Mystical Love (20 page)

“Have you seen this kind of mind controlling before, Lloyd, in any of your experiments with the students?”

He didn't answer. Instead, his gaze gravitated back to the mirror.

“Filthy bastard! Sneaking around! Why doesn't he just show himself and tell us what he wants? No, instead, he swats at us like a cat teasing a grass yard lizard. Damn his mocking presence! Damn his fucking impertinence!”

The curse was heated, sliced with raw anger and Janice was shocked to hear the tirade. True, the episode was scary for them all, but Lloyd's tone was distinctly edgy. If she didn't know better, she'd swear he was coming unglued at the seams. Though his posture showed no stress, his behavior reminded her of the dinner table scene in
Alien
. One minute the crew had been dining, chatting happily; the next a terrifying alien popped from their crewmate's ribcage.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Look!”

Lloyd's voice broke off and Janice swept her gaze to the mirror. Her pulse skyrocketed at once. Reflected in the glass was a human feminine face — a quiet oval face, dark and rather delicate. Billowing hair blew about the face and the beginning of a smile tipped the corners of a rosette mouth. And then the image changed. Now a bulbous nose dominated meaty features — a glum-faced man whose mouth was pulled into a sour grin. And then the derisive grin changed to an open, friendly smile and it was feminine again. This time ebony curls swung about proud shoulders. No, now the hair was fiery red. Now, a cobweb of silvery gold.

Janice couldn't keep up with the shifting features. Like a slide cassette gone berserk, images danced and alternated in lightning speed across the glass. What were they seeing? Faces from the ship's log? The images began to repeat and Janice found herself moving toward the mirror. She stood before it, mesmerized by the ballet of color-laden images. Her suspicions had to be correct. They were seeing images of Lisette, the ships' passengers, and crew.

Janice felt a light touch on her elbow but she didn't turn.

“My dear, didn't I say our ghosts were most accommodating?” Muriel whispered. “When we're slow, they prod us.”

“But I don't believe Lisette is producing these images in the mirror,” Janice replied, turning back to the reflections. “I think our third spirit is.”

“But why?”

“To draw Lisette out,” Lloyd snarled, his voice still thick and unsteady.

Fortunately, no one noticed the tremor in her own voice as she asked matter-of-factly. “Why draw her out, Lloyd?”

She was instantly sorry she had asked the question. Lloyd's eyes narrowed and his back became ramrod straight. Janice felt that same nervous tic in the pit of her stomach. The look on Lloyd's face said she was a fool not to know the answer.

“It wants to kill her.”

Janice was surprised by the declaration.

“But, Lloyd, it has already killed her. Three hundred years ago.”

A touch of madness came into Lloyd's eyes at her words and Janice flinched under his withering stare.

“You fool! It killed her body, not her soul! It wants her soul. It will kill all of us to get it. I've got to stop it.”

Before Janice knew it, Lloyd seized an ashtray from a nearby tabletop, and hurled it at the mirror, shattering the glass and spewing shards in all directions. Flabbergasted, Janice jumped away. Could this nightmare get any worse? She stepped back to study the jagged fragments still intact in the mirror and became conscious of a low, tortured sob.

Instinctively, Janice knew a terrible regret was assailing Lloyd for what he had done. Cracking under the strain, his face was bleak with sorrow and his teeth were starting to chatter.

Janice closed her eyes, her heart aching for him. Is this what they all had to look forward to? To succumb to a torment eating at them from the inside out? She kept her eyes tightly closed, unable to bear the sight of Lloyd without breaking down herself. It was wretched to feel so helpless. And then the sobs moved away and Janice opened her eyes.

Jasper was leading Lloyd away with Muriel trailing several paces behind. Janice felt a sick yearning to have this nightmare over — even if it meant sacrificing her body to a hot tide of passion with Adrian. Making love would be a humiliation but one she could quickly forget. If making love to Adrian … she broke off her thoughts and sank into the nearest chair. My God, she was actually entertaining the thought of making love to Adrian without the proper safe-sex precautions. Was she out of her mind? Yes, that was it. She was losing her grip on reality, like Lloyd. She clasped her fingers together in her lap and stared down at them. She hoped when it came, her breakdown would be swift and that she'd have no recollection of it. It was all right to be insane if you couldn't remember the details. A tear dropped onto her thumb and she felt movement in front of her. Strong fingers appeared and covered her white-knuckled ones.

“That won't happen to you,” Adrian stated.

Janice met Adrian's dark eyes. She released her fingers from his grasp and scrubbed at the wetness on her cheeks. Though her mouth felt like paper, dry and dusty, she managed a shaky reply.

“I wouldn't have thought it would happen to him either. Lloyd's the strongest man I know.”

“Let's not judge him until we have all the facts.”

“You mean his behavior may have been manipulated on purpose?”

“Yes. To cause dissension among us. To split us apart.”

Denial flew from Janice's lips immediately.

“But you're wrong. It isn't to split us apart. It's to bring you and me closer together.”

Surprise siphoned the blood from Adrian's face and he stared at her as if she had suddenly grown a new head. Then his face twisted into a lopsided grin and he patted her fists lightly.

“Can't be done. If ever two people were worlds apart, it's you and me. I hate you. You hate me.”

“I don't hate you, Adrian.”

“Of course you do. I'm an arrogant bastard, you said so yourself.”

“Well, you are. But I don't hate you for it.”

Adrian cocked his head and Janice had the feeling he was staring into her very soul.

“Do you want to make love to me, Janice Kelly?”

Weary of the question, her answer was half-hearted.

“I don't know.”

“You
are
cracking up.” His retort dripped with sarcasm and he withdrew his hands from hers. Acknowledging his sarcasm, she pressed her hands over her eyes.

“I must be. There's no other explanation for such stupidity.”

Adrian stood then, bringing her up with him. He swept her into the circle of his arms and his lips descended on hers. It was an empty kiss, lacking real heart and emotion, but still the pit of Janice's stomach did a wild somersault. When he raised his head again and they were staring curiously at each other, Adrian sent her a wry grin.

“There now, we've got the damn kiss behind us. We both felt nothing. Now, maybe we can concentrate on getting the hell out of this place.”

He swung about and strode to the bedroom, leaving Janice to stare after him in alarm. Did he think that empty kiss settled matters between them? If so, he was a fool. The kiss had made things worse, if not for him, at least for her.

Janice sat down hard again in her chair, pressing her hands once again over her eyes. He probably thought a cold kiss would prove to their captors the futility of pushing them together. The kiss had started a funny kind of singing in her veins and on her lips. Her whole being was filled with unanswered longing. Janice gave an impatient groan. Damn Adrian! He had doomed them. She hadn't been fooled by that ice-caked kiss, and if she wasn't fooled by it, the ghosts certainly weren't either.

SATURDAY — 4:15 AM

The west bedroom was swathed in half shadow, half light, and from where she stood in the doorway, it was hard for Janice to imagine a more serene picture. Yet she knew the chain of events that had occurred in the last hour didn't even remotely resemble serene. Nothing seemed real in the last ten minutes. Not Ginger's cocooning, not Lloyd's breakdown, not Adrian's empty kiss. It was if time had simply surrendered itself into Rod Serling's
Twilight Zone
.

Adjusting her eyes to the dim light, Janice studied the four-poster bed silhouetted before her. It stood like a giant wasp, an alien creature with tasseled wings. In its stomach, Lloyd slept peacefully, oblivious to the world, barely seeming to breathe. Muriel was alongside the bed, her arm draped on the coverlet. Janice watched her fingers pluck continuously at the tufted quilting as she kept a vigilant eye on Lloyd's rhythmic breathing. Stepping into the room, Janice headed for the bed.

“How is he?”

A silent wave signaled her to a chair and she sank into the deep green cushions, glad to be able to give her own body some restful downtime. She rubbed her eyelids and then settled her gaze on Muriel, who was thoughtfully contemplating Lloyd's sleeping form.

“How is he?” Janice asked again. Muriel's whispered response was low and filled with compassion.

“He's asleep at last. Poor man, he's exhausted. It must be hell to be so defenseless. To have to listen to garbled voices in your head and not be able to cast them out!”

Janice stole a peek at Lloyd's sleeping form. If there were voices chattering in his head, it wasn't apparent on the surface. He seemed lifeless, almost comatose. Janice wondered if he was somehow slipping away from them on purpose, out of self-preservation. What was he hearing in his head? It was awful not to know. Perhaps if they did, they could help him ease the pain.

Janice returned her gaze to Muriel, averting her thoughts from Lloyd's breakdown. “You don't look so refreshed yourself, Muriel,” she commented softly. She hoped the worry in her tone was adequately disguised. They all had enough troubles without saying the obvious.

“Too much excitement,” Muriel replied. “And not enough time to process it. It's as if time has been suddenly suspended and what we do in the next few moments will seal our destinies.”

“Perhaps it will,” Janice remarked. The women exchanged knowing glances and Janice found herself leaning forward, stilling Muriel's restless fingers. “Do you trust me, Muriel?”

Muriel's eyes widened in surprise at her question.

“My dear, how can you even ask that? Surely you know I've grown exceedingly fond of you. It is my dearest wish that when this nightmare is over, you'll let Jasper and me come and visit you in Colorado. I want to meet that precious daughter of yours.”

Janice felt a rising knot in her throat and swallowed it down. Muriel had to be the dearest, the sweetest woman she had ever met. If only things weren't so muddled. She squeezed the fingers in her palm affectionately.

“I've grown very fond of you too, Muriel. That's why you must listen to what I am going to say with an open mind.”

“I'm a trance channeler. If there's one thing I've got, it's an open mind.”

Janice stifled an urge to laugh. Muriel was incorrigible, her sense of humor indestructible. Even now, when things were at their worst, she was still able to poke fun at their plight. Janice felt a sudden inner pang; she envied Muriel's ability to remain buoyant no matter the adversity. Perhaps if she herself had a better outlook on what was occurring, she would be able to handle the gnawing ache in the pit of her stomach. As it was, continuing to hold back the pain set her teeth on edge more and more, she realized. She had to make Muriel see things as she did. Leaning in, Janice took the initiative.

“I can't stand what's happening to us, Muriel. If I have to stand by and watch another one of you shut down like Ginger, I'll go out of my mind.”

“My dear, who's to say that you won't be next? We don't know what our spirit friends intend.”

“I know,” Janice replied. “I've known ever since I met the baron. What's happening here is between Lisette and the baron. It's that simple.”

“What are you suggesting, Janice?”

“Help me convince Adrian that we must separate from the rest of you.”

Muriel pinched Janice's fingers.

“My dear, that's nonsense. None of us stands a chance alone. We must stick together.”

“But we won't be alone. Adrian and I will be together.” Muriel's frown deepened and Janice added quickly, “Don't think I haven't thought of the danger. But if this nightmare is to have an end, it will be because of me, of what I do. There's no use lying to ourselves anymore. Lisette intends to free her soul and only I have the power to free all of you. Though we all skirt the issue, I am the key. Lisette needs me, needs my physical body.”

Muriel's fingers pinched Janice's again, her horror apparent.

“Surely you're not intending to give yourself over to Lisette? That's crazy talk. Though she seems a benevolent spirit, we could be misinterpreting her pain. She could be lying, preying on our goodness.”

“I wouldn't really be giving myself over to her. When she comes, I don't have any recollection of it. Whatever she makes me do, I won't remember it.”

“And Adrian?”

“He won't remember either.”

“I don't like it!” Muriel scoffed. “For you and Adrian to sacrifice your bodies … I don't like it!”

“If there's another way, I'm willing to listen to it,” Janice commented. She saw Muriel's frown pucker deeper.

“I don't know any other way.”

“Then you'll help me convince Adrian?”

“It's useless, my dear. Adrian will never agree to it, and I say, thank God!”

“He'll agree. He's attracted to me physically.”

“And that's just why he won't agree to it.” Muriel argued. She gave Janice's hand a sympathetic pat, meeting her baffled gaze straight on. “Can you imagine Adrian agreeing to make love to you knowing full well he won't remember it when it's over? He won't do it. Mark my words.”