Inheritance (The Lost Bride Trilogy, #1)(135)

“I vote the next time we follow up with the sequel. Collin’s got the full set of DVDs.”

“Let’s go, boys.” Cleo grabbed a jacket from the mudroom, then stuck her head back in the kitchen. In her best Schwarzenegger, she said, “I’ll be back.”

It was fun. Fun, Sonya thought, to settle down in big, cushy chairs with popcorn. Yes, the bell rang—or more accurately banged—as they did just that. She liked to think ignoring it as the ominous opening music filled the room was a middle finger raised in Hester Dobbs’s direction.

About the time Kyle Reese told Sarah Connor to come with him if she wanted to live, the lights flicked on and off like a strobe.

“She doesn’t like it that we’re having a good time,” Cleo observed.

No, no, Sonya agreed, she really didn’t. When the lights stopped flashing, the banging started. It echoed through the room as the walls shook, and her heart beat hard in her throat.

“It’s pissing her off,” Trey murmured. He took Sonya’s hand. “Just the fact we’re sitting here like this.”

Restless, the dogs huddled near the chairs.

When the doors flew open, their hackles rose on a series of warning barks. They slammed shut again with a crack like a gunshot.

“Just give it a minute.” Trey spoke quietly as Sonya started to rise. “Let it play out.”

Framed posters fell off the walls. Beneath her feet, she felt the floorboards quake. The booming reached a pitch where she wanted to press her hands to her ears and scream for it to stop. Just stop.

As she neared her own breaking point, it did. Just stop.

She realized she gripped Trey’s hand on one side, Cleo’s on the other. Cleo’s trembled in hers; Trey’s was rock steady. And for whatever reason, both helped ground her.

On-screen, the heroes ran from the machine whose only purpose was to kill.

Like her hand, Cleo’s voice trembled. “I guess that’s all she had for tonight.”

Maybe, Sonya thought. Maybe. But like the terminator, she’d be back.

It made a point, though, she decided, that they finished the movie. And rehung the posters. They dealt with popcorn bowls, let the dogs out. All the normal, ordinary things people did in normal, ordinary lives.

Cleo went up first. After they brought the dogs in for the night, she and Trey followed.

“You said you’ve watched movies down there before.”

“Yeah. And no, nothing like that. I’m finding it hard to believe she didn’t hassle Collin, at least off and on, but he never said much about it.”

“I think it’s me. She was done with Collin, wasn’t she? If she managed to find a way to kill Johanna, get her ring, he didn’t really matter. I’d be next in line. Or Owen, any of the Poole cousins if he’d left the house to them.”

“You’re not a bride.”

“No, and maybe that’s why she doesn’t like me being here. On the other hand,” she said as they walked the long hallway, “we know of at least two others—Molly and Jack. No, three, with the cigar smoking man. Non-brides, and still here. There are probably more.”

“A house this old? It’s held a lot of life, and death. I’ve spent a great deal of time here, and sure, there have been things—I told you about a couple—but nothing like that show tonight, or in the basement, in the Gold Room.”

“And what’s changed?” As they walked into her room, Sonya turned to him. “I’m here. Living here, working here, determined to stay here. I’m not what she wants.”

“Maybe not, but I think it’s more than that. You’re what the others want, and need.”

“To find the rings.”

“That’s the recurring theme. Find them, break the curse, get rid of Dobbs. And no more dead brides.”

“But when I’ve seen her—on the other side of the mirror—she’s wearing them.”

“All seven?”

“No.” She paused to consider. “So far, I’ve seen them in order. Astrid, Catherine, Marianne, Agatha. Four rings total, so far. Do you think something could change when I see her with all seven?”

“I wish I knew.” He ran his hands down her arms, then back to her shoulders. “I wish there was more I could do to help get you through this.”

“You’ve helped a lot.” She leaned into him. “Like this helps. It’s nice to know that when I really need it, I’ve got somebody to lean on.”

“Anytime.”

“You kept me from jumping up and screaming during the movie.”

“Why give her the satisfaction?”

“That’s exactly right, but I was close to giving her plenty of it.” Tipping back her head, she rose on her toes enough to meet his mouth with hers. “Now I’d rather give you plenty of it.”

“How about some give and take?”

When he ran his hands under her sweater, up her back, she boosted up to lock her legs around his waist. “You have the best ideas.”

Tonight, she wanted the heat and the movement, the fun of being able to give and to take. His hands on her body, his lips on her skin, lingering, lingering until everything in her ached and burned.

For more. Still more.

All hunger and greed, she rolled with him, urging him to take more, still more, even as she did.