This Blackened Night by L.K. Below Read Free Book Online

clothes, a thought took her by surprise. How old was Terrence? Could he be old enough to make her dream a vision? She turned, clutching her garments to her chest.
    Terrence lifted his gaze from where he’d clearly been staring at her ass. She narrowed her eyes. “Just how old are you, anyway?”
    He laughed. His grin turned wicked as he strode forward.
    Lori stifled the urge to back away.
    When he stood less than a foot away, he purred, “Are you worried about the age difference, Lori my love? I promise you, nothing silly like age can come between us.”
    With her arms occupied, she couldn’t cross them over her chest. Instead, she stiffened her stance as much as she could. “Answer the question.”
    “I’ve survived two waves of the Black Death. Does that answer your question?”
    While she wasn’t the best judge of historical periods, that definitely made him old enough to have starred in her vision. She’d guess the vision had occurred in the eighteenth or nineteenth century. The Bubonic Plague had occurred sometime in the 1300s, from what she could recall of her Medieval history class.
    Had her dream been a vision? But if it was a vision, why had she been in it?
     

 
    Chapter 8
     
    Lori growled in frustration when Terrence refused to enter the bar again with her. What, did he fear they might serve him garlic bread?
    After she’d showered and changed, he’d insisted on splitting up again, even though she’d invited him with her this time. But as soon as she’d started to seriously search, he’d changed his mind. So she was back to pretending to look until she could lose him. By all rights, she should be relieved he didn’t want to come inside with her. But it bugged her.
    In their motel, he’d sent her longing glances. He’d flirted. But now that they searched for leads, he avoided her like she was diseased. Standing far back, in the shadows. Following behind instead of beside. She didn’t understand.
    But she wasn’t going to put up with his frosty silence night after night. She reached forward to grab his hand, thinking to drag him into the bar.
    A vision assaulted her. The same one she’d dreamed only hours before.
    Lori exited from the barn clutching a vial. Without turning around, she spat, “I said leave me be, Devil. I’ll have no part of your deceit.” When Terrence separated from the shadows, she turned, mouth tense. “I know you for the devil you are.”
    The vision ended there, before Lori could properly discern the time period or anything else of use. When she blinked, her sight returned.
    Terrence wrenched himself from her grasp, turning away. He seemed to know she’d seen something. Why else would he pull away? He’d been doing whatever he could to get nearer when they’d been alone in the motel room. But how much about her vision did he know? Just that she’d had one, or did he suspect what she’d seen? She needed to see his face clearly. But he hadn’t come into the light all evening.
    She swiveled her hips and sidled closer, sure of one tactic he wouldn’t be able to resist. Reaching out, she ran her hands over the arm of his jacket to his shoulder and readied herself for a kiss.
    Terrence turned completely away from her. She stared, agape, at his back. A small moon crescent was inked on his neck. Funny how she’d never noticed it before. But then again, most of the time she was face to face with him, or fending off his advances.
    Curling her fists, she backed away. “Whatever. I’ll go in by myself.”
    She was not disappointed at the lack of a kiss. Or so she told herself.
    She welcomed the babble of slurred voices as she entered the bar. This time the faint reek of vomit accompanied it. Apparently, someone had overindulged even at this relatively early time in the evening. Thankfully, she wouldn’t be staying here long. This was only a ploy to lose Terrence.
    A quick glance behind confirmed that he hadn’t followed her into the bar. Good. Making as little eye