure myself that he was indeed real and this night was really happening. It wasn’t another dream. We were here together. But Mariama was there at his side, stroking his arm, smiling at me over his shoulder. Taunting me because she possessed what I never could.

       I glanced away.

       “Why did you come here tonight?” Devlin asked. “Don’t tell me you were just driving by.”

       “I came to see you.”

       He turned to glance out the door. “How did you get here? I didn’t see your car outside.”

       “I parked down the street.”

       “Because you saw someone watching the house?”

       “Because I didn’t want you to see me,” I blurted. “I wasn’t sure I’d have the nerve to knock on your door.”

       “It takes nerve to knock on my door?”

       I sighed. “Yes, and you know why.”

       It was all I could do to keep from reaching out to him, so magnetic was his presence. I let my gaze drift over him again. He’d buttoned his shirt while he was outside. The cut, as always, was perfection. He had an eye for clothes and the money to indulge his refined tastes. But there was an edge to the way he dressed, a hint of the rebellious nature that had driven him away from his elite upbringing and into the arms of Mariama Goodwine.

       “So, why did you want to see me?” he asked carefully.

       He was still staring out through the leaded glass panel in the front door. I focused my gaze on his profile and shivered. “I got your messages. I didn’t have a chance to ask you about them last evening.”

       Slowly, he turned back to me. “What messages?”

       “The ones you sent while I was away. The text came on my way back from Asher Falls.”

       “Asher Falls?”

       “It’s a small town in the Blue Ridge foothills near Woodberry. I had a restoration there, but then I had to leave suddenly, and I was on the ferry when I received your text.”

       Something flitted across his face. “I never texted you.”

       “But…the message came from your phone. I’m certain of it.”

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