Vision in Faith (Legends of the North Book 3), page 1
Contents
Copyright
Also by Liz Bower
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
About the Author
Vision in Faith - Copyright
Copyright © 2016 Liz Bower
All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people, except by agreement with the vendor of the book. If you would like to share this book with another person, please use the proper avenues. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
First Edition: August 2016
ISBN: B01H0LOUMU
This work is registered with the UK Copyright Service: Registration No:284705934
Book cover design: PremadeEbookCoverShop.com
Editing: Hot Tree Editing
Proofreading: Proofing Style, Inc
Also by Liz Bower
The Legends of the North series. Each book in this series follows a different couple but should be read in order.
Vision in Love - Book 1
Vision in Trust - Book 2
Vision in Faith - Book 3
Obsession - A standalone romantic suspense novel releasing Winter 2016
To anyone who has ever been brave enough to follow their dream.
Prologue
Lancashire, England—1700s
As the tortured cry died on the contorted lips of the man, William's own lips twitched as the realisation he was safe sank in. His soul was safe. His family would be rich, an integral part of the village. Revered, even. His struggles would not be for naught.
The man turned to face William as an unnatural light surrounded them, casting him in shadow. It was too early for twilight, yet the sun seemed to have fled. The only noise he could hear was the babble of the river as it steadily flowed past his feet.
William took a step back from the man. Evil emanated from his every pore, his mouth a gaping hole that gave rise to the stench of rotten eggs as he let out a crazed laugh. The man leaned towards William.
"Your soul may be safe, but you never bargained for those of your family." The man's lips pulled across his face in a gruesome manner, which William imagined was supposed to be a grin.
He shivered as a cloud of vapour rose from the river, the white mist wrapping itself around his legs, the cold of it seeping through his clothes. "What do you mean? This was our deal."
The man tilted his head towards William, his eyes boring into his. "I never said that. You never said that." The man pointed a bony finger in William's direction before he carried on, "You were the one who wished for their repute. You made their souls part of this deal. Your soul may be safe and mine may be bound to yonder oak tree," he explained as he flung his arm suddenly to the side. William flinched in response. "But those of your family? Those are anything but safe from me."
The man threw back his head and cackled, the noise echoing as the man took another step closer to William, jabbing a gnarled finger to his chest with every word he spoke. "Every child of yours. Every child of your child will be marked until I make three Altenbury souls my own. Their souls will be my salvation. The power of three." He threw his head back and raised his hands to the sky. "The magic of three will set me free. Thy hath been warned."
William staggered back, his hand pressed against his chest.
Dear Lord, what have I done?
Chapter 1
Vicky was sitting in Jess's living room. She could hear Emma's voice, but not the words that sounded like they were travelling through a tunnel. In fact, Emma seemed to be in another place too as her face became blurred, her outline fading, until all Vicky could see was blackness.
She blinked and glanced around the unfamiliar room. It was dark and dingy, and so cold she could see her breath in front of her face, a white plume escaping from her lips.
"Don't just stand there. Get on with the bloody fire."
Vicky jumped at the sound of the unfamiliar voice and turned towards it, but all she saw was a figure walking away from the doorway. From the sway of the heavy skirts, she guessed it was a woman since she couldn't tell by the bark of the voice. When she turned back to the room, her gaze landed on the huge stone fireplace. It was easily big enough for her to stand inside she realised as she took a step closer to it.
As she did, the grate erupted in flames, throwing shadows and sparks towards her. Flames burned yellow and orange as they danced and licked at the log, sending more sparks flying, the crackling echoing around the fireplace.
Jumping back when the heat hit her, she suddenly found her fingers curled around an old-fashioned candleholder. I'm trapped in a Jane Austen book! Vicky turned as the flame guttered then blew out, plunging her back into darkness.
The first thing she heard was Emma's concerned voice.
"Vicky? Are you okay?"
As she blinked, she saw Emma kneeling in front of her. How was she supposed to answer that? What was she supposed to say? It had felt so real. She could still feel the heat of the fire, smell the musty room and the smoke. Quickly, Vicky stood up but swayed on her feet. Emma grabbed her.
"Vicky?"
"I'm sorry, Emma. I have to go." Vicky hurried out of Jess's house, slamming the front door behind her. When she heard the door shut, a sob escaped her. Lifting her hands to her face, she noticed how much they were shaking and when she turned them over, there was a layer of black soot covering them.
If it hadn't been real, then where had that come from?
***
Emma stared at the closed door then down at the black streak of something smeared across the sofa.
"I should go after her," she said, turning to face Jess, but Jess just shook her head. Staring back at the sofa, Emma bent down, hesitantly, to touch the black powder. It looks like ash. She rubbed it between her fingers before jerking her head up towards where Jess still stood.
"Vicky just had a vision. I need to go after her."
They both jumped at the sound of someone banging on the front door. Jess quickly made her way over to it, yanking it open.
"Oh, I thought you were Vicky. I wasn't expecting you."
"Can we come in?" Matt asked. Jess stepped back, pulling the door open wider to let them in. James gave her a half grin, and when Rob stopped to press his lips briefly against hers, she sagged against his hard chest. Closing the door behind them, she followed Rob back into the living room to find Matt with his arms around Emma.
"We saw Vicky run out of here and wanted to check you were okay. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen. Did you tell her?"
Emma nodded. "That's not why she ran off though." She stepped out of his embrace and looked towards Jess. "I think she just had her first vision."
"What makes you say that?" James asked as he moved to stand right in front of her, leaning over her.
Emma looked up at Matt. "I told Vicky and Jess about you popping the question, and it was like she was somewhere else. Her eyes were glazed, and well…" She pointed at the sofa cushion, and the three men crowded round to look at it. "I should go after her," she said again, as she moved towards where she had left her jacket.
"No. I'll go," James said, and he felt all their gazes land on him.
Emma's forehead furrowed as she tried to find a polite way of saying that James would be the last person Vicky would want to see. She was pretty sure Vicky hated him. "I don't think she'd want to see you, James." When she felt Matt's hand on her arm, she looked up at him and saw him shake his head ever so slightly. Did he know something she didn't? Her eyebrows scrunched up at that thought and her lips twisted together.
"That's exactly why I should go. It will give her something else to think about other than the vision." James turned on his heel and headed out the door without another word.
Emma took a step after him, but Matt still gripped her arm. "Leave him to it, Emma."
She turned to glare at him. "But why?"
"Because I think James is right. Maybe this is something they need to work out together."
"Has James said something to you?" she asked.
Matt's gaze flicked to Rob then back to Emma. He lifted one shoulder in a shrug and said, "Not really."
She narrowed her eyes as she tilted her head towards Matt. "Not really?"
But Matt just twisted his lips into a half smile mixed with a half apology. At that, Emma knew he wasn't going to tell her anything more, and she let out a frustrated sigh.
***
James flicked the collar of his jacket up; it might have been June, but there was still a chill in the air. Checking the road, he crossed and headed for Stydon. He knew where Vicky lived, considering Matt had told him—numerous times. Sort of in no man's land, neither Altenbury nor Stydon, but between the two.
It would only take a few minutes to walk there, so he slowed his pace, needing the time to think. Offering to go after Vicky probably wasn't one of his better ideas now that he thought about it. Emma was being kind by saying Vicky wouldn't want to see him because he actually thought she hated him. And that pissed him off because she had no reason to hate him. She didn't even know him.
But, like so many others, the Altenbury name was enough to make a judgement on him. Admittedly, it was normally a judgement in the opposite direction to Vicky's.
Pinching the bridge of his nose tightly before rubbing his hand over his forehead and dragging it through his short hair, he decided this was all Matt's fault. James had mistakenly told him about his recurring dream, which was how he knew Vicky lived in one of the flats that faced the old house he had seen over and over in his dreams.
James knew the old house—everyone in Altenchester and Stydon did. It must have been beautiful in its heyday, but he'd had no idea Vicky lived so close to it.
Turning his back on the old place, he faced Vicky's home and squared his shoulders. Her flat was on the ground floor; the window lit up brown as the light shone through the thin curtains. But he hadn't come here to stare at her window, so he forced his feet to move. As he rang the bell, he just hoped she would let him in, or at least talk to him.
Chapter 2
After she had fled Jess's house, Vicky had just kept running, although she wasn't sure why. It wasn't like anyone was following her; she had checked. But the need to put some distance between what she'd seen at Jess's and herself had spurred her feet on. She only slowed to a walk when she saw the sign telling her she was leaving Altenchester and her feet were no longer on Altenbury land.
It was quiet once she left the village behind, and dark. Her gaze lifted to the few stars she could see before the image of a fireplace and sparks danced before her eyes. Leaning against the wall of her flat, she let out a sigh as the rest of the images flickered through her mind. She would have dismissed it as nothing if it hadn't been for the soot. But had anyone else seen it? Had she imagined that as well as everything else?
The excited whimpering of Teazle and the scratching of her nails against the door behind her banished the questions from Vicky's mind for the moment. Pulling her keys out of her pocket, she let herself in, flicking the lights on as she did. The dog launched itself at her, and she stumbled, managing to close the door at the same time.
Leaning down, she picked Teazle up, who promptly licked her face, and her whole body wriggled in excitement as Vicky ran her hand over the short, wiry fur. Vicky smiled when Teazle let out a little whimper, remembering why she had chosen the dog in the first place. Tan and black with little ears, she reminded Vicky of the cute gremlin Gizmo from one of her favourite films when she'd been younger.
Pushing herself away from the door, she leaned over to drop Teazle back to the floor and almost screamed when the doorbell rang. Pressing a hand against her chest, she straightened, keeping the tiny dog in her arms. Calm the hell down. Checking through the peephole, she let out a gasp when she saw James standing at her door, seemingly staring straight at her. Holding Teazle closer, she considered not answering, but the thought that something might have happened after she'd left Jess's made her change her mind.
Turning the handle, she pulled the door open slightly and leaned her hip against the doorjamb as Teazle stuck her head out of the small gap. She started wriggling in Vicky's arms as James reached a hand out to scratch behind the dog's ear. Traitor. Looking up at James, she waited for him to say something as she tried not to drop the excited Teazle.
He cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. Which unfortunately drew Vicky's gaze to the material stretching tighter across his crotch. When he cleared his throat again, her gaze flew back to his face.
"I came to check that you're okay," James said, trying to hide a grin.
Jerk. He probably thought she would throw herself at him now, just like all the other women in the village. Yeah, she'd heard the rumours.
"As you can see, I'm fine."
She went to shut the door, but he wedged his foot between it and the frame. She stepped back in surprise. "What are you doing?"
The door swung open and James stepped inside, taking Teazle from her arms. Quietly, he shut the door and leaned back against it. "I wanted to make sure you were okay… after the vision."
Taking another step back, she rubbed her finger across her bracelet, spinning the charm on it. How had he known? What did he know? Stalking away from him, she made her way into the kitchen and poured herself a whiskey. When she glanced up, he was staring at her. She waved the bottle in his direction and he nodded. "Neat?"
"Definitely," he replied, and took the glass she offered him. Her fingers brushed over his as he wrapped them around the glass. The aftershock of his touch travelled all the way up her arm and straight to her chest, and she quickly withdrew her hand with a shudder.
"Why don't you go take a seat while I let Teazle out into the backyard."
He stared at her for a beat then turned and headed for the living room.
Opening the back door, she let Teazle out and turned to see his dark head drop as he leaned over, elbows propped on his knees. Okay, so she could admit he was attractive—her body was determined to remind her of that—but she'd do well to remember he was still an Altenbury. He was still the reason she'd be working for Margaret for the foreseeable future.
***
James dropped onto the sofa, suddenly feeling every year of his thirty-five years and then some. He didn't want to argue with Vicky. He was tired of whatever was going on, frustrated that he couldn't end it, and annoyed that someone else was involved. He wasn't pleased about it being Vicky either because she seemed hell-bent on hating him. But he'd seen her face when their fingers had touched—she'd felt something. He watched her as she took a seat and glared at him.
"Look, I don't know what your issue is with me, but can you just put it aside for one night?"
"My issue with you is that you're an Altenbury. It's hard to put that aside."
"You seem to manage with Jess and Matt," he said, as he drained his glass and placed it heavily on the table beside him.
"They're different."
He couldn't help the snort at that comment. "Different how? Last time I checked, they both had the name Altenbury. And if I'm not mistaken, Emma will too soon enough."
Vicky frowned at his comment because he was right. Abruptly, she stood, staring down at him. "Yeah, well, neither of them has tried to stop me achieving my dreams for no apparent reason, apart from the fact they could. You've had your drink and, as you can see, I'm fine. You can go now." She punctuated her words by pointing towards the door, her arm outstretched.
What the hell is she talking about? This woman confounded him. He leaned back against the sofa, crossed an ankle over his knee, and then had to fight not to smile when she put her hands on her hips like a petulant teenager. "Honey, I don't even know what your dreams are, so how could I stop you from achieving them?"
She cocked her head and squinted at him. "So, what? Your mother just made it up?"
Shaking his head, he let out a groan. That woman was the bane of his life. "What's my mother done now?"
