JanesPrize (18 page)

She was almost ready to explode.

He sat back on his heels, his hands on her
thighs. He touched her wet lips with his thumbs, so lightly he could barely
feel her. But she responded with a lift of her buttocks and a sharp inhalation.

“Ready?”

She smiled at him. “Don’t make me wait any
longer. I want you inside me when I come.”

He lifted her and turned her on her knees,
her forearms resting on the bed. Gently he eased her legs apart and moved
closer. She was completely open to him, her pussy dripping warm, fragrant
juices, the mounds of her ass cheeks inviting him into that perfect, puckered
hole.

He reached for the bottle of scented oil
that stood on the bedside table and poured some onto his fingertips. If he
moved just an inch or so he could see the contours of her breasts rising and
falling with her breath. She turned her head over her left shoulder, watching
him in anticipation. He inserted one oiled finger into her anus and she moved
her hips higher.

She was so tight. He had to make her as
ready as he was because he knew he wouldn’t last one minute once he slid into
that taut hole. His cock was on fire, screaming for release. He probed deeper,
sliding his finger inside her until it was buried to the first knuckle. Her
muscles tightened around it. He began to move it in and out so she would grow
used to the feel of it.

He reached around her to rub her clit with
the thumb of his other hand. She whimpered. “Yes, yes,” she moaned. “I love it.
Don’t stop.”

Reassured, he pulled out his finger and
quickly unrolled the condom and slid it on. “Touch yourself,” he whispered.
“Put your fingers where mine were. Make yourself come while I fuck you.”

Obediently she moved so her hands could
reach her clit, and he watched as she rubbed and stroked.

“Now I’m coming in.” He placed the head of
his penis against her asshole, working it in gently until it slipped past the
tight muscles. He heard her gasp as she took him inside her. He stilled,
waiting for her, afraid more movement would bring him to climax.

“Aah,” she murmured. “So full, so full.
More.” She began to move again, urging him further in.

He entered her bit by bit until he was
buried as deep as he could go. Her breath came in gasps. Her hands were still
on her pussy, moving and fingering her clit.

“Is everything all right?” he asked.

“Perfect. Just fuck me.”

Her fingers moved faster on her clit and
she squeezed her ass muscles, pulling him even tighter against her.

“My God, yes,” she screamed. In a blinding
moment of intense erotic pleasure he thrust harder and deeper as she tensed and
lifted her head. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she panted. She let out a deep moan
and then a howl as she came.

Pierce held on to her hips, pushing into
her as hard as he could. When he could hold back no longer he threw back his
head and yelled in pleasure as he released.

After a long moment of hanging lifeless
against her back he withdrew and slid alongside her.

She rolled on to her side and faced him. He
pushed back her damp hair from her face.

“All right?”

“Absolutely. Do you think the neighbors
heard us?”

“Who cares?” He gathered her in his arms
and kissed her forehead. His heart felt as if it would explode with an emotion
he would never be able to express. She had given herself completely, made
herself vulnerable. He had to let her know he understood the value of her gift.
“I love you.”

Words were so inadequate.

Chapter Twenty

There was no denying their relationship had
undergone a subtle change. Yes, the sex was as hot as ever but it had lost the
underlying sense of raw need and was now permeated with a mutual aura of
comfort and companionship. Facing uncertainty and possible danger together had
forged new bonds.

After Pierce’s declaration, they slept for
a while then Jane made some sandwiches, but neither of them had much appetite.

“Want to watch a horror movie?” Pierce
asked as he loaded the dishwasher. He was still fascinated by modern machines
and always wanted to be the one to use them. That suited Jane fine. “I think I
can get that new Stephen King.”

“I don’t think so, thanks.” She yawned.
“Don’t you think we’re in a horror story of our own?”

“I suppose.” He clicked the door shut and
turned the knob to start the cycle.

Jane stashed the bread then wiped the
countertop. She moved in a dream, as if these mundane tasks were performed by
another person, disconnected from reality. It made no sense to be calmly
preparing the bread for a ham sandwich while a murderess was out there waiting
to bring her dead son back to life.

“Maybe. I guess I am pretty bushed,” Pierce
said and put his arms ‘round her. “You wore me out. Let’s go back to bed.”

Jane kissed his cheek. “I’ll just try Selma
again.” She picked up the phone but received the same message. “Maybe she’s
away on a speaking engagement.”

Pierce shrugged. Jane knew he didn’t really
agree with contacting Selma but he hadn’t been able to come up with an alternate
plan.

They threw out the newspapers and switched
off the lights in the living room.

Jane hung her clothes on the repaired rail
of the bedroom closet and slid naked between the sheets. When Pierce joined her
he grunted in pleasure at the feel of her bare skin. Without a word she kissed
him and snuggled close. “We should sleep. Who knows what we’ll have to do
tomorrow?”

“Right.”

He never had any trouble falling asleep and
she felt his muscles relax as he drifted off. Could all men do that? Sleep
anywhere at anytime? She had no idea and it didn’t matter, anyway. She was
grasping at any random thought to keep her mind from the next meeting with
Maria. She didn’t know what to do about that, either.

Sighing, she inched away from him, lying on
her back. She stayed there for a long time, staring at the faint glow of the
streetlight outside the window.

Pierce shifted, murmuring in his sleep. The
luminous hands of the clock crept to midnight, then one, then two a.m.

At precisely five minutes after two the
phone rang. Jane grabbed the receiver before the second ring and pressed it to
her ear.

“Yes?” she breathed.

“It’s Selma.”

“Wait one minute.” Jane slid from the bed
and seized a robe from a hook behind the door. Struggling to insert her arms in
the folds while juggling the cordless phone and opening the door, she managed
at last to make her way back to the living room without waking Pierce.

She cradled the receiver under her ear
while she tied the robe. “Thanks for calling. I was hoping you would.”

“I saw your number on my machine. You
called twice. But no message.”

“No, I wasn’t sure how to put it in twenty
words or less.” She paced the room as she talked.

“Tell me.”

Jane explained about Maria, about little
Stan, about the request to retrieve him from the house and bring him back into
the world.

“She got to you, didn’t she?” Selma’s tone
was sympathetic.

“I guess she did. I kept thinking about the
little boy, with no mother. The mother who’d lost her child.”

“What does Pierce say?”

“He doesn’t trust her. She wanted to come
to the apartment but he pulled me away.”

“She asked to come inside with you?”

“Yes. I didn’t see why not—”

“Never let her near anything that belongs
to you. Don’t let her touch you or know where you live.” Selma’s voice took on
a sharp, anxious note.

Jane’s stomach clenched. “She already knows
where we live. She was on the street outside the apartment building yesterday.”

“That’s too bad. Keep her out of the
building. Pierce is absolutely right.”

“What?”

“People don’t change just because they’re
dead. If Pierce knew her as a liar and says she’s not to be trusted then you
need to be very careful. There may be no little boy hiding in the cupboard.”

“But what could she do?”

Selma gave a short laugh. “What couldn’t
she do? She could drag Pierce back with her, she could kill him again and
remain here. She could even kill you if her power is strong enough and she had
the right opportunity. Is there money involved?”

“Yes, a lot of money. Pierce is set to
inherit the entire estate. But surely Maria can’t inherit?”

“Did you find ways to make Pierce appear
legitimate?”

“Yes.” Jane’s heart sank lower. Had she
been that naïve in believing Maria’s story?

“What does Pierce want to do?”

“He wants to send her back. After talking
to you I think he might be right but we don’t know how.”

“There’s no magic spell, if that’s what
you’re hoping. You’ll have to get her back to the house where she died and did
her haunting.”

“Okay.”

“But never leave her alone with Pierce. If
possible, get someone else to take her.”

“I’ll try. Then what do we do?”

“You have to kill her again.”

Jane felt her heart skip a beat. “You
really mean that?”

“Of course I do. It’s not a crime. She’s
dead.”

“I don’t know if I could do that. Or if
Pierce could do it.”

“Believe me, if it’s your life or Pierce’s
life against hers you’ll do it.”

Jane pictured Selma in her living room with
all the lights blazing. She remembered what Pierce had said about the long
darkness of his existence after Maria murdered him. She shuddered.

“I’ll have to think about it.”

“I’ll do some research too and try to find
out what might work best. I don’t know if a weapon would be any good. Call me
back tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, I will.”

“Good girl. I’ll talk to you again.”

Jane clicked off the phone with cold
fingers. She pulled her robe tighter around her. She had hoped there would be
some kind of incantation, some magic formula for sending Maria back but it
obviously wouldn’t be simple. She thought of the Wicked Witch of the West in
the
Wizard of Oz
. It was simple water that had melted her. And Superman
could be overcome by kryptonite…

Selma had said to send Maria to the house
with someone else. Who? If she was dangerous she would pose a threat to anyone
who knew Pierce or had any concern for him. Could ghosts take hostages?

It hadn’t sounded as if Selma gave much
credence to the story about the boy. If she was right then Maria’s target was
still Pierce, just as it had been all those years ago. Jane still felt cold,
despite the warm night air. She fetched a blanket from the bedroom and sat in
the big armchair close to the window. Wrapping herself in the soft folds she
began to think and plan.

She woke with a start when Pierce touched
her shoulder. Daylight edged the curtains at the living room window. She
blinked and sat up, throwing off the blanket. “I must have fallen asleep. What
time is it?”

Pierce crouched beside her. “Six-thirty.
Why did you come out here?”

She stretched out her back, arms extended.
“God, I’m stiff. Selma phoned while you were asleep. I didn’t want to wake
you.” She told him what she’d heard from the late night call, detailing Selma’s
endorsement of his mistrust. “I think you’re right. We should try to send her
back.”

“Did she say how to do that?”

Jane hesitated. “Not in so many words.
We’ll have to think about it.” She stood and folded the blanket, avoiding his
gaze. “Do you have plans for today?”

At that instant the phone rang. She seized
it, thinking it might be Selma again. “Just one moment,” she said, then handed
him the receiver. “It’s your cousin.”

“Alex, how are you?” Pierce paced to the
window as he spoke briefly into the phone.

He clicked the receiver off and turned to
her. “Alex is an early riser. He never even apologized for phoning at the crack
of dawn.” He smiled. “He’s sending a car for me at nine. He wants me to go
through some old documents with him. Do you mind if I leave you alone for a few
hours?”

“Of course not. I have a few things to
catch up on too. I might be able to see Annice for lunch. Lots of girl talk.
You wouldn’t be interested anyway.”

“I guess not.” He hesitated. “We’ll talk
about Maria when I come home.”

“Of course.”

Jane stood at the window long after the car
had left with Pierce comfortably ensconced inside. She had no idea how she had
refrained from spilling the whole story to him but somehow she had kept to
herself the final details of Selma’s advice. Selma had said to keep Pierce away
from Maria for his own safety and that was exactly what she would do. This was
a heaven sent opportunity to arrange to meet Maria at the house. Somehow she’d
dispatch the wicked stepmother back to the underworld of the dead and no one
would ever know.

Had Selma had enough time to find more
information? Unable to contain her impatience any longer, Jane dialed the
number.

Selma picked up on the first ring. “Good
morning. I was about to call you.”

“Did you find out anything new?”

“Not much new, but a confirmation of what I
had already heard. First of all, we revenants—”

“What’s that?”

“Revenant is a French word for ghost. It
means ‘one who comes back’. It’s quite appropriate.”

“True.”

“As I was saying, revenants usually die
from disease or old age, just as they would in their first life. They can also
die by drowning or serious accident. They can be suffocated.”

Jane shuddered. “Go on.”

“Guns and knives don’t always work. There’s
something about the consistency of our flesh, especially soon after we come
over. It sort of solidifies over the months and years, so in the early stages a
bullet might go right through with no damage. Maria is still in that stage.”

“She is. Anyway, I don’t have a gun.”

“Of course not. I didn’t imagine you would
have.” Jane heard Selma sigh. “You’re going to have to think of a way to get
rid of her that is feasible for you. Just remember that you can’t hold her,
that will only strengthen her. So suffocating would have to be with a plastic
bag or some such.”

A cold shiver ran down Jane’s spine. “I
can’t believe I’m having this conversation.”

“I know. But remember, she’s dead.”

“Yes. I don’t know what I’ll do but I’ll
find something.”

“Good luck. Let me know how it goes.”

Jane hung up the phone, lost in thought.
All kinds of scenarios had floated through her mind during the long cold hours
of the night. She had imagined finding a gun, stabbing Maria in the heart or in
the back. But nothing had seemed feasible, as Selma warned. Something would
come to her, she was sure.

But first she had to find Maria. That
shouldn’t prove too difficult. She showered and dressed quickly then swallowed
a bowl of cereal, hoping it would calm her queasy stomach. When she closed the
apartment door behind her she still felt shaky at what lay ahead but she lifted
her chin and strode out with confidence.

It was a lovely morning, the sun and trees
forming a contrast to the dark thoughts in her mind. Sure enough Maria was
waiting in the park. The sunlight dappled the bench she was sitting on, sending
shimmering highlights dancing over her blonde hair. Today she was in oyster
silk. Where did she get the clothes?

When she caught sight of Jane she rose
quickly to her feet.

“My dear Jane,” she said, seizing her hands
between her palms. “I knew you would come. I knew you would rescue my little
Stan. “

“Let’s sit down a minute.” Jane steered the
other woman back to the bench. “I’ve been thinking about what we should do.”

Maria nodded eagerly.

“I have to meet a friend of mine for lunch.
But then I’ll be free. I’d like you to take a taxi out to the Mansion.”

“I’ll go with Pierce.”

“No, Pierce had to keep an important
engagement, but he would be happy for you to go and meet me there.”

Maria’s face showed her disappointment.
“But Pierce has to be there.”

“Why?” Jane softened her sharp tone.
“Pierce can’t make it and I know you want to find Stan as soon as possible. We
can bring Stan out, just the two of us, then we’ll come back to meet Pierce. He
will be so happy to see his little brother after all this time.”

Maria sighed. “Of course I want my boy. And
I need you to do it for me, Jane. I don’t have the power to bring someone over.
It has to be a human who has never died.”

“That’s why we don’t need Pierce,” Jane
said briskly and stood. “I’ll meet you at the Newland house after lunch.” She
stuffed her hands into the pockets of her shorts to hide their shaking. She had
no idea what she would be walking into but she had to keep in mind that this
was how she could save Pierce. That thought would keep her strong.

Turning on her heel, she left Maria still
sitting on the bench. It was already nearly ten and she had things to do.

Back in the apartment she found the number
of the lawyer who had set all this in motion by offering her the contract to
spend two nights in the Newland Mansion. Abigail answered the phone.

“Of course I remember you, dear,” she said.
“How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Jane hurried on to
avoid any more questions. “Do you still have a key to the Newland Mansion?”

“Yes, we do. Why?”

Jane breathed a sigh of relief. First
hurdle. “I was wondering if I could borrow it again. Just for a few hours.”