Mistress of the Crows E-Book

Leslie Garber

• Herausgeber: Alfredbooks
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Seitenzahl: 106

Beschreibung

Mistress of the Crows Leslie Garber A young woman is on the trail of a terrible secret and encounters the love of her life. The size of this book corresponds to 100 paperback pages. "No," whispered the grey-haired woman with the light blue eyes. Her mouth was half open. She was terrified. From the horizon she saw the dark swarm of birds approaching. Like dark thoughts they floated in the sky. They were crows. I called her, she realized it and this realization struck her like a blow. She felt the despair rising inside her. It was a dark, cloudy day. Dorothy Carson shivered. An icy wind came from the coast and blew over the grey-looking country. A croaking sound cut the silence like a knife. The old lady swirled around looking at the front of the spacious, stately country house she lived in. Half a dozen crows had taken a seat on the roof without Dorothy noticing. And a few more have now been added. It was spooky.

Leseprobe

Mistress of the Crows

Leslie Garber

A young woman is on the trail of a terrible secret and encounters the love of her life.

The size of this book corresponds to 100 paperback pages.

"No," whispered the grey-haired woman with the light blue eyes. Her mouth was half open. She was terrified.

From the horizon she saw the dark swarm of birds approaching. Like dark thoughts they floated in the sky.

They were crows.

I called her, she realized it and this realization struck her like a blow. She felt the despair rising inside her. It was a dark, cloudy day. Dorothy Carson shivered. An icy wind came from the coast and blew over the grey-looking country. A croaking sound cut the silence like a knife. The old lady swirled around looking at the front of the spacious, stately country house she lived in. Half a dozen crows had taken a seat on the roof without Dorothy noticing. And a few more have now been added. It was spooky.

Copyright

A CassiopeiaPress Book: CASSIOPEIAPRESS, UKSAK E-Books and BEKKERpublishing are Imprints by Alfred Bekker

© by Author /COVER TONY MASERO

© of this issue 2015 by AlfredBekker/CassiopeiaPress, Lengerich/Westphalia

www.AlfredBekker.de

[email protected]

1

"No," whispered the grey-haired woman with the light blue eyes. Her mouth was half open. She was terrified.

From the horizon she saw the dark swarm of birds approaching. Like dark thoughts they floated in the sky.

They were crows.

I called her, she realized it and this realization struck her like a blow. She felt the despair rising inside her. It was a dark, cloudy day. Dorothy Carson shivered. An icy wind came from the coast and blew over the grey-looking country. A croaking sound cut the silence like a knife. The old lady swirled around looking at the front of the spacious, stately country house she lived in. Half a dozen crows had taken a seat on the roof without Dorothy noticing. And a few more have now been added. It was spooky.

"Away, you little beasts!" Dorothy shouted in a hoarse, powerless voice. Meanwhile, the flock of birds from the horizon was approaching.

Unbelievable, she thought. It is my thoughts that summon these beings. My dark thoughts and a mysterious power that seems to dwell within them...

But then why didn't they disappear again if she wished? Why didn't she have the power to drive those birds away again?

She heard the cawing and that sound went through her throat. For a moment Dorothy Carson was stunned, then she went for the main portal of the country house. She was scared. Nameless fear that tied her throat and threatened to drive her half mad... Fear of those dark creatures that she herself had summoned but over which she was still not completely mistress. The birds came closer. Dorothy Carson ran now. It was a big swarm. The cloudy sky began to darken. Some of the birds flew very low. And the horrifying cawing was now ubiquitous. That sound made Dorothy shiver. Inside her everything was cramping together. She heard herself murmuring incomprehensible words.

I can't control my power, Dorothy's head was boiling hot. She tried to concentrate, but she couldn't. She was filled with nothing but naked fear.

Then she tripped, only a few meters away from the staircase of the portal. Dorothy sobbed. It was pointless to stand against the overpowering dark forces that she herself had summoned. These powers were too strong. She couldn't control them, however hard she tried. She gasped. The fear sweat stood cold on her forehead as she turned around and saw the swarm of crows coming towards her. They were flying very low. And the animal cries of their hoarse birdcalls sounded like sinister death threats. Dorothy screamed with all her might and then closed her eyes. She turned around again, had her head in her hands and lay there like a curved embryo. Then she felt a touch on her shoulder and a shiver made her tremble.

A dark man's voice reached her ear as if from a distance.

"Mrs Carson! Mrs Carson, come on!"

She hesitated for a moment before she dared to open her eyes, then looked into a familiar, if visibly frightened face. It was Charles the butler's. Charles was much older than she was, but his grip was powerful and determined. The butler pulled Dorothy Carson up and got her back on her feet. She trembled and whimpered softly as the swarm of crows flew screaming over them both. Together they went up the portal. Charles opened the door and then, a moment later, they were finally safe. Dorothy grasped slowly.

"It's so terrible, Charles," she sobbed. "So terrible... The birds..."

"What about them?" asked the butler.

"Oh, Charles, it was I who called her! They were attracted to my thoughts, but there's nothing I can do about it! I can call them and sometimes it happens even without my intention, but I can't control them!"

"Mrs Carson...", the butler tried to calm the mistress of the country house, but he didn't get the chance to say anything.

"I beseech you, Charles, go away from here too!"

"But, Mrs Carson, I would never leave you here alone," the butler explained in a firm voice.

"These beasts - haven't you heard what happened to Lowell's calf? A whole swarm threw itself on the animal..."

"It is not conclusive that these were the crows," Charles explained objectively.

But Dorothy didn't have ears for it.

"They proceeded according to plan, picking the animal's eyes first. Then it was helpless and they could kill it, even though it was so much bigger and stronger... I'm responsible, Charles! Me, nobody else! The power of my thoughts is to turn these harmless birds into beasts..."

"Stop it, Mrs Carson!", the butler demanded desperately.

The sounds of flapping wings penetrated even through the door at both their ears. Dorothy Carson had to swallow involuntarily. I have to fight it, she said to herself. And she pressed her fingertips against her temples, behind which it suddenly pulsated painfully. I have to do it!, hammered it in her. I have to... Otherwise the uncanny power dormant in her would continue to bring death and ruin...

2

Sally Rogers has worked at the prestigious Jackson & Graves antiquarian bookshop in Southampton for over three years. She enjoyed her work and during the time she was already here, she had gradually gained respect from her somewhat bear-bitten boss Clayton Jackson through her expertise. And expertise was the be-all and end-all when it came to assessing the value of antiques, old books or furniture. The success of the business depended not least on this. And since Clayton Jackson's health has not been particularly well off lately, and Graves, the company's second partner, was primarily concerned with financial matters, Sally now held a fairly important position at Jackson & Graves. And that even though she was quite young for it. That morning, one of the saleswomen led a dark-haired young man into her office.

"This is Mr. Carson," the saleswoman introduced the young man. Sally estimated that he was about her age. In his slightly tanned face stood a sympathetic smile, which she replied involuntarily. "Mr. Carson wanted to see you..."

"Yes, that's all right," Sally replied. "Mr. Carson and I had been on the phone..." She remembered.

David Carson from the management of Carson Industries.

Carson shook hands with her while the saleswoman disappeared again. "Then you are Miss Rogers."

"Yes."

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Please, sit down, Mr. Carson," said Sally while her eyes met his. She noticed that he had grey-green eyes.

The fact that he looked at her for a moment longer than was actually necessary confused her for a fraction of a moment.

David Carson sat down.

"It is a valuable library that is to be sold and first catalogued and its value assessed..."

"Well, we certainly do expert opinions like that," Sally replied. "And if necessary, we also take over the entire handling of a sale. However, only if the matters under discussion are not..."

"...scrap metal?", David Carson interrupted her and smiled.

Sally smiled back and raised her eyebrows.

"I didn't mean to say it so drastically. But our house only deals in really valuable antiques - not the things you can buy at flea markets."

"That's why I came to see you, Miss Rogers."

"What kind of library is this?"

"First of all, it's not my library, it's my Aunt Dorothy's. I'm here on a sort of commission."

"I understand..."

"I don't know exactly, just this much: There should also be some folios from the time of Henry the Eighth. Plus old chronicles, Bible editions, and so on. I suggest you just take a look. From Southampton you drive about an hour and a half to the country estate of Aunt Dorothy."

"Seems quite lonely..."

"I brought you directions. Will you be the one to do the cataloging?"

Sally looked at him in astonishment.

"Yes, why?"

"Well, you seem very young to me for that..."

"But you're not too young to be on the management board of a large industrial group," offset Sally, slightly indignant.

She scolded herself, because it wasn't the first time that this prejudice had been brought to her. But if it was now brought by someone who couldn't have been more than five years ahead of her, it would upset her. David Carson's features, however, remained relaxed.

Her reply didn't seem to bother him at all. He bent over and said: "If I were not the nephew of the company's founder, who died without children, I certainly would not be so far yet. I am well aware of that," he explained shrugging his shoulders. His openness was disarming.

"I didn't mean it like that," Sally took it back.

"It's not what I think, Miss Rogers, it's my aunt. I have nothing against your age - but knowing my aunt, she will react quite sceptically..."

"Well, Mr Jackson's health is currently incapable of carrying out such assignments," shifted Sally cool. "I guess you'll have to find another house to take over."

But David Carson just shook his head and made a throw-away gesture.

"I'm gonna be fine, Sally. That was your first name, wasn't it?"

"Yes," she said, raising her eyebrows.

"I can call you that, can't I? Because if you really do come to Carson Manor, we will of course see each other more often. Call me David."

"Whatever..."

"By the way, your accommodation's been arranged, Sally. You can stay at my aunt's country estate as long as you need for your work..."

Sally nodded. "Fine, but it won't work until next week. There is still too much work here..."

"I understand."

David rose and took her hand. He kept them longer than necessary. "I have a few things to do in Southampton today. What do you say I buy you dinner tonight?"

Sally was surprised.

She liked this man and his presence put her in a tingling tension. He was sympathetic and open and very attractive. But things went a little too fast for her and so she decided to step on the brakes.

"Today is bad," she said. "I'm afraid I have plans."

"Oh, and it can't be postponed?"

His face expressed honest regret.

She shook her head.

"No."

"Too bad. But we'll catch up, okay?"

"Who knows? Tell your aunt I'll be in Carson Manor Monday."

3

The next day Sally was expecting a bouquet of red roses at her workplace.

"A messenger brought him here," said Graves, who took care of the finances at Jackson & Graves. Graves was in his fifties and gray-haired. His smile almost went from one ear to the other.

"For me?" Sally wondered.

"It seems you have a rather romantic admirer, Miss Rogers," he joked.

"Wasn't there a map?" she asked.

"No. The messenger just dropped off the bouquet and said the flowers were for you."

"Hm", she muttered and smelled the roses. They smelled wonderful.

"Don't tell me you don't know where this is coming from," Graves was quite surprised.

Sally shrugged her shoulders.

"I can guess," she said quietly, more to herself than to Graves.

When she left Jackson & Graves around noon she experienced a surprise. She had just reached the nearby parking lot and wanted to drive by car to a restaurant in the city centre, when she saw a man in a blue convertible waving to her.

It was none other than David.

Sally pulled out the car key she had already put into the door lock of her coupe and approached David, who had since got out.

"Hello Sally," he greeted friendly with that winning smile on his lips that was just irresistible.

"Hello, David."

"So we meet again!"

"Well, it's hardly a coincidence, is it?" Sally crossed her arms in front of her chest. He shook his head.

"I've been waiting for you, Sally."

"Why?"

"To eat with you. At some point, I was sure you'd get hungry!"

"Don't tell me you're busy in Southampton again today!"

"No. This time I'm only here for you. I admit it!"

And he raised his arms.