And you refuse to help me. The unspoken rebuke was in his eyes when he glanced at her. Maddie bit her lip and looked away, watching the snow continue its dance past her window. Maybe she was going mad. She was beginning to feel sorry for a ghost.
"Why would you be able to reach a complete stranger and not anyone of real use to you?"
"I don't know."
But the look he gave her was keen, as if he did know but didn't believe she'd understand.
"If you want my help, you at least owe it to me to be honest."
"Fair enough." He turned his back to the fire, but kept his hands behind him, as if still trying to warm them. "Whatever this force is, it brings with it a sense of danger. And it's connected with you somehow." He seemed to say an awful lot without actually saying anything, Maddie noted. Maybe her ghost had been a politician in a former life.
"That made everything so much clearer," she said dryly. He shot her a look that was half amusement, half frustration. "Someone close to you is in danger, and somehow, they're drawing me to you." Besides her sister, the only other person who qualified as being close was Jayne's son, Evan. Neither of them had the sort of power Jon was talking about. No, she thought grimly, there was only one misfit left in their small family unit.
"So how did you end up in the well?"
"Someone shot me when I was out exploring." He shrugged. "I must have fallen into it."
Maddie raised an eyebrow. From what she could see of him, there was remarkably little evidence of a bullet wound. "Then you are dead." He sighed and closed his eyes. "I was hit in the arm. The fall could have killed me, but I was.. .lucky."
The arm closest to her was a suntanned brown, well-muscled and remarkably free of wounds. His hands were still firmly clasped together, which surely wouldn't be possible if the other arm had a hole blown in it. Maybe it was her ghost who was mad, not she.
"Why don't you just shout for help?"
"As I explained before, I can't take the risk. Someone is out to get me. If they think I'm still alive, they'll just find me and finish the job." A chill ran through her. "It could have been an accident."
"No."
She closed her eyes at the soft certainty in his voice. "If I come to help you, my life could be in danger."
"How would they know you're there to help me? You'd just be another tourist passing by."
The sudden weariness in his voice made her look at him. His form had faded slightly, merging with the night. Something was wrong, something more than the fact he'd been shot. And she sensed he wouldn't tell her what. "Who do you mean by they? "
"I'm not exactly sure. But someone in this town knew why I was here, and they moved pretty swiftly to get rid of me."
"Then tell mewhat town you're in, and why you're there." If he was going to continue haunting her, she should at least try to understand a little more about him.
He stared at her, then shook his head. "How many times do I have to repeat myself before you believe in me?"
His voice held an edge of desperation that made her wince. Yet last night she'd been too busy trying to convince herself he was nothing more than a vivid dream to really listen to anything he said. "You mentioned some town—Sherbrook, wasn't it?"
He closed his eyes for a moment, as if battling to remain calm. "Sherbrook is the name of the inn. The place is Taurin Bay."
An odd sense of foreboding ran through her. Evan had attended a school camp in Taurin Bay not so long ago. Jayne had gone along as cook and chief potwasher. "That force you said was driving you to me—was it male or female?"
"Male." He paused, eyes narrowing. "Why?" Evan—something told her it was Evan. Maddie licked her lips and wondered if she should call her sister—or was she just worrying over nothing again?
"Maddie, what's wrong?"
She stared at him blankly for a moment. "My sister has a thirteen year old son called Evan. Both of them were in Taurin Bay last month."
"Damn!" Jon ran a hand through his hair, then abruptly walked forward, stopping only when his knees touched the side of her bed.
He was close, so close. She could see the rise and fall of his chest, felt the whisper of his breath wash across her skin. Could smell him, a faint scent of cologne mixed with hints of earth and sweat. But he wasn't real, damn it!
"In the last eight months, sixteen teenagers have been taken from their homes and haven't been seen alive again. In each case, no locks or windows were disturbed. And each time, the teenager was taken on the next full moon after their families returned from Taurin Bay."
Her heart leapt. She raised a hand to her throat and tried to remain calm.