The Mirror (The Lost Bride Trilogy #2)

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Though she felt so used up, so loose, so sated she thought she could sleep through an alien invasion, Sonya pulled on a T-shirt and sleep shorts.

“If I walk,” she told Trey, “I don’t want to walk naked. That’s just weird on top of weird.”

“You look good naked.”

“I’ll take that compliment, and still.” In bed, she snuggled up against him. “You look good naked, too.”

“And still, I’ll pull on pants if you walk. I’ll be with you.”

“I know.”

With a hand over his heart, she slid straight into sleep.

At three, with the chime of the clock, the drift of piano music, she stirred. And she sighed.

Even before she turned from him, Trey knew she’d walk. He grabbed his pants from the foot of the bed, yanked them on as she got out of bed and started for the door.

“I’m coming,” she murmured.

As he followed her, the dogs woke.

“Quiet,” he told both of them. “Stay quiet.”

They trailed behind him out of the doorway, and down it, he saw Cleo step out of her door.

“It felt like I should get up,” she whispered. “I really wish Owen had come back with us.”

When Sonya passed her, Cleo fell into step with Trey.

“Is she out there? Dobbs? I didn’t take time to look.”

“Neither did I.”

At the end of the hall, Sonya looked toward the nursery, the weeping. “So sad,” she said. “So sorry.”

But rather than walk that way, Sonya turned toward the stairs.

For reassurance, Cleo reached for Trey’s hand. “Maybe it’s—the mirror’s—in a different room tonight.”

Trey nodded as they followed. “Maybe. But she knows where she needs to go. Not hurrying, but no hesitation either.”

Halfway down the stairs, the music changed from the lament of “Barbara Allen” to something lively, and to Trey unrecognizable.

“That’s new, the music change.”

“It’s happier,” Cleo decided. “Do you hear voices? I sort of do.”

“Like an echo. Distant. Singing?”

“I think so.”

At the base of the steps, Sonya turned to walk down the hall. She stopped at the door to the music room, then stepped just inside.

“The music, the voices—all still distant. But she hears something.”

“Sees something, too?” Cleo wondered. “Do you see anything? There’s not much light, just some backwash from the night-lights we plugged in, but I don’t think we should turn them on.”

“No. We won’t turn them on. And no, I don’t see anything but the music room.”

Sonya saw the music room, and to her eye it was brightly lit. Flowers painted on pale blue globes shined from the lamps gracing side tables, and the candles in a silver candelabra on the piano flickered.

Their glow illuminated the room as dark pressed against the windows.

She saw a trio of men in suits, and women—two of them young—in pretty dresses that swept toward their ankles.

She recognized Owen Poole as he looked on indulgently while the woman—his wife, second wife and mother of his children—played the piano. Behind her, Lisbeth, her dark hair wound in a braid around the crown of her head, sang a song about the seaside.

As it had once before, a different tableau, it all went still. The young man, Edward, Lisbeth’s fiancé, stopped with a glass halfway to his lips and a wide smile on his face.

Lisbeth’s mother sat, her hands still on the piano keys, her head tossed back in a laugh.

The hem of a blue dress stilled on a swirl as the young woman wearing it stopped in mid-turn.

The fire in the little hearth stopped crackling and remained frozen like one of the paintings on the wall.

In her pink frock with its flounced skirt, Lisbeth turned to Sonya.

“We were so gay that night! Mama played and played. I loved my Edward. Isn’t he handsome?”

“He’s very handsome.”

“We’d be married in just a few more weeks. My dress is a real dilly, too. Papa didn’t mind the cost one bit. Not for his little girl. Everyone’s coming. It’ll be an absolute crush.”

“I know.”

“You know,” Lisbeth agreed. “It hurt, when I died, and I was so afraid. I was sad, too. And for a while it made me even sadder that Edward moved on. He found someone else to love, and he got married, had a family. It made me so very sad. But then I loved him, so much. And I wouldn’t have wanted him to stop living, like I did.”

She smiled, simply beamed. “Though wouldn’t that be romantic? Tragic and romantic, like a novel! But I loved him too much for that. I never believed in curses. Such silliness, that’s what I thought. Now you have to stop her. You have to break the curse. Find the rings, Sonya.”

“How? Where?”

“Well, silly, I don’t know.” She looked over at Edward again, smiling with the glass partway to his lips. “I wish we’d had one night together. Even just one night.”

The tableau broke. The fire crackled in the hearth. Edward sipped from his glass, and the girl in the blue dress turned.

Behind her mother, Lisbeth sang.

“You and me, you and me, oh, how happy we’ll be!”

Then it all vanished in the dark.

Trembling, Sonya fumbled behind her for the light switch, then jolted when Yoda brushed against her leg. On a half turn, she saw Trey and Cleo.

“Did you see her, see them? Did you see?”

“No. Here.” Trey drew her against him. “You’re cold.”

“No, no, just… overwhelmed. I think I’m going to sit down a minute.” She turned again, walked unsteadily to a chair. “You didn’t see them? I was asleep, then I wasn’t, and I was here, and there were people, and music, and Lisbeth.”

“We heard music, and singing, but like it was far off.” Cleo squeezed her hand. “I’m going to get you some water.”

“No, I’m fine. Well, not fine, but okay. You didn’t see anything?”

“What did you see?” Trey asked.

“It was a little party. I recognized Owen—not our Owen, Lisbeth’s father, and her mother was playing the piano. Lisbeth was singing. She was wearing a pink dress and singing, ah… By the sea,” Sonya sang, “by the sea, by the beautiful sea. And Edward—her fiancé—was watching her and smiling. And one more couple, young like them, a girl in a blue dress, a man in a suit.”

As she stared at the piano, she stroked the head Mookie laid in her lap. Warm, real, she thought.

“Then it all stopped, froze. Just the way it did when I saw Astrid and that party in the parlor. Except for Lisbeth. She looked at me. She saw me. She spoke to me.”

“You talked to her.”

She looked up at Trey. “That wasn’t just in my head? You heard me?”

“Your side of the conversation.” Cleo sat on the arm of the chair, rubbed a hand on Sonya’s arm.

“She told me how happy they’d all been that night, though I could see it for myself.”

Sonya told them the rest.

“The room was different, but not much. Different paintings on the wall, and of course, the portraits weren’t there. But the Victrola we brought down? It was right there, just where we put it. I think it was new.”

“It wasn’t Dobbs,” Cleo said. “Not this time.”

“No. Not this time. They were so happy. It was like when I saw Astrid in the parlor. Just friends and family having fun, an evening together with music. She wanted me to see that.”

“And feel that,” Cleo added.

“I did. I did feel it.”

“There’s more of that in this house, that feeling,” Trey said, “that history, than what Dobbs brought into it. And that’s what you’re bringing back to it.”

“I know it. And though it’s way beyond strange, I’m glad I had the chance to see her, talk to her. They really loved each other, Lisbeth and Edward. It was young and sweet, but it was love.

“There’s a lot of that in this house, too. People who loved each other. I’d say I’m sorry I got you all up at three a.m., but it’s not the first time, and I don’t think it’ll be the last.”

Taking a breath, Sonya rose. “What do you say we all go back to bed?”

“I’m for it. You two can walk me to my room on your way. Well, you four since we have our canine escort.”

At the door, Trey took one last scan before he turned out the lights. All quiet, he decided. All settled. For now.

In the morning, he talked her into the shower, so her day started out in the best possible way.

Downstairs, the dogs—their morning ritual slightly delayed—dashed outside. By the time they’d dashed back in for breakfast, Sonya, absolutely content, sat down next to Trey with coffee and bowls of cereal.

“If you don’t count middle-of-the-night conversations with dead relatives, this feels so normal.”

Trey tapped his mug against hers. “It’s our normal.”

“You take it all so… well, just in stride.”

“I grew up in and around the manor, with the legends, the rumors, and with a couple of my own experiences. You’ve had a hell of a lot more to adjust to. And I don’t see a hitch in your stride, cutie.”

Oh, she’d had more than a few hitches, she thought.

“When I first moved in, it was easy to dismiss things, mostly little things, as old house, imagination, coincidence, whatever.”

He remembered how she’d looked that first day, standing there, the ground blanketed with snow, her hair dancing in the cold wind under her knit hat. He remembered the look of wonder and excitement on her face.

“It didn’t take you long to accept and deal.”

“Falling in love with the house, and I have to admit at first sight, factored into that. But… And I’ve never believed what I’m about to say. Do you think some of it comes through the blood? The Poole blood. I don’t know if I’ll ever really think of myself as a Poole. Born and raised, and happily, as a MacTavish, but.”

“But,” he agreed. “And I think your ancestry could play into it. Clearly, you and Owen—both Pooles—could see something in the mirror Cleo and I couldn’t. And could—Jesus, what a moment—walk into it. You saw and heard what you did last night. Cleo and I only barely got a hint of it.”

“But you both hear Dobbs when she goes on one of her fits, and you’ve seen her twice now. Once in the Gold Room—and that was another moment—and out on the seawall. Cleo saw her out there, too.”

“Dobbs wasn’t a Poole.”

Swallowing a spoonful of cereal, Sonya sat back. “She wasn’t a Poole. That’s so simple and logical, it went right by me. Counselor.”

“Simple, logical. It doesn’t explain why I’ve seen Clover twice, and you haven’t.”

“Oh, that just shows you’re not a girl.”

“Guilty as charged. But how does that apply?”

“Obviously, she’s soft on you, and has been.”

Suddenly, Trey’s phone rang out with the classic “Holding Out for a Hero.”

Raising her eyebrows knowingly, Sonya pointed at him. “I rest my case.”

“Who am I to argue with a hot babe? Make that two hot babes. Mookie and I have to get to the office. You’ll text if you need me?”

“Yes. I intend to have a very good, very productive day. You have one, too.”

He rose. “Any day that starts out with shower sex is already good and productive.”

“I can’t argue with that,” she said, and kissed him. “Bye, Mookie. Be a good boy and a wise legal consultant.”

Alone, Sonya dealt with the breakfast dishes as she imagined the ever-vigilant Molly had already made the bed.

“Come on, Yoda, let’s go to work.”

Upstairs, she started with checks of her texts and emails. Though it tempted her to dive right into the Ryder proposal, she ordered herself to work on current clients. She could end the day with the big potential.

She’d barely begun when she saw Cleo.

“A little early for you.”

“When you’re up, you’re up. I’m going to pull myself together and hit the market. I’m hoping to score some andouille sausage because Grand-Mère claims it makes all the difference.”

“Listen to you.” Not a little amazed, Sonya sat back. “I’m not sure I knew there were types of sausage. What’s andouille?”

“Spicy,” Cleo said, with relish. Then frowned, cocked her head. “You had morning sex.”

“How could you know that?” Astonished, Sonya threw up her hands. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Because I can see you’re relaxed in a way I envy. I really miss morning sex. And afternoon sex, and bedtime sex. And now, damn it, I’m thinking about sex I’m not having. I’m going for coffee.”

“It was morning shower sex!” Sonya called out.

“Damn you, Sonya!”

Laughing, Sonya went back to work.

Less than an hour later, Cleo, in spring-weight khakis, a lavender cashmere sweater, stopped at the doorway.

“I’m off. Did you think of anything you want me to pick up?”

“No.” But the glory of her friend’s hair had her vowing to call the salon at her first break. “I have a consultant call in about thirty, so if I don’t answer when you come back, I’m still on it. And I bet you come back with a cat, so I’m timing my break for then so I can cuddle her.”

“I’m just going to look.”

“Uh-huh. See you and Miss Kitty Cat later.”

As it had before, the barrage began before Cleo could have turned down Manor Road.

The iPad roared out with Springsteen’s “No Surrender.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

When Yoda tried to crawl into her lap, Sonya picked him up, stroked him as her pocket doors slammed closed, slammed open, then closed again. Wind, bitter and cold, lashed through the room and plucked a few books off their shelves. Under her feet, the floor seemed to lift and fall.

On the second floor of the library, the wall screen screamed on with the sound of bullets blazing.

Sonya’s heart hammered in her throat; Yoda trembled in her arms. But she stayed where she was.

“Keep it up, bitch. You don’t impress me.”

Fog crawled into the room. Feeling the ice flow from it, Sonya lifted her feet, crossed her legs under her before it slithered under her desk.

She watched her own breath expel in clouds as the cold dug into her bones.

“We’re staying right here.” She shouted it, but nearly reached for the phone to call Trey when she heard the main doors crash open.

Then it stopped, it all stopped.

She heard her own tattered breathing as the silence fell, and the air warmed again.

“We’re okay.” As he shook, she hugged Yoda against her, stroked his soft, brindled fur. “We’re okay.”

When Christina Aguilera’s “Fighter” filled the room, Sonya let out one long breath. “Yeah, I’m learning to be one.”

She made herself get up, replace the books. When she went out, looked down, she saw the main doors stood closed.

But she could feel the remnants of cold still sneaking down from the third floor.

“Nice try. Keep wasting your energy, bitch.”

She checked the time and decided she had enough of it to spare. Though he’d stopped trembling, she carried Yoda downstairs.

She let him take a run outside, in the sun, and while he did, girded her loins and made an appointment at the salon.

“More courage,” she congratulated herself.

She rewarded herself with a Coke, and got a rawhide bone for Yoda before she called him back in.

Then she went back upstairs, settled him, settled herself. And waited for her consult to begin.

Cleo came back with groceries. And a cat.

Since Yoda had already raced down at the sound of the door, Sonya followed. Halfway there, she saw Cleo, a bag of groceries in one hand, a young, sleek black cat in the other.

“I knew it!” Sonya jogged the rest of the way down. “Oh, Yoda, don’t disappoint me,” she said when he put his front paws on Cleo’s legs to sniff at the newcomer.

Who, Sonya noted, looked at him regally from her superior height.

“She’s just six months old. She’s already been spayed, so I don’t have to go through that. Lucy said she’s fine with other animals and kids. And hell, Son, her eyes did it. Look at them! I’ve gotta say, they’re Poole green. It was meant.”

“Well, she’s beautiful.” Gently, Sonya stroked the soft, pure black fur. “And why am I not surprised you have a black cat? What’s her name?”

“She’s Pyewacket. She’s Pye.”

“Like the math thing?”

“Not pi, P-y-e. Pyewacket. It’s from an old movie, one of my mama’s favorites. Bell, Book and Candle , about witches. We’ll watch it sometime.”

“We’ll watch a movie about witches in this house?”

“Fun, interesting witches, with a romance. Anyway, Kim Novak’s cat is Pyewacket. Her familiar.”

“Okay then, welcome to Lost Bride Manor, Pye.”

“Lucy’s just wonderful,” Cleo gushed as she snuggled the cat. “She gave me most everything Pye needs, and I stopped back into the store for a few more things.”

“I’ll go get them.”

“There’s more groceries, too, but I don’t want to leave her alone in the house just yet.”

“I’ll get everything. It’s break time anyway. I got the job.”

“The other law firm job? Woo, Son!”

“And Dobbs had a big tantrum. I’ll tell you about it when we put the groceries away.” She ran out.

“I don’t like when she goes after Sonya and I’m not here. We’ve got ourselves a witch, Pye, a mean-ass ghost. And more. You’ll get used to it.”

Cleo looked down at the dog, who danced in place, tail swinging.

“I’m going to put you down to get acquainted with Yoda. You both better make friends.”

She set Pye down, then crossed her fingers. Yoda wagged, whined, sniffed. The cat turned this way and that as if waiting for the dog to scratch an itch.

Then she stretched herself under his jaw as if to take care of it herself before slinking off toward the parlor to, Cleo assumed, begin exploring her domain.

“Isn’t she perfect?” Cleo said. She turned as Sonya came in, arms loaded. “And they got along fine. Here, let me take some of that. Just leave the welcome basket and so on here. I’ll start on the groceries. I’m going to put her litter box in the mudroom if that’s okay.”

“That should be the place for it.”

“But I’m going to teach her to go out with Yoda.”

At the door, ready to go out for the rest, Sonya paused. “You’re going to housebreak a cat?”

“I’m going to housebreak this cat. The litter box will be for emergencies only when I’m done. Come on, Yoda, let’s see if she follows.”

Pye followed, in her own time, and in her perfectly slinky way.

When Sonya came in, Cleo grinned. “I’m going to put her food and water bowls with Yoda’s so they learn to eat together. That’s the first stage of learning to poop together.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. I ordered a cat tree. I’ve been looking at them online, and went with Lucy’s pick, which actually looks like a tree. It can go up in the studio. And I ordered the cutest little bed. It’s like a little pink cave.”

“Pink.”

“She’s a girl. Now, tell me everything.”

“I’ll start with the good stuff. The law firm wants something like what I did for the Doyles. Updated, photos, bios. It’s not a family firm, but I can work the same type of feel, just a bit more formal. They’ve already sent back the contract. I owe Deuce for the speed there. They were already sold.”

“You did the work that sold them,” Cleo reminded her, “but we’ll give Deuce a big hug.”

“They know Corrine, and liked her work so much on the photos, they’re going to contact her, hire her if she’s available to do theirs. So I know going in I’ll have excellent shots to work with.

“Is this that sausage you wanted?”

“Yes. Score! Now if I can make it half as good as my grand-mère. Tell me about Dobbs.”

“Like that other time, you were barely on the road when she started.”

“She thinks divide and conquer, but that’s bullshit.” Cleo’s tiger eyes flicked upward. “There’s no dividing here. What did she do?”

Sonya started at the beginning as they finished putting away groceries, set out Pyewacket’s food and water. And Cleo put the litter box in the mudroom, where Sonya believed it would become a house staple.

“I hate you were alone through all that.”

“I think it’s good, actually. It proved—to her and to myself—I can handle what she tosses out.

“And while I nearly called Trey, I feel incredibly satisfied I got through it on my own.”

“No shame calling him, or me. You remember that.”

“I will,” Sonya promised. “When I need to. But now I’ve got work, especially if I want to carve out a little time for the Ryder presentation. What time for cooking? I want to give you a hand.”

“After Owen checks out the painting and I see his design for my boat.”

“Sounds good.”

“You go on. I’m going to walk out with Yoda and Pye, get them started on that part of her training.”

Surprised, Sonya glanced down at the sleek little cat. “You’re going to let her outside?”

Cleo answered dryly, “Outside’s an essential aspect of housebreaking, Son.”

“Aren’t you worried she’ll take off?”

“Lucy said she’d been in their yard. It’s fenced, but she could climb it. She knows when she’s got it good. And around here, she’ll have it more than good.”

“All right then.” Sonya gave the cat another dubious glance, but went back to work.

When she heard Cleo coming up the stairs, cooing to the cat, she relaxed.

“She peed!”

Amused, Sonya gave her friend a thumbs-up.

Yoda didn’t prance up the stairs, but in a few minutes, Sonya heard the bounce of the ball and his running feet.

She thought: All’s well in the manor.