Paranormal

“She seems to have activated on her own.” Rolland smiled at the cavorting creature ahead of him.

The voice from the other end of the com seemed eager, “Is she well?”

“She’s flying. It looks like she has picked up her birthright. You may be able to visit sooner than you thought, Olaris.”

“You don’t know how much this means to me, Sovereign.”

“Yes, I do. Your loss was one that most would not have been able to bear, but she is alive, alert and rippling with power. Despite the physician’s assessments, she has both of your characteristics.”

“Balen will be pleased. He has been alone for so long.”

“The same amount of time as you since the day your wife passed into the next world.”

“We knew it would happen. She was at the end of her duty as avatar for Balen and could not withstand the rigors of the pregnancy.”

“Enough. You can explain this all to your daughter as soon as I catch her.”

While they had been talking, Sovereign had been following his soon-to-be partner through the skies. Eventually, she noted his attention and slowed to let him draw even.

She cuddled up to the side of the shuttle and her deep black eyes bored into his soul as she watched him through the window.

He mouthed two words to her, Sector Guard, and her face immediately brightened. He flicked the controls to open the side door and grinned when she took the hint.

She seemed remarkably cheerful for someone who was radiating enough power to rip him and his shuttle apart.

“Did you say you were with the Sector Guard?” She walked slowly and carefully up to the cockpit and her gaze met his.

He knew what she was looking at. His dark violet skin had given more than one person pause in his lifetime. That, coupled with his white hair and scarlet eyes, made him a striking example of his species.

“I am. I am here to assist in the cessation of operations of the mine. Balen has begun to wake again and as he comes out of mourning, he is rather upset with what the colonists have been doing in his absence.”

“I can imagine it would be rather distressing. I had no idea that Balen was sentient.”

Sovereign took in the view that was available to him. She was wearing a work suit that would be more suited to a miner than someone with her grace and style.

“He is, but he has been mourning his avatar. She died fifty years ago.”

“No offence, but who is flying the shuttle?”

She looked worried. It was rather funny, as she could fly away from any crash. “Autopilot. It is circling back along your route to the mine offices. I intend to shut this down today.”

Taking off her EVA suit was a lot easier than putting it on. Boots first, then helmet and finally, she unsealed the baggy thing. She stumbled free and stretched just as the hatch opened to reveal the occupants of the ship.

"Holy mother of stars," Mala whispered it as quietly as she could, but there was no getting around the fact that the male Selna was one of the most attractive things she had ever seen. She shook her head, of course he was. All Selna put out pheromones causing compatible races to want to mate. Mala's mixed bloodline was no exception.

She stayed out of their way and merely nodded to the pilot as she passed. It was easy to determine that she was the controller for the ship. The ports in her wrists gave it away. The pilot looked with a smile between Mala and Isabi. Apparently, Mala should have been writhing on the floor in front of the Selna. That just wasn't her style.

Her repair crew helped her look busy as the occupants made the long walk to the end of the repair bay and they waited until the Selna and pilot were out the door. The instant that the coast was clear, Mala stripped off her gloves and ran her hands over the hull. The minor and major damage caused by the blasts ceased to exist at her touch, the metal joining, sealing and healing under her fingers.

This was why she made the credits that she did. The money was compensation for the perfect repairs that she was capable of. It was her one skill, this repair talent, her freak factor when it came to blending in with other techs.

She moved slowly along the ship, inch by inch, clearing and eradicating all trace of the battle. Whatever had hurt this beautiful ship had been brutal. The damage had been deliberate and designed to turn the ship into a paralyzed meteor, it had worked. The poor baby.

She was murmuring to the ship when she reached the engine damage. "Gergar, I need some metal here." She stroked the superficial damage on the exterior of the housing and waited for the hand to tap her shoulder. She took the metal sheet blindly and held it in place, feeling it melt into the surface of the ship. She could repair anything as long as she had enough materials to patch up the holes.

"I am going to need three more of those if this engine was any indication." She clambered over the ship, keeping her focus on feeling the entirety of the ship at all times. It took her two more hours, but at last she was finished. Dizzy and terribly pleased with herself, Mala sat heavily next to the ship and turned to face her crew. Dismay filled her.

"You know, if I hadn't seen it for myself, I never would have believed it."

The Selna from the ship leaned on one of the pylons and played with one of the chunks of metal she had been using to reconstitute the engines.

"The report was quite insistent that she was capable of it. I am glad to see that it was not exaggerated." The pilot was smiling.

Whatever race she was from was in Mala's own makeup. She could feel kinship with the strange pale creature with its wide eyes and cheerful grin. Her crew was huddled together near the door, mouths gagged and arms and tail confined. "Let them go and tell me what you want."

The beautiful Selna moved close to her and whispered, "We want you."

If a Dhemon walks into your bar, you know you are in trouble, but when he asks for you by name, it's time to run. Agreha Wyld made her way right past the offending Dhemon. He didn't see her, but that was only because Aggie had put on her makeup.

Shifting her features was painful, but if it was only for a few seconds, she was willing to do it. Outside the bar, she let her face go back to normal and stretched her features to relax them. She was halfway down the block, winding her way through crowds and waving at friends in the market, when she noticed that the Dhemon was exiting the bar. His cloak was too heavy for the warm afternoon sun, but he kept it closed as he turned to follow her.

"Aw hells." There was nothing for it. She shifted her legs into a more efficient running configuration and laid on the speed. Moving with the speed of a four-legged animal, she sprinted for safety. She didn't know what the Dhemon wanted, but with the stringent morals of his species, she was sure that she had offended someone somehow. Avoiding him was the best solution.

She wasn't even breathing heavily when she looked back to see no trace of her pursuer, it made it easier for her to slam into the living brick wall in front of her.

He sighed heavily and crossed his arms over his chest, all patience and hard muscle. "Aggie, what have I told you about running through the market?"

She looked up from her vantage point on the ground. "To not do it? To do it when the market is empty? Sorry, Avatar. I was trying to avoid someone." The Avatar was the personification of the planet Cor. Cor used the body to carry his consciousness around when there were negotiations in the works regarding his planetary resources. The rest of the time, Avatar Lio was free to live a life and even flirt. Now was not one of those times.

It was Cor who spoke. "The Dhemon who was looking for you?"

"How did you know?" She stood up, brushing her skirt off and returning her legs to normal configuration.

"I sent him to you. He has a proposition that I believe will appeal to you."

"Well, I think I lost him so better luck next time." She straightened her halter top and smoothed everything down.

"You didn't lose me. I simply tracked you until you stopped moving."

A pang of sorrow hit Livin. It had been nice to think that she would not be alone as she aged, that there would be a friend nearby. She could see the match as the couple danced, it was obvious that they shared a soul.

She continued in her quiet corner and watched the women circling the newcomer. The sleeper. He was beginning to look frustrated by the attentions and his gaze was darting around until it alighted on her. A slow smile crossed his features and he moved out of the clutch of women to make his way to her.

Councilwoman Ratha intercepted him and he stopped for a moment to speak to her. He jerked his head toward her and when the Councilwoman turned to look, a blush flared over Livin's features. She was not used to being subjected to this kind of scrutiny. Ratha had the nerve to try and hold him back as he continued along his predetermined path. He shook her off and stopped immediately in front of Livin.

He extended his hand for a greeting and she looked at it for a long moment before she took it. "Livin Hael. I…" she was unable to continue as her emergency pager went off. With her right hand engaged, her left fished her pager out of her bodice. The message chilled her. "I am sorry, I have to leave." She tried to free her hand, but he was having none of it.

"You cannot leave, the doors are bolted until midnight. Where do you need to go? I will take you." He flexed his wings and scooped her into his arms without another word. She clutched his neck as he bent his knees and launched skyward from a standing position. Holy hells. She had heard of a standing launch, but most males couldn't manage it. It took tremendous strength.

"I need to get to Cleath forest. There is a wildfire that I need to attend to." She pressed her lips against his ear to speak and closed her eyes at the shudder that went through both of them at the contact.

"We will be there within the hour. Trust me?" His voice was in her ear and she shuddered at the heat that caressed her.

"I don't know you, but I trust you." They were the last words that she spoke in a normal tone as he hurled her upward and let her go.

She was falling, the ground was getting closer and closer and a scream was frozen in her chest. She summoned what air she could to slow her fall, but was terrified that it would not be enough.

I would never let you fall.

She could swear that she heard a voice, but when her body was caught in midair by a taloned fist, she shook with the ramifications. He really was a sleeper. He could shift.

A deep bronze head turned to fix her with one swirling gold eye. I am and I can. I dreamed of you.

She had dreamed of him, too, but thought that it had been residue of her history class. He carefully placed her on his neck and she clutched at him desperately, closing her eyes against the rising wind and hiding herself from the fear that his sentence had engendered in her.

As the doors opened for them, she noted the humanoid standing to one side of the Matriarch's throne. Reva approached and bowed formally. "Matriarch, you sent for me?"

The visitor was an Enjel, his midnight wings flared out behind him, matching the silken hair flowing from his forehead. His eyes were the same bright onyx as the K'ket, but his skin matched hers in chalky appearance.

"Yes, Nanny Reva. This Enjel has come forward to purchase you."

"For what purpose, Matriarch?" The glare she gave the winged man should have given him the hint that she was not up for any fun and games.

"As a breeding partner. He says you have complimentary genetics with his kind and he has been seeking one such as you for some time." The enormous Matriarch clacked her front claws delicately. "I have agreed."

"Pardon, Matriarch?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "I thought I had served the Roci family well?"

"You have, Nanny, but it was a very large amount of money." The oversized insect cackled and her stinger came shooting forward to the spot where the Enjel had been standing.

He wasn't there any longer. He was behind Reva, winding his arms around her waist.

"You have received payment, Matriarch. Attempting to kill me was inhospitable."

"You are correct. I was just trying to see if I could keep both my Nanny and the money. She is quite talented, you know. I am sure you will be happy together." Retracting her tail from the floor, the Matriarch settled back on her hot rock. " Be gone, before I change my mind."

"Farewell, Matriarch. Lovely doing business with you." The Enjel bowed formally and bent his legs.

It took all of Reva's self-control not to scream as he launched them into the air and took them out the window. With her talent for giving orders that had to be followed by all within earshot, she carefully did not follow her instinct to yell let me down. With the height at which they were flying, it would have been fatal.

She kept quiet. The rush of air past her face felt surprisingly soft, and at this height, she could not taste the insects that populated this world. It was refreshing. His wings beat steadily, keeping them aloft and transporting them to the spaceport on the far side of the city. A trip that took hours on foot, was accomplished in fifteen minutes.

When her new owner landed in the open-air spaceport, he placed her gently on her feet and took her hand in his own.

"Come with me, Reva. The faster we get off this planet, the safer you will be."

"What? What do you mean?" She didn't dig in her heels, but she wasn't following him with the enthusiasm he apparently wanted, so he swung her into his arms and carried her into the shuttle.

"Strap in and I will tell you. But I do warn you that your orders won't have quite the effect you anticipate, so I would avoid using them until we are off this world." He dropped her in the co-pilot's seat and took his own seat in the specially made chair. It accommodated his wings nicely, but offered back support.

He ran through pre-flight checks in seconds.

Reva could only sit, bemused. This was not what she had experienced the last three times she had been sold. Those eager hands had caused her no end of stress. Her talent had bloomed by then and had kept her from their advances, but they felt a certain amount of uneasiness around her that had sent her back to the block. "Where are we going?"

He finished the checks, got clearance and lifted off before he answered. "We have been summoned to Sadril. They are evacuating due to a problem with their sun, and as members of the Sector Guard, we are going in to help with the evacuation."

That shocked her. She was the slave of the guard? "Sector Guard? You are a Guard?"

"We both are. The minute you crossed that threshold, Reva the slave ceased to exist. You are now a full citizen of the Alliance with the rights and freedoms included. Of course, if you try your position in the guard out and find it not to your liking, you can find employment elsewhere. We are always looking for support staff on Morganti." Most of his speech was said through clenched teeth as he fought the helm for control.

"Would you like some help with that? I am fully checked out on this style of shuttle." The offer came from the part of her that feared he would shake the ship apart.

"If you can help with the attitude, I would be most grateful." His teeth were still tight. He flipped a toggle to activate the co-pilot's controls.

Reva leaned forward to grip the controls as he relaxed. She smoothed their ascent and gently guided them out of the atmosphere. She brought them up and headed them to the slingshot point off the nearest moon, then turned to look at him.

His black eyes sparkled in the starlight. "That was well done, but I knew it would be."

She snorted in disbelief. "How could you have known I could fly?"

"Well, you can tell I can fly just by looking at me." He smiled at her surprised laughter. "Let me set the coordinates for our mission and then we can have some lunch and discuss how we came to be in this shuttle together." He competently entered their destination and set the computer for maximum speed. "Okay. That's taken care of that. Let's have a little talk now."

"What was that? What happened? What did you do?" The normally taciturn Movik was frantic. When the sphere uncoupled itself, he had started to wring his hands and when it shattered into blazing particles that they could see from their vantage point above the breaking asteroid, he freaked.

"I did nothing. Whatever or whoever was inside that sphere is now out in the cold blackness of space."

"What do you mean who? What do you know?"

"The planet consciousness inside me felt the proximity of a star. That star is now humming happily as the creature from the sphere tears apart those rocks." It was hard to see, but here and there a form appeared, shattered a rock between its hands and then dodged away to strike another one. At the rate it was going, the great asteroid would be head-sized balls when it struck Morganti's atmosphere, easily destroyed by entry.

"An Avatar? Oh, nononononono." He was clutching at his head now, rocking back and forth, moaning as he watched the fragments of the sphere come apart wherever they touched the debris. "Where did the asteroid come from?"

Kale had to ask the base for that question. "This is Kale-Gant to Sector Guard Base Morganti."

Mala's tired tone came through the communications unit. "Go ahead, Avatar."

"Has an origin for the rock been determined?"

There was silence for a few moments while she brought up the information. "It has been travelling for just over four hundred years. Remnant of the Emhara system. Their white dwarf went black, the nearest planet to the star exploded, but everyone was evacuated. Is everything okay?"

"Yes. The bulk of the asteroid has been destroyed. Did you get the shield up and running?"

"Only just. When you get back, you are going to have to work on increasing food yields. I am afraid I had to replace quite a bit of energy and the commissary is pissed."

"Whatever you need, Fixer. Make me a list."

"Will do. See you when you get home. Sector Base Morganti, out."

Kale turned to Movik. "Whoever made the shell, made it from the same alloy that the occupant is so cheerfully tearing apart. The Emhara system ring a bell?"

If it was possible for Movik to turn any greener, he would have. As it was, he sat on the floor, rocking himself into a pattern saying, "Nonononononononono," as a constant chant.

With the momentum of the oncoming disaster modified by the lack of forward movement, Kale guided the shuttle closer. He wanted a closer look at the occupant. When she came out, he focussed the scans on her and took in the pale skin, midnight hair and humanoid body. It wasn't until she turned to wave at the camera that he saw the appalling truth.

Effin Nywyn looked up as the sonic boom shook the air. He had been hoping for a quiet time on the planetoid for hunting and meditation. It was just his luck to have company.

He looked up to see the ship wobble badly and head deep into the forest. "Hells."

His oath as a physician kicked in and he hopped on his short-range skimmer. The smoke cloud was mercifully short, meaning that either the ship was out of fuel to burn or it had immolated anyone onboard. Either way, his work would be short. The speed of the crash was bound to have killed the inhabitant, but he had to satisfy his own urge to make sure there were no survivors.

The heavy warmth of the forest engulfed him as he followed the trail of the beacon in the ship. That it was working was good if the odds were twisted and there was indeed a survivor. Someone else would come to claim the body. He needn't worry about burial.

The column of metal had shredded on contact with the ground, peeling open like ripe fruit. He landed his skimmer outside of the debris zone and walked in.

He could feel something in the wreckage, something alive. Sighing, he opened his mind and connected to the living being with a jump of surprise. She was alive and whole, but trapped in some way.

Moving faster than he ever had in his life, Effin crossed through the debris and entered the shadowed expanse of the interior. The flare of a bright mind called to him from a dark corner. When he saw why she was trapped, he laughed in relief. "A gel bed. Just wait, lady. I will have you out of there in a few moments."

She didn't respond, but dark blue eyes stared out of a face framed by rich brown hair. The breathing mask on her face framed full lips and a tilted little nose. She was cute and he recognized her species.

It would have been hard not to recognize a Terran when he saw one. His cousin, Altius, had married one a few years earlier and Thea was a lovely addition to the family.

Her eyes seemed a little dazed, but with the shock of the crash, he would be surprised if she had survived unscathed.

His fingers moved over the switches and toggles, rerouting and overriding the commands until the gel dissolved and its contents were free if moving somewhat sluggishly.

"Come on, Beauty. Time to get away from the wreckage." Lifting her was easy. Her body indicated she would be quite tall, but there was nothing to her. No real muscle mass and barely any curves.

* * * *

A touch on her mind stiffened her spine until she saw the owner of the thoughts that she linked to. A Wyoran. No wonder her mind attached to his so easily. His was trained for this type of thing.

He was dressed like a wild man--leather leggings, black boots, no shirt to cover his auburn skin and his red-black hair fell heavily to his waist in a silky cloud. His eyes were dark amber, slitted and smiling into the tube where she lay. His mouth wide with a grin and his nose flat and vaguely feline with a jaw that made her want to stroke it.

That one instinct froze her in her tracks. She was on an assignment to a new world, not flying around to get her rocks off.

He seemed to know his way around a gel bed though and soon had the goo dissolving back to whence it came. He lifted her in arms that supported her easily and carried her out of the wreck. One thing stuck in her mind as he murmured to her in the skimmer as he piloted them away from the crash. He called her Beauty.

Vran watched the various emotions flicker over Mona's face. He was sure she had no idea how much her expression gave her away. Most people didn't. Took a lot of practice to hide how one felt.

Something small and dark swooped past her and she flinched. Nala rose and gazed with interest into the darkness.

"You'll never catch a bat," Mona chided. "Not with their radar. Besides, what would you do with one if you did catch it?"

Nala slanted her the scornful glance of the born hunter.

"The thrill for all predators is in the pursuit and catch," Vran commented. "Ask any human--we're all predators."

"Men more than women," Mona said.

"Genes. Hunters and gatherers. Genes go way back. To the time of dragons."

"You mean you think that somehow our ancestors inherited a genetic memory of dinosaurs, so invented the dragon to account for it?"

"Not at all. Dragons aren't mythic dinosaurs. Nor modified ones either." He deftly inserted a charcoal-crisp hot dog into a bun. "Care for the results of today's hunt?"

Between bites, she asked, "Why do we keep talking about dragons?"

"Why are your cousins coming?"

She slanted him an impatient look. "She invited them. I'm hoping one of them can solve my great-aunt's secret. I have no idea what the solution is."

"Dragon heart is dragon stone," he said.

She stared at him. "That's the first line of the secret verse. Did Great-aunt Enid teach it to you, too?"

"You asked why we kept circling back to dragons--that's why."

"Do you mean you learned the verse from Enid? You talk around questions rather than answering them."

"I came here to protect you," he added. "If you don't like the word protection, think of me as an observer who's on your side." He slipped a roasted hot dog into a bun for himself and gestured toward an ice chest of soft drinks. "Help yourself."

Mona opened a can of orange and sat on Nala's log.

"The flicker of the flames turns you into a mystery woman," he murmured. "Your eyes hold secrets no man can fathom."

"I doubt mystery women ask for seconds on hot dogs."

He was reaching to hand her one when Nala dived into her lap, huddling against her as a soft whoosh of wings came from overhead.

"That was no bat," Mona exclaimed.

"Owl," Vran said. "A big one by the looks of him." He handed her the hot dog, scooped Nala from her lap and loped toward the cottage with the cat.

He returned without Nala, saying, "I won't let her out after dark again. Of all people, I should have remembered the night predators."

When they'd eaten all the marshmallows either could handle, he sat next to Mona on the log and asked her to sing Puff, The Magic Dragon with him.

He watched as Mona stared into the fire as they sang, seemingly half-transported into that magic kingdom by the sea. They fell silent for a time, and he found the swish of the waves on the sand lulling his apprehension.

 "Mudway-aushka," she said softly. "The Chippewa word for the sound the waves make. Do you know Longfellow's poem about the shining big sea water?'"

"As a boy I was brought up on Welsh poetry such as Peacock's." He threw his head back and intoned:

"The mountain sheep are sweeter,

But the valley sheep are fatter;

We therefore deemed it meeter

To carry off the latter."

"Obviously a raider's tale."

He didn't deny it. "Welsh tales are full of battles won and battles lost, until the time came when there were no more wins--all were losses--and so we became a reluctant part of Great Britain."

"While we here in the colonies revolted and broke away."

"You had the advantage of distance." He pivoted on the log to look at the dark lake. "And vast spaces. There's still wilderness to be found here. I love America."

Mona turned so that she, too, faced the lake. Far out over the water, a string of lights twinkled.

"A ship passing," he said.

"No, actually it's a boat. Great Lakes tradition has it only boats sail these inland seas. And I was told in town it's rare to see the big boats anymore since the mines all closed."

He glanced at the sky. The rising moon, lopsided, touched the dark water with silver and leached the color from Mona's eyes as he looked at her. "The moon is waning. In ten days we'll have moondark."

She continued to gaze into his eyes. He knew he should glance away. "They say whoever looks into a dragon's eyes becomes his slave," he warned.

"Then I'm lucky you're not a dragon."

"Are you?" He heard his voice change into a croon. Damn, he had to stop this.

He saw her attempt to speak, to look away, saw her fail. Did she want more? He sure as hell did.

Vran couldn't help himself. If only he hadn't sat next to her on this damn log, he could have kept his cool. But this close to her, his head filled with her seductive scent, he was rapidly losing his reason. He felt far more than the simple allure of an attractive woman, this was an all-out sensual raid.

Gema raised her hands and closed her eyes. Littered on the chamber floor were rose petals and dried nightshade. The witch swirled her hands into the air and the clutter at her feet began to swirl. The petals melded with the deadly nightshade and rose upward, gathering about Gema's legs and the hem of her long gown.

The candle in the center of the room flickered, waned, then regained its bright yellow-tipped flame. The rose petals and nightshade rose to swirl around the candle base while Gema chanted her spell and raised her arms. The mixture rose as the flame elongated on the candle. The mix rose upward and circled the flame, then drew the blaze to the tips of the petals. A fragrance of sweet essence fused with the smoke created by the fire. The red petals singed, gave off their aroma, then became engulfed in the blaze.

The deadly nightshade swirled around the room, hovering near the candle, twirling in the acidic smoke of the flame before gathering at the open window and disappearing into the murky darkness. Gema lowered her arms, leaned on the table. The fire went out, throwing the room into total darkness. The witch snapped her fingers and the overhead light illuminated.

"You're very good at casting spells, Gema," the Metta remarked, slipping inside the room. She flew to the window seat and stretched out, her cylinder-shaped form draped across a plush pillow. "Did you speak with your mother?"

"Yes," Gema replied, scrutinizing the old creature. "And how was your flight? I trust you did not annoy any of the townspeople while you were out."

"No, dear. I merely flew to one end of the town and then the other, although I was tempted to investigate the Scottsdale mansion before I returned. Derrick's Uncle Leonard is busy with party decorations. He has his servants working in the main ballroom."

Gema shrugged. "Derrick said it would be quite a celebration. He's seems very excited about it." Her brows drew together. "Mother warned me about Uncle Leonard. And I suppose I should warn Derrick."

"I smelled the rose petals on the breeze and saw the nightshade slip out the window. Is your spell for Derrick or his uncle?"

"Both." Her cheeks pinked. "I cast a two-fold spell, Midnight. I desire to keep Derrick safe and to deter any ill plans his Uncle Leonard might have in mind."

"I'm certain the deadly nightshade will do its job, Gema. It is the most powerful herb we have as witches."

She cocked her head. "I have no intention of allowing Leonard Scottsdale to harm Derrick."

The Metta nodded, making her amber hair swish lazily. "I understand mortal love is a wonderful thing. Should you desire I tend to Uncle Leonard--"

"I wish him no harm, Midnight."

The worm-like creature smiled, displaying fang-like teeth behind pale pink lips. "You may change your mind, my dear, when you learn what Leonard Scottsdale has in store for your beloved Derrick."

"If you know, why don't you tell me?"

The Metta wagged one thin finger. "I am here to protect you--not Derrick Scottsdale."

“Abby. Abby, close the mirror.” The voice seemed so far away and she was trapped in the cupboard.

A sharp jolt to her hand and the viewer snapped shut. Abby blinked in astonishment at what she had seen, felt and heard. “Holy crap.” He leaned over her and took the viewer from her hand. Contact was minimal, but she still managed to keep her power to herself.

“I am surprised that it took you that powerfully.”

He still kept his hands free of her as she wobbled to her feet and that act of separation made her grit her teeth. “I had to jump start the mechanism, it may be a little stronger now until you work the charge off it.” She settled back in on the sofa and took another slug of the lemonade. “Who knew that a seal could be that angry?”

He was putting the viewer back and turned to her in shock. “A seal?”

“Yeah. It was a seal’s soul trapped in that painting. A small magus sealed it in there after he found the seal almost dead on the beach. He then had a clown painted on the treated sealskin. He wanted people to be as scared of clowns as he was.” She relaxed back and let the images she had seen wash over her. It was a small child’s frustration and humiliation that drove him to create that painting. That he had control of enough magic to do it was just another tool for his plan.

“Seriously? A child did that?”

“Yeah, in the late sixties or so.”

“Do you know who it was?”

“No. But with the upped charge, you should be able to investigate. And the reason he attacked Laura was that she smelled a bit like a piece of herring. What seal could resist?” She kept her eyes closed as she heard him pick up the viewer and move to the painting again.

A few short moments later he closed the tool with a snap. “Sonofabitch. It was so simple and yet I couldn’t see it.”

“I am betting that it happens a lot with older mechanisms that rely on magic. But back to the reason I am on your couch. I need to know about what I am.” She didn’t have any room to put her feet up on his coffee table so she kicked off her shoes and curled her feet up on the couch.

“You are a Nexus.”

“Yeah, but why did the council put all of you here?” This question had been bugging her. “And who the heck is on the council anyway?”

“The council is a group of elected officials from the differing magical races that have survived to modern day.” He answered the second question first and crossed his own legs in the lotus position on the other couch.

Oh, he is limber. This has possibilities.

“The last few times a Nexus has been found, it has been drained dry by whoever found it and has died shortly after. We didn’t want that to happen to you.”

“We? Who is we?”

“Your new neighbours here on Oak Point Way. Each of us volunteered to be here as a type of an honour guard. If you can learn to control your dispensation of magic, you will live a long and healthy life.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You will sputter and burn out like a candle and there will be nothing we can do to help you. You carry the seeds of your own survival or destruction within you.”

Abby took a deep sip of her lemonade. “Wow, that is a heavy conversation killer. Okay. The next question is, why is the energy signature on my gnomes changing color?”

“Really? So quickly?”

“Uh, yeah. So. what is doing it?”

“As living things take on your energy, they convert it for their own use. The more they live, the faster they change. The tree for example will metabolize the energy that you gave it and your magic will be irretrievable from that point on.”

“Okay. So as long as it is still my energy, I can pull it back?”

“That is the theory. I don’t know of any cases where the Nexus was able to do it extensively though. That is why you need the training that I am offering you.”

She sighed heavily. “What exactly would this training entail?”

“Every morning when your energy is at its peak you will come over and I will give you exercises to enhance your control over your energies.“ Xander rose and moved to a side cabinet, the drawer that he opened yielded a seven-foot strand of pearls. “These pearls are a good outlet for your extra energy. You can fill them up one at a time and use them to relieve the overflow to prevent accidents like the one that struck Laura.”

Abby wrapped the pearls around her hand and hefted them. They were not light. “I am supposed to haul these things around with me?”

“Well, they will give you a place to put your extra energy. It’s your choice.” He crossed his arms and scowled.

How could she not find that sexy? Her power ramped up again and she filled three pearls in a few seconds.

Then three more as he stated, “I want to see you first thing in the morning, every morning until we get this under control.”

She would like to see him first thing in the morning, after they had spent the night tangling the sheets. Five more pearls. “Fine. I will be over here first thing in the morning tomorrow.”

“Excellent. I look forward to working this out with you. I will be here to help you out as long as it takes.” He took her hand in his and looked deeply into her eyes.

Ten more pearls. Oh, to hell with it. She jumped forward and locked her lips with his. It was just as fantastic as the first time, but this time she had him at a disadvantage and he took a moment to react. He reacted with passion and she was halfway through the necklace before she was able to break the contact. “Wow. Okay. We can’t do that again. Or we can’t do that again today. But I would definitely like to do that again. But not when we are working on extending my expiration date.”

His grin was devilish. “Done. The instant that you are firmly in control of the power, we have a date.”

She extended her hand and he shook it. “We have a deal. What is your official job title by the way?”

He was escorting her out and he gently pinched her backside as he gave her a light shove out the door. “I am the Safety Warlock. Do you feel safe?”

A large part of her still melted whenever she saw him, but with his council related absences, she had started to guard herself against his comings and goings. Miranda's trial had been weighing on his mind, his previous relationship with Randi colouring his new arrangement with Abby. It was a confusing situation, but as she drifted through her house and went to watch the goings on around her car, her heart warmed to see Xander directing the gnomes on how to change the oil and check the coolant.

The distinct tingle of magic that she felt whenever she saw the Safety Warlock ran though her. "So, how is the car, will she make the trip?"

"Why do you call it a she?"

"Because her name is Bluebell." Abby walked up to stroke the fender and the hatch of her battered station wagon. The magic jumped into the car.

Xander looked at her accusingly. "Was that necessary?"

"If we want her to take us down south, yes."

"Well, the gnomes wouldn't fit in my car unless we put them in the trunk and I don't think that is an option, is it?"

"Wow. You are a smart fella." He stood and wiped his hands on a rag as he approached her. He swept her into an embrace as he leaned her back against Bluebell.

Physically, his interest in her had no relation to her being the Nexus, but emotionally, he was distant. She shrugged and pressed herself against him from chest to knees. "Is that a wrench in your pocket or are you happy to see me?"

"Harby has the wrench."

The kiss he laid on her was enough to heat her blood, it was also enough to start spontaneous repairs of Bluebell's leprous hide. The car was going to be able to fly if he didn't stop doing that thing with his hands around her waist. Being with him gave her the feeling of being delicate and dainty. Dainty was something she had never before achieved.

"How is it that the gnomes know more about your car than I do?"

"They read the Haynes Manual. I found it under my bed a few days ago. Since Harby still had my keys, it wasn't too much of an issue for me. I wasn't worried about them taking it apart since I obviously couldn't drive it."

He leaned back and scowled. "The keys that I used to get into the car so we could open the hood?"

"Yup. Those keys. Harby ate them the day of the car bomb." Her grin was evil and she knew it. "I haven't seen them since."

He groaned. "Can I give them to you now?" He reached into his pocket and pulled the keys out. He jerked his hand back as Angel immediately darted from underneath the car to snatch them. Small scratches marred his skin as he brought his hand to his chest.

"Apparently the little buggers don't trust me not to blow up." He scuttled away with the keys clutched to his chest but the gargoyle didn't eat them, for which she was thankful.

"They are protective of you, almost to a ridiculous degree, but I do warn you that the summit is going to be a somewhat challenging environment for them. You may want to try and confine them to your room for some of the larger events."

"Well, as the current Nexus, where I go, my creatures go." His distraction was making her insular and weird. She wanted something familiar with her at all times. "I am practicing that phrase because I get the feeling that I am going to need it."

He laughed.

For just a moment she saw the man that she had fallen head over heels for. The man who had been subdued since she mentioned that her power was evolving. She didn't know what was going through his head, but before too long, she was going to get tired of this dance, even if a dance was what had drawn them together to begin with. A sharp peck on his lips and she squirmed free. "I have to check on Seesee and the little ones. Who knows what they are going to consider evening wear?"

He barked out a short laugh.

She smiled as she went back inside. It was safer to be out of his vicinity, her home was already opening the door before she touched it. The extra energy was bleeding off into her house and it liked it. Number thirteen Oak Point Way was getting a life of its own.

With the camaraderie having run its course, the ladies left Abby alone with her thoughts as she closed her door. Well, she tried to close it, but a frantic flapping of wings stalled her. Buffy struck her squarely in the chest, squeaking in distress.

"What is it honey?" Abby tried to calm the clinging gargoyle, but it was difficult with her wings still flapping and her claws digging into Abby's skin.

"Calm down, are you hurt?" Abby carefully used her inner eye to assess Buffy's condition. Her basic energy was stable, her body was not damaged and nothing was off.

"Holy heck." Nothing except for the small, bright spot of life blooming in the gargoyle's belly.

"Where are the boys?" Carrying the little creature, she held her tightly to her chest as she went to look for the other two gargoyles in the backyard. They were up in the trees, hanging baseball caps that they had stolen from unsuspecting men the previous autumn.

"Okay, Buffy. Who is the father?" She pried her creature off her and lured her onto the kitchen counter with a cookie. "Is it Angel?" No response in the aura.

"Not Firefly?" No reaction and the little gargoyle looked away.

What did that leave? "Is it a gnome?" The flare brightened into a hot, red pulse in Buffy's aura.

"Thank goodness. I was afraid it would have been an elf. That was a close one." She held her breath for her next round of questions. "Harby? No. Good. That would have been one ugly little bugger. Skint? No. Splint? No, good that would have been tricky. Oh, lord. That leaves Bitsy."

The flaring of her aura was telling the tale. It was Bitsy.

Abby sighed. It did make a certain amount of sense. Those two had always been drawn together. But a gnome-gargoyle baby? That was a little much to take in.

"Sweetie. When did it happen?" She held onto Buffy's little hand and smiled as the fingers gripped her.

Buffy waved her hand and squeaked again. This time it sounded more like a word. "Today."

"Wow. The little one seems to draw your magic a little."

"No fly."

"Oh. That was why you crashed into me. I think I can give you some supplements to help with that. But this will be your private stash. Don't let the boys into them or they will eat them all." Abby took a cookie and poured the power of the surprise she had felt when she realized she was about to be a grandmother to a flying gnome.

"One cookie a day until the baby gets bigger and then up to three. I will put them in a special spot and get the elves to guard it for you."

Buffy's cute little face with its wild mane of fluffy hair looked happy and hopeful as the cookie replaced some of the magic she had been missing.

"There. Better?" When her little one smiled and nodded, she said, "Good. Now you can tell Bitsy if you wish to, but if you want to keep the secret from your other companions, that is your choice. Come to me once a day for a check-up and I will try to compensate for any changes in the baby's growth cycle with extra boosts. At this point, it is all I can do. I think I may give the cookies to Laura. The gnomes won't dare break in to her yard…again."

That had been a funny afternoon. The gnomes wanted to know if they could swim and had jumped into Laura's pool, promptly sinking to the bottom and making mermaid retrieval imperative. Fortunately, what they did learn was that while they could not swim, they could not drown. It was a bright side.

However, after that escapade, Laura banned them from her yard unless Abby was there to babysit. It was a nice, safe place for power cookies.

She made the call and pressed one of her five cookie jars into service. She would leave it in the backyard in one of the small alcoves that was built into the reed hut that acted as a cabana.

Seesee had left her plenty of cookies, so she charged up a dozen and put them in the jar. Now, the only problem was sneaking over to Laura's without the gnomes seeing her.

A thought broke over her and she smiled at the simplicity. Laura was currently alone, so Abby had a few minutes until Verne came over for their date.

She knocked on the door, cookie jar in hand and simply gave it to Laura with instructions on where to put it. Buffy was sitting comfortably on Abby's shoulder and smiled brilliantly at the mermaid as she greeted her.

"Do you have the goods?" The dark and spooky voice Laura was using belied her bright grin.

In her own version of spy talk she whispered, "I've got the jar. Stash the goodies and all will be well."

A canny look came to the mermaid's eyes. "What will I get in return?"

Abby drew herself up straight. "I will order the gnomes to stop putting fish food in your tea and your juice and your salad." She had gotten enough amusement out of it anyway. Having minions had its good points.

"Deal." Laura extended her hands and took the cookie jar, not commenting on the teddy bear holding an Eat Me sign. "I look forward to doing business with you again, Nexus. Buffy, congratulations."

The little gargoyle extended her wings, stood up on Abby's shoulder and bowed. She squeaked her thanks and then settled back into her perching position.

The two bipedals shook hands and with a jaunty wave, Abby left her friend's yard just as Verne was making his way to his lady's sidewalk.

"Good evening, Verne."

"Evening, Nexus. Taking the gargoyle out for a walk?"

His question was just silly. "Of course I am. I can't ride her, now can I?"

Nothing broke one's sense of warm snugliness more than hearing, "Your snowmen were on the news. They froze someone in a solid cocoon of ice."

"It's a bad habit of yours to watch the news before you are awake, Xander. Give me a minute and I will prove you are insane."

Abby yanked the covers over her ears and tried to roll over. He stopped her by making the covers disappear. "Bastard."

"You have met my parents and they are married. Now get up. We need to get to the bottom of this and we have to examine that poor frozen man."

If Xander was going to insist she get up, he could at least dress her. She grumped into the shower and had a quick scrub. She was towelling her hair dry as she walked back to her room and still muttering to herself. Her clothes were laid out, so she jerked on the underwear, which let her know that the gnomes had done it.

The warlock had his panties in a twist.

Her gnomes had oatmeal on the table today. When Xander stayed over, they alternated good breakfasts with healthy ones, just to throw him off.

Abby scowled and munched her gray paste with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. They tried to make it tastier by adding chocolate chips and blueberries, but it was no plate of bacon.

"Come on, Abby. We have to look at the man who was frozen." Xander was on his feet and he had her jacket in hand.

"Fine, but my hair is going to freeze."

He waved his hand and it was bone dry.

"Nice trick. Let's move." She grabbed her jacket and stomped into her boots at the front door.

His car was waiting, warm and ready. They made quick time to the street in Sargent where the frozen man was making quite the stir.

The fire department was there, trying to cut him loose, but Abby could see with her inner eye that he was bound, not by ice but by magic. It was nothing like she had ever seen before. The snowmen were gently crusted, but this was a thick mass of magic that was as clear and hard as the ice that held him.

Tears clogged her voice. "We have to get him out."

"We can't. He is safe enough for now. Nothing can be done to save him, but nothing can be done to harm him." Xander turned the car back to Oak Point Way.

"If we destroy the snowmen, will that eradicate the ice?"

"It should. They are the binding magic after all."

"Why him? Why did they attack him?"

"He was defending his Christmas lights. There were, also, several other thefts of lights and generators. Whatever they are up to, it isn't good."

They were on the short span between their street and the main town when a snowman darted across the road in front of them. It disappeared into the woods, but it left Abby shaken.

"I thought they were slower in sunlight."

"They should be. It must be your magic that is speeding them up." He turned carefully on the slippery road and soon was in front of her house. "I am going to contact the specialists and see if they will come to help. If not, I will try to get what information I can from them. I will see you in three hours, alright?"

"Alright. I will give the gnomes a pep talk and try to keep them inside. Same for the gargoyles. I don't want them out there with those psycho snowmen in the yard."

"I doubt very much that they are still in your yard, but it is a good precaution." He leaned over and they kissed. "See you in a few hours and don't do anything reckless. I will be back as soon as I can."

"Back? From where?"

"The consultation with the experts. I have to transport myself to them. They won't talk over the mirrors."

"Okay. I won't do anything stupid and you will get back as quickly as you can? See you soon."

Abby hopped out of the car and held the door until her feet stabilized on the ice. Sliding her feet in a skating motion, she made her way to her door. As Xander entered his house, she had a feeling of foreboding. The gnomes were usually pretty good about keeping the walkways clear.

The house was silent. She took a deep breath and called for her creatures. "Everybody, front and centre."

Flustered, she jerked out of his grip and looked away. "Yes. I mean. You are very attractive." Rubbing her hands up and down her arms gave her something to do.

"But you are not besotted with me." He leaned back on the bench.

She was up and out of the reach of his long arms in a moment. "Um. No. I don't get besotted with anyone. It feels safer that way."

"Ah, but how can you live, or love, if you don't take risks?"

"I can live quietly."

His scowl could have peeled paint. "But that is simply existing, not living at all. Your short human life needs to be lived to the fullest."

Hearing it put like that was a little shocking. "You couldn't have sugar coated it?"

He was surprised. "What?"

"My short lifespan."

"There are ways of increasing it, but you would have to embrace your inner talent and let the magic run through you on a regular basis."

She rolled her eyes at that. "How am I to manage that?"

His blue eyes turned black as he leaned toward her. "Kiss me."

Kiss him. Yes, that seem the right thing to do. His hair was so silky, his mouth perfect, his skin cool as she cupped his jaw. Raffin tasted like Spring, all energy and light. Sophie sighed happily as their mouths met, touched and sparked power off each other. She made a soft sound of loss as he pulled back and her eyes opened wide to see his satisfied grin.

"That will work."

"Wait, what was that?" She was on her feet and backing away from him. Her body had been beyond her control for those few seconds, or minutes, whatever it was. She had wanted nothing more than to kiss him until the sunset dipped through the sky. "Is that the effect of a Love Talker?"

"It is." Raffin crossed his arms over his chest and crossed his ankles. The perfect epitome of lazy male. "As your mentor, I am giving you an assignment. I want you to make me kiss you."

"Are you nuts?"

"Our talent is sensual in nature, it is easiest to manifest in that manner. Come on. Just another kiss. It means nothing and you probably won't be able to get the command to stick."

He didn't think she could do it. That much was obvious. Her jaw set and she took a long look at her so called mentor. Reaching into her mind to find the source of her talent, she tried to pull it forward. Glaring at him she gave him the same command he had given her, "Kiss me."

"No." His grin was expansive and he shook his head until his gold locks spilled over his shoulders and exposed his pointy ears. "You are not connecting with your magic."

"How am I supposed to connect with it, I don't know what it is!" Frustrated, she closed her eyes and hugged her midriff in agitation.

"Think about what you are trying to accomplish. You are trying to entice me into kissing you. That cannot be done with the words alone. You need to feel it."

Chanting to herself that she couldn't believe she was doing it, she moved toward the bench and straddled her mentor, much to his surprise. She leaned forward, inhaled the light scent of his hair and the stronger scent of wild male underneath and then closed her eyes while she touched her talent. Opening her eyes, she saw him in a whole new way, his body was humming with energy and with a little effort, it could be hers. "Kiss me," came out of her throat in a whisper of sound, but it had a definite result.

Jack wanted to talk now, but he had no choice. He followed a very tipsy George and very tense Kevin out into the dusky evening. A group of men ran by in loin cloths and very green leis and paused at a statue across the road, lighting tiki torches. Jack was mesmerized by the sound of the conch shells being blown, of drums and the men running down the street. It was like a moment out of time and he found himself feeling disoriented and dizzy. He was back in the rainforest. He felt George’s breath on his face…heard his voice calling his name.

The rainforest…oh man. He was back inside it, only this time, he couldn’t find his way out…

A small, red bird with a very long, red beak was waiting for him on the branch of a tree. It turned its head and flew…its tiny wingspan burning orange against the liquid sunshine slanting through it. The bird soared gently through a light rainstorm and Jack found himself immersed in the primeval, heady place again. The smells made him dizzy…fruit…trees…air…and there was the man, stalking toward him, naked, except for the tiny bit of black fabric at his hips and buttocks. He walked with a confident, predatory gait.

It was the first time Jack had seen him up close. Oh man…he is sexy.  Oh…he is more than that. He was like an ancient warrior king. His gleaming black hair fell around his shoulders…he was holding a spear and he immediately pointed the arrow upward, as if to signify he meant no harm.

“I’m so pleased you could come again. Please…don’t be frightened.” He reached a hand out, but Jack wasn’t frightened, only amazed at this world of wonder. 

“Am I on Molokai?” he was aware of asking.

“Not yet, my love.”

Jack stared at the man, the most handsome, yet quietly powerful man he’d ever met. “Who are you?” he asked.

The man was almost on him now and Jack felt the sweat trickling down his neck.

“Jack!” a voice was calling him from someplace else. From a thousand lifetimes ago.

Alaka’i. It was a whisper on the wind.

This was ridiculous. She set the controls to follow the beacon at three thousand feet and went to the emergency supplies. She hooked the mask on and felt immediate relief as her preferred atmosphere blend came into her lungs.

Her ship rocked as something struck the side and she staggered back to the helm as quickly as she could.

"You are not authorized to enter this airspace. Please drop to fifteen hundred feet and wait for additional escort."

She pulled the breather from her face. "I am authorized to be in this airspace, I am a representative of the Sector Guard and you have just assaulted my ship."

A small craft was on her left side bearing the marks of impact with her ship.

"I don't have any record of your clearance. Where are you going?"

"Asher Prime. Please contact the ground control for the authorization specs." She snapped the mask back into place.

He was quiet for a moment and then he said, "Land. Land now! The Asher Prime signal was highjacked and your shuttle has been coated with acid. I don't even want to know if they got something into your ship."

She did a hull integrity check as she started to lose altitude. He was right. She had been coated with acid. A quick check of the interior of the shuttle showed more than a tolerable share of toxins. If she had been a Terran or Azon, she would have been dead. Her placement of the breather had probably saved her life.

She dropped out of the sky as fast as she could. Alarms sounded on every instrument she had and it was a controlled crash that skidded her hundreds of yards before her ship rocked to a halt.

The Archer was dead.

Moving as quickly as she could, she stuffed all of her equipment into a duffel, grabbed her away bag and blew the emergency exit. She took a few steps back, then sprinted through the hole, tumbled on the ground and ran as far away from the hulk of her ship as she could.

The small craft was landing nearby and she approached slowly, her hands out at her sides, carrying her bags.

A man exited the ship and held an object toward her. "Kneel."

She knelt and waited as he approached. The object he was holding was a palm scanner. "You have ingested quite a bit of toxic gasses. I am amazed you are still up and functioning. Nice landing, by the way."

She kept her mask on and watched him as he reached for her wrist. She jerked her arm back.

"Don't worry. This is just to flush your system. It's saline based and shouldn't have too great an effect on you, even with your physiology."

"You're a doctor?" She kept her arm against her chest and glared at him.

"What?"

Oh, her mask. Right. She pulled it away from her face and his eyes widened in surprise. "You're a doctor?"

"I have some medical training. Enough to tell that you aren't from around here." His golden eyes in his smoke grey face were smiling.

She extended her arm and waited for the rush of his emotions and thoughts. She was surprised when his warm, strong fingers made contact. He was calm, relaxed and concerned for her. With this man, instead of drowning in the ocean of emotion, she was standing on the shore and wanted to wade further in.

His black hair waved off his forehead and a lock slipped across his face, making him blow it upward as he tried to clear it. He was holding her wrist with one hand and administering a hypo to her skin with the other.

"What is your name?" Her voice was husky and soft to her own ears. She cleared her throat self-consciously.

"Ruar. Ruar Asher." His lips were curved in a charming smile as he looked into her eyes.

"I am Sector Guardsman Psyche out of Station 13."

"We have been expecting you."

When I looked into his eyes, all those concerns faded away and I felt myself giving in to the world around me.

"Hello," his voice held a deep timbre, powerful as he approached me with his hand held out. He spoke with a hint of a German accent, but it was subtle, as if he had been away from his home country for a long time. "I've missed you terribly."

My dream man had never spoken to me before. It was almost a creepy turn of events.

Nevertheless, I advanced toward him and took his hand gingerly. His fingers tightened over mine, and he urged me closer.

"I missed you, too," I practically whispered the response. I suddenly felt intimidated in his presence though it didn't come close to deterring me from getting closer. "I don't understand all of this."

"Shh." The only sound I had ever heard him make was a familiar and comforting one. He smiled as he put a finger to my lips. "It'll all become apparent to you eventually. I promise."

"I trust you." I felt overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze. It made me melt inside, and I smiled self-consciously. A huff of laughter offset the tension. "You're so beautiful… I wish you were real."

"Who says that I'm not?" He leaned closer and kissed my forehead. "Just because this isn't real doesn't mean what we have won't be real someday."

"I don't understand." It was the honest truth. I knew that these moments were not merely daydreams but what specifically they were, I hadn't guessed. The worst part was that I was on autopilot outside of them. I was on the verge of questioning my sanity. "How is this possible?"

"I think that we're supposed to be happy here." He kissed my cheek and shifted so he could whisper in my ear. "There might not be many happy days ahead. I don't have all the answers, Miranda, but I do have something almost as valuable--hope."

"Hope?" I began to tremble, and he gave me a careful hug. "Hope for what?"

"The future." He drew his head back to look me in the eyes again. "Ours…the world's… everything."

"That's enough to make a girl afraid." I tried to make the comment flippant, but instead it sounded weak.

"And what's this enough to do?" He leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. The contact was gentle at first but escalated swiftly until we were deep in the midst of a passionate dance of muffled moans.

There was something about his very presence that drove me wild physically. I wanted him to possess me--to comfort me with his touch. In contrast, I was desperate to see him relax his broad shoulders and gaze at me through eyes that spoke of pure happiness--the kind of emotion where one surrenders to all else.

It was my turn to take control.

It's mid-October and now that her divorce is final, Erica Parkhurst is free to return to Spirit Lake and Joe Lakota, the man she left behind. Yet she is riddled with doubts and fears. Can they rekindle their romance of the summer? And can she put aside memories of her terrifying experience at the hands of a coldblooded killer and go back to the small town in Western Pennsylvania?

An urgent call for help from Evelyn Black, proprietor of the Spirit Lake Inn where Erica stayed during her last visit, decides the issue. Accompanied by her best friend, Paula Bascilla, Erica leaves New York City again for the Allegheny Mountains and an uncertain future. But once more, trouble comes Erica's way when she learns that Joe has another dark secret hidden in his past, one that makes him a prime suspect in a new murder case.

Paula Bascilla, a woman with psychic abilities, can feel the spirits surrounding her the minute she steps into the inn. Excited at the prospect of contact with some of the wayward ghosts, she is looking forward to her stay. What she isn't counting on however, is being blindsided by tall, unassuming Cal Motega, co-owner of The Eagle Hill Cafe. 

As Erica and Paula contend with the inn's unpredictable guests, arson fire and at the same time try to clear Joe's name, they discover a valuable link to Erica's past that could tie her to Spirit Lake forever. But there are still many unanswered questions. Will Erica's love for Joe survive this latest test? Who are the ghosts haunting the inn and why can't they rest? Is Paula willing to give love a chance with the mysterious Cal Motega?

Return to Spirit Lake and find out.

EXCERPT:

She moved on to the next painting, which was totally bereft of people. Then she recognized the landscape. It was the hill where the inn now sat and below it the lake, only the dock wasn’t there, just the woods surrounding it.

“I see you recognize it,” Cal observed.

“Was it a burial mound?” Paula asked.

Cal’s hands now rested lightly on her shoulders. When had he put them there? She wasn’t sure, but it felt good. No, it was more than that, it felt natural. Like they belonged there.

“That story has circulated since I can remember, but there’s no proof.”

“Surely there are records somewhere.”

“The Hartsburg Historical Society has volumes of records going back to the 1700s, but I’ve never bothered to go looking. Most of what I know about my own ancestors comes from stories handed down through the generations, and they don’t mention it.”

“There’s no local historical society?”

Cal shook his head. “Combined them years ago. Financial reasons. Hartsburg had more funds available and the one here was dying.”

Paula smelled the aroma emanating from the kitchen. “Hazelnut coffee?”

“Thought you might like it,” he told her.

He withdrew his hands and she suddenly missed his touch. “My favorite. How did you know?”

“Psychic,” he quipped.

They drank their coffee at the small drop-leaf table by the kitchen window and talked some more. She loved the sound of his voice, deep, resonant, masculine.

She’d chosen her outfit carefully for this evening. The skirt was of a rich deep tan chamois, and hit her just below the knees. She had shapely calves, or at least she’d been told that, so she wanted to make sure he saw them. No hose. She had a good tan. Her shirt was emerald green, with three- quarter length sleeves and a scoop neck that showed just enough cleavage to be enticing, but not slutty. At least that’s what Erica had told her before Cal picked her up. Of course there was an abundance of jewelry, including a pair of gold double loop earrings with the smaller loops hanging inside the larger ones.

Cal offered her cookies, she declined. “Got to keep my girlish figure, you know. At least what’s left of it.”

“Your figure looks just fine to me, at least what I can see of it,” he countered, eyeing her with a little more intensity than his tone indicated.

Paula knew, this moment would set the tone for the rest of the evening. Casual and friendly or very friendly, it was up to her. Cal had effectively put the ball in her court to make that decision. “I like you, Cal. A lot. It would be very easy right now to—”

He got up, came around the table, pulled her to her feet, into his arms and kissed her soundly. The minute she felt his body against hers, his tongue probing her mouth, she forgot her little let’s-start-out-slowly-and-see-what-happens speech.

Then, he surprised the hell out of her when he pulled back and led her to the sofa. “I want to hear about you, Paula. How about some more coffee?”