The Presence Part 36

Ryan looked from her to the horse. "Wallace! Shame on you." He looked back, glancing anxiously at Bruce. "Really, what the h.e.l.l were you doing?"

"Getting lost, nothing more. And I'm fine," Toni told them.

David and Kevin were both there now, looking at Toni worriedly.

"I'll make tea," Kevin said.

"With a shot of something," David said.

"We have about an hour before the buses show," Gina said, sounding very much like the business manager. "So we need to hop to it." She glanced at Bruce and swallowed a little uneasily. "Um...Bruce, are you still willing to play this with us?"

"Who else could better do the old great MacNiall?" he asked her, allowing his own accent a practiced strength.

"I'm going up," Toni said, and she flashed him another quick glance that was almost a question. Was he going to follow?

Oh, aye, beyond a doubt!

As if on cue, Eban came striding out from the barn. "Eh, Bruce, shall I be taking Shaunessy, setting him up for his grand entrance?"

"Aye, Eban, thank you."

"Well, Wallace, I'll be cleaning you up a bit!" Ryan said.

Bruce left them and walked toward the entrance, aware that they watched him in silence as he departed.

Toni sat in the tub, simply glad of the steaming water that soaked into her, pure bliss after the hours of cold. But her mind was racing. I'm on overload! she told herself.

So much had happened, yet no matter how hard she tried to recall those moments in the forest, she couldn't. Something had struck her. When she'd risen after falling, she'd thought she hit a tree branch.

But had she? Because it had happened right after she had seen...something. Something ahead of her in the water, gone when she had found her seat on the rock, gone when they had walked back following the stream.

Then there was the time--seconds, minutes, longer?--she had been out. Knocked out or just.. .out. Seeing a picture of the past, coming alive in the forest. She'd seen...Annalise, on her knees. Bruce, shouting, raging, straining, anguish written into his features.

And in the vision, she had been screaming herself, just as she had when she'd been a child. She'd been so desperate not to see more, praying, please, G.o.d, don't let me see the execution....

There she was, half in the water, half out, her temple killing her and the rock before her. And as she found her footing and then sat, she heard Bruce and Thayer again, calling to her. The forest had been as it was, trees, pine carpet, bubbling, beautiful brook.

"I'm losing my mind!" she whispered aloud to herself. But she wasn't. And she remembered the woman's voice over the phone. Medium. She was an incredible medium.

No!

But she knew that denying something couldn't make it change. Maybe she had put it all past her for years and years, so far behind her that she'd never expected to know that kind of sensation again, that kind of fear. And yet, if she just accepted some of it, would the fear recede?

I talk to lots of ghosts, the woman had told her.

There was a tap; the bathroom door opened. Bruce came in, hair damp and raven dark, features taut and concerned, chin hard squared, eyes slate and sharp. For a moment, she saw the distant MacNiall, saw him as she had in the very strange interlude amidst a field of trees. The ferocity, the rage.. .and the undying devotion he'd given his Annalise.

She bit into her lower lip, watching him, and the warmth of the water was nothing compared to the searing tempest she felt when he was near. She started to rise from the water very slowly, stepping from the top, coming to him.

"La.s.s, you've been soaked. A bad day..."

"Then make it better," she whispered.

He c.o.c.ked his head slightly. "There's not much time."

"Then we'd best use it well."

He wrapped his arms around her. For a moment, he held her tight, her frame taut to his. She felt the changes.

And yet.. .it was as if he waited, waited to know what she really needed.

And then.. .he gave it to her. All that she wanted. A total abandonment of thought and worry, fears and visions. Reality, flesh, the senses...the feel of his hands and lips, body heat emanated, damp and slick, pure physicality, grinding, mes.h.i.+ng. She had the longing again to crawl into his skin; they couldn't be close enough. And then those seconds of total constriction, the soaring, the touch of Elysian fields.

The man at her side was real, flesh and blood.

He stroked her hair for a moment, pulled her closer.

"The chill is gone?"

"I could never feel the slightest chill with you," she told him.

"It's not my show, you know," he reminded her gently, "but your buses are coming."

"I know," she said, but didn't stir. She waited a moment, thinking there was a tension about him, that he was about to say something. But he didn't.

So she did.

"I saw...what happened, in the past. Today, in the forest."

"What?" She felt his withdrawal, just slight and not physical.

She rose on an elbow, looking into his eyes. "I really didn't mean to be in the forest. I was furious with myself for being lost, but I was doing all right, except that that traitorous horse spooked at something and took off on me. Still, I was all right. I think I heard your voice first, maybe Thayer's, too. I turned to find you...and smacked into a branch. I saw stars, mist, darkness. Then--I know how this sounds--but it was as if I was back in time. Bruce, it was vividly real. There were these men, so many of them, and they had your ancestor. They dragged in Annalise, and the fellow strangled her there, in front of him. He broke free, but someone threw an ax, and he fell. They were about to do other things, but then I heard your voice."

He was staring at her as if she were stark raving mad. Well, what the h.e.l.l had she expected?

"So you did b.u.mp your head!"

She sighed. "Bruce--"

"A conk on your head, and you.. .dreamed."

"No! That wasn't it."

"I knew you'd hurt yourself, the way you kept feeling your forehead," he murmured, thumb on her cheek then, s.h.i.+fting her head, looking for damage.

"Bruce--"

"My ancestor is not a ghost, a presence, ranging the forest, looking for victims!" he told her.

"I never said that--"

"Toni, you're dreaming, and that's all."

She turned away from him, rising, heading back to her own room.

He followed her. "Toni! Don't be angry with me. I'm trying to help you," he said, following quickly behind her.

She had the bathroom door halfway shut, but he stopped it from closing.

"Excuse me," she said coolly, "did you want the bathroom first?"

"I want you to listen to me!" he said. "Toni, suppose there was.. .a ghost. We all know that history was tragic. Okay, he led you to a tomb. He wants Annalise in it. So, we'll get her in it. I was at the autopsy today and I made it very clear that once my blood proves her my ancestress, I want her back. She'll lie in the tomb next to the great MacNiall. So why would this ghost still be haunting you?"

"He wasn't haunting me. He was showing me what happened."

"Why?"

"So that we know."

"Once they found the scarf, the truth was fairly evident."

"Maybe he just wanted the full story known. Bruce! It tore my heart out, really. When he was threatened, it didn't matter. He said that he was already dead, because his Annalise was gone. And he said something about vengeance, even though he was half dead already."

"Dead men don't find vengeance, Toni."

"d.a.m.n you, I was glad that I saw it! I wasn't afraid in the forest then."

"You should be afraid in the d.a.m.ned forest. Someone--who isn't a ghost!--is killing women and discarding them there," he said. "Toni, your imagination is very vivid--"

"Do you know what?" she interrupted. "You're right. It's late. It's always your own business if you care to join us or not, but I owe a lot to this group. It is time I got ready."

"Toni--"

"If you're going to mock what I'm saying, or tell me that my imagination is too vivid, or that I'm losing a grip on sanity, you can just let it wait. Now, we do need to be ready. I repeat, did you want the bathroom first? It is your castle and your bathroom."

He didn't reply, but he closed the door sharply on her.

Toni winced at the anger she felt from him. Gritting her teeth, she turned the water on high and stepped into the shower, letting it cascade quickly over her. Never! She was never sharing any of this with anyone, ever, ever again!

Once again, his castle was full. Standing outside with Shaunessy, decked out for their grand entrance, Bruce looked at the tour buses with amazement. He'd have never believed that people would flock out like this-- and pay the price charged--f or a living history tour. But they did.

It still made him uneasy. But then, it had been a long time since he hadn't been uneasy, with regard to the castle--and the forest.

Shaunessy pawed the ground, as if he, too, was anxious to be at it, and over it.

"Hey!" Ryan came from the stables, leading Wallace. "I'm sure we've told you, but it really is d.a.m.ned decent of you to let us do this--and to pitch in." He cleared his throat. "We should probably do a legal contract with you, though. I mean, you didn't get the money, so we do owe you, but we can't pay you unless we're making it. Which we are. Gina has been meaning to talk to you. She just hasn't had the chance." He smiled awkwardly.

Bruce understood. Aye, he was helping them. But then, it was his property, wasn't it? And he could change his mind at any time.

"I'm sure we can work something out," he told Ryan.

Ryan let out a sigh. "I was so afraid I'd offend you," he murmured.

"I'm not offended."

"Good, thanks." Ryan inhaled deeply again. "I'm just thanking G.o.d old Wallace here has come through okay. If we'd lost our money on the castle, and then on the horse, too.. .well, it would almost seem as if someone was out there to get us!"

"Aye, it would, wouldn't it?" Bruce murmured.

A white flag was suddenly waved out the doorway.

"My cue," Bruce murmured.

"Go for it, man," Ryan said.

And he did.

There was always a fine line between acting and truth, he thought, as he played out the role, mounting the steps in a fury. Her words were right, her plea, brilliant. A pin could have been heard dropping from below. But her eyes... Aye, she was pleading all right. And she was still furious. He suddenly felt a great weight around his shoulders. He was sick to death of the myth and legend surrounding his ancestor, because it would start up all the rot about Bruce MacNiall roaming the forest. And since he and his ancestor were supposedly spitting images of one another, there would be those who stared at him, superst.i.tious, thinking that the sins of the past were coming alive through him.

Except that she hadn't been unfaithful. And the great MacNiall hadn't killed her.

Staring down into Toni's eyes, recreating history, he wondered if it had been like this. Had Annalise looked up at her husband all those years ago with eyes this blue.... Challenging and angry?

Ryan made his entrance then and they went into their mock battle. Soon, the tour group was moving on into the kitchen. Ryan, deeply pleased, clamped a hand with Bruce's. "d.a.m.ned, but we're good. And we still haven't had a chance to ch.o.r.eograph anything. Toni," he said, looking up the stairs, "weren't we phenomenal?"

"Absolutely," she said, but she was hurrying toward the kitchen. "Big group. I'm going to give the boys a hand."

"She p.i.s.sed at you or something?" Ryan asked Bruce.

He shrugged. "You can tell?"

Ryan grinned. "I know Toni. Actually, I thought you were going to be angry with her. For being in the forest again, I mean." He was studying Bruce's face intently.

"The remains of two murdered women have been found in those woods," Bruce said.

"Three, if you include your ancestress. She was murdered, too. Why, I'll bet you the place is full of bodies, considering the history here! Oh, man, sorry. I mean, I hope it doesn't have any more bodies."

"Thanks, Ryan. I hope it doesn't, either," he said. "I'm going to take old Shaunessy out and put him up for the night. Then I'm to bed. You can tell the others goodnight for me, all right?"

"Yeah, sure. And thanks."

He departed, anxious to have his horse bedded down and himself upstairs before the tour group began filing out. He wasn't much in the mood to be pleasant to strangers.

In his room, he started a fire, stripped down and stretched out in his bed, lacing his fingers behind his head as he watched the logs catch.

Should he relent? Just say, I've had a few moments like that myself. It's all right. h.e.l.l, no! He'd never seen his ancestor prowling the place.

She was getting too carried away. It was dangerous. There were bad things happening, really bad things. Ryan's words came back to him-- It was almost as if someone wanted them all to go down --and then his conversation with Jonathan Tavish that day.