Believe Read Free Page B

was nearly normal. Merlin’s book sat on the table untouched. Her reluctance to pick it up again was ridiculous. She simply hadn’t read the captions correctly, that’s all. There was nothing more to it. Add to that the end of a long day, her growing excitement over her upcoming trip, even her mother’s whimsical note about magic, and it was no wonder she was seeing things.
    “Don’t be an idiot, Tessa.” She nodded sharply and reached for the book. Her hand shook and the volume slipped from her grasp, tumbling to the floor to land with its pages spread open and flattened, its cover facing up. “Damn.”
    No matter what else this book might be it was obviously old, possibly valuable and deserved to be handled better. She picked up the ill-treated volume, ignored a strong desire not to look at it, and flipped it over.
    The book had opened to the illustration of the knight in the chapel. Once again, the vividness of the picture struck her. The skin tones of the knight were so warm and real, she almost thought she could reach out and touch the pulse throbbing in his throat. The coolness of the stone walls and the deep serenity of the room itself was so well portrayed it seemed to seep from the picture to envelope her. The brightness of the sun streaming through the window was nothing short of lifelike. The brilliance captured her and held her mesmerized. Dust motes danced in the light. The beam itself grew more and more intense. She raised her hand against the blinding ray but couldn’t seem to turn away.
    What was going on here? She couldn’t wrench her gaze from the picture that pulled her inexorably closer although she never took a step. Fear clutched at her stomach and she fought against whatever force held her in its grip. What was happening to her? Dimly, in the back of her mind she likened the sensation to a classic movie technique. A pan-zoom, she thought it was called. The camera moved forward while the lens moved back, creating a disorientation of space and distance. The effect had always made her dizzy on screen, but caught in its grasp here and now, nausea swept through her. She hurtled toward an image that swelled until it encompassed her vision, her senses and, finally, her world. Tessa struggled against a shock that stole her breath and stilled her heart. She covered her eyes with her hands and battled to regain control. Abruptly, the turbulent atmosphere encompassing her quieted, as if an off switch had been thrown.
    She kept her hands pressed over her eyes. What in the hell was that? Was she sick? Dead? Had she had some kind of attack or seizure?
    She stood unmoving for a long moment. Her heart thudded in her chest. She couldn’t remember ever being scared like this in her life. Oh, she had known fear now and then but never sheer, unadulterated terror. At least not aside from an occasional nightmare. But terror gripped her now. What would she see when she uncovered her eyes? Once more she sucked in a deepbreath. Whatever else she was, Tessa St. James had never been a coward and she was not about to become one now. She dropped her hands and stared at the vision in front of her.
    A knight knelt in prayer before an altar, his hands clasped, his gaze turned toward the heavens.

Chapter Two
    “H oly shi—”
    “Now, now, my dear, your language. This is a chapel, you know.”
    Tessa whirled toward the voice. An older gentlemen leaned against the stone wall in a nonchalant manner. His accent was slightly British, his jacket was traditional herringbone, his short hair silver and his steel-gray goatee trimmed to perfection. She gasped. “You! You’re—”
    He broke into a perfect step-shuffle-ball-change that would have gladdened the heart of her third-grade tap dancing teacher.
    Tessa stared in confusion. “Fred Astaire?”
    “Nope.” He executed a few more perfect steps. “But people tell me”—he finished with a flourish—“ta-da. I look like him.”
    Her eyes widened with disbelief. Between