“I wasn’t forced to marry you,“ she interrupted fiercely.
He gave her a small, admonishing shake. “Come on, honey. We both know you felt you had to marry me because of the baby.“
“I didn’t marry you because of the baby,“ she said, surprising herself with the steel in her voice.
“Yes you did,“ he contradicted easily. “I didn’t give you any option and you wisely realized marriage was the only reasonable solution under the circumstances.“
“Will you kindly shut up, Colby? I did not marry you because of the baby. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have married you solely because of the baby. I mean, you were willing and you’re a good man and you are the father and babies deserve the advantage of having both parents whenever possible, and I might have married you because of all those things. But those don’t happen to be the reasons I did marry you.“
“No?“ He tugged her through the elevator doors as they opened and dug his keys out of his back pocket. “So why did you marry me?“
Diana could tell by the light tone of his voice that he was humoring her. It was the last straw. She dug in her heels and fixed him with a furious gaze. “I married you because I’m in love with you, you big dumb macho idiot. Now get out of my way. I want a hot shower and then I want my robe and slippers and then I want dinner. I’ve had a very hard day.“
As soon as he’d opened the apartment door she rushed past him, dodging Specter’s eager greeting, and fled down the hall to the sanctuary of the bathroom.
Colby stood staring after her for nearly a minute before he became aware of Specter’s anxious whine. He switched his attention to the dog.
“I think,“ Colby announced, “that this calls for a beer and a dog biscuit. You want to join me?“
Specter followed him into the kitchen without protest.
Colby came awake hours later with the last few pages of Blood Mist as clear as crystal in his mind. It wasn’t the first time he’d awakened with a sure knowledge of where he wanted to go next in a book, but it was rare to have it this detailed.
He lay still for a moment, conscious of Diana’s sleek, soft warmth beside him. He didn’t really want to leave the bed, but the need to get the ending of the book nailed down while it was fresh in his mind was too strong to ignore.
He waited for a little while longer, going over the details of the scene, and then slid quietly out of bed. He reached for his jeans. He hesitated, gazing down at the sleeping woman in the bed and trying not to think about what she had said earlier while she had been in the grip of an emotional storm.
A man could drive himself crazy dwelling on the real meaning behind a woman’s emotional outbursts.
Specter heaved himself to his feet and padded silently after Colby as he went down the hall to the front room.
A few minutes later Colby was staring at the glowing computer screen, his fingers moving quickly over the keys.
The roar of the water was a never ending crescendo of sound. It filled the whole world, cutting off everything that was normal, reasonable, rational. He was in another universe, another time and place and he had to play by the new rules if he and the woman and the unborn child were to survive.
The granite was slippery. In the omnipresent darkness the water that flowed over every surface looked as black as moonlit blood and was just as treacherous. Banner scrabbled for purchase as he fought his way up the narrow, sloping ledge toward the cave entrance. He could hear nothing except the thundering water, see nothing except the hulking shadow of the slick rock wall that concealed the cave.
He could not risk a flashlight. He could not risk warning the evil that waited in the cave.
A gust of wind drove water into his face, blinding him even more effectively than the darkness. He wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his sodden shirt and moved forward another few feet.
Then, without any warning, his groping fingers touched empty space and he froze. He was standing at the great yawning mouth of the cave.
He stared into the dark pit, aware of the silent summons from the hidden grotto. She was waiting for him there. He had to get to her. But first he had to get past whatever it was that threatened her. After all these years he would finally learn the truth. He was no longer certain he wanted to know the answer.
“Colby?“
He was startled by the sound of Diana’s voice. He turned around and found her standing near his desk, wrapped in her robe. Her face reflected the faint, eerie glow of the computer screen and he could read the concern in her eyes.
“Hi, honey. Didn’t mean to wake you. I got a couple of ideas for finishing the book and thought I’d better get them down while they were fresh in my mind.“
“I suppose a professional writer has to take advantage of a burst of inspiration when it strikes.“ She came closer.
“Bursts of inspiration are damned rare in this business.“ He smiled faintly. “You make use of them when you’re lucky enough to get them.“
“Don’t you have them all the time? Isn’t that how the creative process works?“
He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. A book gets written through sheer, unadulterated hard work, sweat and perseverance. Anyone who sat around waiting for inspiration to strike would probably take ten years to finish a book, if he finished it at all.“
She smiled slightly. “Sounds a little like real work.“
“Yeah. That’s exactly what it is.“
“Well, that certainly ruins the image, doesn’t it? Can I read what you’ve written?“
“If you like.“
She stepped closer and peered down at the screen. He felt her tension as she recognized the setting.
“That’s our cave dream you’re writing,“ she whispered.
“Not quite. It’s a modern story. Our dreams seem to involve that old legend about the Chained Lady. But I’ll admit there are some similarities. I told you soon after I met you that I got the idea for this story from my dreams and from memories of the first night I spent in Chained Lady Cave.“
“You said that the experience terrified you as nothing else ever had,“ Diana said musingly. “You also told me once that you knew the writing was going well when your fantasies scared even you.“
Colby shrugged. “That’s right.“
“Colby, how is it going to end?“ she asked tensely. “Have you dreamed the ending?“
“No.“ He grinned briefly. “That would be too easy. Writers never get off that easily. But I’ve got a feeling about it, and I can structure the last part of the plot based on it.“