The Cursed

Hannah wasn’t easily frightened—not by the dead, anyway.

 

But waking up to find Yerby staring down at her had been a bit much. Still, she was proud of herself, because she hadn’t screamed.

 

Seeing Dallas Samson burst into her room in pajama bottoms, a gun held at the ready, was even more disconcerting.

 

And yet, once again, she managed not to scream.

 

Dallas lowered the gun. He obviously saw Yerby, and she certainly saw him, because to Hannah’s surprise she almost hurled herself into his arms as if she were still alive. Caught by surprise, he instinctively tried to catch her and pat her back comfortingly, and instead he ended up ineffectually patting his own chest.

 

Yerby collected herself and stepped back. Ghostly tears appeared on her face. “I don’t understand. Why me? I didn’t see anything. I don’t know anything. I barely even saw the man who killed me. And I’m so angry and—and lost!”

 

Before she could go on, Melody and Hagen drifted into Hannah’s room, followed by Kelsey and Logan, who were also armed.

 

“Yerby,” Hannah said, “this is Agent Logan Raintree and his fiancée, my cousin Kelsey.”

 

“Agents, nice to meet you—I guess,” Yerby said uncertainly.

 

“Yerby, do you know anything at all that might help us?” Dallas asked her.

 

“All I know is that it was a man, and he was big and well muscled. He was wearing a full wet suit, so I don’t even know the color of his hair or how old he was. He was white, if that helps. At the time I thought he was from one of the other dive boats—there were at least three more in the area—and that he was an odd man out, too.”

 

“What about his eyes?” Hannah asked. “Do you remember his eyes?”

 

Yerby was thoughtful for a minute. “Blue, I think. We were underwater, so he had goggles on, but...yes. His eyes were blue.”

 

“That helps,” Hannah said. “Really.”

 

“Task force meeting in the morning,” Dallas said. “We’ll find out if the police learned anything at all from questioning the other divers in the area and potential witnesses on the docks.”

 

As he spoke, Yerby began to fade. “I need...” she began, her voice a whisper.

 

“Yerby, it’s all right,” Melody said kindly. “You’ll get stronger with time.”

 

Too late. Yerby was gone.

 

For a moment, they were all silent.

 

Then Hagen spoke. “She needs to say goodbye,” he said. “She wants one of you to let Mark Riordan know she loved him. She wants him to be at peace.”

 

“You can still hear her?” Logan asked.

 

Hagen shook his head sadly. “No. The strength to materialize—even to others of her kind—takes time to develop. I know what she wants to say because I’ve been there,” he added softly.

 

“All right,” Logan said. “Everyone...we need to get some sleep.”

 

Kelsey gave Hannah a quick hug and left. Logan followed her. Melody and Hagen floated out.

 

Only Dallas was left.

 

“You’re all right, then?” he asked.

 

She smiled and said, “I have three FBI agents in my house. Of course I’m all right.”

 

“Okay.”

 

He still stood there. She felt as if the air between them had a pulse whispering through it. She wondered if she was dreaming the way he was looking at her.

 

“Really all right?” he asked.

 

That time she shook her head. “No, not really. I...um, I...”

 

“Yes?”

 

Impulsively she said, “Don’t go.”

 

She couldn’t believe she had actually spoken the words that had been pounding in her brain.

 

But she had been with him for most of the day, listening to his voice, watching him move....

 

Instinct. Chemistry. That was all it was. And yet she had just asked him to stay.

 

He could turn her down; he could walk away. He might not be attracted to her at all.

 

He stood very still for a long moment, then opened his mouth as if there were things he needed to say.

 

But he didn’t say any of them. He simply closed the door, then locked it.

 

“So...” he managed. “Are you just looking for conversation? Human contact?”

 

“Contact, yes,” she whispered, and offered him a small smile. “Conversation...well, some people talk and some don’t, right?”

 

He smiled, too.

 

Hannah had barely made it to her feet by the time he reached her. She instantly liked the feel of his hands in her hair as he cradled her head. She felt a burst of warmth and life and fire when his mouth came down on hers, a liquid heat that seemed to be amplified by the strange circumstances.

 

Heather Graham's books