Guardian: Book One

Chapter 8

  “Alexandra, wake up!”

  I heard him call to me in the distance of the dreamless expanse where my mind drifted.

  “Alexandra, I need you to get up now!” His voice called to me again, the urgency jarring me back to consciousness.

  I opened my eyes to a dark, quiet room. The storm had passed. Donovan was still there.

  “Alexandra, you need to get up. There is someone in the house,” he pleaded.

  My mind whirled and I noticed his warmth on my face as I considered his words. I shot up in the bed, my pulse quickening, when the weight of them finally registered.

  “What?” I gasped.

  “Ssshhh,” he whispered, “be very quiet and listen carefully to what I say. You are the only one who can hear me. I’ll guide you through this. You stay quiet and follow my voice. We need to get you out of the house. Can you do that for me?”

  I nodded my head and stood as quietly as I could trying to control my breathing. Is this really happening?

  “Good, now you need to open the door as silently as possible. Stay as close to my voice as you can.” His tone was calm, steady.

  I crept to the door. The only light for which to navigate came from the moonlight that seeped in between the slats of the closed blinds. I turned the knob as slowly as I could with shaking hands and opened the door. I prayed that it would not squeak. When it didn’t, I mouthed a silent “thank you” and waited for Donovan’s instructions.

  “Good, now wait right there until I tell you to come out into the hallway,” his voice sounded from the hall in front of me.

  I stood frozen in the doorway. The darkness beyond was thick and oppressive. My hearing became heightened by the lack of sight and I searched the darkened house for sounds of movement. That’s when I heard it. A slight shuffling came from down the hall. I couldn’t tell where exactly it was coming from. I stifled a scream and willed my heart to stop pounding, the sound of its rapid thumping was sure to give me away.

  Slow, heavy footsteps came into the hallway from one of the rooms and just as quickly disappeared into another. The intruder was either in the hallway bathroom or in my old room. I couldn’t tell which. Were they looking for me? The thought made my legs tremble. I couldn’t breathe.

  “Now!” Donovan called from just outside the room. “Get down the hallway as fast as you can without making a sound. Stay to the right and don’t stop. Follow my voice.”

  I hesitated, unable to make my legs move forward.

  “Now Alexandra. You have to trust me. Go now!”

  I bolted noiselessly into the hallway, arms outstretched, and found the far wall. Making my way shakily towards the stairs, I kept my footsteps careful but fast and following Donovan’s voice.

  “That’s good. Just keep moving. Quickly. You’re almost there,” he called from just ahead of me.

  As I passed in front of the two rooms I heard a shuffling from within one of them. I stopped, fear nailing me to the floor where I stood. I tried to adjust my vision. A dark figure moved in the bathroom and I fixed my eyes on it and held my breath. I knew I had to keep moving, but I couldn’t find the courage to do anything but stand there, rendered immobile by panic.

  “Keep moving Alexandra. No, don’t stop,” Donovan cried out.

  His words jarred me to attention and I broke out into a silent run towards the stairs. But it was too late. The figure turned in the doorway and lunged after me. I screamed and dodged the hands that clutched at me.

  “Run Alexandra, this way!” Donovan yelled and led me to the staircase.

  At the bottom of the stairs the intruder dove at me, grasping my ankle and flinging me face- down to the floor. The pain was acute and I screamed and kicked against the hand that squeezed my ankle like a vice, but I had no impact. My attacker began to drag me back up the stairs towards him. I clawed at the carpet, frantically trying to get away.

  “Donovan!” I cried out and tried desperately to grab onto something, anything.

  “Kick him, Alexandra!” he yelled to me and I kicked my right leg as hard as I could.

  The figure reeled back and I yanked my ankle free. The figure lunged at me again and this time grabbed onto my calf. He tried again to drag me back up towards him, but as he reached forward for my thigh he was yanked backward with violent force.

  When he reached again he caught me by the same ankle. I cried out in pain and flipped onto my back and kicked as hard as I could with my free leg. In the darkness I saw a head, cloaked in black, writhing as he tried to lunge for me but was held back. He reached for me with his free hand over and over, gaining a little space with each angered thrust forward. I sat up and pried at the fingers that gripped me. The hand was covered with a leather glove.

  A new terror consumed me as I remembered the gloved hands that had reached for me from the front seat of our mangled car all those years ago. The same evil . . .

  “Use your nails!” Donovan’s labored voice yelled from above me on the stairs.

  I clawed at the arm above the gloved hand, which held steadfast like a bear trap on my leg and dug into flesh until I felt moisture beneath my fingernails. With a squeal the hand released its grip enough for me to kick free.

  “Run Alexandra! Find help. I can’t hold him much longer!”

  Stumbling to my feet, I raced to the front door. The breath was knocked from my lungs when I slammed into something solid and I swung my arms out, ready to defend myself. My hands gripped the piano and with relief I struggled to straighten up and get a breath. The reflection cast into its surface by a single ray of moonlight from the window made me pause. Donovan was at the top of the stairs. He was bent over, gripping the intruder’s leg with both hands, holding him back with all his might, the veins in his muscular arms popping. The black figure struggled and writhed beneath him.

  “Go! I can’t hold him,” Donovan screamed to me and I turned and ran for the front door.

  When I tried the knob it turned but the door did not budge. I struggled to release the deadbolt, the panic making my movements clumsy. Finally throwing the door open, I ran as fast as my legs would allow down the driveway and into the street. I looked both ways, searching for someone, anyone who could call the police. It was late enough that not one porch light remained lit and there were no signs of life anywhere.

  Running down the street in the direction of town, I spotted a squad car parked under a street light. My bare feet scraped against the cold pavement as I ran towards it, not daring to look back. Please let someone be in the car, I prayed. As I got closer to the cruiser I heard footsteps running behind me. They were running towards me. Crying out on terror, I sped up, frantic to get to the cruiser. When I reached it there was no one inside.

  “No!” I screamed, running around to the back of the car, hoping against hope that one of the doors would be unlocked. None of them were.

  The footsteps grew louder as they got closer. Frantic, I looked back up the street and saw a porch light come on a few houses back up the way I had come. Knowing I would never make it to the station, I took off from the car towards the lighted porch.

  I only made it a few steps when I ran head-on into someone. I screamed again, arms flailing, and tried to get around them even as they grabbed at my arms. They were too strong, I knew I could not get free.

  “Alex, it’s me! It’s okay!” Will said, attempting to calm me. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

  I took in the crisp Saluda Police uniform, then looked into Will’s concerned face and stopped struggling. Peering around him, I watched the street but didn’t see anyone coming after me. I looked back up at Will and finally collapsed, a sobbing mess, into is arms.

  “He’s in the house . . . he attacked me.”

  “Ssshhh, it’s okay now. Who was in the house? Who attacked you?”

  “I . . . I don’t know. He had on a mask.”

  Will held me out at arms length and looked me over. “Are you hurt anywhere?”


  I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Good,” he said looking me in the eyes. “Is he still in the house?”

  “I don’t know. It was so dark. He was . . . stuck when I got away. By the stairs . . . he could still be in there.”

  I finally caught my breath, but couldn’t keep my eyes off of the house. Where was Donovan? Was my attacker still being held off by him? Will unlocked the patrol car and reached in for the radio.

  “Galia to station,” he said holding down the button.

  “Go ahead,” a male voice answered back from the console.

  “I’m going to need some backup at 127 Baker Street for a B&E and assault. Ring the Chief, he’s going to want to come right away. Over.” Will dropped the radio and turned back to me.

  “Okay, get in the car. I’m going to go have a look. You’ll be safe in here. I’ll leave the keys, if you see anyone come out of the house other than me, lean on the horn. Understand?” he said and took his gun from its holster on his belt.

  “What?” I shrieked. “You can’t go in there by yourself! Just wait for Uncle Sulley . . . or one of the others.”

  Will gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze and then motioned me into the car.

  “If I wait, we may never know who it was. If they haven’t already bolted out the back, I may be able to detain him,” he explained. “Do not move from this car.”

  “Will . . .” I tried to argue, but he shut the door and motioned for me to lock the doors and then he jogged towards the house shouting to the concerned neighbor to go back inside.

  I watched as he disappeared around the bushes in front of the driveway.

  “Please let him be okay. Please let him be okay,” I whispered, eyes glued to the house.

  “He’ll be fine Alexandra,” Donovan panted from the back seat.

  I jumped and whirled around but saw no one, though I could hear the slow strumming and knew that Donovan was there. Breathing in the relief, I looked into the rear view mirror. He smiled weakly.

  “Are you sure he’ll be okay?”

  “Whoever it was,” he breathed, “ran out the back door as soon as you got out. I couldn’t hold him any longer. I sensed you were out of danger as soon as he ran.”

  “Thank you,” I said, relieved. “Thank you for getting me out of there before . . .”

  “You don’t have to thank me. This is why I am here,” he said looking me in the eyes so I could see he was serious. He took a shallow, labored breath. “But Alexandra, you have to trust me. You hesitated, and that’s why he saw you. I can only interfere so much. You have to listen to me, and trust what I say if I am to protect you.”

  I nodded, frustrated with myself. “I know, I panicked. I froze. Wait . . . are you okay?”

  In the mirror I could see Donovan struggle to sit up. Sweat beaded at his brow.

  “When I interact with the physical realm, it takes more strength. It drains my energy quickly. I’m not meant to be a part of your world, only to guide you through it. Next time you have to do exactly as I say,” he warned.

  “Next time?” I croaked, my heart back in my throat. “There’s going to be a next time?”

  “I’m afraid this was only the beginning,” he whispered.

  Donovan laid his hand on my shoulder and I felt the warmth of his touch – not like the familiar touch of another person, flesh on flesh, which is felt on the surface. When he touched me I felt the warmth permeate my skin, my muscles. His warmth I felt from the inside.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked.

  “I trust you.”

  “I told you, I’m not going to let anything happen to you Alexandra.”

  I looked deep into his eyes and could see emotion flowing in them on an ocean of topaz. I could see his concern, his care for me, and I knew that he spoke the truth. He would protect me at all costs.

  “I believe you.”

 

  Up the road, the glare of headlights flashed as they turned into my driveway. The rumble of a large engine let me know that Sulley had arrived. I looked into the mirror at Donovan.

  “Go, the danger has passed. But listen for me, I’ll be right there with you,” he said.

  I got out of the car and for the first time noticed the stinging cold of the night air on my bare arms.

  “Next time I’m attacked by a maniac, I’ll have to remember to grab my robe,” I whispered into the night and I ran for the house.

  My ankle was sore and stiff, but the pain wasn’t enough of a concern to stop me. When I made it up the driveway I saw Sulley, fully dressed in jeans and a heavy flannel, on the porch questioning Will. He looked tired.

  “She safe. She’s in my squad car up the street. I told her to honk if she saw anyone at all. The house is clear, but Chief, you have to come see this,” Will was saying.

  “See what?” I asked running up the porch steps.

  Sulley searched me with his eyes, surveying me from head to toe. Then he hugged me to him tightly. I met Will’s scowling eyes.

  “I told you to stay in the car.”

  “It’s okay,” Sulley said and then let me go. “Are you hurt?”

  “My ankle is a little sore from where he grabbed me, but other than that I think I’m good thanks to . . .” I stopped myself short. There was no way I could tell them about Donovan. They would think I was crazy for sure. Hell, a part of me might still agree with them.

  “ . . . one hell of a survival instinct.” Sulley finished for me. He looked impressed, but then turned serious as he looked me in the eyes. “Do you have any idea who it was?”

  “I wish I did,” I sighed.

  “Uhm Chief, I really think you should come upstairs and look at this. Might give you some idea of who we are dealing with here,” Will said motioning him inside.

  Sulley turned and followed Will into the house and I followed after them. All of the lights were on, making the events of the last hour seem like nothing more than a bad dream. When we reached the foot of the stairs I stared at the spot where my attacker had gotten hold of me and shuddered.

  “I don’t think she should see this,” Will said turning to Sulley.

  “No, I want to see,” I protested and continued up the stairs. I met Will’s concerned glare. “It’s my house, I have the right to know what he did to it.”

  “Suit yourself,” he said and led us through the upstairs hall.

  The lights were on upstairs and I could see nothing out of place. Will passed the first bedroom and motioned us toward the bathroom beyond. Sulley went inside and I hung back in order to gauge his reaction.

  “What in the hell?” he said.

  My curiosity got the better of me and I stepped into the room with them. At first I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. The towels hadn’t been touched and the shower curtain was drawn back, exposing nothing strange in the shower. I looked at both Sulley and Will confused and then followed their gazes to the bathroom mirror. There, written in black marker was a message:

  You are just like her, Whore. Leave or you will die just like her!

  I gasped and covered my mouth with my hands, trying to force the bile rising in my throat back.

  “Why would someone write something like this? Much less break in here to do it?” Sulley asked.

  I could only stare at the mirror in horror. Through it, I saw Donovan step into the room. He held my eyes with his.

  “I was just wondering the same thing.” Will shook his head.

  There was a commotion on the stairs as two officers emerged and joined us in the small room.

  “Jones, I’ll need you to get a picture of this for a handwriting analysis, and check for prints. Conley, check all the doors and windows for signs of forced entry,” Sulley ordered.

  “Yes Chief,” they nodded and got to work.

  “You won’t find any prints,” I said still in shock. “He was wearing gloves, leather, just like that night . . .”

  Su
lley looked at Will. “I’m getting her out of here. Come on outside.” He motioned us out of the room.

  I broke my gaze from the mirror and ran into my room to grab my robe before following Sulley and Will to the outside porch. I sat on the swing while Sulley questioned me. Will leaned on the banister to the side, deep in contemplation.

  “Were both doors locked?” Sulley asked.

  I sighed. “I don’t know for sure. When I ran out of the house I had to undo the deadbolt on the front door, so I know that one was locked. But I don’t know for sure about the back door. I’ve never even checked it. It could have been unlocked this whole time.”

  “Did you see anyone else as you were running from the house?”

  “No, there was no one around at all. Then I saw Will’s squad car and I ran for that, then I bumped into Will.”

  Sulley turned to Will.

  “What exactly were you doing out here at this hour anyway?” Sulley asked, suspicion thick in his tone.

  Will repositioned himself against the banister. “I was just running a patrol of the area. Then I heard screaming coming from the house so I went to check it out. The front door was locked so I was making my way around back when I heard another scream and saw her taking off towards the street. I ran after her to see what the hell was going on.”

  “You were patrolling at one am?”

  Will stood tall and looked Sulley in the eye. “Hell, you know I don’t sleep. I was just making the rounds.”

  “The rounds?” Sulley scoffed.

  “I was taking a drive, clearing my head. It’s not like there are a ton of neighborhoods to choose from, Chief,” Will retaliated.

  “Well, I for one am glad you were here when you were,” I offered.

  Sulley sighed and rubbed his temple before turning his attention back to me.

  “Is there anything else you can remember about this perp? Height? Weight? Hair color?”

  I shook my head. “I told you, it was dark and he had on a mask.” I wrapped the robe more tightly around myself then looked into Sulley’s worried face. “It’s the same man isn’t it? The one who killed Mom and Gary. He’s back isn’t he? Only this time he wants to finish the job.”

  Sulley sat next to me on the swing and put his arm around me and hugged me to him. Will watched intently from where he leaned.

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions just yet. We don’t know who did this. It could be anyone,” Sulley said.

  “But that message . . . Whoever wrote that on the mirror had it out for Mom. I don’t get it. Why would anyone want to hurt her? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  Will sighed and shook his head and looked off into the distance.

  “If this is the same person, that would mean that their murder was not just some robbery attempt or random act of violence,” he said. “It would mean it was planned, premeditated.”

  “It would also mean that they’ve been here this whole time, all these years,” I whispered.

  “Or that they’ve come back,” Will agreed.

  “But why? Who would have been angry at Mom? She never did anything to hurt anyone. And why would they call her . . . a whore? That doesn’t make any sense. None of this makes any sense.”

  I searched my memory, but I couldn’t remember there ever being a time when my mother had done anything but make people smile.

  “We can’t be certain that this is the same person. It could just be someone trying to scare you away,” Sulley said.

  “Away from what?” Will asked.

  “Could it have something to do with what Gram said about Rick?” I said recalling her strange reaction earlier.

  “Rick Brightman?” Sulley asked confused.

  I stood and faced them both. “The first day I was here a white truck sped past the driveway while I was walking to the station. It was the same truck that I saw Rick drive away in after church. It’s the same truck that took off down the dirt road when I came up on it walking home from your house yesterday. I thought it was strange that he would be parked up that street, but he had a clear view of the house from there. Could he have been watching me?”

  “Why didn’t you say anything about this before?” Sulley asked, astonished at my revelation.

  “I only just thought of it,” I confessed. “And Gram said something today about Mom having bought the house from his mother? Could that have something to do with it?”

  Sulley was lost for a moment in thought. He paced the porch a ways before finally stopping in front of me again.

  “I suppose it could actually. Your mother was only able to afford this house because they were forced to foreclose on it. The bank auctioned it off. She was the only buyer. I co-signed on the loan.”

  “Maybe they didn’t want to sell the house and Mom was in their way. Maybe he wants it back? Could he be scaring me into selling it?” I asked.

  Sulley nodded. We might be getting somewhere, I thought.

  “Rick’s working up at the elementary school; I just signed on all the permits. I’m going to ride up there tomorrow and have a chat with him.”

  “I’m going with you,” I said.

  “The hell you are,” Sulley argued. “I’m not so sure you shouldn’t get on the next plane out of here at this point. This makes two incidents now that have been too close for comfort.”

  I took a deep breath, surprised by the rage that welled up from my gut. A sudden urgency replaced all fear. Taking a step towards Sulley, I squared my shoulders.

  “I ran from this bastard fifteen years ago when he took my parents from me. I won’t run this time,” I breathed.

  Sulley sighed and looked down at his feet. “You didn’t run; you were ten years old. I knew it was best that you leave here, so that you could move on with your life. I was protecting you then, just like I am now.”

  I stood firm. “I’m not leaving. Mom wanted this to be my home, and I am not leaving it. Not this time. Take me with you to see Brightman. Either I go with you or I’ll find some other way up there myself.”

  “Alexandra no . . .” I heard Donovan whisper against my ear. I took a step back.

  “I’ll take her.” Will spoke up from where he leaned against the railing.

  Sulley spun on him. “You stay out of this.”

  “She’s our only witness to any of this. I think she should go.”

  Sulley shook his head and let out a loud breath, contemplating. The two officers from inside stepped onto the porch. Sulley looked up, obviously thankful for the distraction.

  “No signs of forced entry Chief, and no prints. All the windows are locked up, but the back door was ajar. Probably how the perp left it when he ran. Either that door was unlocked when he came in, or he had a key,” Conley reported.

  Sulley looked at me. “I can’t remember if it was locked up before you got here. Haven’t had a need to lock anything around here before. This could all be my fault.”

  “No,” I argued. “I never checked it, it’s my fault. Although . . . would Rick still have a key? I mean, have the locks been changed since he and his family lived here?”

  “No, they’ve never been changed. Like I said, never had a reason to worry about that kind of thing before.”

  “Well you have a reason now,” Will sighed.

  “Either way, you’re coming home with me tonight until I can get these locks changed in the morning. It’s not safe for you here,” Sulley said.

  I shook my head. “No, I want to stay. I’ll lock up tight, I promise. There are only a few hours till morning anyway. You have Gram to think about. You said it yourself; it’s best if I wasn’t there, remember?”

  “This is more important than that just now. We’re just going to have to take our chances that she’ll be fine.”

  “No, Uncle Sulley. I’ll be fine. I can’t upset Gram again,” I protested. Sulley stepped toward me to insist, but Will stepped up between us.

  “I’ll stay,” he said.

  “I don’t think so,” Sulley growled. “And
just why in the hell are you so eager to help all of the sudden?”

  “Because you are being too protective to use your head!” Will shouted. “If the perp comes back, I can be here to intercept. We’ll catch the guy!”

  I stepped between them, arms raised. “Fighting isn’t going to solve anything right now. I am staying here, in my house, and that is final. I won’t upset Gram again.”

  Will sighed and took a step back. “Look, she’s right. There’s only a few hours till daylight and I doubt the guy will try anything again tonight. And if he does, I’ll be right here waiting for him.”

  Sulley looked at me and I shrugged. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of being assigned a babysitter, but if it meant I could stay home then so be it. He let out a deep breath and stared me in the eyes as he considered, the frustration evident on his face. He finally dropped his shoulders in defeat and turned to Will.

  “Okay, Mr. Helpful, you stay,” he said and then turned to the other officers. “You two. Jones, you keep watch from your cruiser. I want you patrolling the street. Call me if you see anyone, and I mean ANYONE suspicious. Conley, you get back to the station and log those pictures. I want to run that hand writing analysis in the morning.”

  “Yes Chief,” they both answered and got into their vehicles.

  “Will doesn’t have to stay. I don’t need a babysitter,” I said, knowing my argument was futile but still wanting to try.

  “He stays, and that’s final,” Sulley said and patted me on the shoulder.

  “And if I don’t want him to?”

  “Now THAT would be a moot point,” he winked and then walked down the porch stairs.

  I rolled my eyes and huffed as Sulley opened the door of his truck and then turned to Will and I.

  “I’ll be back in the morning to pick you up, Kiddo. You and I will go see Brightman together,” he said, earning a smile from me. Then he pointed to Will. “You hear anything unusual, you call it in.”

  “Got it,” Will answered and waved as Sulley pulled out of the driveway.

  Will turned to me with a wink. “Looks like we get to have a sleepover. Let’s make popcorn and then we can take turns painting one another’s toenails.”

  Rolling my eyes, I went into the house and let the screen door slam in his face as he turned to follow me.

  “What? I’m lightening the mood,” he said and followed me inside and locking both the knob and the deadbolt behind him. He walked to the back door and did the same.

  I went into the kitchen and got down a glass. I poured myself a small amount of wine and slung it back just as Will walked in.

  “Do you want a glass?” I offered.

  Will stared at the bottle in my hand for a second and then swallowing hard, shrugged his shoulders. “I’m on duty remember?”

  “Right.” I said pouring more into my glass.

  “Go easy on that,” he said. “I’m going to need you to stay coherent.”

  I took another sip. “I’m calming my nerves. Plus, I have one hell of a headache. I’m just going to finish this glass, that’s it.”

  He seemed satisfied with my answer and rubbed his hands together.

  “Right, so first thing’s first. Do you have any nail polish remover?”

  I raised an eyebrow over my glass. “I’m not painting your toenails.”

  “Ha, very funny,” he scoffed. “I was going to get that marker off the mirror upstairs. You shouldn’t have to look at that.”

  “Isn’t it evidence?” I asked.

  “We have pictures of it and no prints were found. Unless you like it there . . . I mean, it’s not to my taste, but it does rather match the black hardware in there. Up to you.”

  “All joking aside, just why ARE you being so helpful?” I asked. “No offense or anything, but you’ve always sort of struck me as kind of a jerk. Or at least that’s how you seem to want to come off. Why the Mr. Nice Guy act?”

  Will shrugged and looked away. I knew I had struck a nerve.

  “Because you never asked for any of this. You’ve already been through enough for one lifetime. And believe it or not, I can have a heart.” He clenched his fists. “And because your mom was always patient and nice to me, even when I gave her hell. I owe her one.”

  His eyes were a dark well of emotion and I believed he was sincere. There was a lot more to Will Galia than I had ever thought and I caught myself wondering just how deep the well went.

  “Okay then,” I said breaking away from his glare. “I have some polish remover in my bag upstairs.”

  I kept my eyes averted when we passed the upstairs bathroom never wanting to see those horrific words again. Will turned to go in and I continued into my room. My feelings bounced between fear and dread to overwhelming anger and rage. The wine was beginning to help calm me, but my head was spinning in a thousand directions. Had my mother’s murderer been here in Saluda all along? Had I seen him? Passed him on the street? Spoken with him?

  I reached into my bag and when I emerged with the polish remover I caught Donovan’s image in the mirror. He looked down on me, a worried expression on his salient face.

  “Be careful,” he warned.

  I glanced behind me to make sure I was alone. “Why, do you sense something? Is the man who broke in coming back?”

  “What did you say?” Will called from the bathroom.

  “Nothing!” I shouted toward the hallway and then looked back to Donovan questioningly.

  “No. I don’t think you are in any immediate danger. But I do sense . . . something, about him.” Donovan nodded toward the hall. “You shouldn’t get too close. Something is off.”

  “What . . . Will?” I began to ask but then stopped short when Will’s image appeared in the mirror as he came to stand in the bedroom doorway. I looked from Donovan’s image to Will’s, waiting for a reaction from Will, my words caught in my throat.

  “Did you find any?” Will asked, oblivious.

  I took a breath, relieved. Of course Will couldn’t see Donovan, I should have known.

  “Here,” I said and tossed him the polish remover.

  “Can I use one of the towels in there?”

  “Sure, whatever you need. I don’t use that bathroom. Just get it off however you can.”

  Will turned and went back down the hall. I looked back to the mirror at Donovan who stood with his arms crossed against the wall by the doorway next to me. Shrugging at him, I grabbed a pillow and blanket from the bed, then reached for one of my books and went into the hall. I paused by the bathroom, but didn’t look in.

  “Is it working?”

  “Yeah. It’s definitely permanent marker, but I think because it’s not that old, it’s coming right off with a little elbow grease.”

  “That’s good,” I said relieved. “I’ve got a pillow and blanket for you. I’m going to put them on the couch.”

  Downstairs, I set the pillow on one side of the couch and the blanket on the other and tossed the book in the center. Then going back into the kitchen, I finished off the glass of wine. I was exhausted, mentally and physically. Too much had happened in too little time and my brain was struggling to keep up. Will came back into the kitchen as I was resting my aching body against the counter, waiting for the wine to numb away what it could.

  “You don’t look so good,” he said and leaned on the counter beside me.

  “Again with the flattery.” I smiled.

  “No, I mean it. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m just tired,” I sighed. “I think I’m going to try and get some sleep. I don’t know how possible that’s going to be though.”

  “Yeah, you should get some rest,” he said. “Don’t worry about anything. I’m right by the doors. I’ll hear if anyone tries to come back in. Jones is right out there on the road too. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “Thank you,” I said. I wanted to correct him, to tell him that I had everything to worry about. My mother’s murderer was out there somewhere, near
by, and that thought alone threatened my very sanity.

  “Help yourself to anything in here if you’re hungry,” I said. “Sorry I don’t have a T.V. or anything to help you pass the time. I put one of my books on the couch for you. Best I could do, sorry. I hadn’t really planned on staying here very long.”

  “Thanks. Those look like Gram’s cookies over there. You may be missing a few in the morning,” he smirked. “And don’t worry about me. I can occupy myself.”

  “See you in a few then,” I said and started out of the kitchen.

  “So how about now?” Will asked before I made it out of the room. I turned and met his waiting gaze.

  “What do you mean?”

  “How long do you plan on staying now?” He asked.

  “Now . . . I can’t imagine leaving,” I said and walked out of the kitchen. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Will smile.

  Upstairs, I went to my room and shutting the door, looked into the mirror. There was no sign of Donovan, which was fine. It gave me some time alone to think. I sat on the bed and let the events of the night hit me.

  Sulley thought that the attacker from tonight might be a different person from that night fifteen years ago, but I knew better. Even if Donovan hadn’t warned me of this “same evil”, I would have known. Those gloved hands that had come after me were the same; the furious determination to hurt me was the same.

  I rolled up my pajama leg and exposed my tender ankle. The fingerprints, red and swollen were throbbing from where the intruder had gripped me. The skin there was turning a sickly shade of yellow and purple. Reaching up, I touched my forehead, about two inches from the hair line, and rubbed the now small scar that still resided there. This was twice now that I had escaped his grasp.

  A tear fell from my eye and I wiped at it with the back of my hand. I didn’t know if I was more afraid or enraged. I thought about what Donovan had said earlier that night, that I had to see this thing through, and wondered what he meant by it. My thoughts were broken when I felt his warmth on my ankle. The pain soothed and relaxed. I closed my eyes and heard the gentle strumming and let the ache melt away.

  “You knew something was going to happen, didn’t you?” I asked into the empty room “I saw it on your face tonight.”

  “I sensed it. I couldn’t know for sure,” Donovan answered next to my ear.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, then opened my eyes and looked into the mirror. He was sitting on the bed beside me, his hand on my ankle.

  “Because like I said, I am not meant to interfere, only to guide.”

  “And protect right?”

  “That’s right. And sometimes that means NOT telling you something.”

  “You want me to trust you. How can I do that if you aren’t telling me everything?” I asked confused.

  “Because you have to. You have to trust that if I’m not telling you something, it’s for a reason.” he sighed and lifted his eyes to mine in the mirror.

  I looked away. “Am I going to find out who killed my parents?”

  “I hope so.”

  “Do you think it’s Brightman?”

  “It’s a possibility. That’s why I’m not fond of you going out there to speak with him tomorrow.”

  I looked back into the mirror at his concerned expression.

  “I have to go. If it’s him, maybe I’ll know. Maybe this whole nightmare could finally be over. Uncle Sulley will be with me, and you. I’m not afraid.”

  Donovan shook his head. “That’s what worries me the most.”

  There was nothing to say. I knew that I should be afraid, and a part of me was. Someone out there wanted to hurt me or worse, the same person who brutally murdered my parents. But there was a new fear growing inside me that overshadowed all of that. I was terrified that he would go free, that he would never pay for what he had done. That I would never know who he was.

  For the past fifteen years I had lived with the belief that this man would never be found and the pain of that knowledge was almost as bad as the pain of losing everything. Now he had resurfaced, and my desperate need for justice now outweighed all other fears of this monster.

  “You need to get some rest,” Donovan said.

  “That’s what you said this evening and I was attacked a few hours later.”

  Donovan nodded his head, sorrow showing in his demeanor. I immediately regretted the remark. He had saved my life again tonight and for that I was grateful to him. The words to express how glad I was that he was here evaded me. I hoped he knew, even though the anger boiling inside me kept me from being able to say them.

  “And for that I am truly sorry Alexandra,” he whispered. “But I can promise that no harm will come to you again tonight. You should sleep.”

  Sighing, I switched off the light and laid my head down on the pillow and wrapped my robe more tightly around my body, not relaxed enough to get into the covers. There was no denying how exhausted I was. If I could only quiet my mind enough to sleep.

  “Donovan?” I whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me about where you . . . live. Where you are when you’re not with me here.”

  “You want me to describe where I was sent from. Where I exist in the spiritual realm as well as here with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s hard to explain to someone who has never seen.” He sighed.

  “Try, please.”

  Donovan took a deep breath as he searched for the words. “It is filled with light, a brightness unlike anything in this world.”

  “Are there more there? Like you?”

  “There is no one else with me here, though I can feel the presence of many. I can feel Him.”

  “So you’re all alone up there?”

  “Not exactly. It’s so hard to explain,” he struggled to continue. “For me, every moment is with you: seeing you, being here with you, it’s all that matters. Not what’s come before, not what will come after. It’s as if I’ve only ever been with you.”

  I felt my blood warm with his words, my mind wandered through my life’s memories. I could remember feeling him with me. Since the baptism, he had been a part of my life. Until the day my mother had died.

  “Why did you leave me when she died?” I asked, tears forming anew in my weary eyes.

  The strumming grew louder against my ear. I felt his warmth on my arm.

  “I never left,” he whispered. “I’ve been with you this whole time, always. You just needed to come back here, to your home . . . to remember me, to remember who you are, to see that the accident doesn’t have to define you and your reality. I’ve always been with you.”

  My eyes filled with fresh tears and I wiped them with the corner of my pillow as I thought back. All this time I had believed that I was alone, that I was wandering through this life on my own. How wrong I had been. If only I had seen it earlier, maybe I would have had the courage to come back home sooner.

  All the years I had missed with Gram came to mind. I should have been here to help take care of her. How many more moments could I have had where she recognized me? And Donovan. Now that I had found him again, I couldn’t imagine how I could have ever forgotten him, especially when he had never forgotten me.

  My mind swam in the space between memories, fading more with each one. In each memory I visited I heard the soft, gently strumming, playing like the score in the background of my life.

  “Sleep now Alexandra,” Donovan whispered against my ear.