
Wicked Welcome
Also by Ginger Elinburg

Wicked

Wicked Welcome

Beyond Wicked

Wicked: Family Ties

Pantar

Damien: The Guardian

Dimitri: Deadly Obsession

Donovan: Unleashed

Standalone

Always Girl

Hunted by Death

Sharp Edges

Whispered Deceit

Killian's Pass

Draçon

Hunted by Death II

We All Fall

Watch for more at Ginger Elinburg's site.

# Table of Contents

Title Page

Also By Ginger Elinburg

Wicked Welcome

Ginger Elinburg

Dedication | To my girls Amber, Tiffani and Paige. | Thanks for inspiring me to follow my dreams.

Copyright 2017 Ginger Elinburg

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

All questions and inquiries can be sent to...

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Also By Ginger Elinburg

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# Wicked Welcome

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# Ginger Elinburg

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# Dedication

# To my girls Amber, Tiffani and Paige.

# Thanks for inspiring me to follow my dreams.

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# Copyright 2017 Ginger Elinburg

All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or store in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the Author. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the publisher.

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THIS BOOK IS A WORK of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, are coincidental.

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# CHAPTER ONE

Sitting on the porch, in a white wicker chair, sipping ice-cold lemonade, Morgan tried to recall the last time she had felt this relaxed.

The day was perfect. Clear blue skies, nice gentle warm breeze blowing across her face and the sound of a child's happy laughter ringing through the air. Morgan couldn't stop the smile that spread across her lips when she looked at the little girl running across the lawn chasing butterflies.

She appeared to be around two years old, and she looked so cute in her yellow dress and white Mary Jane shoes. Her long black hair, held back with a matching yellow ribbon, was flying out behind her as she ran.

Lifting her glass to her lips, Morgan looked down in confusion and, noticing it was empty, she was standing up to go into the house for a refill when she heard a woman's voice calling her name. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw the little girl in the yellow dress stop running before turning toward the house, brushing a few strands of stray hairs back from her face. Morgan's breath caught in her throat; the little girls face was so familiar and she felt as if she should know who this child was.

Looking in the same direction as the little girl, she saw a woman leaning against the porch railing with her arms stretched out waving at the little girl in a 'come here' gesture.

"Come on Morgan, it's time to get ready for dinner." The woman's voice caused a deep ache in Morgan's chest and her eyes filled up with tears.

Looking back at the little girl, Morgan saw her smile as she started running toward the porch.

"Mommy, guess what?" She bounded up the porch steps, holding out her cupped hands toward the woman. "I catched a flutterbye!"

The woman's rich throaty laughter filled the air. "You mean you caught a butterfly."

Nodding her head excitedly, the little girl opened her hands to show her mother the butterfly.

Morgan was leaning forward to see the butterfly that the child held, when she heard a phone start ringing somewhere in the house.

"Answer the phone, Morgan." The woman's voice was firm, yet gentle.

Morgan glanced at the little girl to see if she had heard her mother, but she was still looking at her butterfly.

"Morgan... I need you to answer the phone for me." Her voice was a little louder when she spoke, as the phone rang for the fourth time.

Turning toward the woman to see how she would react to the child not listening, Morgan was confused because she couldn't see the woman's face clearly but, she could feel her eyes watching her.

Lifting her hand, she pointed at herself. "Are you talking to me or the child?"

"I'm talking to you, darling." Morgan saw the blurry outline of the woman nodding. "I need you to answer the phone for me. Hurry now. You mustn't miss this call."

Morgan turned and entered the house. As she was turning back toward the door to catch a glimpse of the child, it slammed shut, plunging the room into total darkness.

Spinning on her heels toward the ringing phone, her feet felt rooted to the floor and she looked in the direction of the ringing, confusion etched across her face. She wanted to grasp the door and wrench it open but, the woman told her she had to answer the phone.

Taking slow careful steps in the direction of the phone, she noticed a red light spilling from the ceiling. Glancing toward the light, she saw what looked like a long flight of stairs. As she watched, the red light started to pulse and grow brighter, casting eerie shadows across the wall. Heart pounding in her throat, she turned back toward the ringing phone.

She was lifting the receiver when she felt a talon like grip on her wrist. Crying out in pain, she tried to twist free. Looking up she attempted to scream when she saw what looked like a face, it's lips pulled back revealing fangs. Her heart felt like it had to come to a complete stop. She couldn't scream, she couldn't catch her breath, but strangely she could still hear the phone ringing.

Morgan felt a sharp pain begin in her chest and slowly travel down her left arm. 'I'm dying' kept running through her head and she struggled to draw breath into her burning lungs. With one final yank, she was free of the grip and falling...

Hitting the floor, Morgan woke up with a jolt of pain in her wrist. Tears sprang to her eyes and she sat up, rubbing her wrist and glancing at the bedside clock. She saw that it was just after midnight and she jumped when the phone started ringing.

Her hand shook when she lifted the receiver and answered breathlessly. "Hello?"

A chill coursed down Morgan's spine when she heard a woman's soft voice. "You have to go back."

Still half-scared, she tightened her grip on the phone. "Back where?" Already she could hear the dial tone, and she knew the caller had already hung up.

"Well, that was weird."

Taking the phone away from her ear, she looked over at her cat, Tiny, as she replaced the receiver back on its cradle.

Getting back into bed, she rolled over and closed her eyes, her dream replaying over in her mind, and tried to go back to sleep. Just as she was dozing off, she remembered that today was her birthday. Finally, the day she had been waiting for was here. She pressed a fist against her lips as a giggle escaped. "I'm twenty-one."

Smiling, she opened her eyes and sat up in bed. Looking across the room, she met Tiny's eyes. "Happy Birthday, Tiny, to both of us."

Tiny's teeth flashed white in the moonlight spilling across the room when he yawned and Morgan shook her head before laying back down and pulling the covers up to her chin, sighing happily as she drifted back into sleep.

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# CHAPTER TWO

She winced when she opened her eyes and raised her arm to block out the light. The sun was shining through the curtains and someone was pounding on her front door.

Throwing back the covers, she crawled out of the bed with a groan and shrugged into her robe. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she stumbled down the hall to answer the door before whoever was out there broke it down with their persistent banging.

Her voice held a trace of anger when she yelled out. "Hold on!"

Walking into the room, tying her robe closed, she was reaching out toward the door when the knocking ended.

"It's about damn time." As she twisted the knob on the deadbolt, she wondered who could be banging on her door so early in the morning.

Pulling the door open, she looked up and saw that there was no one on the other side. Stepping closer to the screen door, she wondered if the person had stepped to the side when she opened the door, but the porch was empty. Gritting her teeth in frustration, she was closing the door when she glanced down and saw an envelope lying on her porch, almost hidden by the welcome mat.

Looking out toward the front yard, she cautiously opened the screen door and stepped out onto the porch. Using the toe of her slipper, she pulled the envelope out enough to see her name printed across the front in bold black letters.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she stood looking down at the envelope for a minute, wondering where it had come from. With a shiver of apprehension, she knelt down and picked it up, testing its weight.

She looked at Tiny with a frown. "Well, it feels like it's only paper." She remembered hearing on the news that people were getting bombs in their mail so, she knew to be careful. It may not be in her mailbox, but it was on her porch and she did not know who had left it there. Standing up straight, she scanned the front yard again before turning back toward the open door. "At least we know it's not going to explode."

Going back inside, she closed the door before slowly opening the envelope and reaching inside. Before she could see what was in it, she heard Tiny meowing and clawing at the screen door.

Stepping back, she opened the door again and smiled when she saw the look she was getting from her cat.

"Sorry, Tiny. I didn't mean to leave you out there." She bit back a smile as she closed the door once more.

Tiny looked back at her with a hiss as if to say, "kiss my kitty butt," before jumping onto the couch and stretching out, laying his head on his front paws.

With a chuckle, she looked down at the paper she had taken from the envelope and the smile disappeared from her face. There, on the paper, was the house. Not just any house but the house. The one she had been dreaming about for the last two months. What she thought was a letter was actually a brochure stating that the house was up for sale.

She remembered seeing the house when she went on a business trip last year and wishing she could live in something so beautiful. Now looking at the brochure, she wished for it again.

Her eyes became dreamy as she continued to look through the brochure. 'I would never be able to afford something like this.'

"Oh well," she said to Tiny, as she tossed it onto the coffee table. "I can still dream about living there."

Tiny didn't even raise his head, only peered at her with half-closed eyes to show her that he was still upset with her for leaving him outside.

Casting one last look in his direction, she left the room and walked up the stairs.

She was getting dressed when the phone rang again.

Reaching to answer it, she hoped it wasn't her best friend, Brooke, calling to sing in her ear as she had done for the past five years on her birthday.

"Hello?" Holding the phone against her ear with her shoulder, she sucked in her stomach and began buttoning the fly of her jeans.

"Hello." The voice that spoke was deep and caused her arms to break out in goosebumps. "I'd like to speak with a Miss Morgan Dupree, please."

"This is she." Morgan's brow drew down in a frown.

"Morgan Elaine Dupree?"

"Yes." Her voice was shaky and she took a few deep breaths before speaking again. "Is something wrong?"

"Wrong? No ma'am, I just need to make sure I have the right Miss Dupree." Morgan could hear the man shuffling papers on the other end. "Now, the next thing I need to know is your date of birth."

Her mind screamed at her not to give out her personal information over the phone. "Before I answer any more of your questions, sir, I'd like to know who you are and how you got my unlisted phone number."

Morgan heard him sigh before he answered. "My name is Jackson St. Clair, and I am a lawyer from Little Rock, Arkansas. Now, I really need for you to answer my question."

She didn't have a clue as to why a lawyer would be calling her, unless it was a bill collector. Hoping she was not being sued, she cleared her throat and answered him. "My birthday is today."

"Okay, and what year were you born? Sorry, but I have to ask."

Her shoulders stiffened with annoyance and she ground her teeth together before speaking. "Look, why do you need to know what year I was born in? I'm not at all comfortable giving my personal information out to a stranger."

"I've already told you, I need to make sure I'm talking to the right Miss Dupree."

She could hear the anger in his voice when he answered her question and it fueled her own. 'Why should he be mad at me when I am the one being bothered.'

Before she could snap out a reply, he started speaking again. "Miss Dupree, I have some papers here that I need you to look over and sign. And I will need to see some sort of identification proving that you are in fact Miss Morgan Elaine Dupree."

His last comment caused her temper to flair to life. "Look buddy, I don't know who you are and you sure as hell don't have a clue as to who I am so, I don't see where you get off accusing me of lying about my identity. You called me, remember?"

She thought about slamming the phone down in his ear but, her curiosity kept her from doing just that.

As if reading her mind, Jackson raised his voice. "Wait, don't hang up! I'm sorry if I offended you but, I'm only doing my job. And part of that is making sure that my client doesn't get scammed out of her money. It's just like you said, I don't know who you are so, I have to be careful."

Morgan quit listening at the word 'money'. 'Why would he be talking about money.' Her mind raced and she tried to remember what bill was overdue this month. "Are you a bill collector? Because I'm telling you right now, I'm so broke I can't even pay attention much less a bill."

Jackson couldn't help the laughter that rippled up from his chest. "No ma'am, I am not a bill collector. I'm just a lawyer calling to give you your inheritance."

"Are you sure you're looking for me?" No way did she know anyone who would leave her any money.

"Pretty sure." She heard more paper being shuffled on the other end of the phone before he spoke again. "Which is why I need you to come down here to my office in Arkansas."

"Arkansas?" Morgan remembered the brochure lying on her coffee table. "Um... could you hold on for a moment, I need to go to the... I'll be right back."

Without waiting for his reply, she lay the phone down and made a mad dash for the living room. Snatching up the brochure, she ran back into the bedroom clutching it to her chest.

Sitting on the bed, she stared at the picture on the front of the brochure before picking up the phone again. "Are you still there, Mr. St. Clair?"

She heard him chuckle before he replied." You're a poet and didn't know it. Do you rhyme every time too?"

"Excuse me?" Morgan's brow pulled down in confusion.

"Never mind. Are you going to be able to come down here to sign these papers? I don't mean to rush but, I..." He had an appointment in twenty minutes and he really wanted to get this settled before he met with his client.

"No, I understand. Um... when would you want me to come down there?" Since she worked from home, Morgan knew she could be on the next plane out if she needed to be.

"Well." His voice was a southern drawl over the line. "The sooner the better. Hopefully before the end of the week, if that's good for you."

Looking around her room, she tried to remember where she had put her suitcase. "I could be there tomorrow if that's not a problem."

Walking to the closet, she opened it and looked around before turning back into her bedroom. Her mouth twisted to the side thoughtfully when she spotted her suitcase under her bed.

"Not a problem. I'll have my secretary set up an appointment." He was a little shocked that she could get away so soon. 'Poor thing must not have a job.' Looking down at the papers in front of him, he smiled to himself, if she was the woman he was looking for she would never have to worry about working again. Hell, her children's children would never have to worry about working.

Grabbing a sheet of paper and a pen, she quickly scribbled down his phone number and directions to his office. "Wait, what if I get there before our appointment."

Jackson looked down at his calendar and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I can try to work you in. It shouldn't take too long to go over the paperwork."

After saying good-bye, she hung up and sat on her bed going back over the conversation she just had. 'Could it really be true? Could I really be inheriting money from someone? Ha... knowing my luck, I'll be wasting what little money I have by going down there only to be told I am the wrong Morgan Dupree.'

"Well you'll never know if you don't go." Pushing herself to her feet, she started laughing as she realized she had just rhymed again. Funny that she had never paid attention to what she said before.

Walking back into the front room, she looked at Tiny still curled up on the couch. "Hey, Tiny, we're going on a trip."

Tiny looked up at her and yawned, his eyes hooded as if he were thinking, "You bore me lady."

"You're not still mad at me are you, boy?"

Looking into her eyes, he got up and went over to her and rubbed his head against her to show her that he was not still mad.

She scratched behind his ears absently as she looked through the phone book for the number to the airport. Reaching for the phone, she squealed in surprise when it rang beneath her hand.

Looking at Tiny, she rolled her eyes and answered. "Hello?"

What she heard made her breathless with laughter. True to her nature, Brooke was on the other end, singing at the top of her lungs, in a high-pitched nasal voice.

Before she could draw another breath to finish the tune Morgan started speaking. "Hey girl, what are you doing?"

"Man, how did you know it was me?"

Morgan lifted an eyebrow and shook her head. "Because you're the only one who calls me on my birthday brave enough to sing that song."

"Only because I love ya."

Brooke's laughter was loud in Morgan's ear and she held the phone out until she heard silence on the other end. "Only to annoy me is more like it. But, I'll let you slide this year."

Brooke snorted and Morgan heard the snick of a lighter seconds before she inhaled deeply. "You mean just like you do every year. So... what are you doing for your birthday tonight?" Brooke recalled that last year Morgan had sat at home refusing to go anywhere to celebrate.

Morgan thought about lying but changed her mind when she looked at Tiny pacing the living-room. "I'm taking a trip to Arkansas."

"Arkansas?" Brooke coughed on the smoke from her cigarette. Her voice was high pitched with shock when she finally spoke. "Why would you want to spend your birthday in Arkansas?"

She knew Brooke would ask a ton of questions and freak out if she told her the truth about why she was going. Since she didn't know if it was going to be a wasted trip, she decided to hold off on telling her until she got back.

"Actually, I'm going on another business trip. Which reminds me, can you watch Tiny for me until I get back?"

She looked down at Tiny when she heard his hiss of disapproval and mouthed, 'I'm sorry'. She hated to leave him again so soon but, she knew that if she took him with her Brooke would know this was more than just a business trip.

Brooke's groan seemed to fill the room. "Do I have to? You know he doesn't like me that much. The last time I kept him, he tore up my couch and chair."

Morgan remembered just how much Tiny did not like staying with Brooke; it had cost her two paychecks to pay for new furniture. "Please, Brooke? I can't very well leave him here by himself. I promise you, I will replace anything he destroys."

"Okay, okay, I'll keep him." Morgan smiled to herself as Brooke gave in. "When should I expect you and Tiny?"

She thought about how long it would take to make her travel arrangements, get her things together, and grab a quick shower. "I should be ready to leave in about two hours, unless I can get booked on an early flight, then I'll have to rush. How about if I just call you when I find out what time my flight leaves?"

"Sounds like a plan. Talk to you later." Brooke hung up before Morgan could respond.

Hanging up, Morgan looked over at Tiny and shook her head. "Sorry ol' boy but, it looks like you'll be staying with Aunt Brooke for a few days."

Tiny showed her his teeth before turning around and walking out of the room, the hair on his back bristled in anger.

'Sometimes I wonder if he really understands me?'

Morgan watched him walk away and bit her lip when he looked back at her with another hiss.

When she called the airport, she was shocked to learn that the next flight out was leaving within the next hour and a half.

After calling Brooke back, she had to rush in order to get to the airport on time. When she got her suitcase from under the bed, she wondered why it was still packed. Opening it up, she saw that all her best clothes were folded neatly inside.

'Well I don't have time to worry about it right now.' Zipping it back up, she whistled for Tiny and headed for the front door.

After dropping off a very displeased Tiny, she glanced at her watch and sped toward the airport, praying they didn't leave without her. 'Damn it, I hate being rushed."

Pulling into the airport, she found a parking spot, grabbed her suitcase from the back seat of her car and ran toward the terminal.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she found her gate and saw that they were still boarding.

As she settled back in her seat, she let out a tired sigh and thought about the busy morning she had just gone through and the day wasn't even over yet.

"Could this day get any worse?" Her words were a whispered breath of air as she drifted off to sleep.

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# CHAPTER THREE

The house was dark when she stepped through the door. A cold mist was swirling around her feet and she could swear she heard a child crying very softly. As she reached out for the light switch, the door slammed shut behind her and she screamed as the room was plunged into total darkness.

Laughter, that was pure evil, swelled up around her. It seemed to be coming from all sides at once. Spinning around, she reached out for the door handle. Before she could grab a hold of it, she felt something grip her around the upper arms and start shaking her. Her screams grew in volume as she tried to break free from the hold. She could see a red pulsing light coming toward her face...

Morgan came awake with a start and a scream dying in her throat. Glancing around, she saw that the woman in the seat next to her still had her hand on her arm.

"Are you okay dear?" The woman had a worried look on her face.

Shaking her head to clear the last of the dream away, Morgan turned her face away from the woman and looked down at her lap. "I'm sorry, I... I guess I had a bad dream."

"I should say so." Morgan looked over from the corner of her eye in time to see the woman shudder. "It sounded like you were being killed or something." Giving Morgan an uncertain look, the woman turned her face toward the window.

Morgan let out an uneasy breath as a voice came over the speaker, letting the passengers know that they were about to land in Little Rock, Arkansas.

Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was just after one in the afternoon. Looking through her purse she pulled out the directions Jackson St. Claire had giving her. She figured she could be at his office around two, depending on the traffic.

Getting off the plane, she retrieved her suitcase and made a beeline toward the nearest phone. After calling Mr. St. Clair's office and making an appointment for two-fifteen, she hailed a cab and gave the driver the address. Sitting back against the seat, she thought about what she was walking into and chewed her cheek as she looked out at the passing scenery.

"What will happen if I'm not the right Morgan Dupree? What if I am and all I'm getting is another pile of bills to add to my own? After this trip, I am now officially broke. I can't afford my own debts, let alone someone else's. Thank God, my plane ticket is round trip. God, why didn't I think about this before I left home?"

Shaking her head, she tried to stop thinking negatively and concentrate on the passing traffic and businesses.

Her heart kicked in her chest when the cab pulled up in front of a towering office building. Pulling money from her purse, she paid the driver before opening the door and stepping out of the cab.

She craned her neck back and looked up at the mirrored windows, her hand shielding her eyes from the sun.

"You going to stand there all day or what?"

Morgan jumped at the harshness in the cab drivers voice. "Sorry." Pulling her suitcase out, she slammed the cab door and turned back toward the building and made her way inside. Cold air enveloped her as she stepped through the glass doors and she looked around nervously. Taking a deep breath, she walked up to the front desk and waited for the secretary to acknowledge her.

"Can I help you?"

Morgan swallowed past the sudden dryness in her throat. "I have an appointment for two-fifteen."

Smiling, the secretary lifted the receiver to her ear again. "Which of our associates are you here to see?"

"Oh, sorry, Jackson St. Claire."

Nodding, the woman pushed a button and spoke into the phone before replacing it and waving toward the waiting area. "He'll be with you shortly."

"Thank you." Walking to the nearest chair, Morgan settled back, picked up a magazine and absently began flipping the pages.

To her surprise, she was ushered into Mr. St. Clair's office five minutes later. Heart pounding, she brushed her bangs back, took a deep breath and entered the office. When her eyes found the man standing behind the desk, she froze in her tracks and took another deep breath through her nose.

Her first thought upon seeing Jackson St. Clair was, 'DAMN!'. He was just about the sexiest man she had ever had the pleasure of meeting. Six foot-two, jet-black hair, tanned skin, and eyes the color of the sea, a strange mixture of blue and green.

Jackson's first thought, when he saw her, mirrored her own. The woman was beautiful. Around five feet, slender, red wavy hair that reached her waist and, unless she was wearing contacts, her eyes were bright purple.

Clearing his throat, he held out his hand. "Miss Dupree, thank you for coming so soon." 'Man, she is gorgeous and she smells heavenly.'

She couldn't help but smile as she sat her suitcase on the floor and shook his hand. He had a nice strong grip for someone who sat behind a desk all day. "Hello, Mr. St. Clair."

Releasing her hand, Jackson waved to the leather chair in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you." Taking her seat, she dug through her purse and pulled out her wallet. "I believe you wanted to see some identification."

He felt a blush creep up his neck as he took the proffered items. "Well it's just to be safe."

Morgan sat twisting her fingers while he compared her I.D. to the papers in front of him. 'He's going to tell me I've wasted my time.' The thought kept replaying over in her head and she bit down on the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood.

After what seemed like an eternity, he lowered the papers and looked at her. "Would you like something to drink, Miss Dupree?"

'Great, here it comes'. "No thank you and please, call me Morgan."

Jackson walked over to the mini bar in the corner, looked at her over his shoulder and smiled. "Morgan, it is and, you may call me Jackson."

Morgan shifted in her chair and closed her eyes in embarrassment at the noise it made. 'Kill me now.' "That..."

"Happens all the time." He watched her as he walked back to his desk. 'She's as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs'.

Sitting down again, he began shuffling papers around until he decided she had squirmed enough. "Well, Miss... I mean, Morgan, after careful examination of all the documents you've brought, it appears you are in fact the Miss Morgan Elaine Dupree I was searching for. So, if I could just get you to sign these papers..."

"Excuse me, but why do I need to sign anything and what am I signing for, exactly?"

He looked at her for a full minute before replying. "I can't very well give you your inheritance until you've signed these papers."

She took a deep breath and asked again. "What exactly am I signing for?"

He looked at her to see if she was joking. She was not; he could plainly see that she didn't have a clue as to what she was getting. "Once you sign these papers you will be a very rich woman. I have to get your signature in order to give you control of it."

"How... how much money?" She held her breath as she waited for him to reply.

"I can't tell you that until you sign these papers. Once we transfer ownership, I'll answer any questions you may have." Pressing a button on his phone, he asked his assistant to join them.

"Terry, this is Miss Dupree. Would you mind being a witness to the signing of these documents?"

"Sure thing, Jack." Terry smiled and shook Morgan's hand. "Ma'am."

Passing the papers to Morgan, Jackson showed her where to sign her name.

When she finished, he signed his own name before passing the papers to Terry for his signature. "Terry will get these filed with the courts and I'll mail you a copy later. Thank you, Terry."

After Terry left, Jackson turned back to Morgan. "Now to answer your earlier question, you have just taken control of a very substantial amount of money."

Her breath caught in her throat. "When you say substantial, how much are you talking about?"

"Well, with the stocks, bonds, and cash it comes to around two-hundred million dollars." He watched as her face paled and he thought she was about to pass out.

She felt like someone had just hit her in the chest with a sledge hammer.

Catching her breath was painful. "I... I think I'll take that drink now, if you're still offering."

Pushing his chair back, he stood and walked back to the bar. Looking over his shoulder, he noticed her eyes had a faraway look in them. "Are you okay? Maybe you'd like water instead?"

Morgan shook her head and absently ran a hand through her hair. "I think I need something a little stronger than water." Taking the glass from his hand, she lifted it to her lips and took a drink, wincing as the liquid burned her throat. Tilting the glass again, she finished her drink and sighed as she felt her body begin to relax. Her hands quit shaking and she realized she felt a little calmer and more than a little light headed. "Okay, why am I getting this money?"

He smiled at her, thinking she was joking. "Come on, Morgan, as if your parents didn't tell you about your trust fund."

Maybe it was the Scotch that made her start giggling, or maybe it was nerves? Whichever it was, she couldn't seem to stop. Drawing a breath and wiping her eyes, she was able to stop laughing long enough to answer. "Well, no actually they didn't. You... you see, I have been poor my whole life. I used my rent money to pay for my plane ticket and a cheap motel room. An... and I just spent almost all of what was left paying for a taxi to get here from the airport." With that said, she broke into another fit of giggles.

Jackson got up and took her glass out of her hand.

"Oh, are you getting me another one?" She watched him walk back toward the bar and bit her lip when she felt a giggle tickle her throat.

"I think you've had enough, don't you?" He watched as her cheeks grew red and he waited for her angry retort.

Choking off a nasty reply, she laid a hand against her stomach and swallowed a few times. "Maybe you're right; I am feeling a little queasy."

"You don't drink much, do you?" He watched her to see if she was going to be sick.

She stared at him for a second before answering. "No, that's the first time I've had anything stronger than a glass of wine, and I had that earlier to celebrate my birthday."

When he came back to his desk, he handed her a cup of black coffee. "Here, drink this. I need you clear headed so we can finish our business."

He took the time to study her as she drank her coffee, even half-loaded she was a cutie. His gaze kept going to her eyes and he smiled when she lifted a questioning brow. "I hope I don't offend you, but are you wearing contact lenses?"

She took another sip of her coffee and shook her head. "No, it's my real eye color. And, I'm not offended, people ask me that all the time. Now my hair is another thing, naturally jet-black. But it makes me look so pale that I keep it dyed red."

He waited until she sat her cup down before he began telling her how she came to inherit such a large sum of money. "I have a client who claims to be related to you. She had a trust fund sat up for you, by my father, on the day you were born. You could only inherit on your twenty-first birthday. The only thing we are to keep from you is the identity of our client, who wishes to remain unnamed at this time." He held his hand up when she opened her mouth to speak. "She told my father that when it is time, she will let you know who she is herself. Our firm is not to interfere in any way on that point."

"Ookaaay." She still wasn't sure if Jackson was pulling her leg or not. She decided to test him. "If, as you say, all this money is mine, when do I get it?"

He pushed back from his desk far enough to open the bottom drawer. Reaching in, he pulled out a folder and laid it on his desk. Opening the folder, he removed a small manila envelope and tossed it across the desk to her. "This is what you're going to need to gain access to the money at the bank. Now, as I've said before, it's not all in cash." Pushing the folder across the desk, he pointed at it and waited for her to look at him. "In this folder are the account papers for you to use at the bank to get into your safety deposit box. In the box, you will find your stocks and bonds, among other things."

Morgan looked up from the papers she was studying. "What do you mean by 'among other things'?"

"Well," Jackson leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together behind his head. "our client has been putting things into the box over the years; and before you ask the answer is no, I don't know what she has placed in there. We didn't ask and she's never made it known."

"So, I can use this money for anything I want?" She wanted to be sure she wasn't going to be locked up for spending money that wasn't hers to spend.

"Anything your little heart desires." The smile that curved his lips caused her to shift in her chair. "Why, is there something you want to buy?" He laughed low in his throat when she shifted again.

She gave him a smile of her own before looking down. "Well, yes, actually there is." Reaching down for her purse, which had ended up on the floor at some point, she pulled out the brochure about the house and laid it on his desk.

Jackson pulled the brochure closer and let out a low whistle of appreciation when he saw the picture of the house that graced the front of the brochure. "That's a damn fine house. Do you know where it's located?"

She nodded. "I've seen it once before and fell in love at first sight. I never thought I'd be able to afford something that nice, I guess I can now." She still couldn't wrap her mind around that little fact.

Opening the brochure, he saw the address of the house. "I know where this town is located. Have you called this number here to see how much the house is selling for?"

She gave him her best 'are you kidding me' look. "What would have been the point? I knew I couldn't afford it, so why tease myself?"

Before she could stop him, he picked up the phone and started dialing the number printed on the front of the brochure. Turning his back to her, he spoke into the phone, his voice so low she couldn't hear a word he was saying.

Watching him, she saw him nod his head a few times before he turned back to face her and hung up the phone. He was chewing the inside of his jaw and he refused to meet her eyes. She felt her heart drop and her shoulders sagged.

"It's sold already, isn't it?"

Jackson shook his head. "How bad do you want this house?" When he looked up, his intense gaze held hers until she glanced away.

Looking at her hands, she shrugged her shoulders. "It's not like I have to have it. It's just a pipe dream of mine."

He watched her for so long without saying anything that she started to get nervous again. "The person I just talked to said the house needs some major work done to it. Are you willing to spend the kind of money it may take to repair whatever needs repairing? It could get very expensive. Are you willing to put that kind of money into a dream?"

"How much money are you talking about?" Her voice was so low he had to strain to hear.

"I honestly don't know. But the house is selling for one hundred-twenty-five thousand dollars." He watched her eyes grow wide and he waited for her to tell him to forget about it.

Her breath lodged in her throat and she reached for the brochure again. The longer she stared at the house, the more sure she became that she had to have it. "Yes, I'm more than willing to put that kind of money into a dream."

"Alright, if you're that sure, then let's get the ball rolling, shall we?" He picked up the phone again and hit a single button before turning away.

She started to nod her head then stopped when a thought hit her. "Wait, how long will I have to wait until I can move in, after I buy the place?"

Turning enough to look at her, he reached out with one finger and hung the phone up before he shrugged. "I would think you could move in right away, unless the place is in an unlivable condition. Why? Are you in a hurry to move?" He couldn't help the smile that touched his lips every time he saw the bewildered look on her face, it was so damn cute. He found himself wondering what she looked like first thing in the mornings. 'Whoa, you do not want to go there, bubba.' Shaking his head to clear it of images of her naked, he waited to see if she would answer.

She didn't miss the glazed look that came over his face. "No and, if there's no reason for me to stay in Arkansas tonight, I would really like to get back home, if it's at all possible. I need to go pick up Tiny as soon as I can." She knew she'd probably lose her money from the motel and the penny pincher in her cringed.

"Who's Tiny," 'Does she have a kid?'

"Tiny is my kitty cat, I found him when he was just a kitten. He would never forgive me if I left him with my friend Brooke for too long." Love made her eyes darken as she explained to him who Tiny was.

"I take it Tiny doesn't like your friend." He chuckled when she scrunched up her nose.

"Not so very much." Morgan let out a little laugh of her own.

"Tell you what we'll do, you go home, get your cat and whatever else you'll need, and I'll get started on buying that house. I'll call you in a few days to update you and I'll fax you the papers you'll need to sign to finalize the deal when I get them ready, okay?"

Standing when he did, she picked up her suitcase and sighed. 'Guess I didn't need this after all.' "Okay, I guess I'll talk to you in a few days then?"

He held out his hand for her to shake. "Talk to you then." After shaking her hand, he picked up the phone and turned his back to her as he began talking, silently dismissing her.

As she was walking out the door, she remembered that she didn't know if she had enough money for a taxi ride to the bank and back to the airport. Embarrassed, she stepped back into the room and waited for him to complete his call.

When he turned to hang up the phone, he was surprised to see her still there. "Is something wrong?"

Cheeks flaming bright red, she cleared her throat. "I umm... I don't think I have enough money for a taxi."

They both started laughing at the irony of that statement.

"What were you planning to do for cab fare if you did have to stay the night?"

Morgan shrugged. "My motel is within walking distance from here. I figured, I only needed a cab from there back to the airport."

Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was almost quitting time. "How about I give you a lift to the bank so you can withdraw some cash?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to put you out or anything."

"Not a problem. It's almost quitting time and I have to drive right by the bank on my way home." He got up and put on his suit jacket. Reaching into the pocket for his keys, he started for the door.

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# CHAPTER FOUR

They rode to the bank in silence, neither having anything to say to the other.

"Here we are." As he pulled up to the curb, he noticed that she was biting her thumbnail and her leg was bouncing nervously. "Do you want I should go in with you?"

Wiping her hand on her jeans, she smiled at him and reached for the door handle. "I'm fine. I shouldn't be in there long. Wait for me?"

Jackson nodded and watched her as she slipped from the car and stared up at the bank.

Forcing herself to step away from the curb, she slowly walked up the sidewalk, pulled open the glass door and entered the bank lobby.

Looking around the cool interior, she approached the nearest desk and asked to speak with someone about accessing the account and safety deposit box.

"Is it your account and box?"

Nodding, Morgan handed the young woman the papers Jackson had given her.

The woman studied the papers for a few minutes before picking up the phone. "Mr. Cooper, I have a Miss Morgan Dupree here and... yes sir." Hanging up, she handed the papers back to Morgan and pointed to a row of leather chairs. "If you'd wait over there, Mr. Cooper will be with you in a few minutes."

Morgan smiled nervously and nodded mumbling, 'Thank you' before walking over to sit down.

She was settling back when the door next to her opened. "Miss Dupree?"

Looking up, she was surprised by the man standing in front of her. "Oh my... you look just like my dad."

The man laughed as he held out his hand. "Your dad, Ryan, is my cousin. It's nice to finally meet you."

Morgan stood and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you too."

"Well now, what can I help you with today?"

Morgan held out the paperwork to him. "I need to withdraw some money from this account."

Mr. Cooper read the papers and nodded. "Come into my office please." After Morgan entered, he eased the door half way closed and walked around to sit behind his desk and picked up the phone. "How much are you needing?"

She knew she needed to withdraw enough money for a cab ride and something to eat but, she decided to get enough to pick up something for Tiny and Brooke. "Maybe a couple hundred, is that okay?"

"You can get as much or as little as you want. About five hundred then?" Without waiting for her reply, he tapped a few buttons and spoke into the phone, giving the person on the other end her account number and telling them how much she would be getting. Hanging up the phone, he folded his hands in front of him and smiled.

"Joanie will be here in a minute with your money. Is there anything else you needed?"

She was shaking her head when she remembered the safety deposit box. "I'd like to get the contents from the safety deposit box while I'm here."

Joanie knocked and entered, carrying a small white envelope. "I hope twenties are okay."

Taking the envelope, Morgan's cheeks flushed as she counted the money before putting the envelope in her bag. "Thank you."

Mr. Cooper stood as Joanie walked out. "The deposit boxes are right down the hall."

Standing, she followed him down the hall and into a vault.

"Do you have your key with you?" Mr. Cooper led her to the row of deposit boxes and pointed at one of the larger doors before stepping back.

Stepping forward, Morgan put her key in the top slot, her brow wrinkling when she saw that there was a place for another key. Turning toward Mr. Cooper, she saw him bring out a second key and start walking toward her.

"We require a second key for safety reasons." Inserting the key, he turned both at the same time and pulled the door open before moving to the side.

After a brief hesitation, she pulled the box out of the wall and took it over to the table that was in the middle of the room. Taking a deep breath, Morgan opened the lid and looked down into the box.

The first thing she saw was another key attached to an envelope. Taking the envelope from the box, she opened it and pulled out a single sheet of paper. In the center of the page, written in fancy sweeping script was an address and the words.

"Thought you might need this."

There wasn't a signature on the note, no way to tell who had written it but, according to Jackson, this note was from "the lady" who had the account set up for her. Taking the rest of the things in the box, she studied each item, stocks and bonds as far as she could see, before stuffing them into her purse and closing the lid of the box. After putting the box back, she thanked Mr. Cooper before walking out to Jackson's car and handing him the note after getting in. "Can you take me here?" She buckled her seatbelt and passed him the key. "This was attached to the envelope that the note was in."

Taking the key, he absently slipped it into his shirt pocket while he studied the address for a few minutes. Chuckling silently to himself, he looked at her with a smile, then started his car and pulled back into traffic. Jackson knew exactly where they were going but decided not to tell her because he wanted it to be a surprise.

Morgan was looking at the papers in her lap and she didn't notice when they pulled into the parking lot of a car dealership.

When Jackson pulled to a stop, she looked up and saw where they were. "Why are we here?"

"This is where you wanted me to take you." He smiled when her eyes widened before she turned back toward the passenger side window.

"Are you sure this is the right place?"

He looked at the address again. "Yes ma'am, this is the right place." Putting the note in his pocket with the key, he opened his car door and got out. After a minute, Morgan opened her own door and followed him.

Holding the entrance door open for her, he gave a mock bow and waved his hand toward the interior. "After you."

Stepping in after her, he walked up to the front desk and asked to speak to the owner. Within minutes, a man, who was smiling at them as if they were long lost family members, came out to greet them.

"Hello." Extending his hand, he shook Jackson's hand. "How may I help you?"

Jackson shook his hand then took the key from his pocket. "We would like to see the car that belongs to this key."

Morgan didn't think the man's smile could get any bigger but, upon seeing the key, it did.

"Of course. You must be Morgan?" Turning his smiling face toward her, he extended his hand again. "It's so good to finally meet you. How was your flight?"

Before she could answer, he was already walking away, leaving them no choice but to follow.

When she stepped outside behind Jackson, she saw the most beautiful hunter green Jaguar parked at an angle near the door. She looked at Jackson and then turned her eyes on the dealership owner. "Is that my car?"

The man smiled again and nodded. "We were told to expect you sometime this week so, I had one of my guys get it ready for you."

Morgan didn't realize she was crying, until she saw the handkerchief Jackson held out to her. Drying her eyes, she looked at Jackson again. "Is this some sort of joke?"

"No, it's not a joke." Turning back to the smiling dealership owner, he asked what all she had to do in order to take ownership of the car.

"Just sign the title. Madam has already paid for it, put insurance on it, and had it tagged. So, when Miss Dupree is ready to leave, she may do so."

With that, the man shook their hands again and went back inside to get the paper work ready.

Morgan opened the car door and leaned in, her eyes automatically closing as she breathed in the smell of leather. She jumped when Jackson spoke near her ear.

"Do you like the color?"

Pulling her head from the car, she closed the door and turned to him. "It's beautiful. I'm almost scared to drive it."

Jackson laughed and opened the door to the dealership. "You'll love it once you get behind the wheel."

After signing the paperwork, Morgan put her things into her new car, thanked Jackson and slid behind the steering wheel, eager to get home.

As she was putting the car in reverse, Jackson tapped on her window and waited for her to roll it down. "Drive safely and remember, I'll give you a call when I have all the papers on your new house ready."

She smiled and nodded. "I'll be careful. And Jackson, thank you."

"Hey, don't thank me, I'm just doing my job," Backing away from her car, he watched as she eased the car forward. Giving her a wave, he turned and walked back to his own car.

Pulling into traffic, she turned the Jag toward home and reached out to turn the radio on before settling back into her seat with a nervous sigh. Her mind raced as she thought of all the things she was able to do for herself and Tiny now that she had the money.

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# CHAPTER FIVE

Morgan's heart began racing when she turned onto Brooke's street and she tightened her grip on the steering wheel. She wondered what her friend would think when she saw her pull up in a brand-new car. 'She's going to have a fit, that's what she's going to do.'

When she pulled into the driveway, she saw the curtains in the front window move and she knew Brooke must have heard her pull up. Taking a deep breath, she opened the car door and slowly stepped out, keeping an eye on the front door of Brooke's house.

Before the door even opened she could hear Brooke yelling from the inside. "No way!! No fucking way!"

When the door finally opened, Tiny rushed out and began rubbing against Morgan's leg. Squatting down, she wrapped her arms around the cat and gave him a hug before looking up at Brooke. "I would've called but..."

She had to brace herself for Brooke when she stood back up. Instead of the usual shoulder pat hug, Brooke picked her up in a bear hug so tight she was sure she could hear a few ribs cracking.

"Who'd you rob?"

Morgan stumbled back when Brooke sat her back on her feet and opened her mouth to respond.

Without waiting for a reply, Brooke started firing off questions so fast Morgan had to ask her to calm down in order to understand what she was saying.

"First, I didn't rob anybody," Morgan laughed at the disbelieving look on Brooke's face. "Second, let's go in and I'll tell you everything, okay?" She put an arm around Brooke's shoulders and guided her back into the house, looking back once to make sure Tiny was following.

Once inside, she sat on the couch with Tiny at her feet and proceeded to tell Brooke all that had happened since she had left, stopping every few words to answer the endless stream of questions from Brooke.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep calming breath before telling Brooke the hard part. "I'm moving to Arkansas."

"I can't believe you got all that money and a new car and... YOU'RE WHAT!?" Jumping to her feet, Brooke took a few steps away and glared down at Morgan. "Have you lost your damn mind? I know you've gone completely off your rocker now. What are you thinking girl? 'Moving to Arkansas', yeah right, when hell freezes over!" Brooke was red faced and out of breath by the time she finished.

Morgan opened her mouth to explain but stopped when she caught a movement from the corner of her eye. Tiny stood up and turned to face Brooke, who was walking toward Morgan with her hands fisted at her sides, and growled in warning.

Brooke stopped walking and pointed at Tiny. "If he comes near me I'll..."

Tiny took a step toward Brooke growling low in his chest.

"Morgan, call your cat." Brooke's voice shook when she spoke and she began taking slow steps backward, never taking her eyes off the cat.

Instead of calling his name, Morgan made a low humming sound, which seemed to echo around the room.

Tiny stopped his advance toward Brooke and looked back at her as if asking, "Are you sure?" When she nodded her head, he turned one last warning glare on Brooke before walking back to Morgan and laying down at her feet.

"Brooke, I'm so sorry." Standing, she looked down at Tiny and back toward Brooke. "I don't know what got into him. He's never done that before." She held her hand out to Brooke only to have it rejected.

Shaking her head, Brooke walked slowly to the front door and pulled it open. "Maybe you and Tiny should leave."

Morgan was stunned but, she understood Brooke's fear.

"Come Tiny." Morgan patted her leg as she started toward the open door, watching as Brooke stepped away from them. "I'll come back later so we can talk, okay?"

She felt her heart breaking when Brooke shook her head. "No Morgan, I don't think that would be a good idea. First, you tell me you're all of a sudden rich, then you're moving to Arkansas, and now your cat tries to attack me. I hope you're happy with your new life but... I don't think it should include me."

Brooke didn't try to wipe away the steady stream of tears that trickled down her cheeks as she said the words that would end their friendship and, Morgan wondered if this was the best thing for both of them. Looking into Brooke's eyes, she knew she had just lost her best friend and there was no way of changing her mind. Blinking quickly, to control her own tears, she stepped out onto the porch and walked slowly down the steps. She wanted to blame Tiny but couldn't. She knew that he was only trying to protect her from what he thought was a dangerous situation.

Waving a weak good-bye, she waited for Tiny to get into the car before sliding in after him and driving away from Brooke's house for the last time.

When she got home, she found a message from Jackson letting her know that he had completed the deal on her house and that she could move in at any time.

It took her three days to pack her things and hire a moving company. After one last glance around, she settled in behind the steering wheel of her Jag to begin the long drive to her new home in Arkansas. She drove by Brooke's house on her way out of town and she felt her heart squeeze in longing for the one final goodbye conversation and her foot lifted from the gas pedal.

Hearing a low growl from Tiny, she looked over at him and nodded. "You're right. It's time to leave the past behind and start over in a new place." Pressing her foot back down on the gas, she sat up straighter and drove away without looking back.

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# CHAPTER SIX

Morgan was unpacking her kitchen supplies when the doorbell rang. Wiping her hands on her faded jeans, she ran toward the living room and after working up a smile for her visitor, she opened the door and found herself looking up at Jackson.

"He... hello." Her smiled widened and she felt her heartbeat quicken at the sight of his handsome, smiling face.

"Hello yourself." As the seconds ticked away, his smile faltered and color rushed to his cheeks. "May I come in?"

Heat flooded Morgan's face and she quickly stepped to the side. "Of course, I'm sorry, come in please." She lifted a hand to one burning cheek and scolded herself as she opened the door wider. 'What the hell is wrong with you?'

"Thank you, I wi... What the hell is that?!" Jackson's face twisted in fear as he retreated further back on the porch with more speed than he thought he was capable of gaining.

"Where?" Spinning around, Morgan looked around the foyer, her eye wide.

"There." Pointing a shaking finger to her left, he studied the animal at her side.

Placing a hand to her pounding heart, she glanced at Tiny before replying. "That, as you just called him, is my cat, Tiny."

"Lady, I have you know that is no cat, that is a panther. Believe me there is a big difference between the two."

Tiny gave Jackson a look that said, "Well aren't you a bright one.", before showing his teeth and turning away to finish exploring his new domain.

Morgan covered her mouth and tried to stop the laughter that bubbled up in her throat when she saw the look on Jackson's face. 'You would think a big man like him wouldn't be afraid of anything.' She kept throwing glances at him over her shoulder as she walked further into the house. When he stopped at the entrance of the front door she turned back to face him and motioned for him to follow her. "It's okay, he won't bother you as long as you don't bother me."

Looking around to make sure there would be no more surprises, he slowly entered the house, closing the door behind him. "Ummm... I have your deed and some other papers for you to sign. Did you find the problems the former owner mentioned?"

"No, actually." Turning back to face him, she propped her hands on her hips and shrugged. "I've been all through this house, from top to bottom, inside and out, and I can't find not one damn thing that needs to be repaired. I called in an inspector to look the place over and he couldn't find any damage either."

He gave her a puzzled look. "But the former owner said the house needed a lot of work. Are you sure you checked everything?"

Walking over to the table, she picked up the report from the inspector and handed it to him. "As you can see, everything is in perfect working order. Unless this guy missed something, there's no sign of the damage the last owner told you about."

Jackson read over the report twice before handing it back. "If there's no damage to the house, then what the hell was the guy talking about?"

Morgan shrugged again. "Damned if I know but, I'm sure it won't take long to find out. Maybe the place is full of mice or something, although, I have yet to see any."

"It has to be something more, Morgan." He raked his hand through his hair. "If this house is as sound as that report claims, it could have sold for a million easy."

Her eyes widened in shock. "Are you sure? I mean... you're joking, right?"

"This is no joke. Look around you." He made a sweeping gesture with his arms. "This is a freaking palace. Is this your furniture?"

"It is now, it came with the house." Morgan could hear the excitement building on his face and she looked around the kitchen again, trying to see it the way he saw it.

"Everything I see here is antique, except for what you brought with you. Everything is well over one hundred years old. See this table?" He gently placed his hand on the dining table, running his fingers over the wood grain.

"Yeah, pretty huh?" Morgan smiled as she ran her hand across the top.

"Pretty?" Throwing back his head, he let out a thunderous laugh. "Pretty? Morgan, this table alone is worth over two-hundred thousand dollars. Don't you see? This table is worth more than you paid for your whole damn house."

"Bullshit! Why would someone leave all this stuff if it were worth so much?" She looked around at the rest of the things in the kitchen. He was right about one thing, her belongings seemed to be the only things from this century.

"I shit you not and, I agree; why would anyone leave it all behind?" He walked around the room picking up objects, looking at them, and then setting them back down delicately.

'This set of china alone could set me up for life.' He shook his head in wonder before setting down the cup he had been looking at.

"Did you meet the guy who sold the house?" She was curious about what kind of person he was. 'Was he crazy? Too rich to care about leaving his antiques behind? Maybe he didn't think he would need the stuff anymore.'

Jackson sat down with a sigh and ran a hand over his face. "No, I never met the guy. We handled all of our business over the phone or by mail. But, I know what you're thinking and the guy didn't sound like a nut job to me."

"Did he mention if he was coming back for these things later or not? I assumed that when I bought the place it would be empty, but when I got here and saw this stuff, I thought it came with the house. Was I wrong?" Her mind suddenly filled with worry. When she saw that the house was furnished, she had gone through the entire place and decided she wasn't going to keep her old furniture. Instead of selling it, she donated it to the salvation army and made a call to them to make arrangements for them to pick it up later in the week.

Jackson leaned over and picked up his briefcase and placed it on the table before opening it and taking out the papers he had brought over for her. "As you will read here; after you sign these documents you, own everything lock, stock and barrel. It clearly states, 'As is', meaning you buy everything, including the household items. Whatever is here is yours. Even if some other family member of his tries to get it, they will not be able to do so."

While she was reading over the documents, Tiny walked into the room and over to his water bowl.

"That really is a big ass panther." Jackson stiffened up as Tiny walked by. He had never been this close to such a big animal, never wanted to be either.

Morgan looked up from the papers she was reading when she felt Tiny press against her arm. "Yeah, he is", Laying a hand on his head, she scratched between his ears. "I didn't think he would get this big, but it's not a problem. I feel safer with him around."

"I'm sure you do." Jackson kept a watchful eye on the animal. "How much does he weigh?"

Morgan glanced down into Tiny's brilliant green eyes. "I'm not sure. The last time I took him in for a check-up the vet said he was seventeen pounds over-weight. But that was six months ago."

Tiny arched his back, yawing, and Jackson saw his huge teeth, teeth that looked as sharp as razor blades. 'How could anyone not feel safe if they had that for a pet.' "You actually found a vet that would look at him?"

"Well, it wasn't easy, that's for sure. I just happened to see this guy's ad in the Sunday paper one morning that said he specialized in exotic animals. Turns out, he was great with Tiny and Tiny seemed to really like him."

"What are you going to do for a vet now?"

Morgan smiled when Tiny nudged her hand again, silently begging for more scratches. "Dr. Vincent said he'd make a few calls and get back to me soon. I trust him and I know he'll find the best vet for Tiny."

Jackson stood slowly and snapped his briefcase closed. "Well, I really should be going now. Look over those documents carefully, make sure everything is in order. After you've signed them, you can mail them back to my office."

"Oh, that won't be necessary." Walking over to a china cabinet sitting in the corner, she pulled open a drawer, removed a pen and walked back to the table. "I'm happy with what I've read. After all, the place isn't really mine until I sign these, right?" After she was finished signing the papers, she pushed them across the table toward him. "Thank you for bringing them out for me but, I would've driven up to your office, you know?"

"It wasn't a problem, besides I wanted to get a look at the place myself. To be honest, I thought perhaps you might be getting screwed, but I can see the guy didn't screw anyone but himself." Jackson took one last look around before starting for the door, Morgan following close behind. "If there's anything you need, you have my number. My home number is on the bottom of my card and you may call me at any time for anything."

She held out her hand for him to shake. "Thank you, but hopefully I won't have to bother you at home."

After shaking her hand, he stepped out onto the porch. "Do you have a lawyer of your own?"

"Well, I hope I do." Looking up at him, she laughed softly. "I was hoping I could hire you."

The smile that broke out across his face caused a flutter in Morgan's stomach. "Miss Dupree, it would be my pleasure to represent you."

Morgan watched him drive away before turning back into the house and closing the door. "Well Tiny, we have a hunk for a lawyer and own a house that used to belong to a fruitcake. Oh, and we're filthy rich. Who would have... Tiny?"

A sound, like a distant rumble of thunder, reached her ears. The hairs on the back of Morgan's neck stood up, and she cautiously stepped away from the door. She looked into the kitchen as she walked by, searching for any sign of Tiny. She found him standing in front of the library door, head down, body tense, ready to spring forward.

"Tiny, what's wrong?"

In answer, his growl grew louder and his body started to shake.

Morgan's legs began shaking and she placed a hand on top of Tiny's head, whatever was upsetting Tiny this much couldn't be good. Walking around him, she reached out and turned the doorknob. The door was only open a crack when he lunged by her, knocking her to her knees in his hurry to get into the room.

She watched from her position on the floor as he stalked around the room, no longer growling but still tense. He went around the room three times before returning to her side.

Getting to her feet, she started to walk into the room, only to have her way blocked when Tiny stepped in front of her. No matter which way she stepped, he was stepping with her, preventing her from entering the room.

"Fine, have it your way. I won't go in there."

Tiny waited until she was completely out of the room before he followed her. Only after she had the door closed did he walk away, glancing over his shoulder as if making sure she didn't try to go back in once he was gone.

Morgan watched him walk down the hallway, not sure what to think of what had just occurred. He had never acted this way before but, ever since that day at Brooke's house, it seemed as if he stayed on edge.

'Maybe he feels my stress?' Casting one last thoughtful look at the library door, she followed him down the hall and back into the kitchen so she could finish putting away the dishes.

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# CHAPTER SEVEN

Morgan was lying in bed listening to the sounds of the house around her as she tried to slip into sleep, her foot moving rhythmically as she rubbed Tiny's back as he lay at the foot of the bed. Tiny growled at the same time she heard a soft noise.

At first, she thought it was the sound of the house settling in for the night, as most old houses do. However, the longer she listened, the more sure she became that it was a child crying.

Morgan glanced at Tiny. "Do you hear that?"

When he growled again, she knew he had heard it too. As she sat up in bed, the crying seemed to get louder, as did Tiny's growl.

Her brow creased as she debated with herself about getting up to investigate. When the crying turned in to a scream of pain, she threw back the covers and jumped from the bed. Tiny jumped down beside her and hissed in warning. Putting on her robe, she went to her bedroom door and pressed her ear against the cool wood. She was reaching out to turn the knob when she heard the scream come again, this time full of agony and terror.

Tiny let out a roar of anger and sprang toward the door, his claws sinking into the wood.

"Fuck that." Turning, she ran to her nightstand and picked up her three-fifty-seven magnum, which she kept by the bed at all times. Making sure the safety was off, she went back to the door and pressed her ear to it again, holding her breath and listening to the sounds from the other side. Hearing nothing to indicate that someone was on the other side of the door, waiting for her to come out, she slowly pulled it open and held the pistol out in front of her.

Raising her voice to be heard, she bellowed in the direction of the stairs. "Okay! If you're still out there, I have a gun. I will blow your balls off for hurting that child! And if I don't get you, my cat sure as hell will!"

Holding the pistol in one hand, she reached down with the other to keep Tiny in the room. She cocked her head and waited but, other than the little girl crying, she heard nothing. Looking around the hall, to make sure she was alone, she grabbed Tiny by the collar to keep him at her side as she started down the hallway.

Her ears rang as she strained them trying to find the direction the crying was coming from, but it seemed to be coming from all around her. Opening every door she came to, she turned on the lights and looked around as she slowly made her way toward the stairs.

Approaching the head of the staircase, she saw a mist hovering about two feet above the floor and she instantly remembered her dreams. Her hand tightened around Tiny's collar and she felt him lunge forward.

"What the hell is that?" The only time she had ever seen anything like it was in her dream. In front of her was a white fog like substance with what appeared to be a light shimmering in the middle.

She sniffed the air to make sure that what she was seeing wasn't smoke from a fire. As she drew closer, the mist started floating down the staircase and, glancing down at Tiny, she wondered if she should follow.

Tiny took a step forward, making the decision for her. Adjusting her hand, she made sure she had a tight grip on his collar and slowly began descending the stairs, keeping her eyes on the mist that floated in front of her. When the mist reached the bottom stair, the mist started changing color, from white to red to green to baby blue, back to white. The closer it got to the living room the faster it seemed to change, like a colorful strobe light.

Morgan followed the mist into the living room and stopped in the doorway. The mist seemed to be hovering in the middle of the room and, as she watched, it began fading away, leaving in its place what appeared to be a little girl wearing a blue velvet dress, with tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Oh, hell no. I must still be asle..."

Before she could finish the sentence, she felt Tiny's claws sink into her leg.

'Well I'm definitely not dreaming.' Reaching down, she began to extract his claws from her leg, sucking air between her teeth as her leg began to burn. Glancing back at the little girl, her heart squeezed at the pain she saw in her eyes. "What's your name, honey?" 'Hell may as well give it a shot. If I can hear her, maybe she can hear me'.

Morgan watched the girls face, trying to see if she had heard the question.

As she opened her mouth to ask again, Morgan heard a soft whisper. "My name is May."

The hurt in May's voice caused Morgan to start shaking with rage. Someone had caused this child a great deal of pain. Gritting her teeth in an attempt to control her emotions, Morgan opened her mouth to ask what was wrong.

Before she could speak, May started screaming again. "Stop, please stop! I'll be good, I promise! Please stop!"

Morgan watched in shocked horror, as May fell to the floor and started rolling from side to side, as if trying to ward off blows to her body.

"May!" Morgan screamed and ran forward only to be stopped after a few steps when Tiny jumped in front of her, growling low in his throat.

He was looking toward May, his lips pulled back in a vicious snarl, teeth bared in anger.

Morgan noticed that he was not looking at May but above her. "What is it boy?" Narrowing her eyes, she tried to see what was upsetting him but, no matter how hard she strained her eyes, she couldn't see what he was seeing in the darkened room.

Morgan ran back to the light switch and flipped it on, closing her eyes against the sudden brightness. Looking back into the room, she saw a black cloud hanging over May.

She drew in a shocked breath and thought her heart was going to jump from her chest when the figure of a woman appeared to step from the cloud.

The hairs stood up on her arms and she could feel the evil coming from the woman. The feeling was so strong it caused the muscles in her body to tighten and ache.

Tiny's growl turned into a roar of fury when the woman brought her hand from behind her back.

As Morgan watched, the woman raised her hand above her head. The breath became lodged in Morgan's throat when she saw what was in her hand. The woman was clutching a red-hot poker and Morgan knew that May was about to be hit with it.

"Hey!" Morgan raised her arm and pointed the gun at the woman's chest. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She was so caught up in the moment that she forgot the woman she was yelling at was a ghost. When the woman began to bring her arm down in a vicious swing toward May, Morgan pulled the trigger; all thought gone from her mind except that of saving May from this evil woman. Morgan's arm jerked up and she watched as the bullet disappeared into the black mist.

The woman dropped the poker and staggered back, clutching her arm against her chest. Her head snapped up and her eyes were filled with hate when she focused on Morgan. "Who are you?" Her raspy voice sent a shiver down Morgan's spine.

Never in her life had she heard a voice that sounded so evil.

Instead of answering the woman's question, Morgan pointed to the child lying motionless on the floor. "Why are you doing this to her?"

Throwing back her head, the woman let out a laugh that would have had the hounds of hell running in fear. "Who are you to question what I do to my own child? What? You think you can save her? No one has been able to save her. You will be no different. You will run like everyone else." The woman didn't appear to see Tiny until she took a step toward Morgan.

Morgan lifted a questioning eyebrow, amazed when she saw actual fear enter the woman's eyes. "Run? I wouldn't be so sure about that, you demonic bitch." She didn't even try to hold back the smile that touched her lips when she glanced at the woman's arm. "After all, if I can make you bleed then surely I can send you to hell where you belong." Morgan raised the gun again and took aim at the woman's heart, chuckling at the fear that crossed her face.

The woman's face contorted and she screamed in anger as she started to disappear. "Not tonight, you little bitch! Not ever if I have anything to do with it."

Lowering her arm, Morgan looked back down to where May had falling but the spot was now empty. The only thing there was a blue hair ribbon that was blackened, as if it had been in a fire.

Bending to pick it up, she heard a small whispering voice near her ear. "Thank you for saving me tonight, but you can't protect me forever."

She knew the voice belonged to May but, when she looked around the room, no one was there. "I swear if it's the last thing I do, I will set you free from this nightmare, May."

Walking back upstairs with Tiny, she vowed that she would go into town the next day and find out what had happened in her house.

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# CHAPTER EIGHT

Waking up the next morning, Morgan tried to convince herself that she had dreamed everything that had happened last night.

Rolling over and opening her eyes, she stared at the ceiling, her vision slightly blurry. "Damn, that was weird."

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she glanced toward her nightstand to check the time and her eyes fell upon the ribbon that she put there last night.

"Not a dream?" She looked around the room for Tiny and spotted him lying in front of her bedroom door.

"Tiny? What are you doing way over there?"

Getting to his feet, he walked over to the bed and looked into her eyes, purring deep in his chest. Instead of jumping up on the bed like usual, he grabbed the edge of the covers in his teeth and pulled them to the floor.

"Okay, I get it, you have to go." She laughed and sat up, scratching him between the ears before getting out of the bed and walking over to open the door. Going down the stairs, she half expected to see the strange mist again. Walking into the kitchen, she flipped the light on before entering the mudroom and opening the door to let Tiny outside. Closing the door behind him, she watched him until he entered the woods before turning the dead bolt and going back into the kitchen. After putting on a pot of coffee, she went back upstairs to take care of her own needs.

Standing beneath the hot spray of water from the shower, she thought of all the strange things that had taken place last night. Even though she saw the hair ribbon on her nightstand, she still had trouble believing that it really happened.

'I'll have to check out the living room to be sure.' An image of the woman flashed through her mind as she was drying off and she shivered from a sudden brush of cold air against her back. Spinning, she looked behind her and laughed to herself when she found the room beyond empty.

After getting dressed, she walked back downstairs and was almost to the living room when she decided to wait until after she had eaten breakfast to check things out. "No sense ruining my day so soon if I don't have to."

Her stomach rumbled and reminded her that she still needed to feed herself and Tiny. Using that as an excuse to put off going into the living room, she made her way into the kitchen. After opening the mudroom door, she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of eggs and a family package of bacon.

"Well, I can't sit here all day." She rolled her eyes when Tiny looked at her and grunted before laying his head on his paws and closing his eyes.

Gathering her courage close, she took a deep breath before pushing away from the table. She wiped her sweaty palms on the legs of her jeans as she walked into the living room.

Scanning the room, she could see where May had falling and frowned when she saw a burnt spot on the rug. Kneeling down, she inspected the spot, running her fingers over the area and sniffing the air. When she looked over to where she thought the woman had been, her eyes widened in shock when she saw what appeared to be blood staining the rug.

"Well I'll be damn. I guess I really did shoot the bitch." Smiling, she stood and returned to the kitchen to make a list of supplies she needed to get from town.

It wasn't until she was sitting down at the table to start her list that she questioned what she had seen in the living room.

"May and the woman are ghosts. How in hell can a ghost bleed?"

Tiny grunted again and she quickly scribbled the word "bullets" across the top of her list. "Better to be safe than sorry, I guess."

She tried to enjoy the early morning scenery on the way to town but, she couldn't stop thinking about what she had witnessed in her home last night. Could I have dreamed it all? Maybe. But, that doesn't explain the ribbon, blood, and the scorch marks on the living-room rug. No, it had to have happened. The only other thing that would explain what had happened is that I'm losing my damned mind.

She didn't like thinking that she was going crazy. She knew a woman once who had lost her sanity and it wasn't a pretty sight to see.

Morgan couldn't control the shiver that was coursing through her body, as she remembered how her friend, Maddison, had pulled fists full of her own hair out by the roots. By the time they had gotten her restrained, she had nothing left but a bloody scalp with a few clumps of hair hanging on thin strips of flesh.

Morgan shook her head to clear her thoughts. "No, I don't think I'm crazy. At least... not yet anyway."

The first stop she made when she got into town was at the local city hall. After introducing herself, she gave the receptionist her address and she asked to see the records of past residents who had owned her house. To her surprise, the records showed that over fifty people had owned her house since the day it was built in 1825. The house was listed as "The Silver Star".

"Well that's an odd name for a house."

The receptionist walked over to her and stared down at the papers. "They say the guy who had it built was odd himself. But I'm only going by what I was told as a little girl." Her voice was a low whisper and she glanced quickly over her shoulder as if afraid someone might have heard her.

Morgan lowered her voice and leaned closer to the woman. "Do you know anything about this house? Its history or anything?"

Morgan saw the look of fear that crossed the woman's face before she turned back toward her desk and pretended to straighten up some papers.

"No. Now, if you will excuse me I have a lot of work to do."

"Can I get a copy of these papers, please?"

"The copier is in the corner." The woman pointed to the right and spoke without looking at Morgan. "It's ten cents per sheet."

After getting her copies, she thanked the receptionist and walked out, wondering what the woman was trying to hide.

Stepping out of the building, she looked down the street and saw the library across the street. She nodded to the few people she met and wondered why they edged away from her.

Pushing the glass doors of the library open, she walked up to the front desk and she asked to see the newspapers dating back to 1825.

The man sitting there, pointed toward a flight of stairs and spoke without looking up. "Second floor, third row down, you should find what you're looking for."

Morgan looked in the direction he was pointing. "Thank you."

Making her way up the stairs, she admired the high domed ceiling and the wooden shelves crowded with antique books.

Her mouth dropped open in shock when she reached the third row. She couldn't believe her eyes when she saw the stacks of newspapers on the floor and lining the shelves.

"Have these people never heard of microfilm?" She wanted nothing more in that moment than to turn and walk away but, she had made a promise and she tried never to break a promise. Releasing a heavy sigh, she looked over the railing at the librarian before turning back toward the stacks of newspapers and picking up the nearest one.

She found what she was looking for in the fourth stack and, taking what she needed, she went to a table and started looking through each one, trying to find any mention of her house. From 1825-1900 the only time the house was mentioned was in the gossip section about a ball that had been held there a week after it was built. In the 1901 June issue, she came across a picture of her house on the front page but, the bottom half of the paper was missing, as if someone had ripped it off because they didn't want others to read what had been written about the house.

Looking through the rest of the papers, she saw that, whenever the house was mentioned, the articles were ripped out.

Going back downstairs, she walked up to the front desk. "Excuse me, can you help me up there?"

Rolling his eyes and sighing, the librarian followed her up the stairs and back to her table. "Is there a problem?"

Instead of answering, she handed him the first paper with the house on the front page.

The librarian appeared to be just as shocked as she was upon seeing the damaged paper. "Ma'am, I can assure you this was in perfect condition when I opened this morning."

"Well they aren't now." Looking at the rest of the papers, her eye's narrowed with suspicion. "How do you know they were in perfect condition? Has someone else looked at them this morning?"

"No. You are the only one who has asked to see them in at least twenty years. I should know, I've been here for thirty years." He was looking at her as if she were the one who had ripped the articles out.

"Well I sure didn't do it, so you can quit looking at me like that." She could feel her temper starting to rise.

"If you didn't, then who else could have, since you're the only person who has been up here today?" His lips pulled back baring his teeth like a rabid dog.

"Maybe you did it, you four-eyed little shit. Maybe your little buddy at city hall called to let you know I might be coming over here to look at them. So, tell me; did you take it upon yourself to make sure I didn't find what I was looking for? What are you trying to hide?" Morgan's body vibrated with her anger and she didn't care if the little bastard called the police or not.

The librarian was still snarling at her as she stormed down the stairs and out the door.

"Now what?" A woman walking by turned and glared at her. Morgan arched an eyebrow and stared until the woman turned away. Still shaking with fury, she went in search of a place to buy bullets. 'If this hick town even sells them.'

Buying the ammunition proved less painful than she thought. The store clerk only looked at her once before taking her money. After getting the rest of her supplies, she headed out of town, anxious to get back home. As she was driving down the street, she noticed that whenever she passed someone they would turn their head the other way, as if afraid to look at her.

'What in the hell is wrong with these people.'

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# CHAPTER NINE

When she got back home she took the bags from the car and stood in the front yard, looking up at her house for a few minutes before she started walking across the gravel driveway. Half-way to the porch, she looked around the yard, in search of Tiny.

'Where are you?'.

The panther came trotting around the side of the house as if he had heard her thoughts. Looking down at him, she pursed her lips and looked back up at the house. "What is it about this place that has everyone so afraid to talk about it?"

Tiny made a noise and pressed against her leg.

"Well, I may not know now, but you can bet your ass I will find out."

When she unlocked the front door, she heard soft male laughter coming from inside. Throwing open the door, she stepped back so Tiny could enter before yelling out. "Who in the hell is in my house?"

"Did you really think you would find out anything?"

Choking off a scream, she turned in the direction of the voice and there, sitting on her sofa, was a man.

Swallowing down her fright, she feigned bravery that she didn't feel. "Who are you and how did you get into my damn house?"

More soft laughter echoed around her as she stood at the door waiting for a response.

Rising from the sofa, the man held his arms out and looked up. "My dear, I live here."

'Okay, this guy is clearly off his rocker.'

The dream she had on the plane flashed through her mind and she took a step closer to the open door, pushing it open wider, in case she had to make a quick getaway. "Sir, I think you are confused or lost. This is my home, I live here not you." 'Maybe if I talk calmly he won't attack me.' Morgan never took her eyes from him as she kept edging back out the door.

"You have nothing to fear from me, Morgan."

His words froze her in place. "How do you know my name?" She knew she had never met this man in her life.

Taking a step toward her, he opened his mouth to reply.

"Stop!" Holding out a shaking hand, she pointed at him and met his eyes. "If you want to talk to me, you can damn well do it from there, I can hear you just fine."

"I know everything about you." A smile touched the corners of his mouth and he stepped back with a slight bow.

Like a neon sign, the word 'STALKER!!!' started flashing through her mind and she felt her heart leap in her chest, beating like a jackhammer in over-drive.

The man's smile turned into deep hearty laughter. "No dear, I am not a stalker. You could say I'm your guardian angel. I'm not, but you could say that."

"So, you're a ghost, like May and that horrible woman?"

Morgan could feel herself starting to relax just a little bit, though why this should be better than being a stalker, she didn't know.

Anger flashed across the man's face so fast she wasn't sure if she actually saw it. "Like May, yes. Like Marie, never."

"What's your name? And who is Marie?" Morgan walked back into the room and started to close the door but stopped in case this man was lying about who he was, 'or rather what he was.' Letting go of the door, she looked around for Tiny.

"My name is Geoffrey." Once again, he bowed like an elegant gentleman at a ball. "Marie, is the woman whom you had the displeasure of meeting last night."

At the mention of last night, Morgan felt her anger start to rise again. "How do you know that horrible woman?"

"I was married to her until the day she took my life." Geoffrey couldn't keep the pain from entering his face as he thought about what else had happened after he was killed.

This new information shocked Morgan so much that she forgot her fear of Geoffrey and walked over to sit on the sofa. "You have got to be kidding me. How could a woman be so cruel that she would kill her own husband and cause her child so much pain?" She couldn't believe anyone could be so heartless and uncaring as this Marie seemed to be.

Looking up at Geoffrey from her spot on the sofa, she cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. "Why are you here? Are you trapped here?"

It took him so long to answer that when he did it startled her. "I'm here to help you put May's soul to rest."

He looked as if he were about to join her on the sofa but, instead, took the chair in front of her.

"Let me get this straight. You're here to help May?" At his nod, she continued. "If you want to help her so much, why in the hell didn't you do it when you were living?"

Geoffrey looked down at his hands. "Because she didn't start in on May until after she was finished with me."

Her hand flew to her mouth but she couldn't stop the gasp that escaped. A second later she remembered what he had said when she entered the house. "What did you mean about the people in town not helping me?"

"They are scared and not quick to help anyone who lives in this house." Standing once again, he walked over to the window and folded his hands behind his back.

"What's to be scared of? It's only a house for pete's sake." She watched as he turned from the window and started pacing back and forth.

"You must understand, Morgan, the towns' people feel guilty for not helping May when she needed them most. As for being scared, anyone who has ever tried to help her, then and later, has ended up dead."

"Oh well, isn't that just fantastic!" Morgan threw her hands up in disgust. "May comes to me needing help and I can't help her because, if I do, then I'll end up dead. What the hell Geoffrey?"

"You will not die. In fact, you are the only one who can help May. That's why I brought you here." He could feel the rage boiling up in her.

"You did not bring me here!" Jumping to her feet, she stomped her foot and crossed her arms. "I came here on my own."

The image of her standing there with smoke coming out of her ears flashed through his mind and he had to keep himself from laughing.

"And how, my dear Morgan, did you find out about this particular house?" He didn't try to stop the smile that spread across his face as he watched her eyes widen.

"That is none of your damn business." She gritted her teeth and looked away from his knowing smile.

His laughter filled the room and caused the hairs on her arms to stand up. "I already know the answer. First you saw it in a dream, a dream of my making I might add. Second, you saw it again on your vacation last year and lastly, you mysteriously received a brochure saying the house was up for sale."

"Yeah, well... I didn't have to buy it. Morgan's lips twisted into a smirk and she looked back at him. "Besides, I didn't even have the money to buy it when I got the brochure."

"Funny how that worked out, isn't it?" His teasing smile made her cheeks flush red. "Once you had the means to buy the place you just had to have it, am I right?"

Morgan chose to ignore his question. 'He doesn't know me. Who the hell does he think he is anyway?'

"As I've said before, I know everything about you."

Morgan's back stiffened with indignation. "What are you, some kind of damn mind reader or something? I'm getting just about fucking tired of this guessing game bullshit!" Turning her back to him, she started from the room.

"Temper, temper, Morgan. And such bad language too, just like your mother." Geoffrey knew he had made a mistake when Morgan whirled around to face him.

Her words came out as a hoarse whisper. "You knew my mother?" Being an adopted child, Morgan had always been curious about her birth mother.

"Yes, Morgan, I knew her.," His face was sad as he started to fade away.

"Wait!" She was starting to panic and she wanted him to stay. "Who was she? What was she like?"

Her question went unanswered and she suddenly felt very tired. Her mind raced with questions as she climbed the stairs and made her way to her bedroom. Before she reached her room, she realized she was crying; for the mother she thought she would never know and for May, a little girl she might not be able to save.

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# CHAPTER TEN

Morgan came awake to the sound of May crying. Without opening her eyes, she tried to determine where the sound was coming from and sighed when she realized it was coming from the other side of the bed. Rolling over, she slowly opened her eyes and saw May lying on the pillow beside her.

"Why are you crying baby?" Sitting up, she reached out for the little girl but stopped before making contact. She could feel a coldness beneath her palm and she wanted nothing more in that moment than to gather the little girl up and hold her close until she became warm again.

Sniffing back her tears and wiping her eyes, May stared up at Morgan. "Because, you're giving up on me."

"Why would you think I was giving up on you?" Morgan thought back and couldn't remember ever saying that she was giving up.

May didn't answer right away and Morgan could tell that she was afraid that if she did Morgan would yell at her or worse, tell her that she really had giving up. "It's okay, you can tell me."

With trembling lips, May's voice came out as a whisper. "As you were falling asleep, you were thinking about selling the house and moving away."

Morgan was stunned into silence for a moment. 'How is it this little girl knew what I was thinking before I fell asleep when I can't even remember myself?'

"Well it's not really all that hard." May's mouth turned up in a small smile. "Did you know that when you think to yourself you do it really loud?"

Morgan laughed in amazement. "I don't know why it didn't occur to me that if Geoffrey could read my mind then you could too. And yes, I do have a bad habit of yelling at myself when I'm thinking."

Looking at the smile on May's face she could tell, even in the moonlight, that she was a very beautiful little girl. "I'm sorry you had to hear my thoughts tonight, May. I was really upset and when I get that way I have crazy thoughts. So please, don't think for a minute that I would give up on you, okay? I made you a promise and that is a promise I plan on keeping."

Looking deep into Morgan's eyes, May felt that this was someone she could count on not to hurt her or lie to her. Reaching out, as if to touch Morgan's face, May gave her another small smile, nodded and faded away before her hand made contact.

Sighing, she stared down at the empty pillow for a second before placing her palm against the cool material covering it. 'Why don't they ever say bye before they disappear?'

Laying back down, she closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep. After tossing and turning for more than an hour, she sat up and looked around the darkened room. "Well, since it appears that I'm up for the night, I may as well go downstairs and see what I can find out about this place."

Pulling on her robe, she glanced around the room. Tiny wasn't in his usual place at the foot of the bed nor was he anywhere else in the room.

'I could have sworn he was in here when I went to sleep.'

Walking down the stairs, she was still trying to figure out how he had gotten out of her room when she heard a loud thump from the library. She didn't realize she was biting her lip until she tasted blood.

She edged closer to the door and tried to banish the thought that kept going in circles in her mind. 'Tiny doesn't want me in there.'

When she reached out for the door handle she saw that her hand was shaking and berated herself. "Stop being a puss."

Taking a deep breath, she slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open. A cold gust of air blasted her in the face and she threw an arm up in front of her eyes and staggered back.

Taking a hesitant step toward the open door again, she started gagging. The smell was awful, a combination of garbage that had been in the sun too long and rotten meat.

She was reaching for the handle to close the door when the smell changed from rot to lavender. She knew at once that something, other than Tiny, didn't want her in that room.

"Hello... Geoffrey? Are you in there?" Her ears rang from the silence and she took a cautious step into the library.

The room was huge; bookshelves filled with books lined all four walls, floor to ceiling. The only surface that wasn't covered in bookshelves was where the windows and door were located.

"Well, if I were a bookworm I'd never be bored. Her voice was loud in the spacious room and her eyes scanned the titles on the shelf close to her.

Walking around the room she realized that her first impression was wrong because there was a big fireplace built into the wall and the mantle was marble, painted to look like books.

Assuming Geoffrey was in the room she spoke out loud. "Now that has got to be the craziest shit I have ever seen. Kind of cool in a weird way, though."

Shaking off her fascination with the fireplace, she turned back toward the room. "Okay, where would I put all my secrets if I were an evil bitch?"

When she'd first walked into the room, she had noticed the empty tables and what looked like an old roll top desk sitting near one of the windows. Now, there was a thick book lying in the middle of the desk.

"Where the hell did that come from?" She looked around the room again before walking over to pick it up.

"I told you I could help you out a little bit."

"Son of a bitch!" She almost dropped the book when she jumped from fright. She spun toward the voice, her eyes searching the room. "Don't ever do that to me again. You scared the shit out of me Geoffrey!"

Her eyes kept searching the room but she still didn't see him. "Look, I know you're there, so just show yourself and stop freaking me out. Why are you playing games, Geoffrey?"

"Are you sure it's safe to show myself?" There was a trace of humor in his voice when he spoke.

"Oh, yeah, like I could really do you bodily harm. But God knows I wish I could right now."

"Alright." His amused chuckle seemed to echo around the room. "I'll show myself, as you say, but only if you promise not to throw that statue you're holding at me."

Morgan looked down confused, she didn't remember picking up any statue but, there it was, gripped tightly in her right hand. "What the hell?" She quickly put the statue on the desk, and scrubbed her hand on her robe.

"So now it starts." His voice was low and he started to take form.

"What starts? What are you talking about?" Her body began shaking as a chill passed over her.

He looked at her for a minute before speaking. "Marie has started playing with you, as she did the others, only this time she has started sooner."

"Playing with them, with me? What do you mean by that?" She couldn't seem to quit shaking and her teeth began to click together.

Geoffrey didn't want to answer her questions but, seeing May standing behind her changed his mind. For May's sake, she had to know about the mind games and tricks Marie would use to drive her away from the truth or even to her death, whichever came first.

"Please, sit and I will tell you what you need to know."

Pulling the chair from beneath the desk, she slowly lowered herself down and held the book against her chest. Once she was sitting, the shakes seemed to settle into a slight tremor and the room felt like it was warming up again.

"You need to pay close attention to what I'm about to tell you Morgan, it could mean your life if you don't."

Morgan prided herself on being a strong woman, but she couldn't stop the sense of dread that settled in her stomach at his words. "Just spit it out already, it can't be as bad as you are trying to make it seem!"

Geoffrey knew he was about to lose his temper with this woman, he could feel the anger boiling up in his soul, literally. He could tell by the look in her eyes that he had frightened her but, that was no excuse for her to be so rude.

Gaining control of his emotions, he turned his back on her and started to pace the room as he spoke. "As I've told you before, there are secrets in this house that you must find if you are to save May. I'll help you as much as I can but, Marie will fight me to hell and back to keep what she considers hers."

"May's soul?" Morgan shivered and she could feel the ball of dread in her stomach getting bigger.

"Yes." Turning back to face her, he met her gaze. "The more I help you, the quicker you have to be in finding the answers. The more answers you find, the greater the risk becomes, because Marie will fight you every step of the way, even if it means killing you. She has had control of May for this long and she will not give up easily."

Geoffrey's voice was a low rumble as he spoke, letting her know how serious all of this really was.

"But why May? Why does she want to hurt her?" She was standing now. Rubbing her sweaty palms on her pajama bottoms, she started walking towards the door. "So, this book holds the answers to saving May's soul?" Looking back over her shoulder at him, she saw him slowly shake his head.

"No, not all of them." It seemed as if he were gliding toward her. "Just some facts you need to know before you go any further." He didn't want her walking into this blindly but, he couldn't bring himself to tell her out right just what she was getting herself into by trying to help May.

She saw what looked like hurt pass through his eyes. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

She saw his eyes change again as he faded into nothing without answering.

"I'm not surprised." She sighed and look down at the book once more. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the picture on the cover; an inverted cross with a snake wrapped around it. She wanted to fling the book across the room but her curiosity stopped her.

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# CHAPTER ELEVEN

Making the sign of the cross and saying a prayer, she walked over to one of the tables and pulled out a chair, laying the book down on the table in front of her. She opened the book to the first page and felt her stomach roll. She felt like she was going to throw up as she read the title of the book. "Black Magic: Spells To Make You A Powerful Witch."

As she reached out for the book, intending to throw it into the fireplace, the pages started turning.

Jumping up from her chair, she stepped back and watched until the pages stopped in the middle of the book. From where she stood she could only make out part of the words across the top of the page. "How To Take..." Edging closer, her knees buckled and she grasped the edge of the table to keep from falling as she read the full title. "How To Take Possession of Others."

She had barely finished reading when the pages started flipping again, stopping suddenly a few pages later. This time she had no trouble reading the title, for it was only two words. "Taking Souls".

Running for the door, she heard a high thin voice repeating. "Oh shit, oh shit".

Slamming the door closed, she leaned her forehead against it, trying to catch her breath, only then did she realize the voice she heard was her own.

"Okay girl, get a hold of yourself. It's just a book." As she repeated the command to herself, she couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, and books always turn their own pages. Happens every day."

She didn't realize she was crying until she felt a tear fall onto her clenched fist. Turning slowly, she walked down the hall and stopped to look around the living room. It was so beautiful, she couldn't imagine someone as evil as Marie living here.

The walls were a rich, dark mahogany that you didn't find in many houses these days. French doors with diamond shaped glass inlays led into the den. The furniture was so old she didn't know what period it came from but, it was the most beautiful and elegant pieces she had ever owned. It was so well cared for it looked like it was brand new but, by looking at the pictures hanging throughout the house, she could tell that it was the original furniture put in the house around the time it was built.

The rug on the floor, no longer baring the burnt mark, was a deep rich red with an emerald green pattern flowing through the middle and, even after all these years, there wasn't a frayed or bare spot anywhere.

It occurred to her now to question the appearance of the entire house.

Everything looked so new, almost as if it had never been used, but all the furnishings were clearly antique.

Even Jackson had commented on the fact that the china was old, but there wasn't even a tiny chip or line running through it like there was in her mother's china, which she knew was well over one hundred years old.

Walking over to the window, she looked out over the front lawn, rubbing the numbness from her arms as she wondered what she was going to do. She had promised May that she would help her but, it seemed that every day something else happened to make her question that promise. Was it really worth the trouble she was going through, did she even really give a damn what happened to Ma....

"STOP IT!" She screamed out her frustrations, grabbing her head and squeezing.

'Where are these thoughts coming from? Of course, I care what happens to May! If I didn't I would have been gone a long time ago.'

The hairs on the back of her neck stiffened. Whirling around, she found Marie standing two feet away from her, staring at her with glowing red eyes.

"What do you want?" Her lip curled in disgust and she brought her hands down to her sides, curling them into fists. She could feel her heart beating so fast in her chest she thought it would break through her ribs any minute now.

Instead of answering, Marie threw her head back and laughed, sending chills racing down Morgan's spine. Before she could blink, Marie was standing nose to nose with her. Marie growled down at Morgan, breath smelling like a rotten corpse, unearthed from the grave. "What I want is for you to leave my house."

Morgan found herself taking an involuntary step back, gagging from the foul smell emitting from Marie's mouth. Putting a hand across her own mouth to hold back the bile rising in her throat, Morgan took a step forward. "This is no longer your house, demon. And no matter what thoughts you try to put into my head, I will never leave."

She took another step forward to make her point. "I'll stay in this house until I'm old and gray if for no other reason than just to piss you off!"

She saw Marie's hand extend into claws and braced herself for the cutting blow that was coming.

After what seemed like an eternity, she understood that Marie wasn't going to attack her and this made her brave.

"What's the matter? Don't you even have the guts to hit me?" Laughter shook her body as she thought about what she just said. "Of course, you don't have the guts, you're dead."

The blow struck her across her face with enough force to knock her flat on her back.

"Never underestimate the power I weld!" Standing over her, Marie screamed down into Morgan's surprised face. "There is a reason I've kept you alive this long. But keep in mind, I can and will kill you with a single thought if you cross me." With that said, Marie started laughing again as she faded from the room, leaving Morgan alone once more.

Morgan kept blinking her eyes, trying to clear away the dizziness that was threatening to pull her down into unconsciousness. Pushing herself into a sitting position, she put her hand on her cheek where Marie had struck her and sucked in a breath when she felt the unmistakable stickiness of blood beneath her fingertips.

Getting to her knees, she pushed herself to her feet and stood up on legs that felt like they were about to throw her back to the floor.

Stumbling, she made her way to the bathroom and looked in the mirror to see how bad she was hurt.

The image before her made her cry out and turn toward the toilet where, it seemed, she puked everything she had eaten in the last six months. Face throbbing, she returned to the sink and splashed water on her face, wincing at the sting it caused.

Washing the blood away, she took a closer look at the cuts. Four gaping slash marks ran from the corner of her eye to the edge of her chin. She had to get to the hospital fast or she stood the chance of bleeding to death, but she knew she was too weak to drive herself.

Pressing a wet towel to her face, she made her way into the kitchen where she had left Jackson's phone number on the table near the phone. Dialing the number with shaking fingers, she pulled out a chair and sat as she waited for Jackson to pick up on the other end.

As she was about to hang up and dial 911, she heard a half asleep, "Hello" whisper across the line.

"Jackson? It's me, Morgan. Look, I'm sorry to call so late but, I need your help." She could barely keep her eyes open and she thought she was going to pass out before she got a response from him.

"Morgan? Are you there? What's wrong? I can hardly hear you." He heard her heavy breathing and knew she was still on the other end but, before he could say anything else, he heard a thud and then the line went dead.

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# CHAPTER TWELVE

Jackson made the forty-minute drive to Morgan's house in twenty minutes. Running up to the front door he didn't even think to knock, just turned the handle and thanked God when he found it unlocked.

"Morgan!" His voice rang out in the stillness as he ran through the living room calling her name. A low deep growl had him skidding to a stop just outside the kitchen door.

'Damn, I forgot about the beast.' He tried to peer through the darkness to see if she was in there but the cat's body blocked his view.

"Easy boy." He held his hand out in the direction of the growling panther as he took a cautious step forward. "I'm here to help." Hearing Morgan's soft moan of pain from the kitchen, he threw all caution to the wind and ran in, flipping the light on as he went. He found her lying on the floor in a puddle of blood with Tiny curled around her body.

The panther was staring at him and baring his teeth but, he made no move to attack as Jackson knelt next to Morgan and moved Tiny's tail out of the way so he could see her face.

He felt his stomach pitch when he got his first good look at her face. Three of the four cuts on her face were so deep he could see her cheekbone. Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet Tiny's, rage rolled through his body when the cats large green eyes narrowed in warning.

"You no good son of a..." He was beginning to rise when he heard Morgan's soft whisper at about the same time he felt a gentle grip on his wrist. "N... no."

"I'll be right back." Brushing the hair back from her face, he stared down into her pain-filled eyes.

Slowly, she shook her head. "Not... Tiny." She kept repeating the words over and over, hoping he would understand. Forcing her eyes to focus, she saw him looking at Tiny once more with hatred and more than a little fright on his face.

Squeezing his arm with what little strength she had, she applied pressure until his eyes met hers. "It wasn't... him, not Tiny."

She saw understanding dawn in his eyes as darkness settled over her once more. The effort to talk caused the cuts on Morgan's face to gap open and she started bleeding again.

Glancing around the room, Jackson saw the towel she had used laying in the doorway leading to the kitchen. As he was walking over to get it, he heard Morgan sigh. Looking back, what he saw made the rage rush back through his body.

Tiny lay across her chest licking her battered face.

With a roar of animalistic fury, Jackson ran toward him fully intending to kick the animal off of her. But, as he drew near, Tiny got up and moved away just as Morgan sat up.

Jackson skidded to a stop and stared open mouthed from her to Tiny. Her face was unmarked. If he hadn't seen the deep cuts with his own eyes, he never would have known that she had been hurt.

A low humming rumble came from the panther's throat and as Jackson watched, the blood that had been pooled around Morgan when he first arrived began to disappear.

"What the hell is going on here?" He slowly knelt beside her, reaching out to touch her cheek.

"Jackson? What are you doing here?" Confusion clouded her eyes and she looked around the room. "How did I get here?"

Still mystified it took a second for him to realize that she was talking to him. "You called me, don't you remember?" 'Where the hell did the cuts go?' He didn't know if he should be amazed or scared shitless. Wounds didn't just disappear when an animal licked them.

With a cry of pain, she jerked her head back when his hand touched her cheek. "What the hell!? What did you do that for?" Jumping to her feet, she pressed herself against the wall and glared up at him.

Licking his lips, Tiny lowered his head and walked over to stand between them, his gaze never leaving Jackson's face.

Startled, he stood and took a step back. "Do what? I just touched your cheek."

Her purple eyes flashed fury as she looked up at him. "You call pinching me a touch? Are you a freak or what? That shit hurts!"

Jackson's chest swelled with outrage. "I have you know lady, I did nothing of the sort. I barely grazed your cheek with my knuckles. And I may be a freak but, I do not get off on pinching women's cheeks." He took a deep breath through his nose and stared down at her wondering why she didn't remember anything. "You don't remember anything that happened?" When she shook her head, he took her hand in his own and led her into the living room where she could sit on the sofa while he tried to figure out what had occurred before he got there.

"Okay, first let me tell you that the reason I'm here is because you called me." He paced away from her, running his fingers through his hair. "Do you really not remember anything at all?"

She could tell from the way he kept walking back and forth that he was nervous. "No, I told you I didn't." She sighed and leaned back, closing her eyes.

Her eyes jerked back open as an image of Marie took shape, long claws flashing toward her face, poison dripping from the ends.

"What? What's the matter?" Running over, he dropped to his knees in front of her and placed a hand on her knee.

She raised a hand and held it above her cheek, too afraid of what she might find to touch it, as tears filled her eyes and spilled over to run down her face. "What did you see when you got here, Jackson?"

He felt his chest squeeze at the sight of this beautiful woman in tears. "I... I saw you lying in a pool of blood and your cheek was... God, Morgan your cheek was cut to the bone." Lifting his hand, he ran a finger across her cheek where the cuts had been.

A hiss of pain escaped from between her clinched teeth and she flinched away from his touch.

"Is it that bad? Do you think it will scar?" She knew that most claimed she was a beautiful woman but, she had always thought differently.

Jackson stared at her in disbelief, sure that she knew the cuts were already gone. "Honey, there's nothing there anymore."

"What? What do you mean there's nothing there? You just said you saw my face cut to the bone." She wanted to think he was crazy but something held her back from saying so.

He tried to think how to tell her about Tiny. "Well, like I told you, your face was cut very deep and umm... see when I went to get the towel you dropped, Tiny climbed onto your chest and started licking your face." He felt heat rise into his cheeks at the look she gave him.

"He was probably scared for me, that's all." She shrugged and waved her hand as if to dismiss his words before casting a loving glance toward the panther.

He looked at her with disbelief. "How can you say, 'that's all'? Hasn't it occurred to you yet that your cat cured your face with a swipe of his tongue? Ask yourself, how did he do that?"

The look that passed over her face let him know that he had finally gotten to her.

She didn't want to believe that Tiny was even a little bit strange. "If he 'cured' me, like you say, then why does my cheek still hurt like a son-of-a-bitch?"

"I don't know." Throwing his hands up in the air, he pushed to his feet and walked toward the window. "Maybe if you let him lick you again it will take away the pain too."

He meant it to be sarcastic but, apparently, she thought he meant it literally. The words were barely out of his mouth before she was knelling in front of that damn cat.

"What the hell are you doing?" Reaching for her arm, he tried to pull her back up.

She shook his hand off and gave him a cool look. "I'm doing what you suggested, even though you obviously think this whole thing is one big damn joke."

Stroking Tiny's head, she leaned her cheek against his mouth. The first swipe of his tongue stung so bad she jerked her head back with a hiss. After seeing the look in Tiny's eyes, she leaned in once more.

At first, he just nuzzled her neck, purring deep in his chest. When she didn't pull away again, he started licking her face; first on her forehead before working his way down to her cheek.

She was so relaxed, she wasn't even aware that he was no longer licking her until he pulled his head away. Slowly, she stood back up, looking into Jackson's eyes as she gently touched her cheek.

Relief washed through her when she didn't feel the biting pain anymore. Smiling, she took a step toward Jackson but stopped when he took a retreating step back.

Jackson shook his head and stared at her, his face a mask of stunned disbelief. "Who are you?" He shook his head again, taking another step away.

When she took a step toward him, he put his hands out in front of him. "No... you stay right there. I'm not sure what's going on around here and to be perfectly honest I'm just a shade freaked out. So, for now you just stay where you are, okay?"

A slow smile started working its way across her lips. "Are you really that afraid of me that you think if I touch you something might happen?"

She took a small step in his direction and had to suppress a giggle when he took a step back.

He could feel the blood rush up his neck to his face, embarrassment staining his cheeks a bright red. "No, of course not. It's just that... I don't understand how you can be so calm about all of this." He couldn't look at her smiling face any more so, he started pacing around the room looking at the pictures on the walls. "You act like this kind of weird shit happens to you every day. How can you just stand there so calm when your face was almost ripped from your body? Speaking of which, you still haven't told me how that happened."

Now it was her turn to be embarrassed. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

The sound of his laughter made her face burn hotter. "What's so damn funny?" Her eyes narrowed in fury and she curled her hands into fists at her side.

He was laughing so hard that it took him a few seconds to catch his breath enough to answer her. "I'm not laughing at you." Holding his aching stomach with one hand, he waved his other through the air. "I'm laughing at the situation. After what I've seen today, I'm not sure what I believe right now. You could tell me you were a witch and I would probably believe you."

She stared at the tears running down his face and tried to think of a way to tell him about the book she'd found in the library. No matter how many scenarios she ran through her head she could only picture more laughter from him at each ending so, she decided that it was better to just show him.

"Come with me, there's something I want to show you before I attempt to explain anything to you."

Walking toward the library, she looked over her shoulder to make sure he was following her.

No longer laughing, he walked behind her down the hall. When he noticed that Tiny was not following, he stopped and turned to glance back into the living room. He didn't see the big cat anywhere and with a shrug, he continued walking to where Morgan was stopped, standing in front of a closed door.

"You wanted to show me a door?" He smiled when she made no move to open the door. "Is this your bedroom?"

"No." Rubbing the goose bumps that suddenly popped up on her arms, she looked at him standing beside her. "I want to show you something in this room, but I sure as hell am not going back in there."

Puzzled, he stared at her for a second then reached out and slowly turned the doorknob.

Morgan backed down the hall a few feet as he opened the door wider. "It's on the table in there."

"It? What exactly is 'it'?" Turning back to look at her, he arched an eyebrow as he waited for her to answer.

"'It' is a book and, believe me when I say, you'll know it's the one I'm talking about when you see it."

Jackson rolled his eyes and, with a heavy sigh, walked into the library. Looking around the room, he had to admire the architecture. The layout of the room was like nothing he had ever seen before but, it had a calming feel about it that made him instantly relax.

His eyes landed on a table across the room and he walked over to it. On the table was a book and as far as he could see there was nothing there that could explain Morgan's fright.

Picking it up, he looked at the front before turning it over to see the back. Opening it, he flipped through the pages, his eyes drawing down in confusion. "What the hell am I supposed to be looking for?"

Feeling the air stir behind him, he turned to see Morgan standing there with a weird smile on her face. "Okay, so what's with the book? Why did you want me to see it?" Jackson watched as she threw her head back and laughed.

"It was just a joke. Now hand me the book and I'll meet you in the hall in a minute." She put her hand out, as if to take the book from him.

"Wait just a damn second there." Holding the book out of her reach, he stared at her, puzzled. "A few minutes ago, you were so scared of this book that you wouldn't even come in here and now you want me to give it to you? Just what the hell kind of game are you playing?"

Her eyes narrowed into slits so small it looked as if she had closed them. "I said it was a joke. Now give me that book!" When she took a step toward him, he took a step back and bumped against the table.

He was opening his mouth to tell her to stop when he heard his name being called from the hall. It sounded like Morgan but he had been looking at her the whole time and her mouth never moved. He looked at the door when he heard his name again and turned back to face her just in time to see her face change into that of a woman he had never seen before and hoped to never see again.

"Who the hell are you?" Holding the book tightly against his chest he began edging along the table, trying to get pass her, so that he could make it to the door.

"Don't you worry about who I am, just give me the fucking book." She took another step toward him and suddenly came to a halt before spinning to face the door when she heard it open further.

That was the only opening he needed. Clutching the book under his arm like a football, he took off across the room aiming for the door. The scream he heard behind him made the hairs on his neck stand up and he could feel his balls trying to crawl into his stomach.

As soon as he was out the room, he spun around, grabbed the door handle, and slammed the door shut just as the woman reached it. He stood there with his eyes closed trying to get his breathing under control. Slowly, he opened his eyes and he looked down at Morgan, who was staring up at him with frightened eyes. Without saying a word, he walked away from her in the direction of the front door.

"Jackson?" Morgan stood where she was, wondering if she should go after him or not. When she saw him flop down on the chair next to the door, she walked slowly over to stand in front of him.

"Are you okay?" She berated herself for asking such a stupid question as she sat down in the chair across from him.

He rubbed his eyes before looking at her. "Who was that and why did she want this book so badly?" He held the book up for her to see. "It's just a book, nothing special about it that I can see just a bunch of blank pages." When Morgan touched the book, he glanced down at her hand and saw the cover the way it really was. "What the hell?"

"That's what I wanted to show you. And, to answer your question, that was the woman who cut my face." She felt her face growing warm at the look he was giving her.

"Why is she still here then?" He cast a nervous glance toward the library knowing that at any second that creepy bitch was coming out of there to get the book.

She didn't know how to answer his question without him thinking she was crazy. There was no way she could tell him and make it sound rational. In the end, she decided to tell him the truth and prayed that he didn't put her away on some funny farm.

"What I'm about to tell you is going to sound sort of out there but, it's all true."

Standing, she started to pace back and forth in front of him. "When I first got here everything was as perfect as it could be. I finally had money, a place that I loved, and I didn't have to worry about where my next meal was coming from. And then it got... weird."

She stopped pacing long enough to see how he was taking this so far.

"How do you mean weird?" Jackson stared up at her through narrowed eyes.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she stared at him for a second before answering. "Well, it would seem that I have ghosts."

Jackson stifled the urge to laugh. "You have a ghost?"

"Actually, there appear to be three of them." Morgan dropped her head to try to hide her flaming cheeks.

He couldn't sit still any longer. "Let me see if I can get this straight, you think you have three ghosts in your house. One of which you say cut your face, am I right so far."

'Great, now he thinks I'm a damn flake.' Looking up at him, she silently pleaded with him to believe her.  "I don't think there are ghosts here, I know they're here." She saw his lips twitch and the urge to slap him was almost too strong to resist.

Jackson saw her eyes flash with anger and the smile died before it could reach his lips. "Look, I'm not saying you're making this up but, I'm a lawyer and I tend to look at things from a different prospective."

"Then explain to me what happened to you in the library, Mr. Different Prospective!"

'What? Did he think I made him see that crazy bitch?'

Jackson heaved a sigh so hard she expected him to pass out from lack of oxygen to the brain. "I can't explain it. But there is no way you're going to make me believe it was a ghost." His lip curled up in disgust. 'Ghosts.'

Morgan started smiling as a plan took shape in her mind.

"What? Why are you smiling like that?" He didn't like that smile one damn bit. It made him nervous for some reason.

"Oh, no reason." Her smile got bigger and she cocked her head to the side. "I was just thinking that, since you're so sure there are no ghosts here, you wouldn't mind staying the night."

His head jerked back in shock. "Stay the night? Here?" 'Was the woman crazy? Really crazy?'

"Unless you're too scared." She knew she was egging him on but it was so much fun.

"I'm not scared of anything." His chest puffed out in indignation.

"You look like a rooster, you know." She couldn't help it, he really did look like a pissed off rooster. The giggles took hold of her before she could stop them.

"Now you're gapping like a fish." Her giggles turned to full blown laughter and she covered her mouth with her hands.

Jackson slammed his mouth shut. "First, I look like a rooster, then a fish? Lady you truly are twisted, you know that, right?"

Now it was her turn to look like a fish. "Twisted? So, I'm crazy? Is that what you're saying?"

Jackson dropped back down in the chair. "No, I'm not saying you're crazy. Strange, but not crazy." He rubbed his temple where he could feel the beginnings of a headache starting to form.

"Okay, I'll stay the night just to prove to you that there aren't any ghosts in this house. I don't know what is here but I'm pretty sure it isn't ghosts"

Morgan nodded her head. "Good, great. So, I guess, if you'll follow me I'll show you which room you'll be staying in." Taking the book, she turned and began walking toward the stairs.

He had no choice but to follow, though he wasn't about to complain. The tight pajama bottoms she was wearing gave him a tantalizing view of her firm little butt. The sway of her hips made his hands itch to grab hold and squeeze. He tried to shake the thoughts from his head before they got him thrown out on his ass.

Morgan laid a hand on her belly, trying to quell the butterflies that seemed to have taken up residence there and they started flying the closer she got to the room that was to be his during the night.

Just thinking of him stripping down to his jockeys for the night made her knees melt like warm butter. The man was fine, no doubt about it. He had incredibly long legs and she had noticed earlier that he had big strong hands and big feet.

'You know what they say about that combination, don't you?' The thought was so loud Morgan spun around to see if another ghost had appeared behind her.

"What's wrong?" Jackson asked, looking back over his shoulder to see what she was looking at.

Heat flooded her cheeks giving them a rosy appearance. "Nothing. I was... just looking for Tiny." 'Stupid girl. What's wrong with you? It's not like you've never seen a naked man before'. Morgan rolled her eyes at her own thoughts. 'Sure, I've seen a naked man before, if you count the ones on television.'

"Well, this is it." Shifting the book, she held it against her side with her elbow and rubbed her hands together to stop them from trembling and she stepped back so he could get into the room.

Jackson entered the room and whistled through his teeth. The room was tailor-made just for a man. The bed was a huge oak four-poster with heavy dark blue curtains that could be closed on all sides to block out light or give one privacy. The carpet was of the same blue color but with streaks of silver shot through. He had never seen carpet of this color before but, at that moment, he wanted some just like it to go into his own room at home. The rest of the room was decorated in the same heavy oak as the bed and he envied Morgan every piece.

'What I wouldn't do for a room like this at home', he thought, even as he turned toward Morgan with a look of disinterest. "Well, it will do for the night I guess."

Morgan wasn't fooled for a second. She had seen the look of wonder on his face when he was looking around. 'Like a kid on Christmas morning.' She smiled and shrugged. "Well, if you don't like it..." She bit her lip when he cut her off.

"No, really, this is fine. I'm sure it will be okay." 'Did I say that too fast?' Turning to see the expression on her face, he sighed inwardly when it appeared as if she hadn't noticed the urgency in his voice.

However, she had noticed and it was taking everything in her not to burst out laughing. "Well, I know it's late but, would you care for something to eat or drink?" 'Right now, I'd suggest dancing the hokey pokey if it'll get us out of this room.' Morgan was feeling strange but good tingles in places she had never felt them before and wanted to get the hell out that room.

He wanted to decline but, when he opened his mouth to do so, his stomach picked that moment to let out an enormous rumble. He felt his face burn with embarrassment and he shrugged. "I guess I could go for a little something to eat."

"A little something? Sounds like you could use a lot of something." She couldn't control the laughter when she saw the blush on his cheeks grow deeper. "Come on, let's see what we can throw together." She spoke over her shoulder as she walked out of the room.

Jackson looked at the photos on the wall as he followed her down the stairs. "Hey, have you ever noticed how this one woman looks almost exactly like you?"

He was stopped at a picture of a woman and two young girls. Glancing at Morgan, he saw that her back was stiff and she was standing stock still gripping the banister.

Turning slowly, she made her way back to where he was standing. Looking at the picture, she wondered why she hadn't noticed it before. 'I've been by this spot a thousand times a day, why have I never looked at these?' Studying the pictures closer, Morgan saw which woman he was talking about. It wasn't either of the young girls, but the woman in the middle with her hands on the shoulder of each girl.

"You're right, she does look a little like me. Although I don't believe I've ever scowled at the camera quite like that."

"Looks kind of evil, doesn't she?" Jackson began rubbing at the goose bumps that popped up on his arms.

She threw him a sideways glance. "Cold?"

He smiled. "No, not cold. Creeped out a little though."

"Ah, afraid I'm going to turn out like her?" She chuckled at her half joke.

He could tell that the picture had upset her and he couldn't really blame her for trying to turn it into a joke. He would probably do the same thing if their roles were reversed.

"Morgan, did these pictures come with the house?" When she nodded, he looked at the one in front of him again. "Do you know if anybody in your family has ever lived in this house?"

A nervous giggle escaped from her throat. "I believe when we first met I told you I was adopted. I have no idea if any of my birth family ever lived here."

"Okay, well, have you ever tried looking for your biological family?" He hated having to ask these questions but, there had to be a reason she looked so much like the woman in the picture.

Morgan cast one last glance at the picture before turning back toward the stairs. "I never had any reason to look for them. Oh, don't get me wrong now, I've often wondered about my birth mother and why she gave me away."

He could hear the pain in her voice and wasn't sure if he could ask the next question. "Did your adoptive parents ever mention anything about her to you?"

She smiled, thinking about her adoptive mother with her long golden hair and emerald green eyes. When she was younger, Morgan always wanted to look just like her mom. She even went so far as to dye her hair blonde once, what a disaster that turned out to be. Shaking her head to clear the memories, she turned to face Jackson. "My mom was my best friend. She was always there for me when I needed her and, as with most mothers, she was even there when I didn't think I needed her at all. I never had the need to ask about my birth mother and, whenever my mom brought her up, I would always find a reason to change the subject."

"So, you never found out her name?" He couldn't imagine not knowing who his mother was. He hated thinking about the day when he lost her to a stroke but, to never have known her was something he didn't want to think about.

"No." Morgan didn't want to talk about this anymore. "So how about something to eat. I'm hungry and I know you are too, if those noises coming from your belly can be believed."

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# CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Chuckling, he followed her to the kitchen and started setting the table as she put a pot of homemade soup on the stove to heat. He knew she was using food as a distraction so she wouldn't have to talk about her birth mother but, he told himself, the subject was not closed. There had to be a family connection to this house and he was damn well going to find out what it was.

"Smelled the food, did you?" Morgan's voice held a hint of laughter.

Jackson looked up from cutting the tomatoes for the salad to see if she was talking to him. His brow knitted in confusion when he saw that she was still standing at the stove, stirring the soup, not even looking in his direction.

As she continued to talk, he looked over his shoulder toward the door to see how many steps it would take him to get to it if she completely fell off her rocker. His eyes connected with the green eyes of the panther and his breath caught in his throat. 'How in the hell had she known that cat was there?'

Tiny opened his mouth, ran his tongue over his teeth, and started walking slowly toward Jackson.

Jackson didn't know if he should back away or stand still. "Huh, Morgan... little help here."

He hated hearing the shakiness in his voice but was unable to control it. It felt like he stood there for an eternity waiting for Morgan to call off her pet. As he opened his mouth to speak again, he heard a slight sound from behind him.

"Are you laughing at me?" He couldn't believe his eyes when he looked back at her. There she stood, doubled over, gripping her stomach, laughing so hard tears were streaming down her face.

"I'm s... s... sorry... but... you... should see... th... the look on your face." Morgan wiped her eyes and tried to catch her breath.

"Well, I'm so glad I could entertain you." His word dripped sarcasm. "Now, could you please call your damn cat off before he mistakes me for supper?"

Taking a deep breath to get herself under control, she looked at Tiny and shook her head.

Jackson would have sworn that Tiny nodded his head and smiled before moving under the table where he laid down, put his big head on his paws and, with one last show of his teeth, yawned and closed his eyes.

"Relax, Jackson, he won't hurt you." She turned back to the stove before he could catch the smile she was trying, without success, to hide. It still amazed her that he could be so powerfully built, yet he was afraid of Tiny.

She remembered the way his muscles bulged under his flannel shirt when he helped her up off the floor earlier. Shaking her head to dislodge the thought, Morgan stretched up onto her tiptoes to get some bowls out of the cabinet.

Jackson felt a stirring low in his stomach as he watched her reach for the bowls. Her shirt was riding up to reveal a strip of smooth tan skin between her pajama bottoms and her top. He couldn't help but wonder if her skin would feel as silky as it looked.

"Jackson?"

Shaking off thoughts of running his tongue along that strip of exposed skin, he dragged his eyes up her body to her face. "Sorry, did you say something?"

"I asked if you would like crackers or French bread. Where were you just then? You looked like you were a million miles away?" She almost smiled as she watched the color stain his cheeks.

"I was... uh... thinking about some papers I left at the office." 'Damn, how am I going to sleep in the same house with this woman?'

"Must be some really important papers." Her eyes held his as she sat the bowl of soup on the table. "Anyway, crackers or bread?"

"Crackers will do." Jackson sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

After putting everything on the table, she went to the fridge, took out three raw T-bone steaks, and placed them on a platter.

"I thought we were just having soup?" He watched the sway of her hips as she walked across the kitchen.

She sat the platter on the edge of the table and nodded at him. "We are."

Before he could ask anything else, Tiny came out from under the table, took the platter in his mouth and walked out of the kitchen. "Amazing"

"Yeah, what would be really amazing is if he would bring the damn thing back in here after he's done." Sitting down she took a handful of crackers and crumbled them into her soup.

"Then why don't you just put it on the floor for him?" Jackson was also wondering if the cat had ever eating out of the bowl he was using.

Morgan was looking at him as if he had flunked out of nursery school. "If I did that he wouldn't eat at all. It has to be on that platter and sat on the edge of the table before he will even think about touching it."

"Okay, for the slow person in the room, tell me, how do you know he isn't hiding those raw steaks somewhere?"

She knew she deserved that snappy come back but, it still pissed her off. "I just know, okay. He eats all of his food and then puts his platter on the nearest table, which was the coffee table before I moved in here."

'She really is cute when she's pissed.' His thoughts had him placing a hand over his mouth to hide his smile. "And where does he put it now?"

"On the table near that damn library." A shiver ran down her spine when she thought about going back in there.

"Are you cold?" He could help but notice the way she was shivering.

She took another bite of her soup before answering. "No. It's just... never mind it's stupid" 'And you'll want to lock me up in a straitjacket if I told you'.

Looking into her eyes, he decided to drop the subject, for now.

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# CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"Supper was good." Jackson rubbed his full stomach as they made their way through the house, turning out the lights, before going upstairs.

"Thanks, it's an old secret recipe passed down through the family." Morgan loved to cook and it made her feel good whenever someone complimented her on it.

They had reached the room that he was using for the night and they stood there, facing each other for an awkward moment, neither knowing what to say.

"Well... goodnight." Morgan backed down the hall, watching him and biting her lower lip.

"Goodnight Morgan." He closed the door and leaned back against it with a sigh. 'That woman is making me feel like a horny teenager again.' He looked around the room trying to focus on something besides the throb between his legs.

A scratching noise across the room drew his attention. Following the sound, he found himself standing in front of the closet. Reaching out to open the door, his hand froze on the knob when he heard a whimpering sound followed by more scratching against the door. Pressing his ear against the door, he wondered what was making those strange noises. Ear still pressed against the door, he began turning the knob. The door vibrated beneath his ear and a sudden pounding on the other side had him quickly backing across the room, heart pounding in his chest.

Rubbing his arms, he made his way toward the bedroom door as the pounding and scratching continued in the closet. He could see his breath fog in front of his face on each exhale and he wondered why the room was suddenly so cold.

He was halfway to the door when Morgan burst into the room, her eyes wide as she looked toward the closet. "What's going on in here?"

The door appeared to be breathing and Jackson couldn't drag his eyes away from the strange visual. "There's something in there."

Morgan threw him a "No Shit" look over her shoulder as she made her way toward the closet.

"Morgan, stop. Don't open that door."

"I have to see what's in there Jackson." Her face was pale when she looked back at him.

"That wasn't me." Taking a step toward her, his eyes traveled around the room, searching for the man who had answered Morgan.

Taking a deep calming breath, Morgan studied the room. "Geoffrey? Is that you?"

When she turned back toward the closet, she saw Geoffrey appear in front of her. "Don't open that door, Morgan. You don't know what's in there."

"Yeah, and I still won't unless I look." She took a step toward him and noticed a hint of anger cross his face as he faded away, but she didn't take the time to think about it as she threw the closet door open. Morgan didn't know what she expected to find but it sure wasn't Tiny springing out with his teeth bared.

With a scream, Jackson threw himself against her to knock her out of the way of the leaping panther. Rolling up to his knees, he watched the cat land a few feet away and felt a shiver of dread run down his spine when he heard Tiny roar with rage, his eyes narrowed, fangs bared as he looked around the room.

Morgan scrambled to her feet and ran to Tiny, throwing her arms around his neck, making that odd rumble in her chest.

Jackson stared in wonder as the big cat turned his face into her shoulder and started to shake.

"What's wrong with him? How did he get in there? And just who the hell was that man?" Jackson got shakily to his feet, heart feeling like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest and turned to look into the dark interior of the closet.

Slowly turning her head, Morgan blinked back tears before answering him. "I don't know how Tiny got in the closet but, that man wasn't who I thought he was.'

She turned her face toward Tiny again and rubbed his trembling back. "You okay, big boy?"

In answer, he rubbed his head against her shoulder.

Jackson felt his mouth go dry when he finally noticed that she wasn't wearing anything but her bra and a matching thong. Turning back toward the closet again, he squinted his eyes, trying to peer into the darkness beyond. "Morgan, I don't think this is an ordinary closet."

Standing, she walked across the room toward him. "What do you mean?"

Throwing a quick glance her way, he stepped into the closet and flipped on the light. Where the back wall should've been, there was a flight of stairs leading down into darkness.

Morgan stepped in beside him. "I didn't know this was here. You think we should go down and check it out?"

The last thing he wanted was to go down those stairs but, he was just a curious as she was. "We can but... ummm... maybe you should put something on first."

Looking down, Morgan felt heat rise to her cheeks. She had been about to get into the shower when she heard the banging begin.

Snatching a shirt off a hanger, she avoided his eyes as she slipped it on. "Okay, let's get this over with."

Jackson glanced down at her bare feet. "Do you want to put on some shoes or go down like that? There's no telling what we'll find down there and you might step on a rusty nail or something."

She knew he was only trying to be helpful but he was really beginning to get on her nerves. Looking around the closet, she spotted an old pair of cowboy boots lying in the corner.

Tugging them on, Morgan looked up at him and shook her head. Don't you dare laugh at me. I already know that I look like a complete idiot."

Jackson fought back a smile as he watched her straighten up and throw her shoulders back after putting the boots on. "Ready cowgirl?"

"Bite me." Rolling her eyes, she shoved him toward the opening in the wall. "You first."

Jackson felt along the wall for a light switch and was surprised when, after flipping the switch, he saw light flooding a stairway that led downward in a spiral.

They slowly made their way down the stairs, holding on to the handrail to keep from falling. The air was hot and heavy with a sweet-sour smell to it. When their feet touched the floor, Morgan had to force herself to let go of the handrail and walk deeper into the room.

"Damn good thing you have a cat." Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he tried not to breathe in through his nose. "Smells like you have a bad ass rat problem."

When he didn't get a reply, he looked over his shoulder at her and he felt his heart kick into overdrive when he didn't see her standing behind him. "Morgan?"

"I don't think it's rats." The reply came from the other side of the room.

Following the sound of her coughing, Jackson walked around a corner and found Morgan standing in the doorway of another room with her hand over her mouth. His heart almost stopped as he stared into what could only be described as a torture chamber.

Chains with cuffs attached dangled from the walls and ceiling. On a long table, he could make out whips with hooks and razor blades attached to the ends. Scalpels, knives, and bottles of liquid were lying alongside the whip. On the shelves that lined one wall were jars of liquid with objects floating in them. Stepping closer, he felt his stomach lurch when he saw eyes staring back at him.

"Oh my God, Jackson, what is this?"

He had to clear his throat before answering. "I don't know but, I think we need to call the police."

When he turned back toward her, he saw her reaching for the whip. "Uh, Morgan, I don't think you should be touching anything in here until the police get here."

Her face was pale when she looked up at him. "I don't think we need to call the police."

Jackson's mouth dropped open. "Are you fucking joking? Look at this shit. Why wouldn't we call the police?"

"Pick up the whip." Morgan stepped away from the table as he came closer.

"I'm not touching anything in this... this place."

Rubbing her arms, she looked him in the eye. "It's not real, none of this is real."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What do you mean it's not real? Look around you, Morgan! Of course, it's real."

In his anger, he reached out to pick up the whip only to have his hand pass through it. "What the hell is going on here? If this isn't real then why can we see it?

Taking his hand, Morgan started inching toward the door. "I don't know and at this point I don't care. All I want to do is get out of this room and back upstairs."

Jackson tugged his hand away and walked back to the wall of shelves containing the jars of eyes. With a shaking hand, he reached for one of the jars and almost dropped it when he picked it up. "This is real!" His smile of triumph looked demented when he turned to show her the jar he was holding.

Leaning forward, she peered into the jar and let out a relieved breath. "Yeah, that's real. It looks like a jar of beets."

"BEETS! They're eyes, can't you see that?" He couldn't believe she was making jokes at a time like this.

"Jackson, they're beets. My mom used to make them all the time when I was a little girl."

Holding the jar directly in front of his face, he was stunned to see that, what were eyes only a few minutes ago, were now beets just as she said. "But... I don't understand. I saw eyes in this jar. Not only this jar, but at least half of these jars appeared to have eyes floating in them."

"She's fucking with us." Morgan took the jar from Jackson and replaced it on the shelf. "Let's go check out the rest of those rooms."

Following her from the room, he replayed what she said in his mind. 'She's fucking with us'. "Wait, who's this 'she' you mentioned?"

"What?"

"You said 'she's fucking with us', who is this 'she'?"

Morgan heaved a sigh. "I tried to tell you before and you didn't believe me, remember?" She jumped at the sound of his sudden burst of laughter. "What the hell's so funny?"

"I just saw a torture room that wasn't really there and eyes in a jar that were really beets. I don't think there is anything you could tell me at this point that I wouldn't believe."

Morgan stopped and turned to face him. "She is a ghost or spirit or whatever. Her name is Marie and she has been screwing with me ever since I got here. I should have known that room was her idea of some sick twisted joke."

"It wasn't her idea and it wasn't a joke." The soft whisper came from behind them.

Jackson's back stiffened as he slowly turned to look back the way they had come. Standing about two feet away was the most beautiful child he had ever seen.

"Who is that?" He inched closer to Morgan and tried to take her hand.

Morgan moved her hand away from his and tried to step around him. "Her name is May."

Moving to the left, he blocked her path. "You have a child? I thought you told me that you didn't have children?"

"And I told you I didn't." Pushing against his side, she stepped around him and looked down at the little girl. "She is also a ghost. May, honey, what did you mean when you said it wasn't her idea?"

May glided a little closer to them. "I showed you that room. It isn't real now but it used to be. The town people cleaned it out after... after..."

Morgan felt tears burn the back of her throat. "Is that where she... where she hurt you?"

"Not me, others. She would bring them down here and they never came back up. I followed her once and saw..."

An unholy scream rent the air, making the hairs stand up on Jackson's neck. "What the hell was that?!"

"You have to go back upstairs now." May said, as she started fading away. "NOW! Don't let her catch you down here."

Morgan didn't wait around to see if Jackson followed or not. Racing toward the stairs, she could hear the scream getting closer and closer. Reaching the top, she spun around to slam the door only to be shoved out of the way by Jackson.

"Close the damn door!"

"I'm trying, damn it! It's stuck! A little help please."

Morgan put her back to the door and pushed. "It's not moving! Why isn't the damn thing moving!?"

A low growl was the only warning to step aside as Tiny launched himself across the room, slamming into the door with all four feet.

Both Morgan and Jackson breathed sighs of relief when they heard the door bang closed.

"I don't mean to be rude but, there is no way in hell I'm sleeping in this room. I don't know that I even want to sleep in this house"

Morgan didn't try to stop the hysterical laughter that escaped her throat. "I'm sorry. It's not funny, it's not. But it's either laugh or run screaming into the night and right about now, I'm more worried about what's waiting out there in the dark than I am what's lurking in this house."

Chuckling, Jackson glanced nervously toward the dark window. "Well, now that you mention it."

"So, now do you believe there are ghosts here?" She bent down to pet Tiny when he bumped her hip with his head.

Jackson watched her for a few minutes before answering. "I'm not sure what I believe. I'm not saying you're wrong, Lord knows I've seen enough to know something isn't right, but, ghosts?"

Morgan dropped her forehead onto Tiny's and groaned in frustration. "You saw Marie in the library and May down there, what more will it take to convince you this house is haunted?"

He didn't know what to say. He wanted to let her know he was scared shitless, but his male pride wouldn't let him.

Standing straighter, she crossed her arms under her breasts and cocked her hip to the side. "Admit it."

"Excuse me? Admit what?"

She walked over and looked up into his eyes. "Admit you're just as bugged out about all of this as I am."

Jackson turned his back to her and stared out the window into the darkness beyond. Rubbing the back of his neck, he turned to face her once more. "Fine, I'm 'bugged' out but... ghosts?"

It was Morgan's turn to put her back to him. "Then you explain what's going on here! You saw the same shit I did, if not ghosts, then what was it?"

He tried to think of anything that would cause a person to see things that were not there. "Mushrooms! There were mushrooms in our soup, right? Maybe you got a bad batch and we're both hallucinating?"

"There were no mushrooms in our soup, Jackson. I made it myself and I'm allergic to mushrooms. Plus, this isn't the first time something freaky has happened in this house."

Before he could reply, the doorbell rang. "You expecting someone?"

Morgan glanced at the clock hanging over the bedroom door. "It's three thirty in the morning, of course I'm not expecting anyone." She didn't mean to snap at him but, after what they had just been through, the last thing she wanted to do was answer the door.

The doorbell rang again followed by a series of banging.

Casting a worried look in his direction, she hurried to the living room.

Flipping on the porch light, she looked through the side window and felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Brooke?"

The name was barely a whisper coming from her mouth but Jackson felt the impact of it as if she had screamed the name in horror.

Reaching around her, he unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door. He felt his heart drop to his stomach when he saw the woman standing there and he had to remind himself to breathe. Blinking rapidly, he tried to fight the tears that rushed to his eyes. "Summer? Oh God, Summer, is it really you?"

Brooke looked at Morgan before she acknowledged Jackson. "My name is Brooke Dawson. Who the hell are you?"

Jackson's head snapped back as if she had slapped him. Even after all these years, he still remembered what her voice sounded like.

"I'm Jackson St. Clair, Morgan's attorney."

He knew she was his sister, Summer, who had gone missing when she was five years old. What he couldn't understand was why she kept looking at him as if he were a complete stranger instead of her brother.

"You don't know who I am, do you?"

"Uh... is there a reason why you think I should?" Brooke threw Morgan an irritated look. "Look, I know I said a lot of hurtful shit the last time I saw you but, is that any reason to keep me standing on the porch like I'm trying to sell you something?"

Instead of answering, Morgan tugged on the back of Jackson's shirt until he stood back to let her enter.

Turning to face Morgan, she nodded in appreciation. "Nice place, I can see why you'd want to live here. So, how..."

Before she could say anything else, Morgan was on her, embracing her in such a tight hug she could hardly breathe. "Oh, Brooke I've missed you so much. What are you doing here? How did you know where to find me? Are you hungry?" Morgan knew she was babbling but, she couldn't seem to stop herself.

"Whoa, slow down, Little Bit, one question at a time please. I've been driving all day and I'm tired." Brooke was laughing through her tears and she eased out of Morgan's embrace. "And I'm so hungry my belly thinks my throats been cut."

Morgan felt her muscles tense at Brooke's words even though she knew it was just an expression. "I have some soup left from our supper if that's alright but, if you'd rather have something else, just say the word and I'll cook it."

Taking her hand, Morgan led her toward the kitchen. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Jackson was still standing beside the door, which was still wide open. "Jackson are you leaving?"

"Huh? What?" His eyes were dazed and he shook his head as if waking from a dream.

"I asked if you were leaving." Pulling Brooke to a stop, she stared at him with concern.

"No, I was just..." Casting a glance at Brooke again, he closed and locked the door before joining them in the hallway. "Sorry, I guess I was daydreaming."

"Don't you mean night dreaming?" Looking at her wristwatch, Brooke tapped the glass dial to indicate the time.

Jackson's heart sped up again when he saw the watch. It was the same kind of watch his mother had giving Summer for her birthday just months before she disappeared. "Nice watch. Is it a family heirloom?"

"I'm not sure. I've had it since I was a little girl and, even though it's old and was appraised for a butt load of money, which by the way I could use more of, I can't seem to make myself sell it. I just love it so much." She couldn't keep from smiling as she looked at the watch.

"Did your mother give it to you?" He held his breath, waiting for her answer.

"You know, now that you mention it, I don't remember where I got it. I used to go to yard sales a lot with my mom when I was younger, maybe I got it at one of them."

Morgan rolled her eyes. "As fascinating as all this is, I seem to recall that you, Brooke Dawn, told me you were hungry."

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# CHAPTER FIFTEEN

While Morgan reheated the soup for a second time, Jackson prepared a small salad and a glass of sweet tea for Brooke. "Your middle name is Dawn?" Sitting the salad and tea down in front of her, he studied her face as she picked up her fork.

"Yeah, I know it doesn't really go with my first or last name but, it's what my mother named me. I mean really, Brooke Dawn Dawson? Kind of a mouth full, isn't it?"

He knew he was about to take a giant risk but, he had to know if he was talking to his sister or just losing his mind. "I don't think that's what your mother named you at all."

Brooke almost choked on a piece of lettuce. "Excuse me, but what the hell are you talking about? I do believe I know my own name unlike you, whom I just met like ten freaking minutes ago."

"Jackson, are you feeling okay?" Morgan brought the soup to the table and sat it down beside Brooke's tea.

"Just bear with me." He held up a finger before reaching for his wallet. "I want to show you something, Summ... huh." He couldn't bring himself to call her Brooke. Flipping open his wallet, he pulled a picture of Summer out and slid it across the table toward her.

With a tired sigh, she picked up the picture and felt a chill run down her spine. The picture showed a little girl of about four wearing a pretty blue sun dress standing with a boy of about fourteen. "This little girl looks like me but, I don't remember having this picture taken. Who is the boy?"

Jackson took a deep breath. "That is a picture of me and my sister."

Morgan scooted her chair around to sit beside Brooke so she could look at the picture. "Wow, she's right, your sister looks a lot like her when she was that age."

His eyes widened, maybe he was wrong after all. He nodded in Brooke's direction. "You knew her when she was a little girl?"

"Well... no." Morgan kept looking from the smiling boy in the picture to the frowning man across the table. "I've just seen pictures of her when she was that age."

The breath he had been holding rushed from his lungs and he pointed at the picture. "Look at her left wrist and tell me what you see."

Brooke held the picture closer to her eyes. "She's wearing a watch. Big deal, a lot of little girls wear watches."

Jackson stood up and started pacing, rubbing his temples as if he were getting a headache.

Exchanging glances and a shrug Morgan and Brooke followed him with their eyes.

"Okay, here's the thing..." He spun around to face them so fast they both jumped. "My sister was kidnapped three months after her fifth birthday. Our mother gave her a watch, that watch, for her fourth birthday. If what I'm thinking is right, inside the back casing of the one you're wearing it is inscribed "Summer Dawn St. Clair".

Brooke and Morgan looked down at the watch and then at each other before busting into nervous laughter.

"Are you saying you think I'm your sister? How can you even be sure this is the same watch? I've had the band changed twice to fit me."

Jackson's face turned red with fury and he took a menacing step in their direction. "You think this is funny!!!"

His roar of anger was met with an animalistic growl as Tiny jumped between him and the two women sitting at the table. This time Morgan didn't try to call the panther off.

"No, we do not think your sister being kidnapped is funny but, the idea that Brooke is your sister makes no sense. She would remember having a brother, don't you think?"

Jackson knew that any further explaining on his part would be useless. With a sigh, he sat back down. "Just humor me please and look inside the casing."

"Why the hell not. If it will set your mind to rest that I'm not your long-lost sister, I don't see that it's a problem." Brooke slapped her palm down on the table and Tiny rumbled in displeasure.

All three of them seemed to be holding their breath as she worked the back off the watch.

"Holy shit." Brooke stared at the watch a few seconds before bursting into tears. Inside the watch was not only the inscription but also an identical picture to the one Jackson had shown her.

"But... I don't understand." Morgan's brow drew down as she looked at them in confusion. "How can you be sure that she really is your sister? Just because that is your sisters watch doesn't mean she is your sister. You heard her, she could have picked it up at a yard sale. Besides, wouldn't she have seen the picture and inscription before now? Brooke, when was the last time you replaced the battery in that watch?"

Brooke shook her head. "Never. The watch doesn't use batteries. I've never had a reason to open the casing." Brooke looked up at Jackson and blinked back fresh tears. "You really think I could be your sister?"

"There's one way to find out without a blood test." Jackson drew in a shaky breath. "Summer had a birthmark shaped like a bird in flight between her shoulder blades."

The words were barely out of his mouth before Brooke's tears turned into wails of heartache.

Morgan jumped up to hold her friend in her arms. "Brooke, what's wrong?"

Instead of replying, Brooke stood up and turned her back to them lifting her shirt. And there, right where Jackson said it would be, was the birthmark.

Before either Jackson or Morgan could speak, she pulled her shirt back down and turned to face them. "This is too much to handle right now. I would like to take a shower and go to bed if that would be okay?" She was looking at Morgan with pleading eyes.

Morgan patted her arm and spoke in a motherly tone. "Of course, honey. Come with me and I'll show you to your room, they all have bathrooms attached. Do you have any luggage?"

Nodding her head, Brooke turned to go back out to her car.

"Wait." Jackson scrambled to his feet and walked toward the front of the house. "Let me get it for you. You just go on up and let Morgan get you settled."

Morgan's voice came from behind him before he closed the door. "Jackson?"

Looking over his shoulder, he saw her covering a yawn with the back of her hand. "Yeah?"

"I'm going to go to bed as well so, you can just leave her bags outside her door, the one right next to your room, and she'll get them when she's ready."

He had a million questions for Brooke but, looking into her tired eyes, he knew they could wait until later. "Okay, I'll see you both in the morning then. Goodnight."

"Night, Jackson." With one last glance in his direction, she turned and led Brooke up the stairs.

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# CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The next morning, it seemed as if nobody wanted to be the first to start a conversation. The only sounds in the room were the scraping of forks on their breakfast plates and the clinks of their cups on the table as they sat them down.

"Oh, this is bullshit!" Brooke pushed her plate away and grunted in annoyance.

Slightly offended, Morgan stared at her for a second before speaking. "Is there something wrong with your pancakes?"

"It's not that, honey." Reaching over, Brooke gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "It's this silence. We're sitting here, acting like total strangers, too scared to say what we're thinking. I don't know Jackson but, he seems to think I'm his sister so, shouldn't we at least be trying to figure out why?"

"She's right, Jackson." Morgan looked across the table at him and smiled before picking her fork up again.

Sighing, he stood up and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. The picture he pulled out wasn't the same one he shown them last night. Handing it to Brooke, he held his breath as he waited for her reaction.

"Oh my God, who... who is this?" Reaching up, she brushed away a single tear that ran down her cheek.

Jackson could only stare at Brooke with sadness in his eyes, knowing she truly had forgotten her real family.

"Jackson? Who is the lady in the picture?" The question came from Morgan this time.

Drawing a painful breath, he looked at Morgan. "That's my... our mother. Her name was Rebecca."

Brooke's eyes snapped toward him. "What do you mean was?"

Sitting back down, Jackson began to explain how his mother had passed away a few years ago from a stroke. "She never once stopped looking for my sister, not even when my father left us."

"Your dad left you and your mom?!" Morgan's eyes were wide with astonishment.

"Yeah. He stayed for about two years after Summer disappeared and then one day he was just... gone. We never saw him or heard from him again. It was really strange too, the way he left. He didn't give a reason; just told me I was old enough to look after mom and said we'd always be provided for and then he left."

Looking back at the picture, Brooke was amazed at how much the woman looked like her but she knew it couldn't be her mother. "I'll admit, this woman does seem familiar but that could only be because we look so much alike. Jackson, I know my mom is really my mom. I have pictures of her holding me as a baby that I can show you."

Getting up from the table, Brooke went upstairs to get her wallet from her purse.

While she was gone, Morgan took the opportunity to clean off the table and ask Jackson a few questions while she washed the dishes. "Why are you so sure Brooke is your sister?"

Carrying his plate to the sink, he shook his head. "I just know. I can't explain how I know for sure but, I feel it in my gut, she is Summer."

"But what if she isn't?"

Turning his head, he looked into her eyes. "She is."

When he tried to turn away, she placed her hand on his arm. "But what if she isn't?"

Jackson's voice was a soft whisper as he turned toward the door when he heard Brooke coming down the stairs. "Then nothing will change."

Brooke walked back into the kitchen smiling, waving a picture over her head. "Here it is, proof that my momma isn't the same person as yours." She knew she sounded like a child but, she wanted to end this once and for all.

Taking the picture from her, Jackson looked at the family portrait and felt all the blood drain from his face. "This can't be happening." Staggering back, he fell into the closest chair and brushed a shaky hand over his face.

Rushing to his side, Morgan knelt in front of him and looked at the picture he was holding. She saw Brooke as a child, being held by her father Shawn, with her mother Debra standing beside them. "Jackson, I'm so sorry you got your hopes up for nothing but, at least now you know she's not Summer."

When he didn't reply after a few minutes, she looked towards Brooke, her lips moving as she spoke silently. "Say something damn it."

Brooke shook her head and shrugged her shoulders to let Morgan know she had no clue what to say to make the situation better.

"Please say something, Jackson."

Instead of replying, he once more pulled a picture from his own wallet and handed it to Morgan.

A quick glance at the picture and she understood why he was so upset. There was no mistaken that the man standing in the photo with a teenage Jackson was anyone other than Brooke's dad, Shawn.

"I don't understand." Morgan passed the picture to Brooke, who immediately had to sit down.

Brooke looked from the picture to Jackson and back again. "How do you know my dad?" She wanted to know why this guy, that she's never met until last night, would be in a picture with her daddy.

Jackson's jaw flexed and he spoke through gritted teeth. "I know him because he.... he is my father as well."

Jackson jumped up from the chair so fast that Morgan fell back on her ass. Without saying anything, he stormed from the room and out of the house, slamming the door behind himself.

Rushing to the living room window, Morgan and Brooke saw him speeding away in his truck.

"What the hell do you think he meant when he said that Mr. Shawn was his dad too?" Looking at Brooke, she wasn't surprised to see that she already had her cell phone pressed tightly to her ear.

"Dad, it's me! I need you to call me as soon as you get this voice mail." Hitting the end button, Brooke quickly opened up her text screen and started typing.

Looking over her shoulder, Morgan read the text.

"Mom, call me."

"In answer to your question, Morgan, I don't know but I'm for damn sure going to find out!" Brooke was just about to call her father's number again when her phone rang.

"Mom, thank goodness you... Aunt Sara?" Brooke shot Morgan a 'what the hell?' look as she listened to her Aunt on the other end. "Well... do you know when they are coming back?" Her shoulders sagged and, after a few seconds, she told her aunt goodbye.

Seeing the look on her face, Morgan frowned and touched her arm. "What's wrong? Are they okay?"

Putting her phone back in her pocket Brooke turned to look back out the window. "Nothing is wrong. I guess it's just weird that mom and dad suddenly left in the middle of the night last night on a spur of the moment trip."

"And your mom left her phone?"

Looking at Morgan with troubled eyes, Brooke nodded. "That's what's weird, you know momma never leaves home without it because she's so worried something will happen to me but, Aunt Sara said she found it lying on the sofa when she took the mail in.

"When will they be back?" Morgan rubbed Brooke's back, trying to give her comfort.

Chewing her lip, she told Morgan what her aunt had told her. "No one knows. Mom called Aunt Sara last night and asked her to keep a check on the house and to take the mail in every day. She didn't say where they were going or when she should expect them back."

"Well, I'm sure they'll call you soon to let you know where they are and that they're ok. And then you can get this whole mess sorted out."

Leaving Brooke to her thoughts, Morgan went back into the kitchen to finish washing their breakfast dishes and to wait for Jackson to either return or call and explain what was going on.

By midnight, they still hadn't heard from him and it was clear he wouldn't be returning anytime soon.

"Well, Brooke, it's been a long and draining day so I think it's time me and Tiny went to bed." Stretching, Morgan looked around the room for Tiny and spotted him curled up in the same spot where she first saw May. As she continued to watch him, she noticed the fur on his back moving, as if someone were petting him.

"Brooke, look at Tiny."

With a tired sigh, Brooke glanced at Tiny and her breath caught in her throat. "What's going on? Why is his fur moving like that?"

Before Morgan could respond, May became visible to Brooke. "Oh my gosh, Morgan do you see her?"

Morgan smiled and nodded. "Her name is May and I have to find a way to help her." With that said, Morgan turned and walked up the stairs with Brooke close behind, leaving Tiny in the living room with May.

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# CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Three weeks later, Jackson still hadn't called or returned and it was time for Brooke to go back home.

"Do you think he's okay?" Brooke looked up at Morgan as she closed the door before putting the key in the ignition and starting her car.

Morgan leaned in and kissed Brooke's cheek. "I'm sure he's fine sweetie and I promise, I will call you as soon as I hear from him. You drive safely and call me when you make it home."

"I will." Brooke shifted the car into reverse and poked her head out the window. "And I will let you know if I find out how my dad and Jackson know each other."

Morgan stepped back from the car and waved as Brooke drove away. Feeling a nudge on her leg, she looked down expecting to see Tiny. Instead, May stood beside her with a sad smile on her face. "I liked your friend. She didn't yell or run away when she saw me like everybody else does. She's always been nice to me."

"I noticed that too." Morgan looked back at the road and saw a tiny speck of silver that was Brooke's car. May's last few words finally dawned on her and her brow wrinkled in confusion. "What do you mean, she's always been nice?"

May stared up at her and a strange smile spread across her face before she faded from sight.

Morgan waited for a call or visit from Jackson for two more months before trying to call his office only to be told he had taking an extended leave of absence. The visits from May continued and became a daily occurrence that Morgan found enjoyable.

Tiny spent more and more time outside roaming the yard and woods beyond and Morgan worried each night that he would choose not to return. But each night, just as it started getting dark, Tiny would appear at the edge of the woods and Morgan could once again breathe easily knowing he was home and safe.

She found it a little odd that since Jackson and Brooke had left she hadn't had an encounter with Marie but, as long as she was gone, Morgan wasn't complaining.

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# CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

A month later, she was awakened by the phone on her nightstand ringing. Fumbling in the dark she found the phone and brought the receiver to her ear. "This shit better be good since you're waking me up in the middle of the night."

"It's Jackson and it's ten a.m."

Morgan shot straight up in the bed, wide awake now. "Jackson? Where the hell have you been, man!?"

After a brief pause she heard his voice. "I'll explain when I get there in a bit. I was just calling to make sure you were home. You're not going to believe the shit I found out."

"You're on your way here? Now?"

"Is that a problem?" Jackson's voice was harsh and he sounded irritated.

Making a rude gesture at the phone, she let out a sigh. "No, it's not a problem. I just need to get my shower and get dressed before you arrive. You did wake me up, remember?"

Jackson released a tired chuckle. "I'm fifteen to twenty minutes away, is that enough time for you?"

Morgan was already standing at the closet trying to find some clothes to put on after her shower. "That's plenty of time. I'll see you when you get here."

Hanging up the phone, she ran toward the bathroom to get the shower started. As she was getting undressed, she heard Tiny downstairs scratching to be let out. "Hold on, fuzzy butt." Running downstairs, she held open the door and, after letting him out, she closed the door, turned the deadbolt and raced toward the stairs. Halfway up, she felt a searing pain in her back that brought her to her knees. Reaching back, what she felt made her stomach lurch and vomit spewed from her mouth. Her fingers sank into her flesh and she knew that she was touching bone. Her vision blurred and she tried to crawl the rest of the way up the stairs. A scream tore from her throat as she felt her body lifted and she was suddenly flung over the railing by an unseen force.

"You didn't think I was gone for good, did you, bitch?"

Morgan barely had time to register that it was Marie attacking her before she was being pulled across the room by her hair. Getting her feet under her, she twisted herself free and turned to confront the demonic bitch, but she wasn't there. Spinning in a circle, she searched the room, blinking rapidly and trying her damnedest not to pass out.

Just when she was thinking Marie was no longer in the room, she was lifted again and thrown against the wall.

As she slid down the wall, her vision began fading. Her mind screamed out in fury and she silently cried out. 'Tiny, help me.' She heard Tiny growl and throw his body against the door. Even in the middle of passing out she knew he'd never reach her in time. 'This is how I'm going to die.'

Laying there, bleeding out and gasping for every breath, her eyes slowly started drifting closed.

Before she lost full consciousness, she thought she saw Tiny standing in front of her and then he started to stand on two legs before shifting into a man.

She struggled to open her eyes again to see the man who had came to her rescue. She felt gentle hands move over her back and her last thought before everything went black was...

'Surely I'm hallucinating.'

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# All questions and inquiries can be sent to...

Author Ginger Elinburg

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Connecting independent readers to independent writers.
Also by Ginger Elinburg

Wicked

Wicked Welcome

Beyond Wicked

Wicked: Family Ties

Pantar

Damien: The Guardian

Dimitri: Deadly Obsession

Donovan: Unleashed

Standalone

Always Girl

Hunted by Death

Sharp Edges

Whispered Deceit

Killian's Pass

Draçon

Hunted by Death II

We All Fall

Watch for more at Ginger Elinburg's site.
