The Firstborn. Dani Sinclair
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Relief swelled inside her. He still had her lions. “Where is that?”
“Tucked up in the hills about an hour’s drive northwest of here. I doubt you’ve ever heard of the place. Murett Township doesn’t appear on most maps.”
He was right. She’d never heard of it. “I want them replaced the way they were. Excuse me while I go have a nice long chat with my father. Have a good evening, Mr.—”
“Myers,” he supplied. “Bram Myers.”
“Well, Mr. Myers, it was interesting talking with you. You’ll have to forgive me for running off, but it looks like I need to drive a car through one of your clever gates to get inside my own house.”
He rocked back on his heels. Once again she sensed an underlying amusement. “Now why do I think you’re ready to do exactly that?”
“Good instincts?”
“Try the front door,” he suggested softly. “I haven’t completed the design for that gate.”
Hayley hesitated. “I will. And Mr. Myers, I wouldn’t waste time creating any more gates or bars for Heartskeep if I were you.”
Hayley plunged back down the pitch dark path toward the house. She didn’t dare look back. Bram Myers was entirely too disconcerting for comfort. She had never seen a sexier man in all her life. Too bad she was going to have to fire him in the morning.
She wished there was a moon overhead as she made her way cautiously around the house to the front door. Curiously, she didn’t even need her key. The tarnished brass knob twisted easily beneath her fingers. The door swung wide, revealing a black, cavernous interior that was far from inviting. Hayley could barely see to step over the threshold. She searched along the wall for the remembered light switch, relieved when her fingers closed over it. But nothing happened.
A large chandelier hung over the foyer. One bulb might be burned out, but not all of them. Obviously, the electricity wasn’t working again. The house had an empty, deserted feeling. Where was everyone?
“Hello? Is anyone here?”
Her voice seemed to echo hollowly.
Straight ahead, the formal grand staircase rose imperiously to the second floor. Beyond it was the incredibly large, one-of-a-kind living room. On her right was the library, and to her left, the narrow, formal parlor her grandfather had converted into a waiting room for Marcus’s patients.
Hayley knew a moment of shock when she sensed the door to that parlor standing wide open. Except during office hours, Marcus always kept that door closed and locked.
Despite her unease, she was drawn to the opening. She set down her case and crossed to the entrance, stepping warily inside. The bank of windows on her left was covered by thick, heavy drapes, so there wasn’t even a faint trace of light in the waiting room.
“Hello? Is anyone home?”
A whisper of sound slithered to life from somewhere inside. Common sense told her to leave. Fear told her to run. Sternly, Hayley told herself she wasn’t a child. This was her home. She had nothing to fear here.
“Hello?”
Shoving back a long tendril of hair that had worked its way loose from her ponytail, she stepped into the dark recess of the room.
“Is someone in here?”
No one answered, but there was a definite slither of sound that sent prickles of alarm straight up her spine. It was impossible to pinpoint the source of the noise, yet she sensed someone standing nearby. Someone who obviously didn’t intend to make his or her presence known.
As Hayley stepped forward cautiously, her leg made unexpected contact with a hard object. Her fingers identified the reception desk, even as her eyes strained to pierce the uncanny blackness of the room. Visions from every horror movie she had ever seen rushed to paint images in her mind. There was a feeling of wrongness in here that was almost physical.
A disturbing chill suddenly brushed her skin. Hayley sensed rather than saw a movement in the ominous well of blackness pooled at the opening that had once led into the formal ballroom. The heavy door now led to the corridor her grandfather had created when he’d converted a portion of the ballroom into a bathroom, laboratory and exam rooms for Marcus. The narrow hall ended at an office.
Hayley held her breath. She felt sure someone stood in that pocket of shadow, silently watching her. The sense of menace seemed to swell until she turned and bolted back into the hall.
She noticed the tall, looming shape too late to avoid a collision.
A scream tore from the depths of her soul. Hands closed roughly around her shoulders. Even as dry-mouthed fear enveloped her, she instinctively lashed out with her foot. There was a soft grunt of pain as she connected with a shin. Her attacker released her.
“Take it easy, will you? I’m not going to hurt you.”
A core of remaining sanity placed the voice. A powerful shaft of light emerged from a flashlight in his hand. She was momentarily blinded by the beam before he aimed it away from her face. His harsh features wavered into view.
“Sorry if I startled you,” Bram Myers said quietly.
“Startled?” Her heart raced as if she’d run a mile. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“That would have been a real shame. Not to mention a spectacular problem.”
His wry humor steadied her frazzled nerves. “What are you doing in here?”
“I came to be sure you hadn’t driven your car through a door like you threatened.”
“Very funny.” She couldn’t stop trembling. It had been such a long day, and he was standing too near.
“What happened to the lights?”
“They aren’t working,” she bit out.
“I noticed.” He swung the beam so it spanned the empty hall, causing shadows to leap and writhe. “Are you all right? You’re shaking.”
“Of course I’m shaking. You scared the heck out of me.”
“The way you came bursting out of that room, I have a feeling I’m not the only thing that scared you.”
Flustered, she struggled for a composure she was far from feeling. “There’s someone in there. Whoever it is wouldn’t answer when I called out.”
He tensed. “Wait here.”
Before she could stop him, Bram strode through the opening. Hayley followed on his heels, secretly relieved by his reassuring presence. His flashlight brought the dark room to spooky life. The drapes were of thick, heavy damask. Empty chairs sat in a line in front of them.
“Inviting. I hope you’re planning on having a decorator come in,” he said mildly.
“Cute.”
The beam of light swept behind the desk to reveal the heavy, dark wood double doors that led back to Marcus’s lair. They were closed, sealing off the converted rooms. Her stomach lurched.
“One of those doors was open a second ago,” she whispered.
Bram spared her a look. Crossing to them, he reached for the knob. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
He rattled the handle. “It’s locked now. Want me to break it open?”
Yes, she wanted to shout, but she couldn’t push the word past lips that felt numb. Someone had stood in that doorway only a minute ago. She was sure of it.
“I can force it open if you want me to, but are you sure it wasn’t your imagination playing tricks? It would certainly be understandable. Without light, this room is as dark as the inside of a coffin.”
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