“She enjoyed writing at the end of the day,” he began. “It helped her unwind even if she was tired of smiling and pretending to be happy.” He tilted his head. “She seemed mostly happy. There was a lover, or someone she was fond of but could never talk about. She was sad when he left. But she had to keep up the illusion that everything was all right even if she was worried about money.” Caspian offered her the diary back. “From what I’ve picked up she was an amazing woman. You were lucky to have someone like that in your life.”
“Thank you.” That he could appreciate Gran’s life and look beyond the scandal meant a lot. She took the diary back, but she wasn’t sure she believed him about the psychometry. He could’ve made that stuff up. But he didn’t know what year the diary was from and there was no way he could know about the mysterious singer— unless he was just guessing because of the picture. Maybe she should ask him something about something else. She bit her lip and her gaze landed on the old love seat.
Caspian shook his head. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
“How do you live with it? Do you see the history of everything?”
“I can block out a lot of it, now. It used to cause me a lot of problems.”
“I can imagine.” There’d be a lot of things he wouldn’t want to see. “You probably know Callaway House much better than me.”
“I doubt that. I saw bits of the past, that’s all.”
“And they didn’t affect you at all?”
He gave her a rueful smile. “I never said that. Many of the things I see affect me. I’ve seen some awful things. I’ve seen murders I can’t report or that happened a hundred years ago. They are no less real than if they were happening in front of me. Things with strong emotions last longer than the day-to-day grind. I nearly turned down this job because I was worried about seeing too much.” He put his hand over hers. “I’m glad I didn’t.”
She turned her hand over and wrapped her fingers around his, the heat of his skin seeping into her and warming her. She searched his face, but his expression was carefully neutral as if he was expecting the realization to slowly sink in and for her to pull away. She wasn’t quite sure what to say, only that she needed to say something. “I’m glad you didn’t, too.”
Her body tingled at the memory. Did he know what she was thinking? Would she be forever wondering what he was seeing? There’d be no privacy, ever. He’d know if she’d shaved her legs in the shower. However, he’d told her, so she could make that decision. It was up to her what happened next.
“So now that you know I’m weird, I’ll go back upstairs and leave you to get back to reading.” He went to get up but she kept hold of his hand.
He glanced at her, his eyebrows pinched together and his lips parted as if he were going to speak.
She couldn’t let him just walk away. After everything he’d seen he’d been nothing but polite. There was no smug glee or crude comments. Men like Caspian didn’t come along very often. There were worse things than being psychometric, right? And he’d found a use for the talent. She was going to have to look it up and find out more. Or trust him. She looked into his eyes. Once she’d thought he was hiding behind them, now she knew he saw everything, more than anyone should. He was protecting himself… and his heart.
And she wouldn’t be the one to break it. “I don’t think you’re weird and I don’t regret what happened.” She leaned over and kissed him, and what was meant to be a simple kiss deepened quickly as if the lust in her blood wasn’t yet sated.
His fingers brushed her cheek. “Neither do I. Are you coming back to bed?”
“I’ll be up in a minute.” She let his fingers slide free and watched him walk out of the parlor. She knew in that heartbeat she couldn’t let him walk out of her life, no matter what he could see.
Chapter 11
“Psst. Wake up.”
Someone pinched his face. Caspian opened one eye and saw Dylis standing on his pillow. He blinked a couple of times to pull himself out of the strange dreams of other people’s lives and orientate himself in the strange room. He opened his mouth, but Dylis placed her finger to her lips and pointed at Lydia.
Lydia was sleeping with her back to him. It would be much nicer to ignore the fairy and move closer to Lydia and drift back to sleep. He closed his eyes and Dylis tapped his cheek.
Then her voice was in his ear. “Get up. We have a problem.”
The last remnants of sleep slid away. This wasn’t her being annoyed because they didn’t go home. This was something else. Icy panic got his blood pumping and he slid out of bed. He wasn’t stupid. He knew when Dylis meant business.
He pulled on his jeans and slipped on his shirt against the cool morning before padding quietly out of the bedroom and closing the door.
He didn’t speak to Dylis until they reached the bottom of the stairs. She stood on the bannister and waited.
“What is it?” he whispered. Maybe this would be a short conversation and he could go back to bed, but instinct told him otherwise. The hair down the back of his neck prickled and he almost tasted the fairy magic in the air.
“Come with me.”
Dylis led him to the kitchen and pointed out a window.
“What the hell?” he muttered.
Across the lawn, crammed into every inch of space, were mirrors. Hundreds of them.
“It’s Shea,” Dylis said. “He’s trying to force you to find the Window.”
He glared at Dylis. “Thank you. I’d worked that out.” He’d also worked out that Shea knew where he was— and that left Lydia vulnerable. Everywhere he turned Shea was reminding him that he couldn’t escape. He was running out of options far quicker than he liked. He gritted his teeth and stared outside. He shouldn’t have stayed here. That wouldn’t have mattered; the Greys had followed him and tried to make trouble last night. It was only a matter of time until Shea involved Lydia. “Dammit.”
“You knew he’d push.”
“I didn’t expect him to push this hard.” This was hardly in the same category as unraveling clothes and filling his car with bees. He needed to gain the upper hand somehow. “Do you have the Counter-Window yet?”
Her tiny tongue traced her lip. She was about to tell him something he really wasn’t going to like. What could be worse than hundreds of mirrors in Lydia’s yard? “Does Shea have it?”
“No. I know where the Counter-Window is, but I don’t have it yet. It’s being acquired for me.”
“Meaning?”
“Your father will have it very soon.”
That wasn’t too bad. “Do you think Shea suspects the Window is here?”
Dylis shook her head. “We can’t even find it.”
True, and he and Dylis had tried yesterday evening. While he’d worked, she’d poked around in boxes, the stable, and cabins between trying to get rid of the troublesome Greys. She’d brought him a couple of mirrors but they were nothing special. He was beginning to doubt it was here. “Maybe it was once, but it’s moved on.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t go there. If it’s moved on, we’ve got nothing to go on.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. If the mirror had moved on it could be anywhere in the world. “I need the—”
“I know.”
“So all I can do is ignore Shea and hope everything will fall into place.” And get rid of all the mirrors before Lydia woke up and looked out of a window and asked what was going on.
“About that. Have you noticed something about those mirrors?”
Caspian walked up to the window and actually looked at them. They were all antique. He moved to another window, and around the house until he’d seen as much as he could without going outside. Every one of them was
