Saint’s Grove, Virginia
1883
Aurora clutched the handle of her valise a bit tighter as she exited the train, her pulse hammering out an anxious rhythm in her throat. She had been looking forward to this visit for weeks, but could not help the doubts that had plagued her during the entire train ride from North Carolina to Virginia.
Almost an entire year had passed since Isaac’s graduation from Shaw University. Being two years behind him, she had remained on campus, despite being engaged to marry him. While she couldn’t think of anything she wanted more than becoming Mrs. Isaac Parker, she had come to Shaw to pursue an education, not a husband. Even though he’d expressed his desire to have her at his side in Saint’s Grove while he worked to build the warehouse for Parker Foods, Isaac had been understanding of her stance. They had agreed that he would prepare a home for them in Virginia, while she completed her final two years at Shaw.
They’d been communicating by letter, and he had traveled by train to visit her as often as he could. Their time together always seemed far too short, causing a deep, resounding ache in the pit of her stomach whenever it came time for him to leave again.
Would distance cause her to lose him? With the distractions of life in a new city, Isaac was sure to forget all about her. She didn’t doubt he found himself faced with women far more alluring than her on a daily basis. What made her think he would continue to remain faithful to her while she kept him waiting?
Isaac would never leave you behind, she reminded herself. Loving you is literally a part of who he is.
With those thoughts comforting her, she hung her bag from the crook of her arm and stood on tiptoe to glance around the station. He’d promised to meet her here, so he couldn’t be far away. The place bustled with movement and noise as people came and went from the stalled train which sat huffing smoke on the steel tracks. The new Parker Foods warehouse would be close by, as Isaac had mentioned their plans to use railroads to expand their distribution further north.
Turning in a slow circle, she paused when she finally spotted him some distance away. His height made him distinguishable from others in the crowd, as did the hat he always wore with his coat. Her smile stretched wider, and a sound akin to laughter escaped her throat as he turned and spotted her. His smile spoke in a way words never could, and she knew for certain how foolish she had been to doubt his feelings for her.
He began shouldering his way toward her through the crowd, and she followed suit, muttering courtesies to the people she passed as she worked to make her way to him. Finally, she stood in his arms, her valise forgotten at her feet as his hands gripped her waist in a possessive hold and yanked her against him. A sigh of relief mingled with a whimper of surrender when their lips met, the familiar flame sparking between them with nary an effort. She wrapped an arm around his neck, using her other hand to keep her hat perched on top of her head as his hold became tighter, causing her to lose her balance and her knees to grow weak.
“Well,” she murmured as they pulled apart. “Hello to you, too, Mr. Parker.”
“You are a sight for sore eyes,” he replied, giving her another, punctuated kiss to emphasize his words. “I’ve missed you.”
“And I you,” she said.
“I hope the train ride wasn’t too atrocious. I’m certain you must be exhausted.”
She flashed him a sly grin and swayed against him. “Not too tired for a proper reunion.”
Lifting his eyebrows, he chuckled. “That is good to know. You stay right here, and I’ll go fetch your bags. I know that isn’t the only one you brought.”
“A lady always brings the right clothing for every occasion,” she teased, batting her eyelashes at him as he began backing away from her.
His laughter became muffled as the crowd swallowed him. Aurora remained where he’d left her, taking up her valise once more. She’d only been standing there alone for a moment when a slight woman approached her. Large eyes peered at her from a porcelain face framed by vibrant auburn hair. Dressed fashionably, the woman was quite striking, though something about her expression sent a chill down Aurora’s spine.
“Miss Aurora Barton, I presume,” the woman said, her soft voice holding an edge like the blade of a knife.
Frowning, she clutched her bag tight in front of her. “I beg your pardon. Have we met?”
“No, but I know all about you,” the woman whispered, inching closer. “Isaac talks of little else.”
Forcing a smile, Aurora tried to remember whether Isaac had mentioned a woman fitting this one’s description in any of his letters. “Oh, you know Isaac?”
Grasping her arm in a hold tighter than an iron shackle, the woman pulled her off balance, causing her to drop her valise. “Know him? I love him! I understand him in ways you never could, and the sooner you realize that and leave us both alone, the better off you will be.”
Shock and anger straightened her spine and seemed to heat Aurora’s blood, giving her the strength to wrench away from the other woman’s hold. “I do not know who you are or what you’re talking about, but if you touch me again, I am going to make sure you regret it.”
The woman laughed, the sound rising above the din to echo through the night. Aurora could not deny the fear that curled in her gut and made her insides churn. Who was this woman, and what did she want with Isaac?
“You are the one who will regret this,” the woman muttered as she began backing away. “Leave, now. Get back on your train and go home. This is your final warning.”
She then disappeared into the crowd, her swift footsteps carrying her away in the blink of an eye. Hands shaking, Aurora turned to find Isaac approaching, her larger luggage in hand.
He frowned when he reached her side, then touched her face with his free hand. “What’s wrong?”
Pinching her lips together, she debated telling him about the odd woman. He obviously hadn’t seen the encounter, or he wouldn’t have to ask her about the frown lines marring her face.
For a moment, the doubts she’d experienced before resurfaced. Had Isaac conducted a love affair with this woman behind her back? Why would she claim to love him if Isaac hadn’t given her reason to believe he loved her as well? Tears stung her eyes, but she forced them back.
No, it couldn’t be true. She and Isaac had a connection that went beyond the physical. It was visceral. He would never hurt her that way. Perhaps it was some sort of misunderstanding. Deciding it could wait until they were indoors, she squared her shoulders and put it out of her mind for the time being.
“Maybe I am a bit more tired than I thought,” she said. “Can we go now?”
Placing a hand at the small of her back, he nodded. “Of course.”
He led her away from the cloistered train station, and as they began to walk, she craned her neck to take in the place that would soon become her home. The quaint town had gone mostly quiet for the night, with the soft yellow glow of gas lamps illuminating cobbled streets.
“There’s the warehouse,” he pointed out, drawing her attention to the wooden building not far from the station. “The building is complete, at least on the outside. Now, we’re focused on preparing the inside for storage. Would you like to see?”
Despite still feeling a bit uneasy, she tried to push the encounter with the other woman from her mind, determined not to let it spoil this visit.
“Of course,” she replied.
A short while later, they arrived in front of the building, which was dark inside. Isaac produced a set of keys, one of which opened the padlock keeping the large sliding doors securely closed. Pulling one of them open, then the other, he flooded the space with moonlight, then gestured for her to precede him inside.
“It’s not much yet,” he said, laying her bag down on the ground and coming to stand beside her. “But it will be.”
Leaning against him, she rested her head on his shoulder. “It’s everything … you’ve worked hard this year, and I’m so proud of you.”
Turning to face her, he smiled. “Proud, eh? How proud?”
Unable to resist the laughter bubbling in her chest, she took a step toward him and grinned. “You want me to show you?”
Groaning, he leaned into her, pressing his body against hers in a clear attempt to show her how affected he was by her nearness.
“Yes, please.”
She dropped her bag and reached up to remove her hat, not caring that they were in a public place or that the doors hung open for anyone who happened to walk by to see. It had been too long, and she’d missed him. The ache within her had grown too strong to ignore.
Kissing him, she allowed him to reach up toward the buttons lining the front of her coat. Loosening them one by one, he then slipped his hands inside it to span her waist. He had just begun working at the fastenings of her dress when some unseen force slammed into her, throwing her so that she landed on her back. The wind knocked from her, she could hardly draw breath, let alone scream, as it seemed to pull her, dragging her away from Isaac and into a blackened corner of the building.
“Aurora!” Isaac’s cry followed her into the dark, his footsteps resounding as he ran toward her.
The pale face of the woman from the train station loomed over her as she struggled to stand but found that she could not move.
“I warned you,” the woman ground out from behind clenched teeth, her hands balled into fists. “You should have heeded my advice.”
“Edith!” Isaac bellowed, coming into view. “What are you doing?”
Aurora turned her head to glance at him, finding his face stricken by both panic and anger. “You know this woman?”
His nostrils flared as he took another step toward them. “No … at least, not in the way she claims. Edith, leave her alone. Aurora has done nothing to deserve this. If you need someone to take your anger out on, I’m standing right here.”
“No!” Edith screeched, raising her hands to cover her ears as if to block out Isaac’s voice. “I will hear no more! Nothing you say can be true when you’ve become hypnotized by this … this witch!”
He raised a brow, taking another step closer.
“She isn’t a witch. You are,” he said, confirming Aurora’s supposition. “And I just want you to let her go. Can you do that for me? If you love me the way you say you do, you have to know that hurting her is only going to make me hate you. Just let her leave, and you and I can talk about this. All right? Just let her go.”
He seemed afraid to risk angering the woman, and she could not blame him. The glint of a weapon in her hand had become apparent, and Aurora still could not move. She remembered Isaac mentioning Saint’s Grove being a place steeped in urban legend and folklore involving witches. While many did not believe the stories, she had always wondered if there must be some truth to the tales. After all, she and Isaac possessed a connection to the spiritual world that would have seemed unbelievable before they’d found each other and unlocked the truth. If their cycle of birth, love, death, and rebirth was real, then it stood to reason that witches were also.
Shaking her head, Edith sneered. “I can’t leave … not until you are free from her spell. I’m doing this for you, Isaac … for us.”
Aurora remained powerless as Edith fell to one knee beside her and brought the weapon down toward her with a speed and precision that left her breathless. Isaac lunged toward them, arms outstretched as he threw his weight against Edith. The two went rolling across the floor as something warm and sticky began to cascade over her throat and chest, soaking the front of her dress.
Reaching up, she found the knife embedded in her throat. A scream burned in her chest, but she couldn’t release it. Her limbs became free once more, allowing her to move, but her strength was slowly being sapped by the fountain of her blood spilling out to rush across the floor.
Through eyes gone blurry, she watched as Edith threw Isaac away from her with a wave of one hand. He landed on a pile of lumber resting in the corner, grunting at the impact. Aurora looked on, helpless and drowning in her own blood, as he struggled to right himself. Yet, even as he got back on his feet and began racing toward them again, she knew it was too late.
Edith approached her once more, crouching to grasp the knife still wedged in her throat.
“You will not have him,” she whispered as she yanked the blade loose before dragging it across her throat from ear to ear.
A blood-curdling cry split the air, and though Aurora’s lips had fallen open, she realized the sound did not come from her. It was Isaac, whose grief hurt her far more than any weapon ever could.
Edith disappeared, and a moment later, his face appeared over her, swimming in a haze of darkness and blood. She could taste it in her mouth, smell its metallic tang. Isaac cradled her head, attempting to stop the blood flow with one hand pressed to the wound. Staring up at him with bleary eyes, she wanted to tell him that it was too late. Yet, as he looked down at her, his tears falling in a deluge that splashed her face, she understood that he knew it, as well.
“I’m sorry,” he cried, his voice tortured and rough. “I couldn’t … I didn’t save you … I-I’m sorry!”
Holding her against his chest, he pressed his lips to her forehead and rocked her back and forth. Between sobs, he continued repeating “I’m sorry” over and over. Within seconds, she had grown numb, unable to feel anything other than her heart breaking at the thought of leaving Isaac alone.
She struggled to keep her eyes open, and failed. But even then, his voice rang out clear as a bell …
“Anika!”
A pair of hands grasped her shoulders firmly and gave her a shake, disengaging her from the horrifying memory of her death at Edith’s hands. Terror kept her in its talons as her senses became overwhelmed by the scent and taste of blood, the pain of being cut open, the agony of watching Isaac give up once he’d realized she would never survive.
“Anika, wake up!”
Another shake, this one jolting her back to consciousness. With a gasp and a violent jerk, she opened her eyes and found Isaac, his brow knit with worry as he stared down at her. Her lungs burned as if even in this lifetime, the memory of drowning in her own blood had made it difficult to breathe. Sucking in mouthfuls of precious air, she collapsed back onto the pillow, now acutely aware of the sweat soaking her clothes and the tears wetting her cheeks.
“I’m all right,” she whispered. Her voice betrayed her—a ragged whisper made hoarse by her screams and cries.
Lying on his side next to her, he pulled her into his arms, cradling her much the way he had in her nightmarish memories. Stroking damp curls back from her forehead, he kissed her temple.
“You dreamt about Edith, didn’t you?” he asked.
She nodded. “It was terrible, Isaac. The way she looked at me … I’ve never experienced such hatred in my life. Why did she do it?”
With a sigh, he lifted his head, propping it up on his hand to stare down at her. “I met Edith within a week of moving to Saint’s Grove. I came to the train station to meet with a man my father had been in contact with about arranging incoming and outgoing shipments of products by train. When I got there, I saw her sitting on a bench beside a pile of trunks and bags. She was crying as if someone had broken her heart, and I took pity on her.”
Opening her eyes, she turned to face him, taking comfort in his nearness. Her breathing had slowed, as had her racing heart.
“You were always so gallant,” she murmured. “Always thinking of others.”
He snorted. “In the case of Edith, I wish I had kept walking. It would seem that the simple act of stopping to offer her a handkerchief and asking why she was crying was enough to seal my fate and yours. She told me that a man had offered her marriage and asked her to come to Saint’s Grove … before leaving her cold for someone else. I saw this poor woman sitting there with what looked to me like everything she owned, and I thought of my sisters. I pitied her, so I offered her help. I postponed my appointment and made it my business to see her settled into a hotel. I even paid for a hired carriage to deliver her bags to the suite. I gave her my address and told her to call on me if she ever needed help. I should never have done that.”
She reached up to cup his face, finding his jaw rough with days’ worth of stubble. “You were trying to help someone you thought might be in trouble. It isn’t your fault.”
“It is,” he insisted. “She started showing up at my house, following me around town … sending me gifts. At first, I tried to humor her, telling her I was flattered but that I had a fiancée. She wouldn’t listen … I suppose she thought she could seduce me away from you, but that was never going to happen. Eventually, I just started ignoring her, hoping she would take the hint and give up. It only seemed to make her want me more.”
Smiling, she kissed him. “You are pretty irresistible.”
He tried to smile, but she could tell he didn’t feel like laughing. “I should have tried harder to make her stop. Before long, I discovered that she was a witch, but didn’t put much stock in her power. Most of Saint’s Grove’s covens were harmless, and I thought she was, too. I underestimated her, and it got you killed. I have never forgiven myself.”
“You have to stop that,” she insisted, sitting upright on the bed and running a hand over her bedraggled hair. “Fifty-two years is a long time to let yourself be weighed down by grief. Edith is an evil person, and she is the only one to blame for what happened. You have paid the price ten times over, but now, you’re free … and tomorrow, you can go back through the rift and die in peace, knowing that someday, I’ll be yours again.”
Joining her in sitting up, he sighed. “I don’t think I’m going to go back tomorrow.”
She scowled. “What do you mean? You told me you had to go back. We don’t know how you staying in the wrong time period can affect our bond, or our future lives.”
Reaching out, he took her hands and grasped them in a tight hold. “Anika, I didn’t mean I won’t go back at all. I simply meant that we have a few more days before the rift closes. In that time, I intend to find Edith and kill her. Flora told me how.”
Jerking away from his hold, she shot to her feet, the rapid cadence taking up a resounding pulse in her chest again. “But you can’t! You’re mortal now, which means she will either kill you or curse you again. We can’t take that chance!”
“We can’t take the chance of leaving her alive,” he countered, rising to stand on the other side of the bed. “Don’t you understand? The pieces of the Star Anthame are here in Saint’s Grove, which means it’s only a matter of time before she puts it back together. She knows you are here in town, and she knows I will continue to try to find my way back to you.”
“Isaac—”
“I won’t lose you again!” he bellowed, startling her into silence.
Clenching her jaw, she squared her shoulders and glared at him. “Oh, so this is about you? What about me, Isaac? What am I supposed to do … stand back and watch her kill you?”
The tension melted from him, and he slumped back against the wall, running a hand over his haggard face. “Anika, no. That’s not how this is going to happen.”
“You don’t know that,” she argued, crossing her arms over her chest. “Nothing is guaranteed, and we’ve already lost so much time. If she kills me in this life, I can be reborn again. But if she kills you here, there is no coming back. I will never see you again, and I …”
She trailed off, unable to keep the tears back this time. Biting back a sob, she shook her head as the first hot tear splashed her cheek, racing down toward her jaw.
“I am not going to let you do that to me, you selfish idiot,” she said, making her way toward the bathroom door which hung open, offering her an escape. “You are going back tomorrow, and that is it. Do you hear me? You’re going back!”
Entering the small bathroom, she slammed the door behind her and locked it. Isaac’s footsteps sounded on the other side, and she could see his shadow from the crack between it and the floor.
“Anika,” he called out, his voice low. “Open the door.”
“No.”
Getting into the glass shower stall, she turned the water to hot. She could hear his voice, but the pounding of the water against the tiles drowned him out. She paused, coming out of the shower to press a hand against the unyielding wood. Guilt assailed her, but she couldn’t open the door … not yet.
Undressing quickly, she left her sweat-dampened clothes in the hamper and stepped beneath the steaming water. She sighed with relief as the hot water began to ease her tense muscles, but it could do nothing to ease her mind. The fact was, Isaac spoke the truth. As long as Edith was alive, they might never be safe. Even if she left Saint’s Grove, there always remained the chance that they would be discovered—either in this life or the next. Their appearance remained the same from life to life, and Edith would recognize them on sight.
Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back and allowed the water to wash over her, soaking her from head to toe. Isaac was right, and she needed a moment to come to terms with what that might mean. It likely meant that she was going to have to resolve herself to an all or nothing deal. Either Edith had to die, so they could be together forever, life after life, in peace … or Edith would kill him and he would never come back. How was she supposed to go on if that happened?
Perhaps, her next life would be much like her current one. She would never remember Isaac if he couldn’t become reincarnated and find her again. Which meant she would never know what she was missing. The thought of losing him that way made her profoundly sad. Yet, the notion of having to live in constant fear struck her as being no way to truly live.
Determined, she made quick work of washing her hair, then her body. Stepping from the shower, she killed the water and wrapped herself in a towel, not bothering to dry off completely before opening the door and stepping out into the bedroom.
Isaac stood beside the bed, having just changed the sheets for her. He held the soiled ones over one arm, pausing to stare at her as she stepped into the room. Her hair was still damp, a few curls dripping water onto her shoulders, but she ignored it as she crossed the room toward him.
“We go after her together,” she declared. “Or we don’t do this at all. My future is just as much at stake as yours.”
Dropping the sheets onto the floor, he rounded the bed toward her. “I don’t want you in danger.”
“It’s too late,” she argued. “I’m in danger because I love you, and Edith apparently has a problem with that. You’re in danger because you’re no longer immortal, and if she can’t have you this time, she might just kill you. The universe just unleashed Hell onto this world, so the whole damn human race is in danger. But, if we’re going to be in danger, we’re going to do it together.”
He nodded, his shoulders slumped. “If that is what you want—”
“What I want is you,” she interjected, closing the distance between them. “Whatever it takes to make that happen, I’m on board. Just don’t try to leave me on the sidelines. Okay?”
Wrapping his arms around her, he nodded again. “All right.”
Rising up on her tiptoes, she offered him her mouth and he accepted it with relish. His breath quickened, his muscles going hard at her fingertips as she fit herself more tightly against him.
“Anika, you should—”
Pressing a finger to his mouth, she shook her head. “No, Isaac. Don’t try to give me any more reasons why we shouldn’t do this. One, or both of us, could be dead at the end of the week. Nothing is right or fair about how any of this has happened, but we don’t have to dwell on that now. Right now, all we need to think about is us … the one thing here that is right.”
Reaching up, she loosened the towel and allowed it to fall away from her naked body. A few streams of water slithered down her skin, tickling her breasts and belly. The sensation was nothing compared to that of Isaac’s gaze tracing every line and curve, drinking her in with naked hunger.
“When I dreamed about us being together that day in my dorm room,” she murmured, “I felt so empty after waking up.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“Because Aurora was lucky. You were her first and only, but I … I’ve been with men.”
His jaw ticked and he scowled. “I don’t think I like where this is going.”
Laughing, she held one hand up. “Hear me out. I’ve been with them, but it was never what I thought it would be. I always had this idea of what making love would be like with the perfect man, and not one of them ever came close. Over time, I just stopped trying, thinking that there was something wrong with me.”
Isaac grinned as his gaze slid up and down the length of her body. “Love, there isn’t a thing wrong with you.”
Bracing her hands on her hips, she gave him a coy smirk. “Prove it.”