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picked up coffee, milk, yogurt and fresh
berries. The fruit was way overpriced for this time of year but she needed a
taste of summer. Then she stopped at the wine store for a bottle of merlot. She
hoped by inviting Jordan for dinner, she might find out what she knew about the
town and its mysterious people like Garrick, Ramon and Kashia. On the way home,
she took the canal towpath again, refusing to allow a legend to spook her.
    Something tugged on her hair and she jumped, almost dropping
her shopping sack. Laughing, she gripped onto her bag and marched under the
bridge. She was scaring herself for no reason.
    This time a shadow crossed her path.
    “You will be my crimson slave,” a man’s voice whispered
close to her ear. She felt his breath, felt the touch of his hand on her
shoulder. Crying out, Larissa spun around but no one was there.
    She glanced up and down the path and saw no one running
away. To one side was a wall leading up to the bridge. Even a tall person
couldn’t leap to the top. The only other way off the path was to jump into the
canal. She would’ve heard a splash if the man was crazy enough to do that in
this weather. Was it the ghost, or something else?
    Her body chilled then flashed with heat. A shiver raised
goose bumps over her skin. If it was a ghost then she had nothing to fear. A
ghost couldn’t harm her, only frighten her if she let it.
    The shadow and a breeze sped passed her and Larissa was
slammed against the cold stone wall. All the air rushed out of her lungs and
she gasped for a breath to scream.
    The weight of a muscular body pressed her against the wall
as hands moved up her hips and waist. Oh God, she was going to be raped or
murdered or both. With all her strength she tried to kick, tried to swing her
arms to fight, but she was paralyzed.
    Her pulse thundered in her head. Finally she found the
courage to open her eyes and face her attacker. The Goth guy who was on her
balcony. “You.”
    “Yes, little one. I’m claiming you. Taking what’s rightfully
mine.” His scorching gaze moved down her length, kicking up her heartbeat and
heating her skin. Despite the violence, she felt woozy, sensually achy, his
touch tempting. Her head leaned back and rested against the stone, the fight
and fear being replaced by erotic desire.
    What was wrong with her? “What are you doing?” she murmured.
    “Wait and see.” His booted foot shoved her feet apart. A muscular
thigh eased between her legs. The buttons of her coat opened and cold air
chilled her body. Fear rose to the surface again. She shuddered as his mouth
glided over her neck, teeth scraping her skin. “This might hurt a little. It’ll
be over quick,” he said.
    “Am I going to die?” she asked, her voice fading. All her
strength drained and she couldn’t fight, she couldn’t scream even though she
knew she should. Surprisingly, her body felt aroused, her nipples hardened, her
pussy throbbed and ached for the naughty things a man’s mouth could do. She
giggled a little, as if she were drunk. What was happening to her? In the
distance or behind the stone wall she heard a woman laughing.
    He groaned low in his throat. “No, little one, you’re not
going to die. Relax and you’ll enjoy it bet—”
    He didn’t get to finish his sentence. The Goth man violently
pulled away from her. Larissa opened her eyes to see him flying through the
air, across the canal and landing on the opposite bank. He stumbled up the hill
and disappeared.
    Impossible. He’d leapt at least thirty feet and didn’t touch
the water. “How did he do that?” Stunned, Larissa stared, unable to react or
comprehend what had happened. She didn’t realize Garrick stood beside her.
    “Why are you down here? I told you it was dangerous.”
Garrick rubbed his forehead then picked up her sack and hooked it over his
shoulder.
    “Who was that? How did he do that?”
    He grabbed her chin and turned her head to the side. “Did he
injure you?”
    “No, I’m