Free The Kingdom by Amanda Stevens Page A

Thane’s gaze lingered on my grimy appearance. I thought I detected a softening of his features, but it may only have been my imagination.
“What happened to you?” he asked.
I had no intention of telling him anything. If he’d never had a supernatural encounter, he wouldn’t understand. My description of an evil wind would undoubtedly elicit laughter or pity, and I didn’t like opening myself up to ridicule. I was a private person, and my ability to see ghosts was by necessity and desire a very personal thing. Nor was I ready to reveal the discovery of the grave. Not quite yet. Not until I’d had time to think it through calmly.
So I ran a hand through my gritty hair and shrugged. “I tangled with a briar patch. Occupational hazard.”
“You should probably go in and put something on those scratches.”
“I will later,” I said with a shrug.
“And by later, you mean after I’m gone.”
I smiled thinly. “You’ll have to excuse my manners. I just got home from work and I wasn’t expecting company.”
My own subtle rebuke had the intended effect, and for a moment he looked suitably contrite. “I apologize for just dropping by this way, but I won’t take much of your time.” He motioned to the porch. “If we could just sit for a minute?”
I hesitated. The sun was well below the treetops. It would be dusk soon, and even though I knew how to protect myself from ghosts, I’d never lived so close to a desecrated cemetery before. I had no idea what might rise from that lake. It was best not to take any chances.
“I promise I won’t stay long,” he said. “I’d like to talk to you about Thorngate.”
I gave an inward sigh. All I wanted at that moment was a hot bath, a soothing cup of chamomile and Angus keeping watch from the back porch. But I was my mother’s daughter, and the Southern social graces were as deeply ingrained in my nature as my father’s rules. I nodded and smiled politely as I moved over to the steps.
The air had chilled as the sun had gone down, and the woods crowded in on us. I could smell the evergreens as they loomed thick in the fading light, rank upon rank of towering sentinels. I drew Angus close as Thane and I sat side by side on the porch.
“What’s this about Thorngate?” I asked.
He paused for a moment as his gaze scoured the landscape. I had a feeling he was searching for something to say. “I haven’t been up there in years. How bad is it?”
“I’ve seen worse.” I gave him a puzzled glance. He faced straight ahead, and I could divine nothing from his profile. But instinct told me that the cemetery was the furthest thing from his mind, and I began to feel a little apprehensive. Why was he really here?
He turned suddenly and caught me staring. I glanced away as warmth stole up my neck. “I’ll tell you a little secret about Thorngate,” he said. “The only way to fully appreciate it is by moonlight. There’s an area near the mausoleum that was specifically designed for nighttime viewing.”
I thought about the stone angels with their strange, upturned faces and the silvery overgrowth of sage, wormwood and moonshine yarrow. “I recognized the remains of a white garden,” I told him. “I have one at home so I can well imagine how beautiful the cemetery would be in moonlight. Especially with all those statues. The faces are extraordinary.”
“Yes,” he said dryly. “We Ashers have always been very good at erecting handsome monuments to ourselves.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, I suppose, except our ego has taken ostentation to a whole new level. I sometimes wonder if all that money spent on the dead might not have been put to better use on the living.”
“But cemeteries are for the living,” I said. “And those who pay tribute to the dead usually have a commensurate respect for life.”
He gave me a look that I couldn’t begin to interpret. “You really don’t know very much about us, do you?”
A brittle edge in his voice made me wonder