 
Midnight Surrender

Midnight Surrender

A Paranormal Romance Anthology

Stories by:

Charlotte Abel

Kelly D. Cooper

Shannon Dermott

Laura A.H. Elliott

Alyssa Rose Ivy

Amy M. Jones

Airicka Phoenix

Compiled and Edited by Kris Kendall

Copyright © 2012 by Surrendered Press

This book is fictitious. All references to ancient, historical events, persons living or dead, locations and places are used in a fictitious manner. Any other names, characters, incidents and places are derived from the author's own imagination. Similarities to persons living or dead, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. Each story is owned by the original author and has been included in this compilation with their express permission. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing, October 2012

ISBN 9781301752041 
First A Crescent Chronicles Story By Alyssa Rose Ivy 1

The Gathering By Charlotte Abel 25

Down the Rabbit Hole By Charlotte Abel 49

Prelude to Mercy By Shannon Dermott 78

Intentions By Airicka Phoenix 110

Wanting By Airicka Phoenix 148

Shadow Slayer The Lost Excerpt By Laura A. H. Elliott 176

Tunnel of Love (or Heartbreak) By Amy Maurer Jones 186

Dance by Moonlight By Kelly D. Cooper 213
First  
A Crescent Chronicles Story  
By Alyssa Rose Ivy

"It looks like tonight's activity just arrived." Jared's comment made me snap my head up from the bar. The only activities my friend cared about involved girls—he had my attention.

It didn't take long to see what caught his eye. She was gorgeous—especially those long tan legs that were shown off nicely in the short yellow dress she wore. Slim but clearly athletic, I could already imagine how much fun she'd be.

I finished off my Jack and Coke, tossing the empty glass down on the mahogany bar. The new guy who bought the place had gone to town on the hunk of wood. I doubted he had any idea that the hotel he'd purchased housed a hell of a lot more than rooms, food, and booze.

The girl walked around the lobby like she owned the place, her eyes taking in every detail. Finally they found me, and I got a look at her bright green eyes. I gave her my trademark smile; it worked every time. She smiled back, and I nodded, telling her to come over. I thought she was going to, until she shook her head and kept on walking. She didn't even give me a second glance. What the hell?

I was barely aware of Jared talking. "I call dibs on the blonde."

"Blonde? She was a brunette."

My other friend Owen laughed. "There were two girls, Levi."

"Oh, I only noticed the one."

Jared smirked. "You seriously didn't notice that blonde? That top didn't leave much to the imagination."

"Did you see where they went?" I really didn't care about the blonde, but I had to find Miss Legs. I couldn't believe she'd blown me off like that. I was right—she was going to be a lot of fun.

"They're probably in the court yard." Owen yawned. He seriously worried me sometimes. Some girl dumped him, and he'd been practically a monk since. The guy needed to get laid; Jared and I were going to have to try harder to get him out there.

"I could really use a night with that one," I said to Owen. Our taste in women had always been more similar. Jared only went for busty blondes, where as I wanted the brunettes with the long legs. A nice chest didn't hurt—not at all, but a short skirt on the right girl could drive me crazy.

"I noticed her." Owen's small smile would have been enough for me to let him have her usually, but this one was for me.

"I've got to find her. She might even be worth a second night."

Owen snorted. "Real nice."

Jared finished his drink. "We'll find them, but we need to get moving. Your dad's going to get pissed if we're late."

"Yeah, I know."

I took one last glance around to make sure she hadn't changed her mind and come back, before I walked over to the elevator. I smirked at the weird bellboy that was always staring at us. He took a step back and lowered his eyes.

Once the doors shut, I inserted the key and pushed the button for the basement.

"What do you think he wants us for this time?" Jared asked, leaning back against the wall.

"Like I'd know, but he didn't sound happy." I only listened to one message, but I had a feeling it was the latest of many.

"I guess we'll find out."

The elevator doors opened, depositing us into a room that would be dark for the average person, but we had no problem seeing. I pushed open the doors, and we headed toward my Dad's office, which was located just off the main chamber.

I knocked on the door loudly. "Who is it?" Dad called.

I knocked one last time just to be a pain. "Who do you think?"

"Come in, Levi."

I walked in, Owen and Jared following behind.

"Close the door."

Jared slammed the door harder than he needed to. The action wasn't lost on my dad. His glare had Jared standing up straighter.

Dad didn't miss a beat. "You missed last night's council meeting."

"What are you talking about? We just met last week."

"I called an emergency meeting last night."

Shit. I knew there were more messages. "Yeah, well, I didn't know."

"Is that all you have to say for yourself? Twenty-two years old, and you behave like a child."

My dad never minced words, but he usually kept his cool. Things had to be serious for him to be flipping out on me in front of my friends.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"It better not." His icy stare left little doubt he was serious.

"What did you discuss?" I shifted uneasily from foot to foot.

"The Blackwells. There's talk of a takeover attempt."

"Like those Yankees could do anything," Jared spat. He never kept his mouth shut, not even in front of my father.

"Has your father taught you nothing, Jared? The second you start underestimating your opponent you've lost your advantage."

"Yes, Sir." Mentioning Jared's father usually had that effect. His dad was essentially the head of security for my family's business. We'd spent many nights getting wasted and talking about how much we hated our fathers. Neither of us would ever live up to their expectations.

"So what's the plan?" I slunk down in a high back chair, this could take a while.

"The plan is that you grow up and find a girl."

"This again? I'm not ready. Just because you and Mom got married at twenty doesn't mean I have to do it."

"You're not twenty. You graduate college in a year; it's time to stop chasing after everything in a skirt. Find someone worth your time."

"What does this have to do with the takeover attempt?"

"Don't play stupid."

"No one cares whether I have a mate. They know I can have a kid, it's not a big deal."

"Everyone cares. Everyone." He cracked his knuckles; he only did that when he was particularly worried.

"Well, I'll take a mate when I meet the right girl." I leaned back in my chair and stretched out my legs. Getting angry wasn't going to help the situation, but I was tired of this bullshit.

"You can't find her unless you look."

"He does plenty of looking," Owen mumbled under his breath.

"Looking for a mate is different from looking for a girl to jump in bed with. I'd have thought you'd understand that, Owen." Dad really liked to get you where it hurt. Owen definitely got that.

"You told me I have until graduation, that's months from now." I planned to enjoy every last day of my freedom until then, starting with tonight. I needed to get out of the meeting so I could find the girl.

"Building a relationship takes time. Do you expect to meet someone and bind yourself to her the next day? Don't wait too long."

Jared sniggered.

"I'm tasking you two with making sure it happens. We all have a lot to lose if Levi can't keep his pants on long enough to find a worthy girl."

"Absolutely, sir." Of course Owen agreed immediately.

"Can we please talk about the real plan? The one that doesn't involve my sex life?"

"All we can do is stay alert and make sure our own ranks are loyal. If things come to blow, we can't have any mutiny from within."

"I'm guessing my dad's already on that?" Jared asked.

"Yes. But I expect you all to do your part."

"Will do, Sir," Jared replied. Even he knew that pushing my Dad could have dire consequences.

"Good. Now get out of here. I have better things to do today."

"Bye Dad, great talking to you." I got the hell out of his office and back to the elevator. I was angry, and I could feel the transformation wanting to happen. I relaxed and pushed it back. I had better things to think about.

***

"So where do you think those girls are?" I knew I was being ridiculous. There were plenty of attractive girls around, but there was something about her that got under my skin. She wouldn't be escaping from me again so easily.

Jared tossed me a beer from the fridge. We were back in our apartment hanging out. "It's their first night in the French Quarter, they'll be at the Cat's Meow. They always go to the Cat's Meow."

"No way. She's not the type." I tried to picture her at a place like that. No, she was classier. She'd probably be looking for a lounge or something.

"Not the type? I guarantee they'll be there. I bet you fifty they'll sing karaoke."

Owen walked in, dumping three po-boys on the table. "Who? Those girls from the hotel? Yeah, I'm in on this. My bet is Girl's Just Want to Have Fun. They always sing that."

"No, I bet they're more the Like a Virgin types," Jared threw in.

"I'm game. But let's make it a hundred. I haven't washed either of you out in a while." Things were always more fun when there was money involved.

They both laughed. "All right, a hundred."

The door burst open again, and the flash of red hair made it immediately obvious who'd arrived.

"Have you ever heard of knocking?" Owen snapped at his little sister Hailey.

"If you have a problem with it, lock the door." She swiped a Coke from the fridge.

"Is there a reason you're gracing us with your presence?" I'd known Hailey my whole life and she was like a little sister—the annoying, won't ever leave you alone type. She was only three years younger than us, but sometimes it seemed like ten.

"Yeah. I need Owen to talk to Dad."

"I doubt I'm going to, but about what?" Owen answered, finishing off his sandwich.

"He's making me request J.L. as a dorm, there is no way I'm living in an all-girls dorm!"

We all laughed. I still couldn't believe she was starting at Tulane in the fall. How was she old enough for college?

"Come on, this is so not fair."

"You can't be surprised." Owen tried to keep a straight face.

"So he caught me making out with a guy? It's not like I was sleeping with him!"

Owen cringed, probably mentally picturing his sister hooking up with someone. "Hailey, Dad's always been protective. Inviting a guy over when they weren't home—not the smartest decision—but how could you be stupid enough to get caught? You always wait until you know they can't possibly come back." Owen said it snidely, but I think he actually felt bad. Their parents definitely treated them differently.

"So you really won't talk to him?" she whined.

"Living in a girl's dorm isn't that bad. It's nicer than a lot of the others."

"I guess." She slumped down on a couch. "I hope I at least get a cool roommate."

"Me too, because then maybe you won't show up here uninvited all the time." I couldn't resist. She was so easy to annoy.

"Arrgh! You guys are useless. Thanks for nothing." She stormed out just the way she arrived.

Owen got up, pushing back his chair. "Seriously, how am I related to her?"

Jared collected our plates and brought them to the sink. No one would believe how much of a neat freak he was. "I don't know, she's hot and you're ugly as shit." He grinned.

"Don't even start."

I laughed. My roommates were definitely entertaining.

***

"You better be ready to pay up," Owen taunted. We'd spent the better part of an hour searching the Quarter. After striking out at a few places, I didn't want to admit that my friends were probably right. I finally gave in and we walked into the Cat's Meow. It had been a while since I'd dragged myself into that place. It's not like it was much worse than the rest of the Bourbon Street bars, but you also had to suffer through horrible singing. The current song was no exception.

I looked over toward the stage and sure enough there they were, singing Girls Just Want to Have Fun. I had really misread her, or maybe it was the friend who convinced her to come. "Fine, I'll get you your money later."

It's not like I cared about two hundred bucks. The important part was that I'd found the girl. Mm yes, and she was wearing a short skirt. So maybe singing wasn't her strong suit, but she looked good doing it.

I bought a beer and went ahead and got a shot for her. I had a feeling she was going to need it when she was done. There was something about her expression that said she wasn't having as much fun as she was pretending to. But I was. Hell, I was having a great time. That jean skirt was so short, I got a real nice view.

"Are you sure they're legal?" Leave it to Owen to ask such a dumb question.

"Yeah, they've got to be eighteen."

"You sure? Do you really want to mess with jail bait?"

"Shit Owen, they're not kids. They got in here didn't they?" Jared argued.

I tried to ignore them. I was still enjoying my view.

"They could have fakes. But it's your problem, not mine."

"Exactly, go find your own. Or wait, you don't do girls anymore."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Both of you shut up." The song ended and I watched as the girls jumped off the stage. I waited until they separated to make my move.

She was definitely flustered, not even paying attention to where she was going.

"You look like you could use this." I pushed the shot into her hand.

She looked up at me, and I saw the recognition in her eyes. She remembered me. She nodded and then downed the shot.

"What was that?" She coughed a little. I probably could have gotten her something tamer, but what would have been the fun in that?

"A jaeger shot." I laughed. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah. I can't believe I did that." She looked back over her shoulder, like she was making sure the stage was still there.

"It really wasn't so bad. It was more entertaining than if Cyndi Lauper performed it herself." Much more entertaining. I looked at her up close for the first time. She was even hotter. I finally tore my eyes from her legs and checked out the rest of her. She had a nicer chest than I originally thought. I watched as a few drops of sweat ran down from her neck and disappeared into her tank top.

"So, thanks for the shot, but I need to find my friend."

"Hey, you can't run off on me again." If she thought she was getting away this time, she had another thing coming. She was mine. "Besides, your friend appears to be unavailable."

Surprisingly, Jared didn't already have her in a corner somewhere. She was occupied by some guy who looked like he was in town for a conference. I knew that type. He was looking to score, have a story to run home with. The blonde was drunk enough he might get lucky.

"Run off on you again? That implies we have run into each other before."

So she was going to play that game?

"I saw you at the Crescent City Hotel this afternoon, but you took off before I could say hello." I leaned in closer, using the blaring music as an excuse, even though I could hear perfectly well. Damn, she even smelled good. I didn't recognize the perfume—but it was light, the right kind.

"Oh, I didn't notice you."

It was time to act interested in her life. "You here for vacation?"

"I'm here for work actually, at the hotel."

"Are you around for the whole summer then?" Not the tourist I expected. If the sex was as good as I knew it would be, a longer stay could be convenient.

"Yeah, I'm here until I start school in the fall." So Owen wasn't completely off. She was probably fresh out of high school.

"All right, so where are you going to school?"

"Princeton."

"Nice." Smart girls weren't necessarily bad, as long as they didn't overanalyze everything.

"You in school?"

"Yeah, I'm going to be a senior at Tulane." Maybe she'd loosen up a little if she realized I was in school. Some girls were like that. They assumed you were a good guy if you were in college. It made no sense, but it usually worked.

"Oh, so you live here?"

"Born and raised."

"I didn't think locals hung out at places like this."

"We don't usually, but they're great spots to meet girls from out of town." Or more specifically, it was a good spot to find her.

She shook her head. "Ah, so you're one of them."

"One of who?" I tried to figure out what group she was throwing me in with.

"The type to prey on innocent tourists."

"Innocent tourists? You make me sound like the big bad wolf."

"And you're not?"

A wolf? As if she was dealing with something that tame. "Only if you're Red Riding Hood." I'd pretend to be a wolf if it involved her.

"Wow, that's original," she said snidely, but her face gave her away. She was definitely interested. "Well, nice talking to you."

What? Was she seriously trying to blow me off again? I had to act fast. "Hey, I didn't even get your name yet."

"Allie."

"Is that short for Allison?" I needed to keep her talking.

"Yes, but no one calls me Allison."

"I'm Levi." I held out my hand.

"Is that short for something?" She gave me her hand and it felt nice in mine. I didn't want to end the contact, I liked touching her, but I finally dropped it.

"Leviathan. But you can call me whatever you like." Hell she could call me a wolf if she was doing it in my bed.

"Well, nice to meet you." She actually started to walk away. What the hell was going on?

"Wow, it's hotel bar guy." The blonde swayed as she walked over drunkenly. Either she was a light weight or she'd had more to drink than Allie. Allie—it was nice to have a name.

"So you did notice me." I leaned in closer to Allie again, if she'd noticed me enough to talk to her friend, I was good to go. She was just playing hard to get. I didn't mind a good game of chase.

"So, does this mean you changed your mind?" the blonde asked.

"Changed her mind? About what?" Had she talked about me more?

"Allie's sworn off men, or so she claims," Blondie said while taking a swig from her beer. If she drank much more she'd pass out before anyone got her home.

"Is that so?" What did that mean exactly? I'd have thought she was into girls, but I wasn't getting that vibe.

"Yes, not that it's any of your business."

"Any particular reason why?" I was intrigued. Had someone hurt her? I felt an unfamiliar feeling of protectiveness take hold. I shook it off.

"None that I wish to explain."

"She thinks it's because she has bad luck with relationships, but really it's because no one is good enough for her," Blondie tattled. Allie's eyes got all big—I got myself ready for a cat fight.

But then Allie relaxed her shoulders. "I think I need another drink."

"My pleasure. What can I get you?"

"Surprise me."

"I will." I winked at her. "I'm good at surprises."

I needed to find the perfect drink—Allie seemed like the kind of girl who liked them sweet and strong. I ordered her something different—my own invention. I called it the Oasis. I heard the girls continuing to argue. One of the many benefits of enhanced hearing was eavesdropping in on conversations. The blonde's name was Jess and she was really egging Allie on.

As I returned to the girls, Jared caught my eye. He and Owen were sitting at a table. He nodded, wanting us to come over. Normally I'd have made him get off his ass, but I wanted Allie's attention, which meant getting her friend fixated on someone else.

"A few of my friends are sitting over there, care to join us?"

Jess glanced over and answered first. "Why not?" Her words were casual but it was obvious she was interested in one of my friends. I hoped it was Owen—that would make tonight interesting.

Allie still hadn't said anything, so I looked to her. She finally nodded.

I made the introductions. "Girls, this is Jared and Owen. And this is Allie and Jess." I realized afterwards that they might have thought it was odd that I knew Jess' name, but they didn't seem to notice.

"Well, hello there." Jared grinned. He looked over Allie, but then moved his attention to Jess.

Owen just nodded. "Hey." He smiled again, but I didn't worry about it. He knew not to get in the way of what I wanted.

Jess sat down next to Jared, he must have been the one who caught her eye. I'd hoped she'd keep Owen occupied so he'd stop looking at Allie, but it didn't actually matter.

I put down our drinks and pulled out a chair for Allie, careful to make sure she sat in the one closest to the wall. I wanted her attention all to myself.

"You can't really mean to punish the entire male gender for the errors of a few."

I watched her pick up her drink and taste it. She liked it, and I liked her smile. It went all the way to her eyes.

"Because it would be really unfair to do that."

"Um, can we please talk about something else?" She turned away from me, and I saw her looking at Owen. Not what I was hoping for.

"Sure, for now. What made you decide to take the job at the hotel?"

She turned towards me again. "Oh, I needed a job and my dad was able to get it for me."

"Because Allie's dad is super rich and bought the place." Whoah. This was the new owner's daughter? I wasn't sure what to make of the information at first. "What? It's true." I must have missed an exchange between the girls. Was she trying to keep it a secret? Most girls would brag about something like that.

"Your dad bought the Crescent City Hotel?" Jared asked, sitting up straighter. He seriously needed to keep his cool.

"Yeah. The deal went through earlier this year." She downed her drink. Something about this conversation was stressing her out. I wanted to find out what it was. I doubted she knew anything about the hotel. It was something else.

I wasn't about to ask her about it. I'd just have to find out another way. She set down her empty glass.

"I guess you liked it?"

"Maybe a little. What was it?"

"Want another?"

"No, don't worry about it. I can get one for myself if you'll tell me what it is." I could practically see the wheels turning in her head. She was the type of girl who worried about guys buying her drinks—afraid that meant she owed them something. Such bullshit, buying a drink for a girl was just an opening... where it went after that depended on her.

"I'm getting up anyway. Besides, if you don't know what it is you will have to let me keep buying them for you." I enjoyed the look of annoyance that flashed across her face.

"Don't worry, she's not always so uptight." Jess' voice surprised me as I ordered some more drinks. I hadn't expected Jared and Jess to follow me. That left Allie alone with Owen—not the plan—definitely not the plan.

"I'm not worried about it," I said offhandedly, wanting the bartender to move faster. This was taking far too long. Owen was laughing. What could she be saying? At least she didn't look as amused.

"Levi's good at, uh, breaking through tough exteriors." Jared ordered them a couple of shots.

"She's worth it," Jess said as I walked away.

"It looked like you two were having a good conversation. Did I miss anything?" I shot Owen an annoyed look. He was seriously beginning to piss me off.

"Nothing worth repeating."

Owen smiled. "Well, Allie was telling me that she isn't interested in you."

Hmm, well at least they were talking about me.

I leaned in close to her, letting her know what I thought of the statement. "It's because she's sworn off men. But I think I'll just have to be the exception."

She took a few large sips of the second drink I'd gotten her. "What in the world would make you think that you would be an exception?"

"One, you're attracted to me and two, I can be very persistent."

"I am not attracted to you!"

"Like hell you're not," Jess said before bursting into laughter. She hadn't even sat down yet.

"You know there could be a few females alive that are not into you Levi," Jared mocked. I was ready to knock that smirk off his face.

"It's always a possibility, but that's not the case this time. She likes me, she just won't admit it." I scooted my chair closer to her.

She sighed and closed her eyes. I actually felt a little bad. She seemed pretty stressed out. I'd love to do something about that... I put an arm around her shoulder, it felt nice, natural.

I moved close enough that I could kiss her, but I resisted. It wasn't time yet. She moved to turn away but I caught her chin, making her look up at me. "Stop looking away. I love green eyes."

"Does that line usually work for you?"

"Usually. I'm guessing it's not going to work tonight."

"Not a chance."

"I'll just have to get more creative." As frustrating as her resistance was, it was also a nice change of pace. It would make finally getting her all the more worth it.

"You do that." Her look was teasing—she was definitely challenging me.

"So, what do you think of New Orleans so far?" Owen asked her, having to pull her attention away again.

Jess answered. "It's been fantastic. It's so awesome to get away and meet new people."

"And what about you, Allie?" I asked, finding I actually cared about her answer.

"Well, considering we've been here less than twenty-four hours, it's hard to have much of an impression, but I like it so far."

"You'll have to keep me posted as you have more time to form an opinion."

"I'll be sure to keep you updated."

"You girls want to see the rest of the Quarter?" Jared asked.

"Yes!" Jess squeaked. "We haven't seen anything but here and the hotel."

"You interested?" I whispered in Allie's ear. I liked how it made her shiver a little. I definitely had an effect on her.

"Sure. Why not?" She finished off her drink and stood up. She tugged down on her skirt. I had to resist the urge to reach out and stop her. The skirt was fine the way it was.

I put an arm around her, leading her out. I shot Owen a backwards glance to let him know to stay away. "I guarantee you're going to love New Orleans."

She slipped away from me. I held in a frustrated sigh.

"Is that right?" She sounded distracted and I noticed her staring at her friend and Jared. Was she worried about her?

We walked down St. Peter's Street, and crossed over into Jackson Square. Allie seemed impressed by it. I noticed her eyeing the wrought iron railings. That was the second time I'd noticed her checking out architecture. Maybe we had that interest in common.

We maneuvered through the square, past the usual crowd of musicians and artists showing off their work.

"Care to have your fortune read?" a palm reader called out.

"No thanks." Allie waved her off.

"Are you sure you don't want a glimpse into your future?"

"I prefer surprises." Her response seemed at odds with how uptight she seemed. I sensed there was a lot more to her that I still wasn't seeing.

"Same here," Jess agreed. "This is too cool. It might be even better than Washington Square Park."

Washington Square Park? So they were New Yorkers.

"Of course this is just where all the tourists hang out. There are much cooler places, hon. Maybe I'll show you sometime," Jared crooned.

"Like where, your apartment?" Allie raised an eyebrow. She had a nice sense of humor.

"Why, you want to see my place?" he threw back at her.

"In your dreams."

I laughed. She had some nerve. I couldn't resist touching her. I came up from behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. She fit perfectly. "Would you change your mind about that if you knew I was his roommate?"

"Why would that change my mind?" She pushed away. I reluctantly released her.

I held back, maybe I needed to give her space so she'd come to me.

I tried to pay attention to everything else going on but then, of course, Owen had to go talk to her again.

I heard them talking about the crow on the fence. She seemed to find it creepy. I wondered what she'd think if she knew what I was. When I heard them talking about going home, I had to intervene. She was thanking Owen for giving her a heads up.

"The heads up on what?"

"I was simply suggesting she pry Jess away from Jared if she wants to get her home tonight."

"What's the hurry? The night is young." I smiled at her, resisting the urge to punch Owen. If I wasn't stronger, my eyes would have changed.

"We have our first day of work tomorrow."

"Your first day of work at your father's hotel. Can't you skip out?" I was definitely not ready to say goodnight, and it was looking unlikely she was coming home with me.

"No! I am not missing my first day of work. I'm not like that."

If I couldn't have her that night, I'd just have to try again. "Really? Maybe I can learn more about you tomorrow night? Maybe over dinner?"

"Not a chance."

"Oh, that's right; you think you've sworn off men."

She pretended to ignore me, but I saw the tiny curl of her lips. "Jess, let's go!"

"Now? Seriously?" Jess whined.

"I'm sure you can meet up with your friend another time."

Her friend? Allie had a bit of edge didn't she?

"What's the rush all of a sudden?" Jared asked, glaring at Allie.

"Owen decided to point out the late hour to her." I knew Jared would appreciate it as much as I did.

"What the hell, man?" Jared lunged at Owen; his eyes turning black. I hoped the girls didn't notice, and I put myself between my friends. We'd have to settle this later.

"Let it go, Jared. I'm sure we'll have plenty of opportunities to see them again. We'll walk you girls home." I wasn't happy to see Allie leave, but I also wanted another chance—it was time to cut our losses and regroup.

She waved. "Goodnight."

"I'll be seeing you," I said before walking away. I'm sure she had no clue how true my words were—there wasn't a chance in the world I was letting this girl go.

Learn more about Alyssa Rose Ivy and The Crescent Chronicles at: www.alyssaroseivy.com

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# The Gathering: Prequel to Enchantment of The Channie Series  
By Charlotte Abel

Channie bolted upright, smacking her forehead against the pine log above her bed. She groaned and ran her fingers over the wet, sticky lump already forming over her eyebrow. Blood. Yuck. She considered using a healing spell, but with her luck, she'd wind up with more bumps than a hedge-apple.

What time was it, anyway?

Moonlight streamed in through the window, casting long shadows across the braided rug on the floor — which meant it had to be well past midnight. What had startled her awake?

The triplets were cuddled up against Abby's side like a litter of pups, sound asleep.

The pine tree outside their window swayed back and forth as if rocked by a storm. Something was in that tree. Plink, plink-plink. And something was tossing pinecones into the loft.

Channie's heart stopped. She reached out with her magic and felt the presence of another mage. Confident that Momma's keep-away spells would protect her, Channie probed a little deeper to read his energy field.

He raised his shield and blocked her, but not before Channie sensed his strongest emotions. He was excited and... hopeful? Not exactly what she'd expect from an intruder. And no thief would announce his presence by chucking pine cones through the window. Whoever he was; he wanted to wake her up.

Or maybe he wanted to wake up Abby. He could even be the trips' daddy. The thought spread a grin across Channie's face. If she could discover that little secret, she'd never have to do dishes again. Only an idiot would pass up such a perfect opportunity for blackmail.

Channie kept to the shadows as she made her way to the window. She had to see his face before he saw hers. The low angle of the moon striped the landscape with bands of light and shadow — perfect cover for lurking.

Fog swirled over the ground and flowed down the hollow like a river of milk. Channie strained her ears but didn't hear so much as a single cricket. Well, two can play at this game. She picked a pine cone up off the floor and threw it at the tree.

Branches shifted and swayed, but Channie couldn't see a darn thing.

A dull thud drew her gaze to the ground. Whatever had been hiding in the tree was now in the back of Daddy's old Chevy truck.

That vehicle had been propped up on cement blocks since before Channie was old enough to crawl under it for afternoon naps. All sorts of critters had nested in it over the years, but that was no varmint creeping onto the truck's cab. Channie craned her neck to get a better look, but all she could see was a vague shape... until he sprang straight at her.

An instinctive burst of defensive magic shot out of Channie's power-well, surrounding her with a protective wall of energy.

She covered her mouth with both hands to stifle a scream. She recognized Hunter Feenie's mop of light blond hair, shining silver-blue in the moonlight. She slid her hands to the base of her throat and lowered her shield.

Hunter grabbed the splintered windowsill, dug his toes into the chinks between the logs and clung to the side of the cabin like a tick on a dog. "Gimme a hand."

Channie leaned out the window and grabbed the straps of Hunter's overalls while he adjusted his grip. The scent of pine sap clung to his skin. How long had he been hiding in that tree? Had he been spying on her? Watching her sleep? As soon as Channie was sure he wouldn't fall into Momma's protection spells, she let go.

Hunter poked his head inside the loft and flashed a crooked grin at her — as if climbing through her window in the middle of the night was the most natural thing in the world.

"Hey, girl."

Channie folded her arms across her chest. "How the heck did you get past Momma's protection spells?"

No one but a family member could get within ten feet of the magically enhanced shrubs surrounding the cabin. Not without getting hit with a bolt of pure energy.

Hunter smirked at Channie. "Move over. Let me in."

"Are you crazy? My folks'll kill you."

"Your Daddy's out runnin' moonshine with mine. They won't be back till sunrise. And I ain't afraid of your momma."

"Well, I am. What do you want?"

Hunter pulled a sliver out of his palm with his teeth. "Are you gonna let me in or not? I cain't hang on much longer."

"That's a lie."

The Feenies had more kids than food so they were all a little skinny, but they were stronger than they looked. They were also ornery and tough as nails. Hunter could hang from her windowsill all night if he had to. But he was making too much noise.

Channie shushed him then whispered, "Meet me at the sycamore tree behind the kitchen garden. And stay outta sight."

Hunter tucked his knees against his chest then let go with one hand, twisting around so he faced the ground.

"Hunter? What're you doing?"

He let go and pushed off from the cabin, arching his back, arms and legs spread eagled behind him.

Channie's heart leapt into her throat. She tried to grab him, but all she got was air. "No!"

Sparks exploded when Hunter hit Momma's protection spells. But instead of getting fried to a crisp — he bounced — skimming across the surface; like a stone skipping across a crawdad pond.

"Wow." Channie's jaw dropped.

Hunter used his shield and the energy from the protection spells to propel himself through the air.

He bounced on his belly three times then swung his hips forward and flipped over backwards. He landed feet first on the roof of the Chevy then rebounded into the pine tree.

"Good lord!" How'd he do that?

Hunter dropped from the branches of the still swaying pine tree, waved at her then turned and trotted off.

Channie waited until he disappeared into the shadows then crept down the ladder to the main floor. She took three steps then froze when a floorboard creaked. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed Momma hadn't heard her.

What was she thinking — sneaking out to meet a boy in the middle of the night? What if Momma woke up and decided to check on the trips and found Channie missing? It'd be better to wake Momma up right now and tell her she was going to the privy so she wouldn't come looking for her.

She stood outside Momma and Daddy's bedroom until her heart rate returned to normal, then opened the door.

A stinging spell set Channie's skin on fire. She cried out and knocked over the potted fern holding the curse, cutting off the flow of magic.

"Enchantment? Is that you? Oh, baby girl, I'm so sorry. I set that spell for your Daddy and fell asleep. What are you doing up in the middle of the night?"

Channie panted until the pain subsided then blinked the tears out of her eyes. "I just wanted to let you know I'm going to use the privy and... it might be awhile."

"I told you kids to lay off those dried apricots." Momma sat up and swung her legs out of bed. "I'm all out of slippery elm, but I could brew you some raspberry leaf tea."

"It's not that bad." Channie took a deep breath and focused on calming herself. She'd have a hard time explaining why she was so nervous if Momma decided to scan her. "I didn't want you to worry about me if you got up and found me missing, that's all."

The lie pricked Channie's conscience but since she'd already been hit with a stinging spell, she figured she'd paid for it in advance.

Momma yawned and tucked her feet back under the covers. "Come get me if you don't feel better before morning."

~***~

Channie wished she'd thought this through a little better and thrown a pair of jeans on under her gown or at least brushed the tangles out of her hair. She combed her fingers through the worst of it as she walked towards the privy. When she was certain Momma couldn't see her, Channie gathered the loose fabric of her gown into her arms and left the path.

Bluestem grass, heavy with dew, tickled the backs of her knees. A mosquito buzzed past her ear. Channie swatted at it then cast a bug-be-gone spell on herself. She should've done that before ever stepping outside. Hopefully, the chiggers weren't out yet. Channie's legs itched just thinking about it.

When she found Hunter leaning against the sycamore tree, one bare foot propped against the trunk, Channie's stomach muscles tightened. And it had nothing to do with dried apricots.

Hunter'd grown since the last time she'd seen him. A lot. His shoulders were broader too.

Channie wanted to ask him how he'd learned to bounce across a protection spell on his shield; but he was cocky enough without her acting all googley-eyed.

She let go of her gown and jammed her fists on her hips, trying her best to look annoyed instead of impressed. "What's so important it couldn't wait 'till morning?"

"What happened?" Hunter pushed away from the tree and traced the bruise on Channie's forehead.

Startled by the tenderness of his touch, Channie turned her head. "It's nothing. Just a bruise."

"I thought you were apprenticed to Ms. Wisdom. How come you didn't heal it?"

"I'm not allowed to use healing magic until I pass my herbology exams."

"You better get someone to heal it for you soon or it'll leave a scar."

This time, when Hunter touched her, Channie held perfectly still. She didn't even breathe.

He brushed his fingertips across her brow and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Are you gonna be at Spring Gathering?"

Channie nodded.

Hunter edged closer. He trailed the back of his fingers down Channie's jaw, leaving behind a path of fire and goosebumps.

Channie's pulse thundered behind her ears as Hunter leaned in. He whispered her name — her real name. "Enchantment."

She gasped and jerked away from Hunter when she realized her power-name was influencing him. She pulled her magic back inside her body and hoped he hadn't noticed.

Hunter blinked and shook his head, as if coming out of a trance. He rocked back on his heels and jammed his fists in his pockets.

Most of the time, Channie loved her power-name, and the sound of it on Hunter's lips warmed her heart. But right now, she didn't know which was more embarrassing — the fact that she wasn't in control of it; or that Hunter thought she was trying to enchant him.

Channie squirmed as Hunter chewed on his bottom lip and studied her. She wished she knew what he was thinking. Should she try to explain and apologize or just keep her mouth shut?

Hunter lowered his gaze to his feet and flicked a pebble across the ground with his big toe. "When you get to The Gathering, tell Lovie Schmidt that you want to talk to her in private — and do it in front of her momma."

"What?" Lovie Schmidt was not supposed to be a part of this conversation.

"Once you're outta sight, tell her to meet me inside O'Riley's barn."

Anger lit up Channie's energy field like a hay field on fire. "You've got some nerve dragging me out here in the middle of the night! If you think I'm gonna cover for you so you can sneak off with somebody else you better think again!"

"Whoa." Hunter's eyes widened as his jaw dropped. After a moment, a grin spread across his face. "You're jealous."

"I am not!"

"You're mad because I asked you to help me sneak off with somebody else. So, that means—"

"It don't mean a damn thing!" Channie whirled around and stomped back to the cabin with Hunter's laughter ringing in her ears.

~***~

The next morning, Channie woke up with a pounding headache. One look in the mirror was all it took to convince her she needed a master healer. She didn't want to risk Momma trying to heal it and leaving a scar. So she wrote a note on the chalkboard in the kitchen then rode her bike to Aunt Wisdom's place.

Channie found her in the greenhouse, grinding herbs with a mortar and pestle.

"Good lord, Channie. What happened?"

"I bumped my head on that old pine support beam again."

"Come here." Aunt Wisdom shifted from favorite aunt to master healer. She set the mortar and pestle on the work table then cast a cleansing spell on her hands. "Let's have a look."

Aunt Wisdom tilted Channie's head from side to side as she examined the cut. She pursed her lips and frowned. "Have a seat. I'll go get my supplies."

Channie hopped her butt up onto the table then picked up the mortar and pestle. Might as well make herself useful. She swung her bare feet back and forth as she worked. The sharp, clean scent of lavender tickled Channie's nose. She rubbed the tip of it with the back of her hand to keep from sneezing.

When Aunt Wisdom returned, she poured a quarter cup of magically enhanced disinfectant into a glass bowl and added a handful of cotton balls. "This might sting a little."

"Wait!" Channie hugged the mortar and pestle to her chest and leaned away from Aunt Wisdom. "Just clean it with regular witch hazel. I don't need the enhanced stuff."

"If this were a fresh wound, I might consider it. But it's already scabbed over."

Healing Magic — whether administered directly from a healer's hands or through enhanced herbal remedies — was painful. The more powerful the magic, the greater the pain.

As a first year apprentice, it was Channie's job to enhance the plants. She knew exactly how much magic was in that tincture. 'Sting a little' nothing. This was gonna hurt like hell.

Channie flinched every time Aunt Wisdom dabbed at the cut. "Ouch!"

"Keep grinding that lavender. This'll hurt less if you focus on something else."

"It'd hurt a whole lot less if you'd just use regular disinfectant." Channie knew she was acting like a child, but she hated pain and Aunt Wisdom was taking forever.

When she finished, Aunt Wisdom patted Channie's knee. "That wasn't so bad now, was it?"

Actually, it was, but Channie didn't ride her bike all the way over here just to have her cut disinfected. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "Finish it."

"Are you sure? It'll heal just fine if you keep it clean."

Channie gritted her teeth and nodded. "I don't want any hint of a scar."

Aunt Wisdom didn't waste any time. She held her hand over the lump on Channie's head and closed her eyes. "On the count of three. One... two... three."

White-hot pain flashed across Channie's forehead. It was quicker than a heart-beat, but hurt worse than ten of Momma's stinging-spells combined. Channie blinked away tears.

"That bump on your noggin was more severe than usual. You must have smacked that beam pretty hard. Did something startle you awake?"

Channie gasped. There was no way Aunt Wisdom knew about Hunter's visit last night. She winced, hoping Aunt Wisdom would think her gasp was one of pain instead of guilt. "It wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't hit my head on a knot."

"It's been four years since your daddy built that loft. There's no excuse for him not finishing it."

"I'm gonna whittle it off myself when I get home."

Aunt Wisdom smiled and winked at Channie. "Just carve a heart and a couple of random initials into the knot. I guarantee your daddy will have it ground down to nothing before sunset."

"Nobody's gonna believe I have a boyfriend."

Aunt Wisdom's smile disappeared. She sighed and shook her head. "We've already talked about this."

"Please, I'll do anything you ask. I'll clean out your chicken coop every day for a year. Just boost my hormone levels a little. I'm sick and tired of being flatter'n a pancake."

"You're just a late bloomer, that's all. Be patient. Your time will come."

"But Spring Gathering is only two weeks away."

Aunt Wisdom put her hand on Channie's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "There are consequences for tampering with nature."

Channie dropped her chin and let her shoulders slump, rounding her back. "There's consequences for looking like a bean pole, too."

"Listen to me." Aunt Wisdom cupped Channie's face in her palms and tilted her head up. "You are a beautiful young woman with your whole life ahead of you."

Channie twisted her head out of Aunt Wisdom's hands. "All the best boys will be spoken for before I ever get a chance."

"I won't risk your health just so you can fill out a new dress."

"I ain't getting no new dress. Momma's taking one of Abby's in for me so it won't fall off." Channie dropped her gaze to the crushed gravel floor of the greenhouse. "Not that anyone would notice."

"What's it going to take to get you to stop using double negatives and saying 'ain't?'" Aunt Wisdom took the mortar and pestle from Channie then nodded towards the house. "Go grab some shoes out of my closet."

"What for?"

"We're going to town."

~***~

Channie ran her hands over the front of her new dress as she examined herself in the mirror. She still wished Aunt Wisdom would have cast a growth spell on her, but the new padded bra helped. She wasn't nearly as curvy as Lovie Schmidt, but it was a definite improvement.

"Channie, get down here. We're all waitin' on you."

"Yes sir. Be right there." Channie wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and tied the ends then hiked her skirt up to climb down the ladder out of the loft.

Abby curled her lip and narrowed her eyes at Channie. "I ain't never got a new dress and new shoes on the same day."

Daddy turned away from his shaving mirror and glared at Abby. "She works for Wisdom. What she chooses to give Channie ain't none of your business."

Abby snorted and folded her arms across her chest. "But, it ain't fair." The whiney sound of her voice was worse than fingernails on a chalkboard.

Daddy's face bloomed scarlet. "Abundance, that's enough."

Everyone froze, even the trips. When Daddy used your power-name, you knew you were in trouble. Channie started counting silently in her head and prayed she'd get to ten without Daddy taking off his belt...eight...nine...ten.

Daddy exhaled through pursed lips then rubbed the side of his face with his palm. "I'll be in the bus."

Everyone else heaved a sigh of relief and went back to whatever they were doing.

Momma grabbed Zeal with one hand then licked her thumb and rubbed at the corner of his mouth. "What in tarnation have you been eating?"

"Nuffin." He squirmed out of her grasp and made a dash for the door with Coco hot on his heels.

Savvy tugged on Momma's dress and batted his feather-duster eyelashes at her. "It's booberry jam. Coco shared wif Zeal but not me."

Momma held Savvy's chubby cheeks between her palms and kissed his forehead. She narrowed her eyes at Abby. "That jam was on the top shelf. You've got to do a better job of watching these babies. Especially Courage and Zeal."

Abby rolled her eyes. "You're the one that gave 'em their power-names, don't blame me."

Channie ducked outside before she got caught in the middle of Momma and Abby's argument. She rarely agreed with anything Abby said, but she was right about the trips' power-names.

Daddy laid on the horn then stuck his head out the window of their old VW bus. "I'm leaving! Y'all better git your bee-hinds in this here vehicle right now or plan on walking."

~***~

By the time they got to the gathering, most of the food was gone. Channie wasn't surprised. Most folks' pantries were bare by the end of winter. You came to Spring Gathering for the games, music and dancing, not the food.

Momma gave orders as she spread their quilt out next to Old Pappy and Aunt Wisdom. "I expect everyone to stay in the clearing. Don't go wandering off into the woods. Abby, don't let them babies outta your sight for one second, you hear me, girl?"

Abby rolled her eyes. "Yes, ma'am."

"Channie, take the food to the community table and if you see so much as a single fly, recharge the bug-be-gone spells."

"For the whole table?" The darn thing was made out of heavy cedar planks and spanned the north end of the clearing. If she protected the entire table, not only would it drain most of her magic, it'd leave her too tired for dancing.

Momma raised her eyebrows and put her hands on her hips. "You got a problem with that?"

"No, ma'am." Channie waited until she was out of range then cast a bug-be-gone spell on herself. She kept her gaze lowered to the ground to be sure she didn't see any damn flies.

A line formed behind Channie as she wove her way through the crowd.

Momma fed the family biscuits and gravy before they left so Channie wasn't hungry. She set Momma's squirrel casserole on the table and scooted it to the side so the folks behind her could dig in. But she hovered over the apricot pie and scanned the crowd, looking for Hunter.

The pie would be gone in a matter of seconds, so she cut a piece and put it on her plate. Her mouth watered but this piece was for Hunter. Where the hell was he?

Hunter's daddy waved her over. "I'll give you a catfish for that there piece of pie."

"Sorry, it's spoken for." Channie ducked her head to hide the blush heating her cheeks.

Mr. Feenie rubbed his chin and smirked at her. "You wouldn't be planning to waste that on one of my boys, now would you?"

"Uh..."

He laughed and patted her back then pointed towards a crowd of young men. "They're all over yonder, watching Hunter and Shep arm wrestle."

Channie's face went from warm to hot. "Thank you, sir."

Hunter had looked mighty good when they met in the middle of the night under the sycamore tree. He looked even better in broad daylight.

At the last gathering, Hunter's hand-me-down dress shirt had hung off his shoulders and covered all but the tips of his fingers. Now, it strained across the muscles of his upper body. The cuffs ended a good three inches above his wrists.

Shep was eleven months older than Hunter, but you wouldn't know it by looking at the two boys. Shep scrunched his face into a grimace and ground his teeth. His whole body trembled.

Veins stood out on the backs of Hunter's hand, but his arm didn't so much as twitch. A smattering of fine blond hair dusted his upper lip and sparkled in the sunlight. He grinned at the crowd, obviously enjoying all the attention.

When his gaze met Channie's, she lifted the plate to show him the pie, and mouthed, "For you."

Shep slammed Hunter's arm onto the stump they were using as a table then raised his fists over his head with a shout of triumph.

Hunter grabbed Shep's arm. "I was distracted by Channie's pie. I wanna rematch."

Shep laughed and shook his head. "I'm gonna go get me a piece before it's all gone."

"Too late." Channie had just come from the table. "This is the last piece and I got it for Hunter."

Shep elbowed Hunter out of the way and reached for the plate. "To the victor go the spoils."

"You don't want this." Channie dodged his grasp and tapped into her power-name, but Shep got his shield up in time to repel her persuasive magic.

"Oh yes I do." He made another lunge towards Channie.

Hunter stiff-armed him with one hand and reached for the plate with the other. "You keep away from Channie."

Shep arched an eyebrow as his gaze darted back and forth between Channie and Hunter. "I thought you and Lovie—"

"Uh-uh." Hunter shook his head. It was hard to understand him with his mouth full of pie, but it sounded like he said, 'Lovie's just for fun.'

Shep snorted and rolled his eyes. "Does her daddy know?"

Hunter's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glared at Shep. "You keep your big mouth shut, Shepherd Feenie."

Shep smirked and held his hand out, palm up. "The only way to shut my mouth is to fill it with pie."

Hunter pressed his lips together so hard a rim of white encircled his mouth, but he handed the plate to his brother.

Shep shoved the rest of the pie into his mouth. His eyelids fluttered closed as he groaned and smacked his lips.

Channie glared at him. "If you're done with my plate, I'd like to have it back, now."

He licked it like a dog then shoved it at her. "Thank's for the pie, Miss Enchantment. It was delicious."

Channie crossed her arms over her padded chest and stepped back. "You are not welcome. And you can just go put that plate in my momma's basket. I'm not touching it after you slobbered all over it."

Hunter took Channie's hand and led her away from the group of laughing boys. "It was right nice of you to bring me that piece of pie."

"I'm sorry your jerk of a brother stole it."

"Me too. But I'm in enough trouble with Lovie's daddy. I don't need Shep spreading rumors."

"What's going on with you two, anyway?" Channie licked her suddenly dry lips. "What'd you mean 'Lovie's just for fun?'"

Hunter dropped Channie's hand and shot her a sideways glance then scratched the back of his head. "There's two kinds of girls. The kind you have fun with and the kind you marry."

Channie untied her shawl and let the ends hang loose. She pulled her shoulders back, pushing her padded chest forward just a bit. "Why can't a girl be both?"

"It don't work that way." Hunter's eyebrows arched as his gaze traveled the length of Channie's body. "Though lord knows, I wish it did."

Channie grabbed the ends of her shawl but before she could tie them, Hunter stepped in front of her and took both her hands. "I shouldn't have said that. You're definitely the marrying kind of girl."

Channie's heart leapt into her throat. Was Hunter declaring his intentions? They were a little young to get engaged, but Momma and Daddy had gotten married when they were sixteen.

Hunter caressed the back of Channie's hands with his thumbs. "And someday—"

A shrill whistle interrupted Hunter. Someone yelled, "Grab a partner and line up!"

Channie recognized "Fire on the Mountain" even before the fiddler joined in. Hunter grabbed her around the waist and ran with her to line up in front of the band.

All the Feenie boys were light on their feet, but Hunter was by far the best dancer in the entire Ozark region. He whirled and twirled Channie 'till she was so dizzy she could barely stand. His feet were a blur as he beat out a rhythm on the ground that had people dropping out to watch. When the music stopped, he kissed the back of Channie's hand, thanked her for the dance... and disappeared.

~***~

An hour later, Channie still hadn't seen hide nor hair of Hunter, but she spotted Lovie Schmidt's family. Lovie was not with them.

When Momma started in on Abby for losing track of the trips, Channie jumped to her feet. "I'll go look for 'em."

She headed straight for the barn.

Lovie's high-pitched giggle boiled Channie's blood. But it was the husky sound of Hunter's voice that drove a knife through her heart.

"Pleeease, Lovie. You're making me crazy."

Channie froze then took a shaky breath and peeked through a gap between the rotting boards of the barn door. Dust motes swirled in the golden hued light of the setting sun.

Hunter pressed Lovie against the back wall. He held her wrists above her head with one hand and tangled the other in her hair.

Lovie's lips parted as she lifted her chin.

Hunter kissed his way up her throat to her mouth.

Channie turned and fled into the lengthening shadows of the woods. Brambles snagged the fabric of her new dress and clawed at her skin; but she barely felt it. Why would Hunter practically propose to her then run off and do that with Lovie?

~***~

"Channie?" Aunt Wisdom's voice drifted through the woods. "Where are you, sweetheart?"

Channie swiped the tears out of her eyes and turned towards the sound of Aunt Wisdom's voice. She reached out with her magic. "Over here."

The soft glow of a kerosene lantern wove a trail of light between the trees.

Aunt Wisdom set the lantern on the ground then wrapped her arms around Channie. "He's not worth it."

Channie pulled back and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Aunt Wisdom brushed the hair off Channie's forehead. "That Feenie boy does not deserve you."

"What makes you think this is about Hunter?" There was no point denying she was upset, but she might be able to salvage a scrap of pride.

"Well, my first clue was the way you lit up while you were dancing with him."

"You read my energy field?" Channie pulled away from Aunt Wisdom.

"I didn't have to. You were glowing like a sky full of lightening bugs."

Channie buried her face in her hands and groaned. "Everyone knows?" Could this get any more humiliating?

Aunt Wisdom tugged Channie's hands away from her face. "No one's judging you, sweetheart. But that Feenie boy didn't do himself any favors tonight."

"Why doesn't Hunter like me the way he likes Lovie Schmidt?"

Aunt Wisdom gripped Channie's chin between her thumb and index finger then tilted her face up. "You do not want any boy to like you the way they all like Lovie Schmidt."

"But it hurts." Channie pressed her hands against her chest, as if that could ease the pain. "It feels like Hunter ripped my heart out and stomped on it."

Aunt Wisdom hugged her again. "I know baby, I know." She kissed the top of Channie's head. "Someday, you're going to find an honorable man. A man willing to place your happiness above his own. A man willing to sacrifice everything for your benefit. A man willing to lay down his very life, to protect you."

"Where am I gonna find a man like that?"

"I have no idea." Aunt Wisdom picked up her lantern then wrapped an arm around Channie's waist. She guided her back towards the clearing — taking a large detour away from the barn. "But I do know this much... he won't be from around here."

Learn more about Charlotte Abel and The Channie Series at: www.CharlotteAbel.com

Enchantment is available now

# Down the Rabbit Hole: Prequel to River's Recruit of The Sanctuary Series  
By Charlotte Abel

Jonathan glanced at the address scribbled on the back of Dr. Harrison's card then at the tiny cottage across the street. What sort of therapist worked out of a house painted eggplant purple? The kind that claimed they could cure phantom pain with hypnosis; that's what kind. What was he expecting? A high-rise office building?

He gritted his teeth against the pins and needles sensation in his left hand — or what his nervous system still believed was his left hand. Pain meds helped, but not enough. That's why he was here, knocking on the Pepto-Bismol pink door of Bluestar Morninglory's Holistic House of Healing.

The door creaked open. A black and white striped cat darted between Jonathan's feet. He spun around and grabbed it with his right hand. The crazy cat dug its claws into Jonathan's forearm. He gritted his teeth and turned around to find a middle-aged woman standing in the doorway. She looked pretty good for an old broad. Her faded jeans and old Bolder-Boulder t-shirt from 2009 hugged her curvy body, but her tanned-leather face and grey streaked hair kept Jonathan's libido in check.

She took the cat and nuzzled it against her neck. "Thanks."

Jonathan rubbed his arm and glared at the cat. "You should keep an eye on that thing. He won't last long outside with the coyotes."

"What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for a hypnotherapist."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

Jonathan held out his left arm and rotated his myoelectric hand. The tiny gears and servos of the robotic device hummed as he manipulated it. "The phantom pain never goes away. My doc said hypnosis might help."

The woman's eyes softened as she lifted her gaze from Jonathan's prosthesis to his face. "All right. Come on in. But next time, call first and make an appointment."

"I can come back later if it's more convenient."

"You're here now. My name's Bluestar, but everyone calls me Blue." She motioned for Jonathan to enter with a sweep of her arm. "The first session is free, after that, it's a hundred dollars an hour."

Jonathan doubted he'd be back as he followed Blue into a small, windowless room illuminated by candlelight. Thin ribbons of smoke curled from the tips of incense sticks. The cloyingly sweet scent of patchouli gave Jonathan an instant headache. Floor to ceiling shelves held an assortment of rocks, crystals and... animal bones? Maybe the cat would be safer outside with the coyotes.

And maybe the main qualification for a hypnotherapist shouldn't be how close they were to the Dillon Dam Brewery. Jonathan's mouth watered as he thought of the giant cheeseburger waiting for him when he was done with this woo-woo business.

Blue nodded at a worn out recliner. "Have a seat and get comfortable while I go brew you some tea."

"Uh... that's okay. I'm not much of a tea drinker." The pins and needles sensation in Jonathan's missing hand intensified. In a few minutes it would be the smashing-his-hand-in-a-vise sensation. Phantom pain, my ass. There's nothing phantom about it.

"It's all natural, brewed from organic plants I grow myself." When Blue returned, she handed Jonathan a steaming mug. "It'll help you relax... which will help with the pain even before I get you into a trance."

Jonathan took a sip. It tasted like mint and dirt but with a ton of honey. He took another sip. Blue sat on one of those inflatable exercise balls and rocked back and forth as she talked about the coming ski season. Jonathan hadn't quite finished the tea when his eyes drifted shut. He blinked them open and shook his head. Blue wasn't kidding when she said the tea would help him relax. "What sort of plants did you say were in this?"

"I didn't say." Blue took the cup from Jonathan's hand. A trail of pink light followed her every motion. "It's a secret blend."

Jonathan had never experimented with hallucinogenic drugs, but he'd had enough super-powerful pain meds in the hospital to recognize the effect. "Did you use psychedelic mushrooms or something?"

"Listen to the sound of my voice. Let it carry you back to the day you lost your hand."

The smell of gasoline, melting rubber and dust burned Jonathan's sinuses. Searing pain shot from his missing left hand up the length of his arm. Every muscle in his upper body contracted. He arched his back, pulling his shoulders towards his ears.

Blue's voice sounded as if she were speaking from inside a tunnel. "Calm down. Go to a happier time. Relax. Breathe with me. In... out..."

Jonathan didn't want to go back to a happier time, he wanted to get the hell out of Blue's creepy house. But thanks to her magic mushroom tea he could barely keep his eyes open, much less get out of the chair. Jonathan knew he was in trouble when he couldn't force himself to breathe out of sync with Blue's commands.

"Good job, Jonathan. Close your eyes. Let your mind wander, as you drift into the past. Where are you? What do you see, hear, smell..."

"Lasagna. I smell lasagna. Mom's cooking it for Franklin." The double-edged sword of grief and guilt plunged into Jonathan's heart. He tried to ignore it, but it was buried to the hilt. He dug his fingers into the recliner's arm rest and tried to open his eyes but they might as well have been glued shut.

Blue's monotone voice, soft as dandelion fluff, invaded Jonathan's mind. "Relax. Let your emotions wash over you as you travel back in time. Embrace the pain, let it heal you."

"No." He'd had enough of the 'whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger' bullshit from the army shrinks.

A rainbow of multi-colored lights exploded behind Jonathan's eyelids as he floated on a patchouli scented cloud. "This is nice."

He heard an echo of quiet laughter, then watched in awe as sound waves rippled the air around him. And then he fell... spinning, turning, around and around... down... down... down.

Jonathan's bare feet sank into soft, warm carpet. What happened to his shoes? He opened his eyes and wiggled his toes. He recognized the royal blue pile of the area rug in front of Franklin's bed immediately.

"What do you want, Jonathan?"

"Frankie?" Franklin was alive — sitting at his desk, arms crossed over his chest, frowning. But he wasn't frowning at Jonathan. He followed Franklin's gaze and saw a younger version of himself. Unscarred. No prosthesis. Two hands.

Jonathan ignored his doppelganger and wrapped his arms around Franklin. But they passed right through him, leaving behind a trail of blue and purple light. He might as well have been a ghost. Am I dead?

The room slipped sideways. An invisible force pulled Jonathan forward and shoved him into his other body; his perfect body, with two hands.

He wanted something... He wanted Franklin to do something...

Jonathan ran his left hand over the shiny gold figure perched on top of Franklin's latest trophy. It was almost as tall as he was.

Franklin didn't even look up. "Stop molesting my trophy and get out of my room."

Jonathan leaned over Franklin's shoulder to see what he was reading. "Lord of the Rings? Again? Ya know, Bro, they made that into a movie. You don't have to read it."

"What do you want, Jonathan?"

"Can I borrow a shirt and a pair of jeans?"

Franklin put a finger in the middle of the page, then twisted sideways to look at Jonathan. "Why? You hate my clothes."

Jonathan knew better than to lie to Franklin. "You know why."

"Then the answer is no."

"Come on, Frankie, what's the point of being identical twins if we can't use it to our advantage?"

"What advantage? Why do you want to be me?" Franklin narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. "Or is there some reason you don't want to be you?"

"I need to talk to Naomi."

"So?"

"She won't answer my calls or texts or let me inside her house. She won't even look at me." Jonathan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand. "She un-friended me on Facebook."

"Not my problem."

"Come on Frankie. I'd do it for you."

"How is pretending to be me going to change anything?"

"There's a party out at the mine tonight. If I can just talk to her—"

The wheels of Franklin's chair clattered across the hardwood floor as he pushed away from his desk. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back. "You mean seduce her."

"No. I mean talk to her. I just need her to understand how that whole thing with Harleigh was nothing but a mistake. I was so drunk I didn't know what I was doing."

"That's no excuse and you know it."

"If that doesn't work, I'll do the concerned brother routine... Please, just talk to him. He may be suicidal."

"You're pathetic, but you aren't suicidal."

"I can't live without Naomi."

"That would be easier to believe if you hadn't boinked her best friend."

"I didn't boink Harleigh. I just made out with her. And like I told you... I was drunk."

"And like I told you... that's no excuse." Franklin turned back to his book. "Besides, Naomi's going out with Rich Blanchard now."

Rich was a senior and the state heavy-weight wrestling champion. He had the strength, thick skull and temperament of a silver-back gorilla, but only half the intelligence. There was no way Naomi actually liked him. "She's just trying to make me jealous."

"Probably. She doesn't care who she hurts as long as she gets her way. Find someone else — half the girls at school are already in love with you."

True, but Jonathan didn't want anyone else. He didn't want to start over either. It had taken him two months to get his hands under Naomi's shirt and another three weeks before she let him unhook her bra. If he hadn't messed up with Harleigh, he was sure that he and Naomi would have had sex by now.

Jonathan would have just grabbed a pair of Franklin's baggy jeans and one of his nerdy polo shirts out of the laundry without asking if the neat freak hadn't already put his clothes away. He hopped onto Franklin's bed and bounced on his toes. He couldn't think unless he was in motion and he definitely needed to think of a new plan...

Jonathan dropped to his knees, then bounced back to his feet. "I could talk to Heather while I'm impersonating you. Ask her to homecoming or something."

It was ridiculous the way Franklin turned bright red and stuttered every time he tried to talk to the girl. There was nothing special about Heather Compton. She wasn't ugly or anything, but she wasn't exactly hot either — not like Naomi.

Franklin slammed his book shut. "You can't hit on Naomi and Heather at the same party."

He had a point. Jonathan stopped bouncing. "Unless... you go to the party and pretend to be me. Lay low until I ask Heather out for you and convince Naomi to talk to me. Once I'm done, we'll sneak inside the mine and change clothes. You can hang out with Heather while I make up with Naomi in the back of the Rover."

The corners of Franklin's mouth did that subtle little twitchy thing that meant he was going to start stuttering. No one besides Jonathan ever noticed the twitch. They'd both stuttered as little kids. Jonathan out grew it, Franklin didn't. Stress made it worse, especially around girls. "The f-first t-time I open m-m-my m-mouth, everyone is g-going to know I'm n-not you."

"You don't have to talk. Just grab a beer, park your butt against a tree and act broken hearted. I guarantee at least one hot chick is going to try to console you by cramming her tongue down your throat. Just don't let Naomi see you. I'm already in enough trouble."

Frankie wrinkled his nose and frowned. "I'm not going to start drinking just so I can make out with some random fan-girl of yours. And get off my bed."

Jonathan grinned and started bouncing again. Heather was the perfect bait. All Jonathan had to do was set the hook and reel him in. "Just smile and nod your head while they jabber at you. It'll be good practice for when you go out with Heather."

"Do you really think H-Heather w-would go out w-with me?"

"Why wouldn't she? You're almost as good-looking as I am."

Franklin rolled his eyes but his grin was so wide it looked like it hurt. "We're identical, you moron."

There was a small parking lot at the trailhead that meandered past the old McKnight mine, but it was already full. Jonathan didn't want to park on the side of the road so he pulled in behind Rich Blanchard's souped up Dodge Ram and cut the engine.

"You can't park here. You're blocking three cars."

Jonathan set the emergency brake. "I can park wherever the hell I want."

"You know who owns that truck, right?"

"Quit whining. Rich isn't going to want to leave before we do. In fact, he'll probably get so drunk he won't be able to find his truck before daylight."

"And if you want anyone to believe you're me; quit saying 'hell.' I don't swear."

"Okay, Mom... it's no big f—"

"Hey!"

"—freakin' deal."

Jonathan laughed and hopped out of the Land Rover, slamming the door behind him. "Keep your chin up and head straight for the keg—"

"I already told you, I'm not going to drink."

"Then grab a beer out of one of the coolers—"

"I said I'm not—"

"Calm down. I didn't say you had to drink it. Just hold it and pretend to take a sip occasionally. Can you do that?" Jonathan's patience was wearing thin.

"Okay, but remember the only kind of beer you can drink is root beer."

Jonathan was definitely going to need a couple of real beers if he was going to get through the next hour without popping Franklin in the mouth. He'd just have to be discreet about it.

About twenty people milled around the bonfire in front of the mine. Another half-dozen or so jostled each other to get to the keg. Music blared from someone's portable audio system. It was amazing what you could do with a car battery, an amp and a couple of speakers. The thump, thump of the heavy bass reverberating in Jonathan's gut lifted his mood. He had to remind himself not to move to the beat as they walked up the trail. Franklin could dance as good as anyone, but he never did it in public.

That needed to change. Jonathan punched Franklin's shoulder. "Loosen up, bro. Try to relax. You're supposed to be excited to be here."

Franklin huffed and rolled his eyes.

They were about halfway between the parking lot and the bonfire when Naomi and her current top three friends spilled out of her Prius. Great. How was he supposed to talk to her with those three hanging around? They openly dissed him in front of Naomi, then came on to him behind her back.

Jonathan turned to Franklin, hoping he could enlist his help to distract Naomi's friends for a few minutes, but he should have known better.

Franklin was already twitching. Jonathan lowered his voice and spoke out of the side of his mouth. "Go grab a beer and pretend to drink it... now." He stepped in front of Naomi then dropped his gaze to his feet. Franklin would never have the courage for direct eye contact with any girl, much less a hottie like Naomi. "H-h-hello, N-Naomi. H-how are y-y-you?"

She stopped and did a little double-take. "Franklin?"

Jonathan chanced a quick glance at Naomi's face. She curled her upper lip back so far it practically touched her nose. What the hell was her problem?

"C-can I t-talk t-to you for a m-minute?"

She made that half-grunt-half-coughing noise in the back of her throat that she usually reserved for thespians and members of the chess club. "What are you doing here?"

"Jonathan's been so depressed since you b-broke up with him. If you w-would j-just t-talk to him—"

Naomi interrupted him with a cruel laugh. It was nothing like the musical giggle that always warmed Jonathan's heart. She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her hand and sneered at him. "How the hell did that cheating, scumbag brother of yours ever talk you into this? Did he threaten to st-st-steal your t-t-teddy b-b-bear?"

Jonathan's world shattered. No one made fun of Franklin's stutter. No one. Not even hot ex-girlfriends. Did she treat Franklin like this whenever Jonathan wasn't around? He glanced over his shoulder. Franklin was leaning against a tree with a goofy grin on his face, staring into the fire. If he'd heard Naomi's mockery, it would have devastated him.

She needed to be taken down a notch or two. And Jonathan knew just how to do it. "Jonathan told me I could have one of his rejects tonight. I was hoping Harleigh would show up, but since she didn't, I guess you'll do." He sighed and grabbed her hand. "Come on. I have a sleeping bag in the back of the Rover."

Naomi jumped back and hissed like an angry cat. Her friends giggled and snorted behind their hands. She was still spluttering incoherently when Jonathan turned his back on her and walked away. It was time to sneak into the mine, snag a couple of beers, and light up the blunt hidden in his pocket.

When Jonathan came out of the mine, he found Franklin in the middle of a crowd of drunks, chugging beer out of a clear plastic cup. Jonathan should have been happy Frankie was loosening up, but it pissed him off. Franklin was the good twin. He was on track to serve a mission, go to BYU, meet a nice girl, marry her in the temple and start popping out kids as fast as they could make 'em.

Franklin crushed his empty cup then belched half the alphabet. The idiots around him howled with laughter, but Jonathan didn't think it was funny. In fact, it killed his buzz. Was he that disgusting of an animal at parties? It was something to think about, but right now, he needed to save Franklin's sorry ass before he did something really stupid.

By the time Jonathan worked his way through the crowd, Franklin had another cup of beer in his hand.

"I think you've had enough to drink." Jonathan tried to pry Franklin's fingers off the cup without spilling it all over both of them.

"Oh, I don't think so Frankie, I haven't had nearly enough. In fact, I think it's high time you joined me." Franklin laughed and punched Jonathan's shoulder. "High time... get it?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Jonathan grabbed Franklin's arm and whispered, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Hey! Tyler." Franklin leaned back and lifted his hand in the air, index finger extended, as if he were trying to signal a waiter. "Get a brewski for my alter-ego here, would ya?"

Jonathan didn't know what had changed Franklin's mind about drinking, but he wasn't about to ruin his immaculate reputation by joining him. Besides, Franklin was already plastered, so Jonathan would have to drive them home. "Are you too drunk to remember my vow to never so much as taste alcohol?"

Franklin swayed on his feet. "You need to lighten up. Live a little before you die."

Jonathan grabbed Franklin's shoulders to keep him from stumbling into the fire. "How many beers have you had since we got here?"

"Hmm... I'm not shlure." Frankie turned to Tyler and cocked his head to the side. "How many beers have I drunk...? Drank...? Drink-ded...?"

Tyler held up three fingers and shrugged.

Jonathan rolled his eyes. He would not be this plastered after just three beers.

Franklin belched a cloud of beer-scented gas in Jonathan's face then giggled like a girl.

Jonathan wanted to bitch-slap him until he followed Franklin's gaze to the crushed cans of non-alcoholic beer hidden in the side pocket of his suede jacket. Wow. This was just an act? Jonathan leaned in and whispered, "You're not really drunk?"

"Of course not."

The man deserved an Oscar for his role as Drunk and Obnoxious Jonathan McKnight.

"If you spill even one drop of that nasty fake beer on my coat, I'll kill you."

Tyler coughed into his fist and said, "Heather's here."

The sound of bell-like laughter floated up from the trail.

Franklin froze then started backing away before the girls were even in view. "I'm gonna puke."

He bolted into the bushes like a frightened deer.

Heather jerked her head back then squinted her eyes and leaned forward. "Was that Franklin McKnight? Is he drunk?"

Time to intervene. "H-h-hey H-Heather, I'd like t-to talk to you as s-soon as I m-make sure J-Jonathan's okay. He's had a little too m-m-much to drink."

Jonathan held his breath to make his face turn red and hoped that would convince Heather that she had the boys mixed up.

"Of course, do you need any help?"

Tyler smacked Jonathan on the back. "I've got it covered. You go talk to Heather while I make sure your drunken brother doesn't fall down a mine shaft or something."

"Um... okay." Jonathan swallowed loudly and rubbed his palms on his jeans as if they were sweaty. Franklin wasn't the only one that could act. "D-do you w-wanna g-g-go somewhere t-to talk?"

Heather lowered her gaze and peeked at him from under thick lashes. She was actually sort of cute. Jonathan grabbed her hand and led her back down the trail, away from the fire and the crowd. He didn't want an audience in case this blew up in his face, so he waited until they were out of everyone's line of sight to turn his full attention to Heather.

She stared at their linked hands and grinned. "So... what's on your mind, Franklin?"

"I... uh... yeah, well... I was w-wondering if you w-would go to H-h-homecoming with me?" Jonathan's voice cracked when he said 'me' but Heather didn't seem to notice — or maybe she just didn't care. The way her eyes lit up when she smiled changed her whole face. Why hadn't he noticed her before? Maybe because she'd never smiled at him. She was more than just cute. She was adorable. And perfect for Franklin.

She stepped forward and put one trembling hand on Jonathan's chest. "I would love to go with you."

Jonathan smiled, flashing his dimples.

Heather rose up on her toes, slipped her hand behind his neck and tugged.

What do I do? If I pull back, it'll hurt her feelings. But I can't kiss her. She's Franklin's girl.

Heather made the decision for both of them. Jonathan kept his mouth closed and his eyes open. The snap of twig alerted him that someone was close.

He pulled away just as Franklin stepped around the bend. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to. The look of betrayal in his eyes said it all. He shook his head then stepped off the path, giving Jonathan and Heather a wide berth.

Jonathan grabbed Franklin's shoulder as he passed. "Wait. I can explain."

Frankie jerked out of Jonathan's grasp then ran down the trail.

"Where do you think you're going?" There was nothing down there but the parking lot. Franklin wouldn't leave without him. Would he? Of course he would. Jonathan didn't like leaving Heather alone on the trail, but he needed to straighten things out with Franklin.

She should be fine as long as she went back to the group around the fire.

"Heather, sweetheart, I need you to go back to the party and find your friends. Stay together and stay away from Rich and his group. I need to see what's up with that crazy brother of mine, but I'll be right back."

He'd forgotten to stutter, but Heather just nodded her head and started walking back up the trail.

Jonathan was about halfway to the parking lot when the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Two guys were pulling a very drunk girl off the trail into the bushes. Not cool. Jonathan had no idea who the guys were, but either they'd heard about the party and decided to crash it or they just stumbled on to it and decided to take advantage of the opportunity — and the intoxicated girl they were half-carrying-half-dragging between them.

Jonathan didn't know her name, but he'd seen her at school. She was only a freshman. What sort of perv takes advantage of a drunk kid?

"Where do you guys think you're going with the jailbait?"

"None of your business, punk."

Since there were two of them and only one of him, Jonathan struck without warning or mercy. A gut-busting sidekick dropped the strutting peacock on his right to his knees. Before he hit the ground, Jonathan threw a right cross to the jaw of his scrawny companion. It snapped the creep's head back a good six inches. But it only made him mad. Never judge a book by its cover — or a potential rapist by his size.

The guy danced around with his elbows tucked in and his fists in front of his face like a boxer. He obviously knew how to fight. Jonathan didn't mess around. He knocked the guy out cold with a round-house kick to the side of his head.

The perv was lucky Jonathan and Franklin had switched identities. If he'd been wearing his hiking boots instead of Franklin's running shoes, the blow might have killed him.

The girl he'd just rescued was too drunk to walk. Jonathan wanted to get to Franklin, but he couldn't just leave her lying by the side of the trail. He picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder and carried her back to the bonfire. She thanked him by puking down the back of Franklin's parka.

When he got back to the party, Jonathan lowered the girl to the ground, yanked his arms out of Franklin's ruined parka and turned it inside out. He used it to position the girls head so she wouldn't drown in her own puke if she threw up again. He didn't see Heather, so he grabbed the first halfway sober girl he saw and enlisted her help.

"Hey, Carrie, do you know this chick?"

"Sort of. She's just a freshman. What's she doing here?"

"Getting herself raped."

Carrie's eyes widened and her mouth formed a little "O" before she frowned.

"A couple of guys were hauling her into the bushes. I roughed 'em up pretty good, so I don't think they're going to be a problem, but can you keep an eye on her? Make sure she doesn't wander off. I gotta go find my brother."

Jonathan suddenly felt light-headed as the last of the adrenaline from the fight left his body. He sagged onto the log next to Carrie and grinned when his car keys poked him in the butt. Franklin wasn't going anywhere without him.

"Sure. But, you might want to find Jonathan before Richard finds you."

Jonathan had almost forgotten about the whole switched identity thing. "Why?"

Carrie made a sour-lemon face then cocked an eyebrow. "Did you or did you not ask Naomi Huffman to have sex with you in the back of the Rover?"

"Oh." A sudden headache tightened Jonathan's scalp. He'd forgotten about that too. What a mess.

"I didn't ask Naomi to have sex. I only implied it."

Carrie snickered and nudged his shoulder. "You're actually pretty funny when you loosen up a little. Anyway... Naomi told everyone that Jonathan put you up to it—told you she was easy or something. She cried on Richard's shoulder until he got so wound up he wants to kill both of you."

"Shit. I really fu — messed it up this time."

Carrie's eyebrows shot into her hairline.

He'd already tarnished Franklin's reputation when he put Naomi in her place. Dropping the F-bomb wasn't going to help. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

When Jonathan leaned forward to stand up, Carrie grabbed his hand. "If you ever get over your crush on Heather Compton, give me a call."

"How'd you know about that?"

Carrie snorted and spread her fingers, releasing his hand. "Everyone knows you've been crushing on that girl since the day she moved here. You should just tell her, ya know? She likes you too. Or at least she did. She's pretty pissed off about you propositioning Naomi."

Jonathan swore again, but didn't bother to apologize this time.

"Like I said, if things don't work out with Heather, give me a call."

"Jonathan's single. Do you want me to tell him to give you call?"

"Hell no. I have too much self-respect to go out with that two-timing man-whore."

Jonathan cringed then tried to hide it behind a shy smile. "Okay then. I guess I better go check on the man-whore... try to keep him out of trouble."

Carrie snorted. "Good luck with that."

Jonathan found Richard, and everyone else, crowded around the entrance to the mine. He shifted his weight to the balls of his feet and tapped Rich on the shoulder. "I hear you've been looking for me."

Instead of taking a swing at him, Richard tugged at his collar and cleared his throat. "Your brother went inside the mine. We've been yelling at him for like, ten minutes, but he won't come out."

"Well, quit yelling. You're going to trigger a cave in." Most of the timbers and support beams inside the mine were over a hundred and fifty years old.

Franklin knew better than to go inside the mine. Never mind the fact that Jonathan went in there all the time to access his stash of pot and beer. He knew what he was doing and never went so far in that he lost sight of the entrance. He prayed Frankie was just screwing with him. Trying to get back at him for kissing Heather.

He frowned at Rich. "You're sure he went inside? This isn't just some prank?"

There were too many solemn faces and wide-eyed stares for it to be a prank.

Rich shook his head. "It's no joke."

"Has anyone called 911, yet?"

Naomi extricated herself from Rich's arms. "You have to find him, Franklin. What if he's hurt?"

A premonition of disaster gnawed at Jonathan's gut, but he couldn't just sit and wait for help to arrive while Frankie was in danger. The longer he was inside the mine, the more likely something bad would happen; if it hadn't already.

"Any of you guys have a flashlight? Or a rope?" Jonathan had both in the Rover, but all he had on him was his cell phone and the light from the screen wasn't enough.

"I got a lighter."

Jonathan didn't even try to guess which moron came up with that bright idea. He rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone. The faint glow flickered and shimmied across the rubble and splintered beams that blocked the tunnel. When he aimed it between the cracks, the oily darkness inside the mine swallowed the light before it touched the ground.

"Here, take this." Someone handed him an LED flashlight and a climbing rope. Jonathan muttered a quick "thanks," and turned his back on the crowd. He focused his breath to calm himself and crawled over the pile of rubble. A broken beam scraped his back and left behind a swath of splinters. He really wished that girl hadn't thrown up on Franklin's parka. The deeper he went, the colder he got.

Five minutes later, he rounded a bend and found Franklin sitting on the ground, knees bent, with his head on his forearms.

He sighed, but didn't look up. "Go to hell, Jonathan."

"I'm sure I will, but I'd rather it not be tonight. Come on, let's get outta here."

"You can have anyone you want, why'd you have to go after Heather?"

"I didn't—"

Franklin's head jerked up. "I saw you kiss her."

"No, Franklin. You did not see me kiss Heather. She kissed me but only because she thought I was you!"

"It should have been me." Franklin dropped his head back onto his forearms.

"Shoulda, coulda, woulda. You're such an idiot! You could be kissing her right now. But you'll never get to kiss anyone if we die in here. You know it's not safe this far back in the tunnels."

Jonathan reached out towards Franklin. His left arm was still extended when the support beam collapsed.

Hot, searing pain shot up Jonathan's arm from his left hand into his armpit. The agony lifted his mind out of the trance just enough for him to remember that none of this was real. But it sure felt real. Worse than real. He'd broken his hand in the mine, not severed it.

The creaks and groans of settling debris pulled Jonathan back into the mine. His heart raced. He had to get Franklin out of the mine before another beam gave way.

"Frankie?" A quiet moan sifted through the pile of rubble. At least he was alive. "Frankie, are you okay?"

"No."

Jonathan gritted his teeth to keep from screaming and clawed at the beam that held him pinned to the ground. It wouldn't budge, but in his scrabbling, his hand brushed against the flashlight. He turned it on and discovered a narrow rift between the beam and pile of rubble. He shone the light through the gap and found Franklin lying on the ground. The same beam that pinned Jonathan's left hand had splintered and driven a piece of wood through Franklin's torso, impaling him.

No. This isn't right. Franklin's only injury in the mine had been a mild concussion. He died in Afghanistan. This isn't real. But the nightmare didn't stop.

"It hurts Jon-Jon." Franklin's head lurched forward as he struggled to free himself. "Get me outta here!"

"Stop it Franklin! You're making it worse. Hold still."

Why is this so much worse than what really happened? Blood oozed around the three-inch diameter wound in Franklin's belly, soaking his shirt. "You're okay, Frankie. This isn't real. This isn't how you die."

Franklin tried again to lift his body off the pike then fell back with a groan. His hand went limp, but his chest rose and fell in rapid shallow pants.

"Hang on, Frankie. I'm coming. I'll get you out."

A sinister creak reverberated overhead. The beam that had impaled Franklin and trapped Jonathan shifted. Franklin screamed.

Stop this. Please, someone make it stop.

Jonathan and Franklin's chances of getting out alive were decreasing with every second. The constant moans of shifting debris and Franklin's pleas for help gave Jonathan the courage he needed. He ignored the agony of his broken ribs, curled up into a ball, positioned his feet against the beam on either side of his trapped hand, and exploded backwards.

Jonathan hadn't expected his hand to separate so easily. He sat on his butt and stared at his arm. He tied off the bleeding stump with his belt as best he could. He was wasting time fretting over his stupid arm. He clawed at the rocks with his right hand and begged God to save them both.

God didn't answer.

An ominous sound, like a runaway freight train, echoed through the tunnels.

"Oh, no. No, no, no... please God, no." Jonathan doubled his efforts to dig through the rubble. He even used the bloody stump of his left arm, but he'd never get Franklin out before the mine flooded.

"Don't leave me, Jon-Jon. I don't want to die alone."

"I'm not going anywhere, Frankie. I promise. Live or die, we're in this together."

The ground shook as the roar of rushing water grew louder. Jonathan squeezed through the gap and wrapped his arms around Franklin. He lifted him off the splintered beam and held him against his chest. "I've got you, Frankie. It's okay."

A wall of icy water slammed into Jonathan's back, ripping Franklin from his arms. Jonathan screamed, but the churning river of debris swallowed the sound. His lungs burned, starving for air. Instinct took over. The first lungful caused his body to convulse, expelling the life-stealing water. His diaphragm rebelled and forced more dirty water into his lungs. Through it all, Jonathan never stopped screaming Franklin's name.

"Jonathan. Wake up."

Jonathan barely heard the voice. His ears and sinuses still throbbed with each desperate beat of his heart. His lungs were still full of water. He couldn't breathe.

"Snap out of it!"

Jonathan's body jerked like it sometimes did right before falling asleep. He gasped and choked as more water found its way down his trachea. But this time, the water tasted clean. And it was mixed with patchouli scented air. His eyelids fluttered open. Blue's face hovered over his.

"What the hell?"

"I'm sorry about throwing water in your face, but you refused to come out of trance and I have another client in ten minutes."

"What the hell did you do to me?"

Blue patted his knee. "I didn't do a thing except guide you into a level six stage of profound somnambulism. The rest was all you."

Yeah, right. Jonathan wanted to get the hell out of there as fast as possible, but his body refused to cooperate. He was still flying higher than a freaking kite.

Blue glanced at her notes then back at Jonathan. "You seemed to be experiencing an amalgamation of two separate traumatic events. Can you elaborate on what happened?"

"Yeah. I was drugged without consent and then mind fucked."

Blue's eyebrows twitched, but that was her only reaction to Jonathan's accusation.

He hoped he'd be able to sort out his memories. He'd been a little more claustrophobic after he and Franklin were rescued from the mine, but now... just the thought of going into a mine made him dizzy. He hoped it was just an aftereffect of the drugs.

Blue poured a cup of what smelled like coffee into a mug and handed it to Jonathan.

He shook his head. "No thanks."

She had the nerve to actually roll her eyes. "It's just coffee. The caffeine will help you shake off any lingering effects of the trance."

Jonathan climbed out of the recliner and headed for the front door. A middle-aged woman was sitting on the couch in the living room, flipping through a new-age magazine. She looked up when Jonathan walked by.

He nodded towards the beaded curtains. "Whatever you do, don't drink the tea."

Learn more about Charlotte Abel and The Sanctuary Series at: www.CharlotteAbel.com

River's Recruit is available now

#

# Prelude to Mercy  
By Shannon Dermott

# Like a sense of home, the familiar baseball cap on my head was a comfort and not just because of the hot sun. The day was a blaze of light and the baseball in my hand reminded me that I was supposed to be doing something. While I waited for the next batter, my attention shifted just as I wiped at a bead of sweat on my brow.

"Hey Paul, are you going to throw the ball or what?" a voice said off in the distance.

Turning my attention from the girls' practice, which was taking place on the football field instead of the baseball diamond, I shifted in my stance. My team, the varsity team, got first use of the diamond, fair or not. I looked in the direction of the voice for just a second.

My catcher was ready for the pitch and was probably tired and hot like the rest of us. Hell, I'd waited while everyone else got ready. They could wait just a second more.

A quick glance over my shoulder showed she wasn't wearing a hat. She would regret that later and I wanted to warn her about potential sunburn if only just to speak to her. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and it swayed with her every movement. The fireball next to her was attached to her hip most days.

Maggie was a ball buster that had a way of embarrassing guys to no end when they tried to talk to her. I was sure she would be just as fierce in protecting her best friend. Those two were a pair to the end. That much I knew.

When a cluster of guys came over, they followed my line of sight. I knew they wanted to see who I was checking out. This made me feel vaguely uncomfortable.

A hand clapped on my back and hung on my shoulder. "You better not be looking at my sister, Bowman," a different voice said.

Turning to face the voice wouldn't change what I already knew. Looking up, I saw the match to the fireball. Liam was tall with a mix of reddish-blond hair, but the resemblance was clear. Although only a year ahead of me, a junior, Liam wasn't one to be messed with. And he wasn't Maggie's only protector. Her other brother was a senior, but he didn't play baseball. He played lacrosse, so I didn't have to deal with both of them at once.

"No, I'm not," I said flatly.

Liam frowned at me. "What are you saying? You don't think she's cute enough?"

Laughing, I wondered why the guy just admonished me from checking his sister out. "She's cute," I said in a nonchalant way. "But it's her friend I'm interested in."

Liam's frown stayed in place. "Who, Mercy? She's like a sister to me too."

Sighing, I pulled my cap off my head and ran my hand through my hair. Putting my cap back on, I manned up. "Is she off limits too?"

My question, however, came too late before the rest of the team, who'd been practicing, now came over to huddle around, wondering what was going on. A few murmurs were spoken when Liam finally took it upon himself to broadcast to everyone what they'd been talking about.

"Fellas, it seems my young apprentice Paul, here, is going to ask Mercy Moore out," Liam announced.

"Nice," a guy named Doug said as he clapped Liam's other shoulder. "Do you think I can ask your sister out?"

Liam immediately went on a rant while Doug just grinned up at him. Thankfully, the guy took the heat off of me. The guys were quickly immersed in that conversation, leaving me to glance over at the girls' team again.

Only it seemed not everybody was watching the showdown between Doug and Liam. "So what makes you think she'll go out with you?" another voice asked arrogantly.

I turned to catch sight of the freshman guy all the girls were going gaga over. Flynn was his name. He was tall like me and he met me eye to eye. Luke, a friend to us both, looked between us. His expression said he really didn't want to have to pick a side. But I knew he and Flynn were close and if it came down to it, he would side with Flynn.

"What is she your girlfriend or something?" he asked, with a little chuckle to show his confidence. Mercy was in my math class and I'd been talking to her for a while now. I was pretty sure she was interested in me too.

Flynn turned and stared in the direction of the girls. The guy flashed a sly smile. I turned back to see that a bunch of the girls had stopped practice to see what we were doing. Maggie, the firecracker and sister to Liam, started making rude gestures. Chuckling, I watched as Mercy's face flushed and not from the heat. Other girls began to chime in with hoots about, "You can't handle all this!"

That quieted Liam, who held his hand out to either side as if he were saying, "Why," suggesting to his sister he wasn't pleased. Meanwhile, the cat calls like, "Why don't you come over here with that sweet ass of yours and find out," rained out on the guys' side. This caused Liam to push some kid, and it all seemed to get a little out of control from there.

Coach must have been talking to someone on the phone because he'd yet to break this up. Meanwhile, I blanked out on all the noises around me. Instead, I focused solely on Mercy. She returned my stare with a shy smile and a hint of a dimple. That smile ignited something in me no girl ever had. She was pretty without knowing it, which made her sweet as homemade pie.

Taking a step forward, I planned to make my move. Holding eye contact, I was sure she would move towards me once he started forward. A firm hand grasped my biceps. Turning, I looked to meet the furious glare from Flynn. "Where are you going Cassanova? We've got practice."

Shrugging, I shook out of Flynn's hold. With my fist gripping the ball, I almost said something. However, Flynn was right. We were at practice. There would be time later to ask Mercy out.

Glancing back, I would have ignored Flynn, who stood his ground if Mercy looked like she was heading my way. However, when I turned back, the girls had dispersed back into their practice formations. Mercy's back was now to me. The moment passed. Flynn spoiled it. I looked up and met Luke's eyes. The guy's facial expression was blank. He turned and headed back to his spot at second base, taking Flynn with him. I couldn't get a read on Luke. We had gotten to be good friends last year. Things changed once his buddy made his way from middle school here. I watched the freshman, rather Flynn, go back to the catcher spot's pulling the mask on. The guy wanted it all, my pitcher status and maybe even the girl I was after.

Working my shoulders, I waited while Flynn bent down. The guy signaled for a fastball. Doug, who was up at bat, swung warm ups in anticipation. Even though it wasn't a real game, and it was pre-pre season, we practiced like it was real. It was one of the coach's secrets to success. Always play to win. So with that, I prepared and gave everything I had on this pitch which would catch them all by surprise. Especially, the little freshman cock blocker who ruined my moment. I would get him back with the heat off my wicked curve ball.

****

Rushing through my shower, I got dressed. Readying myself to head home, a couple of guys walked by and clapped me on the back. Looking up, one said, "Good going Bowman, that girl's got nice melons." The guy's hands were in front of his chest like he was holding something.

Just when I was about to say something, Luke sidled up to my side, diverting my attention from the loser patrol. "A word of warning," Luke said. "That thing out there, throwing a different pitch than called, wasn't cool."

I rolled my eyes. If he came to warn me about his friend, I would let the guy know I could handle myself. "Look, unless you have a death wish, I wouldn't do something like that again. Flynn's cool. And although he acts like a pretty boy, his bark comes with a nasty bite."

"Thanks, but I can handle myself. Why don't you tell your friend to back off Mercy," I said in challenge.

The guy arched an eyebrow. "Your funeral," he muttered and walked off. What was that supposed to mean. Did Flynn have his eyes on Mercy?

Doubling my efforts, I rushed to get outside hoping to reach Mercy in the parking lot before she went home. I'd felt a connection earlier and didn't want to miss this opening to asking her out.

Headed out of the locker room door, I felt eyes on the back of my head. Turning, my eyes locked on one Flynn McCallister. Not having time for that, I ignored him and made my way outside. Turning the corner and getting a good view of the mostly empty lot, I saw Mercy on the passenger side door of the redhead's door.

"Hey," a voice behind me said. Turning, I caught a glimpse of Doug racing towards me.

"What's up?" I asked, still walking in a somewhat fast pace. I wasn't ready to turn on the jets. That may make me look a bit more desperate than I was ready to admit. The worst that could happen was I would miss talking to her today and could talk to her tomorrow.

"Going for it?" Doug asked, about two steps behind me at this point.

Nodding, I said, "You?"

Doug nodded, "Hell, yeah. That girl is something else."

"Her brother didn't scare you then?" I asked. Liam could be a bit intimidating.

"It's worth it," the guy said, shooting forward. Apparently, he didn't care if red saw him as eager.

I started to run to. But then realized if Doug stopped Maggie, my problem would be solved. Plans however changed when Doug's friend stepped out of nowhere to stand next to him by Maggie's car when Doug made it over there. The guy was looking at Mercy. Yet, she was looking at me.

Jogging, I made the decision to keep her attention on me. Breathing slightly harder than normal, I said, "Hey."

How lame was that? "Hi," she said with a shy smile on her face.

"Eme," Maggie called her from the other side of the car. "Doug wants to go get ice cream or coffee. Want to go?"

Mercy's body was half turned in the other girl's direction, giving me a profile view of her entire body. "Yeah, okay. Give me a minute." Moving to face me, she said, "Sorry about that. Did you want something?"

Doug and his friend had beaten me to the punch. Asking her out now might not be the best idea. Maybe she liked that guy. "I was hoping you could help me with our math project."

Was that surprise I saw with the flicker of movement in her eye? Was she hoping I would have asked her out instead? "Sure, tomorrow?" she asked.

"Okay, after practice we could go to the library and then I could take you home."

Nodding, she said, "That's cool. See you tomorrow then."

Stepping back, I held out the door for her as she slipped into the car. Doug and his friend were gone. I guess they were getting in their own ride. Closing the door, I gave her a salute. Giggling, she waved. Did I really just do that? A salute. What the hell was wrong with me? This girl had me so confused.

****

Getting up early, I spent longer than usual in the bathroom getting ready. I already got a knowing look from my mom. Fiddling with my hair in the mirror, I looked at the clothes I decided on. Tilting my head back, I wondered what the heck I was thinking. It was just a girl. I didn't even know if she was into me for certain. Shaking my head in disgust, I headed out the door. But first, I took a second look.

Grabbing my favorite baseball cap, I headed downstairs.

"Who's the lucky girl?" my mother asked.

"There's no girl, mom," I said.

"Look at you. You spent extra time this morning getting ready. There's a girl. I should tell your father."

Groaning I rolled my eyes. "Dad's busy with work. Don't bother him about something that's nothing."

"I hear more about your sister's life than I do about yours and she's off in college," my mother complained.

"Mom, there is nothing to tell," I protested. Then I took a bite into a huge cinnamon roll. My mom was a good cook. "You really shouldn't cook like this. You'll be the death of us all," I teased her, trying in vain to change the subject.

Mom looked up. "Your sister never complains. In fact, she was telling me the other day how the cafeteria food just wasn't like home." She continued to talk and, unintentionally, I tuned her out. My sister and my mom could do without my mom's cooking. But I would never tell either one of them that.

"I gotta go. I'm going to be late," I said with the other half of my cinnamon roll in my hand.

During school, I wasn't allowed to wear my hat. With my lucky hat on the passenger seat, I sat in my car and finger combed through my hair before I made an appearance. My only class with Mercy didn't come until after lunch. So again, I wondered what the hell I was doing.

Getting out of my parent's old beat up car, I knew another thing that was a must. A job. My dad said that he would match whatever I put down for a new car. After baseball season was over, that was tops on my list. What girl would want to ride around in this monster?

Finally, after the day dragged on to high heaven, lunch came. Not that I was excited about what the cafeteria was serving. Not with a mother who made everything she fixed taste good. Grabbing a burger, I made my way out of the line and outside to the quad. The sun was out and almost everyone was taking advantage. Mercy was sitting by herself and not wanting to miss another opportunity, I headed her way. She glanced up from a book she was reading with one hand and held half of a sandwich in the other.

"Mind if I join you?" I asked.

With a welcoming smile, she said, "Sure, have a seat."

Just when I put the tray down, Maggie, Doug and his friend sat at the table with us. I could see in carrot tops eyes he wasn't thrilled I was here. That was too bad for him. Good for me because Mercy hadn't even glanced his way.

"Paul," Doug said.

"Doug," I said back.

"You know Tim," he said, eyeing his friend.

"Sure," I said with a half nod in the guy's direction.

Before I could focus my attention back on Mercy, some of the guys from the team saddled up, tapping me on my shoulder. When I looked around and saw melon boy was with them, I gritted my teeth for what was going to come out of his mouth.

"Who's the fresh 'meat'?" melon boy asked, using a slang term for freshman.

About ready to call the melon boy out, Maggie beat me to it. "We have names, dickhead."

"So, red has fire in her mouth just like her hair. Tell me darlin' what's your name?" melon boy asked, faking a southern drawl.

"Cut it out, Bellman," Doug said, giving voice to the guy's surname.

"Oh Dougie, is she yours? What about her then?" he asked, pointing at Mercy.

Standing, I got in Bellman's face. "What's your problem, Bellman?"

One of the other guys spoke her name to melon boy. "Ah, Mercy, Mercy, me," Bellman said holding a tight fist to his heart. The other guys laughed at him, only bringing more attention to us.

"Dude, leave," I said, eyeing the guy, ready to make good on the threat I gave with the tone of my voice.

"Whatever, Bowman. She probably isn't putting out anyway." Having said the last word, he strode off with his friends.

Sitting again, I said, "I'm really sorry about that."

Mercy looked more pissed than I thought. "I've heard it all." Looking up, she clarified. "My name. I'm not sure why my mother wanted to torture me from having a normal life." Sighing, she put her sandwich down. It looked like she was going to speak until her eye lifted past my face and behind me.

"Bowman," a voice said. I recognized the voice. This lunch idea had turned out to be a real pain in the ass.

"McCallister," I said, turning in my seat, which was awkward on this picnic style table.

Luke was standing in the background as usual. The guy didn't want to interfere but clearly he had Flynn's back. A girl with shoulder length hair, bright from the sun in some places, dark in others, strode up to Flynn with purpose. She had a reputation for making her way around the starters for every sports team in our school. I guess her presence next to Flynn indicated he was her next target.

"Are you coming or what?" she asked, her gaze taking him in like he was going to be her last supper. I had to admit the girl was hot and I felt a tiny bit jealous of the guy. Women practically threw themselves at him.

Nodding, she walked off. Luke said quietly, "Let's go."

Flynn said, "Give me a minute."

Luke shook his head and walked off. Flynn turned his focus back to me. Briefly he looked over at Mercy but then said, "Today it will be my turn to pitch while you catch." Then he walked away leaving the threat for me.

"What was that about?" Mercy asked. "He's such an asshole."

At least something good came out of this. The look of disdain clearly said she wasn't into the guy like the rest of the female population here at school.

"Nothing, just baseball," I said, not really wanting to explain how this was supposed to be my year. The previous starter graduated last year leaving a vacancy for a pitcher. I was a shoe in until Flynn showed up. The guy could throw and I may end up second to a freshman. If Mercy went for him, that would be the icing on the cake.

"I just don't get what girls see in him," she said. And I smiled.

****

My hand still stung from the few purposeful pitches Flynn threw at me. Knowing I mostly likely deserved it, I didn't say squat. Instead, I focused on taking a few glances here and there over where the girls were practicing. A few times, I caught Mercy looking back at me. I wasn't vain, but it didn't hurt my ego to think that maybe she was into me like I was into her.

"So, why do you always wear a baseball hat?" Mercy asked, sitting in the passenger seat of my monster mobile. We were headed to the county library because the school library closed before practice was over.

"It's a long story," I said, hoping she'd leave it at that.

Glancing over because we were at a stop light, I could see she wanted to press me more. However, she didn't and I was grateful.

It was a personal story. One that ran deep and wasn't something I liked to talk about. In time I may share, but I was just getting to know her. When the light changed to green, I hit the gas a little too hard and glanced over at her to mutter an apology.

Nodding her head slightly to acknowledge me, she continued as if that hadn't happened. "I guess it helps that you look really cute wearing it," she said, boldly.

That had my eyebrow arching. She smiled and looked away. Was I moving too slow? I would have never guessed her to speak so freely. Tugging the hat off my head, I hooked it on her. "Not as cute as it looks on you," I said, giving her my best grin before focusing my attention back on the road.

Thinking my hair was packed down on my head from the cap, I ruffled a hand through it. When the library came into view, I wasn't sure if I was happy or sad. She'd clearly given me an opening, but what the hell was I supposed to do with it.

Not normally a patron of the place, I was shocked by how full it was. Not quite standing room only, but most of the tables had people sitting at them. We managed to find one towards the back, which in a way was good.

"So, what are you having problems with?"she asked, getting straight to business. She still wore my hat, and I wanted to kiss her for looking so cute in it.

My mouth opened to answer her question and I stopped myself. I didn't want to lie to her. I wasn't clueless in the class but to admit to using it as a way to get her out with me might not go over well. So I found truths in the statements I made. "I wasn't sure the best approach to the question. I mean there are clearly two ways to look at it," I began and launched into my two theories. Studiously, she listened and clearly got what I was talking about. It then became easy between us as we worked through both approaches talking about the pros and cons. But working with her, we were able to come up with the best solution and a good attack on how I should approach the paper. I, along with the rest of the class, didn't understand why we had to write a paper in a Math class, but go figure.

We decided to do the library thing again in a few days to see how things were going. She was also planning to share her project too. It was hard to believe that a beautiful girl like herself was so approachable and down to earth. She didn't seem to have one vain bone in her body.

"Ready to go?" I asked, reluctantly. We'd outlasted many of the other people who had been there or come after we showed up. I was afraid they'd start turning off the lights.

"Sure," she said.

After she told me where she lived, I had a couple of options on how to get there. One would take a little longer than the others. Let's call it the scenic route. Being that I wanted to extend our time together, I drove that way.

When we passed the last of the town and deep into suburbia, my monster coughed and died. Rolling to a stop, I was grateful we weren't on a major road stuck in the middle of traffic. Where we were, no one had yet to pass.

Closing my eyes, embarrassed that we maybe be forced to walk, I put the car in park for no other reason than habit and got out.

Cursing, I said, "I'm sorry about this," before I closed the door. Lifting the hood, the light was fading in the distance. I would need a flashlight to see pretty soon. Looking up, I noticed the unnatural clouds rolling across the sky like wild fire. Their rapid appearance turned off the lights as easy as a switch. Slamming the hood, I got back in the car. Mercy sat quietly as if she read my mood and knew better than to speak.

Scooping my phone from my pocket, I hit the button several times with no response. "Does your phone work?"

"No," she said. "I tried while you were looking under the hood."

"That's strange," I said more to myself. "Did you notice how fast the clouds rolled in?"

Looking out the passenger side window, she said, "Yeah that was weird."

We studied each other. Neither of us wanting to admit how freaked out we were. So I made a joke. "You think we will see crop circles using trees instead?" I asked because the woods lined both sides of the road. "Maybe a spotlight on the car before we are lifted into a spaceship."

"If that happens, I am going to find the first Stargate and dial out. I think I remember some of the patterns from the last show I watched."

That had us laughing until a creepy howl came from somewhere outside the car. Considering the windows were up and we were laughing, yet we heard the eerie sound loud and clear, sent a chill up my spine. Swallowing, I said, "You heard that."

Fear in her eyes had me shrugging off my own. I couldn't wimp out. All of this was my fault. I felt like I'd driven into a bad horror movie. "It's probably nothing," I said. Looking at my dead phone that acted as if it were out of charge, the last of the blue sky was covered. Without the moon, we sat in utter darkness. In vain, I tried to find light in the car from the overhead, from my phone, and from a flashlight under my seat. Nothing.

"I guess I could walk back to town, it's not that far," I suggested, not really relishing the idea.

Her hand reached out and caught mine. It trembled. "I'll go with you."

Hearing the fear in her voice, I said, "Okay." With the howling, I didn't want to leave her alone. But staying there didn't seem like a good idea either.

Opening our doors, we stepped out into the awaiting darkness. At the back of the car, I caught her hand, when all hell broke loose.

A crashing, like something really big was smashing through the tree line, sounded to our left. I didn't bother with the car. It wouldn't protect us from the unseen danger behind us. "Run," I called out. With our hands interlocked, we did just that.

As we ran in the direction of the library, something flew by us going towards the danger. A deafening roar resounded against what sounded like a voice. "Die you dirty bastard." I shouldn't have heard that. I couldn't place the voice but it sounded female. With the other noise from the 'dirty bastard' that had come through the trees, it was impossible to tell for sure. Looking back didn't shed any light on what was behind us. A loud thud sounded and the pounding of earth shaking footsteps started to get closer. Whatever it was, it was big. In only a few steps, it sounded as though it was upon us.

Mercy was quiet, keeping up with my pace. When I sped up, so did she. "Tasty snacks, I do like a chase before I eat." The voice was gravelly, as if the thing had a mouthful of rocks.

Quiet Mercy turned and screamed. Something whacked us from behind. The force of it sent us up in the air to crash onto the ground several yards away. Mercy lay still a few feet away. Using my arms, I crawled over to her, heedless of the danger behind us.

"Guardian, you are no match for me," the gravelly voice chided. The whispered threat it's only disturbance in the air.

Uncaring, only my need to get to her held my attention. I reached her and from her wrist, I could feel her heart beating. There was a thud and we began to get pelted by earth. Bits of dirt rained down on and around us. Protectively, I covered Mercy's body with my own, fearing larger or shaper pieces would come.

And it happened, the earth shook and more of it rained down on only me now. Larger pieces hit my back until one hit my head. Before, I succumbed to the nothingness, a bit of light lit up the field like dawn.

****

Jerking awake, I sat up and got to my feet. What the hell? The clock read a little after midnight. Picking up my phone, I knew it was late. However, I had to know if she was okay. Texting Mercy, I asked if she was sleeping.

Immediately, I got a response back. She was up, had a bad dream. Thinking back, I remembered driving her home. She made it fine. But the dream was like an alternative ending. We'd gotten ambushed by something.

Shaking off the feeling, I texted her back, 'Me too. Try to get some sleep. I'll see U in the AM.'

'U 2.' I got back from her.

In my bathroom, I surveyed my clothes. I just had this feeling that I would find dirt on them. Nothing. Using my hand, I probed the back of my head for a goose egg that should be there. Again, nothing.

Heading back into my room, I chucked off the feeling you get when your dream seems so real. I even looked out on the street at my car. It was where I remembered leaving it.

Shedding my clothes, I closed the book that was on my bed and got in. Tomorrow was another day and hopefully, that was the end of that nightmare.

The next day at school when I saw Mercy, I reached for her hand. She let me take it. "Did you sleep okay?" I asked, letting the full extent of my concern show through.

Looking up and dancing her head side to side, she said, "If you don't consider the horror of a nightmare I had right before you texted me, it was okay." Smiling she added, "Don't ask. I like horror movies, so I brought this on myself." Her laugh was sweet. And from that, I knew she was fine.

"I love horror movies too. But I think I'll lay off for a while," I mused.

She giggled this time, which was even cuter. When we reached her classroom, I said, "I want to have lunch with you, but after yesterday's debacle." Trailing off, I didn't finish what didn't need to be said.

"You're still welcome to sit with us," she said, giving me the go ahead and ducked into her classroom.

A hard slap on my back had me turning. "How you feeling this morning slugger?" Flynn said, winking at me before walking away. My hand throbbed for a second under his scrutiny. Flexing it, I hoped I would be able to grip the ball okay. I was fighting for the starter position. And Flynn was going to be hard to beat.

"Ignore him," Luke said from my left side. "Is your hand okay?" He seemed to look me over as if our friendship hadn't changed when his best friend had stepped onto campus the first day.

"I'm fine," I lied. My hand still hurt but not enough to complain about.

"All right," Luke said. "See you at lunch."

He patted my shoulder again, and stalked off. Flexing my hand again, it felt like some of the ache was leaving my hand. I hoped it would be gone by practice.

Something in me said I should take things slow with Mercy, that perhaps I was moving too fast before. Even though she'd given me signals that she was interested, I didn't pursue her hard. That meant I didn't sit with her at lunch. She smiled when I walked passed and I smiled too, but I didn't take the bait. Instead, I sat with my usual group of friend across the way.

"I see you left your girl unprotected," Bellman chided.

"Leave it, Bellman, unless you want a face full of my fist," I growled.

Never one to back down, the guy didn't take the hint. "I got twenty that says McCallister can bag her before Bowman here," Bellman said to no one in particular.

I found myself only half paying attention to the guys around me. Transfixed, I watched Mercy talking to her friends. Doug and Tim were back and Maggie and Mercy were engaged in conversation that had them all in fits of hysteria.

"Who would bet against me?" Flynn said.

"I would," Luke said. "My money's on Bowman."

"That's fucked up man. I thought you had my back," Flynn said.

A ruckus of laughter rained around me. With my lunch finished, I stood and walked away. I had to do something. It was like a war inside me. A part of me said sit and be patient. The other said, go for what you want. The latter led me away from the table. Chucking my tray on top of the trash can, I walked to her table.

"Where are you going Bowman?" Flynn asked.

Not answering, I figured he'd soon find out.

"Mercy, can I talk to you," I asked, when I stepped over to her table.

"Sure," she said. "Mags, I'll see you later."

"Uh, huh," Maggie said giving us both looks like she was certain what we were up to.

Taking her hand, I saw Tim's frown from my approach deepen. The guy ought to give up. She wasn't interested. Couldn't he see that? It was still warm out, so I walked with her over to the bleachers. They were blissfully clear of students. Taking a seat, I urged her to sit right next to me.

"Sorry to interrupt your lunch but, for some reason, I just felt the need to make sure you were okay. I think my own dream rattled me."

That got me a blush. Catching me off guard, she stood and did a little twirl. "Now you know I'm fine." She was more than fine. She was extraordinary. Her brown hair was lit up with golden strands in the sunlight. Her eyes had greens, brown and gold in them that I could now see. Her lips were pink and full and begged to be kissed. Sitting and looking at me like she was waiting for me to do just that, I leaned in.

"Well, well, well. I didn't think I'd find you two here," Flynn said, with him stood the girl from yesterday. She smirked at us. Taking her hand, he led her further behind us up in the bleachers.

Rolling her eyes at the interfering couple, I knew the moment had died and Flynn had killed it. The son of a bitch had to know we walked over here. It would have been obvious. Apparently, he took Bellman's bet seriously. "He's a total jackass," she muttered as we made our way back to the quad.

After school, I didn't see her. She didn't have practice today. I concentrated on throwing the best pitches I could. Following the rules, I let Flynn, my catcher of the day, call the plays. There would be one more round tomorrow before coach announced the starting lineup.

****

Days passed with more hand holding, shared smiles, a couple of kisses on the cheeks, sitting at lunch on occasion and sitting together at pep rallies, but nothing more. It felt right. As much as I hoped for more, I was finding myself falling hard for a girl whose intelligence and quiet humor abounded as much as her beauty.

I'd even begun driving her home. To my shock, today when I pulled in front of her house, she asked, "Want to come in?"

Nodding, I said, "Sure," hoping my astonishment didn't show through.

Following her up the walk, my nervousness calmed a little when I noticed her hand shaking as she turned the lock. We were both a little scared of what was going to come. Walking in the house, we moved into the living room where unceremoniously, she dropped her backpack. On her heels, I didn't notice her pivot when we crashed into each other.

"Uh, you want something to drink?" she asked, wide eyed.

"Coke," I replied feeling a blush fill my cheeks. Our little crash had put us closer together than before. I couldn't deny the soft flesh that pressed into mine and my body tensed with how good it felt to have her close.

Moving around me, she said, "Okay." She left me in the room to look around. The walls were white but the furniture was colorful. The yellow sofa screamed for me to sit, so I did. Pillows with flowers on them confirmed that only girls lived here. Mercy had shared with me her father had died before she was born. Today, I was planning to share with her the reason behind my fascination with baseball caps. I'd grown comfortable enough with her to share a piece of myself, I didn't share very often. Reaching up I felt for it, my cap, to make sure it was there when she walked in the room.

In her hand, she held two cans of Coke. Hesitating, she didn't seem sure what to do next. Finally, she moved and sat next to me. Handing me a Coke, I took it and set it on the table while she opened hers. The time felt right. I would make my move, I thought.

"When are baseball tryouts?" she asked.

"Next month," I said a little too enthusiastically. At least officially, technically these early practices were warm ups for those needed to get in shape before the season began. We all knew everything was riding on this. That is why we all attended the voluntary practices. "Are you going out for softball or track?'

Hoping for softball so I could continue to see her at least briefly every day, I held my breath for her answer. "Softball probably," she said.

"Cool," I said, looking around the room. The small talk had thrown me. Now it would just seem weird if I kissed her out of the blue.

"My mom's not going to be home for a while," she said, garnering my attention again. My head had snapped back to face her to read her expression. She looked away, the heat in her face said she'd heard the invitation in her words. Did she want this as much as I did? She'd asked me in and now this comment. It had to be the green light to go for first base.

Shifting to sit straight from my previous hunched position, I decided to just go for it. The worst that could happen would be she could slap me for being too forward. But I didn't think so. I really thought she wanted this as much as I did. Further, I hoped she wouldn't judge me harshly if this kiss turned out to be awkward.

Turning my head and leaning over a tad to call her name, she turned and our mouths lined up like it was fate. Her lips were just as soft and warm as I imagined. I felt like I was being pulled closer yet I couldn't get close enough. My body warmed and chilled as it felt like she was tugging at my heart and at my soul. This kiss was more than I imagined. My heart raced like I was running and I wanted to get my hands on her to pull her closer still. My head wandered at unbidden thoughts of what it would be like to take this even further. Visions of taking off her shirt and looking at what had to be the most perfect pair of breast god created, nearly had me groaning in her mouth.

I wanted to fight those feelings. Mercy wasn't just a piece of ass, but her ass. My hands, god I wanted to have my hands on her ass. I felt as if I wasn't breathing through this kiss. I felt dizzy and lightheaded. I need to speak, to pull away, but I couldn't. It was like some unseen force kept us pressed together.

Dimly, I felt Mercy pull away. My thoughts were clouded. I couldn't speak when she called out to me.

I think she even said to someone, "Should I call 911," before darkness claimed me.

As awkward as it was, I found Mercy the next day at school. Her eyes were puffy and red.

"It's okay," I said holding her in my arms.

"No, it's not," she sniffed at my chest.

Stroking her hair, I didn't know if I was consoling her or me. "I still want to be your friend."

Pulling back, she looked at me with tears streaming down her face. I wanted more but it wasn't possible between the two of us ever. With my thumbs I was wiping her tears away when Maggie chose to walk up to us. "Eme, what the hell," she said, glaring at me.

Voice cracking, she said, "We broke up." Looking at me, it was a silent understanding that this would remain between us.

"You asshole," Maggie spat.

"No, Mags," Mercy said. "It's not his fault. We just thought it would be better if we were just friends." The sad smile she gave Maggie tore through me. This wasn't fair. She and I wanted to be together. But her mom had been very clear on the matter.

"It doesn't look like you are okay," Maggie said, the death rays were only a precursor to the main event of tongue lashing I was yet to suffer through. But Mercy wasn't having any of it.

"Really Mags, it's fine," she said taking one step back.

Before she could totally retreat, I kissed her forehead. Then, I whispered, "Are you going to be okay?" She nodded and I added, "I'll see you at lunch." She nodded again. But I didn't see her at lunch.

Walking around the corner to class, Bellman and his friends were standing around their locker. "So you bagged her and dumped her. Bowman, you're my hero," melon asshole said.

Snapping, anger coursed through me. I tunneled into the guy with fists flying. When he went down, I gave a final upper cut that had bone cracking. Then I was pulled back by two guys. "Don't ever talk about her like that," I spat.

Bellman stood with the help of his friend spitting blood. "What the fuck Bowman. She's just a dumb bitch."

"Mercy's no bitch and if I ever hear you speak about her, I'll finish what I started today," I promised.

It was then I was let loose. Flynn stepped from my side and got in Bellman's face. "Don't speak her name," Flynn said with his hand wrapped around the guy's throat.

Then Luke stepped over adding, "Don't even think her name."

Hands raised, Bellman knew his limits. "Whatever, I don't even know who you are talking about."

"That's a good boy," Flynn said, using the hand that just held the guy's neck to pat him on the head.

Flynn tugged me away. "I've got your back. No one will talk about your girl like that again."

"She's not my girl," I said, the rage gone in its place was a hole I didn't think I'd ever fill.

"What," Luke said catching up to us.

"We're not together anymore," I said, going along with Mercy's excuse. "We broke up."

Flynn stopped and I thought it was because of what I said. And maybe part of it was. The other was the principal and two teachers marching in our direction. My bloody hand was a dead giveaway. I was so fucked.

****

Approximately two years later

Working at the restaurant paid off. I had the car, the girl and I was headed to an Elite party. I never had aspirations to be popular. It just kind of happened.

To top it off, I was the starting pitcher last year and college scouts would be coming to see me. I had been so sure that Flynn would win the job. But after that afternoon with Mercy, everything seemed to change.

We couldn't be together and that bothered me. In the end, I'd somehow earned Flynn and Luke's friendship. It weighed on me for a while that when Flynn's pitches went wide and his fastball was slow, I knew he'd thrown the competition. He swore to me, that it wasn't true. But in the back of my mind, I'd always wonder. It was too convenient that he'd thrown out his shoulder.

"Are you sure you want to go to the party tonight?" Amber asked.

We'd been together for a while. It was still amazing to me that I was dating one of the prettiest girls in school. My mind traveled to Mercy where it always did. Mercy's beauty was the kind that made a guy say 'isn't she lovely' in a mushy way. Amber was stacked, not as much as Mercy was on top, I didn't think any girl in school could compare there. But Amber was the kind of girl, that made a guy say 'damn she's hot.'

"Yeah, Mercy's going to be there." I wanted to retreat my words when I saw Amber's frown. She was jealous of Mercy's and my relationship. "She's just a friend," I said automatically. "If you would get to know her, you would see that she's only a friend."

Amber nodded. As much as I wanted to reassure her, I knew if I could, if it were possible, I would try to win her back. I really liked Amber a lot and she'd trusted me with important things including her heart. When she told me after that first time she loved me, I felt honor bound to be there for her. I wasn't going to be that guy. So, I hung out less and less with Maggie and Mercy and more with my girlfriend.

Yet, tonight was different. I could feel it. Mercy didn't go to parties. Not many at least. She hadn't even dated. Then Brent had asked Maggie out. The guy had a thing for her and once Doug was out of the picture, he'd pounced. So here we were. Parking the car, I came around and opened Amber's door getting me a smile. She kissed me, before I'd even closed the door. And I kissed her back. I didn't love her. I wanted to, but I didn't. The heart wants what the heart wants. Still, I was trying to turn that corner.

Inside, Jay's house was brimming with people. The music was pumping and people were getting their drink on. Amber got two cups for us while I asked where everyone was at. I didn't see the crew including Flynn and Luke.

"I think they're down the hall in that room over there," a drunk guy said, slurring his words.

"Thanks," I replied, tugging Amber with me. I was sure this was the private party invitees only.

The Elite liked to play games, especially anything that could get them horizontal. It was weird at first how they would play these games and flirt with each other, but I'd gotten used to it now. A few drinks and I wouldn't care very much either.

Opening the door just a crack, I peeked in to make sure it was cool before I pulled Amber in. And there she was, sitting between Luke and Flynn. She wore different clothes, ones that showed off her curves, but it was her inviting smile that drew me further into the room. All the way in, I held Amber's hand. That's when I saw it. Mercy's smile dimmed just a bit before recovering somewhat. She had to still feel it between us like I did.

My hand went instinctively up to my head. My cap was missing. Amber didn't like me wearing it much. Mercy never minded, I thought quickly. Pushing a hand through my hair, I said hello quickly to everyone.

"You're just in time," Flynn announced to me. "Mercy here was about to take her turn in a friendly game of truth or dare."

My stomach clenched. Flynn would not be an asshole to Mercy that was a promise. I saw the bottle in the middle of the circle. They'd been playing spin the bottle. The bottle neck was pointed at Mercy.

What the hell had happened? I caught her eye for a second before Flynn spoke again. "So what will it be," he said to her. "Truth or Dare?"

Did he know something? Had she kissed someone here? Was this just an alternative to her not kissing anyone? The questions were bouncing around my skull. Something had definitely happened. Even Luke seemed a little off. I just needed time to talk to her alone.

Amber tugged on my arm. I looked into her eyes. She was smiling like she wanted my attention. Had I been starting at Mercy? Smiling back at her, I heard Mercy in the background say, "Truth."

Learn more about Shannon Dermott and The Cambions Series at: http://www.shannondermott.com

Beg for Mercy is available now

# Intentions  
By Airicka Phoenix

# The card gaped at me. A single word and a series of numbers marred the rectangular cardboard. They called to me, pouring reason into the black void blanketing all hope.

Outside, fury boiled the heavens into dark cyclones of vengeance. Fat raindrops plummeted to the ground, shattering like glass across the pavement and bursting against the windows. The storm raged as though feeling the injustice prodding on me. I had no choice.

My thumbs, nails jagged, skin torn and bleeding from hours of abuse beneath my teeth, moved over the buttons on the phone. I held my breath.

Please don't be there! My head begged, too sensible, too rational to believe such an impossibility existed.

Please be there! My heart begged, too weak, too scared to take another beating.

Bile roiled in the pit of my stomach. Cold sweat gelled on my spine, pooled beneath my arms and slicked the plastic clutched desperately to my ear—dialing... dialing... dialing. My grasp trembled.

Please God... please...

"This damn well better be good!" A female voice lanced through the rope tethering my tongue to the roof of my mouth.

Even though I'd memorized everything on the card, I glanced at it. I wet my dry, stiff lips. "I'm Tessa Haines. I'm looking for Kieran. Is he—?"

There was a grunt, the rustle of fabric, the squeak of a bed frame, and I winced. My eyes darted to the clock above the stove — 11 a.m. — an acceptable time to call a person on a weekday... wasn't it?

"I didn't sign up for this shit...," the woman griped, sounding unusually distant from the receiver as if she were carrying it away from her. "Kieran... Kieran! Some girl's on the phone!"

The phone struck something. It sounded muffled. There was more rustling, more squeaking, an exchange of words too far away to be heard and then... the voice.

It was male, thick with sleep and power. It sliced through the line separating us with a husky moan that rocked me to the core. I momentarily forgot where I was or why I was even holding the phone. That single guttural sound caressed the walls of my skull, rich and smooth like melted chocolate, and I wanted to drown in it. I wanted to bathe in it, sleep and die in it. I wanted to close my eyes and beg him to do it again.

"Hello?" So beautiful. So... hot! God how could a single voice be so dangerous?

Words I'd learned from infancy melted away and poured from my ears. I couldn't even remember my own name.

"Hello?" Bed springs jingled. Sheets whispered, and I had an unexpected image of pale skin, cut and carved from ivory into defined lines of muscle, broad shoulders, tapered waist, gorgeous abs and bulging biceps draped lazily by yards of silk. "If you're wondering, the answer is yes!" his voice dropped to a torturous purr. "I am naked."

The phone struck the linoleum with a deafening clutter and spiraled under the table.

I was swearing and diving in after it before it even had a chance to stop spinning. I prayed it hadn't hung up. I prayed it had.

"Hello?" My voice hitched, torn from my lungs, breathy and anxious.

"There you are." The words were low... dreamy, edged with amusement.

The floor was a melted pool of lava and I was sinking fast. "I—I'm sorry. I..."

His chuckle reverberated through my soul. "No worries. I get that reaction a lot. What's your name?"

This is a bad idea! The voice in my head cautioned. A better solution would have been to hang up, burn the card and scatter the ashes.

"Tessa," I heard myself whisper, hypnotized — could a person even be hypnotized over the phone? I shook myself free of the spell he'd woven around me like a shroud. "Tessa Haines. I—I got your number from my neighbor, Tammy Lachey. She said you could help me."

There were several minutes of agonizing silence so sharp I felt it poking holes in my resolve. I wondered if he'd forgotten; if I'd made a mistake. If this had all been a waste of time.

"There's a coffee shop between Alice and Dunbar. Do you know it?"

"No," I whispered, my heart cracking loudly in my chest. "But I'll find it."

"Meet me there tonight at nine," he paused, then finished with, "Be sure this is what you want, Tessa. Be very sure." With his warning hot in my ear, the line went dead.

I set the phone down on the counter with an unsteady hand and wondered what I'd gotten myself into, wondered if it was too late to take it back.

No. I couldn't take it back. I couldn't. I had to do this. Whatever he asked, whatever he wanted, I would pay it because I had no other choice. I was weak and desperate and willing to do anything—everything to save the only person who had ever meant anything to me.

My hand came away wet when I rubbed at my face. I swiped quickly at the tears, streaming without my knowledge down my cheeks, disgusted with myself; crying wasn't going to change anything. I had to be stronger. I had to take charge of the situation.

"Focus, Tessa!" I scolded, bracing myself as I left the kitchen.

Beams of pale gold slashed through the windowpanes, holding the darkness at bay. Bits of dust clung to the shards, sparkling and swirling like tiny dancers when I passed through them on my way to the stairs.

Great-grandmother, the only family I had left, lay in her enormous four-poster bed, looking like a small child lost in an ocean of blankets. She sat propped against pillows, skin so white it was nearly translucent. Machines bleeped from the hidden cabinets cut into the mahogany walls behind her. As much as I hated the sound, hearing it came with a sense of relief.

"Grandma Lou?" I edged quietly into the room soaked with the pungent stench of medication and sickness.

"I ain't dead yet, child," she croaked, eyelids as thin as onion skin still closed. "You can speak louder."

I tiptoed across the antique carpet to stand at the foot of her bed. "Did I wake you?"

She shifted, worming her frail body higher. Eyes that had once been a flawless blue opened. Like everything else about her, they too had faded with the passing of time, becoming a dull gray against the sallow of her face.

"Wasn't sleeping," she said. "Got plenty of time for that when I die."

I hated when she talked like that. I never could understand how she could take death so lightly. How she could be so welcoming for it to come. A part of me hated her for it. Didn't she know she'd leave me behind when she finally left? Wasn't she a little sad about it? It seemed to me as though she couldn't wait to be rid of me. She wouldn't have been the first. I never knew my father and my mother, when asked to choose between their only child and drugs; they decided crack didn't pee itself or cry. Grandma Lou raised me since I was one, after my mother dumped me on the doorstep in a battered car seat and said she'd be back. That was sixteen years ago. Never saw her once. It was the kindest thing she'd ever done for me. But Grandma Lou was nearly a hundred. She'd never see my eighteenth birthday.

"I might have found someone to help make you better," I told her. "This guy helped Tammy's mom after they found out she had cancer. I think—"

"Cancer ain't age, child," she interrupted, voice crackling like paper under careless hands. "You can't stop age. It'll come for you whether you're expecting it or not." Her child-like chest shuddered with her sharp intake of air. Her eyes squeezed closed. The machines bleeped a little louder, a little faster. Then calmed. Her eyes opened again. "You shouldn't be worried about me anyhow. I've made peace with my maker. It's time you do the same. You need to stop finding ways to keep me here. I need to move on, and you need to start thinking about your own life. Maybe even fall in love—"

"I don't want to fall in love," I said as I always did. "I don't—I can't lose you, grams!"

"Bless you, child! Don't—" She succumbed to a fit of coughing that seized her entire body. The machines went crazy. I was around the bed at a run, snatching up a glass of water off the nightstand and pressing it to her thin lips. She took a sloppy sip. Water trickled down her chin, dampening the front of her nightdress. I didn't pull away until she sat back and looked at me. "Don't let life slip past you, girl. You'll regret it when you get to where I am."

I set the glass down and perched a hip on the mattress next to her. "Do you have lots of regrets?"

She closed her eyes and leaned back against her pillows. She was quiet for so long I nearly thought she'd fallen asleep.

"I only regret I don't have more to regret," she said at last.

"I don't understand," I said.

Her faded blue eyes met mine. "Make mistakes, Tessa. Seize every opportunity. Don't let yourself walk away wondering what if. You'll never get that chance again if you waste it. And when it's your time, accept your next chapter with grace." Her fingers were brittle twigs wrapped in tissue-paper-like skin when she took my hand. "I don't want to stay. I am ready to go."

It was as if she'd reached into my chest and torn out my heart. The pain was staggering. I couldn't get to my feet fast enough. I couldn't move away far enough.

"Tessa..."

I didn't stop. Like a coward, I fled.

****

At 8:45, in Grandma Lou's prehistoric 1957 Chevy Bel-Air, I pulled into an empty spot across from a brightly lit cafe. Loopy letters on the bay window labeled it The Corner. I killed the engine, pocketed the keys and climbed out, my stomach twisting in unnatural ways.

My sneakers crunched on wet pavement as I jogged across the deserted street. A breeze carrying the late scent of rain swept around me, blowing tendrils of dark copper across my face. I shook my head, throwing the strands back over my shoulder. I reached the glass door and swung it open.

The heavy scent of coffee, pastries and pine cleaner swirled around me. The alluring fragrance poured into my lungs, injected into my weary system. My lashes closed as I basked in the stuff before I opened them again and focused on the room at large.

It was spacious with a scatter of square tables in soft, lemon-meringue yellow. A U-shaped counter took up most of the left corner. A pimply boy stood behind it, half asleep on his feet. He perked when I stepped inside. Aside from the pair of us, there were no other customers. My heart sank a little; I'd been hoping Kieran would already be there.

I claimed a corner table overlooking the door and waited, and while I waited, I second guessed myself.

It wasn't right, I knew that. I knew grandma had already lived her life, had raised a kid and had watched as he'd had his own kid. She had lived to see everyone in her family die. Had watched her granddaughter — my mother — fail at life. Had watched me be born. She no longer had anything else to live for really. But she had me, didn't she? Wasn't that reason enough to live a little longer? I was only seventeen. I had no idea what was going to happen if she left before I turned eighteen. And maybe it was selfish, but I didn't want to be alone. I didn't want her to die.

"Tessa?" Low and husky, my name poured over me like liquid honey.

A warm shiver caressed my spine, stealing my breath. My head jerked up, my eyes wide.

Rows of straight, white teeth gleamed as firm lips bowed into an irresistible grin. The soft lights painted over sharp cheekbones, a square jaw and a crooked nose that would have seemed odd on any other face, but somehow managed to give this one a reckless appearance. A large hand lifted and swept back thick, dark fringes from eyes so pale, they could have been white. The soft material of his black shirt stretched with the fluid motion, straining over a broad chest. His free hand remained tucked into the pocket of his black jeans. He looked nothing like I'd imagined. I wasn't even sure my imagination was creative enough to imagine someone like him. He was just too gorgeous, too beautiful, too... dangerous to be real.

"You're Kieran?" My hands flew up to my gapping mouth, horrified. "That was rude! I'm so sorry!"

He shrugged wide shoulders. "No worries. Apparently I sound taller on the phone. It throws people off."

His six feet was tall enough, in my opinion.

"I just wasn't expecting you to be so..." Why couldn't I shut up?

One thick, dark eyebrow lifted. "So... charming? Handsome... sexy?" The last part was said with a sly wiggle of his eyebrows.

Embarrassment burned my cheeks. "Young." He didn't look a day over eighteen.

His grin was devastating. "I'm an old soul." His gaze burned into mine as he took in my face. I was suddenly aware of every flaw, every blemish on my pale skin, my freckles, my red hair, my green eyes that were just a little too wide for the contours of my oval face. Then there was the zit on my chin that I'd been picking at all morning. I was sure it was as red and swollen as Rudolph's nose and equally impossible to miss.

"You are Tessa, right?" he asked.

I pulled my thoughts together, mentally shaking my head and dismantling the fog settling heavily over my brain. "I'm sorry. Yes. I'm Tessa."

A large palm with long fingers was extended to me from across the table. "Kieran Krause."

I hesitated long enough to inconspicuously wipe my palm on my thighs, leaving sweat stains on my jeans. Slowly, I slipped my hand into his, watching, mesmerized as his fingers coiled around mine, swallowing my hand entirely.

His touch was raw electric flames searing up my arm. I gasped at the sheer intensity that threatened to consume me.

But far too quickly, he let go, jerking a nod to the chair across from me. "May I?"

"Oh!" I stuffed my tingling hand into my lap. "I'm sorry! Yes. Please."

The chair legs squealed against the checkered linoleum as he dragged it back. I watched him fold his tall frame into the seat. He passed another hand through his hair. The strands swept back from his prominent brow and just as quickly flopped back into place when he released. Something silver glinted around his right wrist.

"I'm epileptic," he said, catching me staring at his medical bracelet.

I quickly dropped my gaze to the table. "I'm sorry."

He leaned back in his seat. "As you should be. It is all your fault after all."

It took me a moment to realize he was teasing me. Fingers of heat crept into my cheeks. My lips twitched, but I couldn't think of anything to say. I watched his fingers drum on the surface between us, nails jagged, bitten to the quick and crusted with blood. I glanced down at my own deformed nails and almost laughed at the similarity.

"So, Tammy gave you my number?" He broke the silence.

I nodded. "I asked how her mom got rid of the cancer so quickly and she gave me your card," I explained.

His head bobbed slowly. "What did she tell you?"

My shoulder jerked in a shrug. "Only that you helped. That you removed the cancer."

His hand lifted. The bracelet gleamed as it caught the light. He picked at his thumbnail with his teeth. He seemed to realize what he was doing and quickly stuffed both hands under the table. His gaze flittered away from mine. A faint flush darkened his cheeks.

"I do that, too," I whispered, not sure why — maybe because I didn't want him to be embarrassed. I lifted a hand to show my butchered nails.

The corner of his mouth twisted upwards. "Not the worst habit to fall victim to, I suppose." He became serious. "Did she tell you how it works?"

"Only that you help... for a price."

"My price isn't for everyone," he said.

"I'll pay it!" I said at once. "Whatever it is."

Slow deliberation narrowed his eyes and I wondered if it was wise to let him see just how desperate I was.

"Who is it?"

"Pardon?"

He folded his arms over his chest. "The person you're trying to help. Who is it?"

I bit my lip, eyes falling to the table. "My great-grandmother."

His eyebrows flickered up in surprise. "What does she have?"

I shook my head. "She doesn't have anything. She's almost a hundred years old."

He seemed to hesitate before saying, "You know I can't stop death, right?"

Anxiety twisted knots inside me. "You helped Tammy's mom. She was dying."

"That was different." He shifted forward in his seat, dropping his voice so as not to be heard by the boy reading behind the counter. "I can cure most diseases, mend the odd broken bone, patch up a bruise or scrape, but I can't actually stop the person from aging."

"How are you able to do what you do?" I asked.

He drew back. "It's just something I've always been able to do. I can't explain it. But I do know that what you're asking... I can't."

"Can you at least try... please?" My voice hitched. Hot tears threatened to spill. "I'll pay you! Just... try!"

He sighed, combing his fingers through his hair. "I can't promise—" His palm came up when I opened my mouth to speak. His pale eyes bore into mine. "I need you to really hear me, okay?"

I nodded, hope boiling up inside me like a dame ready to explode. He must have seen it in my eyes, because he groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Tessa," he said slowly, carefully, like someone afraid of breaking a child's heart. "I can't stop your grandma from dying, do you understand? I can't stop that. But I can take away any pain she may be having, make the passing... smoother."

That wasn't what I wanted! Yes, I wanted her not to be in pain. Yes, I wanted her to go comfortably. But I wanted her to live! Then a thought occurred to me; it was the pain that kept her bedridden. It was the pain that made her weak. Maybe if she wasn't in pain, she'd get better.

"Okay!" I said, focusing on Kieran once more. "Take her pain away."

His eyes narrowed warily. "You understand that I can't keep her from dying, right?"

I nodded. "I understand, but maybe once the pain is gone, she'll be okay."

His teeth flashed in a wince. "Tessa—"

I shook my head. "I get it! It's not guaranteed, but I want to try. Even if it doesn't work and she passes anyway, at least..." I swallowed the lump in my throat. "At least she won't have been in pain."

He was watching me with an odd expression on his face when I glanced up. It was the look of someone who didn't quite understand what they were facing, like he wasn't sure if it would bite him or not. I tried not to fidget under the bold scrutiny.

"Will you do it?" I asked, breaking the silence when it became apparent that he wouldn't.

After a minute of hesitation, he gave a short nod. "But I get half my payment up front."

Ice-cold dread lurched in the pit of my stomach. I willed myself not panic, not to kick myself for never asking what his asking price was. I didn't have very much money. Most of what we did have was spent on gram's medication, hospital and private nurse bills, but I'd been saving every penny I made working odd jobs over the summers since I was fifteen. There wasn't much in the tin can I kept under my mattress, but I would somehow get what he was asking.

I dampened my lips. "Wha—what do you want?"

He was staring again, no longer with curiosity, but with a hunger so bright the heat of it lashed against me. My chest tightened as I met his eyes, saw the predator behind them, watching me, caressing every inch of me. Coils of fire laced through my veins, paralyzing me. He slipped forward. His chair creaked as he folded his arms on the table. The scent of fresh rain, mint and grass washed over me. His eyes, I realized, were the pale blue of the arctic. His lips parted and I held my breath.

"I want one night with you."

****

He walked me to the car ten minutes later, our combined footfalls echoing in the muggy twilight. My keys jingled between my numb fingers.

"I want one night with you." My stomach muscles clenched every time his words looped through my head.

Did he mean sex? I wanted to ask. I should have asked. But it was such a shock. Things like that didn't happen outside of movies. People didn't actually use sex as payment, did they? Or was I really that naive?

We stopped next to gram's car. I couldn't look at him. The light from the streetlamp glinted off the keys. I watched the spark trace the curve of a T-shaped keychain.

I moistened my lips, my insides in chaos. "When—when did you...?"

"I could pick you up tomorrow," he said, thankfully not making me finish. "Is that okay?"

No! I wanted to shout. It was not okay. How could he think it was okay? How could he think this was normal? But I'd promised. I promised that I would do whatever he wanted, that I would give anything he wanted. God, how was I supposed to know that he would want that?

"Tomorrow is fine." My voice hitched. Tears sprung to my eyes.

Damn it!

"Seven?"

I just nodded, turning away, fumbling with the keys, too blinded, too shaken by emotions to find the keyhole. Fear of breaking down right there had me scrambling faster for escape.

"Hey." His warm fingers closed over my icy ones. "You okay?"

I willed myself to calm down, to block the terror encasing me. "Fine." I lied, staring transfixed by how easily his hand dwarfed mine. "I just need to get home."

He didn't stop me when I snatched my hand back from him. He didn't speak when I threw myself into the car. He didn't move when I tore out of there.

****

I didn't sleep that night. When I wasn't pacing, I was tossing and turning. Again-and-again I told myself it wasn't too late to back down. That I could. But then I would hear the steady beep of grandma's heart monitor and I knew I wouldn't. I had to do this. I had to follow through.

Maybe I could negotiate with him, work something out. Offer him money instead.

By late that afternoon, I was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Claudette, grandma's nurse, eyed me curiously when I walked in, then walked out of the kitchen for the thirtieth time for no reason, too anxious to sit down.

Half an hour before Kieran was due to arrive, I chose a simple, purple sundress imprinted with tiny lavender flowers. I stuffed my stash of money into a small clutch purse, threw the strap cross-wise over my chest and left my room.

Halfway to the stairs, I stopped and glanced at grandmother's door. I could hear her talking to Claudette, could hear the machines go crazy when she fell victim to a fit of coughs.

When Kieran picked me up precisely at seven, I was more convinced than ever that I would do whatever it took to help grandma — even if it meant sex.

"All right?" he said.

I didn't dare look at him. "Where are we going?"

"To the festival de Lumière by the pier," his fingers drummed on the wheel. "I thought you might like to see it."

Confusion had me glancing in his direction. "I don't understand."

He made a smooth turn. "What do you mean?"

I took a deep breath, warding back the hot red pooling into my face. "It's a little... open, isn't it?"

A thin crinkle formed between his eyebrows. His lips pursed thoughtfully. "Ooookay..." he ruffled a hand through his hair, eyes never leaving the road. "Did you have somewhere else in mind?"

The heat was uncontrollable now, rushing up, burning a path up my neck to sting the back of my eyes. "Why are you asking me? I've never done this before!"

His eyebrows were touching his hairline, his eyes wide when he darted a glance in my direction. "Seriously?"

My jaw dropped, outraged. "Do I look like the sort of girl who would do something like that with just anyone?" Was it the dress?

He rubbed the back of his head. "I'm not sure it's safe to answer that."

"You think I look like a prostitute?" I exclaimed.

We narrowly missed clipping the back fender of the Toyota in front of us when he suddenly jerked the wheel hard to the right, yanking us out of traffic. The wheels grounded against gravel as he pulled to a stop on the shoulder of the road. He turned nearly all the way around in his seat to face me.

"Who said anything about prostitutes?"

"Well, you did!" Didn't he? I no longer had any idea what was going on.

"I did not!" He looked genuinely outraged. "I just wanted to take you to see the lights at the pier."

"I don't understand that!" I barked back.

"What's not to understand? I want to take you to see the lights!" he said very slowly, pronouncing each word carefully.

"Why?" I shot back. "I don't expect you to wine and dine me before... before..." I bit my lip, certain my face was glowing.

He sat back, head cocked to the side, eyes narrowed. "Before what?"

"You know what!" I retorted, turning my face away, wishing I could just die already.

"No, I really don't think I do." I jumped when he lightly slipped his fingers through mine and gave a gentle tug. "Tessa?" his fingers moved up to take my chin, forcing me to face him. "What did you think was going to happen tonight?"

I pulled free, too humiliated not to burst into tears if I looked at him. "Just what you said!"

I dared a sidelong peek at him when he took too long to respond. He was staring up at the sky, face pinched in concentration. I knew the moment it dawned on him. His lips parted, his eyes widened. He gave a soft 'Oh!' of surprise. A pink tongue slipped over his bottom lip. His eyes were dancing with silent laughter when they dropped back down to mine. I quickly looked away.

"That wasn't what I meant, Tessa," he murmured quietly. "I just wanted to take you out."

I hugged my middle, silently praying I wouldn't throw up in relief. "Why couldn't you just say that?"

A soft sound escaped him, a chuckle. "You're right. I'm sorry. I didn't word it properly. I wasn't thinking very clearly when I said it."

I stole a peek at him from beneath my lashes. "What do you mean?"

He sat back a little, rubbing his jaw. "Well, it's not often I meet someone like you."

My head jerked up. "Someone like me?"

His hands came up. "Let me finish!" He reached over and lightly tucked a curl behind my ear. "You interest me. I wanted to get to know you better."

I felt my eyes narrow. "Is this how all your... clients pay you for your services?"

He laughed. "No. Everyone else pays me in cash." His fingers glided down the side of my cheek, sending tendrils of fire skating down my spine. "Like I said, I wanted to spend more time with you." His head tipped to the side. "Is that okay?"

I felt my lips bow into a smile. "Next time, don't be so cryptic."

"Deal." His grin twisted mischievously. He raked a tongue over his teeth. "So all this time, you thought we were going to..."

I dropped my blistering face into my hands. "Ah! Stop!"

His laughter drowned out the crunch of tires as he pulled off the shoulder and slipped back into traffic.

The sun was pouring gold and crimson into the Pacific Ocean when we arrived. The Festival de Lumière glowed brilliant against the dwindling daylight. Fairy lights looped through arches of white roses, twinkled from bushes and swayed in the breeze over our heads. Lanterns dangled from trees, floated in ponds and lined the ivory bridge joining the festival of lights to the pier. It all looked so magical.

"It's beautiful!" I breathed.

Couples passed us, arm-in-arm, looking as entranced as I felt. A prickle of something sparked in my chest as I wondered how we appeared to others. Did they think we were a couple? I pushed the thought aside in fear of blushing.

"Would you object to going on a few rides with me?" he asked.

God I hope I'm not blushing!

"No, I'm all for rides," I said, loving the way the lights pooled in his eyes and shone in his hair.

He beamed. "Great! I'll show you my favorite one."

I followed his lead through the boardwalk.

"Your favorite is the Ferris Wheel?" I asked dubiously.

He grinned. "Got something against the wheel?"

I shook my head. "No, I just never pictured you as the Ferris Wheel kinda guy. Maybe the roller coaster or the zipper, but not this."

"Well, I'll have you know that, if done right, the Ferris Wheel is the best ride at the fair."

My laugh escaped without consent from me. "Really?"

"Yup."

We boarded five minutes later. The bar was slammed into place in front of us. I grabbed it like a lifeline. Kieran lounged back comfortably, hands in his lap. I stiffened as we swooped up backwards.

"Don't like heights?" he teased.

"I have nothing against heights," I replied stiffly. "It's meeting the concrete from the top that bothers me."

He chuckled. "The top is the best part. You get to see for miles." He shifted, rocking forward as he tried to adjust his position. The seat rocked with him.

I yelped. My stomach dropped to my knees and I lunged for him, sinking my nails into his biceps. "Oh God!"

Smart man, he kept the laughter I could see in his eyes at bay as he pried one hand free and threaded our fingers together. "It's all right. I got you."

"Just don't rock the seat!" I moaned through my teeth.

I could see him biting the inside of his cheek. His lips were twitching, but he wisely kept his amusement in check.

All too quickly, the ride ended and Kieran was helping me off the ramp. He never released my hand, I noticed, not even as we made our way up and down the pier. I didn't mind.

"So tell me more about your special abilities," I said as we bought ice cream and wandered down to the beach.

He shrugged. "Nothing really to tell."

I licked a stray droplet of chocolate as it rolled over my fingers. "Do your parents know?"

He shook his head.

"Why not?"

"It just never felt like the right time. My sister Kali knows."

"The girl who answered the phone?"

He nodded. "I'm sorry if she was... abrupt. She's doesn't approve of what I do. Plus, she's not the friendliest person in the world."

"Why doesn't she approve?" I tried slurping at another steady stream of melted chocolate running down the cone, marveling at how quickly it seemed to be coming apart despite the cool, night air.

"She thinks I'm going to get hurt. Neither of us knows much about this gift so we're never sure what to expect, especially with my epilepsy."

"Then why do you do it?" I gave up trying to control the disaster in my hand.

He stopped walking and turned to me, ice cream already devoured, lips quirked in the corners. He reached over and gently wiped at a chocolate smear on the tip of my nose. I blushed.

"To help people," he answered. "What's the point of having these... powers if I can't do something useful with them?"

"So you can really heal people?"

He nodded. "Most of the time. If it's really bad, I can only take the pain."

"What's really bad?" I asked.

He scratched the back of his neck. "There was a guy who got hit by a car, broke every bone in his body. I was the first to get to him. He died in the hospital." I didn't miss the tightness in his voice.

We didn't speak of his abilities again. The conversation veered away to family, books, favorite music and what we were going to do when summer ended. Gradually, we meandered through the attractions, going in no real direction as we prolonged the night.

"I had a really great time tonight," I said as we passed over the bridge, our fingers interlocked. I truthfully couldn't recall us ever letting go.

He stopped at the arch and went to the stone railing. He leaned back against it and pulled me between his parted feet. My heart tripped.

"I did too." A ghost of a grin darkened his lips. "Although, your plans for tonight sounded equally... intriguing."

I frowned, confused. "My plans...?" Realization hit me like a two-ton truck. "That wasn't—I didn't...!" I exclaimed, mortified.

His laughter filled the air. His hands worked their way to my waist, burning me through my dress. My breath caught as I was reeled closer. Our thighs touched.

"Do you have any objections to kissing on the first date?"

So many things about that question threw me for a loop, but the only thing that blurted out was, "First date?"

His lashes dropped a little, hooding his eyes. "Well, I was kind of hoping for another."

Another. This was a date and he wanted another! I wanted to jump and squeal and do cartwheels.

"Me too!" I breathed, a little too fast, a little too breathless.

He grinned. "Good to know. Now... about that kiss?"

My heart ragged against the confines of my ribs. I shook my head. "No objections."

He didn't swoop in as I'd expected. He took a moment to brush hairs off my flushed cheeks, to caress the curve of my jaw with his fingertips, to trace the curve of my bottom lip. He had me in complete pieces, a melted puddle of want, before his head lowered and his mouth touched mine.

It was like kissing embers; my very soul blistered with the heat. I was drowning in sunlight, floating on hot, summer winds. The solid ground beneath me vanished and I was falling, falling, falling heedlessly into space and time, lost in the scent of musk, spices and leather. On his tongue, I tasted mint and chocolate, and I knew I would never be able to face either without thinking about that moment again.

"No...!" I grabbed him, holding on tight when he began to pull away.

"Shit!" he growled into my throat, his voice strained as if he were in pain. "Tessa..." Another meeting of lips. "I've wanted to do that since I saw you last night."

I trembled hard. "Again!" I burned, realizing too late how licentious that sounded. "I'm sorry."

His fingers tipped my face so I was falling into his eyes. His free arm hooked my middle, pulling me flush against him with a single yank. The solid length of him felt hard against the softness of mine. His heat enveloped me like a blanket.

"You apologize too much!" I heard him growl seconds before his lips slammed back down over mine, this time with an angry vengeance, like he wanted to hurt me, hurt us both, like he just couldn't get enough.

His fingers gouged into my back, bruising flesh as he crushed me violently into his chest. His teeth cut into my lips, nipping, sucking and making them swell. Then, his tongue was invading, plundering and conquering mine into submission, and I was gasping, and moaning, and clutching at him to keep him from stopping, because if he stopped... the thought, the heart-stopping, the mind numbing... the torturous thought was just too much, too much and I'd die. I just knew it.

"God, Tessa, where have you been all my life?" he panted, ripping a fiery trail down the length of my neck to my collarbone. His tongue dripped into the hollow of my throat, tasting the heady moan that vibrated through the skin separating us. I tangled my fingers through his hair, fisting and holding him to me while he melted the skin off my bones with his mouth.

Then, just like that, he pulled back.

His ravenous gaze bore into mine, wolf-like. "Need to stop." He licked his lips, staring hungrily at mine. "Need to get you home."

I was too much of a melted mess to argue. I let him take me home, walk me to the porch and brush a quick kiss to my mouth.

"Call me tomorrow?"

I nodded, barely suppressing the giddy delight bubbling up inside me.

With a smile and a wave, he jogged back to the jeep. I watched him drive out of sight.

****

I went to see grandma first thing the next morning, guilt warring with the excitement of telling her about Kieran. I poked my head through the opening of her door.

"Grandma?"

"About time," she croaked. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten me."

I pushed the door open all the way and slipped inside. "I'm sorry."

She waved a dismissive hand. "I heard you were out all night."

Heat pooled in my cheeks. I looked down.

"What's his name?" she teased with a grin.

There was no stopping the beaming smile that stretched my face. "Kieran, and he's amazing."

Grandma Lou smiled. "Well, come over here and tell me."

I did. I told her everything, except about his abilities. That was something I didn't think he'd want me to share without his permission. By the time I finished, the smile on my face had begun to hurt, but I couldn't stop. I was overflowing with happiness.

"He sounds lovely," she said. "I'm so happy you found someone that makes you float on air. You know I want to meet him, don't you?"

"You will." Soon, I added to myself.

I waited until three in the afternoon before finding the courage to pick up the phone and dial Kieran's number. I paced the kitchen, nibbling on my lip as I waited for him to pick up.

The line clicked and a sharp, female voice punctured the silence. "What?"

"Hello!" I said, hoping I didn't sound as intimidated as I felt. "Is Kieran there? It's Tessa."

A moment of silence, then a deep inhale.

"You're the girl he was with yesterday." It sounded like an accusation. "You're the one that called the other night too. The one he went to 'help'."

I didn't know what to say, so I just said, "Is he there?"

"He might be," she said cryptically. "Tell me, Tessa," she said my name as if it were an insult, "do you like my brother?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation, although it was none of her business and I wanted to tell her so. "Very much."

"Then maybe you should leave him alone before you kill him! You have no idea what this bullshit does to him. If you did you wouldn't ask him to put his life in jeopardy for your stupid problems. So, if you really care about him, you'll fu—"

"Kali!" The voice was male. It was sharp, but hollow, like the person was just in too much pain to formulate words properly.

"What the hell are you doing out of bed?" Kali snarled directly into the phone.

There was a shuffle. "Who's that?"

"No one! Wrong number." The line went dead.

I stared at the receiver in my hand, Kali's words echoing in my ear. The light, happy feeling in my chest deflated. The buzz faded, and I was crashing from the ultimate high, to an all time low in seconds. But no sooner had I put the phone down and taken a step back, when it rang.

I hesitated, but picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Tessa?"

My chest clenched at the sound of his strained voice. He was breathing hard as if the effort cost him. "What's wrong?"

He made a choking sound. It might have been a chuckle. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Kieran!"

I heard a sigh. "The neighbor's kid fell out of his tree house this morning."

My heart seized. "Oh no!"

"He's okay. He—he..." he wheezed, struggling to catch his breath.

"Kieran?" I gripped the phone tighter to my ear.

"I'm okay." But he didn't sound okay. He sounded like he couldn't breathe, like an elephant was sitting on his chest, crushing out all his oxygen.

"You don't sound okay!" I argued. "What happened, Kieran?"

"It's fine," he said. "This is normal."

I sat down hard in a chair. "What's normal?"

I heard him gasping. There was a rustle, then Kali was on the phone again.

"Why won't you go away!" she growled at me.

Kieran rasped something I couldn't hear.

"What's wrong with him?" I demanded, ignoring her tone.

"What's wrong with him is his stupid need to always help people. Do you honestly think that what he does comes without a price? Where do you think that pain, that cancer... that broken leg goes when he takes it from you? He takes it inside himself! Into his own body. He saves you, but he spends the next week in bed, vomiting blood."

Kieran was shouting in the background. I couldn't make out what he was saying, but I guessed he was telling Kali to stop.

"I didn't know," I choked, feeling a chunk of ice break inside me, releasing splinters into my bloodstream.

Kali scoffed. "Of course you didn't know! He won't tell you that part. Now do you see why you need to leave him alone?"

I hung up. I set the receiver down on the counter and stepped away from it, shaking with fury. My sneakers made a loud, rude noise as I spun on my heel and ran into the sitting room. I snatched up the phonebook from beneath the coffee table and flipped it open. In a matter of minutes, I had Kieran's address, the car keys and a head full of steam as I bowled out of the house. The drive to his place went by in a blur. I had no idea I'd arrived until I found myself charging up his driveway.

A girl, maybe twenty, threw open the door. Eyes the blue of the Arctic Ocean narrowed at the sight of me. Her lips pursed. "What are you doing here?"

"Where is he? I want to talk to him."

She flicked back a coil of ebony off her shoulder and folded her arms. "Well, he's resting."

I opened my mouth when the door behind her opened all the way and Kieran staggered into view, clutching one arm across his chest. His hair was in disarray, hanging in damp clumps over his sweaty brow. With his pale eyes and his ashen complexion, he looked almost corpse-like.

"You're supposed to be in bed!" Kali snapped at him.

"I'm fine!" he panted through his teeth. "Stop taking it out on Tessa. She didn't do this."

"No, but she wants you to do something equally stupid, doesn't she?"

"She didn't know!"

Kali didn't seem to care one way or another.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I cut in. "Why didn't you say something! I would never have asked you to..." I shoved my hands back through my hair.

He edged a little closer, wincing with every step and I wondered just what was wrong with him. He kept an arm pressed into his chest as if keeping his ribs from falling apart.

"What happened to you?" I demanded.

"The kid caved his stupid chest in," Kali supplied, ignoring Kieran's scowl. "Idiot here jumped the fence and rushed over there, healed him before his parents came running into the yard."

"He's a five-year-old kid, Kay!" Kieran said.

"I don't care if he's a five-month-old kid! People die, Kieran. It's a fact of life. You can't always swoop in and save them."

People die. It's a fact of life. She sounded so much like Grandmother Lou I almost flinched.

"Are you going to be okay?" I asked, anxiety eating at me. "Should you be at the hospital?"

He shook his head. "It only lasts a few days. I'll be fine."

"What are you doing here anyway?" Kali asked me.

"I came to yell at you," I told Kieran. "I was going to tell you that you're a jerk for not telling me that what you do does hurt you. I was going to tell you that no matter how much I love my grandma, I would never have allowed you to put yourself at risk because of me, because I'm selfish."

"You're not selfish," he croaked, wincing and grabbing a fistful of his shirt front with a white-knuckled grip. "You wanted to help your grandma."

I shook my head. "But she doesn't want the help. I didn't want to listen when she asked me to let her go."

"You love her."

A weak chuckle escaped me. "Yeah, I do. She's the only person I have left." I stared down at my sneakers, biding my time until the burn behind my eyes subdued and I could face him again without bursting into tears. "Our deal is off. I don't want your help anymore."

His eyes widened. "Tessa..."

I shook my head, taking several steps back. "I'm not going to let you hurt yourself for me. There isn't enough money or dates in the world to... no." I turned away, starting down his driveway. I paused at the end, glanced back over my shoulder and gave him a small smile. "You still owe me a second date by the way."

****

Ten months later...

Claudette shook me awake the night of my eighteenth birthday to tell me Grandma Lou was asking for me. The alarm clock read a little after three in the morning, and I knew, even before I untangled myself from the sheets and from the arm and leg Kieran had thrown around me in his sleep, that this was it. My heart was in ribbons before I was even fully awake.

Kieran came awake as I was dragging my robe on. "Tessa?"

I didn't glance back at him as I ran to the door. "Grams," was all I said. I heard him lunge to his feet, hurriedly dragging on his clothes and scrambling after me.

Gram's room was dark, lit solely by the lamp next to her bed. All the curtains were drawn, blocking out the full moon outside. I had known this day was coming for a few weeks, ever since grams began cutting out all light from filling her room, when she stopped speaking, when she started sleeping more and eating less. I knew.

"Grams?" I whispered.

The light shone over the clear oxygen tube pressed under her nose as she rolled her head towards the sound of my voice.

She looked frail. Yet she smiled when she saw me. "Come closer. It's not time yet."

I edged as close as I dared.

"Closer!" she rasped.

I moved until I sat beside her. She raised the hand closest to me and I grabbed it, careful not to press too hard.

"I'm sorry."

The band in my chest tightened. "No—!"

She shook her head. "I didn't want it to be tonight. Not tonight. Not on your birthday, but it doesn't seem like I have much of a choice."

"It's okay." I shattered like glass.

Her fingers flexed in mine. "There are things I need to tell you." When she was certain I wouldn't interrupt, she continued. "The car, the house and everything in it, is yours—"

"Grams, don't—"

"Quiet!" she scolded, shaking my hand. "I don't have much time. In the study, in my writing desk, I have a notebook. Your mother's number and address is inside. Make peace with her, Tessa girl. You owe it to yourself."

"I will." I would have agreed to anything.

"My bank accounts have already been transferred to your name. There isn't much in there, but you'll be okay for a little while." Her gaze became intense. "I need to ask you to do something for me, Tessa."

"Anything!"

"Don't bury me. I know I have a spot next to grandpa, but I don't want to be in the dark for the rest of eternity. Can you cremate me?"

The ringing between my ears was deafening. My entire body convulsed with every sob I tried to contain. But I nodded. I clutched her paper-thin hand to my lips and nodded as tears poured down my face.

"Take care of her. I'll know if you don't."

A gentle hand rested on my trembling shoulder and I knew Kieran had come up behind me. I couldn't look at him.

"I will. I promise."

Grams turned her gaze back to me. "Take care of yourself, do you hear? Just because I'm not here doesn't mean I won't box your ears from the other side." She offered me a small smile. "I love you."

"Tessa..." Kieran pulled me away, pulled me to my feet, and broke my connection with grams just as her fingers went slack in my grasp. His arms banded around me, forcing me into his chest, into his heat and comfort. His hand cupped the back of my head, pushing my face into his shoulder, refusing me the chance to look back.

I beat against him, only vaguely conscious of my wails muffling the sharp blare of machines as everything flat lined. I thrashed and begged for her to come back, but he held me. His warm breath tickled the hairs at my temple.

"I'm sorry, Tessa. I am so sorry."

Then I was just clinging to him, my last lifeline; the only thing holding me together. He guided me from the room. I let him. Claudette hurried in as we left. Kieran took me downstairs. He set me down at the kitchen table and started to pull away.

"Stay," I whispered grabbing his hand.

"Let me make you some tea first."

I shook my head, pulling him back to me. "Just... stay with me. Please?"

He gathered me back up into his arms, resting his chin on the top of my head. "Always," he promised.

I closed my eyes as the house I grew up in shifted around me, humming with its own grief. A heavy blanket of sorrow soaked the air. The only peace was right there, in Kieran's embrace. He was my rock, had been for months. He had been unwavering in his support and in his affections. He made me laugh when the world had felt bleak and cold. He held me, loved me, trusted me to keep his secret. And I knew I would never have made it through that night without him.

"I love you," I whispered into the soft material of his shirt, speaking the words for the first time.

He tipped my face up, smoothed away my tears with the pad of his thumb and peered adoringly into my eyes. "Love you, too, Tessa."

And I knew I would never be alone again.

Learn more about Airicka Phoenix and The Touch Series at <http://airickaphoenix.com/Author/>

Touching Smoke is available now

#

# Wanting  
By Airicka Phoenix

She played coy, with her golden eyes hidden behind dark lashes. In the pale shower of moonlight, her sun-kissed body glowed, a Goddess amongst mortals, and I was brought to my knees with images of hot flesh on silk sheets; her body tangled with mine, my teeth replacing hers on her bottom lip. Our gazes locked and the beast in me growled at the rose petals darkening her cheeks. I put no leash on my smirk. I let it claim the moment, exposing the predator prowling inside, and the promise that I would have her before the pregnant moon fell into the horizon and the sky blushed with dawn. She let her lashes drop, splaying like thick fans over high cheekbones. Her chocolate-brown curls curtained between us, hiding her from me. My teeth bared in triumph.

Good.

I wasn't there to make her comfortable. She had come to me, to my woods, to my home. She had broken my solitude, had stolen my anger, and she may not have known it then, but she had sealed her own fate.

Flames leapt in the pit, bobbing and weaving with the night. It painted sunsets over bared skin. It swayed slow and alluring in the gleaming eyes watching the dance. But I watched her. I didn't take my eyes off her.

It's All Hallows' Eve, little luv, I wanted to tell her, taunt her and toy with her. And you'll be my treat!

Around us, in a stridency of riotous laughter, chatter and merriment, others danced; they drank and celebrated unaware of just how close they'd come to annihilation. They'd summoned me away from my brooding prowl through the woods by the sound of drunken chaos, by the garbage they so carelessly let carpet my grounds, by the tangled mess of bodies pressed into my trees. It had been enough to paint my world red, to pour gas on my blood and set me on fire. I'd had every intention of using that fire to melt the skin off their bones... then I'd seen her, and my blood had burned for another purpose entirely.

My gaze flickered to her again, taking in everything from the unbound mane cascading down her slender spine to the simple, white gown cinched in the middle with a thick band of gold to the tiny flats on her feet. No wings. No haloes. No glitters or gems. She stood alone, a beautiful angel in the dark, yet every male eye within throwing distance was drawn to her alluring beauty, undressing her, touching her with their thoughts. My teeth tightened. I threw a warning glower at a boy who looked just about ready to make his move.

"I wouldn't," I said when he blinked in surprise. "I'll kill ya before you even get to her and bury your body in the woods." It was not a threat, but a promise. "There's a smart lad. Run along," I muttered when he blanched and scurried away, a pup with his tail between his legs.

The others eyed me. They eyed her, no doubt weighing their chances. But I didn't wait for them to grow a backbone; I broke away from the fire separating me from what was mine and I went to her.

I knew the moment she realized my intentions. Her eyes widened. They darkened. Her lips parted. Her cheeks flushed, and I knew, I knew like I knew my own name — she was mine.

****

From across the fire, dressed in power, shielded by danger, his eyes burned through me. I felt every penetrating sweep like hands pulling at me, caressing me, taking without permission and I floundered in my flesh, begging for a place to hide from the dark things he promised without words.

He moved a beautiful masterpiece of sinewy limbs, slender muscles and hair the shade of stolen midnight. It gleamed with hints of blue, falling in a sleek waterfall to the small of his back. Wisps darkened his brow, his eyes. Leather shone where it encased his limber legs. The waistline fell strategically to tapered hips, teasing onlookers with a naked torso skinned in gold. Thick bands of black clasped his wrists and a leather cord holding a silver medallion hung from his neck, falling to the center of beautifully carved breastplates. The fire glinted off the sphere, drawing eyes and keeping them there.

God.

He's coming!

The little voice in my head had no reason to point out the obvious. Every girl within viewing distance could see he was coming. He was walking, moving air, time... space with every dominating stride. A whip of flames lashed through me. Time froze. The noise vanished. My heart was a cacophony of panic. I wanted to run. I wanted to hide. Then he was standing there, watching me with fire in his eyes and I was frozen. I was melting.

"'ello, luv." Voice harboring the seductive lilt of Ireland poured through the air like melted caramel, sweet, thick and smooth.

I wasn't the only girl to sigh her heart away.

"Hello." Oh good, I still knew how to speak. But my relief was short lived because he smiled and my lungs forgot I needed them to live.

Eyes so dark I was surprised I couldn't see the stars in them swept past my shoulder to the emptiness behind me.

"Alone?" He cocked his head to the side, knocking dark fringes into his face. I fisted my fingers and stuffed them behind me, blocking the temptation to touch.

I moistened my lips. "No, I'm here with someone."

Something feral leapt behind his eyes, but it could have been a trick of the light, because it was just as quickly gone and he was straightening, tucking hands into his pockets. "Are ya now? And where might he be then?" When I couldn't answer, because I had no idea, he grinned a little. "Not very smart of him to be leaving you here alone where any scoundrel could steal ya away."

The statement almost made me laugh. "Don't think I can handle a scoundrel or two?"

He moved a fraction of a step closer. His heat burned me. I nearly gasped. "Aye, lass, I think you could. Doesn't mean I think you should."

I bit my lip and dropped my gaze. "I think the only scoundrel here tonight is you." I peered at him through my lashes. "Tell me, do girls really fall for that smoky, Irish drawl of yours?"

His lips bowed and his eyes gleamed with the challenge. "I don't know. Do they?"

"I think accents are overrated." I lied instead of telling him only a lunatic wouldn't melt in a gooey puddle at the sound of his voice.

"Ah, perhaps, but..." His grin was crooked, his eyes smoldering, and when he raked his tongue over his teeth, he was everything my mother had warned me about. "Ya know what they say about Irish men, don't ya?" His voice dropped to a husky purr that skated down my spine like the expert fingers of a pianist. "We'll ruin ya for all other men if ya let us."

Every fiber of my being, my soul... my sanity, begged him to do it! Ruin me. It was only the tiny voice in the distance that kept me rooted, kept me from lunging on him. It was the quickly unraveling tether reminding me that this wasn't me! I wasn't this person. I didn't just throw myself at random strangers, I didn't come undone by a pretty face, and I most certainly did not go up in flames by a touch. But the second he raised a hand and skimmed the tips of his fingers down the length of my arm I was done. It was as if that simple gesture had the power to destroy me. My heart tripped over itself. It stumbled, struggling to catch up to the sudden rush of heat that spiked in the pit of my stomach. My knees quivered. My toes curled. My world tipped off its axis.

"Nora?"

I broke the surface back into reality with a choked gasp. His masterful spell, like glittery confetti, burst around me, leaving me shaken and unsteady as the rest of the world roared back into focus.

"Nora." My name left his lips in a husky murmur of wonderment. I shivered. I had never shivered at the sound of my own name before. But then again, I had never met a person who could make me forget it before either.

"Hey!" A hand closed hard around my arm, jarring me back to reality and the reason I was even there.

Eyes the shiny black of the ocean at twilight rose past my shoulder to the hulk of a man standing there. Then dropped to the hand claiming my upper arm and narrowed dangerously. My throat went dry.

Brad Hensley, captain of the football team and my date, swung a meaty arm around my shoulders and snapped me into his side the way a frog's tongue snatches a fly into its mouth. "I've been calling you for like ten minutes! We're about to start the game..." His attention turned to the third person in our party. "This guy bothering you?"

I dampened my lips. "No. We were just talking."

Brad looked the stranger over. "I've never seen you before. Are you a Serpent?"

I peeked at the gold, silver and black jersey straining over Brad's bulk, then at the stranger's beautifully naked torso. No. He was definitely not part of our school football team.

"No," the stranger answered in that melodious voice.

Brad straightened to his full six-five and folded his arms. His wide shoulders tightened. His biceps bulged. It was a move I'd seen him use before when he was trying to be intimidating. Brad, I was sure, had been a bear in a past life.

My gaze flicked over to the stranger, searching his face for signs of fear, uncertainty even. But there was none of that there. No. He was amused. Brad probably outweighed him by a hundred pounds and was a solid force of muscle. Yet, the stranger stood there, head cocked to the side; the ghost of a smile haunting his firm lips like Brad was an overindulged puppy doing an adorable trick.

"Well, who the hell are you?" Brad challenged. "What the hell are you doing here? This is a private party!"

"Keane," straight, white teeth flashed in a cutting grin, "and you're trespassing on private land."

Brad's eyes widened. His arms dropped down to his sides. "No shit! We thought this place was like public property. It's the middle of nowhere."

Wickety Bridge and the surrounding wilderness was public property as far as anyone in the town of Mayborn was concerned. No one except the high school kids ever ventured past the perimeter. It was off limits because of bears, but that didn't stop the after game parties, campouts and secret meetings of all kinds.

Keane's eyes narrowed, but his razorblade smile remained firmly in place. "That's the way I like it. It keeps people from hearing my victims scream when I torture them."

Brad blinked. The little hamster turning the wheels inside his head seemed to be working double time trying to wrap his brain around the blunt statement. I watched him, practically seeing the sweat dot his temples and the little tick he always seemed to get in his right eye when he just didn't get it.

Brad wasn't intentionally stupid. He was just lazy. If he applied half the energy he spent chasing girls and playing sports, he'd be the next Einstein. In turn it made me question my own common sense. What the hell was I doing with this idiot?

At long last, he grinned at Keane. "Victims. Right. Funny. You're kidding, right?" Brad pressed when Keane said nothing. Brad snorted. "Whatever, man. Come on, Nora." He grabbed me again, something he'd been doing all night, something that was quickly beginning to wear down the lock keeping me from killing him.

"Damn it, Brad!" I wrenched free of his fat fingers. "Knock it off!"

"I don't think the lady likes being manhandled," Keane said evenly, but there was danger blazing behind his eyes as he bore into Brad. "If you cherish your life, you won't touch her again."

Brad may not have been the sharpest tool in the shed, but even he knew when he was being threatened. "What's it to you anyway? She's here with me!"

Those bottomless eyes swerved to me. They slid over the Goddess dress I'd picked for the Halloween bonfire, lingering a little too long on the slit that ran up the side of the dress before gradually roaming up once more to my face. He seemed to come to some inner conclusion as he confronted Brad again.

"Aye, but she'll be leaving with me."

****

In all truths, I should have been appalled by his audacity. I only just met the guy. He had some serious nerve thinking I would just up and go anywhere with him. What annoyed me most was the fact that, if he asked, I probably would.

Beside me, Brad staggered a moment. His face bunched into one of confusion as he tried to weigh what this new bit of information meant. For the hundredth time that night, I again asked myself why. Why was I with this guy? Then I remembered. That's right, because he asked me and I thought, 'Oh my God! The hottest guy in school was asking me to the Halloween bonfire.' Five minutes after arriving, I was ready to leave. Brad was as interesting as a rusty nail and his friends — who I knew everything about, but they didn't know a thing about me — I may as well not have existed. I was the outcast. The band geek. They were as surprised by Brad asking me as I was. Our circles were as far apart as Pluto and Earth, yet, somehow, during one of his many orbits around himself, Brad had caught a flickering glimpse of me and decided that I was the girl he wanted to grope all night.

Lucky. Me.

Nevertheless, if he grabbed me again, I was prepared to kick his boys up into his throat and walk the two hours home.

"Whatever, man," Brad muttered at long last. He began walking away. "Come on, Nora. The guys are ready to start the game."

"What game?" Keane interrupted smoothly, neatly keeping his hands behind his back and his expression choirboy innocent.

Brad scowled. "What's it to you?"

Keane shrugged. "Well, seeing as how I'm being gracious enough to let you use my land... the least you can do is tell me."

The muscles in Brad's jaw bunched as if he were chewing steal. "Hide and seek!" he barked finally.

A brow winged up on Keane's triangular face. "The children's game?"

Brad bristled. "It's a tradition!"

Long, slender hands went up. Keane shook his head casually. "No offense meant. Please," he flicked his wrist airily, "continue."

I couldn't fault Brad for looking bemused, a little wary. There was nothing in Keane's posture to indicate he was making a mockery of the time honored tradition, yet, everything from the way he hooked his thumbs into his belt loops to the tilt of his head sizzled with amusement.

"Come on, Nora," Brad said at last, his narrowed, blue eyes trained on Keane. "Let's get out of here."

"Perhaps she would rather stay with me," Keane said smoothly. "I'd be more than happy to keep her... entertained." Warm ripples shivered down my spine at the dark intent.

Brad bared his teeth. "Hey, man, back off!"

"Should I leave you two to break out the tape measures?" I interjected before Brad's head could explode. "How about you ask the piece of meat what she wants?"

Keane turned to me. "All right, darling. What would you like?"

I didn't hesitate. "I want to go home."

Brad's face drooped. "But the games are about to begin!"

"A compromise then." Keane stepped forward to take the spot next to me, long, slender fingers tapping his pointy chin. "One quick game. I'll even be... it."

Brad's bushy eyebrows furrowed. "What's the catch?"

Keane clasped his hands behind his back and gave an offhand shrug. "Only that if I find you, you stay. If I don't, you go home."

"It's only fair," Keane continued in that hypnotic voice of his when Brad hesitated.

Brad didn't have to take Keane up on his offer. He and his friends could go to a different place to continue their evening. But it was tradition. It had to be here, in these woods, on this night, although, I doubted anyone knew why. The tradition was so old, the story behind it was no longer even clear.

Keane turned the full force of those eyes on me, and something in me shifted, liquefied... sighed. "Please stay, darling?"

One game. What harm could one game do?

"Fine, but I still think this is a stupid game."

His smile was slow, devastatingly brilliant. "Aye, as do I, but I think we'll both get what we want in the end."

I swallowed hard for no reason at all.

Giving me a wink that made my knees dissolve, Keane went back to giving Brad his full attention. "All right?"

"Let's do it!" Brad gave a clap of his hands. "I'll round everyone up."

He ambled off, leaving me alone with the angel of sin. As though sensing my anxious nerves, those dark pools swerved to the corners of his eyes and pinned mine. Something hot and paralyzing shot through me.

Moonlight spilled over the ridges of his shoulders, trickling down smooth breastplates and a chiseled abdomen. I tried not to trace every line with my eyes.

"Aren't you cold?" I blurted stupidly.

He turned his head ever so slightly in my direction. One eyebrow winged up. "I'll gladly say yes if ya promise to keep me warm." He twisted his entire body so we were face-to-face, barely separated by a foot of space. His teeth flashed in a slow, sly grin when I shivered. "Or would ya like me to do the warming?"

Yes!

"I'm fine!" I muttered, turning my gaze stubbornly forward.

He gave a soft chuckle. "That you certainly are."

I ignored the sly implication.

"All right, listen up!" Brad's commanding voice carried over the small crowd now gathered around us.

Grateful for the distraction, I watched my date rather than the insanity pulling me to the left and the stranger still watching me, touching me with his eyes.

"Who's the guy?" someone shouted from the back.

"He going to be it," Brad said. "Everyone scatter!"

Whoops and hollers filled the clearing as the crowd dispersed, running blindly, a bit wildly into the woods.

Brad took my hand, his palms rough and sweaty. "Come on!"

I nearly tripped on the hem of my skirt as he dragged me forward. "Wait—" I had no idea why, but I didn't want to go! I didn't want to leave.

With a mind of its own, my head whipped around over my shoulder. Tendrils of hair flew across my face, momentarily keeping me from the solitary figure standing in the distance, cloaked in the light of the fire. His dark hair fluttered at his back like a sleek cape. His eyes... his eyes burned straight into me.

"You will be mine soon enough."

Maybe it was the play of fire light splashing across his face, or just a trick of the night, but I could have sworn his lips never moved.

***

The chase was on, the air wrought with tension, with the suspense... with the excitement. The thrill pounded in my blood as I watched the corner of Nora's white skirt flap once before vanishing into the cluster of trees.

I couldn't have planned it all better. True, I hadn't expected to find her tonight. I hadn't expected the connection to be so strong, the want so... addicting. There were stories of the power that bonded mates, but the real thing was a thousand times more potent. Damn I wanted her like a human needed air. I wanted to devour her, consume her, drive her into blinding madness and then let her plummet as hard, as fast, as I had. I already knew she felt it. Every breath she took sang through me. Every flicker of her want blistered me. I was teetering, suspended over eternity and she was the only thing holding me.

"Fifteen seconds, luv," I murmured into the night. "Fifteen seconds and I will end both our suffering."

I waited twelve seconds before setting off after her. It was against the rules, but it was as far as the knot at the back of my belly button would allow her to go, as far away as I was willing to be from her.

'I'm coming, little one,' I thought, tracing my tongue over my bottom lip, already tasting her there.

I didn't care about the others. They could roam aimlessly through the woods for the rest of eternity. They would eventually climb out, get into their cars and leave. I wanted her! She was my prey.

The autumn winds whispered through the naked branches overhead. They swayed and rustled, speaking in a language only those closest to nature understood. I usually took a moment to listen, to enjoy the subtle beauty of my world, but not tonight. I was on the hunt and nothing was going to stop me.

****

I lost Brad. I stopped to adjust my sandal and I asked Brad to wait, but when I'd straightened, I was the only one in the small clearing. He had kept moving.

What an ass!

"Brad!" I called. My voice echoed back at me.

Behind me, something rustled.

I whipped around. "Brad?"

Shadows parted and a tall, lean figure emerged. The moonlight caught the smooth surface of leather pants and glinted off the medallion resting against a beautiful chest. The wind played through strands of shiny ebony. My heart stuttered.

"Not quite," he murmured, advancing on me.

"H—how did you find me?" I was breathing hard. My heart was pounding. The surge of excitement startled me.

His grin was devastating. "You're not exactly stealthy."

"I was lost," I whispered, feeling my cheeks flush.

His teeth flashed in a crooked smile. "And now I've found you. I suppose you know what this means."

I shook my head, dizzy, so dizzy with a strange giddiness.

"It means," he was four steps away now and closing in fast, "that I get to keep you."

I clapped my hands over my mouth as the first giggle poured out, but in no way did that suppress the rest that bubbled up, boiled over. On impulse, a strange, unusual impulse, I snatched up my skirt, spun on my heels and bolted as if I had not a care in the world, as if acting so frivolous and flirty was something I did every day. It was weird, but I didn't stop. I ran, jumping over fallen logs and dodging trees with an agility of a doe. You would think that I knew where every root, branch and stone lay in the pitch darkness. More than that, you would think I actually liked being chased, which I did. I loved it. I wanted him to chase me, catch me. I wanted so much to play this game with him, to be his prey. I wanted him to—

I slammed headlong into something solid. Like a rubber ball off a brick wall, I ricocheted and would have hit the ground if I didn't suddenly find myself grabbed and shoved up against a tree. I was instantly pinned by a lean body.

YES! This! This is what I wanted. To be captured by him.

"Game's over, darling Nora. I win."

"Keane..." I should have been appalled by the weak whimper.

He punctured his growl with a deliberate nip of his teeth against the unsteady pulse at my throat. "You're mine now!"

My lashes swept closed. Hot coals drifted through my bloodstream, burning me up inside while his heat scorched the outside. My lungs shuddered with every desperate snatch of air it could suck in. The shaky inhale-exhale ruffled the silence around us.

What was I doing? What was wrong with me? This wasn't right. I didn't even know the guy.

Yet the moment his lips moved east, my chin tilted, giving him my throat.

"What are you doing?" I croaked, fighting for some shred of sanity, but finding it scattered beyond repair.

"Making sure you keep your promise." His lips made a torturous journey up my jawline.

"What promise?" Why was it so hard to speak?

He nipped lightly on my chin. "The one where you promised to stay if I found you."

I would have happily stayed there, against that tree, with him burning the skin off me with his lips, if that tiny spark of rationality hadn't prickled at the back of my skull.

"I can't." I felt his fingers tighten on my hips. I dampened my lips as he drew back to peer down into my face. "My dad... I can't leave him. I'm all he's got."

A dent formed between his eyebrows and his head dropped slightly to the side, confused. "But you promised."

It was insane! Where was logic? Where was that little voice telling me that this was ridiculous? Why wasn't I shoving him away and telling him he was crazy if he thought I would actually stay there with him forever?

"He needs me," I whispered.

"I need you." The pain in his eyes cut me. I was reaching for him before I could stop myself. My fingers curled over his naked biceps. My nails anchored into the taut flesh, fear of him pulling away ripping inside me.

"I can't leave him."

"Can you leave me?"

No! God no! The very thought had my fingers tightening and my heart aching. Tears burned my eyes.

"Please don't..." I bit my bottom lip, swallowing back the plea. A single tear slipped free.

"Darling." He smoothed the wetness away with the pad of his thumb. "Stab me in the heart with a rusty blade, but don't cry."

I pressed a shaky hand to my brow. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Nothin's wrong with ya, luv," he sighed, leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my temple. "Come on. I'll take ya home."

****

"That's Brad's car!" Nora exclaimed when I yanked open the passenger side door of the jeep.

"I'll bring it back," I added, "He doesn't need it right now."

The thing was parked a little before Wickety Bridge. I personally would have picked the lime-green Ninja 250, but, as much as I wanted Nora to put her arms around me and cradle me between her thighs, I just didn't trust myself not to change my mind, not to throw her over my shoulder and take her back into the woods where she belonged.

"He has the keys," she said, folding her arms over her stomach and shifting from foot-to-foot.

"Your doubt wounds me." I waved a hand to the seat. "Will ya get in?"

The war raged behind her eyes as she darted glances between me and the open door. I knew the moment I had her when her nose wrinkled and her lips pursed in aggravation.

"If we get pulled over, I'm telling the cop you kidnapped me and forced me into the car."

I laughed. "Deal."

She slipped past me and climbed into the seat. I closed the door behind her and rounded the hood to the driver's side. It took less than a second to hotwire the car. I claimed the wheel and turned to face town, all the while feeling Nora's gaze on me.

I could have made her stay. I could have drawn her deeper into the woods where the pull was stronger. I could have had her that very night, but the game wasn't over. Letting the ancient magic do the work for me, to tempt her, lure her... forcing her home wasn't the way I wanted her. When she joined me, it would be because she had finally accepted the bond and me. She would come home because she could no longer stand being away. I would wait.

I pulled up alongside a rusted Camaro and parked. In the next seat, Nora shifted. Her slim fingers twisted in the material of her skirt. Her hesitation told me the sway of the forest still held her. The intensity would eventually calm, but would never go away. She was mine and the forest knew it. It would continue to tempt her to come back, to come home. It was the way of the Fay. We were bound to nature and when we found our mate, they too would be bound to the earth. By right, I could have taken her home, made her forget her human life, her friends and family. I could have let her transcend into her Fay skin which would no longer crave that world, but I didn't want her like that. I didn't want to take away her one request—to be with her father. Even if as a Fay she would forgive me, I wanted her to accept her new life her way. I had no doubt she would. It was as much a part of her now as I was. I just had to wait.

Our footsteps broke the quiet as I walked her to the door. She watched her feet the way a mountain climber watches each foothold on a steep cliff. I watched her from the corner of my eyes, her emotions rolling off her, crashing into me through the bond. I felt the swell of nerves, confusion... worry. The later perked my curiosity.

"Thanks for the ride... in a stolen car." She mumbled the last part so I was certain I wasn't supposed to hear it.

I felt my lips twitch. "My pleasure."

Her teeth caught her bottom lip, and I took a step back, resisting the temptation to pry it free and claim it myself.

She took several steps towards the door, hand reaching for the knob. She paused, looked at me, that worry blistering in her eyes. "Will I...?" She stopped, closed her eyes and shook her head. "Never mind. I'll see you around."

I waited until the door closed behind her before letting myself answer, "Oh you will indeed."

****

The stool creaked. It groaned. It creaked again. Then groaned. My biology partner, a lanky boy with braces peered over at me, question mangled with impatience behind his glasses. I stopped my shifting. Instead, my foot took up an erratic patter against the laminate. My pencil rapped against my open book. I shifted forward again. The stool creaked.

"Do you need the bathroom?" Stan, my partner, hissed.

I flashed him an apologetic wince. "Sorry."

He went back to his note-taking. I went back to watching the clock.

It had been the longest three days in history since Halloween. The weekend oozed like thick tar from a bottle. Every second passed with agonizing slowness. But instead of the smothering lethargy ending there, it followed me into the week. Every class seemed five hours long and even my lunch period didn't end fast enough. I wanted to leave. I wanted to get away from the white walls, the persistent chatter, and the confinement. I felt suffocated. Tears of frustration burned behind my eyes. The stool groaned. Please hurry! I silently pleaded.

I was the first one out of my seat and out the door the second the bell rang. Students were just filing out of their classes and I was already at my locker, fumbling, cursing and fighting with the lock. The tears were so close now. I punched my locker, gave it a sharp kick, and gave up. Leaving behind my jacket and flute, I ran blindly out of the school with my biology books squished into my aching chest.

The moment the crisp, autumn air struck my face, I closed my eyes and whimpered. My limbs trembled as I drew in the scent of rotting leaves and pumpkins. But it wasn't enough. It was like trying to breathe through a paper bag. The air was hot, stale... lacking. I couldn't pull enough of it into my lungs. Part of me wondered if this was how a fish felt out of water.

I staggered down the steps, dazed, miserable, feeling like I wanted a deep, dark hole to crawl into. The spiraling depression made no sense when only that Friday, I had been fine. Maybe I was coming down with something.

The thought was still churning in my mind when the wind shifted and I was rushed by the scent of honeysuckles, moss, freshly turned dirt, rain and sunbaked bark. My body was turning, spinning, pulsing even before my mind could catch up to the meaning behind the trickle of liquid gold that warmed the chill soaking my bones. I was running, pushing my way through the crowd. My heart drummed inside my skull. I rounded the red-bricked building, and there he was, leaning against a black Firebird, hands tucked into black cargos. He wore a t-shirt in faded black and his hair was down his back in a waterfall of ebony. My heart leapt in my chest.

"Keane!" It was no more than my lips forming his name and he was more than twenty feet away, but his head came up. His face softened into a smile, and I was running again. "Keane!"

He caught me with little effort when I launched myself into his waiting arms. My books crashed to the asphalt beneath our feet, forgotten. His arms locked around me. His fingers closed in my hair, pressing my face into the curve of his neck. I fisted the back of his shirt, grappling him close.

He smelled like sin. He felt like heaven. I had never felt more found, more complete. The hovering dark cloud vanished, and I was drowning in pure sunshine.

I was home.

"You came back!" I breathed into the front of his shirt.

"I never left."

My head dropped back so I could peer into his face. "I never saw you."

The corner of his mouth quirked in a lopsided grin. He smoothed a hooked finger over my cheek. "You weren't paying attention."

Realization flooded my neck and face with heat. I pulled reluctantly out of his embrace. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

He tucked a stray coil of hair behind my ear. His fingers grazed my cheek and my spine erupted in shivers. "I missed ya, too, luv. Severely."

"What are you doing here?" I whispered.

He tucked his hands into his pockets. "Hoping you'd give a lad a chance and let him take ya home."

My brow quirked. "Depends, who's the lad?" Was I really flirting?

In a single fluid motion that I never saw coming, I was backed into the side of a truck, caged by the hands Keane anchored on the truck bed on either side of my head. His nose bumped mine. His breath tangled with mine. I fell into his eyes, chips of onyx against a golden face.

"You've destroyed me," he murmured. His gaze dropped to my lips, parting them. They lifted again to mine, burning me with the hunger glaring back.

I trembled. "I'm sorry."

One hand lifted, rested on the side of my face. His thumb swept over my lips, making them tingle. "And just what are ya sorry for, mm? For completing me? For giving my bleak existence meaning?" When I could only stare in stunned silence, he smiled gently. "No, luv. You've got nothing to be sorry for."

I blinked out of my speechlessness. "That isn't normal you know."

He drew back. "What's that?"

"What you're talking about." I moistened my lips. "We met once for like an hour. I shouldn't feel so lost without you. I'm not one of those girls who fall..." I trailed off, realizing where that was heading.

"Maybe that's because you hadn't met the right man."

"And you're the right man?"

There was no smile. No twinkle in his eyes, just a hot inferno that left no room for doubt. "Yes!"

For a moment, my lungs forgot how to inhale and I choked on my gasp. My heart tripped.

He closed the precious distance between us. My head fell back as he loomed over me, tall, dark and powerful. My senses spiked, blazed hot. He drowned me in his eyes, distracting me from noticing until his fingers grazed the length of my arm that he'd raised a hand. Every inch of skin from shoulder to wrist blistered. My hand was swallowed in his, raised and cherished beneath his lips. I inhaled sharply. My body swayed towards his. With deliberate pecks, he slipped his lips over my knuckles.

"What—what are you doing?" I honestly didn't mean for it to come out weak and breathy and full of begging, but he was nipping on each cap with his teeth, sending slivers of fire up my arm.

Never breaking stride, he turned my hand over, trailing his lips from my palm to the pulse inside my wrist. His gaze lifted, pinned my face. Then, carefully, but with a firmness that shot heat to my curling toes, his free hand slipped beneath the weight of my hair, cupped the back of my skull and dragged my body forward to fuse into his.

My heart tripped. "Keane..."

His eyes darkened. "I'll show you just how much I mean it."

Then he kissed me.

The world dissolved in a beautiful hue of shimmering gold. His lips, his arms were the only things keeping me in this world when my very soul threatened to be swept away. An excruciating burst of heat swelled up through me, a river of molten lava replacing my blood. When I gasped and broke the lock of his lips from mine, I half expected to be up in flames.

"Not yet." He bared his teeth. "I'm not finished!"

I had barely gulped three greedy breaths when his mouth claimed mine with the hunger of a condemned man given his last meal. His kiss was harder, possessive, like an animal devouring its prey. He gave me no chance to breathe, to think, to even find a footing as he tore the very ground out from under me.

When my knees buckled, his arms were there, bands of steel crushing me to his rigid frame. His fingers curled in my hair and my face was dragged back from his. He was breathing as hard as I was and he looked fierce, untameable... dangerous.

"Tell me now you don't want this." He nipped sharply on my bottom lip. "That you don't want me, and I'll walk away. It'll kill me, no doubt, but I'll do it for you."

It was the walking away that cracked my heart into my ribs. It wasn't passion or excitement this time. It was cold, crippling terror. The image of him, his back, taking steps away from me...

"I don't want you." I grabbed handfuls of his shirt when his body went rigid against mine and his jaw tensed. "Not only," I dampened my lips, dared myself to keep his gaze, "I need you, Keane. I know it's insane and it makes no sense, but—"

His mouth was two pieces of red hot coals burning into mine, eating my words, my soul. I was mindless with him, lost in him and just when I was trickling into a hot, gooey puddle, he tore away.

"I need ya, too."

****

I held her, bathing in her scent of lilacs and promised myself that I would tell her. Not today, but soon. I would ease her into the new future waiting for both of us. I would care for her, love her, be with her. She will never want for anything, because she was mine now and I wasn't going to let anything change that.

Learn more about Airicka Phoenix and The Touch Series at <http://airickaphoenix.com/Author/>

The Touch Series is available now

# Shadow Slayer  
The Lost Excerpt  
By Laura A. H. Elliott

The Seven Cities of Gold

I am the Shadow Slayer. I will live five hundred years. Five hundred years ago Columbus was about to discover the New World and ice cream hadn't been invented yet. Five hundred years from now humans will most likely populate space and have cures for the incurable. Maybe by then, a five hundred year life won't seem so epic.

I stare deeply into my boyfriend's gorgeous golden eyes. When I'm granted my reward, my Last Life, Drew will be long since dead and we will have lived one thousand years between us. Drew's five hundred years only reveal themselves in his kiss. He kisses like a man who's lived countless lifetimes and discovered the only thing that matters. Nothing about Drew says he's just begun his Last Life.

He's someone girls notice under the Friday night lights––especially the way he pulls off the winning play week after week. And, if you're like most girls you'd die to just talk to him and even concoct ways to make that happen, including circling back in line again when he and his friends walk up to the snack shack, or walk an extra loop around the parking lot in search of a ride, hoping to run into him.

Tomorrow's game is against LT. We hate LT. I don't know why, it's just the way it is. Freshmen sort of have to accept things like arch rivals. Before I found out what I am, before I met Drew, I felt like freshman was tattooed on my forehead. It's kind of cool how everyone at school, make that everyone in town, wants to beat LT.

Drew and I snuck onto the football field ten minutes ago. It's pretty epic scaling the stadium gates. I'm afraid of heights, but Drew and I climbed the chain link side by side. I feel like I can do anything when he's with me. He's the kind of guy a girl would break into school with and not care about what punishment might come down after. I love lying here in the empty stadium with Drew, like this. Like everything's normal. Like we're normal.

"It's easy, Roxie," Drew says, lying beside me, inches away.

"What is?" I shift a little in the grass and turn to face him.

"Killing the moon." It's the night before the big game against LT, but Drew's a million miles away.

"If you say so." I shiver and stare at the huge goal post above us, ghostly against the night sky. He knows how badly I've wanted to kill the moon. How important it is. I've been hounding him non-stop about it since homecoming––the night my life changed––when he spoke of it at the bonfire.

We are said to kill the moon because its phases are meaningless to us. Time doesn't matter to us.

I'm not sure I'm ready. I mean, not now. Not this second. Not on a Thursday night. Such a normal night. I like normal. Moon killing seems more of a Saturday night thing, I guess. Saturday nights are meant for the extraordinary. I stroke my arm and feel the rough edges of my massive scar. There's not enough Mederma in the world to completely heal my first battle wound.

"Come on!" Drew says, standing over me in just the right spot so that the goal posts stick out of his head like huge horns. I laugh. But he gets all jumpy, searching the bleachers as if he expects to be surrounded. Just like he did at homecoming before he took me to the enchanted labyrinth. When he told me what I was. I love the way he's looking at me now––desperate and dire.

Drew holds out his hand and I grab a hold of it. He reaches down and grabs my other hand, tugging on my arms. I lift off the grass, out of the end zone and into his arms. He pulls me in close like his shadow had when we danced.

Shadows want to be human more than anything.

I hug Drew, exploring his perfect body. I never want us to be separated again. But we will. I'll see all I love die.

"Shadows are at play," Drew says, staring at the moon.

"Even more important for me to know how to kill the moon then, right?"

He gives my hand a History Channel kiss.

"Tell me about The Seven Cities of Gold," I say.

He holds my hand in his and we walk off the field and onto the track.

"First, you need to know...the truth."

"About what?"

"About me." Drew glances at the moon again. "Stand here." He wraps his arms around my waist and gently walks me over by the bleachers. We stop only a few feet away from them. He lets go of me and stands a few feet away, staring at the all-weather track. "Ready?"

I swallow hard. "Sure."

He smiles and takes guarded steps, one and then another, inching his way toward me and never taking his eyes off the track. I watch our shadows blend into one. When I feel his hand on my lower back a flash of silver light surrounds us. I jump into his arms, trembling, and search his golden eyes, more gorgeous than ever. He holds tight to me, and whispers, "Close your eyes."

So I do. His voice is different, deeper, with an accent I can't place. A chill ripples from my head to my feet.

"Now...open them again."

I open my eyes to the gentle crash of waves on an enormous beach. The warm evening air heavy on my skin.

"You only know me as Drew, the boy I've had to become. But I want you to know the real me. My name is Andrés Carrera De Portolo."

"Andrés?" I whisper, liking the way his real name leaves my lips––mysterious, foreign and dangerous. Even though Drew doesn't sound like the Drew I know, his accent makes him hotter than ever. I bend down and run my fingers over the sand, letting it sift through my fingers. This is real.

"It was here that the last Slayer came for me. It was here I gave him his Last Life."

"Tell me about the Slayer before you."

Drew takes a full breath and looks up the slight rise of the beach to a field of palm trees. He sets his gaze back on me as if he's measuring his words. Considering.

"The world knew the last Slayer as Francisco Vazquez de Coronado."

"Coronado. The explorer?"

Drew nods. "The same. He was tormented in his Last Life by the pursuit of the gold he would never find. But, he was also tortured by something more."

I swallow hard. "The Seven Cities?"

Drew casts a long eye on the silver ocean, sparkling at the horizon. "Do you know what it is to live in a world where men kill women for sport? Where simple gossip can kill a woman?"

I'm breathless and can't focus. Yet the look in Drew's eyes comfort me in spite of all that he says. In spite of the lives he lived before I was born. His golden eyes seem to glow, even in the dead of night.

"No," I say. "I don't know anything about killing women for sport. But I do know how gossip can kill, or might as well. The way some girls at school can spread a rumor, it's like they might as well have the power of life and death."

"Clearly. But, you must be ready for something more. Something deadly. Especially if you are to kill the moon. There are places where women could not go. Would not go. Dared not go. This is one of them." Drew uses his whole arm to sweep the expanse of ocean in front of us. "I had not seen a woman in ten years, not until I saw the picture of...you."

"How could..."

"Your likeness was inlaid in gold, burnished in a charm as was the tradition. The necklace, a gift given to sailors on long journeys, was ceremoniously kissed by their girlfriends in hopes the kiss and the gold would offer protection enough to reunite the lovers. Yours was lost at sea. It washed up on shore..." he says taking a few short steps, sort of pacing. He stops, kneels low to the ground and runs his hand over the wet grains of sand in the spot of surf where the island meets the sea. "Here."

"It wasn't me," I say with a laugh.

Drew reaches around his neck and lifts a golden chain with a simple charm over his head and hands the necklace to me, charm first.

I cradle the charm, licking my lips, straining to see the worn inscription.

"That's a sailor's moon," Drew says, staring at the heavens, at the beautiful silver circle in the sky. "Step out of the light and let the moon show you what you long to see."

I hold the charm in the silver light. Familiar waves of hair burnished into the gold, and a slight smile come into view. I gasp at the sight. "She's...me."

"The Seven Cities were legend, its quest the greatest of its time. Its mystery, one of the greatest of ours. The Seven Cities was an ancient quest that ended in murder, deceit and worst of all––utter and total failure."

I shake my head. "This can't be me." I've wanted to hear about The Seven Cities of Gold ever since I claimed my sword. I've longed to know its story, to hear about my sword's origins. I've longed to know how the sword came to be. But now, my stomach churns and I want to freeze time. I want to go back to the football field and lie in the grass. I'm afraid of who I am, now more than ever.

"But, The Seven Cities of Gold were discovered. By some. They weren't just a crazy man's dream, although they certainly turned into his nightmare. All who had lusted for them had been blinded by desire and riches beyond the young world's imaginings. But these are the things that bewitch young men. Adventure. Honor. A great quest. What young man upon hearing of their treasure would not want to ravage them? Would not want to stake his claim?"

My mind is dizzy with everything Drew and I have been through. Dizzy with the idea of five hundred more years of this. Drew's no boy. And as he talks, it seems like he's turning into another man. One I'm not sure I'll ever really know.

"How did you know? How did you know I was the next Slayer? How did you figure out it was me?"

"I saw it in your shadow."

I gaze deeply into his ancient eyes, questioning.

"The Slayer's shadow glistens. The sheen only seen by Slayers alone."

The full moon is so bright it casts my shadow as dark as the noonday sun. Down in the darkness of my sandy, full moon shadow a golden light sparkles from the outside edge into the center and back out again.

"We'd met in darkness. It was only when I saw you in the light that I knew. Only when I saw you in the cafeteria that I knew you were the Slayer."

"But that couldn't have been the only way. You would have had to comb the Earth in search of a single shadow. It would have taken forever to find me out of all of the people on Earth. There had to be something more to it." I say so fast I can't keep up with my own words. I literally choke on my own curiosity.

Drew raises his eyebrows. "I've loved you for centuries."

"Centuries?"

His face softens as if he's let something go, a secret he's been trusted to keep and is now finally free of.

"You did?" I barely get the words out because he slays me with his stare. "But...I wasn't born, yet. How could you? You couldn't have known me."

"I thought you a sprite. A dream. A ghost, at first."

He reaches into his pocket. "I've been waiting for the right time to give you this small token." He pulls out a string of shells. One after the other they spill out of his pocket. White and beautiful. As if they'd just been plucked from the sand. One tied to the other with knots that seem to hug each shell. I lean in closer to Drew and he lifts the shells over my head. They settle on my chest, over my Oakdale Red Devil football jersey. Drew's football jersey.

"I made this for you," he says staring at me from under his blond bangs. "The promise of this moment is the only thing that kept me alive."

Learn more about Laura A.H. Elliott and the Shadow Slayer Series at: www.Laurasmagicday.wordpress.com

Shadow Slayer (Shadow Series #2) is available now

# Tunnel of  
Love (or Heartbreak)  
By Amy Maurer Jones

Liv's backyard  
June 2015

"Jedd, Shy is dangerous! He killed two of our classmates and kidnapped a little girl! Why are you being so stubborn about this?" I demanded an explanation for his pigheadedness. He was being impossible.

"Don't you think you're being a little overly dramatic, Liv? I just want to help." He rolled his eyes at me.

He's always so passive when it comes to his own safety.

"Getting yourself killed isn't going to help anyone!" I think I'm about to have an aneurism.

"There you go again..." More eye rolling, a flip of his hand, dismiss, dismiss, dismiss...

"You think this is so simple..." I can't believe his attitude. "OK Mr. 'I know it all,' please enlighten me! Please explain to me exactly how I am overreacting to your desire to hunt down a soul sucking Daeva?" I was fuming now. This better be good.

He shrugged first to enunciate his point. What a jerk! "I am more of an asset to you than I am a liability." I was about to say, 'so what stupid' but he held up the palm of his hand in objection. I hate how he can read me so well. "You said you were going to be traveling underground with the Gnomes." He just stared at me. "...right?" he prompted me further. I nodded in agreement. "OK, so what is the big deal? I'll be under the ground. The mother Earth suffocates and kills Daevas. Do you think Shy is going to come looking for me under the ground?" He had a superior look on his face that I was tempted to smack off, but he did have a point. As much as a hated to admit it... I gestured for him to continue. His Cheshire Cat grin widened. "If my life or my soul is ever in danger, I'll just burrow down into the bunny hole. See? It's no big deal. Meanwhile, you'll have an extra Spiriter on duty. I can see masks and feel allures just as well as you and your Gnomes can." He was positively proud of himself... and so darn cute! Gaaah! Life is so unfair.

"Fine..." I caved. I'm such a sucker for his steely blues and gleaming grin. "Meet me in Gaea's meadow tomorrow at six o'clock sharp."

"Six o'clock in the morning?" he uttered in disbelief.

"Do you want to go or not?" I challenged.

He straightened his posture abruptly and nodded a salute. It took everything in me not to roll my eyes this time.

"See you in the morning." He smiled, warming my heart again. He could be every bit as sweet as he could be infuriating.

"Six o'clock," I reemphasized.

This was not the time to go weak in the knees over a boy. There is a Daeva on the loose for crying out loud. He didn't cooperate with my efforts. His eyes remained playful and his smile endearing.

"... on the dot." He chuckled and with a quick wink he turned and headed for home.

The next morning...

"Six o'clock on the dot, just as promised." Jedd beamed as he stepped through the misty trees that outlined Gaea's meadow.

Gaea is the Oracle of Life. She's an Elder Guardian Spirit that chose the form of a grand old Oak tree after her human charge passed on to the Spirit World. Her son, Beau is my mentor, my Guardian Spirit. Jedd and Beau don't like each other very much.

"He's pretty cute. I can see why my Beau is so jealous," Gaea whispered to me as Jedd approached.

I shushed her and her branches wriggled in laughter. Everyone is a comedian...

"You really don't have to do this Jedd."

He can't say I didn't offer him a way out when the Gnome's tunnels leave him feeling filthy and claustrophobic.

"No way, Liv, I'm not going to bail. Forget it!"

He was being thoroughly pigheaded again, even at this early hour. He wasn't going to change his mind so I suppose I should just accept it. I sighed...

"Fine, this way..."

I moaned and groaned under my breath as we silently trudged off toward the forest line. He kept looking at me out of the corner of his eye but he didn't speak. He was probably worried I would change my mind about allowing him to join me on the quest. After several minutes of stepping over tree knots and ducking under leafy green limbs we came to a ledge in the forest floor. It wasn't a significant drop but would still require a careful decent. At the bottom of the decline rushed a stream of crystal clear water.

"We're meeting Gert and the others on the opposite side of the stream," I informed Jedd.

"Gert? What kind of a name is Gert?" he asked incredulously.

I pretended not to hear him. If he thinks Gert's name is odd just wait until he sees his caution sign orange glowing hair. Jedd followed me down the embankment. As it turns out I was more in need of assistance than he was. I slipped on three different occasions and he caught my fall each time. Each steadying hand was accompanied by a gloating superior smile.

"Oh fine, so you can walk more stealthily through the woods than I can, big deal!" I complained.

He laughed at me, but his smile transformed from cocky to adoring. After we crossed the stream I tried to feel for the Gnome's allures. Jedd picked up on what I was doing and joined in my search. After a few minutes we caught their signal.

"This way..." Jedd nodded beyond a large boulder in the brush.

He scaled the humongous chunk of rock in about the same time it took me to walk around it.

"You can quit showing off," I teased.

"You know you like it," he flirted back, wagging his eyebrows at me.

Ugh! He's just too cute. OK, time to snap out of it. It's show time. I began stomping on the ground to let the Gnomes know our exact location. Jedd watched me skeptically.

"What?"

What was his problem now?

"You're like this demi – God, super ninja Spirit girl and the best you can do to summon your Gnomes is stomp on the ground?"

He was making fun of me... and I loved it. To Jedd, I would always be his best friend Liv. No more, no less. I gave in and shared a laugh with him. It felt nice to be plain old Liv and Jedd for a brief moment. He accompanied me in my Gnome stomping dance and it felt like we were back in the third grade again trying to pack the dirt down where we had buried our most recent treasure. Unfortunately, the trip down memory lane was short lived. Before I knew it, chunks of dirt came flying up into the air followed by a clan of Gnomes with Crayola coded hair coloring. Jedd stared at their tiny, stodgy looking, little figures in amazement.

"Ha! They look just like those little naked troll dolls you can fasten on your key chain or insert on the top of your pencil... except they're wearing clothes..." he babbled.

He continued to chuckle in amusement. I could tell his fascination with them was innocent but I wasn't sure the Gnomes would appreciate his behavior so I elbowed him in the ribs. The Gnomes merely looked momentarily confused before returning their expectant gaze to me.

"Jedd, this is Gert, Nort, Runt, Mo and Snert." I pointed to each Gnome as I spoke his name. Jedd nodded to each of them and they grunted their return. "Gert, what news do you have for me? Were you able to make contact with any of the Gnome clans in the south or out west?" I asked Gert because he is the Master of the eastern clan.

"Grrnt, yes, there have been sightings of your Daeva in both areas. Grrnt, here is a list of the most likely cities to find him." Gert handed me a piece of paper.

The hand written list read:

Memphis

Tulsa

Pittsburgh

Las Vegas

Cincinnati

Nashville

Albuquerque

"OK, so what's next?" Jedd wondered.

"We'll need to plot out a course of destination. You know, map out a travel route," I answered and Jedd pulled a map of the United States out of his back pack. I shook my head. "We'll require a different type of map, a map of the Gnome's underground tunnels."

Just as I finished my sentence, Nort fished just such a map out of his pocket. He unfolded it and spread it out on an adjacent smaller rock next to the boulder Jedd climbed over minutes before. This time Jedd pulled a red Sharpe pen out of his bag and handed it to Gert. Good job, Jedd. He's such a quick learner. Appreciative of Jedd's gesture, Gert took the pen immediately and circled the listed cities on the tunnel map. Then he began to number them in order of priority for the journey; Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, Nashville, Memphis, Tulsa, Albuquerque, and finally Las Vegas. The order may have varied slightly had we been preparing to travel above ground but tunnel travel was different. There were short cuts and a general lack of obstacles. We wouldn't have to climb mountains or cross rivers. It would be a straight shot from one city to the next which would seriously decrease the distance.

"Whoa, you mean we can travel on foot to Pittsburgh, Cincinnati and Nashville in just two days? That's crazy awesome!" Jedd breathed in honest appreciation.

The Gnomes were delighted by Jedd's enthusiasm and fascination with their tunnels. Jedd asked them all kinds of questions.

"How did you create the tunnels and how long have they been here?" Jedd bantered excitedly.

"Grrnt, we dug them many, many years ago," Nort answered as he dug his fingers into his scalp of red fuzzy hair to scratch his head. "Grrnt, it is hard to say how long they have been here... many millennia no doubt."

Jedd's eyes widened.

"Well, how can you tell where it would be safe to dig or not to dig?" Jedd persisted.

This time Mo, the purple headed Gnome, answered. "Grrnt, we use our nature charms to sense water, lava or anything that may endanger us."

"Wow, but how do you navigate? A compass won't work under the ground." Jedd was unstoppable but the Gnomes seemed to enjoy his curiosity.

"Grrnt, you could say we possess our own version of charmed GPS." Gert laughed and the rest of the Gnomes and Jedd joined in.

Male bonding? Go figure...

The journey...

The first stop on our journey was Pittsburgh, PA. This bustling city would be the perfect place for a Daeva to hide. Home to the Steelers, Pirates and Penguins, this historically known, industrial driven, steel and glass town is a sports fan's dream spot. People come from all over to cheer on their favorite team. They could easily be lost or misplaced in the festivities and conveniently tossed into the Allegheny River after their souls have been consumed. Jedd and I planted ourselves on a riverside park bench and scoured the newspapers for traces of Shy. There were literally dozens of papers to choose from; Arts and Entertainment, Sports, Business, African American, and half a dozen university press pages. We decided to sift through the more traditional newspapers dedicated predominantly to the local, regional and national news. Jedd was flipping through the Pittsburgh Post – Gazette and the Pittsburgh Tribune – Review while I paged through the Pittsburgh City Paper and The South Pittsburgh Reporter.

"We've got a Jane Doe listed in the local section of the Pittsburgh Tribune - Review. It says they pulled the body from the Allegheny last Wednesday." Jedd raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Yeah, that certainly sounds like Shy's signature work. Where is the body now?"

I had to ask. We were going to have to investigate the remains.

"It's at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center."

Jedd looked doubtful about our ability to successfully break into a university hospital morgue. I sympathized.

"Look at this." Something caught my attention as I flipped the page. "Alley Cat Killings Taper Off." I read the name of the article aloud.

"Vagrants..." Jedd peered over my shoulder to get a better look at the article. "It would seem the Alley Cat Killer was on a murderous spree for a few days and then suddenly quit." Jedd's suspicious eyebrow returned. "The killings stopped just about the same time the Allegheny began surfacing corpses."

Jedd was echoing my exact thoughts.

"This was no Alley Cat Killer... this was a Daeva." I looked at Jedd and the concern in his steely blues showed me he'd come to the same conclusion. "Let's make a visit to the morgue," I added reluctantly.

Jedd nodded his dread.

The University of Pittsburgh Medical Center...

"This place is huge!" Jedd repeated my thoughts as we stepped inside of the large hospital.

"Well, lucky for us, hospital morgues are always in the basement. Let's find an elevator," I said and we trudged off into the nooks and crannies of the medical center.

After a few short minutes we spotted an orderly pushing an empty cart intended for soiled laundry. It was just rounding the corner.

"...that way," Jedd insisted. "The cart had clean sheets and supplies on it. They keep all of that kind of stuff in the basement."

We whisked ourselves around the corner and at the end of the hallway an elevator awaited us. Before I knew it we were on the elevator pressing the button that would take us to the basement.

"That was easy enough." Jedd grinned with pride.

Then the elevator beeped and dictated a digital message requesting a clearance code.

"You were saying..." I laughed. Jedd's shoulders slumped forward. "OK, plan B. All multiple level buildings have stairways to satisfy fire code mandates. What do you say we take the elevator down as far as we can, get off and try to find the stairwell?" I suggested.

"It's something...why not."

Jedd pressed the button to the first floor, the elevator doors closed and we began our descent.

"The stairwell has got to be somewhere close by," Jedd said as the elevator doors slid open and we made our way out into the abandoned lobby. "Here... but the door requires a code. Damn!"

Just as Jedd spotted the stairwell I spied a supply closet which was momentarily void of orderlies.

"I've got an idea."

I grabbed Jedd by the elbow and pulled him into the supply closet and shut the door behind us.

"Liv, do you really think this is the time for a make-out session?" Jedd teased.

"Keep dreaming..." I pretended to be annoyed by the thought of a make-out session with Jedd but I know my cheeks were flushed scarlet. Jedd's rush of muffled giggles clarified my fears. I pulled a set of scrubs off the shelf and handed them to him. "Put these on. We are now officially hospital orderlies on laundry duty to the morgue."

After I put on my scrubs I grabbed a large stack of crisp, white linens and shoved them into Jedd's arms. Next, I grabbed a pile for myself and toted Jedd out of the supply closet before temptation overwhelmed me. This was no time to be over powered by my own hormones.

"Now what... the door is still locked," Jedd complained in frustration.

"Have a little faith. I bet we won't wait five minutes before someone comes out of that door. Hospitals are crazy busy..."

The door to the stairwell flew open as I was in mid-sentence. I winked at Jedd and this time he blushed. Huh, how about that?

"...you two! Are you taking those sheets down to the morgue?" shouted a pair of tired and frustrated, assuming eyes.

Jedd's eyes looked as if they would pop out of his eye sockets as the forty-something female orderly looked us over.

"He's new..." I explained and elbowed Jedd in the ribs.

"Oh... uh... uhm, yes, ma'am..." Jedd staggered over his words.

I'm sure the orderly thought he was an idiot.

"Well, hurry along! They need more sheets!" she chided us as she held the stairwell door open for us to enter.

Without another word we darted down the stairwell.

"How lucky was that?" Jedd breathed.

"Ye have little faith." I smiled.

Jedd rolled his eyes.

The relaxed and triumphant moment was over when I came to a door labeled with a silver plate inscribed with the word, morgue.

"Here goes nothing," Jedd barely whispered as we entered the expansively cold and sterile room.

Silver metal tables scattered the floor and white ceramic counter tops and wooden cabinets lined three of the four walls. The fourth wall was floor to ceiling, sparkling steel. What looked like over sized file cabinet drawers dotted the surface. I looked to Jedd and gestured toward the temporary caskets.

"Start feeling for dark allures... Spiriter," I instructed Jedd dryly.

"Shell... far left corner... third drawer from the bottom," Jedd spoke solemnly.

"You can sense their energy from all the way over here?"

We hadn't even begun to cross the room yet. He is really gifted. I stared at him for a long moment. Eventually, he just shrugged. He didn't like this part of his gift any more than I did. We made our way to the body in question, opened the drawer and pulled back the sheet. Sure enough, we were looking at a naked pair of female feet with a tag tied around one big toe. It read, Jane Doe in careful cursive script. We were about to replace the sheet and close the drawer when a strange squeaking sound startled us.

"Grrnt, sorry to alarm you two..." It was Gert's voice echoing from below.

I looked down and spied a glowing drain grate. The grate magically lifted away from the floor and lowered itself to the side of the opening. In a flash Gert, Nort, Runt, Mo and Snert popped into view.

"Grrnt, your Daeva's been here, alright. Grrnt, he's left shells scattered up and down the water's edge of the Allegheny. Grrnt, it's only a matter of time before they surface on the embankment," Gert explained.

"One already has," I said and Jedd gestured toward poor Jane Doe.

Gert and his brothers bowed their heads in a moment of silence before Gert continued his report.

"Grrnt, the Gnomes in the Allegheny area do not believe the Daeva is still here. Grrnt, they believe he is gone."

"Why? I mean, what makes them suspect he is gone?" Jedd questioned.

He didn't believe Shy was still here, nor did I. The newspaper story about the Alley Cat Killer flashed into memory.

"Grrnt, the dark allures are weakened and the physical bodies of the shells are three to four days expired." This time Nort chimed in.

"That's kind of what we were thinking." I nodded feeling defeated.

Jedd pulled the folded newspaper article from his pocket and handed it to Gert. The Gnomes curved their heads around the document for a brief moment before looking at each other and scowling. Gert handed the paper back to Jedd.

"Grrnt, this is your Daeva," Gert reemphasized.

Gert cocked his head to the side oddly and quickly just as we heard voices and laughter in the hallway. Before I could panic, the Gnomes magically vanished down the drain, the grate was replaced, the sheet was spread over the victim and the drawer was securely closed... and Jedd and I were standing at the opposite side of the room in front of an open linen cabinet restocking the clean white folded sheets. In the same instant the orderly woman from the stairwell entered the room.

"Very good! Now, we need towels on the third floor," she barked at us.

Jedd and I closed the cabinet door and sped out of the room. When we finally reemerged in the elevator lobby on the first floor I took a deep breath and relaxed.

"Whoa, that was so cool! Can I take Gert to school with me when I forget to do my home work? I bet I could fit him in my duffel bag," Jedd said half joking, half serious.

We yanked off the scrubs we had layered ourselves with earlier, nearly tripping over them as we darted for the exit. We must have looked like two mental patients fleeing the psyche ward with tear streaked faces accompanied by hysterical bursts of laughter. We hadn't yet decided if we should be relieved or terrified.

The evidence...

The evidence in Cincinnati and Nashville proved to be much the same as Pittsburgh. It had been two days since Jedd and I had any sleep so I decided we should hunker down in the tunnels for some shut eye before moving on to Memphis. The Gnomes adapted their plans as well. They decided they would push forward and scout out as many of the remaining cities as possible. It was decided that if they turned up any significant leads or evidence of Shy's presence in any given city we would return to the place in question together after Jedd and I were fully rested.

"This reminds me of when we used to put up a tent in your backyard and camp out for the night when we were kids."

Jedd smiled at me from the other side of the narrow tunnel. We were nestled in our sleeping bags with only a dim flashlight to illuminate the space between us.

"Sleeping in a dark, musty and dank hole in the ground reminds you of our camping adventures from when we were little?" I asked with chagrin.

Jedd laughed nervously. "Well, sort of...you look a lot different now. You're much... taller."

Taller... he was going to say something else and changed his mind, but what?

"Jedd, why are you here? Why do you want to be a part of this? Don't get me wrong. I think it's a noble gesture, but I don't understand why you want to take responsibility for something that isn't your problem."

I had to be very careful how I worded my questions. Jedd is very sensitive to this topic and I didn't want to have a fight with him. I just wanted to understand his part in this.

"I'm not being noble, that's for sure. I'm being entirely selfish," he whispered so low I could barely hear him. I waited for him to continue, his words confused me. "This is my problem, Liv! Can't you see that?" he pleaded with me to understand. I didn't. "It's you! It's about you..." he exploded in frustration. Then he rolled over and turned his back to me. "I want to help you. I want to know that you're safe. Is that so hard to understand?" His voice was meek and shallow again.

Several moments of silence passed and I didn't know what to say. So, I just whispered, "Thanks Jedd." How lame...

He turned his face toward mine and very wryly smiled, "You're welcome..." and we both laughed and fell into slumber land.

Rise and shine...

It felt like I'd only been sleeping for minutes when I felt Gert's short stubby fingers jostling my shoulder. I forced my eyes open to take a peek at my watch. It was two o' clock in the morning. Jedd and I had been asleep for nearly six hours in the tunnels below Memphis, TN.

"What? What's going on?" I heard Jedd mutter in a sleepy voice.

Nort and Mo were attempting to pull him out of his slumber.

"Grrnt! The Daeva! Grrnt! It's the Daeva!" Gert ranted.

"What about Shy? Where is he Gert?"

My mind was crystal clear and my sleepy demeanor vanished as I pulled myself out of my sleeping bag and pushed myself up off of the dirty ground.

"Grrnt... he's right above us! Your Daeva has made himself a pack of Aengels and they're terrorizing the streets of Memphis right now!" Gert snarled. "Grrnt, we must go and kill the Daeva... now!" he ordered.

With his last commandment we were bound above the ground into the dark wee morning hours of an empty street in sleeping Memphis.

As we rounded the corner of an abandoned warehouse, Shy's most popular choice of location for dining, we heard canons of shrill human screams in the distance. They were feeding and we had no time to waste. Tiny Gert strapped a cumbersome Jedd, the only human in our convoy, onto his miniature shoulders and we flashed across the pavement at lightning speed. I thought for sure this would rattle Jedd, but he wasn't the least bit fazed.

Nort and Snert kicked in the windows, shattering the glass into itty bitty fragments and alerting Shy and his minions of our arrival. Shy's eyes grew wide and then narrowed again in hatred. Shy dropped the human shell whose soul he had just devoured and stepped toward us.

"Would you like to join us for dinner?" Shy smiled directly at me.

What a pompous ass! His body was radiating with the energy from the human he had just sucked the life out of.

"Sorry to crash your party, Shy... but it's time for you to die!" I screamed and plunged toward him with my blaze at the ready.

My rage was all consuming. It is one thing to observe an empty shell, void of a soul, and entirely another to witness a soul being stolen and consumed by a monster. Just that quick, all hell broke loose. The only saving grace, in their distraction, the Aengels managed to allow the remaining humans to escape. Shy and I stood face to face while Jedd, the Gnomes, and the Aengels paired up for battle. Whoa... what? Jedd! Jedd isn't supposed to be part of this equation. In my momentary distraction Shy lunged for me but I quickly dodged his blow. I swung the blade as hard as I could, targeting his heart, but he feinted out of the way at the last second. While Shy recollected himself I scanned the run down space for Jedd and spied him near the corner of the room defending himself against two Aengels.

"Gert!" I screamed bloody murder. "Help Jedd, now!"

Gert opened a fault line in the old concrete floor and the mother Earth sucked the demonic soul into her belly. In a flash, Gert darted to Jedd's side. I had to admit Jedd was defending himself quite well. He had taken the blaze I had given him, intended solely for defensive purposes only, and was skillfully skinning Aengels into dust. Just as Jedd killed one Aengel another would thrust itself toward him. Gert was doing his best to dodge the demons away from Jedd, but as soon as he would take one down another would counter the attack. Geesh, how many were there, nine... ten?

Meanwhile, Shy was back in the game. By this time I was in no mood for fighting fair. I focused all of my strength into my affinity for Earth, I opened up the concrete floor below Shy's feet and watched him... evaporate into a disgusting, black, misty gas and float away? What the hell? In that instant I heard a blood curling scream from a voice I knew all too well. My heart filled with terror as tears welled up in my eyes. I turned to face my best friend paralyzed in fear. Gert speared the last Aengel only a split second before it finished devouring Jedd's soul.

Pesky dreams...

I bolted up straight from my sleeping bag with tears in my eyes and strangled screams emanating from my throat. When I opened my eyes I found five large round pairs of brown eyes and one set of beautiful steely blues staring back at me.

"Are you OK, Liv?" Jedd asked hesitantly.

I slapped him in the face as hard as I could.

"Don't ever do that to me again..."

"What the hell, Liv?" Jedd complained.

The hurt was sincere in his eyes. I stood up and stalked down the narrow crusty tunnel alone into the darkness. I needed to get as far away from Jedd as I could. What just happened? I leaned against the earthen wall and slid myself down to rest on the muddy floor. I knew I was getting filthier by the minute but I didn't care. I took in my surroundings. To my right lay the pathway to a labyrinth of tunnels, to my left was a single tunnel leading God knows where, and in front of me was the pathway I'd taken away from Jedd and the Gnomes. I could hear them whispering in the distance but couldn't quite make out their words. I knew they were talking about me because I heard my name mentioned several times and something about dream traveling... Was I dream traveling? No, I know what dream traveling feels like and that wasn't it. Besides, I dream travel to the past not the future. Was that all it was, a bad dream? No, a really, really bad dream.

Jedd and the Gnomes were still gazing after me with worried expressions. I should go apologize to Jedd and put an ease to their concern of my sudden mental break down. I picked myself up, dusted myself off and retraced my steps back to my sleeping bag. Jedd and the others watched me warily and silently. I suppose it is time to break the ice.

"Hey..." I said in a small voice. I could feel my embarrassment settling in.

"Hey," Jedd whispered back lamely.

So, it was going to be like that...

"I'm sorry I slapped you, Jedd. I don't know what came over me. I was really freaked out and... I'm sorry, it won't happen again." I forced the words out.

"It's OK... what were you so freaked out about anyway?"

I could literally see and feel the tension in Jedd melt away with my apology, which only made me feel guiltier.

"I had a nightmare. I wasn't dream traveling, but the dream was really awful. I don't want to talk about it right now, if that's OK?" I wasn't ready to relive the moment yet. They didn't seem to mind, at least they didn't object. "So, you're back, Gert, what did you find out?"

I turned toward the Gnomes expectantly.

"Grrnt, Memphis, Tulsa and Albuquerque were as uneventful as our previous investigations. Grrnt, your Daeva has been and gone leaving a wake of shells in his departure," Gert explained.

"Before you, uh, woke up... we were discussing our plans for Las Vegas. Gert thinks we should..."

Jedd was gearing up for the final destination in the quest.

"No!" I blurted before I'd realized it. Six confused faces whipped in my direction.

"What's the matter, Liv?" Jedd worried.

"You're not coming along this time Jedd. I can't let you go," I said firmly.

My nightmare would not become reality, not in Memphis, Las Vegas or any other city. Jedd was going home.

"What are you talking about, Liv? We only have one more stop. We can't quit now," Jedd argued.

"I say we can!" I fired back.

"Grrnt, Liv it is really important to finish the quest. We could take the boy home and return, but doing so could set us back. Grrnt, we're so close to the Daeva. Grrnt, I can feel it," Gert insisted.

"You see Liv? We've got to go. Look, I don't know what you saw in your dream..." Jedd pushed the wrong button, I snapped.

"I saw you dead, really dead, as in no after life! I watched an Aengel devour your soul, Jedd! Do you fully understand what that means?"

Jedd's face blanched and Gert and his brothers ducked their heads in shame. Good, now I've got their attention.

Silence...

"So, if you just die, your soul passes on to the next life in the Spirit World?" Jedd finally found the courage to speak. I only nodded. "Well, what happens to your soul when a Daeva or an Aengel consumes it?"

Well, he asked... "A soul consumed by a Daeva or Aengel will know what hell feels like for all eternity. For as long as the Daeva, or soon to be Daeva exists, the human soul remains trapped inside, completely powerless to escape. The Daeva feeds off the human soul again and again, raping it of its strength and warmth. I would suspect being confined within the body of something so demonic would be pure torture. A torture to endure seeing, hearing, feeling and watching the sadistic inner workings of a monster day in and day out, forever."

This time Jedd stood up and strode away from me into the darkness of the tunnels.

"Grrnt, how about this Liv, we continue to Las Vegas but we leave Mo in the tunnels with Jedd. Grrnt, he will remain safe and we can finish the quest." Gert suggested an easy enough compromise to the dilemma, but would Jedd be agreeable?

"Hell no!" We heard Jedd's voice booming deep inside of the tunnel. Of course, he would have to make this difficult. Oh well, he's already mad at me.

"That's the deal, Jedd, or I am taking you straight home. Do you want to help or hinder this quest?" I was unfairly testing his loyalty.

Jedd's entire face was chagrined as he stepped in front of me. I would have felt badly if it weren't for the fact that I was desperate to keep him safe. As reality set in Jedd's disbelief transformed into anger.

Boys...

The trip to Las Vegas proved to be as valuable as the rest. Had Shy been there? Yes. Was he still hanging around? No such luck. Between the seven cities we'd counted over eighty shells. I'm sure there are more which will surface later, and we will have to send the Nature Spirits to tend to their burial when they do. Making matters even worse, Jedd is angry with me and refused to speak to me for the rest of the journey. When we left the Gnomes in Gaea's meadow he bid them farewell and good luck, then trudged off without as much as a glance in my direction.

He's continued to ignore and avoid me since we returned to Queens. Today is our last day of exams, the last day of school before the summer vacation. How long will he continue to shut me out?

Needless to say I was very surprised when I finished my last exam and found Jedd waiting for me outside the class room door.

"Hi," I said warily.

"Hey, I'm sorry I've been a jerk for so long. Can you forgive me?" He half smiled, half pouted his apology, which was pretty lame.

"Maybe..." I contemplated.

I know this is my chance to forgive and forget, right? Well, that is easier said than done. He's going to have to try harder than that.

"I'm still mad at you, you know?" he complained.

"Well, now I'm mad at you too," I snapped in annoyance.

"What do you have to be mad about?" he challenged.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you haven't spoken to me for an entire week without any explanation," I sneered sarcastically.

"What explanation do you need? You black balled me from the quest and you know it!" he accused.

"If you are referring to the way I saved your ungrateful ass from your own delusional death wish, then I suppose you are correct!" I fired back.

"Fine, you know what? Why do I even bother?" He glared at me.

I saw a flash of something more than disappointment in Jedd's eyes. I was frozen in shock. Jedd had gone too far this time. His words were hurtful and cruel, he was being so unfair. I could feel the tears welling up behind my eyes and I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had made me cry. When he turned his back to me, I took the opportunity and I bolted to the parking lot and further beyond. I just kept running. I ran to get as far away from Jedd as I could. I only paused to glance back once. I spied the remorseful slump of Jedd's frame in the distance, but this time something inside of me shielded my heart, forcing me to pick up speed once again and carry on. I was gone...

Learn more about Amy M. Jones at: http://amyjonesyaff.blogspot.com

Learn more about the Soul Quest Trilogy at: http://www.soulquesttrilogy.com

The Soul Quest Trilogy is available now

# Dance by Moonlight  
By Kelly D. Cooper

Homestead, South Carolina – Midsummer's Eve – 1912

She winced as her hands were tied behind her back, her accusations caught in her throat, choking her in fear. Casting her gaze to the circle of people – friends and neighbors – people she had always trusted staring back at her with hungry eyes. . . glowing eyes.

The hooded figure turned, lengths of robe swirling around a thin form, the face, proud and poised turned toward her, and she gasped. "Margaret?!"

Suddenly the poised face morphed to that of a monster and the last thing she knew was the hiss of the crowd and piercing pain of fangs sinking into her jugular.

-oOo-

Homestead, South Carolina - 2012

Spanish moss dripped like dirty lace from the trees surrounding the old homestead. They drove to the back, dust billowing up in their wake and parked. Caroline felt her chest grow heavy and her stomach clench as she looked at her mother, taking note of the dark circles beneath her eyes and the strain around her mouth.

"I could help you, Mom," said Caroline, tone pleading.

"I know, darling. I know you could but-" her mother paused briefly, "your Aunt Carol and Uncle Wyatt would be so disappointed if you didn't spend some time with them this summer."

"They'll get over it," she insisted. "C'mon."

Her mother stopped gathering her purse and turned to her, her face a tapestry of pain and weary acceptance.

"Caro," her mother said, "I can't be a good parent to you this summer. We've discussed this and I thought we were in agreement. Tell me you understand."

Sighing, Caroline turned her head to the passenger side window. "Yes, I understand." She wrenched open the door, letting the oppressive southern heat into the car. Grabbing her purse she stood to watch as her Aunt Carol came bustling toward them.

"You made it!" she exclaimed, smiling, her arms opening to hug Caroline close. Pressing her face into her aunt's soft neck, Caroline breathed deeply the scent of home as her aunt pulled back and held her by the shoulders. "Just look at you, darlin'" she said. "So grown up."

Caroline's mother came around the back of the car, carrying her suitcases. Uncle Wyatt threw his arms around her, dragging her into a tight embrace.

"How you doin', Sis?" he asked. When her mother pulled back from him, Caroline could see the emotion in her mother's eyes, reminding her that the divorce was tearing her mother apart.

"Oh, I'll be fine," she insisted.

Aunt Carol wrapped her arms around Caroline's mother and steered her toward the house. Caroline watched them walk before turning to lift one of her suitcases.

Uncle Wyatt took the case from her, shaking his head. "I have this, little bit, you just go on in and visit with your mama a bit before she has to leave. Your Aunt Carol has prepared a feast for you since she figures you haven't eaten anything good in a long time, what with living up north and all."

"Ha- ha," snorted Caroline.

-oOo-

Caroline stood next to her aunt, trying not fidget.

"Caroline is going to be staying with us for most of the summer," said her aunt. Several of the ladies who had gathered around them nodded, offering her polite smiles. Caroline just looked down at the clear plastic bowl of melting ice cream.

"It is nice to meet you, my dear," said Margery. "You look like a deer in headlights. I bet you'd like to meet some young people. My Sheridan is over on the other side of the picnic shelter with some of her friends. You should meet her, Caroline. I am sure you girls would have so much in common." The lady threaded her arm through Caroline's and tugged her across the lawn.

A tall girl rose gracefully off the hood of a car to meet them. "Mother," her eyes trained on Caroline, "what are you doing?"

"I wanted to introduce Carol and Wyatt's niece to you and your friends, Sher. She is here for the summer," she said.

The dark haired girl smiled and held out her hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you . . . um--" she faltered.

"Caroline," supplied Caroline, wiping her moist palms on her dress before accepting the hand.

"Would you care to join us?" Sheridan gestured to her friends. At seeing the unsure look on Caroline's face, she laughed a bit. "I promise we don't bite, not even if you want us to."

Caroline chuckled at her own wariness and stepped forward. She stopped and turned to thank Sheridan's mother but . . . no one was there.

"Wow," she muttered, "your mother is fast."

Sheridan tugged Caroline towards the group. "My mother is an organizer. Once she had you filed in the right place, she was ready to rejoin the rest of the adults."

Caroline just stood there facing the small group of teens, some of them studying her in return. Sheridan turned to the little group. "Hey everyone, look," she stated, "fresh meat!"

The bunch laughed at a joke that Caroline didn't get but their combined laughter and the heat had her laughing along with them.

-oOo-

As the twilight wore on into early evening, people began to disperse and Caroline found that she was sad to see the event end. The kids that she'd met were very nice and accepting of a new girl. It had been easy to make friends – almost too easy.

Everyone was making plans to relocate to a different place when Sheridan turned to Caroline. "So, you want to go?"

"Go where?" asked Caroline.

"The drive-in," said Sheridan. "There's a double feature. I think most everyone is going," she continued. "You need to check with your aunt?"

"I guess I'd better," said Caroline. "I've never been to a drive-in movie."

"You'll love it. We'd better hurry though because it is getting dark and all the good spots will be taken."

The girls rushed through the crowds and found Uncle Wyatt folding up tables.

"Uncle Wyatt," gasped Caroline, "would it be okay if I go with Sheridan and some of the others to the drive-in?" Seeing his shocked look, she was instantly serious. "I don't have to go, but. . . ." she shrugged. "I have never been to a drive-in before."

Uncle Wyatt's face split in an amused grin. "Well, far be it for me to stop you from your first drive-in." He turned to Sheridan. "Will you bring Caroline home afterwards, Miss Sheridan?"

"Of course I will. Thanks, sir."

-oOo-

When they arrived at the drive-in, Caroline was surprised to see that there was more going on than just people getting ready to watch a movie. There were people throwing balls and kids waiting their turn to jump rope.

"Oh, there is Robby...and Monica," said Sheridan, watching as a car came slowly toward them and parked neatly next to theirs. Several kids climbed out.

"Guess who's in town, Sher," said Monica. "Cam," she said when Sheridan said nothing.

"So?" Sheridan said, trying to appear nonchalant.

Caro watched the body language curiously. Sensing her curiosity, Sheridan turned to face Caroline, saying, "Cam is just this guy who spends his summers here with his grandparents."

"Oh," said Caroline.

"I need some nachos or something," stated Sheridan. "Come with me to concessions." Without waiting for an answer she just dragged Caroline away. "Monica is such a bitch to bring up Cam," spat Sheridan, her voice low and shaking. "She is the reason he wasn't in touch with me."

"What happened?" asked Caroline.

"Last summer Cam came down from Charleston. We sort of hit it off and became really close but Monica was jealous because she thought he would go for her. It wasn't my fault he didn't like her, but she was pissed off about it." She smiled and then looked away. "Well, he was supposed to meet me for the Midsummer's Eve Bonfire but he never showed. Funny thing is, neither did Monica. I went to find him, to see if he was okay." She dared a peek at Caroline. "I mean, wouldn't you?"

"Sure, I would do the same. I'm sure of it," returned Caroline soothingly.

"Well, I found him - I found them both. They were in his grandparent's pool house – together, if you know what I mean." She looked away but not before Caroline spotted the sheen of tears in her eyes.

Caroline placed her hand on the other girl's arm, and said, "That's just awful, Sher. No one deserves that."

"Now the bastard's back in town for the summer," she said heatedly. "I really don't want to see him – ever again."

"If he comes around we can just avoid him," suggested Caroline, staunchly. "We can avoid Monica, too."

She turned her face toward Caroline again. "Thank you for listening. Even though we have just met, I can tell we're going to be the best of friends." Sheridan squeezed Caroline's hand and smiled sweetly.

Caroline grinned back at her, and said, "Absolutely."

-oOo-

The zombies in the movie burst through the wall, and Caroline screamed, not from the gore but from the hand that landed on her shoulder. Twisting around in her seat, she was surprised to see Sheridan behind her.

"Are you okay, Caro?"

"Sure. I'm fine, just a little jumpy from the movie," she said.

"Everyone is talking about leaving. This is the dumbest movie ever," she said rolling her eyes. "Sonny's parents have a cabin on the river and we could go over there for a while. I mean, your Aunt Carol already knows you're out with us, I don't think she would care."

Caroline peeked around Sheridan to see the others starting to crawl back into trucks and cars.

"Well, I guess that would be okay," she answered, not wanting her new friend to think she was lame but wary about not telling her aunt where she would be. "Maybe I could just call her. I'm sure she would be fine with it but I hate not letting her know."

Sheridan chuckled. "If you call your aunt, then we all have to tell our parents and then it will be too late. I mean, it's not even ten minutes away from here." The screams of the beleaguered victim in the movie cut the silence, as if playing out the frustration of the other girl.

Caroline laughed. "Alright, let's go."

Caroline turned and walked directly into a rather tall guy.

"Sorry – I didn't see you there," she said in apology, looking up into the darkest pair of eyes she had ever seen.

"My apologies," said the gorgeous stranger slowly. "Are you okay?"

Caroline could feel a blush start its humiliating rise from her neck to her face and she took a breath to speak.

"She's fine," spat Sheridan coldly, appearing at Caroline's elbow. "What do you want, Cam?"

Caroline jerked her face to her new friend and then back to the bastard.

"Cam?" she asked faintly.

The tall man trained his eyes back on her. "And you are?"

"She's not any of your business, Camden Miller. We're leaving. C'mon, Caro."

Caroline stared out the window as they drove past. Cam held her gaze until they were out of sight.

-oOo-

The next morning dawned early for Caroline. She sat straight up in bed, clutching the covers to her chest. There was something about last night she should remember but it was gone. There had been a movie, a new friend, a gorgeous guy and a line of tiki torches leading to some rocks that looked out over the river.

There had been glowing eyes surrounding her, the hiss of hunger creating a stillness that was unnatural, a warning, a threat . . . a promise.

She shook the chill away, silently promising never to see another zombie movie again. The smell of bacon and coffee came wafting up the stairs. Caroline breathed deeply and dashed to the shower. Under the warm spray, she noticed all the little aches and pains, and odd stings that seemed to be all over her body. She ran her hand down her side and could feel the funny little raised welts that were in a cluster just beside her breasts. There were also some on the backs of her knees and along her neck. She cursed the mosquitos and made a mental note to grab bug spray.

"Who is this fresh faced little gal?" teased Uncle Wyatt.

"Good morning, Caro," said her aunt. "Did you have a nice time last night? I am sorry I was asleep when you came in."

Caroline poured a glass of orange juice before turning back to her aunt and uncle. "You don't have to wait up on me, Aunt Carol."

"I was reading the journals of Rosemary Wallace Stinton, so I was really engrossed and not," she said, "waiting up on you exactly."

"Rosemary Wallace Stinton?" repeated Caroline. "Why does that name seem familiar to me?"

"You have probably heard your mother mention that name. It is a local legend, the story of the missing kids from all those years ago."

"Maybe so."

Uncle Wyatt winked before going to refill his coffee. "So what are your plans for the day, Miss Caroline?"

"Sheridan asked if I could do something tonight but nothing today."

"I am so glad you hit it off with Sheridan. I must say, I'm surprised but I may have misjudged that little lady," said Uncle Wyatt.

"I thought I might go to the drugstore and the library. Would that be alright?"

"You can come with me into town. I have some errands to run and can just drop you off," her aunt suggested.

-oOo-

For such a small town, the library was quite comprehensive. Now, with her books safely stashed in her backpack, she slung it on her shoulder and turned to the exit. Without looking up, she passed a guy who stopped to watch her leave.

Changing his path, he trotted to the double doors and held them open for her. Surprised, she looked up.

"You!"

"Me," he replied, lifting one eyebrow.

Caroline just stood there, but then said, "Thank you."

She walked right by him without another glance. She had agreed to meet Aunt Carol on a bench outside the library when she was finished. Setting her backpack down, she unzipped the side pouch and pulled out her newly purchased bug spray. She shook the can and sprayed her arms. Twisting to see the back of her legs, she attempted to aim the can toward her calves and ankles in the back.

"I realize that you consider me the devil or something," said Cam, descending the library steps to join her, "but – here, allow me." She turned reluctantly and passed him the can. She winced as the cool spray coated her legs.

"There," he said.

"Thank you," she muttered, trying to reach for the can of bug spray.

He held the can up over his head.

"Did I do something to you that I don't remember?" he asked jokingly. When she remained quiet, the look of amusement changed, replaced by a wary frown. He handed her the bug spray, and studied her eyes.

"Do you need a lift somewhere?" he asked.

"My aunt is coming to get me," she said, hoping he would go away.

He ducked his head and ran his hand through his hair, allowing it to fall back over his forehead before shooting her another brief glance. "Well, see you around."

She watched as he walked away. He seemed so normal and nice. Still, Sheridan had told her what happened last summer. Treating anyone the way he had treated Sheridan was not the act of a good person.

She sat, pulled out one of her books from her backpack never realizing that the very person that she was thinking about was watching her, confusion mingled with intrigue clouding his eyes.

-oOo-

One rainy afternoon found Caroline in the guestroom, surrounded by a carpet of old pictures, the ribbon tied journals of Rosemary Wallace Stinson, steamer ship tickets and old dolls that spilled out of the cedar chest. Caroline sat, so lost in the treasures that she didn't hear the footsteps.

"Caroline?" Carol poked her head around the corner to smile at her. "You have company."

Standing in the doorway was Sheridan, hair pulled up in a loose bun with tiny bits framing her face. All of a sudden her friend seemed as though she was from a different era. Caroline mentally chastised herself for her flights of fancy.

"Sheridan, you should see some of these things. They're so cool," Caro said.

Sheridan stepped closer. She picked up one of the handkerchiefs and lifted it to her nose, closing her eyes as she inhaled the scent. "How old is all this?"

Caroline shrugged. "At least a hundred years old."

"This is really cool," remarked Sheridan, glancing at the things scattered on the floor. She bent down and lifted up a tiny bisque doll. "Oh wow!" she said, awed.

"These were some dollhouse dolls my Great-Great-Grandmother had when she was little. I saw the dollhouse in the attic."

Taking up a doll herself, Caroline folded her legs Indian-style. So entranced were they with the little dolls and their things that both girls jumped when Uncle Wyatt stepped into the room.

"You two have been quiet for so long, Carol and I were starting to wonder if you'd taken a nap," he said.

Both girls laughed. Caroline stood. "Let's go downstairs and get some tea. You want to?"

"Sure," said Sheridan, giving the doll one last wistful glance before placing it back in the box.

-oOo-

"It's the Midsummer's Eve Bonfire and everyone will be there," said Sheridan.

"I have never been to something like that," said Caroline. "What do I wear?"

"Well, it is nicer than an actual bonfire really." Sheridan continued enthusiastically, "I'm going to shop for a new dress I think."

"I wonder if anything I have will work," said Caroline. "I may have to go shopping too."

"Let's go this afternoon," suggested Sheridan. "It's going to rain, so that is about the best thing we can do."

"That sounds great!" Caroline jumped up.

-oOo-

Caroline walked into Landsdon's Shoes. She had seen a pretty pair of sandals that would be perfect with her new dress. She only wished Sheridan had been able to come with her. Poor thing had come down with something unexpectedly, leaving Caroline to shop alone.

"May I help you?"

Spinning to face the owner of the voice, Caroline gasped, her hand flying to her chest. Cam stood there smiling down at her.

"You! You work here?"

He grinned. "I do."

Caroline looked down at the bag in her hands, knowing that Sheridan would be upset that she was talking to Cam, but she needed shoes.

"Hey," he said, attempting to catch her eye. "I know that you're uncomfortable around me. I'm not sure why, but I would like to clear up whatever it is."

"It's Sheridan," said Caroline, jerking her face up to his. "It's upsetting to her that you are here again this summer, what with all the stuff that happened —" Her voice trailed off when she saw the confusion on his face.

"What does Sheridan say happened?"

"Why don't you tell me," Caroline said sarcastically.

"Humor me, Caroline," he said.

"She said that you two were friends and that you blew her off at the Midsummer's Eve Bonfire to be with Monica."

Her explanation was greeted with silence and Caroline looked up to see Cam staring at her. "That explains a lot."

"Does it?" Caroline asked.

"There are some things about last summer that remained confusing to me but. . ." he paused, "this point is clear. Sheridan and I never dated. I had been interested in Monica but she was dating Tanner. I never touched Monica."

Caroline just stared up into his face for a minute and then she turned away.

"You don't believe me?" he queried incredulously. He spun her around to face him again. "Sheridan lied to you, Caro."

Caroline could see the earnestness in his eyes and oddly believed him. Why had Sheridan made up such a lie? She made a mental note to find out the next time she saw her friend.

-oOo-

"What the hell are you doing here, Sheridan?" questioned Margery as she clenched her teeth around the tiny straight pins.

"I thought you said it was safe to be out this afternoon," Sheridan said accusingly. "I thought you said it was going to rain all afternoon. I almost fried out there, you bitch."

Her mother rounded on her. "You have one job. Just one thing you have to do, be her friend and prepare her for the bonfire." The older woman reached out to rip the bag from Sheridan's hands. "Been spending my money again, Sher?"

"You said I should, Margery. You said to take her shopping for a dress, so I did. I couldn't very well take her shopping without shopping for myself," she said. "I'm supposed to be a teenager."

"Did she find a dress?"

Sheridan took back her bag, "Yes, it's white. Mine's red."

"You've always had a delightful sense of humor, my dear. Red is so appropriate," Margery stated, smiling serenely.

-oOo-

The day of the bonfire, in the soft morning glow, Caroline crept silently through the house, careful not to alert her aunt and uncle. She was still disturbed by the idea that Sheridan had lied to her about Cam but she hadn't had the opportunity to talk with her about it. There were also the wispy bits of a dream that clung to her curls, compelling her to try again to pry open the black velvet jewelry box and discover its treasures.

Pushing open the door to the spare room, Caroline walked quickly to the trunk, lifted the lid and peered inside. There were the boxes of pictures and the little bisque dolls with yellowed postcards and letters tied up with ribbon and the faded black velvet box that seemed to be stuck closed. Caroline lifted the pretty box from the trunk. Then, as if guided by another hand, Caroline flipped the box over, and ran her fingers across the bottom. At the edge of an indentation, she pressed and the top sprung away from the box.

There were delicate filigree and pearl earrings and a small stack of photos. In the first of the pictures there sat a stern faced man with dark hair and piercing black eyes. The next picture was a little boy wearing a sailor suit. The last picture was a matron with her hair pinned up on her head, wearing a high collared dress. Next to her sat a young woman, not much older than Caroline. The girl had startling eyes, dark and fringed with dark lashes. The amazing thing was that the girl from all those years ago bore an uncanny resemblance to Sheridan. If Caroline hadn't known that it was impossible, she would have said it actually was Sheridan.

Standing abruptly, several pictures falling from her lap to the floor, Caroline tried to shake the feeling that there was something horribly wrong but she couldn't fathom what it could be. Gooseflesh rose on her arms and she turned on a gasp to see Uncle Wyatt standing in the doorway.

"I- I. . . I didn't mean . . ." she said, her voice tremulous, "what are you doing here?"

"I live here, little one," he said, his voice gruff from sleep. "Normally I am the only one awake this early. Couldn't you sleep?"

"Well," she said, clasping her hands tightly together, "I just woke up. I don't know why."

Uncle Wyatt looked around. Caroline picked up every photograph and stacked them before she saw the slippered feet of her uncle enter her line of vision. She looked up and he smiled down at her, holding out his hand. She took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

"Look all you want, darlin'. I am going to start the coffee for your aunt. It's the smell that wakes her up each morning or so she says."

Caroline watched him walk away and she instantly began to put things to right in the room, arranging things just exactly except that in the right hand pocket of her housecoat there rested a picture of a girl who was the spitting image of Sheridan.

-oOo-

As Uncle Wyatt pulled up to the entry of the old wooded lot, Caroline could see that this was no ordinary bonfire. Caroline looked down at her white dress and sandals, pleased that she had taken pains to look nice.

"Have a nice time, darlin'," said Uncle Wyatt softly. "If you decide you want to come home before Sheridan is ready to leave, just call me."

Leaning over to kiss his cheek, she said softly, "I will." Opening the truck door, she turned back and smiled at him, excitement shining in her eyes, "Love you."

"I love you, too," said her uncle.

-oOo-

Sheridan was nowhere to be seen, Caroline realized as she joined handful of her friends nearby. Overhead, the sky was a lustrous black that reminded her of the jewelry box with its hidden treasures. The glow from the tiki torches lit their way as they walked around a bend. She was wondering again where Sheridan could be when she was suddenly aware of a presence just at her right side.

"I've been looking for you everywhere, Caro," said Sheridan. "Where have you been?"

Turning, she took in her friend whose red dress glowed with a richness that seemed like liquid shadows.

"I've been looking for you," she returned, smiling. "Your dress is gorgeous, Sher. It looks better in the dark than it did in the light."

Sheridan laughed, threading her arm through Caroline's and steering her back to the bar area. "Didn't you know?" she teased. "Everything looks better in the dark. I like your dress too. You seem so pristine in white."

Caroline laughed. "Didn't you know? Everyone looks pristine in white."

"No, they don't," came a voice from just behind her.

"Cam," she said, wondering how this would go with Sheridan there. She had not confronted Sheridan yet and didn't want to do it now. Cam smiled down into her eyes, and then he turned decidedly cooler eyes to greet Sheridan.

"Ladies," he said.

"Come on, Caro," said Sheridan. "I'm thirsty."

Sheridan looked up at Cam's face and he lifted his eyebrows before saying, "I'm thirsty, too. Shall we, ladies?"

-oOo-

Caroline could not remember when the evening became blurry but she just couldn't seem to focus. Somewhere in the crowd of people, she had lost track of Cam, but Sheridan was still standing beside her and they were standing in a larger circle of people with whom she had met that summer. With everyone talking and the fuzzy feeling around her head, Caro was wondering if she should call Uncle Wyatt to come pick her up.

Sheridan's mother stepped out from the trees dressed in a red lined black robe. Several kids laughed and some started to whisper. There was a trancelike look on several faces of the people standing there and Caroline began to wonder if anyone else had noticed. When she turned her head quickly to see what Sheridan thought, she could feel her equilibrium tilt a bit. Suddenly there were hands there to hold her upright, a voice in her ear, "I've got you, Caroline."

Then the woman in the robes, Sheridan's mother, came to stand before her.

"Is this the sacrifice?" Her voice seemed to come from far away and Caroline couldn't shake the feeling that this was wrong, very wrong.

Suddenly, the faces of those who had become friends during the summer seemed strange, harsh, the shadows creating hooked noses and cruel, hungry eyes.

"I have prepared her for you, Mistress." Caroline turned her head slowly to see Sheridan's face. She seemed to be in a trance as well and her fingers were gripping her arms tightly.

The feeling of two fingers caressing her neck, stroking the fluttering pulse had her looking back into the eyes of a monster. Sheridan's mother looked just the same but the gleam of something evil seemed to seep into her sluggish mind. Someone was screaming in her mind, screaming for her to run. The woman whose cold fingers pressed against her pulse smiled and revealed her elongated fangs.

This had to be a dream. Vampires weren't real.

Sheridan lifted Caroline's hand, sniffing delicately at her wrist, a humming sound coming from her throat. "So sweet is the blood of virgins."

A hiss rose up from the gathered crowd and from where she stood; their eyes were glowing in the darkness. Hungry eyes.

Suddenly the crowd parted and several pairs of eyes watched as two men stepped into the circle. Caroline tried to focus on the men but was sure she was seeing things because she thought one of them was Uncle Wyatt.

"Caroline? I thought you might want to be coming home now, darlin'."

It was Uncle Wyatt and Caroline started to feel less strange, and pulled away from the tight grip on her arm. She seemed to be able to see more clearly. The man beside Uncle Wyatt moved then, walking toward her and she could see that it was Cam. He came to stand just beside Margery. Without looking at the woman to his right, he extended his hand toward her and said, "Shall we?"

Caroline placed her hand in his. "Yes."

"You could stay with us. The party is still going on," said Sheridan. "I would bring you home when it is over."

"You lied to me, Sheridan," she said. "Why?"

Sheridan looked down, muttering something beneath her breath. When she lifted her eyes, there was something dreamy in hers. She started talking in a sing song voice, her appearance slowly changing as she spoke.

"I loved my little bisque doll. Mama was so sick. She wouldn't stop coughing," she let her voice drop to a whisper. "Margaret said she could make Mama get better and then she would live forever."

A trickle of blood spilled from her eye, falling down her cheek.

"Hush up, Sheridan," hissed Margery.

Caroline felt more coherent by the moment, the effects of the trance or poison wearing off. She could see that Sheridan seemed to have some lines around her eyes now but her manner seemed to grow younger.

"Mama's blood was everywhere. She tried to run and Margery had to bite her to make her stay. Make her stay, make her stay . . . she bit her to make her stay."

Caroline shivered and stepped toward Cam. He pulled her to him and pushed her behind him.

"Margery could bite you and make you stay." The suggestion came from the voice of a child, the voice of a child who should have been dead long ago. The silence of the gathered people was heightened by the rush of the wind that came slicing through the trees.

"Biting will not make them stay, will it?" said Cam quietly, almost ominously.

Caroline could not see his face but when Cam spoke both Margery and Sheridan seemed to back off. Caroline glanced around at the others who were gathered, suddenly aware that she had been in a significant amount of danger. She became aware of the presence of her Uncle Wyatt.

"Time to go. Aunt Carol will be wondering where we are," said Uncle Wyatt. For the first time Caroline noticed the leather belt that Uncle Wyatt wore low on his hips. In it, there were several wooden stakes and a pouch with a flap. Her eyes met his and he jerked his head, indicating that she should walk in front of him. As she stepped around Uncle Wyatt and stood in the flickering shadows cast by a low burning tiki torch, he said, "Walk Caroline to the truck, Camden. I'll be right there."

"But sir..." Cam started forward and Caroline saw that he had a banner of sorts slung over his shoulder and crossing his torso that had several wooden stakes and pouches.

"We're staying, Uncle Wyatt," Caroline interrupted. The eerie glow of the eyes of the surrounding people, seemed closer all of a sudden.

"Caroline," said Uncle Wyatt, "it is you they are after. Start walking toward the truck in front of Camden, little one. Just walk."

Understanding the reason he was asking her to go, Caroline turned and began walking down the path. Cam walked just behind her, his footsteps overshadowed by the sound of other footsteps, many footsteps. Evidently Uncle Wyatt had some experience with this sort of thing and Caroline wondered if she was going to wake up from this very strange dream soon.

"Wyatt!" The scream had all three of them turning back around to see that they were being followed by at least seven people.

"Do you really want to take us on?" asked Uncle Wyatt, his voice low, deadly.

Sheridan rushed forward, her hands like claws ready to attack Uncle Wyatt, an unearthly cry heralding her approach. Wyatt moved so quickly that he was a blur and in the next instance had Sheridan by the neck, a stake in his hand as though ready to thrust it into her chest. Margery was there in an instant, her fangs bared as though ready to attack.

"Release her!" she shrieked. "We will keep to the pact if you do not harm Sheridan."

Uncle Wyatt seemed to come to his senses and spoke through clenched teeth.

"I will honor the pact if you will, Margaret. Keep your little blood bitch away from my family."

Margery stepped forward and took Sheridan from him, the teenager hissing and twisting in the hands of her maker.

Caroline stood between Uncle Wyatt and Cam, watching the coven of vampires walk away, eventually fading into the shadows once more.

-oOo-

As they walked down the now deserted path that led to the truck, Cam reached down and took Caroline's hand. Uncle Wyatt took them both back to the farm and asked if they would like to sit and watch the storm roll in. Cam sat next to Caroline on the porch swing, resting his arm along the back of the swing. When she smiled up at him, he leaned down to kiss her.

"What was that all about back there?" asked Caroline, when he pulled back from her.

"You just disappeared with Sheridan. When I looked for you, there were several people telling that you had left, so I went over to your Uncle Wyatt's house." He brushed her hair back from her face, eyes serious as he spoke. "I had no desire to be at the bonfire unless you were there. You were the only reason I went at all." He leaned in to kiss her again, his tongue skimming the line of her lips. "Not only had your uncle not come back to get you but he seemed really worried that I couldn't find you. Then he just said something about needing an apprentice and grabbed my arm to drag me with him into that shed out behind the barn. Talk about amazing, that room is filled with some pretty weird stuff but I didn't get a chance to look too hard because he was moving around gathering things and shoving them into that leather holder." Her eyes followed the movement of Cam's head as he nodded in the direction of the things he had removed. "I had always heard the rumors about vampires and protectors but like most of the people around here, I was pretty skeptical. He explained all this stuff very briefly on the way back to the bonfire. I could see that he was afraid for you and I started to feel frantic too."

"That all seems like something out of a crazy nightmare, doesn't it?" she said. "Do you think I was a target all summer, from the start?"

"I don't know about that. I do know I could go on kissing you forever," he said as he ghosted his lips over hers. "You are so delicious. My addiction," he said, his lips touching hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck to bring her body flush with his and he groaned, turning his head to take the kiss deeper. When he pulled back, his eyes darted up to the doorway.

At that moment, her aunt and uncle entered the screen porch carrying trays of snacks and drinks. Aunt Carol dismissed the way Cam's eyes seemed to glow for a moment.

-oOo-

Standing in the drive next to her mother's car, Caroline looked into Cam's eyes. She felt a piercing sense of loneliness at the thought of leaving him. A buzzing sound filled her ear followed by the sting of a mosquito on her neck. Caroline could feel a trickle of blood down her skin and pulled a tissue from her bag but Cam stopped her.

"No, baby," he said. "Allow me."

He pressed his lips to her neck, and his tongue lapped at her blood.

"You must have sweet blood, Caroline," said Aunt Carol. "Mosquitos and teenaged boys can't get enough."

"I've been told it is an addiction," said Caroline with a smile.

Kelly D. Cooper is the mother of two little southern beauties. She lives with her family in South Carolina where she spends her time weaving tales of romance, suspense and mystery. "Dance by Moonlight" is her first story, but she hopes to put more out soon.

Learn more about Kelly at: kellydcooper.wordpress.com

Visit her on Facebook at: www.facebook.com/southerneccentrickellydcooper

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