Shadow Lover (Siren Publishing Allure) Read online

  Finally throwing his cigarette into the fire, Quinn spoke to Venita. "Venita, why don't you take a little break? You've been working very hard and deserve to relax a little. Come on,” he said, taking her hand, “we'll go to the kitchen and see what there is to drink."

  Dropping her dust cloth, she smiled at him and nodded.

  Opening the refrigerator, he looked around for a moment, then reached in and pulled out a Coke, opened it, and gave it to her.

  She pulled her chalkboard around and wrote, "Cherry Coke?"

  He looked at her and laughed. "I should have known. Have a teenager in the house, and you've got to have Cherry Coke. Sorry, there is no Cherry Coke."

  She took what he offered, and drank as if she was very thirsty.

  Quinn turned a chair towards himself, lifted a leg and straddled it. With his arms draping the back, he leaned his chin down on one hand and watched her. He was fascinated by her babydoll lips as they pursed against the glass rim, then opened seductively to receive the cool liquid. After a hearty gulp, she touched the bottle against her cleavage and closed her eyes, almost moaning as she smoothed the cold glass across her fevered skin. He watched, his eyes unmoving until the last of the dark liquid fell into her mouth. Putting the bottle down, she slid her eyes toward him, her heavy-lidded smile enlightened far beyond her eighteen years. He, in response, lowered his eyes to her cleavage, and began his proposition with a shrewd look on his face, "Venita, how would you like to make a little extra money?"

  * * * *

  As Chyna's car sped down the coastal highway, Joni turned to her and asked, "Okay, spill it, what're we goin' into Atlantic City for?"

  "Well, I've got an idea, and if it works, it'll mean a lot."

  "Come on, Chyna, that tells me nothin’. Wanna cut to the chase here?"

  "Joni, he's so unhappy. I just can't get close to him."

  "Who the hell are we talkin' about?"

  "Haven't I told you about Kirk?"

  "Well, you mentioned someone on the phone the other day, but we were interrupted before you told me anything."

  "He was in a bad car accident about ten years ago, and one side of his face got messed up."

  "You mean this Kirk person?"

  "Yes. He's Quinn's brother. Younger by a year."

  "He lives at the mansion, right?"

  "Yes, down in the basement.”

  Joni looked at her and frowned. “In the basement? You’re kidding,”

  “Oh, Joni, I wish I were. Because of his face he won't go out among people, or let himself be seen by anyone. I thought at first it must be pure vanity, but after meeting him, I think it goes a lot deeper than that. I'm not a psychiatrist, but it seems to me that a lot of it is guilt. He's punishing himself for his parents' death, you know? It's like he's dug a grave for himself and only comes out when he has to."

  Joni crooked her arm around the bottom half of her face, bent her other hand up like a claw, and turned toward Chyna. "You mean vhen he vants blood!"

  "It's not funny, Joni. He's really hurting."

  "So the Grayson's have a monster in their basement. Wow."

  "Stop it, Joni, he's not a monster."

  "Say, you're really sensitive about this, aren't you?"

  "If you could just see him, Joni. You can tell he was very handsome at one time. He looks a lot like Quinn, but his eyes are more expressive and so sexy. But his mouth, oh, Joni, his mouth is delicious!"

  Joni leaned toward Chyna, amazed. "Yep, I see all the danger signs. You’re fallin’ for this creep."

  Chyna exploded. "He's not a creep!"

  Joni leaned back. "Sooorrry!"

  After Chyna's blow up she drove in silence for a while, then said, "Gosh, Joni, I'm sorry, but I'm so tired of everyone calling him names. It’s all I hear. Just the other night his own brother referred to him as a freak, an insect that lives under the stairs. Can you believe it? An insect, for God’s sake. He seems to have no compassion for him at all or his situation." Chyna's eyes narrowed. "That's one of the reasons I hate him."

  "Do you feel any attraction at all for Quinn?"

  "I did at one time, but since I’ve been there I’ve seen a side of him I can’t accept. Not only is he cruel, but he’s rough, and brutal. He's the kind of man that if he can't have something, he tries to take it. He's the real monster, Joni, an absolute snake."

  Joni looked at her and snickered. "Quite a little twosome you've got yourself mixed up with. One's a monster, and the other, Mr. Universe."

  "I told you, he's—"

  "I know,” Joni sighed, “he's not a monster."

  They both looked up the highway toward the city that was slowly coming into view.

  "Do you know where you're going?” Joni asked, “I mean what street?”

  "Look for Congress Street. It’s near a place they call Downtown Crossing. The place we’re going to is a little hole in the wall that you might miss if you blink."

  "What's the name of the place?"

  "It's a costume shop. Stage Door, I think."

  Joni looked at Chyna. "A costume shop? We're goin' to a friggin’ costume shop? What for?"

  "You'll see."

  Just then Joni jumped. "There! There it is. Quick, turn here!"

  Chyna quickly turned into an angled parking space right in front. When they got out she browsed in front of the widow, looking at the different costumes displayed. She saw big witches’ hats and capes, wolfman fur and fake blood, Vampire teeth, capes, wigs, stage makeup and props. Chyna didn't see what she was looking for and felt sort of let down, thinking for the first time that they might not have what she wanted. As soon as they went in, they were welcomed by a deep southern drawl coming form the back of the shop.

  "Welcome, ladies, how can I help y'all?"

  Chyna was put off for a moment, surprised by his southern accent. He sounded like he belonged way down in Texas.

  "I'd like to see a—"

  "How de do, ma’am,” he said, then frowned. “You know, you look awful familiar. I know," he said, cocking his head and looking at her through narrowed eyes, "since you come into my costume shop, you must be one them there actress persons. Am I right?" He smiled as if proud of himself. "I hit right on it, didn't I?

  "Actu—"

  The man indicated the displays. "Well, we got all kinds. Anything you might want, we got. By the way—" He wiped his hand off and extended it toward her. "—my name's Billy Ben…Billy Ben Cook. I come from the great state of Texas. I been livin’ here about five years now. Course you couldn’t tell me from a native, seein’ as I lost my accent right away."

  “Oh, yes, I can tell,” Chyna said graciously.

  "You can call me Billy."

  "Thank you, Billy—"

  "What's your name?"

  "Chyna Marsh."

  When Billy heard the name, his smile turned to surprise. "Chyna Marsh! Of course, I knew I'd seen that face before. You're my Matilda's favorite author. She reads all your books. I have to admit I sneak a peek at 'em once in a while myself. Don't want the wife to know it, though. She'd call me a sissy or something."

  "Billy—"

  "Hear you moved to that little town just north of here, what's it called?"

  "Mystic Islands."

  "Yeah, that’s it. How do you like it?" Suddenly his smile dropped. “Say, ain’t you missin’? Seems I heard somewhere that you was missing. Got blowed away, or somethin’ like that.”

  Chyna smiled. “Not anymore. As you can see—”

  “Rumors. Ain’t they a sight? Anybody can see that you’re fit as a fiddle. Don’t put much stock in rumors myself…”

  Chyna listened as the man rattled on, her eyes darting around to see where Joni was. Just as she suspected, Joni was clawing through a costume rack, fascinated by all the bright colors, and looking as excited as a child in Santa’s toy factory. Turning back to the man, she smiled thinly, knowing that if she spoke she wouldn’t be allowed to finish a sentence. Then suddenly she heard a pause and jumped in
. "Yes, now, Mr—"

  Billy stopped her, waving his finger in front of her face. "Uh, uh, uh."

  She smiled, correcting herself. "Billy—"

  “That’s right,” he said, looking at her as if she’d just got an A on an exam.

  “I was just…” she paused, looking at him.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, frowning.

  “Oh…nothing,” Chyna said, knowing she’d stopped because she expected him to interrupt her. Thankful that she at last had the floor, she continued.

  Joni was fascinated, and gathered up a few things she intended to buy. She found some of the wildest earrings she had ever seen, and some unusual combs and headbands. Her eyes almost popped out when she looked up at a rack full of bright shawls. She smiled, and looked over at Chyna. The next time they went out, she was gonna be fixed up like a Christmas tree.

  "But Ms. Marsh, I can't just sell you part of a costume. It's the whole thing or nothin'. Surely you can understand. If I just sell you part of it, what am I gonna do with the rest? Nobody'd want it. I'd lose money."

  "All right," Chyna said with a sigh. "Wrap it up."

  On their way back to Mystic Islands, Chyna was very thoughtful and didn't talk much.

  "Hey, wanna see what I bought?"

  "Sure," Chyna said, sounding less than interested.

  Joni dipped into her bag and began unwrapping some of her packages. She spread the shawl around her, put on the earrings, and the headband, and turned to Chyna.

  Chyna's eyes widened when she saw all of her outrageous trinkets. Looking from one to the other, she frowned and said, "Euuuh! Ugly!"

  Joni looked at her as if she had just received Chyna's highest praise. "Yeah, ain't they a gas?"

  Chyna looked at Joni, shaking her head and laughing, hoping she would never change.

  While Joni was re-wrapping the rest of her purchases, Chyna lapsed into another silent period.

  "Hey, what's the matter?" Joni asked, looking up at her.

  "Oh, nothing. I've just got a lot of things on my mind.” Looking over at Joni, she asked, “Hey, how about staying for dinner tonight? I’m sure Elaine wouldn’t mind."

  "Gee, Chyna I wish you'd asked me sooner. I've already got plans. You'll ask me again, won't you?"

  "Oh, sure." Chyna smiled mischievously. "I just thought you might want to meet Mr. Universe."

  "Any other time I'd love it, but it's kind of late in the day to cancel. Sorry."

  "No problem. We'll do it some other time." When Chyna let Joni out in front of her house she called out, “Enjoy your treasures.”

  Dressed up in the headband, shawl, and earrings Joni struck a pose, then waved. Chyna laughed as she drove off, knowing Joni was probably the only thing that was keeping her from going absolutely mad.

  When Chyna walked in, the house seemed to be empty. It was well before dinnertime, so she quietly hurried up to her room and closed the door and locked it. She put the large box on the bed, sat down beside it and nervously began unsnapping the string around it. She just couldn't help getting excited. If this worked, Kirk might come out of his basement and walk among the living again. Finally easing off the top of the box, she smiled while looking down at the unusual, gray, cutaway item on top—the mask!

  Chapter 12

  As Kirk watched Elaine place his dinner tray on the table, he noticed the small, square paper sticking out from under his plate. “Take it back!” he barked.

  “What? You're not hungry?"

  "The note. Take it back."

  "Kirk, don't treat her like this. She's trying to make friends."

  "I don't need a friend,” he spat angrily, turning his back on his sister. “I said take it back."

  Elaine hesitated, then relented, "All right. I'll take it back, but I think you're turning into the monster Quinn accuses you of being."

  He turned around quickly. "What in hell do you expect? Day after day in this miserable darkness. It's a wonder I'm still sane."

  "Then move out of this place. Turn on a friggin’ lamp. No one’s forcing you to stay down here.”

  “And see what, Elaine? If I turn on a lamp I’ll see scars, and ten wasted years.” He thrust his wrists out to her. “The next time it’ll take, Elaine. I’ll make sure.”

  Seeing the horrible red scars, Elaine put a hand up to her mouth and gasped. Her eyes shifted down at his tray and saw a knife. Fear traveled through her. “That door’s not locked, Kirk,” she said, her voice, trembling. “You can come up any time you want."

  "If it was only a locked door, hell, I could handle that. A lock can be forced, windows can be broken. There's always a way out, but the scars on my face—" He looked at her ruefully. "Let's just say there hasn't been a lock invented that's stronger than they are.”

  "Kirk, all I know is, if you ruin this chance, you'll never come out of this dungeon. Someone all alone like you gets the chance to make friends with a beautiful, caring woman and you won't even give her a chance. Just because you're afraid of showing a few scars—"

  "A few scars? My God, Elaine. A few scars is what you get when you get caught in a bramble bush. My face has been ripped to shreds and you know it." Kirk paced around for a moment, then looked over at her. "The truth is, I just couldn't stand the word ‘monster’ coming out of her mouth, Elaine. It would kill me. I can take it from Quinn, but not from Chyna. When I pulled Quinn off her the other day I saw her eyes when she looked at me. I thought she was going to scream. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she had." He turned back toward the wall. "Take the note back. I just can't take the chance."

  Elaine cut her eyes down at the note, reached down and lifted the edge of his plate. She began pulling on the note, then suddenly stopped. Cutting her eyes back up at him, she released the little piece of paper and picked up the knife instead. "Okay, it's gone," she said, risking the outpouring of his anger. Then while moving toward the door, she looked back at the dark phantom that existed in darkness and said softly, "See you later."

  Thinking Elaine was gone, Kirk walked over to the tray, sat down and began eating. By chance his eyes fell on the little square peeking out from under his plate. "Elaine!" he shouted as he angrily looked up toward the barred door.

  She stood there looking at him with love in her eyes. "Maybe she won't reject you, Kirk. But you'll never know unless you take the chance. We all have to take chances now and then, even you."

  Kirk looked back down at the note, fuming, then jumped up and stalked toward the door. He saw Elaine turn and run toward the stairs. “You’re a bitch! Both of you! Two miserable, goddamned, fucking…” His words faded while he clutched the bars in his hand and leaned his head on one. With pain cutting through him, he let his shoulders shake with sobs. Then, wiping at his face, he mumbled, “Damned woman. Since she’s been here, I’ve become a blithering idiot.”

  Slowly he turned, walked back to the tray and looked down at the note. Just because Elaine hadn’t taken it didn’t mean that he had to read it. With that in mind he sat down and began eating, but couldn't keep his eyes off the white slip of paper that seemed to be turning his dinner into a hard rock in his stomach. Finally, he pulled it out

  Hello, Kirk.

  I hope you're feeling better. I

  got your answer to the note I sent you,

  and was very hurt, but I understand.

  Sending notes back and forth makes me

  feel like a teenager. I wish you would

  come up and see me, or let me come down

  to you. I hope you're feeling better

  today. I saw you out on the beach

  yesterday. I wanted to come out and walk

  with you, but I guess you didn't want

  company. I care about you, Kirk, and all

  I want to do is help. Think about it, okay?

  Sleep well.

  Chyna

  Kirk crumpled up the paper and threw it down. He continued eating with one eye on his food and the other on the little white ball of paper that had
rolled over into the corner.

  * * * *

  Elaine had a headache and decided to go to bed early. She left the dinner for Venita to serve, and her absence left only Quinn and Chyna in the Dining Room.

  "Elaine tells me you went into Atlantic City this afternoon." He cut his eyes up at her. "What for?"

  "No reason. I just had to get out for a while."

  "Atlantic City’s not around the corner, Chyna. You must have went in for something, now what was it?"

  Chyna looked up at him angrily. "None of your business, Quinn. And I don't appreciate being given the third degree every time I step out of the house."

  Anger speared through Quinn, and he opened his mouth, but closed it quickly, changing his mind. He had to watch himself…play the nice guy for her. He’d known the minute she got her car back she'd be running all over the place. It was why he didn’t want her to have it. Still, it was ridiculous to expect her to stay cooped up all day. He knew she’d stay longer if she didn’t have restrictions, so he relaxed, letting the retort die on his curling lips.

  Just then Venita came in to serve dinner. She was looking very cute in a tiny little uniform that resembled an upstairs maid.

  "What's this?" Chyna asked, surprised.

  "It’s nothing much, just—"

  "You're not kidding!"

  "I like the help to look—" He raised one eyebrow. “—interesting."

  “That’s not the word I was thinking of,” Chyna said, forcing a smile back at him. “Naked would cover it nicely, no pun intended.”

  Quinn smiled, thinking his plan was working.

  Chyna’s darting eyes watched as Venita served Quinn. She smiled down into his face, and when she leaned over in front of him, her cleavage bounced as she moved. Quinn was lapping it up, and once in a while his eyes would furtively cut toward Chyna to make sure she wasn't missing anything. While eating her food and struggling with an amused twitch on her lips, Chyna watched the show all evening. It included Venita acting like a little tramp, and Quinn busy touching, feeling, and laughing, always being sure that Chyna was watching, of course.