Free Viator (The Viator Chronicles Book 1) by Jane Ralston-Brooks Page A

got?”
    “Water, Coke, tea, brandy. Or I could put on a pot of coffee.”
    “I’ll take a brandy.”
    Erin pulled out a bottle from a kitchen cabinet, picked out two small brandy snifters, poured hot water into them and swished it around. She dumped out the water and poured some brandy into each glass. Gary watched her from the couch.
    “Here you are.” She handed him his glass.
    He raised his glass to her and took a large swallow. He leaned his head back again. Erin sipped hers. “Do you have a place to stay?”
    “Yeah, my assistant made a reservation for me at a hotel in town.”
    Erin switched on a table lamp and sat down in the chair opposite him. “Everything all right?”
    He gave a short laugh. “Just great.” He looked away, then glanced back at her. “It was a rough day.” He drained his glass.
    “Do you want to talk about it?”
    “No, it’s really boring. Why don’t you tell me about the plans for tomorrow?”
    “Sure. The ferry takes about an hour and a half to get to Orcas. Matt and I already loaded our bikes on top of my car—there’s room for yours and Jacob’s too. Gwen’s will have to go in the back. Once we get off the ferry, we’ll drive to the state park and to the top of Mt. Constitution—there’s a great old lookout tower there, and the view is amazing. Then we’ll go have our picnic and ride.”
    “Sounds perfect.” Gary leaned toward her, resting his arms on his knees. “Do you do this often?”
    “Only once before. It was a lot of fun.”
    He stood up, stretched his arms towards the ceiling, and walked to the living room window. It was dark in that part of the room, and Erin was struck by how bright his blond hair was even in the shadow. She felt an urge to smooth her hands across his back. He turned around and grinned at her. “Are your kids here?”
    “Of course. They’re in bed.”
    He nodded. “I’m beat. I’d better go. We’ve got an early start in the morning, right?”
    “Right.” She stood up and walked over to him.
    He bent down and kissed her lightly. His lips were smooth, and he tasted like brandy.
    She stepped backwards a half step and said, “I’m cooking breakfast in the morning—you want to come? It won’t be anything fancy.”
    “Yeah, I’d love to,” he said. “What time?”
    “Eight o’clock?”
    “I’ll be here.” He walked to the door and let himself out. Erin followed him outside and looked at his SUV.
    “New car?” she asked.
    He shook his head, “No, I’ve had it. I needed to drive something that would carry my bike. Unfortunately, that means no rides in the Porsche for the kids.”
    “They’ll be disappointed, but there was nothing else you could do.”
    “Next time. See you in the morning.”
    He climbed into the SUV. Erin watched until his taillights disappeared, and she shivered in a sudden cold breeze. She glanced around, scanning the shadows under the trees, and dashed back into the house, her skin covered in goosebumps.

Chapter 11
    Erin dropped ten feet into the darkness below, curled up, and landed in a crouch on the floor of the cavern. She gasped. Her breath lingered as a cloud of mist in the bitter cold air. Up above a crow cawed, and then was silent. She stayed motionless for a moment, listening. The only sound was a slow drip, drip, drip of water far away, in the further confines of the cave.
    She rose, and as her eyes became more accustomed to the darkness, she was aware of a deeper blackness against the wall in front of her. The hair on the back of her neck rose, and her stomach twisted as she smelled the sick stench. The mortifer turned, its cold gleaming eyes piercing as its hatred smashed into her. Three more stood beside it, black shapes in the dark, and their icy hunger reached out toward her.
    In one smooth motion, Erin drew her sword, lunged forward, and sliced across the first of the mortifers. It jumped back, but her blade pierced through, and it collapsed in the darkness with a long shriek. It