Motive: Secret Baby. Debra Webb

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СКАЧАТЬ the thick, tense silence. Nicholas lifted his face to the night, scanned the craggy cliff above their secluded, sandy haven.

      Flames danced, illuminating the dark velvet sky.

      “The lighthouse…” Apprehension tightened its noose on his neck.

      He had to hurry. Before it was too late.

      Nicholas ran, skirted the rocky shore his feet knew by heart until he reached the narrow path that ascended the jagged cliff side.

      His grandfather had warned him not to forget.

      But Nicholas had shirked that obligation as he had most put before him.

      Now he was too late.

      Way too late.

      The designated time had come and gone.

      Dread constricted his lungs, making it difficult to breathe.

      What had he done?

      As he reached the summit, found his balance on the ledge that overlooked the restless ocean below, his worst fears were realized.

      The lighthouse was on fire…the upper portion— the watch room where the lantern waited…unlit— glowed with the destructive fingers of fire.

      A new kind of panic seized his heart.

      “Grandfather!”

      Though Nicholas had ignored his duty, his grandfather never would. Nicholas charged toward the lighthouse, flung open the door and mounted the steep, winding stairs two at a time.

      “Grandfather!”

      When he bounded up the final step his heart lurched. The watch room was almost completely engulfed. A kerosene can was overturned near the lantern. His grandfather lay on the floor beside it. Nicholas rushed to the motionless old man and dropped to his knees.

      “Grandfather, it’s okay. I’m here now.” He lifted the old man into his arms.

      Unseeing eyes peered up at him. Anguish tore at Nicholas’s soul.

      “No!” The scream echoed around him. The flames crept closer. Nicholas didn’t care. His grandfather was dead and it was his fault.

      “No. No. No.” Desperate, Nicholas attempted CPR. “Breathe,” he demanded between the puffs of air he forced into the unresponsive lungs.

      Splitting glass screeched above the roar of the devouring blaze.

      Nicholas glanced up at the lantern. The glass had shattered. He surveyed the wall of glass surrounding the watch room, then the floor where jagged shards had been spewed across it. The heat from the flames, he realized. The fire had swept a full circle around him.

      He peered down at his grandfather. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

      Ice abruptly rushed through Nicholas’s veins. His gaze was drawn back to the lantern as if a voice had whispered from it. The precious gemstones suddenly glistened, reflecting the light of the savage flames. Words gleamed across the metal of the lantern’s casement—words he had never noticed before.

      Fire and ice…life and death…look into your heart.

      Confusion and misery made Nicholas’s head spin.

      He had killed his grandfather…destroyed the lighthouse…he was responsible…all of this was his fault.

      Now is not the time to give up…there is still hope.

      A force Nicholas could not name drew him to his feet…drew him to the lantern.

      I pray the hollows my soul to keep.

      Nicholas could almost hear his grandfather’s voice reciting the silly childhood prayer….

      His grandfather lay still, unmoving on the floor.

      This didn’t make sense. Nicholas was delusional. Did one lose his mind in those final moments before death claimed him?

      Now I lay me down to sleep.

      “Stop!” Nicholas put his hands over his ears. This couldn’t be real.

      I pray the hollows my soul to keep.

      A frantic cry from far below snapped Nicholas from the baffling trance he’d slipped into. He coughed. Smoke had invaded deep into his lungs.

      Another desperate cry.

      Camille.

      She shouted his name from the ground below.

      If she tried to come up the stairs after him…too dangerous.

      He would not be responsible for her death as well.

      Summoning the courage that had deserted him in his misery, he shouted, “Get help!” Nicholas rushed back to where his grandfather lay and hefted him into his arms. He tried to dart through the flames to reach the stairs, but it was impossible. The entire upper portion of the staircase was swallowed up by the devouring blaze.

      Defeat sucked at Nicholas’s trembling limbs. There was no escape.

      He was going to die.

      Nicholas peered down at his beloved grandfather.

      This was Nicholas’s fault. He deserved to die.

      And Raven’s Cliff will die with you.

      He jerked with a start at the words.

      Where had that voice come from?

      He turned all the way around. The fire had trapped him. Yet, there was no one else, except his grandfather, who could have spoken to him.

      Nicholas shook his head. He was hearing things again. His jaw hardened as sweat ran down his bare skin. You deserve to die, he reminded himself and the voice.

      Yes, he deserved no better than this.

      Cradling his grandfather, Nicholas dropped to his knees to await his fate.

      He heard the voice again. The riddle is the key to salvation…to reversing the curse.

      Nicholas closed his eyes and shook his head. The heat…had to be the heat. He was going to die. He was imagining the voice. He didn’t believe in the curse. He didn’t believe in anything.

      If you die…Raven’s Cliff will die, too.

      What the hell? Nicholas forced his eyes open and demanded, “Who are you?”

      Salvation lies inside you…find it and you will stop the curse and save Raven’s Cliff.

      The curse. Fury roared through Nicholas like a clawing beast. His entire life had been focused СКАЧАТЬ