Beauty In Her Madness (Winterland Tale #3) - Stacey Marie Brown Page 0,18
head snapped to me. “Mythical?”
“No one knows who he is. I’m your sister; shouldn’t I get the inside scoop? Remember, I have some serious blackmail on you…like the time you snuck out to Jimmy Finkle’s party and came back so drunk you threw up in the potted plant and blamed it on the dog.”
“You promised to take what happened to the grave.” She glowered at me.
Being eight years younger than Alice, I got to watch her teenage debauchery while I was still playing with toys. We were close now, but as kids, the age gap was worlds away. I spent a lot of time by myself playing make-believe while she was off with friends shopping at malls and flirting with boys.
“I also remember finding Harrison Brooks hiding in your closet with no pants…and the time you threw a party when our parents were gone for a weekend. Didn’t Mom’s priceless vase get broken?”
Her mouth pinched together, glaring at me. “Guess someone doesn’t want fresh-from-the-oven chocolate, hazelnut, and caramel tarts.”
“I was totally kidding. To the grave.” I crossed my heart and held up my hand in surrender. Those tarts were to die for…one of my favorites.
“Thought so.” She closed the box, handing it to me.
“Damn, you are cruel. Playing dirty there.”
“That’s what siblings are good for.” She walked with me to the door, her teasing dropping away, a serious tone taking its place. “I’m here, Dinah. Always. If you need to talk.”
“Thank you.” I hugged her. “I’m just being weird. Probably need a vacation.”
“Vacation? You?” Her eyebrow curved up. “Now I know something is up.”
I wrapped my scarf around my neck, pulling my heavy jacket back on. I could feel her eyes on me, peeling at the layers I was trying to keep up.
“Come back before Christmas so we can spend the day in the city together.” She fluffed my hair. “Just you and I.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Sounds good.”
“I love you.” She gave me another hug.
“Love you too.” I squeezed back before heading for the door, my bag tossed over my shoulder, full of goodies, similar to Santa Claus. Scott was going to think it was Christmas morning.
“Dinah?” She called my name as I was stepping out the door, turning me back to her. “Are you remembering?”
“What?” My forehead wrinkled under my beanie.
“Nothing.” She wagged her head. “Have a safe trip home.”
I dipped my head, still perplexed at her question. I stepped out into the early evening air, darkness already consuming the sky, letting the Christmas lights cause the sidewalks to glow in warmth.
Waving to Alice, I started down the street, heading back to the train station. Sucking in the cold air to the point it hurt, I let my shoulders relax. That was all I needed. A little time with my sister. I was overreacting and letting my imagination get away from me.
I burrowed into my jacket, turning down a quieter neighborhood street, heading to the metro to Penn station, feeling lighter. Halfway down the block, a prickling snapped at my easy mood, a wisp of wind blowing up my hair.
“Dinah.” My name clawed up the back of my neck, whipping me around. The voice was feminine and raspy.
My heart slammed into my chest. My eyes searched around, seeing nothing. You were never alone in New York, but of course, not a single person was on the street right now, leaving an even more spooky sensation tingling my skin. I twisted back around, my feet rushing me down the street, feeling eyes on me.
“It’s time, Dinah.” The woman’s voice grew stronger, nipping at the back of my ear. A cry pelted out of my mouth, and I whirled to fight off the person, but nothing was behind me.
“Stop fighting it, Dinah.”
“Stop!” I screamed into the void. “Who are you? Why are you bothering me? Leave me alone!”
Silence.
My head snapped around. I felt like I was in some horror movie and was about to be killed. I stepped backward, my eyes still searching, about ready to turn around and bolt.
Seeing movement by a tree across the street, my body and breath stilled. The outline took a step around the shadows, clinging to it like a security blanket. A streetlamp shone eerily down on the figure, but all I could make out was cruel blue eyes staring back at me. Gray-blue, the color of an impending storm, familiar, but terrifying, sending a chill up my spine.
“She is calling to you,” the voice carried over the wind.