Tales From Mysteria Falls Read Online Free Page A

answers to her questions and her dreams? Why were she and Anya so connected and so alike?
    He sighed deeply and turned away, seeming to shrink even more into his himself. “I’ve handled this all wrong. I’ve upset you.”
    “No. I just don’t understand any of this.”
    “Neither do I. But when I saw you perform seven years ago, I couldn’t walk away. After seeing her portrait, can you leave now?”
    “No,” Krisana whispered.
    “I’ll have Martha fix you a room and JD can show you the opera house. I’m sure you’ll want to see it and perhaps Anya’s ghost will speak to you while you are there as well. Everyone thinks I’m crazy.” Then on the increasing notes of another coughing attack, the man wheeled from the room.
    Anya’s ghost? The suggestion didn’t disturb her at all. She felt as if she’d been living with Anya every night in her dreams for years.

Chapter Three

    A fter Lord Daniels left her , Krisana stared at Anya’s portrait a little longer, then returned to the study. She had another cup of hot tea in an attempt to digest everything that had just happened, but wasn’t sure that it helped.
    Martha found her and escorted her to an amazingly beautiful bedroom on the second floor. Decorated in shades of burgundy, deep amber, and forest green with a balcony that overlooked the lake, it was a room fit for a queen. On tour, Krisana stayed in five star hotels. She was used to a certain level of luxury, but this place went beyond anything she could have imagined. Fresh flowers, fresh fruit, and chocolates sat waiting with bottled juices on ice. The accompanying bathroom was like a mini luxury spa. She sat on the chaise lounge for a moment and gazed across the lake, but thoughts about Anya and James/Lord Daniels bombarded her mind.
    She couldn’t relax and she couldn’t think any more about the situation. Lord Daniels seemed to think she was Anya reincarnated who’d returned to him just as he was reaching the last years of his life. How cruel could a fate be? Surely her dreams were Anya’s ghost haunting her and not memories from a past life. The portrait made her wonder, though.
    Rather than wait for someone to help her with her bags as Martha suggested, Krisana left to get them herself. She even contemplated just going ahead to the opera house alone. She had just unlocked the door to her car when she heard the sound of a motorcycle roaring up the driveway.
    She didn’t have to turn around to know that JD and his phantom bike had arrived. He halted beside her and slid off his helmet. This time the look he gave her didn’t stray from her face. “I should have recognized you, should have made the connection, but I thought he’d set this foolishness behind him seven years ago. He shouldn’t have contacted you. No matter how much he wants to believe it, you are not Anya.”
    His adamant statement came as a relief. “No. But there is a remarkable resemblance between us.”
    “Stuff like that happens over time. There are look-a-likes throughout history. You should see some of them on the Internet. I showed them to the old man, but he insisted you were different. I’m sorry. Are you going somewhere?” he asked.
    “I’d planned to get my bags from the car then go to the opera house. I’d like to see it.”
    “So you’re going through with his crazy plan?”
    “What plan is that?”
    “Putting on the opera he wrote.”
    “He didn’t mention it. What opera did he write?” She asked though she knew the answer.
    “He’ll have my head for telling you.”  He handed her his helmet and took off his jacket. “Ready to ride the Phantom, Kris?  We might as well see the opera house together since we own the damn thing.”
    She met JD’s challenging gaze and slid on his jacket, finding his irreverence to the opera house oddly refreshing. His heat and seductive scent wrapped her like a cocoon. He wore a black shirt with metal studs, similar to the studs on his black boots. His shirt hung loose