Tales From Mysteria Falls Read Online Free

incredibly rude in her reaction to his generous gift to her, demanding to see him immediately without any consideration as to what might be happening in his life. Gray hair stuck out in tuffs from beneath the black hooded jacket he wore. He had a scarf wrapped around his throat and gloves on his hands. His pale face and blue eyes were blurred by the misty oxygen. His clothes hung loosely on his slumped frame, telling her that time had stolen more than years from this once big man.
    “Anya,” he rasped, rolling across the room to her.
    Krisana’s teacup clattered to the saucer as she set both on the table before she dropped them. “My name is Krisana, Lord Daniels. I am the singer you have generously given part of an opera house to.”
    He shook his head as if confused. “Yes, of course. You just surprised me. In person you look so much like Anya, that I forgot myself for a moment.” He coughed harshly then seemed to have difficulty getting enough air into his lungs to speak. “Anya was the woman I loved many years ago and lost.”
    “Then you are James?” Krisana whispered.
    “You remember?”
    “Remember? I don’t understand what you mean.” She stood, unwilling to meet the man’s gaze. Her mind raced. Were the passionate dreams filling her nights of this man when he was younger? She walked to the velvet and gold-draped window and looked out over the lake, as flashes of her dreams of a dark-haired lover in the opera house played through her mind. She had dreamed of Anya and James, but what did that mean? It was too much to so suddenly absorb.
    “There’s a plaque at the entrance to the opera house with the name Anya and James on it. I saw it this morning. So, when you called me Anya, I assumed that meant you are James.”
    “I am Jameson. Anya called me James. Looking at you is like seeing her alive again.”
    The pain in his voice forced her to face him. “Is that why you’ve given me part of the opera house? I resemble a woman you once loved?”
    “No. Come with me,” he said, turning his chair to leave the room, not even looking back to see if she followed. At the end of the corridor, he went through double doors and she found herself in a ballroom. Across the room was a larger than life portrait of a woman dressed in white silk, seated at an ebony piano. The woman was her …but not her. The dress and the hairstyle were different. Krisana’s eyes were brown not blue and her hair a little lighter, but the features were uncannily the same.
    A vision of her swirling around the dance floor in the arms of a dark-haired man at a grand ball flashed through her mind. It wasn’t here, and it wasn’t at the opera house. The style of clothing and military uniforms placed the event in the nineteen forties. The vision was so real that she could feel the heat and press of his body against hers. She could hear his laughter and the seductive lure of his deep voice—and she could almost…almost make out his features, but the vision disappeared. She blinked, wondering what had just happened. Was it a memory of the past? Or a figment of her imagination?
    “You see how much you resemble her,” the old man said, calling her attention back to him. “She, too, was an accomplished pianist with an incomparable voice. I loved her more than life itself. As to why I’ve given half of the opera house to you and half of it to my nephew, JD is a long story.” He coughed again, so hard that he made her wince in sympathy. “I must rest now and talk later. Will you stay here? Be my guest until I can tell you my story.”
    She sucked in air. She and the blue-eyed devil on the phantom bike owned the opera house together? “I don’t know,” she whispered. She wasn’t going to let her mind go wild with Rocky Horror Picture Show scenarios, but staying here seemed too much of an intrusion. Yet, it was such a simple request from a man who was apparently very ill.
    Could she really leave this house without finding out the