Masque (11 page)

“So, Synn, are you going to tell our lovely hostess all
about your place in our world?” He slashed forward again and Rena took the
opportunity and jumped on his back. His momentum combined with her weight took
him down.

“What the devil?” He grasped her arms and rolled on top of
her.

Not quite what she had planned.

Synn stepped toward them to intervene, but Eric pulled the
sword from above her head and tucked it under her chin. “Tch, tch, tch. I
wouldn’t come any closer or I might accidentally send our pretty hostess to the
other side.”

Her stomach clenched and her visit to the graveyard rushed
through her mind. She glanced at Annette and Byron, both of whom appeared
incredibly concerned about her, considering they’d just met. She glanced at
Synn and then wished she hadn’t. His face was taut, his hands in fists and his
body hard with restrained anger. She almost pitied Eric, but then again, since
he was a ghost and already dead, what good would it do for Synn to beat him to
a pulp?

Eric sneered at Synn, but he was shaking. He wasn’t as
unaffected by Synn’s stance as he wanted them to believe. Maybe she could use
that.

“Now, Synn. If you want this pretty thing to walk away in
one piece, you need only do one small thing for me.”

“What?” The single word sent between gritted teeth made Eric
shake a bit more, but he continued anyway.

“I want you to disappear.”

Rena wanted to laugh. Why would Synn leave while she was
held hostage? Eric wasn’t very smart. When Synn didn’t say anything, she risked
a peek at him. His entire demeanor had deflated. Didn’t he know it never worked
to give in to the criminal’s demands?

Synn’s deep voice screamed of capitulation. “And then you
will let her go?”

Oh, please. “No, Synn. Stay where you are.” She stared Eric
in his pitch-black eyes. “Get off me, you thug.”

Surprised, he stopped shaking, but he ignored her and
addressed Synn. “Yes, I will let her go if you dematerialize.”

De-what? Rena looked at Synn. His face showed no emotion,
but sorrow and defeat radiated off him in waves.

And then he vanished.

She blinked. He still wasn’t there. She glanced around the
room, Eric’s loosening hold making it easy to see Synn was gone. And just as
suddenly, Synn scooped her into his arms.

“What?” It couldn’t be. What she witnessed was a magician’s
trick. An illusion. It wasn’t that Synn was a…but if he was, then…

Synn didn’t hesitate but strode from the room, Eric’s
laughter following them as they passed through the Green and Purple Rooms. In
the Blue Room she found her voice again. “You’re a ghost too.”

He didn’t look at her, but his muscles tensed beneath her as
if she’d hit him. Still, he continued to her room.

If he was a ghost, then that meant she cared for a person
who had died long ago? At that thought, she squirmed in earnest. He let her
feet drop once he crossed the threshold to her room.

She whirled on him. “You lied to me! You made me believe you
were alive.” She hurt inside because of his betrayal, because of her growing
feelings for him, because… “Oh God, get out!”

He shook his head and grabbed her in a viselike grip. “No.
First, you must listen to me.”

Her hurt changed to rage. She’d trusted him. She had wanted
him in her life longer than the Pleasure Rooms. Hah! He could hang around for
centuries, long after she was dead. How come she didn’t know, couldn’t sense
it?

She shivered. She wasn’t sure if it was from anger or the
shock. Staring into eyes of complete grayness, she gritted her teeth. “Let me
go. Now.”

His impassive face didn’t hide the panic in his eyes or the
desperation, even fear.

She steeled herself against his emotions, in too much pain
herself to care.

He slowly released her arms, his eyes once again devoid of
feelings. He stepped away and bowed as if he were fully dressed instead of
naked except for his blue mask. “As you wish.” Then he walked to the door. Why
he didn’t simply vanish was beyond her.

But as he exited, he hesitated and looked at her, shook his
head and left.

Rena whipped off her t-shirt and mask and strode to the
bathing room. It may only be cold water, but she had a strong need to wash.
Opening the flow, she watched as water began to fill the tub.

What was she doing here? Bryce was right. She was worthless
on her own. She couldn’t even tell the difference between a man and a ghost.
She’d allowed Synn to entice her into sexual experiences because she’d thought
him upper class, but in fact, he was probably a lower-class charlatan from the
1800s. If she couldn’t even distinguish between man and spirit, how the hell
could she run a successful bed-and-breakfast, especially a haunted one? Once
again, she’d let her libido lead her.

Staring at the gathering water, she watched droplets fall
from her own face. The familiar feeling of failure cloaked her mind, bringing
with it its mind-numbing magic. Now if she could just hold her heart together,
she could wallow in self-pity, but it wasn’t to be. She turned off the water
and stood in the cold tub. She mindlessly washed her body, taking deep breaths
at the harsh pain that surrounded her heart, which made the frigid water feel
warm in comparison.

She had liked Synn more than she let herself accept. Already
she’d come to depend upon him, look forward to his company, and enjoy his body
far too much. Stupid, stupid girl. She sat on the edge of the tub and twirled
the soap in her hand. She should have known. His consistent disappearing and
reappearing were right there in front of her. His knowledge of the Abbey and
the ghosts had all been too firsthand.

The soap fell from her hand and plopped in the water,
splashing her legs. She shivered at the cold reminder of her nakedness. Rinsing
her hands, she stood and grabbed the towel nearby. She couldn’t even smile at
Mrs. McMurray’s thoughtfulness in leaving it there. Mechanically, she walked to
her dresser and pulled out a t-shirt. She turned toward the bed and noticed the
sex journal on her nightstand. At the sight, a self-directed anger spewed up
inside her and she lashed out at the book, sending it flying across the room to
smash against the wall.

Rage. Self-loathing. Heartache. It was too much. She
collapsed on the bed, tears of frustration soaking her cheeks as she cried into
the pale-yellow quilt. Sobs choked her until her breathing became labored and
her exhausted mental state insisted that she rest. She welcomed the black
oblivion, content to escape.

* * * * *

Synn eschewed the wall-walk for the chapel. He needed to
talk to Father Richard and the good man better believe it was important.
Slamming open the chapel door, he strode to the front of the pews. “She thinks
I’m a ghost!”

He paced in front of the altar. “Damn it! Did you hear me?
She thinks I’m a ghost. She’s not going to have sex with a blasted ghost. If
Eric hadn’t threatened her life I wouldn’t be here.”

He stopped and sniffed the air. Only musty wood filled his
nostrils. “God damn it, Father. What the devil has to happen for you to believe
it’s bloody important enough to help? Should I give her to Eric?”

Even at the thought, a shudder ran through him, which was a
minor discomfort compared to the right hook that caught him square on the jaw
and laid him flat.

“DON’T EVER SWEAR IN THE HOUSE OF OUR LORD! Do you hear me?”

Synn lay on the chapel’s stone floor. The whole town must
have heard the priest’s roar. Uncertain what to make of this side of Father
Richard, Synn rubbed his jaw while opening and closing it to be sure it wasn’t
broken before he dared to look up at the very angry father. The priest appeared
at least ten feet tall and his form floated above the ground. Hesitantly, Synn
nodded once, but couldn’t help grumbling. “A lot of good I’m going to do our
lady with a bruised jaw. I can forget about kissing now.”

Father Richard shrunk back to his normal, solid size and
offered his hand.

Synn, not wanting to anger the man further, accepted and
found himself helped to a standing position.

Father Richard shook his head. “Now I’ll be repenting that
move for at least a year. I wonder if the cause could be considered just.”

Not sure what the father referred to, Synn retreated to a
safe distance and sat in the front pew. “Are you done beating on me?”

Father Richard flushed. “What has you so riled that you
defile a house of God?”

Synn continued to stroke his jaw, still not sure it was
quite in working order. “It’s Eric and it’s Rena and whether I’m a ghost or
not. God da—uh, it’s complicated.”

Father Richard arranged his robes and sat on the front pew
across the aisle. “It always is when a woman is involved.”

Synn stood again. “The problem is Eric threatened Rena’s
life in order to force me to vanish in front of her.” He paced across the front
of the chapel. “I had no choice. She is the Abbey’s only hope. I vanished, but
now she believes me to be a ghost. She wouldn’t allow me to explain.”

He stopped and faced Father Richard. “The problem is, I’m
not sure what I could say.” He rubbed the back of his neck and spun on his heel
to resume his pacing. “We still have three more Pleasure Rooms left. What if I
can’t convince her to go through them? Everyone will remain here, only instead
of having the Abbey to themselves, they will be forced to share it with
temporary boarders.”

Synn fell into the front pew and let his shoulders sag. He
stared unseeing at the stone floor, the churning in his gut a familiar encore.
The utter guilt made his voice barely a whisper. “I’m failing them…again.”

Father Richard’s hand cupped his shoulder. Peace flowed from
the priest’s hand, but he didn’t deserve it. Synn shook off the comfort and
bent forward, his elbows on his knees, his head hanging low between his
shoulders. He’d done it again. Tried to do what was right and instead made
everything worse.

The priest sat next to him. “You have not failed them, Synn.
You are the only light of hope they have.”

He turned his head to stare at the man as fury burned
through his heart. “And all I’ve done is killed that hope, over and over. And
now…” He tightened his hands into fists to keep the self-loathing from
exploding. “We were so close.” He clamped his mouth shut, trying to hold on to
his temper. And then Father Richard smiled, shaking his head.

Synn’s stomach loosened in perplexity. “How can you smile?
I’ve failed.”

The father laid his hand upon Synn’s forearm. “No, my son,
you have not. I have every faith in your ability to charm and beguile that
lovely woman back into bed with you. I know it here,” the priest put his hand
to his heart, “that you will succeed in freeing these souls.”

Synn sat straight. “You do? How? Are you sure I haven’t
created a false hope in you too?”

The father shook his head. “I have faith in you, but your
success in helping these souls to the other side is not what concerns me most.”

“How can you say that?” Synn stood again. “It’s my only
concern. I must right the wrong I committed.”

Father Richard sighed. “How many times must I tell you? You
did not kill these people.”

“You can believe as you choose, but I was the one who
brought the Red Death into the Abbey. You can’t deny it.”

“I don’t deny it. What I deny is that you had any choice in
the matter.”

Synn’s breath caught hard in his chest. Choice?

Father Richard rose. “My son, these men and women who haunt
the Abbey were destined for the other side. Why they didn’t get there has been
the subject of my investigations, and I think your friend Eric may be the key.
We underestimated him.”

Synn stared at the father as if he’d grown three horns and a
pig’s tail. We? Investigation? He grabbed the father’s arm. “I think you better
explain.”

The father looked down at Synn’s hand and he quickly
released the priest. The good father might provide peace and comfort at the
slightest touch, but Synn had learned his lesson. Father Richard was much more
than he appeared.

The older man sighed and shook his head. “The souls of this
abbey should have crossed over, but something evil and licentious blocked the
way after the prince left. That’s why I have faith that your plan to take the
good-hearted Rena through the Pleasure Rooms will unlock the barrier for our
inhabitants. But you must not look at her as simply a means to an end. She is
more than that.”

Exaltation and determination shot through Synn’s veins. He
jumped to his feet and brushed by the good father before he’d finished
speaking. Synn would find a way to seduce Rena through the last rooms, no
matter what the consequences. “Thank you, Father. Your confirmation is what I
needed. Even if I have to beg her, I will be sure that our hostess finishes the
last rooms. Our friends deserve their peace.”

As the door to the chapel closed, Father Richard slumped
into a pew. “But so do you, Synn. So do you.”

Rena tried to focus on the computer screen before her, but
between the yelling and her own frayed nerves, she didn’t make much progress.
Her laptop battery was charged, thanks to the Ford Expedition and an adapter,
but Valerie’s daily arguments with Jamie, and Synn’s absence, kept the chances
of concentration to a minimum.

Fraser’s Tea Room in town had wonderful Wi-Fi and yesterday
she’d done exhaustive research on the internet regarding ghosts. Not only did
Synn not fit the profile, but neither did any of her current residents. They
were dead, as attested to by the headstones in the chapel graveyard…all except
Synn. She found no grave for a Synn MacAllistair, so he had to have been the
one to bury them all. So where was his body? The image of his decaying body
slumped in a corner of a room upstairs had her stomach flipping over and she
swallowed hard to keep the bile from rising in her throat. She couldn’t go
there.

Unfortunately, even the fact her ghosts became solid didn’t
fit the profile either. As with the furnishings in the house, which hadn’t aged
a day since the Abbey had been abandoned, it didn’t make sense. Again she
wondered if there was a curse.

A loud crash sounded from the other side of the Abbey. She
cringed and put her hands over her ears. She’d given up trying to find middle
ground between Jamie and Val. They would either fall into bed together or kill
each other, and right now, she didn’t much care which, as long as she could
have a little peace and quiet.

At that moment, Mrs. McMurray peeked in and spoke, but Rena
couldn’t be sure what she said.

She took her hands from her ears and smiled. “I’m sorry.
What did you say?”

“Would you like some tea, Miss?”

The idea of Mrs. McMurray’s soothing tea sounded perfect for
her stomach. “I would love some.” The older woman always knew what food or
drink would be best at any particular time. Yesterday morning after Rena had
discovered Synn could vanish, Mrs. McMurray had seen how upset she was and made
cinnamon buns. Just thinking about them had her mouth watering again. Then last
night, Mrs. McMurray had insisted she needed chocolate-filled pastries and Rena
had been in a chocolate coma ever since. At least until now.

The housekeeper stepped into the room carrying a tea tray
and placed it on her desk. Their afternoon tea together had become a
comfortable habit, and she had learned much from the older woman, but she
always refrained from asking the most important questions. Maybe her
subconscious didn’t want to know.

Mrs. McMurray filled the two cups, dropped a lump of sugar
in each and added a touch of cream to one before she handed it to Rena.

“Thank you.”

The older woman took the other cup and sat in the chair
across from her. She shook her head as the argument between Jamie and Valerie
grew louder.

Rena sighed. “You can’t stand their noise either?”

The woman rolled her eyes. “It’s an atrocity. People
shouldn’t act so in public.”

Rena nodded, though she didn’t consider the Abbey public.
Yet. It was more like home to her, which was unexpected. As she and Mrs.
McMurray sat listening to the yelling going on in the dining room, another
crash sounded, which was followed by complete silence. They looked at each
other in wide-eyed fear. Rena recovered first and ran around the desk for the
doorway, Mrs. McMurray close behind her.

They rushed into the dining room where they were greeted by
the sight of Valerie, sprawled on her back on the table, with Jamie on top
kissing her as if he’d die were they to separate. Valerie’s hand on Jamie’s ass
told Rena all she needed to know, and a secret joy filled her to her toes. Mrs.
McMurray, standing next to her, recovered from her shock and took a breath to
speak, but Rena grabbed her arm and pulled her from the room. They made it as
far as the Purple Room before the woman started in.

“Doesn’t she know that kind of activity is only allowed to
happen in the colored rooms? We scour those rooms on a daily basis. Humph.
Times have certainly changed since I served the prince. There were very
specific rules. The dining room was for dining only, the kitchens for cooking
and the bedrooms for sleeping. All activity of a sexual nature had to be
performed in the Pleasure Rooms. If anyone did what those two are doing, they
would have been thrown out.”

Mrs. McMurray, having reached her seat across from Rena’s
desk, plopped herself into it with a huff to punctuate her last statement.

Rena grinned, unable to help herself. Taking a sip of tea,
she studied the older woman. “Were there a lot of rules to living in the
Abbey?”

Mrs. McMurray pondered her question for a moment. “I guess
there were a few, but after living here for a while, we didn’t think about them
anymore.”

Rena put her cup down and leaned forward. “What happened?
Why did everyone, um, cease to exist as…um, I mean—”

“You mean how did we all die? Synn didn’t tell you?”

Rena held her breath as she shook her head. He told her
about the Red Death, but not what role he played in its sweep of the Abbey’s
inhabitants.

Mrs. McMurray took another sip of her tea. “I wonder why he
didn’t tell you? Probably still feels guilty after all these years, poor man.
It wasn’t his fault, you understand. He didn’t know and he was trying to do the
right thing.” She took another sip of tea and cleared her throat.

Rena noticed her doing that a lot and understood. The woman
was losing her voice and soon she would lose substance. It made Rena sad. She
would miss her teas over the next few weeks as the ghosts disappeared. She
smiled encouragingly at the older woman, who continued.

“When I arrived, I thought it had been the best of luck to
have found such a grand position, but after six months with us all cooped up in
here and everyone dying out there,” she gestured to the window with her hand,
“it started to bother me. So, a few months later when Synn crept in the back
way, well, I was happy to see him.”

Rena squirmed in her seat, anxious for the rest of the
story. “What happened?”

Mrs. McMurray’s eyes snapped to Rena and refocused. “The Red
Death came to the Abbey then.”

Rena waited for the woman to swallow another sip of tea, but
no further information came. “What about Synn? Why the guilt, and what had he
hoped to do that was right, and how come you are all still here, and why are
the Abbey’s furnishing as new as the day it was abandoned?”

Mrs. McMurray’s surprise at her questions turned to
confusion before she rose. “I don’t think I have the answers you seek, Miss. I
better get back to the kitchen and make the cookies I promised Matt.”

“Wait.” Rena stared at where Mrs. McMurray had been but a
moment ago. Throwing herself back in her chair, she growled. “Why is it so hard
to get answers around here?” Frustrated once again, she tried to focus on her
computer screen, but her mind wouldn’t stay still. Synn hadn’t appeared in two
days and she had a gnawing dread that he might never return. Her brain
celebrated, telling her it was for the best, but her heart mourned her loss.
Obviously, it made no distinction between Synn the man and Synn the ghost.

* * * * *

Rena played with the nacho chip on her plate, finding it
hard to be enthused about finishing her dinner. The tuna sandwich was edible,
but it sat like a lump of masonry in her stomach. The fact was, she missed
Synn.

Valerie’s hand came down on the table. “Rena! Have you heard
anything I just said?”

She looked up and shook her head.

“I asked if you wanted electricity in the chapel. Where are
you lately?”

She crushed the chip into the paper plate. “I’m here. It’s
just so damn quiet. I miss them.”

Valerie nodded. “Yeah, I do too. Darby and Trent were such a
great help in the servants’ corridors. It takes Jamie and me twice as long to
do what they did.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean I miss talking with
them, seeing them, having them around. They are like part of the family.”

“Yeah, I get that, but I think there is more to your
distraction than the ghosts being gone. After all, this is how it will be every
month and besides, in a few days you will start seeing them again. I think it’s
Synn.”

Rena’s heart leapt at the mention of his name. “I’m
disappointed, Val. I thought he was real, not a ghost. I started to have
feelings for him, a ghost. That’s so unnatural.”

Valerie reached her hand across the table and covered Rena’s
over her plate. “Ree, look at me. There is no way you could have known. When I
said he was hiding something, even I didn’t expect it to be that he was dead.
It’s not your fault. It’s his for not telling you.”

Rena sighed. “I know. But what bothers me is how I found
out. Eric wanted me to see Synn vanish, and it wasn’t because he thought I
should know. He wanted to split us apart for some reason and since it is Eric,
I can’t shake this feeling that I’ve played into his hands.”

Valerie didn’t say anything. She patted Rena’s hand and sat
back.

Rena crumpled her paper napkin and dropped it onto her
plate. “I’m going up to watch the sunset. Want to come?”

“No. With the days staying lighter later, I want to take
advantage of that and inspect Matt’s work. I haven’t had time to go outside all
day.”

Rena stood. “Okay. I’ll clean this up. You go ahead out.”

“Right.”

Once Valerie left, Rena threw away the paper plates and
napkins and took her bottle of water with her as she climbed the stairs to the
roof. The Abbey was so quiet, it was hard to imagine that just a few days ago
she’d been having sex in the library and conversing with Mrs. McMurray. The
only ones left in the Abbey now were those who were alive, which meant at this
time of day, her and Valerie.

She pushed open the wooden door and stepped out onto the
roof. She half expected to see Synn here, but to her disappointment, he wasn’t.
She didn’t really think he would be since the ghosts weren’t solid during the
new moon, but she couldn’t seem to convince her heart of that fact.

Carefully, she treaded around the stonework to lean against
the embrasure. The sun’s brilliance was muted by low layers of clouds, causing
its light to shine through spaces in between. It dappled the water with dots of
light like large fireflies skimming over the waves. Synn would have loved the
view. She straightened her shoulders. Synn had probably seen the view a hundred
times. She tried to harden her heart against him, the sting of his betrayal
still fresh, but his disappearance had her missing him. The more she imagined
his current existence, the more she sympathized. What would she have done in
his shoes? Unfortunately, she didn’t like her answer.

* * * * *

Rena sat in the chair facing her desk, staring out the green
window that made the outside landscape appear like summer, when in fact the
buds were barely starting. She should be working, like the tireless team of Val
and Jamie, but she’d spent last night alternately crying and having nightmares.
She was tired. Maybe she needed a day off.

“Rena.” The deep voice slid beneath her skin and started her
heart pounding. She had to be imagining it. Synn was a ghost. He could not
appear for another few days and then only partially. Maybe a bit ahead of the
others, but definitely could not speak. She closed her eyes. Great. Now she was
having hallucinations.

“Rena. I need you.”

Her heart broke at the words, but her mind still refused to
believe. With more than a little bit of fear, she turned her head and looked
around the side of the wingback chair, afraid to hope that she truly heard
Synn’s voice. As his tall frame came into view, handsome in gray pantaloons,
white shirt and gray vest, her breath caught. Confusion, hope, fear, anger
congealed inside her as she tried to comprehend the reality that was Synn. On
shaky legs, she stood to face this latest apparition, holding tight to the back
of the chair. “You can’t be here.”

He didn’t move as his eyes swept over her. She doubted he
could find the blue jeans and oxford shirt sexy in any way, and yet as his gaze
returned to hers, his desire burned strong. She grasped the chair tighter. “You
are a ghost. You vanished. You should be invisible right now.”

He gave a halfhearted grin and shrugged. “But I’m not a
ghost.”

She shook her head. “But you vanished. I saw you.”

“Rena, I’m not a ghost. I’m not dead. I did not lie to you.”

Mutely, she shook her head, her mind refusing to believe
him. Her heart aching. She found her voice, though it was barely a whisper.
“You vanished like a ghost.”

He nodded, the anger at what Eric made him reveal obvious.
“Yes, I did. But you know what the ghosts are like here. They solidify with the
full moon. Remember Mrs. McMurray? She had no feet when you first met her and
she couldn’t speak. Yet here I am.”

She shook her head. He did have a point.

He refused to look away. “And have you seen any ghosts
outside the walls of the castle?”

She hadn’t, but then again… “When have you been outside?”

He smiled crookedly. “Do you not remember my showing you the
engraving on the battlement?”

His hurt at her forgetfulness struck her as strange. “No, I
didn’t forget your family helped to create this place. But Synn, how did you
vanish like that?”

He walked toward her and she backed up against her desk.

He froze when he saw her reaction. “I have to admit, I
haven’t always been able to do it. It’s a learned skill that took me much time
to master.” His lips twitched. “I had many, many false starts.”

“Is it a magician’s trick?” She wanted it to be.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Then something that can only happen in the Orange Room?”
She could accept that.

He sighed. “It’s nothing more or less than what it is.”