Always Look Twice by Sheri WhiteFeather

Author:Sheri WhiteFeather [WhiteFeather, Sheri]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Suspense
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2005-06-28T05:00:00+00:00

Olivia arrived at Derek Moon’s mansion, and the gate was open, the guard tower empty. The Tudor-style house with its charming windows and lush green lawn greeted her with a maniacal leer.

She parked in the circular driveway and told herself the distorted building was an illusion, a trick Derek had conjured.

Things weren’t always what they seemed.

She knocked on the door, and when the wood rippled, like water in a blood-dappled stream, she cursed beneath her breath.

Then rubbed the chills that raced up her arm.

No one answered. No one appeared. The house was vacant. She could feel the hollow energy.

A crow cawed in the distance, taunting her with a screeching sound. She glanced up at a second-story window, saw the curtain move.

The house wasn’t empty. Not completely.

She tried the doorknob, turned it, heard the hinges squeak. The crow cawed again. Olivia didn’t know what the bird was trying to say. In the old days, the Chiricahua feared the black-winged animals. Yet the appearance of a crow before a hunt was a favorable omen.

Was this a hunt?

She looked up at the window again. The curtain had stopped moving.

Olivia kept turning the doorknob. It spun in a circle, like the little girl’s head in the Exorcist.

Did Derek Moon worship the devil?

No, she thought. This was just part of his game, his theatrics. Irritated, she turned the handle one more time.

The door flew open.

Olivia entered the house, her shoes echoing on marble tiles. Orange candles flickered from every table, from every corner, flames dancing in jest.

Derek had prepared his home just for her.

She glanced around, wondering where the hell he was. She wandered into the dining room and stood in front of the satyr. Refusing to be intimidated, she stared at the jeering beast.

It stared back at her.

The candles smelled like caramel. Sweet and syrupy.

Orgasmic.

Olivia wanted to go home and make love with West. The real West, the flesh-and-blood man. She wanted to prove that she was more powerful than Derek’s spell.

But you’re not, a voice whispered in her head.

“Yes, I am,” she said out loud.

She closed her eyes, tried to get a reading on Derek, to locate him in her mind.

But she saw her dead mother instead.

A quick flash, a familiar image. The red-stained sheet, the heart, the arrowhead. Yvonne’s motionless body, her beautiful face.

Things aren’t always what they seemed.

“I didn’t kill her.”

Olivia spun around. Derek stood behind her, dressed in a long black robe. Around his neck he wore Allie’s charm, the wolf claw, the silver beads.

“You bastard.” She reached for the necklace and tore it off him. The leather thong broke, spilling the beads. They rolled across the floor like tiny marbles.

A second later, they disappeared.

It wasn’t Allie’s charm, she realized. It was another trick. Another illusion.

Tired of his game, she lunged for his throat and shoved him against the wall, pushing her thumb into his windpipe.

He gasped, his eyes bulging wide.

But Olivia couldn’t hold him for long. Something slammed into her, hard and fast and sharp. She fell forward, against Derek, and they both hit the floor.

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