by Cate Masters
Sheree emitted a high-pitched noise and clenched her hands. “Eric.”
A glow lit Joss as the floor vibrated. Pure white rays emanated from her. She pointed, and the rays shot from her finger. “Now, Sheree. Go.”
Outside, a truck’s engine revved. “Come on, Sheree,” Tom called. “Jump in.”
Glancing back as she lowered down the steps, Sheree spat, “You’ll be sorry.” At another rumble, she ran toward the open passenger door and scrambled inside the moving truck. Her face out the window bore an odd expression of triumph.
Breathless, Eric’s vision cleared. No longer lightheaded, he asked, “What just happened?”
Had he imagined it? Joss appeared as surprised as him. The glow around her had faded. She had always appeared more luminous than others, but he knew better now than to attribute it to her skin care products. This was real magic.
* * * *
Damn. What had just happened? Joss’s emotions carried her away. Or worse, she might have inadvertently summoned the power of the ley lines to do her bidding. Her toes began to tingle when the floor vibrated. Incredible energy had zapped along her legs to her head, borne along by fury and an urgent need to protect Eric.
What if she’d imagined some harm to Sheree? She might have caused real damage.
She couldn’t explain to Eric, not without sounding like a lunatic. Energy still vibrated through her body, scattering her thoughts. Flustered, she headed back to the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “I think I just saved your sorry ass from your girlfriend.”
Who seemed strangely pleased Joss had sent her away. What did it mean?
Once through the door, she leaned against the counter to steady herself.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Annie touched her shoulder then jerked her hand away. “Ow. You shocked me hard.”
“Did I? How weird.” Joss forced a laugh and turned before her friend could figure out exactly how strange.
Narrowing her eyes, Annie assessed her. “Are you okay? You seem, I don’t know. Weird is a good description, actually.”
The truth might be best. “I had a rush of energy, now I’m kind of shaky.”
“Maybe it’s early menopause.” Annie dragged a stool over. “Sit.”
Doing as she was instructed, Joss fanned herself. “I hope not. I’ve had a few hot flashes recently though.” She wouldn’t reveal Eric had caused them.
Annie frowned. “I’ll get you a drink.”
“Jocelyn?” Aunt Lydia’s voice echoed from the dining room and she rushed in. “Oh, there you are. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Joss stressed, rolling her eyes in Annie’s direction to quiet her aunt.
Thankfully, Lydia got it. With a discreet nod, she glided to Annie’s side. “Would you mind checking the food table, dearest?”
Glancing between the two, Annie said, “Sure.” In two seconds, she was gone.
Lydia rushed over. “Did you cause the tremor?”
Great. Her aunt had figured it out. “I think so.”
Clasping her hands together, she held them to her lips. “I suspected as much. Do you know what this means?”
“That I’d better be careful what I wish for?” How many times had Gram teased her when she was younger? Careful what you wish for, you might just get it. Now she understood.
“Yes, and much more.”
“How much more?” Maybe she didn’t want to know.
“Your grandmother will return tomorrow. We’ll discuss it then.”
Quite a bit more, then. “I can’t wait.” Maybe Gram could tell her how to get rid of it.
Chapter 17
Tom’s truck fish-tailed along the driveway and onto Yellow Breeches Road.
Sheree clutched the dash. “Slow down. Are you trying to get us killed?” Just when she was about to get what she’d been waiting for.
Tom laughed. “Do you think we have to fear death now? With them on our side?”
More like they used her and Tom to get what they wanted. Now, Sheree knew something to report. Finally. “Don’t bet on it. But I want to see their faces when I tell them what she’s done.” Even more, she wanted to see Eric in her bed, in the flesh, as she’d seen in the vision they’d dangled before her like a seductive carrot.
A dark figure caught her eye. He stood among the trees to the side of the road. “Pull over! It’s him.”
When the truck came to a stop, she threw open the door. Did he already know? Ooh, if they tried to get out of giving her Eric, she’d give them what for. Her hands clenched in anticipation of the fight.
The dark man leaned against a tree. “What took you so long?”
Her blood boiled. “We got here as soon as we could. I needed to tell you right away.”
He strode deeper into the thicket. “Yes, yes, come along.”
Tom appeared as confused as her. She scurried after the man. He knew something. Wait, how could he when he hadn’t been there? Only she could provide the details.
A shiver passed over her. Her mother used to say, the devil’s in the details. If Mama could only see her now, she’d cut a switch for sure. Sheree pulled herself taller. No, the days of locking her in her room were far gone. Sheree had escaped the old nightmare. She could finagle her way out of this one, too.
Right now, she wasn’t so sure about following this weirdo much farther. The trees crowded uncomfortably, blocking out the late afternoon sunlight. A strange hush settled over the place. She couldn’t see one bird or squirrel. Thick shadows shifted behind the trees in a creepy mist.
She hugged her arms across her spangly red, white, and blue striped T-shirt, then stopped short.
Ahead, the dark man’s boss sat by a fire. She could swear the flames danced in a circle, fiery legs kicking and bending gracefully.
The dark man halted and bowed. “Lord Plouton, I bring you Sheree and Tom.”
Rising slowly, Lord Plouton snapped his fingers. The flames consolidated into one blaze, ordinary as any campfire. This man wasn’t dressed for camping. Beneath his black suit jacket, unbuttoned to reveal washboard abs, his ebony skin had a dull sheen to match the fabric of his suit.
His white teeth flashed in a smile. “Ah, yes. We meet again.”
She closed her eyes a moment. When he looked at her, she fell through a seemingly endless abyss. “Hello.”
Tom blustered, “We have news, your lordship.”
“Do you?” he asked, mockingly. “By all means, I’m waiting with bated breath.”
She wasn’t about to let Tom steal her thunder. He might’ve been there, but he didn’t see what she saw. “You were right. Jocelyn Gibson used the ley line. Today. I was there.”
Yep, caught his attention now.
Peering at her, he asked, “And?”
“She glowed. The ground shook. She forced me to leave.”
Raising his hand, Lord Plouton opened his palm as if performing a magic trick. “How?”
Sheree twitched. “Pardon?”
Lord Plouton strolled near. “How, exactly, did she force you?”
Trying to recall, Sheree found the details lacking. “Lightning came out her fingers.”
“So she hit you with a lightning bolt?”
“Not exactly.” Or had she? It had gone fuzzy in Sheree’s head. Mrs. Gibson had stood there and glared. Refused to let Eric leave. The bitch!
Plouton circled too close. Wherever he moved beside her, her skin grew so hot it could have blistered.
“Tell me what happened, Sheree.”
“I stood on her porch. Something kept me from going inside.” Fear. Mrs. Gibson looked like she might try to kick Sheree’s ass.
“And?” he snapped.
Recounting the event, Sheree embellished somewhat. The vibration took on the magnitude of an earthquake. The light around Joss intensified to a spotlight. And when Joss pointed at her, definite zig-zagged bolts shot out. If she hadn’t left when she did, Joss might hav
e electrocuted her. Finishing the tale, Sheree almost danced, it sounded so juicy-good.
Strolling, Lord Plouton appeared to be in deep thought. He halted. “Are you sure?”
“What do you mean? I was there. Of course I’m sure.” She stopped short of demanding Eric, now.
“Get out.” Lord Plouton whirled away. Darkness covered him, and he was gone.
“What? No. I gave you what you asked. Now I want Eric.”
“Tonight.” The dark man’s tone sounded too soothing and fake. She didn’t like the way he said it. Not one bit.
* * * *
Downing lemonade, Eric wondered how he could remain relaxed even though the woman opposite him at the table droned on about marriage, the one subject he avoided with a passion. Especially when it regarded his own. Yet here he was, almost contributing to the conversation.
“You know how devastating it is to lose the one you love.” Lydia glanced back as Joss came outside. “Poor Jocelyn spent twenty three years with John. To tell you the truth, I never believed he was her true soul mate.”
The first interesting thing she’d said. “Why?”
“She’s an Aquarian. He was a Gemini.” Lydia tossed her head, flicking her brassy curls. They caught the dappled sunlight through the leafy canopy overhead.
He voiced what he guessed to be her point. “Ah. It wasn’t written in the stars.” Whatever the phrase meant.
“Exactly.” The aunt tapped the table with her long red and white striped nails. She’d painted each thumbnail blue with a single white star. “When were you born?”
“August.” Opening a greeting card sent by his sister, another from his mom, comprised his celebratory activities. Woo-freaking-hoo.
Arching a brow, Lydia said in a knowing tone, “A Leo. What day of the month?”
“The twenty fourth. Why?”
With a whoop, she clapped her hands.
“Is it a good sign?” Obviously, she thought so.
“Leos are notoriously compatible with Aquarians. And to people born on the twenty fourth day of the month, family means more to you than anything. You maintain the harmony and balance within your family.”
He kept silent, hoping she’d stop this line of conversation.
She scrutinized him. “What about you? Did you lose your soul mate when Karen died?”
Normally, he’d have excused himself after such a question, and never spoken to the inquirer again. An atmosphere of calm quelled any reaction, so he found himself answering, “I don’t know.” How did she know Karen’s name?
He’d never considered it at any length. He loved Karen with all his heart, and losing her left a gaping hole that had never healed. Joss had replaced Karen in his mind, soothing as the lavender scent wafting through the window.
His honesty provoked a thoughtful hmm from the woman.
Joss appeared, brandished the pitcher defensively. “More?”
“Please.” Grateful for the interruption, he set down his glass.
She glanced at her aunt and back to him. “How is everything?”
Lydia tapped a nail on the table top. “We were just discussing, dear, how you both lost your spouses.”
“I was referring to the food.” Shifting her hip, Joss leveled a wary gaze at her aunt. “What, exactly, were you discussing?”
With a flourish of her hand, Lydia waved. “Nothing specific.”
Words escaped Eric’s mouth. “She said John wasn’t your soul mate.” Immediately mortified, he straightened, tense and wary of her reaction.
Joss’s jaw dropped. “What? How could you say such a thing?”
People nearby turned toward them. The patio shook, and Joss blushed.
Lydia straightened. In a hushed tone, she said, “I merely said your astrological signs were incompatible.”
Refilling her aunt’s glass, Joss explained brusquely, “Aunt Lydia objected because we married young.”
Lydia gave a conspiratorial nod. “She was only nineteen.”
“Oh.” He nodded discreetly.
“What do you mean, oh? I wasn’t…” Joss whispered, “Pregnant.”
“Of course, I didn’t—”
“I wasn’t.” Her abruptness snapped his attention back to her. “We loved each other. We wanted to spend the rest of our lives together.” She glanced at her aunt. “My family knew he didn’t approve of them. And I didn’t know…” She blinked back sudden tears. “We thought we’d have more time.”
The last thing he’d wanted was to upset her. He understood too well.
“I suppose,” she continued, “you were sensible and waited to marry.”
“I was twenty six.” If only he’d married at a younger age, he would have enjoyed more time with Karen. Maybe things might have turned out differently. Or maybe it would have ended sooner. Whatever powers controlled the universe had a hand in his life and were beyond his control.
“How long were you married?” Joss asked.
“Eleven years.”
“No kids?”
Why did she seem disappointed? Did she think he didn’t like children? Another confusing aspect about her to ponder.
“We were waiting until both our careers were on a steady track.” A nerve pulsed in his jaw. “I thought I’d planned out our lives.” A foolish notion.
“None of us can plan for tragedy,” she said softly. “I wish I could be young and daring again.”
“You’ve accomplished quite a bit in less than a year. You still have youthful tenacity.”
“Jocelyn’s talents and skills are extraordinary,” Lydia cut in. “No small thanks to our family connections.”
Joss glared. “Stop, Aunt Lydia.”
A rumble sounded. He scanned the sky. It held only a few wispy clouds. Strange. “Connections?”
“Never mind. My aunt is apparently on a fishing expedition.”
Confusion at her response caused him to frown. “I don’t follow.”
Abruptly, she turned. “I have to see to the other guests.”
Mouth agape, whatever argument formed in his head against her leaving came out as a croak. Hadn’t they been having a real conversation, finally? Somehow in the space between him and her, its meaning twisted into something different than he’d intended.
Her aunt tsk’d. “I don’t know why she defends him. John never understood.”
Neither did Eric, and something warned him against prying any further, though Lydia wouldn’t need much encouragement. “Excuse me.”
On the pretense of using the restroom, he wandered inside, hoping to run into Joss. No luck, so he went out again, keeping a wide berth between him and the aunt.
Being in a crowd didn’t lessen Eric’s loneliness. Surrounding himself with acquaintances didn’t fill the void. He wished he could be with someone he loved.
Joss.
* * * *
Eric’s groan caught Joss like an invisible tether, though her head still buzzed like angry bees. Why would her aunt discuss such personal matters, with Eric of all people? Lydia hid something more than tarot cards up her sleeve. Discussing her marriage to John had reopened old wounds, the raw pain creeping up on her again.
A dangerous way to be, apparently. It had opened up more than old wounds, judging by the ley lines’ rumbling. She’d have to be careful, or she’d scare away her guests.
Her insides tightened as she walked away, as if the tether between them reeled her back. She shook it off. Now was not the time to think of Eric. She had responsibilities. After a glance, she reminded herself again. He watched with a different sort of intensity. It slowed time, stretched to its fullest, filling the moment. It took her breath away.
And her coordination. When she swung her head forward again, her shoulder slammed into a guest.
“I’m so sorry.” Joss hurried across the patio. Someone called her name and asked for another drink. Bracing herself with a breath, she forced a smile. “Here you go. Did you h
ave enough to eat? We’ll have desserts out soon.”
Annie appeared at her side. “How’s it going?” Her gaze flicked to where Eric sat, and a knowing look settled on her face.
“Fine.” She squared her shoulders.
“Do we need anything?”
“Let’s go check.” It would give her a chance to clear her head.
“Everyone looks full and happy. Something about your lemonade makes them act drunk, without the sloppy part.”
“Good.” Then it was doing its job.
Without moving her lips, Annie murmured, “So what’s up with him?”
“Him?” She feigned ignorance.
Annie’s attempt to say “the vet” came out garbled.
Joss huffed in embarrassment. “Oh I practically bit his head off.”
“Why? What happened?”
“Lydia happened.” And Joss had tapped into the underground energy without meaning to.
“What did she tell him?”
“She said John and I weren’t soul mates.” Her whine reminded her of Kyle’s, when he was three.
“Oh.” Annie busied herself lifting chafing dish lids.
“Don’t tell me you think so, too.” Joss once loved him with all her heart.
“Well…” Her friend winced, backed toward the door, and opened it.
Joss followed her inside. “Oh, Annie. Never mind, it doesn’t matter.”
“I know how much you loved him. And I’m sorry you’re still hurting. You’ll find someone wonderful, though. I know it.” Turning playful, she giggled. “Maybe someone here today.”
“I’m in no hurry to find anyone. And if you’re referring to the man speaking to my aunt, he’s too young.”
“How young is too young?”
“He can’t be much older than forty.” Verbalizing it made it almost seem a punishable offense.
Annie laughed. “So?”
“So I’m forty-four.” And getting older every day.
Her friend blew raspberries. “Less than five years difference.”
“In another ten years, it will seem much worse.” A few gray strands already mingled with her golden hair.
“You’re a very young forty-four. You’re vivacious and beautiful.”
Joss waved away the compliment. “Stop.”
