Beware The Kiss Part 8

"But, but I thought I'd never see you - again." Tayler looked away. Fear magnified her exhaustion.

"I'm sorry you thought that. My biggest concern tonight was getting Maria out. I also had to retrieve something I'd left in the house."

"Something so important that you'd risk your life?"

"Yes, but we all survived." Erica watched Tayler get into bed. She walked to the door and turned. A smile graced her lips. "By the way, I'm still not convinced."

"Convinced about what? The lightning?" Tayler c.o.c.ked her head.

"You realize that the media is going to have a field day with the fire tonight. Therefore, this architect is still not convinced that the media isn't bad and that writers aren't monsters."

"I must be losing my touch," Tayler raised her hands in front of her. She looked back at Erica. "How about another chance?"

"We'll see." A phone rang somewhere. "Sleep well, Tayler. If you need anything, I'm just across the hall."

To Tayler's disappointment, Erica slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her.

It was four-thirty in the morning when a shadow moved toward Tayler's bed. Once beside it, the figure stood and watched the sleeping woman. The sheets were shoved to the side and the comforter lay on the floor.

Tayler tossed and turned, mumbling inaudible words and whimpering softly. In the light from the hall she looked like a child - a child running away from a terrible, deadly monster.

"I know who wants you dead," Erica whispered.

In the dim light Tayler turned over and Erica could see the scar on Tayler's neck. Erica bent down to get a closer look. She wanted to touch Tayler's soft, blond hair with her fingertips and kiss her lips but something stopped her.

From her memory came the words on the yellowed paper.

"A crown of Light, a sea of Bluett Lightning mark, a darker Hue; A brush of Air, lips of Fire -A fragile heart, flame Desire."

Eight.

The next morning, Tayler was sitting at the breakfast table when Erica came through the back door into the kitchen. She was dressed in a pair of tight-fitting, black jeans and a hunter green, twill shirt. Her hands were covered in large garden gloves and her boots were caked with mud. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

"Out for a morning stroll?" Tayler asked, amused by Erica's outdoor image.

"Good morning. I didn't think you'd be up yet." Erica sat down at the table, took off her gloves, removed the clip in her hair and shook her head. Her wavy black hair fell over her shoulders in smooth ripples. "You know the old saying."

"Which one?" Tayler took a sip from her coffee mug.

"Late to bed, late to rise makes you sluggish and despised."

Tayler grimaced. "Great. It's just my luck to be having breakfast with a poet."

Erica poured herself a cup of coffee and bit into a lemon poppy seed m.u.f.fin. The strange expression on Erica's face unnerved Tayler.

"What on earth are you up to?"

With a strained grin, Erica walked to the door, stepped outside, and came back in with a black charred can.

"If you're looking for a donation, I gave at the office," Tayler folded her hands together.

Erica smiled, not accustomed to this lightheartedness in the morning. "I found this about a hundred yards from the house." She placed it on the counter. "It used to be a five gallon can of gasoline."

Tayler's eyes widened. Dread and apprehension pounded on her chest. "So it wasn't lightning after all."

"I'm on my way to call Steffan. I get the feeling he won't be surprised when he hears about this," she waited for Tayler to say something, but when she didn't, Erica added, "I'm running out of time."

"What?" Tayler's knuckles turned white. "What do you mean you're running out of time?"

Erica ran her hand through her hair. The words were forced. "We're not dealing with a novice here. Whoever wants to see you dead is getting impatient. I'm convinced there will be another attempt."

"Those aren't comforting words." Tayler said in a hushed voice. Her sleep had been wracked by nightmares and when she awoke denial had set in. She desperately tried to convince herself that it was all coincidence. "I can't believe a woman would do this." Tayler said trying to make sense out of the sudden chaos in her life. Within twelve hours, the death threat had taken on a very real and dangerous meaning. A gift of Black, to kill the Fool, she searched her memory, but couldn't recall the exact wording of the next line. Locked in her safe at the office, Tayler knew she needed to look at it closer for clues.

"Tayler," Erica said slowly, "evil comes in all shapes, sizes and s.e.xes. If you let your a.s.sailant play on your emotions, she'll win. Caution is still your best weapon."

Tayler hung her head. She could feel a headache forming in her temples. Through the stabs of pain came a sudden realization. She raised her head and looked directly into Erica's eyes.

"Do you know who's trying to kill me?"

"No." The word echoed in the silent kitchen. Erica got up and walked to the door.

"Wait!" Tayler sprang from her chair. It hit the floor with a heavy thud. "Erica? Erica, d.a.m.n it, what the h.e.l.l's going on?"

Erica avoided Tayler's eyes. "I don't know."

"And I don't believe you," Tayler said when she was alone.

In her room, Erica heard a door slam across the hall. She stood next to her own door and listened. From the m.u.f.fled sounds, she knew Tayler was crying. Her heart sank.

"What am I doing?" Erica groaned and turned away. She walked to her balcony doors and watched the wind whisk away a clump of leaves. At the restaurant the previous night, the air had sparkled with pa.s.sion and obsession. Against her better judgment, she had nearly kissed Tayler. The fire had stopped her.

"You are the woman mentioned in the curse," Erica looked at the black remains of Tayler's house. "Will you save me or will I kill you?"

Erica shivered. She wanted to feel hopeful but she could only imagine the evil that awaited them. She pressed her fingers to the window.

Time was running out.

"Come in," Erica called out in response to the knock on her bedroom door. Tayler entered, dressed in the deep purple running suit Erica had given her to wear. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell."

Erica could feel Tayler's eyes following her. "I know you didn't. With what's happened, it's perfectly within your rights."

"Someone's trying to kill me and I have no idea why." Tayler sat on the edge of the bed. She stared at Erica without blinking. "I'd say that puts me at a distinct disadvantage."

Tayler's blue eyes darkened, reminding Erica of impenetrable steel. Her insides churned. "Tayler, I want you to come with me to southern Mexico."

"Isn't it a bad time to take a vacation?" Tayler retorted.

"It's not for a vacation," Erica said holding up her hand to deflect Tayler's anger. "I have a friend there who can offer you protection. I don't want anything to happen to you."

Disarmed by Erica's concern, Tayler asked, "Is it safe to travel right now?"

"I don't think you have a choice, but we can talk about it some more in the car. I'll drop you off at your office. I'll be ready in a minute." She disappeared into the bathroom.

Tayler sat down on a chair and surveyed Erica's ma.s.sive bedroom. A sunken sitting area with a fireplace on one end opened up to the balcony doors on the adjoining wall. She got up and walked down the three steps to the sliding gla.s.s doors. She glanced back at the room decorated in shades of blue. It was all very luxurious, mysterious and dark.

She knows who it is, but isn't saying, Tayler thought to herself. This is crazy. Those attempts were meant to kill. Tayler's mind raced over the facts. A woman; two attempts involving fire, water and a knife; the attempts happened a month apart; and both took place immediately following Erica's return from Spain and Greece. Tayler sighed. But it couldn't be Erica -she was injured in the first attempt, and it was her house that went up in flames last night. A thought hid in the shadows of her subconscious. Erica's concerned about me. Do I believe her? Tayler asked herself. She turned toward the doors. Yes, yes I do believe she's sincere.

The view from the balcony was serene, unlike the fear enveloping her. She closed her eyes against the memories of the attack, the moments before the fire, the fire and Erica's disappearance. With two seeds of violence planted in her consciousness, and the possibility of future attempts, panic grew insidiously into her thoughts. Her emotional intrigue and physical desire for Erica threatened to fog her natural instincts for answers -answers that could explain what was happening. Tayler felt torn. Someone destroyed her home and sense of security. Before her was an invitation to go to southern Mexico with a woman she desired - a woman she barely knew. With her head down, Tayler turned slowly from the balcony.

Erica watched Tayler from the top step.

Tayler's gaze wandered deliberately up Erica's body, her fear momentarily overcome by fascination. Erica was dressed in a black, pin-striped suit that emphasized her narrow waist and long, slender legs.

"You're staring."

"Nice suit." Tayler climbed the steps and stood next to Erica, but grew light-headed as she took in Erica's perfume. She walked over to the side of Erica's bed and sat down -before she fell down. Her heart raced, she felt out of breath, and her body throbbed. She tried to restrain her raging emotions, but the sweet sensation felt more enticing than the fear she had so recently come to know.

Erica sat down on the bed next to Tayler. "You're hot. Are you okay?" Erica's nearness only made Tayler feel more faint. No one had ever made her feel this weak. Erica's brown eyes drew Tayler into her and Tayler found she could not look away. The skin on Erica's face looked so alluring. She wanted to touch Erica and she wanted Erica to touch her.

The phone rang startling them both.

Erica reached across Tayler and picked it up. "h.e.l.lo."

Tayler felt Erica's body tighten.

"Christina, what can I do for you?"

Hearing her mother's name, Tayler got up from the bed and readjusted her suit. She took several deep breaths.

"Yes, she's fine." Erica's eyes followed Tayler across the room.

Tayler didn't want to eavesdrop, but she knew her mother was asking Erica about the fire. She was plagued with guilt for not having called her mother before Christina read about it in the newspaper. The guilt deepened when Tayler wondered what her mother would say if she knew what her call just interrupted.

"Tayler?" Erica walked over and handed the cordless phone to Tayler.

"Hi, mom," Tayler's voice cracked. Her body was still tingling from Erica's fragrance and nearness. "Yes, I'm going into the office today. I need a sense of normality. I also need some clothes." As she spoke, Tayler watched Erica stop in front of a low dresser. She picked up a long silver necklace, swung her hair off her shoulders and placed it around her neck. When she put on her earrings, Tayler caught Erica's gaze in the mirror. Her voice squeaked. "I'm sorry I forgot to call you. No, really, I'm okay. My throat's pretty scratchy from yelling and inhaling smoke," Tayler paused. "Can you meet me for lunch today? Great."

Erica turned toward Tayler, leaned against the drawers, and smiled.

Tayler boldly met Erica's eyes, but then shyly looked away. "Erica's on her way out the door and she's giving me a lift to work. I'll see you at noon. Yes, I promise I'll be careful. Bye."

On the way to her office, Tayler sat next to Erica full of confusion and uncertainty. Was Erica feeling what she was feeling? Was she scared? Tayler looked over at Erica but could find no emotion on her face. Tayler wanted to grab the wheel and pull the car over to the side of the road. She wanted to talk about what was happening-her fears and confusion. But more than anything, Tayler wanted to talk about what was happening between them.

The two attempts on her life brought excitement into her life, but it wasn't the type of excitement she wanted. The sparks and intensity Tayler felt were even stronger than those she had experienced years ago with Gabrielle, but Gabrielle had been her father's lover and Tayler had kept her feelings to herself. She wasn't sure she could keep her feelings for Erica a secret.

The thought of being attracted to women-being a lesbian- didn't frighten Tayler. As a writer, she knew the public's opinion of gays was changing, yet she also was very aware of the hatred. Ted, one of the photographers she worked with, had been badly beaten solely because he was gay. She cringed at the memory of his broken nose, black eyes and bleeding ear. His attackers had ripped his earring through his ear lobe. The violent image made her flinch.

Erica reached over and squeezed Tayler's hand. "I'm making all the arrangements for our trip. Would you be ready to leave first thing tomorrow morning?"

"Tomorrow morning?" Tayler coughed. "I've got to get money, my pa.s.sport, clothes, luggage - "

"It's best we leave before something else happens," Erica's mouth tightened into a thin line.

Tayler watched the downtown shoppers along the street. "I'll see what I can do."

When Tayler opened the door Erica leaned over and caught her by the sleeve. "Tayler, be careful today."

"I will," Tayler stepped out and shut the door.

"I'll pick you up at eight tonight, okay?" Erica said through the open window. "I'll help you with your errands."

"Great," Tayler paused not wanting to say good-bye. "Um, thanks for the lift." She watched Erica pull away from the curb. The hunter green Jeep took a left and was soon lost in the morning traffic.

Wrapped in confusion, Tayler stepped inside the revolving door unaware of the eyes that followed her across the sidewalk and through the door.

Nine.

The early October weather was the warmest in years. An earlier chill had caused the fall colors to splash vibrantly across the city. People hurried to the city's lakes to take advantage of the last warm days before winter. Crisp leaves cluttered the sidewalks.

Tayler stood at the window perturbed she couldn't enjoy the sound of crunching leaves under her feet or the honking of geese flying overhead on their way south. She wanted to lie on the gra.s.s and take a nap in the sun, but she had so many phone calls to make. She didn't dare take a chance of losing herself in the warmth and fragrance of autumn-her favorite time of year.

"Tayler, your mother's here," the receptionist said through the intercom.

Tayler walked to the door and opened it. As her mother entered, Tayler slipped her arm through Christina's. "Hi. Thanks for being so flexible. I ordered out. Lunch should be here in a minute."

"Tayler, my G.o.d, this is serious." Christina searched her daughter's eyes. "I'm canceling our trip to Europe. Catherine agrees."

"Mom, please don't. I know how much you and Catherine have been looking forward to this trip." Tayler smiled. "I don't want to cause marital mayhem between Christina Windquest and Lady Catherine Winthrop Sullivan because some weirdo has a grudge against me."

Christina folded her arms across her chest.

"Mother, I want you to go." Tayler protested.

"Darling, your safety is more important than any trip. We'll just go when things quiet down." Christina sighed. "How do you know you're not being watched right now?" Christina looked around the office. Her yellow sweater was draped over her shoulders and she wore a pair of jeans, a white polo shirt and deck shoes.

"What type of life would I have if I were too afraid to walk out my front door? I can't live in fear, Mother, and neither should you."