Fighting the Flames (Firefighter Romance #1)(42)
Jacqueline twisted her hands, noting the same reaction swirling inside her gut. She never did learn the truth. The murderer had taken off into the night, not bothering to see if his victim was alive or dead. The police had arrived moments later, questioned her, but she kept the magic to herself.
Tossing the covers aside, she paced, rubbing her arms as her mind reran the events of Eric’s last moments.
She had lain in the mud as his face appeared above her, worry lines etched into his forehead. A melodious howl carried on the stiff wind. Death was going to claim her.
“No, Jackie.” Eric's stern voice drew her attention. Blood dripped down the side of his face. “Don't listen to the song. It's not your time to become one of them.”
Her breath sucked in as a hand brushed her lips. What had he meant by those words? Jacqueline paused, focusing on the ground below her window and holding the memory frozen in her mind.
She had said, “Eric, baby…” But the strength slipped from her body before she’d finished. Something dark had tugged at her spirit, something that wanted her to let go of life.
What a weird thought…
“No,” he had whispered as the lines on his forehead deepened. With a deep breath, Eric had raised his head to the night sky and chanted the strange words. His hands had glowed with a soft, comforting white light, and as he placed them on her chest, just above her heart, heat had slid into her skin. The tugging evaporated.
No explanation or words like I love you left his pale lips. Empty wide eyes stared into nothingness as she shouted his name. Slowly, he crumpled to the ground. Jacqueline shrieked as she did in the present, as she did every night the nightmare of her life replayed.
Three hundred and sixty-five days had passed yet the emotionless dread of that night haunted her sleeping and waking moments. Willing her heart to still, she studied the ground seeking traces of the man she loved, searching for truth in the strangeness of the murderous night.
Jacqueline leaned against the windowpane, resting her head on the cool glass. A silent wish fogged the surface, but she did not awaken from the horror, as she wanted. Eric was dead. Eric was never coming back to her and she would never learn why he died that night. Why he had sacrificed himself or how. After five years of marriage, she was alone.
That night she’d thrown herself on his cold, stiff body. Jacqueline had pounded on his chest. All the while the spot where the man had hit her ached in a torturous burn as her heart shattered.
Her skin tingled then and now. A million sparks danced in her stomach, and the oddest sensation of power rippled through her abdomen. Breath fogged the window again, dotted with raindrops, and she drew a heart as a single tear blinked free. Her heart raced, and dizziness washed over Jacqueline. She could not explain the sensation that night as she hunched over Eric’s body, rain mingling with her shrieking sobs as a new energy rose through her body until it reached her vocal chords.
A dog barked, but her mind reeled in the past despite her present actions. Jacqueline lifted her face. Her mouth opened and a long wail flew free from within her.
The howl had a harmony lifting through the air, skimming the rain, and dancing through the darkness as it carried along her grief. As she finished, Jacqueline caught her reflection in the glass. Her brown eyes glowed green.
****
Three miles away, Toby Williams rubbed a damp towel over his countertop. He'd flipped off the neon sign for Merlyn's Bar as a hum floated through the air. At first, it was faint, a soft song that sounded vaguely familiar, a melody he’d heard a year ago. He froze at the window and stared, curious as to whom or what made the sound. But he knew. In the deep recesses of his mind, he knew the cadence of the banshee’s deadly embrace. Toby only needed to find the source.
Located at the end of an old dirt road that ran parallel to the river, a last stop for river rafters and tubers before they journeyed into the Galesburg Falls, the bar was far from civilization. Trees lined the lonely road on both sides, bending low and creating a tunnel-like effect at night. Toby listened to the strange song, aware of the listless air, almost as if nature too had paused to listen to the mysterious tune.
But as Toby observed, the trees rustled one by one, as a gust of wind blew through their leaves. He shoved the bar door, rushing into the parking lot, and filled his lungs with air. One sniff of the air foretold rain, odd for July, as normally this part of the state didn't see rain again until October.
The lilting tune loudened, carried by the forceful gusts, until the dejected song itself seemed to wrap around him, causing his cynical heart to beat faster. Narrowed eyes scrutinized, searching for the magical cause. Tugging at the blond beard he'd been growing for the last few months, his curiosity piqued. What was making that sound again?
A year ago, he had heard the same song, and the same draw yanked at his heart. Toby had stood in this exact spot. Movement to his left had caught his attention as something or someone hid in the bushes near the bar.
“Reveal,” he had said, waving his hand in the air as if parting a curtain. Toby was a wizard, one of a few living among mankind on earth. A gift from the goddess Morrigan. The bushes had obliged, displaying a small man trembling behind the brush.
“Who are you?” Toby had called out.
The man jumped up, clapped his hands together, and without a word, he had disappeared into thin air.
“Shit,” Toby had muttered. “Another wizard. What the hell is going on now?”