Free The Possession by Spikes J. D.

flash he changed, strong legs clothed in fitted white cloth, highly polished boots hugging well-formed calves. The white shirt, vaguely familiar, peeked out from a tailed coat, the ruffled front gracing a muscled neck. He looked extremely uncomfortable in such a get up.
    “Ro.” If one word held a world of regret, that was it.
    “No. I’m . . .”
    He disappeared, and with him the sanctuary of the cemetery. The ground seemed to undulate, and every creepy feeling rushed up from it.
    I snatched the candle from the ground and ran.

Chapter 10
    Angry clouds boiled the night sky to charcoal by the time I reached the house. The wind whipped my skirts, tugging at me as though to pull me to the very sea itself. I thanked the Lord our property was bounded by a split rail fence, a last defense, and fought my way back.
    The bright red roof of home signaled safety, a beacon flashed to vision by the power of lens and light working together. A beam of light slashed outward to sea every four seconds, the incoming fog no match for it. The deep booming hum of horn sounded both victory and warning to those at sea.
    My heart pumped, every pounding beat a terror and a thrill. A victory and warning of my own.
    Tonight I had made my destiny. I had taken Vincent to my heart, into my arms, and had kissed him back as fervently as he kissed me. I could no more say to him leave than I could tell my limbs to fall from me or my breath to stop.
    He is a man like no other, and I shall not let them rule us. I love him . . . and I know that he loves me. Is there need for more than that in this harsh place?
    At last I reach the door. Fumbling through my purse, I retrieve my key, but the gift from Vincent, my medicine pouch, falls to the floor and the wind nearly carries it aloft. I snatch it quickly from its flight, but the hesitation has brought attention to my arrival. The door flies open.
    “Maman? Where is my maman?”
    The stranger, a woman with strawberry tresses, stares at me horrified. What has happened here? Where is my family? And why is she garbed in men’s pants?
     
    *    *    *
     
    The wind howled. I rolled over, but something twisted on my legs. I could hear the surf pounding the rocks beyond the light.
    I pushed myself up and rubbed my eyes. My gaze fastened on my alarm clock. It was nearly two in the morning. I fell back onto the pillows.
    Something was wrong. I’d gone to the cemetery tonight. I had waited until I heard Aunt return through the buildings from the lighthouse. Once her bedroom door had clicked closed, I quickly grabbed the little reticule and slipped out. I’d made it to the cemetery in record time.
    Vincent had met me there. I shuddered. Yet why had Vincent’s appearance shocked me? Isn’t that what I wanted? To make contact on my terms?
    The clock struck two. I shoved the covers aside and rose from my bed. The chemise readjusted, clinging softly to my form.
    I stared at my body. Crossing the room, I lit the small desk lamp and stood before my oval mirror.
    I still wore the undergarments from my costume.
    My gaze scanned the room. The green gown was draped across the rocker arms, the reticule resting on the seat beneath it and my hair ribbon dangling there, too. Matching slippers—those god-awful nothing shoes of old—rested beneath the chair as though tossed there. Crossing quickly to the windows, I threw open the nearest and leaned out.
    The night was clear. Only the roughened surf brought attention to itself, the pounding beat that had awakened me.
    I doused the light, returned to my bed, and climbed in. Gathering the covers about me, I plumped my pillows and rested against the headboard.
    There was no doubt. I seriously needed to get to the library. I would check in town first, during the day, then check our library at night as I could.
    I had to know what had happened. What was going on now.
    What was to be.
    Morning seemed a long way off.
    Time passes quickly when you sleep, though. The sun once again