Page 31 of The Unseen

L UCAS ENDED THE WORKDAY AND GOT READY TO HEAD BACK TO Belle Reve. He had called Nicole earlier in the day, but the call had gone to voicemail. A second call, a little later, had the same result.

Worried, he’d phoned Josh, who told him Nicole was painting. The security guard was staying nearby, but she insisted he not interrupt while she was working.

That had been hours ago. Lucas had been about to leave the center to head back to the house, but a problem came up between a student and a teacher. He was forced to stay and resolve the situation. He phoned Nicole several more times, still couldn’t reach her, and then phoned Josh again.

“I’m glad you called,” Josh said. “It’s getting late and dark, but Nicole is still painting. I’m starting to get worried.”

“I’m almost there,” Lucas said as he pulled down the gravel lane. Josh was waiting when he climbed out of the Jeep.

“I didn’t want to leave her, but she’s in a fairly secluded spot and there’s no way you could find her unless I showed you.”

Lucas nodded, his worry accelerating. “Let’s go.” They strode down the overgrown trail. The sky was growing darker by the minute and a mist had started to fall. Josh stopped at the edge of the small clearing, where Nicole stood behind her easel.

“I’ll take over from here,” Lucas said. “Thanks for watching out for her.”

“Just doing my job,” Josh said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Josh walked away, and for several seconds, Lucas just stood watching her.

She was totally immersed in her work. Her brush moved across the canvas, as if it had a will of its own.

Lucas frowned. In the lessening light, she looked pale, and the hand that held the brush was shaking.

There was a bottle of water at her feet, but it was still half full.

“Nicole,” he called out softly, not wanting to frighten her. “It’s Lucas.”

She seemed unable to hear him.

“Nicole, honey, it’s Lucas.” Moving slowly, he came up beside her and took hold of her arm, stilling the movement of the brush. One of her dark paintings, he saw, a picture of the shack he could see across the quiet surface of the water.

He turned her to face him and she blinked, as if waking from a dream.

“Lucas?”

He put his arms around her. “It’s getting dark out here, sweetheart. Time to go in.” She didn’t resist when he took the brush from her hand and set it on the palette.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

As if her legs were too weak to hold her up, she relaxed against him. “I don’t know. I feel shaky.”

Lucas silently cursed. Picking up the bottle of water, he cranked off the cap. “Drink the rest of this.”

She took the bottle with a trembling hand and downed the contents. After a few long swallows, she seemed a little more in control.

“Let’s go inside, baby.”

“What about my painting?”

“I’ll bring it in for you.” Keeping her close beside him, he grabbed the canvas and they headed back to the house. Once inside, he set the painting against the wall in the entry, led her over to the sofa, and eased her down.

“Did you eat anything today?”

She looked up at him, a line forming between her russet eyebrows. “I can’t remember.”

Fresh worry filtered through him. He went into the kitchen and grabbed another bottle of water. He opened it for her and carried it over to the sofa.

“I’ve got supper in the car. Drink some of this while I go get it.” He was glad he had picked up some Italian food on his way home. Clearly, she was in no shape to cook dinner.

She tipped up the plastic bottle as he headed out to the Jeep. Carrying the food back inside, he set it on the kitchen counter.

“Feeling better?” he asked as he returned to the living room.

Nicole gazed up at him, still looking a little dazed. “Yes … much better. Thank you.”

“What happened out there today?”

She rubbed her palms over her jeans. “I’m not exactly sure.

I was looking for something to paint. I remembered the old shack down on the bayou.

I had painted it before, but it had been years ago.

Today when I went out there, it looked different, strangely intriguing.

Once I started, I couldn’t seem to stop.

Images rushed into my head so fast I could barely get them drawn on the canvas.

” She glanced toward the painting leaning against the wall in the entry.

“I don’t remember how far along in the process I was when you showed up. ”

Lucas walked over and retrieved the canvas. He carried it over and set it up where they could easily see it.

Nicole shot forward on the sofa. “Oh, my God, Lucas!”

The old shack was there in all its grim glory, the remnant of a past that would never be revealed. But there was something more.

“It’s a face,” Nicole said. A vague image hovered above the cabin, a face wreathed in pale blond hair that softly curled. The woman had lush blue eyes and ruby lips. She was beautiful.

“Do you think she could be the ghost who appeared in Rachel’s room on Saturday night?” Nicole asked. “It has to be more than coincidence.”

His mind ran over the possibilities. “So far, the only woman with a connection to Francois is Simone St. Denis.”

“Yes, and Francois is the only other face I’ve painted.”

“True.”

“Apparently, whatever entity was in the room with Rachel on Saturday night made it clear she believed Francois still belonged to her.” Nicole looked at the canvas, at the face that dominated the scene. “Maybe she was sending a message.”

“Or a warning,” Lucas said.

Nicole’s attention swung back to him, worry in her big green eyes.

“Any idea what the shack might have to do with it?” Lucas asked.

“None whatsoever.” Nicole leaned back on the sofa. “The painting’s not quite finished. Once it’s done, maybe we’ll know more.” She blew out a weary breath and sat up straighter. “I don’t understand why any of this is happening. How is it happening?”

“It’s the house,” Lucas said. “Finding Francois’s bones unleashed all of this, but Belle Reve is the focus.”

“How do we stop it?”

“I don’t know. I’m hoping my grandmother can help us. I called her today. She’s in Lafayette visiting friends. She’ll be home the end of the week. She’s planning to come over as soon as she gets back. I’ll be in touch with her to set up a time.”

Nicole took a drink from the bottle of water, then put the cap back on. She glanced toward the kitchen. “Something smells good. What’s for supper?”

He could tell she was ready for a change of subject. “Lasagna. It’s not homemade, but it’s from Rosa’s, so it should be good.”

Nicole managed a smile, but it didn’t look completely sincere. “I hope you’re hungry, because I’m starved.”

Lucas’s gaze ran over her, the ivory complexion, the few faint freckles across her nose and forehead, the fiery copper hair. He was hungry, but not for food.

Then he thought of the image in the dark painting, thought of the violence unleashed in Rachel’s room, and worry took the place of the need she aroused in him.

He’d take off early tomorrow, he decided, send Josh home and look after Nicole himself. He’d make sure she didn’t exhaust herself finishing the painting. He’d feel better if he was near.

There was danger in the spirit world. At the moment, that danger was focused on Belle Reve. Lucas had seen things few people would believe: the raging power, the violence, the fierce destruction. Human life was frail in comparison.

Lucas was determined that nothing, human or otherwise, was going to hurt Nicole.

The following day, Nicole was working on the painting of the shack on the bayou when she heard a vehicle driving up the lane. Thinking it was Lucas, she pulled herself away from the hold the painting seemed to have over her and started hurrying back along the overgrown path to the house.

As she stepped out into the open, a man unwound himself from inside a black-trimmed white Porsche. Tall, blond, Christian Villard.

Nicole clenched her teeth. Tempted to turn and run back into the trees, she forced herself to continue toward the house. There was no way she was letting Christian intimidate her. Still, the sooner she got rid of him, the better.

He turned at the sound of her approach and gave her what he believed was a charming smile. “Nicole. I was hoping I would catch you at home.”

“I’m in the middle of something, Christian. What can I do for you?”

He glanced around, as if to make sure she was alone. She didn’t mention Josh, who wouldn’t interfere, but was somewhere nearby in case she needed him.

“I’m here to discuss a possible offer on Belle Reve,” Christian said. “Why don’t we go inside, where we can talk it over?”

“My aunt owns Belle Reve, and she isn’t interested in selling. You and your father both know that. I’m sorry you wasted your time driving up here.”

Christian kept his phony smile in place. “Unless you want me to go over to the main house and speak to your aunt, we need to go inside so you can at least hear me out.”

She didn’t want to go anywhere with Christian, but she didn’t want him making a scene that would involve Aunt Rachel. Brushing past him, she led him into the carriage house and closed the door.

Nicole turned to face him. “All right, let’s hear it—then you can leave.”

Christian lounged back against the wall in the entry. “How about a cup of coffee?”

“No.”

He sighed. “All right, here are the facts. We both know it’s only a matter of time until your aunt passes and you inherit Belle Reve.

Rachel is extremely ill. It’s in her best interest to end the stress of owning a house that’s in constant need of repair.

Perhaps we could make some kind of arrangement for her to remain on the property until the time of her death.

A life estate, of sorts. A condo, maybe—something like that. ”

“My aunt is only forty-four. She could live many more years. However long it is, she wishes to remain at Belle Reve, the house our family has owned for over a hundred years. She has no interest in selling. I intend to make sure her wishes are fulfilled.”

She hadn’t noticed him moving closer, until she felt a slight tug and realized he had wrapped a curl of her hair around his finger.

Nicole pulled away.

Christian just smiled. “How much will it take for you to convince your aunt to do what’s in her best interest?

We’re willing to pay you a considerable sum as a brokerage fee—say, a hundred thousand dollars?

That would be on top of the purchase price, of course.

You’d have money in the bank, and your aunt would have enough to last till the end of her life. What do you say?”

“You aren’t listening, Christian. The Belmond family isn’t interested in selling. Now please leave. You aren’t welcome here again.”

He glanced around. She had made the mistake of letting him in, but she had never really been afraid of him. At the predatory gleam in his eyes, she realized her error and her pulse kicked up. She could scream, and Josh would come running, but she didn’t want to do that unless she had to.

“If I were you and all alone out here,” Christian said, an edge to his voice, “I think I’d be a little more friendly.” He moved closer, blocking her escape, backing her up against the wall. He tried to kiss her, but she turned her face away.

“Get away from me, Christian.”

“If I decide to have you, nothing you do is going to stop me.”

“Try it and I’ll call the police. Attempted rape would be a nasty blow to the Villard family name.”

He gave her a feral smile. “People have seen us together. There have been rumors. Who do you think people will believe? You, a woman with financial troubles, in desperate need of a man’s protection. Or me, a Villard, the son of a very powerful man.”

Christian pinned her with his body, caught her jaw to hold her in place, and lowered his head. Nicole twisted and tried to knee him in the groin just as the door slammed open and Lucas burst in.

He took one look at the scene and, in an instant, he was on Christian, dragging him off her, spinning him around and smashing a fist into his face.

Blood flew, spattering the front of Christian’s pristine white shirt.

Lucas delivered another crushing blow, this one to the stomach.

Christian choked and doubled over, wheezing and trying to catch his breath.

Lucas jerked him up and hit him again, sending him flying backward against the wall, slamming into it, sliding down and sprawling on the floor. Christian groaned.

When Lucas grabbed his shirt and hauled him up, then drew back a powerful arm for another blow, Nicole grabbed his bicep and hung on. “Lucas, stop it! That’s enough!”

He swung around, as if facing another foe, his fist still clenched.

“Lucas!”

He shuddered, the muscles in his arm trembling with the effort it took to regain control. She had seen this side of him before—the dark, dangerous side that he had managed to leave in the past. Mostly.

His body slowly relaxed, and a little at a time, he became himself once more. He nudged Christian with the toe of his low-topped leather boot. “Get up.”

Nicole hurried into the kitchen and grabbed a dishtowel, returned to the living room and handed it to Christian, who pressed the cloth against his bleeding nose. He staggered to his feet.

“Time for you to leave,” Lucas said.

“You’ll be sorry for this.” Christian reeled back a few steps, then managed to regain his balance. He wove his way to the door.

“Don’t come back,” Nicole said as Christian staggered outside.

“You won’t like what will happen next time,” Lucas warned, a dark look on his face.

Christian turned back to them. “You’ll pay for this, Devereaux.” His glare shifted to Nicole. “You’re both going to pay.” Slamming the front door closed behind him, he headed for his car.

Lucas pulled her into his arms. “You okay?”

She nodded, though she was still shaking. The roar of the Porsche’s engine and the screech of tires throwing up gravel signaled Christian’s departure.

“What are you doing here?” Nicole asked, leaning against Lucas’s chest. “Where’s Josh?”

“I sent Josh home when I arrived. Why didn’t you call him when Villard first got here?”

She sighed. “Stupid, I guess.” She looked up at him. “I should have. I thought I could handle it myself.”

“Maybe you could have.” He tipped her chin up and gently kissed her. “I don’t like the idea that you had the problem in the first place.”

She kissed him back. “Thanks for playing Sir Galahad again.”

He sighed. “The problem is, I get carried away when I see someone hurting you. It hasn’t happened to me in a very long time. I don’t like it.”

She understood. He was a different person now than when he was younger. “With any luck, nothing like that will happen again.”

“With any luck,” he said. But the dark look remained on his face.