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    From Satan, With Love
    From Satan, With Love
    From Satan, With Love
    Ebook192 pages3 hours

    From Satan, With Love

    By Virginia Coffman

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    One by one the lost and lonely women came to Lucifer Cove, each searching for personal happiness...only to meet with disaster, as they encountered the handsome and sinister Marc Meridon. Now it was Maeva Wells’ turn. Because her niece: Jenniver, had been hurt in an accident and taken to the Cove, Maeva was forced to stay there overnight. And when morning came, Jenniver was curiously reluctant to leave. Would Maeva be able to free Jenniver from the alluring spell of Marc Meridon and the Cove? Or would the spell overcome Maeva...and claim her immortal soul?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCandlewood Books
    Release dateJul 31, 2012
    ISBN9781933630663
    From Satan, With Love

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      Book preview

      From Satan, With Love - Virginia Coffman

      From Satan, With Love

      Written by Virginia Coffman

      Candlewood Books

      ****

      Published by Candlewood Books at Smashwords

      ISBN 978-1-933630-66-3

      Copyright © 2012 by Candlewood Books, a division of Harding House Publishing Service, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the publisher.

      CHAPTER I

      It was sunset by the time they were halfway up the side of the cliff. Like a teacher who finds her pupil has taken the reins with immature confidence, Maeva knew they should never have started their walk so late in the day. Certainly not up the face of a granite cliff above the desolate Coast Highway. But her teen-aged niece, Jenniver, was obviously used to having her own way, and since Maeva’s guardianship would be for one month only, it was difficult to begin a course of discipline. Nor did it help much that sixteen-year-old Jenniver was as endearing as she was willful.

      Jenny! Wait for me! Maeva called several times, only to receive a wave and a mischievous grin from the leggy young athlete ahead of her. Maeva was a city girl and could walk thirty blocks in Paris or London if assured that a shop with some civilized commodity was her goal. But her beautifully tailored white slacks and thong sandals were not created for mountaineering. So desolate and rugged was this stretch of the California coastline north of Big Sur, that it would be no place in which to hike after dark, Maeva thought, as slippery bits of shale and pebbles showered her from Jenniver’s eager, climbing feet some yards above.

      Jenniver! Maeva shouted with a sharpness, a hint of anger she hadn’t used before. At the same time she stopped within sight of the ledge near the top of the cliff that scrambled uncertainly through a crevice and down into some unknown valley on the other side. Hopping on one foot, Maeva emptied pebbles and sand out of one sandal and then the other. She glanced down at the highway. It looked very far below, a very hard, black surface.

      When she raised her eyes momentarily, she was blinded by the burning scarlet of the sun on the hazy, distant horizon. The foam of the Pacific combers was scarlet too, and the ocean itself looked the color of watered blood. Se winced at the mental picture, throwing off the superstitious thought that this was an omen.

      She was still staring at the eerie view when Jenniver’s young voice called out from above, Maeva, you’re awfully slow. Get with it, girl!

      Maeva waved gaily, trying to be cheerful, but aware of a hitherto concealed desire to shake athletic young Jenniver until her strong white teeth rattled.

      Coming. Just give me time. I think one of theses thongs is about to break. And this heel doesn’t feel any too steady.

      The girl laughed. You and your fine feathers! But come along. I’ll make a mountain climber of you yet.

      Heaven forbid! Maeva called, hoping she didn’t sound too vehement about it. You’re at the top now. We’d better turn back. It will be dark soon.

      But Jenniver was already scrambling into the narrow crevice, which cut in an easterly direction through the rocky surface. Maeva heard her excited calls a couple of minutes before she herself reached the crevice and made her way through in a gingerly manner to join the girl on a granite ledge overlooking an extraordinary scene.

      The valley spread out before them was not, like those other California coastal valleys she had seen in her drives, a pleasant, green rolling area, inhabited only by healthy milch cows, and dotted with huge, sprawling oak trees. This long, narrow valley was tightly walled in between various outcroppings of the Coast Range, like a separate world, imprisoned by nature. The valley floor itself was neither green nor in the least attractive to a bovine population, being hazy with yellowish sulphur that escaped in little spirals through the dry brown earth, staining the solitary mesquite bushes and an occasional cypress, twisted in an easterly direction as if caught in panic-stricken flight.

      What a marvelous, creepy place! Jenniver murmured, with a joyous sigh, apparently more enthused over this than over a less sinister vision. Could there be a volcano underneath? Look at all those buildings down the middle of the valley. Like a little town with a single street.

      It seems to be a Hot Springs. Maeva shaded her eyes with one hand and pointed out the wide-ranging, two-story stucco complex at the north end of what did seem to be a town with one populated street, running north and south, plus a tangle of uninhabited roads that were laid out like a drunken grid in the area between the two girls and the town. A great deal of steam poured forth at that moment from the grounds around the Hot Springs buildings, and Jenniver raised her binoculars to study the moving dots that were presumably people around the Hot Springs and on the upper end of the main street, where the buildings thinned out. Only the backs of the houses that lined the street were visible to Jenniver and Maeva and they all seemed to be attached. A series of story-and-a-half buildings perhaps four blocks long, with few breaks, as if they were all joined, and curiously enough, all stark black and white, like half-timbered Tudor houses.

      There’s a nice building toward the south end, Jenniver remarked, handing her young aunt the glasses. Looks like a hotel. Did you ever hear of a town along here? It’s not on my map. You can see for yourself. It seemed to Maeva as she adjusted and then looked through the glasses that the people in that little town were scurrying around with remarkable speed as the long shadows of afternoon blurred the entire valley into grey dusk. They certainly appear to be in a hurry.

      Jenniver grinned mischievously. "No wonder. It’s the Dracula Hour." She made a hideous face and imitated Bela Lugosi. Maeva laughed but wasn’t altogether sure this remark was as funny as it sounded and when Jenniver gave her an interested side-glance, she was forced to put on a light mood that was decidedly false.

      Well, we’ll have to turn back now, for sure. It will be dark in no time. And whether that valley is on the map or not, it doesn’t entice me. Jenniver turned with obvious reluctance, but looked back before following her. Entice you, no. But doesn’t it intrigue you? I mean what’s it doing there?

      She hurried up behind Maeva, grabbing her by the shoulders and muttering in a loud stage whisper, Maybe we’ve stumbled onto a Martian landscape. Or into another time. Or—

      Maeva laughed and shuddered at the same time.

      Really, Jenny! You are the limit! You won’t be happy until you’ve got me stretched out stark and cold, scared to death. Besides, we couldn’t very well stumble onto Mars without quite a lot of rocketry. One blue Volkswagen would hardly get us there.

      You never know, said the girl airily. She looked back again, this time studying the mountains on the east and the south that enclosed the little valley. You know, there are caves in that eastern range. She clutched Maeva suddenly. Look! Halfway up that south mountain, between the greenery and the foliage. A little Greek Temple. It looks like it’s on fire.

      There really was a miniature, white-pillared temple on the distant mountainside, its western facade high enough to catch the last gaudy light of the sunset and it certainly did look as if it were caught in an all-encompassing blaze.

      Maeva said quickly to forestall Jenniver’s predictable next suggestion, I’m afraid you wouldn’t like the place. The valley appears to be a health spa. For older people. Seeing Jenniver’s wavering but still lively interest, she added firmly, Very old people.

      She turned and started to squeeze her slim, and until recently, white-clad figure through the crevice between the granite walls. But although Jenniver started after her, sending a great quantity of loose shale rattling down into that unknown valley, the girl hesitated at the last minute and swung around to ferret out the distant, Scurrying dots of people with her binoculars. This time it sounded as if she sent half the mountainside rumbling down.

      Jenny! Do be careful! Maeva cried impatiently, but with a definite trace of worry as she tried to turn around in the crevice to see what her niece was up to. Jenniver stepped out closer to the edge, peering through the glasses. Would you believe it? There’s no question about it. I can only see half as many people on that street as there were a few minutes ago.

      That’s because they’ve got more sense than we have. It’s nearly dark down there in the valley. And it’s going to be dark before we get back to our car, if we don’t hurry. Come along before someone steals it.

      Who’d steal our little bug? Jenniver scoffed. Nobody’s passed along the highway in ages. She was still peering through the glasses. You were wrong, Maeva. I see some people up near the Hot Springs place that aren’t exactly ancient . . . That’s funny. There’s something shining right in my glasses. Bright. Burning. Is it traffic lights? No! How silly! It’s like you look.

      With her usual wild enthusiasm, she swung around, waving one arm with the glasses.

      Maeva cried, Careful!

      She saw the thing happening before Jenniver herself was aware of it, the girl’s sturdy flats trying to get a grip on the smooth, glossy shale and then slipping . . . slipping . . .

      Jenniver shrieked, and throwing her weight to the left instead of making the instinctive backward thrust, managed to slide down a sloping granite wall rather than take the sheer, deadly drop on her right side. Maeva, reaching for her with frantic fingers, just missed her.

      There was a narrow trail about the width of a human foot, winding down the cliff in a northerly direction which was on Maeva’s left and she thought might bring her nearer to the girl whose shoes kept slowing down over obstacles, then slipping onward, toward the valley’s dry, acrid floor, a procedure that would have looked ridiculous if it weren’t so dangerous. As Maeva made her way down the trail, several times catching herself before a fatal slip, Jenniver called out, giggled, and then cut the nervous, panic- stricken giggle with another shriek as she failed to stop herself and took another roller-coaster plunge.

      Three-quarters of the way down Maeva thought prayerfully that she had almost reached her adventurous niece, but the girl gave another whoop and this time lost her balance entirely, falling on one reasonably padded hip, and rolling on down, dragging shale and. pebbles and a prickly bush as she went.

      Jenny! Jenny! Maeva rushed down the trail, going so fast she almost missed a switchback and spun around, catching the sharp turn and heading now in the opposite direction but always downward to the desolate valley floor. Jenniver had been stopped by a mesquite bush, about fifty yards above her. She was enormously relieved, when Jenniver raised her hanging head, waved a hand and grinned feebly.

      Thanks, God! Thanks! Maeva thought and started to climb up the slippery shale toward her. I’m coming, dear. Hang on.

      Almost at once her heel split, but it did not break off, and paying no attention to it, she scrambled up over rolling pebbles and fallen twigs, mesquite and a prickly, dead cypress until she was within reach of Jenniver when, holding onto the girl’s arm, she slipped back down several feet and nearly dragged the girl with her. Jenniver groaned and Maeva cried out breathlessly.

      Sorry. Terribly—sorry. Now. That’s better. Where does it hurt, dear?

      M—my foot . . . and my leg. Oh! There was a little, breathless pause and Jenniver exhaled deeply.

      Wow! That was a bad one. Pain kind of comes and goes.

      It was already dusk, and perched at the side of the mountain as the two were, the young city woman of twenty-six, the girl of 16, they were less terrified than they might have been with greater experience. Maeva dug her foot into the roots of the plant that had stopped the girl, and examined Jenniver’s ankle and leg. The tom slacks revealed what Maeva had dreaded, that the girl’s leg was probably broken above the ankle. The color of the injury, and the position of the bone was evident even to the layman. Jenniver knew too. Maeva, you’ll have to do it alone.

      Do what alone? Try and move, just a little. Maybe it’s only swollen.

      The girl did her best, but the movements cost her such pain, Maeva could not bear it. Don’t! It’s no use. Maybe I can get you down. Slip down. Both of us, you holding onto me.

      Jenniver gritted her teeth, agreeing gallantly, Say the word, Captain. Lead on. I follow. You can settle me in delicious comfort on terra firma down there and l like a dear, long distance runner, you make for that gorgeous town.

      Of course, dear. Can you get up now? Don’t for heaven’s sake put weight on that foot. Easy . . . She could never afterward understand how they made it to the ground. They slipped a dozen times but always Jenniver’s weight was thrown against the waiting cushion of Maeva’s slim body.

      When the girl was settled between two bushes for protection against the rising night wind, her teeth began to chatter in spite of her efforts to be brave. Over her half-crying protests, Maeva took off her jacket and tucked it gently around the girl’s exposed legs. Jenniver, looking over her bowed head at the gray half-dark that shrouded the valley, murmured with a clear effort not to reveal pain, If you could make it over that little that little hillock, I think there’s a road. Probably coming in from the coast highway . . . You’re bound to hitch a ride.

      Bound to, Maeva agreed cheerfully. There. How’s that? Thank heaven, you’ve still got your shoulder bag! Get out that pencil light of yours if you hear me calling. That will lead me to you, with help, I hope. Okay?

      Saved my binoculars, too. Jenniver waved the glasses in triumph.

      But when Maeva left her, and looked back to wave reassuringly and note her exact position against the outcroppings of rock and mesquite, the healthy, tanned young face in its frame of stringy hair, looked very small, with its big, brave grin.

      Back soon, dear, Maeva called. Don’t signal to anybody unless you’re absolutely sure of them.

      Righto, Captain!

      Until she started alone on a rapid walk over the hillock Jenniver had mentioned, Maeva was full of good resolutions and a confidence that her venturesome niece bore a charmed life. But once away from companionship, and moving across a darkening landscape toward an unknown—and—unheard of little town ahead, she was chilled and apprehensive. Fortunately, the heel

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