‘So is he . . . Lewis, is his brain okay?’
‘Oh yes. He’s not been as well educated as you or I, of course, and I suppose others might regard him as mentally retarded, but I know he isn’t. It’s Comraich Castle that makes him act the way he does.’
Then, mischievously, as if to lighten the mood, Delphine said to Ash: ‘D’you want to see him speak? Actually watch his vocal chords work?’
‘Uh. I’ll take a raincheck on that. Too much, too soon, y’know?’
Delphine patted Lewis’s arm gently. ‘Now, young man,’ she said in a no-nonsense voice, ‘time you were in bed. You need your sleep.’
Lewis immediately walked to the wardrobe, pulled on a long silk nightgown and climbed into bed.
Delphine further surprised Ash by leaning forward and kissing Lewis’s cheek.
‘Good night, Lewis,’ she said tenderly, like a mother to a five-year-old. ‘Sleep tight.’
‘Night, Delph. See you tomorrow.’
Ash wasn’t sure if he was more startled by the fact that Lewis had spoken, or by the girlishly high pitch of his voice. He received another, pleasant jolt at the next sound from beneath the silky bedsheets that covered Lewis’s head.
‘Night, Mr Ash.’
He and Delphine quietly left the room, closing the door softly behind them.
49
After leaving Lewis in his lonely eyrie, Ash continued his vigil. But this time, it was different; now, he had a companion.
Both he and Delphine were exhausted – it had been a hell of a day, and this place, not to mention the people in it, were just mind-boggling. But the fact remained that Comraich was undergoing a terrible psychic storm that was dangerous to everyone in the castle, and he had to somehow convince Haelstrom to evacuate the building as soon as possible. The investigator felt sure that worse was yet to come. When it did, the consequences might prove fatal for many more of the castle’s guests, especially those with weak hearts or other frailties.
Once again he visited all his equipment sites, with Delphine beside him. The psychologist looked tired and drawn. It was little wonder, considering what she had been through that day herself, though she had rejected Ash’s urgings to get some sleep during what remained of the night. Yet still there was that prettiness to her face, that softness in her liquid-dark eyes and, he had to face it, he was very glad she was with him. She was not too tired to be interested in his ghost-hunting methods and the apparatus he’d brought, surprised that much of it was so simple. He explained that ghosts rarely hid themselves away; in fact, being found or contacted was part of their purpose, proof that they had the spiritual strength to manifest themselves, sometimes by materializing unexpectedly or by moving solid objects or even speaking. It made the spirits aware they could still enter this physical dimension.
Delphine’s interest and intelligent questions gradually began to rekindle Ash’s enthusiasm, and he realized some of his energy was reviving.
Soon his thoughts returned once more to the curious oddity he’d just seen. He wondered if Lewis might have attracted malign spirits. There was no doubt that he was sensitive, both mentally and physically: but a sensitive? Ash could only wonder what Lewis had endured during the years he’d been kept at Comraich. What was his secret? Delphine had denied all knowledge, though as his psychologist she should at least have been informed. He decided he would ask her later: with both of them exhausted, this was not the time to accuse her of withholding information.
After an hour checking his instruments, none of which showed any sign of disturbance, Ash decided to call it a night. He and Delphine returned to the third floor, where they lingered by Delphine’s door, both of them weary yet tense, wired almost, by the castle’s strange atmosphere, a kind of mood that was only in part to do with its chilly temperature. A patrolling guard passed them, a knowing smirk on his face as he wished them good night.
Delphine stood close to him, looking up into his face as if to ask a difficult question. He felt her warmth, but resisted his own feelings.
‘I guess . . .’ he began, but let the rest of what he was about to say hang in the air. He was going to suggest they should both return to their rooms and get some well-earned rest but, although she still faced him, her hand had found her door handle and she pushed the door open behind her.
‘Delphine, I . . .’ The huskiness in his voice was a mixture of weariness and desire. He reached round her and pushed the door open fully. He couldn’t find words for everything he’d thought – felt – that day.
Before they went inside, she stepped into his arms and rested her cheek against his chest.
He closed the door behind them and wished fervently that the bedroom doors had locks to shut out the world. He pulled her tightly towards him, her body small and slight in his arms so that he felt her fragility, and they kissed, softly at first, then harder, hungrily, her soft lips opening to him as his tongue met hers.
Delphine led him towards her bed and they both fell onto it. His mouth tasted her cheeks, her brow, and the delicate line of her neck. She uttered a small cry of passion when he pulled her hair aside and slid his tongue around her delicately shaped ear. His hardness was pressed into her and she moved her hips against him, parting her thighs slightly, arousing him even more, his kisses, matched by hers, becoming even wilder. Soon their hands began to explore each other’s bodies.
Ash did his best to control his passion, but one hand soon cupped her breast over the softness of her cardigan, then slid inside the material of her blouse.
When his fingers brushed over her skimpy bra so that the tips of his fingers rested on the shallow lace trim, feeling the soft skin near the top of her small breast, she gasped. He paused, and she looked up at him, confused.
‘Please, David . . .’ she whispered. ‘Please, don’t stop . . .’
How could she know of the last two women he’d loved: Christina, who was not real, yet truly real to him, or Grace, whose agony he’d watched as her skin was torn from her flesh? Was he some kind of Jonah, deadly to any woman he came close to?
‘What is it, David?’ Delphine asked urgently, her passion barely in check. ‘Why have you stopped?’
‘I’m sorry, Delphine,’ he spoke quietly and there was an edge of self-reproach to his tone.
His next words were spoken soberly. ‘Delphine, I think I knew how I felt about you the moment you boarded the plane.’
Her eyes glistened.
‘Are you sure?’ she asked. ‘We barely know each other.’
‘I’m sure,’ he said. ‘But I just need to take things slowly. I hope you understand.’
As he turned to lie beside her, Ash sensed she was the one who needed help and consolation, compassion and support, and was angry at himself for his selfishness. What awfulness had she witnessed at this strange place? What dreadful experimentation had she discovered taking place within the confines of Comraich? She was obviously unhappy here, so why was she frightened to leave? He’d felt her doubt, her bewilderment, even when she was singing the medical unit’s praises. He’d seen for himself the hesitation when he’d asked difficult questions. Was it the threat of what would happen to her should she desert the castle? Or did she stay because there was nowhere else to go? No, no, he reasoned. She was stronger than that.
Then was it concern for what might happen to Lewis should she abandon him?
As they lay side by side Delphine started to describe how, earlier that evening, she and Lewis had walked through the empty gardens, and how Lewis had been strangely reluctant to return to the castle. Then, when they’d heard the screams from the dining hall, Lewis had pulled her away from the building to the peaceful gardens, waiting there until all was quiet. Many hours later, when everyone had gone to bed, Lewis had allowed her to lead him back inside. While he’d made his way up to his tower room, Delphine had dropped by to check on a patient, then followed him up. Too late, alas, to prevent Ash from chasing after him.
They talked of the weird paranormal h
appenings at Comraich, and the terrible animal screeching that she too had heard coming from somewhere distant in the woods.
Ash told her about Lukovic, knowing the marks on his body would be obvious, and about what had happened in the containment area.
‘I’m frightened, David,’ she said. ‘Frightened for you, for Lewis, and for myself.’ Delphine held Ash tightly and suddenly Ash felt the hesitancy between them evaporate.
All the fears and apprehensions that were his problems were swept away; swept away because, ridiculous though it might seem on such a short acquaintance, he knew he really did love her and would protect her – and Lewis, if it came to that – with all the power he had. It might prove insufficient, but in his lifetime he’d overcome some pretty grim situations. It had cost him, it had cost him dearly. But he’d learned that nothing was insurmountable or too overwhelming to come to grips with. He had twice lost women he’d cared for, but so what? He would make sure there was never a third time.
Gently, he pulled Delphine into his arms again, and she came willingly.
They lay naked beneath the bedsheets, having slowly undressed each other – the anticipation part of the thrill.
As they kissed, lips and tongues raising each other’s passion, Ash slid his hand along Delphine’s body from her hip, trailing into the dip of her waist, then up to her breasts, pulling his upper body away a little so that he could not only feel, but also see, those firm yet gently curved breasts, a dark aureola surrounding her pink nipples. The touch was exquisite, the sight beautiful. He ran his fingers lightly over them, feeling the raised nipple inside the palm of his hand.
She drew in a quick breath, then sighed with both contentment and expectation. His tongue moistened one nipple, so that she arched her back, pushing her hips against him. Without giving in to the desire coursing through him – he was so hard he felt it might burst – he breathed softly on her nipples, stopping occasionally to moisten them once more so that the air he exhaled stimulated her even more.
Delphine pulled his head tight against her breast so that he engulfed much of it with his mouth, his tongue still working tantalizingly. She moved his lips over to her other breast, and by now his manipulation was becoming wilder, so much more intense. Now it was her hand that glided down his lean body, over his chest, his stomach and then, even lower. Her delicate fingers encircled him and it was he who gave out a little cry of ecstasy. Steadily she stroked, more insistent, more strongly, until he forced himself to stay her hand before his passion overwhelmed him.
He chuckled at her look of surprise.
She smiled. ‘Sorry,’ she said, but he could see passion still burned within her, as a red flush spread like a bib over her light coffee-coloured chest, just below her throat and between her breasts.
He pulled her round so she was underneath him.
‘David, please . . .’ she gasped, for she needed him inside her more than anything else in the world.
Ash understood precisely what Delphine wanted, for he wanted the same.
Gently, he pulled away just enough to allow his fingers to roam her flat stomach, feeling her tense suddenly as they skimmed over the lower muscles of her abdomen. He reached the thick, black and wiry curls of her pubic hair, the edges so neat they looked trimmed, a smallish V-shape that seemed to point the way. His fingers ran through it and he felt her body tense.
He knew, and Delphine knew, that what was about to happen would affect their lives. Ash gave himself in to her submission. He dipped his fingers into the wet cleft between her thighs, and he was both surprised and delighted at Delphine’s dampness, for her arousal was evident. Then, through his own desire to please her, Ash made a mistake.
His lips were kissing the elegant curve of her smooth neck and they moved down further, taking in the nipple of one breast, before moving across to the other. She moaned with the joy of it. He sunk lower and she arched her neck from the pillow, moving her face from side to side in sweet agony.
Ash sunk lower, moving his tongue into the dark thicket of curled hair . . .
And that was when she froze. He stopped, dismayed. She tried to push his shoulders away from her.
‘Delphine . . . ?’ He lifted his head to look at her face.
‘I’m sorry, David. I’m sorry.’ A tear formed in the corner of one eye and slid across her temple into the hair above her ear.
Ash couldn’t understand, but then something occurred to him. He raised himself on one elbow so he could look into her eyes. ‘Is it because of Nurse Krantz?’ He’d put the question bluntly, but gently, with no trace of anger or even distaste.
She averted her eyes, turning her face deep into the plump pillow.
He’d made a guess, based on suspicion, because of the way Rachael Krantz reacted to him whenever they met, especially when Delphine was with him – the spite in her eyes, the straight firmness of her mouth, the chill of the atmosphere between them. Of course. It was jealousy, hatred even. But had she and Delphine . . . ?
He laid his head on the pillow and gently pulled Delphine’s face round to his own. Ash was an excellent observer; he could easily read other people’s moods, usually guessing rightly anything that was worrying them. It was one of the reasons he was so good at his job: his ‘intuition’.
‘What was it that made you stop, Delphine? What did I do that was so wrong for you?’
‘Oh David.’ She tried to turn away from him, but he held her face with the soft palm of his hand. ‘If only I could make you understand . . .’ She left the sentence unfinished.
Afterwards, they lay naked beneath the bedsheets, pleasantly exhausted.
‘Delphine, I know it’s none of my business, but do you want to tell me about Nurse Krantz?’
He smiled, and kept his voice soothing so that she would understand nothing else mattered between them. ‘It’s obvious she hates me, and I have a good idea why. What I don’t know is what’s happened between you. But, believe me, nothing you can tell me will make me love you less.’
There, he’d said it. Now it was up to her.
Her eyes widened and brimmed with more tears that made the pupils sparkle. She blinked and the tears spilled over, but there were no sobs, just silent weeping. Ash sensed the latent fear behind it.
‘It’s okay,’ he told her. ‘I promise, whatever went on between you two makes no difference to me. None at all.’
‘It isn’t what you think. Rachael and me.’
‘You don’t know what I think.’ He gave a small laugh.
She went on apprehensively, still concerned at what his reaction would be. ‘My father died after a long battle with cancer over a year ago. I was distraught on the day Rachael Krantz came to tell me he was gone and, in fact, had been buried two days earlier. I was . . .’ Delphine shook her head, unable to find the right words. ‘I suppose my feelings – my distress, alone, angry – all of it was overwhelming. I collapsed to the floor in a kind of faint. Next thing, I found myself lying on my bed. Rachael had carried me there.’
Ash could easily believe the sturdy senior nurse capable of lifting Delphine’s slight figure.
‘I awoke crying, crying like I never had before. I’m sure I was in hysterics and, of course, as a nurse, Rachael knew how to calm me down. She held me, one hand stroking my hair, her other arm around my back rocking me gently as she soothed me with comforting words. And I clung on to her, the thought of having no one left in the world to return my love frightened me. Rachael kissed my cheek, not in a sexual way, but tenderly, like a sister, protective and caring, and I gave in to it. And I allowed her kisses to continue, until they slowly became anything but sisterly.
‘I didn’t resist, David. She kissed me and I kissed her back, hard, desperately, passionately, because I had no one else to turn to and my grief had made me weak, physically and emotionally weak, and I had no resolve, nothing left. I only wanted to be loved. By anyone. Even Rachael.
‘Soon her hand was inside my blouse and it felt like fire, but exquisite fire,
as she touched my breast. For a moment I tried to stop her, but I was weak, drained. I had no strength left. Besides, I wanted her. Her hand moved to my waist and suddenly we were lying down, together, kissing . . .’
Delphine’s head was now downcast. A little shakily, he had to admit, Ash touched her chin with his fingertips and brought her face up so they could look each other in the eye.
‘Delphine, there’s no shame in what you’ve done,’ he said consolingly. ‘You were in grief, bereft, confused. You’d just heard you’d lost your father, so how could you not look for some comfort, friendship too? A shoulder to cry on. It was unfortunate that it was Krantz who first told you and you were both alone in this room. Hell, Delphine, you’re a psychologist – you should know. You’re crazy to beat yourself up over one incident.’
‘You don’t understand,’ she answered. ‘That night I went back to Rachael’s room, and we . . . we spent the night together. I was desperate – for company, or for something more, I don’t know. Anything to push my father’s death to the back of my mind.’
‘And she took advantage of it.’
Delphine shook her head firmly. ‘No, I can’t blame Rachael. I knew what I was doing. The difference was, though, I never wanted – never want – to do it again. Rachael couldn’t understand why I deliberately ignored her. She still doesn’t, that’s the problem.’
‘Sounds as if it’s Senior Nurse Krantz who’s got the problem.’ Ash grinned. ‘Delphine, forget about her. And please don’t worry, it makes no difference at all to me.’
And with that he drew her back towards him once again, one arm encircling her shoulders. He kissed her lightly at first, and when she responded more urgently, he kissed her with greater force, all thoughts of Krantz gone, vanquished. All he could think of at that moment was Delphine, not just her body in all its beautiful nakedness, but her mind, her very soul, and she was reaching for him, her hand running over his shoulders, fingers running down his spine, further, slipping her arm over his hip to reach between them, finding him again, so strong, so hardened that she could no longer wait.