a time, then stood shivering on the front porch. For a moment, she chewed on her lower lip, debating the wisdom of going inside, but another drumbeat of thunder decided for her. The door was locked, but one of the panes of glass was broken, making it easy to reach inside and unlock the door. The thought that she was committing a crime fluttered in the back of her mind. Breaking and entering. But she wasn't breaking, she rationalized, since the glass was already broken, just entering.
Thoughts of drug dealers and other disreputable characters filled her mind as she opened the door. She could hear the blood pounding in her ears as she crossed the threshold.
Closing the door behind her, Lainey stood in the entryway, listening. The sound of her footsteps echoed loudly as she crossed the black-and-white tiled floor to the parlor.
Knowing it was useless, she flicked the light switch inside the arched doorway. Nothing. In the rapidly waning daylight, she could see a high-backed sofa and a couple of chairs crouched before a massive stone fireplace. Sheets that had once been white, but were now threadbare with age and thick with dust, covered the furniture. To her fanciful mind, the furniture looked like beasts of prey ready to pounce on unwary strangers.
Standing with her arms folded over her chest, she stared at the fireplace, wishing she had the means to start a fire. She felt a warm breeze caress her cheek, and the next thing she knew, there was a fire crackling in the raised hearth.
Lainey blinked at the flames, certain she was imagining things.
But there was nothing make-believe about the heat radiating from the fireplace. She stood there for a long moment, wondering if the shivers running up and down her spine were caused by the fire's seemingly magical appearance, or her growing apprehension. For a moment, she considered going back outside to sit in the car, but the warmth of the fire was irresistible.
Slipping out of her wet jacket, she spread it over the back of a chair to dry, then stood in front of the fire, toasting first her front and then her back.
The warmth of the fire made her drowsy. Removing the sheet from one of the chairs, she shook off the dust, then sat down, the sheet spread across her lap, and stared at the dancing flames.
How odd, she thought. Here she was, sitting in the dark in front of a fire that had started as if by magic, and she wasn't the least bit afraid.
Listening to the sound of the rain as it splashed against the windows, she had the strangest feeling that she wasn't alone, that there was an unseen entity hovering nearby, watching her every move through curious, unblinking eyes. But even that didn't shatter the peculiar sense of well-being that was slowly engulfing her, wrapping her in a cocoon of contentment.
Perhaps the placewas haunted, she mused. But it didn't feel haunted. Enchanted, then. That would explain her sudden lethargy. But even the thought of falling under some mystical spell lacked the power to frighten her as she drew the sheet up to her chin and closed her eyes.
Part One Chapter Two
Lainey came awake with a start. For a moment, she couldn't remember where she was, and then she sighed. She was inside the Grayson mansion. She sat there for a moment, listening to the sound of the rain as she glanced around the room.
In daylight, she could see that the parlor had once been elegant. The draperies at the window, now faded and frayed, were of dark red velvet. The floor was of solid oak, dulled by years of dust and neglect. The chair she was sitting on was upholstered in a dark red, green, and gold print, as was the other chair and the high-backed sofa. She guessed the walls had once been a creamy white, but time had dulled the color. An enormous lacy cobweb hung from one corner of the vaulted ceiling.
Rising, she pulled on her jacket, surprised that the fire was still burning. Perhaps it was a gas log, she mused as she tossed the sheet over the chair. But surely, if there was no electricity, there was no gas. And even if the gas was on, it still didn't explain who, or what, had lit the fire the night before.
She combed her fingers through her hair, wished fleetingly for a toothbrush and a glass of orange juice, and then began to explore the rest