Chapter 13
Olivia woke with a start, breathing heavily, her heart racing.
As the dream began to fall away, a restless unease remained making the tiny hairs on her arms stand on end.
Untangling her limbs from the twisted sheets, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and winced as her bare feet hit the cold wooden floor.
She pulled her heavy hair back from her neck, and a clammy bead of sweat rolled lazily down her spine.
Dragging in a shaky breath, she reached out toward her nightstand, her trembling fingers grasped for the glass of water, but as she brought it to her parched lips, she realized the glass was empty. Her throat was rough and dry, and her tongue felt as if it was stuck to the roof of her mouth.
If there was one thing Olivia hated, it was waking up in the middle of the night and not being able to get back to sleep; it messed with her concentration all the next day.
There were finishing touches she still needed to add to her project before it could be sent to her publisher.
Her deadline loomed and at this rate it would take a miracle to get it all finished on time.
She despised running behind, it burned her ass.
She’d always prided herself on her professionalism and her ability to keep to tight deadlines, but now she just felt drained and frustrated.
Deep in thought, she crossed the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.
Reaching for the milk, she paused when she heard a noise outside.
Allowing the refrigerator door to swing shut behind her, she listened intently.
When the faint noise came again, she headed out of the kitchen and moved quietly down the hallway toward the door.
A quick glance through the peephole revealed nothing.
Taking a deep breath, she slowly unlocked the door.
Somewhere inside her, a little voice told her it was a dumb idea.
After all, there was a killer on the loose, not to mention something dark and unknown lurking in the woods.
But she couldn’t help herself, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep if she didn’t check.
Besides, she had powerful protective wards encircling the house.
Even now she could feel them pulsing with her power.
Nothing was getting over that line, of that, she was sure.
Stepping out into the freezing night air and onto the wooden porch, she cursed lightly, wishing she’d put some shoes on.
Casting her eyes around, she couldn’t see anything out of place.
Her breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering wildly in her chest as she heard the creak and groan of the wood again.
This time she could have sworn it was accompanied by a shallow scratching sound.
Creeping silently forward, she edged past the porch swing as it creaked lightly in the breeze, then headed toward the end of the porch.
A shadow shifted in the corner, and she leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing in the darkness. Suddenly, a small, furry creature shot out from under the bush that had grown through the wooden railing. Jolting in shock, she stumbled back against the side of the house and laughed breathlessly.
Damn squirrel. She chuckled nervously. Pushing herself back to her feet, she leaned against the rail as she slowed her breathing and tried to calm her erratic heartbeat. The cold wind wrapped around her body, tugging at her nightdress and robe, blowing her long hair back over her shoulder.
Wrapping her arm around a post, she glanced toward the woods watching the dark tree line and her heart hurt.
The woods had always been hers; she’d run wild there as a child, always closely followed by Louisa and Jake.
It had been a place of magic and wonder, and no matter how deep they went, they’d always known they were safe.
That feeling was gone now.
She could feel an oppressive weight nudging at the edges of her consciousness. She wouldn’t venture out into the woods on her own right now.
It wasn’t safe.
She shivered against the cold air and breathed deeply.
Turning back toward her front door, she caught a flicker at the corner of her eye.
Staring hard into the woods, she frowned.
For a moment, she could have sworn she’d seen a light glinting through the tree line.
A prickle of unease skittered down her spine, making her shiver once again.
Walking back toward her front door, she passed by the porch swing, still swaying slightly in the breeze, but as her gaze fell upon the seat, she froze.
A small rag doll was propped upright on the wooden bench, its button eyes creepy as hell as the swing rocked innocuously back and forth.
Adrenaline surged through her veins, her breathing shallow and erratic as she reached out with trembling hands.
Her fingers closed around the soft body of the doll, and she lifted it up into the light spilling from her front door.
Although it had been twenty years, she recognized it. Her head snapped up, and her gaze darted out into the darkness beyond her property. Clutching the doll as if her life depended on it, she ran back through her front door and slammed it behind her, shooting the deadbolt and hooking the chain.
Her back pressed against the door, and she looked down at her hand.
The doll was handstitched with dark hair and wore a red dress over black-and-white striped socks.
It was shabby and stained. Part of its hair and face were singed, the material now ridged and blackened.
Its body marred by an ominous dark-brown stain of dried blood, and it still, after all these years, retained the acrid scent of smoke.
Her body stiffened at the sudden memories that overwhelmed her.
It had been over twenty years since the Christmas she had been given the doll.
She hadn’t seen it since the night her mother died, but she could remember clearly creeping down the stairs in her nightgown, clutching the doll, when she heard raised voices.
Forcing down the wave of nausea she took deep measured breaths.
She didn’t want to think about that night.
Taking another deep breath, she moved through the house, double-checking all the locks and windows.
There was no doubt in her mind who’d left the doll for her to find, and she was not going to give him the satisfaction.
Whatever her father’s game was, she was not going to play; she was not a scared eight-year-old kid this time.
Making her way back into the library, she stuffed the doll into the top drawer of her desk and slammed it shut.
Knowing she should probably call Jake, she couldn’t bring herself to do it, she’d caused him too much trouble.
No, she wasn’t going to tell him about this.
He was already worried about her being out here on her own.
If he knew her father had left her a sadistic little memento of her childhood, he’d physically haul her ass out of the house.
Grabbing the soft chenille throw from the couch she curled up on the old, faded rug in front of the fireplace.
She wrapped it tightly around her body to ward off the chill that had already seeped deep into her bones.
The fire burst into flame at her presence and crackled merrily as she stared into the flames.
Unable to find the peace of mind required for sleep, she contemplated the fiery threads of gold, yellow, orange, and red until the first pale rays of dawn began to creep through the crack in the drapes.
* * *
By the time the sun had fully risen, she was already showered and dressed.
Jake was on an early shift this week, so she wouldn’t run into him, but she needed to see Theo.
They’d spent the last several days together at Jake’s when she wasn’t working, as she tried to help him assimilate three hundred years of a changing world.
To her surprise and pleasure, he was doing extremely well.
He was able to precisely recall dates and events as he plowed his way through book after book.
Given the level of knowledge he was able to retain after only a few days, Olivia had a sneaking suspicion that he had some sort of photographic memory and was also highly intelligent.
He seemed to understand complex ideas that were well beyond his time and education level.
Everything about him was intriguing. He was quiet and unassuming, but she could tell by the look in his eyes that he missed nothing.
Even when she wasn’t sure he was listening, he took everything in.
That level of intensity should have worried her, or at the very least made her wary, but instead it only made her more curious.
Swallowing down one last mouthful of coffee, she glanced down at her watch.
It was still a little early, but then again, Theo’s body clock was naturally set to rise with the dawn, so it was a good bet that he’d already be up.
After rinsing out her cup and placing it in the sink, she tucked the new pile of books she’d put together for him into a bag and picked up her purse.
Heading out of the door, she double-checked the locks behind her and jogged down the steps from the porch to where she’d parked her car.
She drove a few yards down the road from her property before stopping and stepping out of the car.
Leaving the door open and the engine running, she swiftly kneeled at the side of the road and held her hand out over the ground.
A silvery light appeared and rose up from the ground before disappearing into a fine mist. She stood, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully.
Her protective wards still held strong, so how the hell had her father managed to cross the line to leave the doll? It just didn’t make sense.