Dark Journey by Anne Stuart Read Free Book Online Page A

slept on. And somewhere overhead, Laura probably dreamed ignorant, erotic dreams about the stranger.
    Alex Montmort was the only question mark, a risk that Jeremy found exciting. He didn't want to be excited. He wanted to sit coolly and calmly at the old man's bedside while family died, and he wanted to keep his pleasure in the act under the tightest of reins.
    Maybe the stranger would change his mind and go in search of Cynthia. Maybe he would climb into bed with her—Cynthia was always ready for more. And then he would be found dead in the guest house, as well.
    Carbon monoxide. An odorless, colorless gas. Lethal, undetectable. So very, very sad, Jeremy thought, composing his face into stolid lines of grief. And then he chuckled again.

    A lex stretched his legs out in front of him, watching the storm from the balcony chair. It was growing colder, he suspected, though he was impervious to it. The faint drizzle had turned to icy pellets dashing themselves against his flesh, and he felt the sting with a certain wry delight. Life was a painful process, apparently. He was unused to the elements interfering with him—they were usually his to command.
    As were people. Laura Fitzpatrick's reaction to his high-handed ways amused him, as well. She seemed patently unwilling to do what he wanted, a fact which astonished him. He had no doubt that even with his diminished powers he could make the others obey him without question.
    Perhaps Laura would be equally docile if he exerted himself. But he didn't want her docile.
    A gust of wind came up, and a streak of lightning split the sky. He watched it moodily. He felt restless, as if he should be doing something.
    Of course he should be doing something. He should be following his ordained path, taking those souls who were ready to go. Instead, he was ignoring their cries, determined for once to listen only to his own selfish wants.
    The calls were getting louder, nearer, and he wondered whose they could be. The old man, of course, but his voice, persistent, weak, was unchanged. Was it Laura's?
    If Laura called to him, he would go to her. He would end this sojourn, take her with him and never let her go.
    Ah, but he didn't have that choice. Even for a creature as powerful as he, there were limitations. He could take her, of course, and he would. But then he would lose her, as she went on to the next step.
    No, it wasn't her voice. And there were no other voices he chose to listen to right now, only Laura's and his own. No other souls to deal with but theirs.
    Except that he doubted he had a soul in the first place. That part had always been unclear to him, and by now he wasn't sure he wanted an answer.
    He rose, wandering to the edge of the railing, and looked out over the thickly wooded hillside. He glanced over to the left, to the smaller, log-crafted guest house, and his eyes narrowed. The voices were coming from that direction.
How interesting,
he thought, wrinkling his forehead.
Unexpected.
    His shirt was stiff with ice. He moved back to the French doors that led to his room. There was a fire in the fireplace, a fact that amused him, and the down comforter lay on the high bed. He almost pulled it away, then thought better of it. He wouldn't need it.
    But Laura might. When the time came for her to share the bed.
    He stripped off his sodden clothes and tossed them over a chair, then glanced down at himself. It was the body he was used to. Strong, spare, without discernible weakness. It was a body men and women found attractive, and that was partly how he managed to persuade them to come with him. Those who needed persuading.
    He wasn't sure about Laura. Whether she would need persuasion or force. Seduction, or simply the crook of his finger.
    He knew only that he wanted her, needed her so badly that his self-control was close to shattering. Those voices crying to him wouldn't have long to wait.

    L aura lay in bed, listening. She'd heard him on the balcony, and it had taken all her