Bound by Time by A.D. Trosper

followed him back to the house. The closer they came to the kitchen, the tighter her chest grew.
    Damien glanced at her, alarm filling him. She was so pale and her pupils nearly drowned out the green of her eyes. “Breathe, Isobel. I promise there is nothing in your kitchen.”
    Isobel took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to find reassurance in his words as they reached the doorway. The beam of light illuminated the kitchen floor and there was…nothing. No dead man. No blood. No severed head.
    “What…” She frowned and examined the floor again.
    Damien smiled gently. “Shouldn’t you be happy there isn’t a dead man on your floor?”
    “I…of course. But then…why did I see it?”
    “Do you see a lot of things like that?” Damien frowned. How far had Xapar’s strength reached? How many times had he gotten into her mind?
    Isobel shook her head, refusing to tell him about the whispers, her face melting in the mirror, or the icy fingers that touched her. And she definitely wasn’t going to tell him she dreamed of the same man losing his head every night. He would think she was crazy.
    He shined the light around the living room behind them. “Why don’t you change out of those wet clothes while I hunt down a flashlight for you?”
    Isobel suppressed a shudder. “I can’t.”
    “Why not?” A furrow appeared between his brows as he looked down from the height he had on her.
    “I can’t go upstairs.” Great. So much for not sounding as crazy as a loon.
    Damien studied her for a long moment. “You’re afraid.” There was no hint of mockery in the soft statement.
    When Isobel nodded, a tear slid down her cheek. His thumb gently brushed it away. A strange sense of déjà vu fell over her as she stared up at him in the murky light. His eyes comforted her although she had no idea why.
    Damien’s heart broke at the sight of the tears and the knowledge of her fear. He gave a quick nod of his head. “I’ll come with you then.”
    “What?” Isobel backed up a step. “You can’t do that.”
    Damien sighed. What did she think he had planned? “Not into your room. I’ll stand right outside the door.”
    “You’ll come with me?” She wouldn’t have to face it alone. But what could he possibly do to protect her from a creepy window?
    “Si haec voluntas est tu. ”
    Isobel raised an eyebrow. Now he was speaking another language? Why did the words sound familiar? “What did you say?”
    “If it is your wish.” He smiled and her heart melted.
    “What language was that?”
    “Latin.”
    She eyed him for a long moment. Isobel had never met anyone that spoke the way he did. If it is your wish. Who said things like that anymore? And in Latin, no less.
    “Well?” His smile faded as he gazed at her with intense blue eyes. “Do you trust me to come with you?”
    Isobel nodded. She didn’t know why she trusted Damien, but she did. “Yes. I don’t want to be alone right now, but I don’t think you’ll like it up there.”
    Damien raised an eyebrow. “Why not?” He couldn’t tell her he knew exactly why. Not yet.
    “I…” Isobel stared at the carpet. “I think this house is haunted…or something.”
    “Or something?” Damien nodded. “Well, I’ve seen a few ghosts in my lives. Let’s go have a look at yours. Then you can change into something dry.”
    Isobel started to follow him then stopped. “Wait, what do you mean lives?”
    He glanced over his shoulder at her. “What?”
    “You said you’ve seen a few ghosts in your lives .”
    “I must have misspoke.” Damien looked at her, his face unreadable in the storm-darkened house. “Are you ready to change your clothes?”
    What was she insinuating? Just because he seemed to appear suddenly when she was in need didn’t mean anything. She had to quit reading so many paranormal romances. “Yeah, I guess.”
    She followed him up the stairs. Her skin tightened when they reached the landing, but the familiar sense of being watched was