Spirited

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Pink Petal Books Pink Petal Books, an imprint of Jupiter Gardens Press, publishes romance novels where the relationship is primary. It doesn’t matter if you want to read super erotic or sweet inspirational books. Pink Petal Books believes that love is a beautiful thing, no matter what form it takes. For more information about Pink Petal Books visit http://www.pinkpetalbooks.com/.

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SPIRITED ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Copyright © CARI Z., 2009 Cover Art ® 2009 by Pink Petal Books Edited by Mary K. Wilson Electronic Publication Date: August 2009 This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Jupiter Gardens Press, Jupiter Gardens, LLC., PO Box 191, Grimes, IA 50111 For more information to learn to more about this, or any other author’s work, please visit http://www.pinkpetalbooks.com/

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Spirited Cari Z.

PPB Publisher’s Note: This novella was written without chapter breaks. In order to keep true to the author’s vision of this story, the publisher has chosen not to add any chapter breaks. Thank you for your understanding and enjoy reading.

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A single pink orchid sat on my desk when I returned to the station. Just the one flower, elegant and exotic, curving slightly towards my chair with its sweet-smelling blossom perfuming the room. And it was growing out of my coffee cup. “Damn it!” I swore. I threw the paper sack that held my lunch onto my desk. No way. No way in hell. I stormed out of my cubicle and down the hall to where my supervisor, Jack Myers, spoke on the phone in his own, much larger, office. He held a hand up to forestall any speaking on my part while he continued nodding into the phone. I waited with ill grace until he hung up a few minutes later, and then I exploded. “I’m not doing it!” “Andrea.” He tried to placate me. “It wasn’t my idea, but the commissioner insisted on it. Try to be reasonable.” “Reasonable?” I exclaimed. “How can I be reasonable, when you’re handing my case over to that arrogant, selfish, ass-kissing little—” “Andrea, you’re keeping the case. O’Connell will just be assisting in the fieldwork. It’s safer for you to have backup anyway. Someone inside the clubs, not just sitting in a squad car a block away.” It was reasonable, but I didn’t want to listen. “He can’t tear himself away from a mirror long enough to be helpful. Jack, I’ve been working on this case for three months and I deserve to be the one to see it through. Just because the police commissioner thinks Darren O’Connell is the greatest thing since the inception of forensic thaumaturgy doesn’t make him a good man in the field. He’s a lab rat disguised as a caped crusader. He doesn’t follow orders. He—” “Steals glory?” Jack interrupted softly. His voice was kind but his expression was firm. “I know how you feel about O’Connell. I know you two have a history together. But you said it yourself, Andrea. You’ve been working the case for three months. You still haven’t managed to get your hands on a sample of the drug. We need to know what we’re dealing with in order to hunt down the people who are manufacturing and distributing it, and this stuff has the fastest half-life of any magical narcotic we’ve ever encountered. We can’t hold the people who sell it because as soon as they turn out their pockets, the stuff disappears.” He sighed heavily, the lines in his face deepening. “Meanwhile we’ve got everyone from runaway kids to the wife of a state senator getting sick on the stuff. O’Connell’s skills fit this case. The police commissioner thinks we need him to close it, and I’m tending to agree with him.” Jack heaved himself up from behind his desk and walked around to me, then took one of my hands in both of his. It wasn’t strictly professional, but I didn’t care. Jack and I went way back. He was one of the only people in the world I could truly call a friend, him and his wife Moira.

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The only other person in this part of the country I’d known as long as them was Darren, and our relationship hadn’t turned out so well. “He’ll be back pretty soon. He had some sort of official luncheon to get to and couldn’t wait for you. When he comes back, let him read the case file, okay? Try to be polite. You’re both adults. Both professionals. Both cops. You can do this.” It was all true, and yet I felt like a whiny teenager. Something about Darren pushed my angst button. Maybe it was his showmanship, maybe it was that his career had gone so much further than mine, maybe it was just that I still woke up with tears on my face after I dreamed about him. But Jack was right. I needed to focus on solving the case. People’s lives depended on it. “Yeah,” I said, my voice almost steady. “Yeah, of course, I can. Sorry about the tantrum, Jack.” “If you never threw them, I’d suspect a doppelganger had taken your place.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded with a smile. “Mean? What? Did I say something?” Jack grinned and headed back around to his chair. “Old age is messing with my short term memory. Or at least that’s what I tell my wife whenever I can’t find the remote to change the channel from football to interior decorating.” “You’re a bad man.” I shook my head. “Very bad. I hope Mo gives you hell.” “She does, and I prefer to think of it as adding a little spice to our relationship,” he replied smugly. “Now get out of here. Go take a walk or meditate or whatever you have to do to be ready to deal with him when he gets back.” “Will do.” I turned around and left his office, moving a lot more slowly than I had when I’d entered it. Inside though, my heart raced. Meditate? I’d need my punching bag to calm down now. I sat down hard in my chair, rocking it back onto two wheels, and stared resentfully at the orchid. My lunch sat uneaten on the desk, and my appetite had fled with my composure. Darren O’Connell. Shit. Well, the least I could do was be ready. I started organizing the files on my desk, pulling together everything I had on the drug case. The files practically were my desk these days; this case had consumed my world. A brand new drug called fairy dust, manufactured by magic and controlled the same way, it seemed. I had been trying to get a bead on the dealers for weeks and weeks; that was usually the easiest place to start. It was no good, though. The drug dissolved into thin air as soon as we touched one of them. Apparently intent played into its very existence, and if we weren’t buying then we weren’t getting anything, not even a speck. Buying it didn’t work either, not in the long term. If you didn’t take it in under a minute, it vanished again. There was something new every day, but this stuff was so new it was on a level all its own.

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I was so busy getting things together that I didn’t notice his arrival. The scent from the flower suddenly grew stronger, and I looked up just in time to see him run one of his long, slender fingers down one of the velvety petals. “I designed this orchid just for you, Andi.” I didn’t raise my gaze beyond his hand. I didn’t want to see the slow curve of that smile spreading across his face, his too-handsome face. I didn’t want to look at him at all. After a brief pause, I kept pulling my paperwork together. “Pink isn’t my color.” “Well, originally it was going to be a lighter shade, but there was a little coffee left in your mug when I willed it to grow.” He sounded amused. “Light pink is still pink, Detective O’Connell. It’s a pale, washed-out figment of its better self, but it’s still pink.” “Do I detect some rancor, Detective Haney?” I lost my cool and glared up at him. It hurt to see him for a moment, standing so close after years apart, but I let my anger override the piece of me that still felt an anxious sense of desire and longing in his presence. He was smiling, the bastard. His hair was a rich auburn, longer than regulation but of course he got away with that. He was part of a family that got away with a lot of things thanks to their warm, endearing perfection. Their particular gift leant itself to beauty and health. Whereas mine… It isn’t a competition, I reminded myself sharply. I made myself smile at him. “Rancor? Not at all, Detective O’Connell. Here.” I thrust a three-hundred page file into his arms. “Some reading material to start you off. Feel free to pull up a footstool.” “I’m fine here, thanks,” he replied, settling his weight on the edge of my desk. “And I think you can probably fill me in faster than reading this file could.” Damn, he was right. I fought to keep my professional face. “What do you want to know?” “Do you have any ideas about the chemical makeup of the drug?” “All we know is that it’s a powerful hallucinogen,” I replied. “It induces euphoria in small doses. Larger doses lead to manic fits, hysteria and seizures. A large enough dose can cause death, and it isn’t a pretty way to go.” My eyes glazed over for a moment as I remembered the girl from last weekend. Cute young thing, probably expecting ecstasy and instead she screamed herself to death. When I came out of my brief stupor, I noticed Darren looking concernedly at me. Concern looked good on his face, but I knew better than to trust him. “Despite that, the demand for the stuff is higher than ever. Fairy dust has a magical component to it that connects it to the will of the dealer. If they want it gone, it’s gone. It has to be used fast and that’s probably one reason for the overdoses. People get anxious and they take too much.” “The maker is a sorcerer, then.”

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I nodded. “And the dealers all have to have some ability, in order to make the connection to the drugs. There aren’t that many people with ability in this part of the world, even with the minor amounts needed for this job. There are several guys that I’ve been covering, but they move around a lot, and the sorcerer has a spell that changes their appearances.” “Aha.” Darren smiled knowingly. “That’s the real reason you’re on this case.” My particular talent did assist me with identifying people, but the way he said it rankled. “I’m on this case because I broke this case wide open, Detective O’Connell. I work vice, or didn’t you remember that? Oh wait, that’s right!” I plastered a falsely bright smile on my face. “You don’t get into the trenches anymore. You’re too busy kissing ass on Capitol Hill and making love to politicians. Do Italian boots taste better when you lick them, Dare?” I tried to make him mad. I hated his presumption, his casual ease, his designer clothing and his heartthrob smile. I wanted to break his composure. Angry, guilty, whatever—as long as it wiped away his cool. Instead, h e threw his head back and laughed. “Oh my god, no one has called me Dare for years! Andi, you do care.” “No, I don’t.” “If you say so.” He glanced down at the file. “So you need me to stabilize the drugs?” “So they tell me. We need to find out what’s in them, get a handle on where the sorcerer is getting his raw materials.” “Why not just tail the dealers?” “It’s not that easy,” I said defensively. “Their appearance changes, Detective. It changes every five freaking minutes. This is a high-level spell, and I’m under orders not to break cover. I’m a spotter, nothing more.” That rankled, too. “But by the time I get a description off to the uniforms and they move to arrest, the face has changed. The one time we did get a collar, the drugs had evaporated. This is a sharp organization. These guys are really good.” “Is your cover solid?” God, I wanted to smack him so hard I knocked his fine-looking ass off my desk. “Yes,” I said slowly and calmly. “My cover is solid. My cover is great. My cover is not the issue here, so drop it.” “It’s a security question, Andi, nothing personal.” Everything is personal with you! Damn, I was losing it. I needed space, fast. “If you have everything you need to make a start, I’d appreciate it if you’d go, Detective O’Connell. I have a lot of work to do.” “I’m sure you do,” he replied. “Are you running an operation tonight? Should I be getting ready?” 7

There was no way I was ready to run an operation with him. “Not tonight. I’ve got other plans. Tomorrow.” “Friday it is.” He got up off my desk, taking the file with him. “I think I’ll go see Jack again before I leave. It’s been a long time. Call me when you’re ready to go out.” “Yeah.” He paused, then crouched down next to my desk, balancing lightly on the balls of his feet. His eyes forced mine to meet them. “It’s good to see you again, Andi. Really.” I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t since my throat seemed to be swollen shut. Forcing it open now would cause a dam to break inside of me, and I couldn’t live with myself if I made a pathetic scene in front of Darren. He looked at me searchingly for a moment, then got up and walked away. I exhaled explosively as soon as he turned into Jack’s office, and felt the prick of treacherous tears threatening my eyes. I had to get out of there. I grabbed my jacket off the back of my chair, pulled my bag off the floor and tossed my unappetizing lunch into the trash can. After a moment’s pause, I took the stupid orchid with me as well. I went out the back door, not wanting to go by Jack’s office with Darren in it. My little clunker was waiting for me in the lot. Parked right next to it was a monstrous SUV, silver hued with custom hubs. Darren’s car. The irony of his parking placement didn’t escape me. If I didn’t love my Beetle so much, I would have bashed his door with mine. I kept my composure and pulled out of the lot. I kept it on the drive home. I kept it until I was through the front door of my apartment, my things were on the counter and my shoes were off. Then I started crying. It didn’t make any sense. I was over Dare, I really was. I hadn’t had any interaction with him for five years, not since we were both rookies working our first cases together. We had met in training, and as the only two trainees with extra abilities, we were put together a lot by the instructors. It was impossible not to be attracted to him at first sight. Beautiful and talented and smart…back then he had been kind, too. He was the first person in his family to break with the healing tradition to go into law enforcement, and he felt isolated because of it. I was thousands of miles away from my family, and even lonelier. We became friends, partners and eventually lovers. The partnership only lasted a year. We were assigned to find an escaped convict hiding in a Louisiana swamp. He was half troll, and talented enough with nature magic to hide himself well. Dare could track him through the muck. He’d always been good with finding things in the wild. We’d followed him into a deep section of mangroves before realizing that it was a trap. Hip deep in swamp water, the liquid became thick sludge, holding us fast. The half-breed could do more with his magic than just evade us, it turned out. The mud sank beneath our feet, burying us further and further in the glutinous water.

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Except it didn’t affect Dare like it did me. He didn’t realize before that day exactly how much power he had. He broke free of the spell, propelled himself straight out of the water and willed the mangroves themselves to hold the convict in place. It was an astonishing display of nature magic, and the convict was as surprised as Dare. Once the troll was secure, Darren remembered me. Only by that point, I had drowned. He saved me, obviously. Pulled me out of the water and revived me with his skill. He wasn’t as good with people as the rest of his family was but he had more than enough power to restart my heart. So I went to the hospital, the convict went back to jail, and Dare sailed into the limelight. He got a lot of attention for the case and soaked it up like a cat in a sunbeam, delighting in being recognized as more than just an appendage of his famous family. Oh, he remembered me eventually. He came to the hospital, brought me heaps of flowers and apologized for waiting to save me. He knew he’d be able to bring me back, he’d told me. It was a simple enough trick. He would never have let me die; he’d always be there to save me. Except he had let me die. I had drowned. Drowning sucked. Sure, it was just for a few seconds, but a few seconds were long enough. It didn’t matter that Darren could cheat death. Those seconds might as well have been forever for all I had known. The fact remained that he’d gone for the convict before me. Maybe the troll might have escaped, but I set my life a little higher in the chain of importance than losing a target. We’d have found him again, together. Instead I came off like dead weight and Dare was the hero. I’d refused to listen to his apologies. Professions of love had no effect on me. I sent his gifts back unopened, let his flowers die and never picked up the phone when he called. We’d already been assigned new partners. Dare was on the fast track and I was still mired in sludge. After a year, he stopped trying. If I had a fatal flaw, it was pride. I wanted to be first in his heart, in his mind, in his life. I had convinced myself that I was first, no matter what situation we got into. I was wrong, and learning that devastated me. He’d done his job and we’d come out of it alive, but I hadn’t been first. He was desperate to prove himself and let that desperation rule his actions, and it had worked out for him, but I couldn’t forgive him. I just couldn’t. He was one of my first friends in a new place, and my first lover ever, and I had been crazy about him. The line between love and hate really was fine. I’d thought I’d hated him, and in some ways I did, but that didn’t mean my love was totally exorcised either. I cried for about ten minutes, hugging one of the throw pillows on my couch and cradling my knees against my chest. I finally got tired of being pathetic and wiped my eyes, blew my nose and drew myself a hot bath. Two hours of soaking and a couple glasses of wine later I was feeling a lot better, and not a little sheepish. I could handle this. I had to handle it since my ass was on the line if things didn’t get resolved soon. 9

It wasn’t like anyone was going to blame Darren. So I was working with him again, big deal. I could contain both my anger and my desire for him, especially if I focused hard enough on the job. I badly wanted to catch the sons of bitches that were behind this. Even if I did have to share the credit. I dressed in some sweats and prowled restlessly around my apartment for a while. It was early and I was bored. Most nights I was out in the clubs stalking the dealers, but I’d blown that option for tonight. Pouring another glass of wine, I lay down on the couch and hauled a photo album out from under the coffee table. I probably shouldn’t have been looking, but he was in my mind now and I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I didn’t have many pictures of Darren, but the few I did have were gorgeous. Of course, everything he did was gorgeous. He could have made a lot more money as a male model than a cop, but service was bred into his bones. There were a few of him in uniform. Yummy. I didn’t have to like him to be able to appreciate his body, and he wore a uniform well. His hair was shorter back when these were taken, but otherwise he looked the same. Happy, smiling Dare. There were a couple of the two of us together as well, one with us both in our dress uniforms—that had been taken right after graduation, I remembered. The other was a casual picture from our celebration later that evening. I didn’t look so out of place next to him. My straight black hair was pixie-cut, and my pale skin glowed under the restaurant lights. One of his arms was wrapped around my slender waist, and while I was looking at the camera, he was looking at me. He liked holding me. We had always been good together, physically. The last picture was a Polaroid, one I had snapped of him sleeping. I only got his face and shoulders into the picture, and hair was obscuring most of his expression, but even sleeping his mouth tilted slightly up at the corners. I sighed, then shut the book and stowed it again. Reminiscing like this wasn’t healthy, but it was hard not to think about him when we were being thrust together again. He was probably dating. Whenever his picture made it into the papers, if he wasn’t posing with a city official, he had a girl on his arm. All beautiful women, and probably all as shallow as he was. I wanted to say they deserved him, but even now I wasn’t so sure. Christ, I needed a life. I spent a few hours working up a sweat on my treadmill and with my punching bag. I reheated Chinese leftovers, had yet another glass of wine and popped in a DVD. What was Darren doing tonight? Going out to a new restaurant with one of his women, staying in with a bottle of champagne and a box of chocolates— God damn it! I was not this pathetic! I switched out the romantic comedy I had put in for an action flick, and let the panic and mayhem surrounding the main character take me out of my head for a while. Eventually, I got tired enough to actually fall asleep, and wandered back to my bed, pausing to take a pass at my teeth with the toothbrush before falling into the comforter.

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The problem with sleeping was the dreaming. My subconscious was running the show tonight, and it knew exactly where it wanted to go. We were lying on my bed, moonlight illuminating the curves of our bodies. One arm held me close as the other trailed across my forehead, down my face and towards my breast. His touch was light and sure, and his long, skillful fingers gently pulled moans from my lips as he caressed my nipple, pinching it lightly before traveling lower, finally reaching the wet, pulsing heat between my thighs and stroking me there, curling his fingers in and up as they penetrated me. His erection was hard against my thigh, and I reached for it even as he touched the spot in me that made me arch, cry out his name and start to come against his hand, grinding against it as the waves of my orgasm crested and broke my body into a million pieces. “Dare!” My eyes flew open. I was awake. I was alone. I was making a mess out of my sweats. I took a moment to catch my breath and slow my heartbeat. Oh, hell. This was going to be harder than I’d thought. I glanced at the clock. Five a.m., and I wasn’t going near sleep again. If I was going to be up, I might as well get something done. I got out of bed and dropped my soiled clothes into the hamper, then headed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. It looked like I’d be going in to the office early today. I got my things together, including the outfit I’d be wearing for the evening, and headed for the front door. The sight of the unwanted orchid sitting on my counter stopped me. It was looking a little wilted. Hah, I should let it wither. It would be a fine metaphor for my relationship with Darren. In reality, though, I couldn’t do that. This wasn’t like the cut flowers he had given me before. The orchid was a living thing and I didn’t want to destroy it, despite the fact it was growing out of my favorite coffee cup. I carried it over to the sink and added some fresh water, then put it in a shady spot on my kitchen counter. I’d figure out a better system later. I was the only one in the office that early. I got a muffin from the communal box up front that Mandy, our station manager, always kept supplied, bless her. I would have gotten some coffee to go with it but my mug was gone and I’d forgotten to grab another one before I left the house. Brilliant. I settled in at my desk and fired up my computer, ignoring the sand in my eyes and the tiny receptors in my brain that screamed for caffeine. Wouldn’t it figure that the second person into the office would be Darren? I frowned in his direction as he saw me and beamed, a wide white smile splitting his perfect lips. He was carrying two designer paper cups and immediately brought one over to me. “I was going to leave this here for you, but you beat me.” He extended the drink towards me, and then looked a little closer. “Rough night?” “Slept like a baby.” When I didn’t take the cup, he set it down on my desk. “Cinnamon soy latte, your favorite.” Oh god, it was my favorite, and he had remembered. I had stopped drinking it after our last case together. It had been a long, long time since that drink had passed 11

my lips. Fuck, I was kidding myself when I said everything between us was in the past if I just now remembered the drink I’d given up because it reminded me of him. “Thanks,” I managed after a moment. “But I’ve already had some coffee. Maybe later.” “It’ll keep for a bit,” he replied, sipping his own drink. He looked at the bag beside my feet. “What’s that?” “My gear for tonight.” “Your disguise.” He drew the word out mockingly. “My cover. I suggest you get yourself one as well. No one in these clubs wants to see a cop, even one that looks like you.” Damn, the compliment slipped past my lips before I could stop it. Darren’s lips quirked up slightly, but all he said was, “I’ll get something together.” “Good.” I looked pointedly towards the door. “Don’t you have some place to be?” “As a matter of fact, yes. I just wanted to drop off the coffee and return this.” He passed the file back over to me. “Interesting reading.” “You finished it in one night?” He shrugged. “I wasn’t doing anything else. My cell number’s on the top. Call me when you need me.” “Just come by around eight.” I preferred not to call his private line if I could help it. “Your wish is my command.” He turned and walked back out the door, leaving the cinnamon soy latte and the faint scent of his cologne in the air. I picked up the cup and sipped it tentatively. The flavors flooded over my tongue, sweet and nutty and slightly bitter, and I sighed with contentment. I had missed this drink. I had missed…I threw myself back into my work and let the coffee grow cold beside me. At seven thirty, I got into my outfit. First came the wire, strategically taped to my body and equipped with a kill switch so I could keep the patrol car from suffering through all the background noise. Then I got into my gear. I was staking out The Tomb tonight, a neo-goth club that catered to a crowd interested in magic and more. You had to look the part just to get in and I did. Black fishnet stockings, knee high fuck-me boots covered with steel studs, a black mini-dress cut to my navel in the front, thick makeup around my eyes and blood red lips, completed with a pale blond wig that fell to my shoulders. I added a few pieces of strategic silver jewelry and a studded black leather collar, then went back into the office. Ramy and Johnson were my follow car tonight. They were most nights, and when they saw me come through the door I got the usual cat calls from them. It didn’t bother me, they were mostly joking. I didn’t count on Darren’s scrutiny, though. His

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jaw just about hit the floor as I entered, and his bright baby blues widened. I had to admit, that made me feel good. He was dressed generic club chic, but fortunately all in black. I reached into my purse and handed him the makeup bag. “Don’t stint around the eyes.” To give him credit, he didn’t blanch, just took the bag and headed for the restroom. Michel Ramy winked at me. “Stunning as ever. You look ready to suck a few throats. Can I volunteer?” “Ha, ha-ha, aha.” I smiled, though. Michel was happily married, but he liked to tease. “Let’s just check the mike, okay?” Ramy and Johnson were gone by the time Darren reemerged, and it was my turn to stare. He was stunning. He had been stunning before, but when he was given a part he got into it. The makeup made his features almost feminine, and he had changed a few things with his sleeves and slit the side of his black jeans up to mid-calf. He winked one mascara-laden eye at me. “Ready if you are. Mind if I drive?” “No.” Kind of, but I wasn’t going to admit it. We walked out into the night together. It was a good thing it was summer or I’d have been uncomfortable in my mini-everything, but the breeze was warm. His car smelled slightly of his cologne, and slightly like a woman’s perfume. I didn’t want to think too much about whose. We didn’t speak on the ride to The Tomb. Darren parked about a block away, and then turned to me. “So, do we know each other?’ “Inside, you mean?” He nodded. “We’d probably better.” It made sense if he was going to be my backup that we have reason to stick close to one another. “But no touching unless absolutely necessary.” I had to emphasize that part. I didn’t know what Darren touching me would do to my control. “I’ll be a gentleman,” he promised me. We got out of the car and walked down to the club. In my heels I was his height, and side by side I’m sure we were striking. We were at least good-looking enough to cut most of the line and get right in. The club was packed, most of the people were out on the dance floor, writhing to the latest Marilyn Manson rip-off playing live on the stage. No DJs for The Tomb, they always went for costumed moaners who didn’t sing so much as slur or scream their lyrics into the microphone, and somehow always managed to look and sound the same. Not my favorite, but who was I to judge, dressed like a slutty vampire wannabe myself? Darren and I made our way to the bar. It was less crowded than the floor, and I perched up on a stool to get a better view. Darren leaned in close to me. “What are we looking for?” “I’ll know it when I see it.” 13

“I see.” He looked up at me, concern evident. “Should I be worried about you passing out?” “No, I’m keeping it short until I find one of them. If a dealer shows up tonight at all.” “And if one does?” I shrugged. “We figure out a way to get you some fairy dust. If we can take it off a buyer it would be better, I don’t want to tip our hand. Once I get the dealer, I’ll let you know who he’s passing it to, and you can try to get a sample and preserve it.” “Sounds good.” Time to work. I focused my energy, sending it deep into my body. My vision blurred and my breathing slowed as I prepared myself. Another few seconds, and then I pushed. My spirit suddenly escaped my body. My body was sitting on the stool where I’d left it, eyes glazed over, chest unmoving. I could last as long as I could hold my breath. If I stayed out of my body too long, I would lose consciousness and my spirit would be forced back inside. Darren was looking at me, his expression rapt. I turned away from us and back towards the floor. Projecting was my ability. In my spirit form, I could see things normal eyes couldn’t. Auras became visible, glamours disappeared and I could see people for what they truly were. That meant I could see everything, from the slightest physical hurt to the deepest emotional satisfaction. Everything manifested in the spirit some way, and when I separated, I could see it all. It had taken me years to make my talent into something useful and it was a hard-earned ability. I didn’t like seeing what people were really all about. We put up walls for a reason. I scanned for the dealer. I could see a few users in the crowd, but they might have come here from somewhere else, none of the doses glowed with freshness. When the dealer showed up, he’d glow from head to foot. Fairy dust affected the spirit in profound ways, and I wondered what sort of people the sorcerer had found to deal that could handle the drug’s volatility. Cold-blooded psychos? Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Normal people had a capacity for cruelty that was amazing, given the right circumstances. My body was beginning to tug insistently at my spirit. I let them slide together and suddenly took a deep breath, then began to cough. “Here.” Darren handed me a glass filled with tonic water. I drank slowly, settling my stomach after the separation. Nausea was a frequent side effect of my projecting. “You’ve gotten better at that,” he commented after a moment. “I’ve had reason to work on it,” I replied. “No luck yet. I’ll try again in five minutes.” “What’s the longest you can hold it?” he asked. 14

“About two minutes. After that I usually pass out. It’s easier when I’m able to lie down, but I think even these people would notice if I suddenly went catatonic.” “They probably would,” he agreed. “I didn’t know you could walk so well in heels.” A slightly abrupt topic change there. “Well, I didn’t know you could apply eyeliner so well. We all have our secrets.” “I suppose we do.” Now he was staring at me, and his gaze was intense. “Andi…can we talk about what happened?” “There’s nothing to talk about.” “Obviously there is or we wouldn’t be talking about it.” “Stop trying to be cute,” I hissed at him under my breath. “We’re working. This isn’t the time to bring up personal issues. I need to be on my game tonight and so do you.” “Later, then.” “Later,” I agreed reluctantly, then turned my eyes back to the crowd. It took five more tries, but eventually the mix started to change. More and more people were showing up with fairy dust, and after a moment’s search I spotted the dealer. “There,” I murmured to Darren. “Latino guy, red velvet jacket, black fedora.” I relayed the information to Ramy as well. “I see him,” Darren replied. “I’ll keep an eye on him, watch for the next hand off.” “Okay.” A few minutes later, Darren slid away from the bar. I don’t know how he jammed his way through a floor full of people, but in moments he was within five feet of the dealer and grinding his body obscenely against a heavier, dark-haired woman wearing a corset two sizes too small for her. She seemed to be enjoying his attention, and slid one hand around to cup his ass. I fought a sudden, irrational surge of jealousy down. After a few more moments, he disengaged himself and melted away into the crowd. The woman looked around in confusion. By the time she gave up, Darren was back by my side. “Strong grip,” he commented absently, his hand fingering something in his pocket. “Did you get some?” I asked. “Yes.” He closed his eyes. “It’s hard to hold on to, though. I’m putting a barrier around it now so it won’t evaporate. There are traces of botanicals…and powdered sugar, believe it or not.” “Oh, I believe it.” I might doubt Dare, but never his abilities. Then I saw something that made me curse. “Oh, shit.” 15

“What?” He followed my gaze, then grimaced. The woman whose pocket he’d picked was back at the dealer, obviously upset. The dealer, instantly wary, immediately went on the defensive. His look changed, from a small Latino to a lanky, scruffy-looking blonde. He started to move away. “He’s leaving!” I stood up suddenly, unsure of what to do. “Can you follow him?” I knew Darren wasn’t talking about physically. “Yes, but not without some way of occupying my body in case it takes more than half a minute to tail him outside.” “No problem.” In an instant Darren’s arms were wrapped around me. He gently pulled me into his embrace and brought our lips together. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to dissolve against him. Kissing Darren O’Connell! Some disguise. Then again, it was a pretty good reason for me to be short of breath, so I forced myself to ignore the pleasurable sensations and pushed myself out of my body. Holy shit, he was hot. I felt a tug in my abdomen that meant my spirit really, really wanted to return and get some of that, but I had a drug dealer to track down first. I turned away and walked straight through the crowd, leaving a brief chill in the people I passed through. Fairy dust, cocaine, pot and booze were the most obvious drugs. Red blossoms of pain, simmering white pleasure and bright green fear all lit up people’s spirits like Christmas to my sight. I followed the dealer, ignoring my own growing lightheadedness. Why was he moving so slowly? How long was it to the back door of this place? It was getting harder and harder to resist the pull of my body. Finally he stepped outside. A car was sitting there with a driver inside of it, and he stepped into it without a word. I stuck around just long enough to get the license plate numbers, then slammed back into my body with a sudden shuddering intake of breath. Darren stopped kissing me, but held me just as close as spots swam across my vision. “Andi?” His voice was trembling slightly, like he was afraid, or maybe…aroused. “Are you all right?” One hand cupped my cheek. “Andi? Say something, baby.” “Five nine nine, jay-el-are.” “What?” “The license plate,” I said hoarsely. “The license plate number. It was a white Cadillac. Call it in to Ramy and Johnson, maybe they can follow it.” Darren did so, briskly, then turned back to me. “You’re spent.” “Yeah.” I was, too. Not enough sleep coupled with too long spent outside my body left me dizzy and ill. I didn’t want to accept any more of Darren’s help, but I couldn’t quite push his supporting arm away. “We should go.” 16

“Yeah. This place is tapped for the night.” We walked outside and back to his car. The night air was cool and revived me some. We got inside and he started up the engine. “Take me to the station, I want to check the license number.” “Just call it in, Andi,” he replied, merging into the late night traffic. “You should be in bed.” “I’m not made of glass, Darren,” I said, annoyed. “And all my things are at the station. I need to get them back before I go home.” “So go home with me. I’ll take you by to get your stuff in the morning.” Oh no. No way. “I am not staying with you,” I replied hotly. “I’m not some fucking bimbo that you can caress into complaisance with one kiss. This is my work, my investigation and you’re not going to steal my initiative.” “It’s just a polite offer, Andi,” he insisted, but I could hear that he was offended. “I’m not coming on to you. I’m just trying to look out for you.” “Like you looked out for me before? Yeah, that worked out great. No thanks,” I laughed bitterly. His kiss had unnerved me, and things I shouldn’t have said began to flow out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I’ve had enough of your help, Detective O’Connell. We live in two different worlds now, and it’s no good pretending there’s any sort of bridge between them. I worked hard for everything I’ve accomplished and I managed it all without selling my soul, so excuse me if I don’t fall into the category of bed warmer in order for you to get ahead.” The car went completely silent. Darren didn’t say a thing, his lips tightly compressed. I immediately started feeling guilty, and I couldn’t rationalize my way out of it. We got to the station ten minutes later. Darren put the car in park but didn’t turn it off. “I’ll get the compound analyzed,” he said finally, not looking at me. “And I’ll let Jack know this won’t be working out.” He finally met my eyes. I didn’t know what emotion I saw there, and I’m glad my spirit wasn’t out to show me. “Goodnight, Detective Haney.” I didn’t say anything. I just got out of the car, feeling red from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes. He drove away and I watched him go, and the guilt bit deeper. The car was a dead end, owned by a rental company that was too lax with its record keeping to be helpful. Ramy and Johnson hadn’t been able to tail the vehicle. Only one person had gotten something useful out of this damn night, and I’d gone and ostracized him as soon as my composure broke. I felt lower than dirt. Darren didn’t deserve what I’d said to him, despite our history, but I didn’t know how to apologize. I’d spent so much of the past five years focusing on my anger that I hadn’t had much time to analyze the rest of my feelings. 17

Again, I barely slept. I dragged myself to the station on Saturday and tried to work, but it was a losing battle. Halfway through the day I flopped down on the couch in the break room and ended up falling asleep. The next thing I knew Ramy was shaking my shoulder gently, his face concerned. “You okay, Andrea?” “Hmm? Yeah.” I glanced around, then down at myself. “Shit, shit, I can’t believe it.” I wiped one hand across my face. “I’m sorry, I just…give me a few minutes and I’ll get ready to go.” “Why don’t you take it easy tonight, Andrea?” “What?” I shook my head slightly. “No, I can’t. I already skipped detail on Thursday.” “You’re burning out, kid.” I wasn’t that much younger than Ramy, but the compassion in his voice took the sting out of his words. “You’re going to kill yourself over this if you aren’t careful. I know how important it is that we get these bastards locked up, but you’re a risk to yourself and the people around you when you try to work on empty. Kristen’s all lined up to watch tonight.” Kristen had a minor psychic talent, and she’d run backup for me several times. “We’ll pick up fresh on Monday, okay?” “Why Monday?” I asked. “’Cause Sunday’s my anniversary and the situation’s covered. Give your friend Darren time to figure out something about that stuff.” If I blanched, Ramy didn’t let on. He stood up and stretched. “I’m heading home. See you later.” Discreetly babied by three different people in forty-eight hours. I must be losing my touch. I sat there a while longer, staring blankly at the wall, then gathered my things and left the station. Ramy was right, I was burning out. Before Darren had gotten involved, I’d go weeks without a break at stakeout, and then right on into work in the morning. It couldn’t last. The phone was ringing when I got home. I lunged for it and answered just as my machine kicked in. “Hang on, hang on—” I shut the damn answering machine off. “Hello?” “Hello, Andrea.” “Moira!” Well, that was a surprise. “Hey, what’s up?” “Not much, honey. I just wanted to know if you’re free for brunch tomorrow morning. It’s been months since I’ve seen you.” It was true. The last time we’d gotten together was at her Christmas party. “Sure, I’d love to.” Moira was an amazing cook and wonderful company, just like her husband. “What can I bring?”

18

“How about some of your cinnamon rolls? Not that I need any cinnamon rolls, I’m trying to cut back, but yours just melt in my mouth.” I smiled into the phone, the first one to crack my face in what felt like forever. “Sure. What time do you want me there?” “Oh, mid-morning. Ten thirty or eleven, whatever works best for you. Bring enough for six, I’m having some work friends over as well.” “Sounds good.” I really was looking forward to seeing her. Moira reminded me of my mother, gone for years now. She was tall but rounded, with short, graying brown hair and bright blue eyes, and she gave the most amazing hugs. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Great, honey. See you then.” I hung up the phone, still smiling. Now at least I had a way to occupy my evening. I got out the things I’d need to make a pan full of cinnamon rolls, spritzing my orchid with a little water as I did. It was easy not to think as I mixed and rolled out the sweet pastry dough, sprinkled sugar and cinnamon and chopped pecans onto it, then doused the works with melted butter and stuck it in the oven. I stayed awake long enough to pull them out and drizzle honey over the top, then went back to my room and collapsed onto the bed. I was out within moments. I woke up at eight the next morning, plenty of time to putter around before I needed to be at Jack and Moira’s. I showered, dressed, and I cut the cinnamon rolls. I changed my mind and put on a different outfit, then I did it again…then I sat down and sighed. I had to apologize to Darren. I had to. Guilt would drive me crazy if I didn’t, and the longer I thought about it, the clearer it became that he really would be a huge help on this case. Hell, he already had been, he’d managed to preserve some of the drug. He had been a little overbearing, but that was just his way. Just like I could be a bitch without even thinking about it. The only question now was how to apologize. I thought about calling him, but that was too impersonal. I could go by his place, but there was no guarantee he’d let me in. Finally ten o’clock rolled around and I shelved the problem for a while. Right now, I had a brunch to attend. Jack and Moira lived out in the suburbs, in a quaint little house built in the fifties. They had never managed to have children, which I think was part of the reason they’d adopted a stray like me when I first got here. The house had a comfy, lived-in feeling. I never felt out of place when I went there or afraid of breaking some precious antique. They had a big backyard too, and the weather was perfect for enjoying it. I knocked on the screen door and Moira was there in an instant, wiping her hands on a dish towel and beaming at me. “Andrea!” She let me in and enveloped me in a warm, wonderful hug. “Sweetheart, it’s so good to see you. You look beautiful.” 19

I laughed. “You’re such a liar, Mo.” “Honey, if I had legs and an ass like yours, you wouldn’t hear me complaining,” she told me archly as we walked into the kitchen. “And I never will have a figure like yours if these cinnamon rolls are as good as they usually are.” “Same old recipe. Should I put it on the table?” “We’re eating outside today, You can take them out there. You want a mimosa?” She handed me a champagne glass and filled it up before I could reply. “Jack’s out back grilling the sausages, and the other guests are sitting there as well. I’ll bring the eggs out in a moment. Could you take these serving spoons, too?” “Okay.” I walked through the back door, balancing my offering, my glass and the spoons awkwardly as I made my way to the table. Jack waved at me, but I didn’t look close at the people sitting under the umbrella until I was within five feet of the table. By then it was too late to turn around. There was an amazingly beautiful blond woman reclining in one of the deck chairs. Her hair flowed like liquid gold over her shoulders and across her breasts, and she had the healthy glow of someone who went straight from pale to tanned without burning. A dark-haired man sat to her left, his hand resting on top of hers. Husband, maybe? I didn’t recognize either of them, but I did recognize the fourth person. Darren looked as gorgeous as ever, in a perfectly pressed white linen shirt and khaki shorts, but there was something stiff about his posture, and his eyes looked slightly bruised. He stiffened even further when he saw me. They’d all turned to look at me as I approached, and I knew I couldn’t just stand there with my mouth gaping like a landed fish. I was so going to take Jack and Moira to task for this. I walked forward, set the cinnamon rolls and serving spoons on the already-crowded table, and forced a smile. “Good morning.” “Good morning, Andrea,” Jack said conversationally. “Glad you could make it today. Have you ever met Liane before?” “No.” Although as soon as I saw them together I knew who she had to be. Darren shook himself out of his surprised reverie and made the introduction. “Andrea, this is my older sister Liane Fitzpatrick. This is her husband, Henry Fitzpatrick.” We duly shook hands. “Guys, this is Andrea Haney.” I could see a flash if interest in his sister’s face, but she controlled it. “Nice to meet you, Miss Haney.” “Andrea, please,” I insisted as I gingerly took a seat. I felt like I was wound so tight I might explode at any second, and sipped at my mimosa to help mask my discomfort. “Ooh, cinnamon rolls.” Jack looked appreciatively at my offering. “My favorite.” “Moira requested them.”

20

“My wife has excellent taste.” “That’s true,” Liane said with a slight laugh. “I’m always jealous of the lunches she brings in to work. I can’t get food that good at any of the restaurants closest to the hospital.” “You work with Moira?” I asked, then felt like slapping myself for the obviousness of the question. She didn’t seem to care, however. “Yeah, we’re both at South Med. Usually I’m an emergency room physician, but lately all my time has been taken up rehabbing those drug users.” She shook her head tiredly. “Some of them just aren’t going to come out of it, no matter what I do. It’s hard to make the people in charge realize that my gift can’t heal everything.” She smiled at her brother. “You did a smart thing going in a different direction, Darren. Although I have to say I’m kind of surprised you didn’t become a botanist.” His shoulders twitched in a shrug. “Not much need, when there are real druids out there willing to do the work, and do it better. It makes a better hobby than a profession, I think.” “You’re so modest. You two work together, right?” She turned back to me. “Have you ever seen any of his roses? They’re amazing, the biggest blooms I’ve ever seen.” “Not his roses, no,” I managed. “Henry, what do you do?” I was desperate to change the subject, but he looked pleased to be asked and started talking to me about computer programming. Moira joined us a few minutes later with scrambled eggs mixed with goat cheese, chives and sautéed onions. Jack passed around sausages and we tucked into the food. It was delicious, all of it, but my appetite wasn’t what it should have been. I picked more than ate, and Darren seemed a little reticent as well. Henry and Jack more than made up for our loss, though, and by the time we started in on the cinnamon rolls Jack was on his third plate. “These are amazing,” Henry complimented me after his first bite. “Seriously good. You should sell these.” “Thanks.” I nibbled at my own, finally giving in and taking a good-sized bite. I did love my cinnamon rolls. “Jack mentioned that you’re the officer in charge of the fairy dust case,” Liane said. “It’s good this stuff is getting taken so seriously. With you and my brother working at it, I bet you’ll crack it soon. I’m glad you’re working together. It makes me feel better when Darren isn’t left to his own devices.” She winked playfully at her brother Darren frowned and cleared his throat. “Actually—” 21

“I’m glad we are too,” I interrupted. “I’m very lucky to have someone with Darren’s expertise working the case with me. He’s been a huge help so far.” I avoided looking at him as I said this, but I knew he was surprised. I hoped our audience didn’t catch on. “Can I take some plates in?” I stood up and grabbed my own, then the closest empty platter. “Honey, you can leave those to me.” “No way, Moira. Not after you did all the work getting things ready. I’ll be back out in a moment, as soon as I load them into the dishwasher.” I grabbed a few more things and walked back inside, hoping my retreat didn’t come off as, well…a retreat. Once inside I sighed hugely, set the plates on the table and leaned over it for a long moment. “Ahem.” I spun around so fast I almost lost my balance. Darren was standing in the doorway, a couple champagne glasses dangling from one hand. “I came back for some refills,” he said quietly. “Oh.” The silence between us grew longer, and I knew I’d have to make the first move. “Darren…I…” I closed my eyes for a moment, then looked back into his wary gaze. “I’m sorry. I’ve been really, really bad to you since this began, and I shouldn’t have acted that way. It’s unprofessional and rude and just wrong. Please keep helping me with this case.” He didn’t say anything for a moment, then stepped further into the room and closed the sliding glass door behind him. We were as alone as we could be. “I’m sorry as well,” he said seriously. “For making you uncomfortable. For making you feel like I was taking advantage of you.” He looked down at the floor. “Will my apologies ever be enough, Andi?” I knew he was talking about more than this moment. My throat tightened and I couldn’t answer him. After a second he went on. “Everything that happened between us…it’s been killing me.” He shook his head slowly. “The memory of what I did to you is like a knife in my chest, and every time I think about you it stabs deeper. I made a bad call, Andi. A really fucking miserable call, and I regretted it as soon as I made it. I was…” He shrugged helplessly. “I was wrong, for a lot of reasons. I never blamed you for not forgiving me then, and I understand if you still can’t forgive me now, but I have to know if there’s any chance. I’ll do anything to get back in your good graces, and if that’s impossible then I’ll do my best to help you solve this case and then get out of your life. What do you want?” My eyes were blurred with tears and I was clutching the edge of the table with both hands. Could I really do it? Could I let go of all the pain and grief that had been choking me for what felt like forever? I had the chance to begin now, but it wasn’t easy to let go of the habits of years, even when they were bad ones.

22

Darren stretched his free hand towards me, his face etched with concern. “Andi?” To hell with it. I was tired of living in a shell, and I didn’t want to hurt any more. I didn’t want to hurt him anymore. My throat was still too tight to speak, but I reached out and took his hand. The feel of his skin, so warm and soft, broke something inside of me and I started crying then, ducking my head down and pressing my free hand to my mouth to muffle the noise. Darren didn’t hesitate. He set the empty glasses down and moved in close to me, taking me gently into his arms. It wasn’t possessive, it wasn’t demanding. He was just holding me, and it felt incredible. I couldn’t stop crying, though. I turned my face into his shoulder and promptly soaked his beautiful linen shirt, but he didn’t seem to care. He cradled me to him, making soothing noises and stroking my back. His body was like a furnace, warming me through and stopping my shivering, emotion-wracked tremors before they had a chance to really get going. After a few minutes I calmed down enough to realize that the people outside were probably wondering what the hell had happened to us, and I reluctantly pulled away from Darren’s embrace. “God, I bet I look awful.” I plucked a little at his damp shirt. “Sorry about dousing you.” “I don’t care,” he said sincerely, his blue eyes soft as he looked at me. “And you’re beautiful.” I chuckled. “Yeah, right.” Suddenly the sliding door opened. Moira was there, carrying a load of dishes and looking worried. “Everything okay, honey?” “Yes,” I said, managing to smile. Actually, it felt easy to smile. “Fine. Here, let me put those away.” I took the pile from her, set it down and opened up the dishwasher. “I’ll be out again as soon as I’m done, I promise.” “If you say so, hon. Darren, your sister’s getting thirsty.” “I’m on my way,” he said easily. Moira cast a wary eye over the two of us, then turned and left. Darren refilled the glasses, but he never looked away from me. “I’ll join you guys in a minute. I’d rather not go out there looking like I was just on a crying jag.” “May I help?” “Sure, you can try.” Not the most confident response, but Darren stepped close and cupped my face between his hands. His eyes met mine, and I dissolved into his soothing gaze. So warm, so relaxing, calming…the dampness on my face seemed to slip away, and the heat receded, spreading across my entire head and dissipating fast. After a moment, he let go and smiled at me. 23

“Feel better?” “Yes.” I touched my face tentatively. My skin was dry and felt normal, not flushed or red. “How did you do that?” “I’m good at moving water around,” he replied, brushing a hand down his shirt. “How do you think I coaxed that orchid to grow so fast? Did you throw it away?” “The orchid?” He nodded. “No, it’s on my counter at home. I thought about tossing it, but I just couldn’t.” “I’m glad.” He touched my shoulder briefly, then grabbed the glasses. “I should be getting back out there.” “Your shirt’s dry,” I noticed suddenly. “Yeah, I save a ton on dry cleaning bills.” Darren grinned and left the kitchen. The rest of the morning passed without incident. I felt like a huge weight had been taken off my shoulders, and Darren was livelier as well, playful even. His sister clearly noticed the change but didn’t say anything, for which I was grateful. I wasn’t ready to answer any questions about myself and Darren, mostly because I didn’t know any of the answers. I wanted to forgive him. I was forgiving him. The process had begun, and I knew he was forgiving me too, for all my hurtful words and actions. We had five years of bad history between us and it would take more than a morning together to repair our relationship, but it was a start. We stayed for several more hours, all of us chatting and laughing like we had known each other for years. I guess most of us had, it was just Darren’s family I’d never met before. He’d been reticent to talk about them when we were together, and with a family so famous that was understandable. He had a lot more self confidence now, and I liked Liane and Henry. Eventually Liane had to call it quits, though. “The babysitter awaits,” she said regretfully as she pushed back her chair. “Jenny will be fine but little Darren just turned two and is quite a handful.” “Little Darren?” I glanced over at the blushing uncle. “You named him after Dare?” “Yeah.” Liane grinned impishly. “And don’t let his embarrassment fool you, he’s pleased as punch to have a namesake.” “I never said I was embarrassed!” Darren protested. “Sure you’re not.” She accepted her light jacket from her husband and kissed his cheek, then turned back to her brother. “Coming?” “Yeah,” he replied, but I could tell that he didn’t want to leave yet. And honestly, I didn’t want him to go either. “I can give him a lift,” I volunteered. “His place is on the way.” 24

Liane’s eyes were full of questions, but she resisted asking any of them. “Sounds good. Moira, Jack, thanks so much for having us. Everything was wonderful. Andrea, it was lovely to meet you.” I stood up and held out my hand, but she pulled me into a hug instead. I inhaled the scent of her perfume and realized it was the same as the one I’d smelled in Darren’s car two days ago. Not some girlfriend, then. “Take care of my brother,” she murmured. “I will,” I promised. She let me go to embrace Darren and I shook Henry’s hand, and then they left the garden. We stayed with Jack and Moira until it started to get dark, just like old times for a little while. Moira cast me a few concerned looks, and around the time the mosquitoes really came out she took Darren aside, leaving me alone with Jack. “So,” I drawled, nicely relaxed from the heat, good food and mimosas, “Whose brilliant idea was this, yours or Moira’s?” “Mine,” he said unabashedly, stretching out in his chair. “Moira always liked Darren but she wasn’t really willing to give him the time of day, not after what happened with you. She likes his sister, though, and I thought it was worth a try getting all of you together and seeing if you could make it through a day without killing each other.” He smirked at me. “Looks like I was right.” “You could just as easily have been wrong,” I reminded him. “Then all the pain and angst I suffered would have landed squarely on your shoulders.” “I’ll take reality over your imaginary angst any day,” he said. “You two needed time together away from work, to see if the work could even happen. I know about your little incident the other night, Andi. Hopefully now you can shelve some of your issues and grab this damn sorcerer before he kills more people.” “Jeez.” I shook my head. “You and your logic, Jack. Seriously, though,” I reached out and grabbed his hand for a moment, “thanks. I don’t understand how you know me better than myself sometimes, but thanks.” “Quit it. You’ll make me blush,” he grumbled. “Then Moira will think I’m having a heart attack and rush me to her damn hospital. Spare me that.” “Anything but that,” I agreed. Moira and Darren were headed back our way, and I glanced at my watch. “Shit, it’s almost eight o’clock. I’ve got to get home, I have work to do.” “Do it tomorrow,” Jack advised me. “Your boss will understand.” I grinned at him. “Will he understand giving me a month of paid vacation after I finish this case?” “He’s not that understanding.” I chuckled a little, then stood up and turned to Darren. “We should get going, Dare.” 25

“Sure.” He turned and hugged Moira. “Thanks for everything.” “You’re welcome, dear.” She then came over and shared the love with me. “Be careful on this one, all right honey? It sounds pretty bad.” “We’ll figure it out,” I told her. “See you soon, Mo.” I grabbed my empty pan of cinnamon rolls and we headed for my car. Darren looked a little bemused. I waited until he was in the Beetle before asking, “What did you guys talk about?” “Hmm? Oh.” He smiled a little, but it was pained. “You, mostly. And how Moira will make me suffer if I hurt you again.” “Really?” “Yeah.” “Huh.” I thought about it for a moment, then grinned. “I like having everyone on my side for once.” “Those two will always be on your side, Andi. You’re the daughter they never had.” “They’re good people,” I said softly. We drove in silence until I reached his building. “Well. Umm…” I knew that now was the time for the night to end, before we did something to ruin what had been an unexpectedly good day, but I didn’t want it to end. “Can I make you some coffee?” Darren smiled over at me, easier now that he wasn’t stinging so badly from Moira’s reproofs. “It’s not cinnamon soy, but it’s half decent. Just coffee, I promise,” he added. “I won’t try anything.” “Darn.” I parked the car and got out before Darren could do more than raise his eyebrows. “Fine, coffee. Decaf.” “Decaf?” Darren asked as he shut the door. “What’s the point then?” “The point is I can’t spend another sleepless night and expect to be able to function at work tomorrow.” “Really?” Darren held the front door to his building open for me and we walked inside. “What’s been keeping you awake?” I didn’t answer, distracted by the sumptuous foyer of his building. Appearances showed this to be one of the classier apartment complexes downtown had to offer. The marble floor gleamed a soft white, reflected in the bronze furnishings. The security guard behind the desk on the right smiled at us as we walked to the elevator. The opulence wasn’t quite overwhelming, but it definitely contrasted with my own home. Darren didn’t speak again until we were in the elevator. “I inherited the place from my grandfather.” “Oh.” 26

“Yes, ‘oh’. I still get paid like a detective, Andi. Detectives don’t make this kind of money.” “I know that much.” We exited on his floor, the highest in the building, and walked to his apartment. He let me inside, and I stepped into a tropical paradise. Huge, fan-like ferns covered the walls, resting in giant ceramic pots. Slender vines hung from the ceiling and orchids dotted most of the flat surfaces. It was slightly damp, and the air felt full of life. I turned to Darren in astonishment. “You couldn’t do this before.” “No.” I could hear the pride in his voice as he looked around his place. “It took me a long time to learn enough control to grow these and keep them all alive. My water bill is huge. This isn’t the best part, though. Come out to the balcony.” He reached for my hand, and unthinking, I gave it to him. His warm fingers wrapped around mine and when I looked at his face, his smile was nearly enough to stop my heart: sweet, sexy and heated. He turned away and drew me towards the far side of the living room, to two tall frosted-glass doors. Opening one, we walked out into the warm, muggy night air. My breath caught in my throat. Thick vines covered the walls and railings, and each vine burst with roses. Velvety red roses, spanning the spectrum from nearly pink to so dark they appeared black in the dim light, filled the air with the sweetest smell I could imagine. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, letting their essence flow into me. It was heady and rejuvenating, and when I opened my eyes again, I grinned helplessly. “They’re amazing,” I murmured, speaking softly. There was no real reason to whisper, but I felt like I was in a sacred place. “Come over here,” Darren murmured, tugging me towards the nearest flowerfilled wall. “I want to do something for you.” He turned me so that my back was nearly touching the vines, then posted his arms to either side of me, framing my shoulders. I looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he chuckled. “I’ll be good, I promise. Just close your eyes.” He closed his first, and I copied him. Then I felt it. Velvet traced my limbs, from the base of my calf along my thighs and up my arms. Soft, pungent satin brushed the base of my spine and the sensitive skin along my neck. I gasped and trembled a little. These roses had thorns…but none of them touched me. It was all softness, all sweetness, feather-light touches that caressed my body and left a quivering, heated trail in their wake. Petals curled around my face, drifting across my cheeks until one heavy, slightly-furled bud traced the edge of my lips. I couldn’t help the moan that escaped me, and the answering one from Darren startled me enough that my eyes flew open. He stood braced against the wall, eyes closed and face sweating. He was concentrating intently, his mouth hanging open. I could feel the heat of his breath on my face, and when he suddenly opened his own eyes the blue was vivid and brighter than it should have been. He gazed at me, almost gasping, and I felt the force of his effort quiver in a thousand petals. 27

“Oh, Dare.” I didn’t even realize I was speaking, it just came out. The words broke the spell, and the roses slowly began to withdraw from my body. Darren closed his eyes and shuddered briefly, then straightened up and removed his arms. “I think you should go now, Andi.” “Why?” How could he send me home now? “Because if you stay, I won’t be able to be good.” He swallowed. “I want you too much, and it’s been too long since we…there’s too much between us still. We have time now, and I want it to be…perfect.” He stepped back, giving me more space. I understood. I wasn’t necessarily happy with him turning all responsible just when I wanted him, but I knew why he was doing it. It was a chance for him to prove himself, somehow, and we were going pretty damn fast. “Okay.” I smiled a little shakily. “I’ll pass on the coffee for now. You can bring me something tomorrow.” “A cinnamon-soy latte?” “Perfect.” I edged past him, stroking one of his wrists as I went. My legs could barely hold me. I definitely needed to go. “Andi?” I turned back towards him. He held a rose in his hand, the same rose that had brushed my lips like a lover’s kiss. He extended it towards me. “A little souvenir,” he said with a grin. “Since clearly it wasn’t memorable at all,” I replied archly. “Thanks.” I took the rose, our fingers brushing, and then I walked out. Out of his apartment, out of his building but not, hopefully, out of his life this time. The rose filled my car with its sweet scent. It was a continual distraction, and I was a little surprised I made it home without damaging my car. My legs still felt shaky and my mind was filled with the image of Darren leaning into me, flushed with exertion, gorgeous and breathless and wanting me...fuck, I needed to get off. I grabbed the rose and empty pan, almost running into my apartment. I threw the pan into the sink, stripped out of my clothes and landed on my bed in under a minute. I held the rosebud to my face, brushing it over my eyelids and nose and my wet, swollen lips. My free hand traced my body, tracing the same path the roses had touched, feathering over my skin in an attempt to rekindle the fire that burned me in Darren’s presence. It worked. The scent of the rose, the softness of the bed and the feel of my own fingers worked me into a blaze, overflowing with desire. I wanted Darren. I wanted him in my arms and between my thighs and arching into my body, moaning my name as he thrust into me again and again, loving me until I was delirious. I stroked the rosebud down my body, circling my nipples with its smoothness before delving lower, into my bellybutton and down, over my curls and then against my clitoris, a gentle yet insistent pressure. 28

I moaned, the heat of my body coaxing more scent from the petals and filling me with its sweetness. My free hand plunged into my pussy, mimicking his thrusts as I envisioned him, lips as soft as the petals were now, kissing me there as he fingered me, absorbed in my pleasure and swearing he was mine, that he loved me, that he wanted me to come for him… I fell over the edge, tightening around my hand and crushing the rose between my thighs as I came, gasping and calling Darren’s name. I felt no guilt, no remorse, nothing but sweet longing and satisfaction as I cried out for him, stroking myself gently as I rode out my orgasm. Tiny starbursts faded from behind my eyelids as I slowly calmed down. I set the much-abused rose on the pillow next to me and slowly stood, making my way to the bathroom to clean up. I fell asleep completely satisfied and happier than I could remember being. When I woke up the next morning, I saw that the petals had fallen from the stem of the rose, and covered the pillowcase and sheet. I smiled with the realization that I had exhausted the poor thing. It was good that Darren and I’d had some time to reconnect because nothing else that week was going right, and by Wednesday, everyone in the task force was on edge. Five more people had overdosed on the drug and one of them had died. The mayor was laying some serious pressure on the unit, and Jack in turn had to lay more pressure on us. The final thread broke when the press found out that the latest person to die was a sixteen year old boy. “The feds are clamoring to come in,” Jack said tiredly on Thursday morning. He hadn’t slept for the past thirty hours. None of us had. Darren and I had hit the clubs consecutively for the past three nights, but it fast became apparent that the dealers were onto us. Not necessarily us, because I didn’t think they recognized us, but onto the fact that someone was watching them. Instead of a single dealer, two or three would be stationed on the floor. With their appearances changing even faster and only one of them handing out any of the drug, it was harder and harder to get a read on them. I’d almost blacked out from the effort the previous evening, and a dull, throbbing headache still drummed through my brain. Darren silently moved behind me and stroked the back of my neck. The throbbing eased and I sighed with relief. “We have until tomorrow to wrap this up, otherwise we lose jurisdiction and the department gets a black eye we won’t be forgetting anytime soon.” In other words, smaller budget, fewer officers and no prospect of moving higher in the ranks. Lovely. “We’ll send both teams out tonight. We need something solid, people. We need to make an arrest, we need to find the source. We need the manufacturer. Otherwise more people are going to get hurt and we won’t be able to do anything about it because we’ll be under the federal heel.” Jack had some strong feelings about jurisdiction. “Dismissed.” I walked back to my desk and sat dejectedly. “I don’t know what to change,” I confessed quietly to Darren, who sat down beside me. “I can’t keep track of them well 29

enough. I can’t follow them when they leave, and even if I could there’s no way I could stay out of my body long enough to follow one back to the source.” “I was thinking about that.” Darren looked at me seriously. “Can you track by blood?” “By blood?” That wasn’t the question I expected from a healer. Blood magic was powerful, but also highly restricted. It delved too quickly into black arts for mainstream society to be comfortable. I had learned to work with it, but it wasn’t my favorite thing to do. “Yes.” “If I got you a sample of a dealer’s blood, do you think you could follow it without making eye contact with the individual?” “If I start following fast enough and have a decent idea of where they’ll be. What are you thinking, Dare?” “I’m thinking that I go into the club, get you a blood sample and then call in the regulars. The dealer books it, you follow him and once he gets back to home base, you come back to your body and lead us there.” I shook my head. “It won’t work. I can’t follow them from the clubs to wherever their base is without having to return to my body, it’s too exhausting. And I’d collapse in the club if I tried.” “I’ll go into the club alone,” he clarified. “You stay in the car. We’ll run the a/c, lay you back, play soothing music, whatever it takes to relax you. I’ve got a great memory and some of these guys have used the same disguise more than once, I’ll spot one of them. When I get back with the blood, I’ll keep your body from freaking out while you track down the dealers. I can keep you healthy for probably five minutes without you having to return.” “Healthy?” Darren shrugged uncomfortably. “Without permanent damage. I can’t promise it will be painless, but I swear I won’t let you get hurt.” He grimaced. “It’s a shit plan, but I don’t know what else we can do. People are dying, and…” “I understand.” And I did. I knew it was hard for him to bring up, too. “Let’s do it. Which place do you want to hit?” “I look best in black.” I rolled my eyes at him. “The Tomb it is, then. Is there anything I should do to get ready? I don’t know, meditate or something?” Darren smiled at me, a tired but genuinely amused smile. “I can’t picture you meditating. I think that would just piss you off. Just do what you normally do, then go home and relax. I’ll come get you at nine.” “It’s a date.”

30

“No, it’s not. When I take you on a real date there will be dinner, dancing, flowers, champagne and a gigantic chocolate dessert.” He grinned. “I’ve got it all planned out.” “Apparently.” I wanted to feel a little pissed about him planning everything before he’d even bothered to ask me on a date, but I couldn’t summon up any indignation. “What kind of chocolate dessert?” “The decadent kind,” he promised me, leaning in closer. “Rivers of molten chocolate. Bourbon. Flames. Ganache. The works.” My mouth was watering. “Sounds good,” I managed. “I know. Now picture it in bed.” I did. “Flames in bed isn’t smart, Darren.” “I’ll be very careful,” he murmured in my ear, “when I lick it off of you.” Then he got up and walked away. I watched him go and rubbed my thighs together unconsciously. Holy shit. That sounded like a great dessert. I got off work at six, made sure Ramy and Johnson knew what was going on and headed home to get ready. I soaked, I had a glass of wine, I propped my feet up… It was no good. I ended up pacing back and forth in my living room, waiting impatiently for nine o’clock to arrive. I was anxious about tonight, about it being our last chance. We had to get something. I wouldn’t have risked this under many other circumstances. Two minutes…two minutes before I fainted under normal conditions. Dare thought he could extend it to five. I knew that pearl divers could stay under for that amount of time and longer, but I wasn’t a pearl diver, and I was going to be straining the whole time I was under, using my magic to find the dealer and track him. When Darren finally arrived, I was a walking bundle of nerves. “Finally!” I exploded when I opened the door. “You didn’t try meditating, did you?” “No, smart ass,” I growled as I stepped outside and locked my door, “I’m just going insane waiting. Let’s get this done.” “As you wish.” Darren looked amazing, as usual. He was a walking poster boy for the undead, paling his skin with powder and coating his eyelashes and eyebrows in black. A dark red rose was stuck through one of the gaps in his net shirt. We walked down to his mega-car and got in. It was already cool inside. “How are you planning on getting his blood, anyway?” I asked as we pulled out into the street. “I’ll use the rose.”

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I tried to picture it in my mind. No luck. “By giving it to him, forcing his had around a thorn and then taking it back?” “No. I’m going to grow the stem around my arm and make the thorns larger. Once I identify the dealer, I’ll just walk by. All I need to do is scratch him. It’s practically a mosh pit in there, he won’t even notice me.” “You better hope he isn’t gay, because otherwise he will definitely notice you.” “It comes with the territory,” Darren said with an easy grin. “And guys are so much more straightforward than girls. They make for great dates.” I punched his shoulder and he laughed. We made it to The Tomb by nine fifteen. Darren showed me how to recline the seat—some electronic switch that my car had never even dreamed about, poor baby— and turned the air conditioning to high. “It’ll get cold. Let it. Close your eyes, slow your breathing, and get ready.” “Go scratch your boyfriend already, Dare.” “That’s my girl.” He left the car, locked it, and walked to the club. I settled back onto the leather seat, trying to relax. Blood magic. I’d have to run to catch the taint of it in time to follow it. My spirit form could move much more quickly than my normal body, but it took extra effort. I lay there and connected to every part of my body, then to my spirit, infusing it with strength. The car got colder. I was going to start shivering soon. Darren came back after about a half hour. “Got it,” he said with grim satisfaction. I glanced drowsily over at his hand, then blinked. He had created a thorn gauntlet out of the damn thing. “You could start a new trend,” I murmured. “Just rest, Andi. Hang on. Ramy is already on his way inside.” Darren listened intently to his earpiece for a moment. “He’ll be through in a minute. Here, get a feel for the blood.” He thrust his arm towards me. I pushed my spirit towards the rose, not entirely leaving my body but hovering half-in, half-out. I saw Darren’s spirit, bright with energy and life. The rose, dying slowly now that it was cut. And on top of it…the blood energy was like a fingerprint, like a scent. I brought it into myself, though it disgusted me, and prepared to follow. “Now!” Ramy must have broken up the party. The dealers would be fleeing. Taking a last deep breath, I pushed my spirit up and out of my body. The insistent pull between them ebbed as Darren put his hands on me, and made leaving easier. I sped into the club, through walls and crowds, ignoring everything except the blood trail. There it was, hovering in the air and on the floor. So many people were bleeding something, but I followed the dealer’s trail. Out back…there, getting into a car. Dark green sedan, license number…it didn’t matter, I couldn’t report it yet anyway. I started to trail the car. My body was tugging at me, but it was a distant, disconnected thing. I stayed focused on the car. They drove fast, managing to miss red lights and heading towards 32

the pier. The tugging was getting worse. I followed, past the residences and to the pier itself. Down onto the docks…the pulling was tearing at my mind now, screaming at me to return. I waited, following, following them to a dock with a small warehouse adjacent to it, and inside the warehouse… It was too much. A horrible tearing pain suddenly erupted through my spirit, catapulting me back into my body. I slammed back into the seat and gasped, shuddering uncontrollably. Darren’s arms were around me, and his face was white. “I couldn’t block it any longer, you were gone too long,” he said, stroking sweaty hair out of my face. “Deep breaths, baby. Deep breaths. Slow it down, sweetheart, you’ll be all right.” I didn’t have time to slow things down. “They’re moving!” I said between heaving breaths. “Changing…locations. Have to get there…now, before it’s gone.” “Get where?” I gave him the address of the warehouse as best as I remembered it and Darren radioed it in, then started the car. “We’ve got to get to the scene, Andi.” He passed me an open bottle of water. “Drink this, it’ll help.” Drink? How could I drink when I couldn’t even catch my breath? I tilted the chair up slowly, hit hard by the pounding headache that blurred my vision. I sipped, then gagged. “I’m sorry, baby.” Soothing fingers touched my temple and lessened the headache enough to get rid of the nausea. “You were gone for over six minutes, and I didn’t have time to help you back gently. I had to release my hold on your body or you were going to be damaged.” “I understand,” I whispered. “When we get there, you stay in the car. I’ll—” “No.” No, there would be no more repeats of the past. “We’re going in together.” “Andi, you’re ill. You need to rest.” “I won’t get any rest with you going alone into that place. I’m coming with you. When Ramy and Johnson join us, I’ll step aside.” “Can you even hold a gun right now?” Darren demanded anxiously. “I’ll manage.” “Andi…” His voice just trailed off, taking whatever objections he had with it, I hoped. Besides, my head was feeling better. Instead of seeing triples of everything I was down to doubles, and I could nearly count my heartbeats again. Darren didn’t say anything else to me, he just drove and occasionally touched my temple or shoulder, carrying pain away. By the time we got to the docks, I felt nearly normal. I could hear sirens in the distance as we exited the car. Ramy and Johnson were coming. But if we could hear them, so could the men inside the warehouse, and the 33

drug was probably melting away even now. “We have to go in,” I muttered. “Now, before the evidence is gone. There were only three when I saw them earlier.” “And only two of us.” Darren looked sidelong at me, silently evaluating, and then nodded. “I’ll go first.” “Fine.” We moved slowly to the warehouse door, guns in hand. There were no windows to give us away, but the back of the place was open and we could hear them easily. Men cursing under their breath, references to “product,” the sound of tearing garbage bags. Darren glanced at me and I nodded. He squared off at the door, kicked it open and entered in a rush. I was right behind him, my head spinning a little. Darren shouted for them to stay still and we covered the three men. One was halfway out the back, carrying a full trash bag. The other two were loading more. Tables lined the walls, and on top of them were test tubes, alembics, unmarked vats of liquid and, of course, fairy dust. The place was packed with fairy dust. I recognized the dealer and his driver. The third man was slender, Latino-looking and staring at us with murder in his eyes. He had an aura of power about him and clearly was the man in control of the little group. I trained my gun on him. “Keep your hands where I can see them and lie down on the ground.” Hearing the steel tones come out of Darren’s mouth instantly dispelled his goth disguise. The dealer and the driver obeyed, moving slowly, but the third man, the sorcerer, didn’t move at all. “Get down,” Darren growled, his gaze narrowing. “I won’t ask you again.” The wail of sirens was growing louder and louder. I blinked my eyes, wavering a little. It was so hot in the warehouse, such a tiny, hot little space. And I was so tired… The sorcerer’s eyes flicked to me, then back to Darren. With a twisted grin, he stretched his hand towards the fairy dust lining the table. Suddenly it began to dissolve, sliding into nothingness. “No!” Darren darted towards the table, extending his free hand to get a preservation spell up over some of the drugs before the evidence disappeared entirely. The sorcerer snatched a gun from his waistband and raised it towards Darren. Panic filled me and I squeezed off two shots at him, but one went wide and the second just grazed his shoulder. Fuck, I couldn’t even focus enough to hit a man at ten feet. My shots had the desired effect, though. The sorcerer turned his gun from Darren to me. He pulled the trigger just as the door flew open again. Chaos filled the room as the bullet tore into me, splitting my chest and knocking me onto my back. The pain was excruciating, but I couldn’t scream around all the blood welling up my throat and into my mouth. Sound, all around me. Sirens, people, gunshots. A man screamed. Was it Darren? I wanted to sit up and see, but I couldn’t move. My fingers twitched, but they weren’t under my command. I formed his name with my lips, my lungs fluttering and unresponsive but trying to breathe so I could call to him.

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Suddenly, he was right above me. Shock made his tanned skin look white. No, that was makeup…wasn’t it? Perhaps it was both. He was breathing fast, almost hyperventilating, and with my hearing getting fuzzy I could barely make him out. “No, no…” His hands were hot on my chest, ripping my shirt away and feeling the edges of the bullet wound. “Oh, fuck.” He shouted something to someone else, raising his head, and then looked back at me. One hand cupped my face; the other gently pressed the wound on my chest. “Stay with me, Andi.” I felt my flesh crawl under his fingertips, striving to obey his command to staunch the blood and preserve me long enough for an ambulance, a doctor, a miracle. My rapid heartbeats were fading, though, and my vision was going dark. I wished I could say something to him. Anything. Suddenly my spirit was out of my body. I had only been forced out once before, when I had drowned in that god-forsaken swamp. I was dying, then. I was dead. Darren made an ugly noise. It was low and guttural and desperate, and I was shocked to hear something that graceless emerge from him. He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering energy, and then released it into me like a shockwave. My heart stuttered. Instantly I was back in my body, looking up at Darren through filmy eyes. He was sweating, and long lines of mascara streaked down his face. “Stay with me, baby,” he begged, forcing more of his energy into me. It burned inside of me, channeling the power of growth into the ruin of my lungs, but I still couldn’t breathe. “Andi, stay!” I wanted to, God I wanted to, but I couldn’t. “Stay!” I couldn’t. I was forced out of my body. I watched his desperation turn into panicked fear, and then he lost control. Gathering every ounce of power he contained, Darren screamed, a primal, furious sound, and released it into my body. Suddenly I was back. I could breathe. Barely, but I could breathe. How was it even possible…I saw the horrible strain in Darren’s face and suddenly understood. He was breathing for me. He was living for me. He’d bound our spirits together and every beat of his heart powered mine, keeping my broken body intact at a terrible expense to his own. Someone put a hand on his shoulder, but he shook it off. “Stay,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving mine. “Stay.” “I’ll stay,” I mouthed to him. Shock had nearly banished the pain from my body, but he clearly felt it. He shook violently, every muscle taut with agony, but he never dropped his gaze. Not until the ambulance had come, not until we were at the hospital, not until his own sister broke the connection and left me to the care of three other healers. Then he collapsed. I reached for him, but before I could do more than straighten my arm, I was put to sleep. When I woke up next, I was so swathed in bandages I couldn’t move. Or maybe I just couldn’t move, period. I left my eyes closed for a bit, taking an internal inventory. Heart beating. Lungs working. Everything seemed to be in place, no matter how badly some of it hurt. At least I could feel it. Even the pain was muted, probably with 35

morphine. I opened my eyes and blinked, wincing at the brightness of the light. Someone dimmed the glow, and then a warm hand slipped into mine. “Andi.” “Hi,” I said, turning to look at him. I tried to say it, anyway. My mouth was dry. Darren put a straw to my lips and I sucked a little cool water into my mouth, swished it and swallowed. Then I looked at him. Bright blue eyes, wide smile, shining auburn hair…but he looked different now. There were dark stains beneath his eyes, evidence of sleepless nights. His smile was wide, but his lips were compressed with worry. And his hair…faint lines of silver traced their way back from his temples and disappeared into his ponytail. Holy shit. He didn’t have any gray hair the last time I looked at him. “How long was I out?” “Five days,” Darren replied, cupping my single hand in both of his and warming me to the bone. “The healers induced a coma. They worked on you for over twelve hours that first day, and you’ve been soaking up the magic ever since. You should eventually make a full recovery, but it’s going to be tough for a while.” “What happened?” “What do you remember?” he countered, his expression serious. “I remember…tracking the dealers. I remember going into the warehouse. I remember being shot…kind of. Then, not much.” “You remembered more than Liane thought you would. You had massive blood loss, and that can sometimes lead to…” His voice trailed off, and he sighed deeply. “Fuck.” “I remember leaving my body.” Pieces fit together in my mind. “You saved me.” “Yeah, after getting you into the whole fucking mess, the least I could do was save your life.” Darren’s voice was bitter. “I should never have let you go in with me. We should have waited for backup, or at least put on vests. I had two in the trunk of my car. I fucked up, Andi. It was just like before, the goddamn past repeated itself right in front of my eyes and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.” “We’re alive,” I pointed out. I hated seeing him hurt himself like this. “Barely. All I could think about was saving the goddamn evidence, and as soon as I was distracted that motherfucker went for his piece.” “You needed to save the drug, otherwise they might have walked.” A horrible thought struck my mind. “They didn’t walk, did they?” “Trial is pending, but the evidence is completely damning. The bastard closest to the exit had a bag of fairy dust that didn’t melt away. The sorcerer, Miguel Cabrera, he was shot twice but survived. He’ll get life for assaulting you, plus the drug charges. He gave away his other dealers and raw suppliers to avoid the death penalty.” “Good.” I reached over with my other hand and stroked the back of his arm. “What happened to you?”

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“I—” Darren’s voice cut off abruptly. He swallowed and tried again. “I heard the shot. I saw you fall. The bullet passed through a lung and nicked your aorta. I went to you, and you were dying. There was blood on your chest, blood coming out of your mouth, your nose…” He shuddered. “I tried to fix things enough for you to breathe, but you left your body. I forced you back in. I restarted your heart, but I couldn’t do anything for the lungs and you were dying, so I bound us together.” I remembered feeling him labor for me. “I didn’t know that was possible.” “It’s not something a healer is ever supposed to do. It drains you too fast, and more often than not both people die. Liane almost had a heart attack when she realized what I was doing. She forced us apart.” He looked down at our hands. “I’m not a great healer. I’m better with plants than I am with people, and I didn’t even know if I could pull a binding off at all, but I had to try. I couldn’t let you go, Andi.” He had been willing to die for me. He had reached inside of me and bound us more intimately than any two people were ever meant to be bound, and it had nearly killed him. It wasn’t a repeat of the past, not by a long shot. I couldn’t assign a number to my place in the hierarchy of his affection, it would be meaningless in the face of his actions. Everything was different now. “I love you, Dare.” I needed him to know that before things went any further. Darren stared at me, astonishment written on his face. It was better than the selfloathing that had been there a moment ago, and got even better when he grinned. It was a genuine grin this time, not pained or worried. He suddenly looked like himself again. “I love you too, baby. More than anything.” He lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to my knuckles. “More than anyone.” “Then everything will be all right.” “Yes.” He chuckled softly, then leaned in and brushed his lips over mine. It was a soft, fleeting kiss but it made my heart soar. The beeping of the heart monitor sped up, and Darren grinned again. “No more kisses or the nurse will throw me out for over-exciting you, and I don’t intend to be thrown out. I’m not going anywhere without you.” “Good.” I ended up spending most of my recuperation with Jack and Moira. Jack had to work and pointedly reminded Darren that he had to work as well. Moira took leave from the hospital and stayed with me, nursing me and mothering me in turns until I was so full of food, love and care that I thought I’d stifle. I had two weeks of bed rest and one of assisted care before she was satisfied that I could leave the house unattended. Darren came to me every day after work and stayed late into the night, usually until I fell asleep. We hadn’t progressed beyond kisses and a little teasing, but it was getting harder and harder to resist. After a full month of time off, I was feeling well 37

enough to be on my own again. Darren loaded my transplanted clothes into his car while I kissed Moira and Jack goodbye. “You’re so good to me,” I said as I wrapped Moira in an embrace. “You deserve it, honey.” She pulled back and dabbed at her eyes. “Are you sure you’ll be all right at home alone? You have another two weeks before you go back to work, you could spend them here.” “Let the girl be, Mo,” Jack interjected, “she deserves some peace and quiet after putting up with us for nearly a month.” He hugged me gently, careful of my chest. “You can take more time if you need it, Andrea.” “I’m getting pretty ready to be working again, Jack, but thanks. I’m sure I’ll be fine by then. I’ll call you both tomorrow, okay?” “Sounds good.” “Drive slowly,” Moira admonished Darren as he came back up to the front porch to get me. “Take her straight home.” “Yes ma’am.” Darren hugged Moira, shook Jack’s hand, and then helped me down the stairs and to his car. He held the door open for me, then got inside and started it up. I waved goodbye through the window, then sighed with relief as we pulled into the street. “Getting to be a little much?” “I love them dearly, but after living by myself for years it’s hard to always be with someone else, even someone as wonderful as Moira and Jack.” “So you’re looking forward to getting back to your place?” “I guess.” Well, not really. “Actually, what I’m really looking forward to is some unsupervised time with you.” I was so horny I could taste it, and no matter how I’d tried to coerce him into bed with me Darren had remained a perfect gentleman. At least, while I was in Moira and Jack’s house. “Me too.” Darren smiled slyly at me. “How do you feel about going to my house first? I’ve got a surprise for you there.” “What sort of surprise?” “The surprising kind, babe. The kind where I don’t let you play twenty questions and tease it out of me beforehand.” I threw one of my spare, clean socks at him. “You’re no fun at all.” “You won’t be saying that after tonight.” I didn’t want to give away how much his words affected me, so I went with a smile and silence. It seemed safer. My body still ached, but I wasn’t going to let that keep me from getting what I wanted tonight. I wanted Darren. I wanted all of him. Dreams weren’t enough anymore. 38

Darren carried my small night bag upstairs but let me walk by myself. I wanted to show him I was capable, but inexplicable shyness was tightening its grip around my throat and keeping me from saying anything. The silence stretched out, and I knew I was blushing. Darren glanced at me and smiled, then walked ahead once the elevator opened to get his door. “Come in.” I went inside. It looked just like it had before, almost five weeks ago. Plants, flowers and vines stretching up the walls and across the ceiling, filling the air with their rich warmth. The lights were soft and when Darren’s fingers gently pressed my back, I managed not to jump. Darren put my bag down and stepped in behind me, wrapping me in a tender embrace. “You don’t have to be nervous.” “I’m not,” I replied automatically, but the words tried to catch in my throat and came out very quiet. “Yes, you are.” He brushed his lips over the back of my head and kissed the top of my ear. “And you don’t have to be. Nothing we do together is wrong, no matter what it ends up being.” I sighed heavily. “Dare, I haven’t had sex for three years. I dreamed about you more than was good for me. I loved you, I hated you, and now I love you again. I’m getting over being shot and I have an ugly scar the size of my palm on my chest and everything is making me nervous, okay? I know I have issues. I can’t help it.” “Dreamed about me, huh?” Darren chuckled and kissed my hair. “And this makes you embarrassed? Andi, that’s nothing. I put a picture of you on my ceiling so that when I went to sleep at night you were the last thing I saw and when I woke up in the morning you were the first thing I saw. I kept it there even though it made me feel guilty as hell, because I hated not seeing you. Five years and I couldn’t even look at another woman without comparing her to you, but I didn’t have the balls to approach you after being such an incredible asshole. Then I jumped on the chance to work this case for you because I’m too pathetic to come near you without an excuse, and through all of it I loved you hopelessly. So we have issues together. And by the way,” he added smilingly, “I think you’re incredibly sexy, and having a scar doesn’t change that. I have grey hairs now; you’ll look like you’re dating an old man.” “Grey hairs make men look distinguished,” I said as I turned to face him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “And that scar is a precious reminder that you’re alive, when you could have been so…otherwise.” Our faces were barely an inch apart, and his was full of love, compassion and fast-rising desire. “Andrea…” He leaned in and kissed me, gently at first. His mouth was warm against mine and my lips parted, letting his tongue slide in. He caressed the edges of my lips and the tip of my tongue, exploring my mouth while his hands moved up to cup my face. He held me still, patient and tender as he reacquainted himself with my mouth. Fingertips brushed the lines of my face and I moaned softly as his hands traveled down, lower and lower until they had skirted my shoulders, traced down my spine and come to rest on my hips, pulling the rest of my 39

body into contact with his. I dragged him deeper into the kiss, wanting more so fast my entire body was starting to shake. “I need you,” I whispered against his lips, not wanting even a millimeter of distance between us. “I need you so bad.” “Baby,” he groaned, “this isn’t part of my plan. There was going to be seduction, music and champagne and that chocolate dessert—” “They can wait.” I grinned at him. “You can be my dessert.” “Fuck.” He kissed me hard, and then pulled back a bit. “At least I got some of the set-up done before you got here. You’re going to love this.” Wrapping his hands around my waist, he walked me slowly backwards towards his bedroom, kissing me all the way there. The room was dark, but it smelled incredibly sweet. Once we got past the edge of the doorway, Darren stopped us. He kept holding me, kept kissing me, but now his hands were moving beneath the edge of my shirt, fingers sliding under soft fabric and brushing me, tantalizing me. “Dare,” I begged, “let me get out of these, it’ll only take a moment.” “No, baby. I want to do it.” He grinned wickedly at me. “Slowly. So you hold still for a little bit and let me play. It’s the least you can do after postponing my grandiose schemes.” “But—” There was no but. Darren wasn’t going to be denied. He pressed his lips to the point of my shoulder while hooking his thumbs inside the waistband of my loose cotton pants and sliding them slowly down over my hips. He pulled them just far enough to expose my ass and left them there, then splayed his fingers out across my soft, round skin, a little less round than it had been before the shooting thanks to my injuries, but he seemed to be enjoying it. And God, was I enjoying him touching me. The memory of his hands on my body had sent me over the edge plenty of times, but the reality was a million times better. Warm, possessive, soft, callused, tender, squeezing pressure all wrapped around his own obvious pleasure and the shudders of enjoyment touching me gave him, made me desperate for more. “Dare…” He slipped one of his hands around my waist to my front, dipping his fingers down into my curls and lower, deeper, while his other hand resumed its explorations beneath my shirt, gliding up past my bellybutton and against my ribs, finally stopping just beneath the curve of my breast. His fingers, slick with my desire, pressed up into me, and I lost it. I tightened my grip around his neck as I convulsed, my body shivering with the orgasm that seemed to travel from his fingers up my spine. It felt so good, better than what I’d managed alone, so much better… As I calmed down, Darren took his hand back. He brought it to his mouth and licked his fingertips, sighing. “God, you taste good.” “You could taste me better if I was lying down,” I said breathlessly.

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“Good point.” Suddenly he was kneeling in front of me, and I braced myself on his shoulders. He pulled my pants and underwear slowly down my legs, kissing every new inch that was exposed until they were down to my feet. Then he stood and repeated the process with my shirt, lifting it up and over my head and dropping it to the floor as his lips and fingertips caressed my nipples. I pressed his head harder into my breast and he bit me lightly, just enough to make my skin sting before laving over it with his wet, eager tongue. My legs felt weak and I worried I wasn’t going to stay standing much longer, so I pulled his face up to mine. “Bed,” I murmured desperately. “Now.” “Yes.” He walked us backwards again, until I felt my knees hit the edge of the bed. Darren lowered me down onto it, careful to support my back, and when I touched the cover I got the most delicious surprise. The bed was coated with rose petals, a quarterinch thick layer of velvety smoothness. Just like before they clung to me, infused with Darren’s power and responding to his command. Petals curled and unfurled in rhythm with Darren’s heartbeat against my body and every nerve was alive with pleasure. Darren lifted a handful of petals and dripped them over my chest, and they molded to me like a second skin, warm and soft and with just enough pressure to feel like fingertips gently touching me. This was far beyond anything Darren had done with me when we’d been lovers before, and it was so incredible my body was torn between tears and ecstasy. Darren stroked me slowly, watching me with a look of such heated contentment that I couldn’t tear my eyes away. He covered my body with petals, each one becoming another caress. It was as though he had a hundred hands, and each one was caressing me, loving me. He paused to undress, and the petals paused with him, becoming limp as his presence left them for a moment. I kept watching him. He was so beautiful. Muscular but smooth, and much better endowed than his slender figure implied. He was fully erect, swollen and hard and glistening with need. I reached my hand out as soon as he was within range and curled my fingers around him, and he shuddered. “I won’t last if you do that,” he whispered, bringing his face down next to mine and kissing me heatedly. “Don’t last,” I replied. “I want you in me. We have all night, you can last later, but I want you now.” “Andi…” Darren thrust his tongue between my lips and I welcomed him, pulling him between my legs at the same time. His body pressed against mine, and the petals fluttered rapidly as his heart rate increased. Darren held himself up on his elbows, keeping his weight off my chest, but his length pressed hard against my inner thigh. I shifted my hips and drew his cock flush to me. “In me,” I moaned, “Now.”

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“Babe…” Darren kissed me again and then slowly, finally began to slide inside. Nothing had prepared me for the feel of him again, none of my dreams and none of my memories. He slid deep, so deep, stretching me and touching places that I’d almost forgotten. The feel of him was so amazing I couldn’t help coming again, throwing me head back and crying his name as my fingers dug into his biceps and my sheath squeezed him. Darren groaned, desperately clinging to his control but unable to keep from moving. His tongue mimicked the thrusts of his cock, slight at first but eventually going deeper, harder. I rolled my hips into his thrusts, wrapping my legs around his hips and forcing him deeper still. I was going to come again, and I knew Darren was reaching the point of no return. I moved my hands, one fisting his hair while the other slid back to his ass. I pulled him as close as possible, my whole body straining to bring him into me as I suddenly began to crash, and I threw my head back and screamed as my orgasm ripped through me again. Darren finally let go, burying himself in me and gasping harshly as his body released, spilling his release into me with jet after jet of hot, white pleasure. Petals fluttered desperately, beating against the bed and my skin like moths seeking the flame. The moment stretched, and stretched, and I forgot to breathe as I stared at him, so achingly beautiful and mine again, finally mine, finally where he belonged. His orgasm slowly ebbed, and Darren slumped down against me, still careful of my chest but unable to hold himself up. He glowed in the aftermath of our passion, and as he relaxed I felt his power ebb and the petals, delicate extensions of his body, subsided into just petals again, soft and sweet but separate from us. I held him, stroking his back and shoulders and kissing whatever I could reach of him, giving him the time he needed to recover. When he finally lifted his head to look at me again, I grinned at him. “I think I know where I’ll be spending my next two weeks off.” “With me.” His voice was soft, and his eyes glittered in the faint light. “You can stay longer than two weeks, Andi. I don’t want you to leave, ever.” “Living together is a pretty big jump, Darren.” “I consider it going slowly. What I really want to do is ask you to marry me, but I won’t do that until I know you’re ready.” He smiled weakly. “I don’t think I could handle rejection.” “Oh, Dare…” I leaned in and kissed him. “I doubt I’d say no.” “Doubt isn’t good enough. I want iron-clad certainty. Besides,” now his grin became more playful, “I want the romance of a well thought-out proposal. Everything I had planned for tonight and more. No more preemptive seduction from you, wicked woman.” “You loved it,” I said, grinning back. “And I loved it. Where’s the problem?” “Rush, rush, rush.” He shook his head and mock-sighed. “Sometimes slower is better, baby.”

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“You’ll have plenty of time to argue your point,” I said archly, tightening my inner muscles around his softening cock and drawing another groan out of him. “Over and over and over again. On the bed, on the balcony, in your bath…speaking of the balcony, did you strip every rose you’ve got for this?” “Most of them,” he replied. “Poor little naked babies. New buds are already coming up, though, and I’ll help them along tomorrow. Tonight, I want to spend with you.” “Mm, good plan. Maybe we should have that dessert. And afterwards, I can have dessert again.” I squeezed him again and he laughed this time. “Sounds like an excellent plan.” “Yes, it does.” I unwrapped my legs and he withdrew slowly, kissed me and then stood up. “Give me just a few minutes and I’ll bring it in here.” “Great.” He turned to leave the bedroom. “Dare?” “Andi?” “I won’t leave. Ever.” His grin was joyful. “Good. I’ll start planning a proper proposal.” “We’ll see if you get yours ready before I do.” “If you propose to me, I’ll just take a rain check,” he replied, coming back over and sliding down next to me on the bed. “I want to finally do something the way it should be done with you, baby. That includes me on bended knee asking you to make me the happiest man in the world. That includes me making you happy for the rest of your life, putting you first in my thoughts and my heart, and standing by you through good times and bad. I’m through fucking around with my life, Andi. I love you too much to take chances anymore.” Well, damn. “I guess I’ll put my proposal on hold,” I said finally. “Hell yes, you will.” He kissed me again, a tender kiss filled with love and joy and anticipation. “This is just the beginning, love. We’re over the false start. Time for the main event. And chocolate.” He bounded off the bed and walked away to the kitchen. I watched him go, and then sank against the petals with a happy sigh. I was lucky to get a second chance with Darren. I was lucky to be alive. I was safe, I was loved, and for the first time in years, I wasn’t lonely. The emptiness and distance that I’d cultivated for five years melted away, leaving my new family in its wake. The smell of warm chocolate drifted to my nose, and I couldn’t stop smiling. Inside, I felt that the new and uncallused part of me would keep smiling, maybe for the rest of my life. That seemed just about long enough.

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About the Author Cari Z is a Colorado girl who loves snow and sunshine. She works, travels, writes and speaks poor French, but at least the French is improving. Slowly.

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Ursa Major by Mary Winter Sarah Doyle's job with a reputable Washington firm sends her to the Alaskan National Wildlife Refuge to write an honest report about oil drilling. She's aided by Liam Phillips, owner of RoundTheBend Eco Tours. All she wants is a few weeks in the wilderness and to keep her personal opinions in check so she can write the unbiased report her firm requests. Get in and get out. That's what she's done in the past, and what she expects to do now. She hadn't counted on her sexy, rugged guide or the feelings he kindles inside her. Liam is a man who will do anything to save his home and keep his secret safe. The remote countryside keeps his people hidden. It's their refuge and their home. He expects a stuffy political puppet, not a woman as untamed as the land he loves. His goal is to give Sarah the information she needs and send her back to Washington D.C. as soon as possible. However, pressures back in Washington DC, and from Liam's people, are mounting. Sarah has to persevere for her own peace of mind, for an entire ecosystem, and for a people she doesn't even know. But time is running out and Liam may have to reveal his darkest secrets in order to save everything. BUY: http://www.pinkpetalbooks.com/index.php?/Mary-Winter/Ursa-Major.html

Chapter One Sitting in the seat of the commuter plane, listening to the tinny vibration of metal, the whoosh of air currents buffeting the tiny craft, Sarah Doyle forced herself to uncurl her fingers from around the armrest and breathe deeply. After flying across the lower forty-eight states, then so far north that the sun never set this time of year, she expected she’d be less fearful of flying. Maybe the isolation was getting to her? Looking out the window over the Alaskan landscape, Sarah saw nothing except an occasional cabin and small settlements undeservedly called towns. “We’re almost there,” the pilot called over the intercom. The twenty-six seat plane was barely half full. She had the row to herself. The rest of the passengers were all avid fishermen and their excitement built as they neared their destination of Deadhorse, Alaska. They spoke of salmon runs of years past, of fishing in Yellowstone, of the catch they hoped to land this year. Sarah managed a smile at the sole flight attendant. She’d seen the pilot as she’d boarded, an older man who had flown this route since he was in his twenties. His graying hair and full beard marked him as several decades older than that, and his easy smile should have put Sarah at ease. Yet, the more she looked out the window, the more she saw this starkly beautiful landscape, and the more she feared what she had to do. Hodges & Associates sent her out here on a mission. She couldn’t let her spiritual or her environmental beliefs get in the way. No matter if DC politics sickened her on the best of days, and made her wish she were far, far away on the worst. The plane began a steep descent, cutting off her thoughts. Sarah swallowed hard, her fingers once more gripping the armrest as the plane bumped and jolted its way down to the strip of runway outside of Deadhorse. Sarah closed her eyes and tried to block out the images 45

of bloated, dead carcasses the town’s name invoked. A slight bump announced the plane’s touchdown, and she breathed a sigh of relief. On firm ground once again. She used the moments while the plane taxied to the terminal to calm her racing heart and wrap her political shell around her. She was here on a fact finding mission. Once she met up with Liam from Round the Bend EcoTours, she’d see the Brooks Range and what the oil pipeline was doing, or not doing, to the environment. Once that was done, she’d return to her cushy apartment in Washington D.C., where the wildest thing she had to deal with was the non-stop city traffic, and write her report. Fair and unbiased. She could do this. She had to do this. The plane stopped and the pilot thanked them for flying with him, as if any of them really had a choice. She fished her sunglasses out of her carry-on and put them on before disembarking to gather her luggage. Just a small suitcase and camping supplies, but she had no doubt they’d be enough to carry into the terminal. She scanned the area, but didn’t see anyone who looked like her contact. I don’t know why you’re worrying about this. Just write your report and come back. It’s not that big of a deal. Her fiancé’s words haunted her as she slung her backpacking frame over her shoulders and pulled out the handle on her rolling suitcase. Sarah curled her lip in disgust. Walt Beamer hadn’t been beyond the city limits a day in his life and didn’t understand what it meant to be out here. He didn’t understand what her work meant to her. She drew in a breath of fresh, clean air, available even here at the airport, and smiled. Just inside the terminal, Sarah removed her sunglasses and blinked at the sudden change in lighting. The small building housed worn chairs that looked left over from the ’70s and a few vending machines. A man leaned against the wall next to the coffee machine. Thick hair the color of polished mahogany hung in soft waves nearly to his collar. He towered over most of the men—other than her, there were no women—in the terminal. Dressed in a long-sleeved black turtleneck that stretched across his broad chest, worn blue jeans, and heavy hiking boots, he radiated masculinity. Just looking at him made her throat dry and her pulse leap. She’d be in the backwoods of Alaska with him. Her body hummed at the prospect, and she struggled to keep her fiancé’s image foremost in her mind, though compared to this woodsman, a slick city lawyer had no chance. Guilt assailed her. Just because she and Walt were having problems didn’t mean she should act impulsively. She could be professional. After all, she’d come out here to write her report on the impact of drilling on the environment. An impartial report, as her boss had reminded her time and time again with an implied “wink and nod.” She knew exactly what her boss expected to read. First, she’d gather the facts. Then, she’d write the report they required. The man straightened. He gave her a long perusal, his shuttered gaze not giving anything away. His attention lingered on the thrust of her breasts against the faded oversized University of Mary Washington sweatshirt she wore, then down the length of her legs. He gave a slight nod at her hiking boots, as if she wasn’t completely without common sense, then with the leisurely stride of a man completely in control of his environment, he walked toward her. A hint of a smile crossed his chiseled lips as he neared. “Sarah Doyle?” He held out a large hand.

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She released the handle of her small suitcase and clasped it. His handshake was firm, but not overly so. Where his fingers touched hers, tingles shot up her arm. “You’re Liam?” She released his fingers. He nodded. “Let me help you with that.” “Thanks.” Sarah slid her backpacking frame from her shoulders, deciding there wasn’t any harm in letting him carry it to the vehicle. She’d carry it often enough if her plans to live out in the field bore fruit. “I appreciate that.” She grabbed the handle of her suitcase. “The truck’s this way.” Without waiting for her, he easily lifted her gear, the muscles in his biceps bulging. Sarah tried not to notice, just as she tried to ignore the way his jeans clung to his rear. She had an engagement ring tucked in her dresser back home. She shouldn’t be looking at him this way. Damn Walt and his angry words. She sighed, knowing she’d have to make a decision one way or the other about his proposal. And right now, the fact that she’d taken off the ring and put it in her jewelry box spoke volumes. She followed him to the truck, where he opened the door and helped her inside. Moments later, they were on their way. Not one to chatter, Sarah watched as the scenery changed from the homes and small businesses designed to cater to the oil workers, to the sparse landscape. On the horizon, she thought she saw an elk, though the thought of wildlife so close to town seemed foreign to her. She’d read there were bears here. Both black bears and grizzlies, and a shudder wound its way down her spine at the thought of meeting them in the woods. “Cold?” Liam asked. His voice sounded like Swiss chocolate. Just the sound of it chased the chill from her and filled her with liquid heat. Damn it, why was she so hot for this guy? “I’m fine. Just a shock from the weather in DC,” she answered. “I’ll bet. The lower 48 has nothing on us.” His smile flashed white teeth against his tanned skin. “The lodge is just about five miles from town. We’ll be there shortly.” He turned onto a gravel road, maneuvering the large quad-cab truck easily between ruts and larger rocks. True to his word, he pulled up in front of the lodge before much longer. The two story building, built from stone and logs, rose from a flat plain around it. Liam pressed the garage door opener on the sun visor, and the door opened to reveal room for three cars, though one of the bays held an ATV and a snowmobile. A red jeep sat in the other parking spot. He pulled the truck in and stopped. Just as before, he held the door open for her and grabbed her backpack frame before she could protest, then led her into the building. An open floor plan showcased a large living area with a fireplace and a kitchen with a spacious dining area. A short hall led to closed doors, and a wooden staircase led to the upstairs rooms. A balcony overlooked the living room with its large windows that looked out onto the Alaskan wilderness. Everything was polished wood with bronze trim, the leather couches and heavy bookshelves giving the place a masculine air. Sarah suddenly felt very small and very feminine. “Let me give you the nickel tour.” He pointed down the hall, showing her the master bath, the closed door to his study. Upstairs, there appeared to be six bedrooms, with a couple more bathrooms. He showed her to a room close to the stairs decorated in a North Woods theme. “Don’t get too comfy. We’ll head out early tomorrow morning. I’ll be back in a couple 47

of hours to take you downstairs for dinner. I’ve got some work to do.” From downstairs, male voices rumbled, and he listened to them for a charged moment before hurrying downstairs. No sooner had he left than her cell phone rang. Sarah answered it. “I trust you made it all right,” Ken’s voice crackled across the connection. “Just got here. Everything okay?” She’d been given her instructions. She hadn’t expected her boss to call so soon. “Yeah, fine.” Ken’s voice shook. Sarah knew he lied. Something was going on. First this mission, her employer’s insistence that she not sway her report one way or other, when Ken knew the kind of work she did. In fact, he’d told her repeatedly that was why she was picked for this project. “Let me know as soon as you start on the report, all right?” “I will. Don’t worry, Ken. You can count on me.” “Good.” Muffled sounds of a hushed conversation filtered through the phone line. “I got to go.” The line went dead. Sarah stared at her silent phone for a moment. It rang again. “Don’t worry, Ken,” she said as she lifted the phone to her ear. “I have it covered.” “Well I’m glad to hear that,” Walt’s voice sounded. “You made it all right?” “Just got here.” She sat down on the bed, the comforter soft beneath her. “So how soon can you wrap up your work and come back? I have an important function in two weeks. I’d like you to be there.” Sarah rolled her eyes. They’d discussed this. “I have an open ended assignment, Walt. I’ll be here as long as it takes to get the job done.” He guffawed. “Go out, take a look around and write your report. You’ll be home in a week.” Sarah shook her head, feeling displeasure pull the corners of her mouth down. He didn’t understand. “I take my work seriously, Walt. I’ll be here as long as it takes.” From downstairs, she heard rustling. She needed to find out more about her host. Interviewing him would be the perfect place to start gathering information. “Good bye.” She disconnected the call. Later, she’d deal with Walt and decide just what she was going to do about him. ~* * *~ Liam sank into the leather executive chair behind his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he agreed to show Sarah around the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, it mostly was at the behest of people he couldn’t refuse. His father had just left to meet with them, no doubt to tell them that his son would be more than happy to follow their urging. Sanctimonious bastards. They stay in their hiding, giving out orders. They didn’t know how it really was. A memory of being trapped in a four-by-four Russian cell filled his mind, and for a moment, his breath stuck in his lungs. He was there, body trembling, weak from hunger and exhaustion, waiting for his tormentors to come and beat him again. He shook his head, and as quickly as it had come, the horrible memories receded. His brother’s heavy footsteps sounded outside the room. Liam reminded himself he was back home in Alaska, not trapped in a Russian holding facility. Cameron had been there

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too, presumably in the cell next to his, and yet, his younger twin showed no signs of the haunted dreams. He simply did what he had to do. And they had both escaped. “Hey bro, looks like you got yourself a live one,” Cameron said. Without asking he sank into one of the two chairs sitting in front of the desk and scanned the walls filled with pictures of their adventures across the globe. Some for fun. Some at the urging of the organization to which his father answered. Liam sighed. His younger brother acted the playboy, and lived it, too, from his sunstreaked brown hair the same shade as his own, to the board shorts he wore in spite of the highs that wouldn’t quite reach sixty degrees. “I want you to lay low for a while. There’s no need in you getting caught up in this craziness. I’ll take her out, show her what she wants to see. Hopefully she’ll be back in DC before long.” He reached for a topographical map and unfolded it on the nearly bare desk. One end leaned against his computer. He used a Ducks Unlimited mug to hold the other end down. Cameron leaned over the map. “Any idea where you’ll take her?” He wagged his eyebrows at his own double entendre. Used to his brother, Liam tried to ignore Cameron. “I thought we’d head towards the Brooks Range.” He traced a route leading well away from the oil fields. “Spend a few days out there. Let her see how wild and untamed it really is out here. Then hopefully she’ll do the right thing.” “Write the report telling them not to drill.” Cameron barked mocking laughter. “She’s from DC. She works for politicians. Even if she does the right thing, do you think that they’ll follow her recommendation?” “They better. It’s what the Quintursa wants done.” “They’re nothing but a bunch of old men out of touch with reality.” For a moment, Cameron’s façade faded to show the determined man beneath. Then he smiled, and once more his happy-go-lucky glamour was in place. “And right now, bro, reality looks pretty damn hot.” He clapped Liam on the shoulder. “Stay away from her, Cameron.” Liam folded the map, not wanting to think about his brother making moves on Sarah. It was none of his business, though he’d looked for rings. Didn’t want a jealous boyfriend yelling about Sarah being alone with he and his brother in the middle of nowhere. The entire drive, he’d smelled the lavender scent of her shampoo, the light floral fragrance that surrounded her. One he hoped she didn’t take into their tent. She smelled like springtime, and to bears and other animals with a keen sense of smell, that meant food. Around her, his body thought of something else all together. “Well, don’t we sound like a bear with a thorn in its paw.” Cameron straightened. He studied Liam for a moment. “All right. I’ll stay away like a good little boy. There’s something about this woman that you’re not telling me. Could be her long wavy hair, or the body that’s curved in all the right places. Or maybe, just maybe, my big brother has finally found a woman who’s going to get under his skin.” Laughing, Cameron turned on his heel and left the study. Liam watched him go. Once more, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Just listening to his brother’s words, teasing though they’d been, conjured a mental image of Sarah Doyle. Cameron pinned it right. She had long, wavy hair held back with a clip, and a body that-- even 49

under a baggy sweatshirt and jeans--definitely curved in all the right places. Long legs that made a man wonder what they’d be like wrapped around his hips. What Cameron didn’t mention was the intelligence in her hazel eyes. Or her scent. That lavender smell that tugged at his gut. Springtime. Food. Flowers. Everything he shouldn’t want and couldn’t have. He breathed a heavy sigh, still swearing he could smell her even through the floor that separated them. The Quintursa wouldn’t be happy with this development. Not at all. He fired up his computer, the wallpaper of an Alaskan Grizzly reminding him exactly what was at stake. Everything. Deadhorse, Alaska was as close as it came to a company town. As much as he’d hate to see the oil business and the jobs it brought leave, he’d hate to have this land and its creatures destroyed even more. A slippery slope, one he’d been walking all his life. The best he could hope for was that Sarah would write her report and Washington would listen. It was a long shot, but right now, it was all they had. The phone rang just as he checked satellite and weather maps to plan their camping excursion. Picking it up, he listened for his brother. Luckily, Cameron was gone. “Round the Bend EcoTours, Liam here.” “She’s arrived?” The Quintursa agent gave no greeting. He never did. From the sound of his voice, Liam thought it was the same one he’d been working with for a while, but he never could tell. Damn bastards were far too secretive by far. As if Liam would ever betray any of them, or their secret. “Yeah, she’s here. We’re heading out in the morning. I was just double checking the forecasts.” “Good. We have more information on Hodges Associates. I hope this Sarah knows what she’s getting into. Bill Hodges is in some mighty deep pockets, none of them friendly to our cause. I’m sending you everything we have. She is not to know. Understand?” Liam nodded, used to the super-spy secretive nature of the organization that governed his kind. Most of the time he thought they took themselves entirely too seriously. But then, several months in a Russian prison changed his outlook and his life. “Copy. She isn’t to know a thing.” “And anything you gather you’re to send directly to us. We want to know everything about this woman.” “Understood.” Already, Liam filtered his information. Some things, like how good she smelled, or the way he knew her breasts would fill his hands, he wouldn’t tell them. Hell, he had no business thinking that way. She was a human. Truth be told, he’d most likely never get a chance to find out anyway. “First impressions?” “I think she’s serious about this. Looks like she knows what she’s doing, though I’ll go over her equipment tomorrow. Didn’t come dressed in a power suit. She looks like she’s ready to go camping. I expect we’ll spend a few days out. I’ll show her the oil rigs. The damage the pipelines do to the environment and what happens when they break, then send her back so she can write her report about how increased oil drilling would be a determent to this national treasure.” “Good. Good. We need to make sure she stays sympathetic to our cause. You have authority to do whatever it takes to keep her on our side. Full authority.” The weight in the 50

agent’s words, made Liam sit up straight in his chair. He’d never been given full authority before, always told in half-truths and couched language what he could, and couldn’t do. “Do you understand?” the agent asked, when Liam didn’t answer. “Yes. I do. Thank you. Full authority to keep her on our team. I hear you.” Already his mind raced with the possibilities. His body reacted differently. Mentally, he willed it to behave. He hadn’t had to seduce a woman yet to get what he wanted. Completely mutual and fully pleasurable. When it came to Sarah, totally out of line. “Keep us posted.” Then, without waiting for a reply, the agent hung up. Liam stared at the dead handset for a moment, before replacing it in the cradle. His email chimed with the anticipated information. Opening it, he scanned the document. Apparently Bill Hodges was quite the piece of work. Not liking what he read, or its implications for Sarah, he knew he’d be spending the next couple of hours stuck in his den. Now, more than before, he needed to warn Cameron away. Best Liam deal with this himself. A flash of movement outside the window pulled Liam’s attention from his computer. He leaned back, watching a bachelor grizzly lumber towards the stand of trees and bushes beyond the lodge. Liam didn’t recognize the animal. This time of year, bears congregated where they could to find food. He’d fielded bear complaints from Deadhorse citizens who couldn’t be bothered to bear-proof their backyards. To a creature determined to gain as much weight as winter, an unlatched garbage can created the perfect buffet. He frowned, knowing once again he’d have to fight the battle of humans versus nature. Inevitably, nature lost. He watched the juvenile male for several moments longer, half wanting to go upstairs and see if Sarah looked out her window at the bear. He doubted she’d seen one so close before. Perhaps this would be the perfect time to introduce her to Alaska’s wildlife from the safety of the lodge. He pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. A hint of lavender filled the air. From his position behind his desk, he watched as she descended the stairs and went into the living area. A glance out the window showed the bear had left. Just as well. Maybe she should get her first glimpse of a grizzly in the wild, with nothing but a bit of canvas and him to protect her. Might make a better impact. His stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten much today. Dinner first. A chance to get to know Sarah better. He shut down his computer, deciding he’d done about enough work for today. The Quintursa authorized him to use any means necessary to convince Sarah to write a report recommending no further drilling in the refuge. For a moment, he wondered if that meant revealing his secret. He shook his head. They couldn’t have meant that. For centuries his kind had lived among humans, silent guardians trying to protect them from the things they did. Of course, prior to the 1900s, they’d spent more time protecting the humans from Mother Nature than the other way around. A smile quirked his lips. Funny how things changed. He glanced in the living area. Sarah stood at the windows, staring out into the Alaskan landscape. With her arms wrapped around her, she looked very vulnerable, very frail. He wondered what went through her mind. “I’ll start dinner in a little bit. Do you like salmon?” She turned and smiled. “I do. Thanks. I’m sure it’ll taste better up here than from the freezer at home.” “I’m sure it will. Is there anything you need? You settled in all right?” 51

She nodded. “I’m good. Thanks.” He hoped so. From the bottom of his heart, he hoped she was good. Because if she wasn’t, more than an ecosystem rested on her report. She held the fate of an undiscovered species in her hands, and she didn’t even know it. And he couldn’t tell her.

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