“You are my woman…”
“I’m no one’s woman, you fiend.” She turned to run again, but something grabbed her from below, holding her fast, strong fingers curling around her ankle. Glancing down, Jenna found herself staring into the upturned face of Lynnetta Swaggert.
Lynnetta, her hair combed, an angelic halo seeming to glow around her as she lay upon the snow, smiled blissfully upward, and said, “You’ll tear your dress, Jenna.” Blue eyes clouded with worry. “Be careful. I can’t mend it for you any longer.”
“Lynnetta! Thank God you’re all right.”
But Lynnetta’s beatific smile turned evil. “Sensual…strong…erotic…” Lynnetta repeated, as if she’d memorized the words.
“What are you doing here? Who brought you?” Jenna demanded.
“You are everywoman.”
“Like hell!”
“Tsk, tsk. This is your destiny.”
“Destiny? No…” In a full-blown panic, Jenna looked around at the crumbling headstones, the thick night closing in. “I’ve got no destiny.”
“Of course, you do. I’m talking about God, Jenna,” Lynnetta said. “He’s the only door to salvation.”
“God is no part of this.”
“He works in mysterious ways.”
“That’s bull, Lynnetta.”
“Where are your clothes?”
“What?” Jenna looked down and discovered that she was naked. The black sheath was no longer wrapped around her body and she was cold…so damned cold…shivering. Sharp bits of sleet bit at her skin, leaving tiny red welts upon her flesh. “I don’t know.”
“You’d best find them, naughty, sinful girl. Tsk, tsk, Jenna. Shame on you. Making those filthy films…” Lynnetta’s peaceful smile faltered and she was gone; in her place was dirty snow, piled high around a tombstone.
With horrified eyes, Jenna read the inscription:
Cassandra Lynn Kramer, beloved daughter.
What! Her heart hammered painfully. Cassie? No!
“No, no, no!” she cried, hyperventilating, tears streaming down her face…
Jenna’s eyes flew open.
Darkness surrounded her as the nightmare slithered into the darkest corners of her subconscious. “My God,” she whispered, swiping the tears from her eyes.
She was home.
In her own bed.
Safe.
Her heartbeat slowed as she caught her breath. And then sensed it. A presence. Dark and evil…as if someone had been standing over her, watching her writhe painfully through the nightmare. But that was impossible; probably her own mind playing tricks upon her, the remnants of the chilling, grotesque dream. Her skin prickled in fear, and she strained to listen for the sound of shallow breathing, or the scrape of a shoe against the floor. She heard nothing out of place, just the howl of the wind shrilling over the eaves and the creak of old timbers settling onto the frozen foundation.
Yet there was a shift in the air, something amiss, the cool breath of some living creature’s wake.
Don’t do this to yourself, she reprimanded, as she rolled quietly from beneath the covers and grabbed the robe she’d tossed over the footboard. Heart thudding wildly, she made her way to the hallway, and by the feeble glow of the nightlight, she climbed the few stairs to the next floor where the hardwood was cold against her feet and the air seemed to stir without reason.
Cassie’s bedroom door was ajar and bluish light flickered from within. Quietly, Jenna pushed the door open and saw her daughter fast asleep on the bed. Cassie’s face appeared innocently soft and unlined, cast in the shimmering pale blue from the muted television. The worries and stresses of her teenaged life had been erased by the peace that comes with sleep.