by Kathy Dexter
RIPPLES
IN THE SHADOWS
A Mystic Lake Tale
Book 2
KATHY DEXTER
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual places, events, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by Kathy Dexter
Cover Art by Hampton Lamoureux
All rights reserved. No part of this work may be used or reproduced by any means manner without the written permission of the author.
CHAPTER 1
M IRRORED BALLS SPRINKLED the costumed creatures with flecks of light. Laughter and animated conversations echoed in the high-ceilinged room. As though prepared for a ravenous bite of his partner’s neck, Dracula snuggled with Tinker Bell. Nearby, Wonder Woman kept a werewolf under control with her Bracelets of Submission. Medusa waltzed with Spiderman. Fairies, goblins, witches, and other magical beings from folklore, movies and books whirled about the dance floor. A kaleidoscopic gathering for Mystic Lake’s All Hallow's Eve Masquerade Ball at the Museum of Magic.
Hunter Sloane stroked the sapphire dragon amulet that always dangled about her neck. A light pulsing against her fingertips warned of a shift in the room's aura. Undercurrents of something awry. Crazy that anything could be wrong on such a festive evening. Besides, she didn’t know most of these people, couldn’t read their thoughts. She scanned the room anyway, her glance catching her image in the wall of mirrors.
Her red-gold hair curled along the v-neck of the shimmery silver and black tunic, tightened with a wide sapphire belt. Black knee-high boots and sapphire circlets around her upper arms completed her costume.
“My designer pal did a terrific job with these duds, didn’t he?” Allison Boone, Hunter’s friend and literary agent, patted her on the back with a furry blue paw.
Hunter smiled, pleased. “He took the artwork from the book’s cover and made my characters come to life.”
“Even though I’m not as big as Syrena’s pet dragon, I think Clyde captured Henry’s essence.” Picking up her blue tail, Ally twirled around.
Hunter was impressed with Clyde’s ingenuity. “Pure inspiration to design the dragon’s head as a hat.”
“Yeah, if I had to wear a full costume like those team mascots do, I’d be sweating and uncomfortable. This gives me a chance to flirt with my dance partners.” She pulled a hidden mechanism and the giant eyes in her hat blinked.
Hunter laughed. “I’m so glad you thought of these, Ally.”
“Great PR for your book tour.” Ally slid her hazel eyes sideways. “Although your aunt Miranda didn’t seem pleased. She so wanted you to wear that bulky Cinderella ball gown.”
“You spoiled her plans. As you love to do.”
“Who, me?” Ally fluttered the giant eyelids. “Where is Miss Grumpy Puss, anyway?”
“Over there.” Hunter nodded toward Glinda the good witch.
Black curls, instead of the traditional blond ones, cascaded around Aunt Miranda’s bare shoulders. Her silver gown’s tight corset and low-cut décolletage accentuated her svelte figure. The skirt flared into multiple layers of glittery blue-tinted fabric, too much like the ball gown she’d wanted Hunter to wear. A golden crown perfectly highlighted Miranda’s commanding figure.
“I see she’s got the men drooling. Quite the stunner at forty-eight, isn’t she?” Ally commented. “I love that perfume she wears.”
“Lotus and sandalwood. It’s the only scent she uses.” Hunter had attempted to give her aunt a different one on occasion. Miranda smiled and thanked her but never wore it.
“Something special?”
“My mother created it for her a long time ago. I believe Miranda wears it in memory of the twin sister she’ll never see again.”
“Never thought of Miranda as sentimental, but then I’ve never had a sister.” Ally hugged Hunter. “You’re the closest thing.”
Hunter hugged her back. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Ally swatted at her eyes with a blue paw. She pointed in Miranda’s direction. “Who’s the guy wearing the Merlin costume?”
Hunter squinted to get a better look at the man in the long black robe covered in purple stars and silver moon slices. Apparently he’d decided not to wear the traditional white beard. “Good old Dr. Paul. He’s never far from my aunt.”
“They’re pretty chummy on the dance floor.” Ally gave an exaggerated Henry wink.
“She didn’t tell me she’d invited him.” Hunter shouldn’t have been surprised; her aunt often kept her in the dark about her plans. A habit which had grown more irritating lately.
“Hey, here comes that hunky Green Lantern who’s hovered around you all evening. Time for Henry to disappear.” Ally galloped off to join the crowd at the bar.
“A friend of yours?” Green Lantern handed her a glass of punch. His form-fitting viridian outfit clung from muscled shoulders to slim hips like a second skin. The green mask accentuated his high cheekbones and full lips. No wonder the other women in the room gazed at him with hungry eyes.
As she accepted the beverage, Hunter’s fingers touched his and an electrical current pulsed through her, surprised her. She took a step back and focused on his question.
“Allison Boone,” Hunter said. “I’ll introduce you later.” How? She only knew him as the comic book hero. Why the heck hadn’t they mentioned their real-world names? Her lips quirked with amusement. “It would help if I knew the man inside the costume.”
He grinned. “Never told you, did I? Logan West.”
“And I’m––”
“Hunter Sloane. Author of my brother’s favorite book, The Sapphire Dragon.”
“How did you know?”
“Picture on the back cover. And you’re dressed as the heroine Syrena. Yes, I’ve read the book, too.” His eyes glinted with humor as he leaned close to murmur in her ear. “Last dance before the witching hour? Before I have to go.”
“Like Cinderella?” she teased. “Shouldn’t I be using that line?”
“I don’t see you as that kind of heroine. She relied on a fairy godmother and a prince to save her. Too passive a woman for me. She should have fought for what she wanted.”
“You think I’m a fighter?”
“You created Syrena, a woman willing to risk everything. You couldn’t have written her that way if you didn’t believe such a quality to be fundamental.” His green eyes gleamed in ways that made her heart race and awakened something deep within that had slept far too long. On the other hand, she didn’t believe in love at first sight, not after some of her less pleasant experiences with the male of the species. Yet something about him––his voice, the way he moved––seemed vaguely familiar. “Maybe we better dance.”
“Or perhaps a little fresh air instead,” he suggested.
Before she knew it, he’d grabbed Syrena’s cape and brought her through the French doors to the flagstone verandah overlooking the lake. Even now the water's siren call drew her in ways she didn't understand. She'd felt the tug ever since she'd arrived in town for the party.
The sound of high-pitched laughter, jumbled chatter, clinking glasses and the band tuning up for its next set contrasted with winds whistling among the maple trees edging the lake. In the darkening night sky, thunder rumbled. Billowing clouds scuttled across the moon.
Hunter shivered. Her costume was a little thin for such a crisp evening. Lucky for her, the cape was warmly lined.
“Too cold?” Green Lantern drew her into his arms. “I wanted a quiet moment where I could say goodbye in private.” He leaned down until his lips caressed hers, warming her more thoroughly than any cloak could.
The kiss deepened into something more intense. More than she was willing to
deal with right now. Leaning back, Hunter broke the connection. She’d worked too hard to free herself of other people’s expectations to let this stranger find a way into her heart.
“I don’t usually bulldoze my way into a woman’s affections. Forgive me if I overstepped.” A suspicious glimmer of something akin to amusement gleamed through the eye holes in Green Lantern’s mask. Then he brushed his lips across her hair, her cheek, her lips. “Sorry I have to leave. Off to work.”
Heigh-ho, heigh-ho. “Like the seven dwarfs? They mined during daylight hours.”
“Late shift tonight. I’ll take you back to the ballroom.”
“I’d rather stay out here a little longer.”
He hurried toward the French doors, turned back to give her a salute, then disappeared inside. Prince Charming fleeing the scene instead of Cinderella.
Reluctant to return to the noise and revelry of the party, Hunter walked down the steps toward the water. She had a lot to think about.
Now that she’d arrived in Mystic Lake, she must start the search for information about her past. She’d grown up here. Her parents had died here.
She wasn’t returning in order to relive old memories, but to find them.
The loss of her parents had been so traumatic, according to Aunt Miranda and the doctors, that all traces of Hunter’s life in Mystic Lake had been wiped from her brain. What happened ten years ago to that fifteen-year-old girl to induce an amnesia that had never gone away? Whenever Hunter attempted to twitch aside the black curtain, she suffered horrendous headaches and ominous nightmares.
The doctors had given her some gobbledygook about remembering on her own when she was emotionally ready. The psychobabble chafed at her longing to get rid of the black curtain, a desire grown more urgent lately as the physical ailments and painful dreams worsened. The nightly torments always honed in on her parents’ deaths. She’d wake up soaked in sweat, unable to recall details. Had her brain shut down, refused to open up and give her back her memories, because she’d witnessed what happened and couldn’t handle it? Her worst fear was that somehow she’d been responsible.
Desperate for answers, she had Ally add Mystic Lake to the book tour. Aunt Miranda had fought her on that one, insisting it wasn’t safe. A place which had caused so much mental anguish that Hunter had almost suffered some kind of psychotic break, according to her aunt and Dr. Paul.
Safe. A concept Miranda had drilled into her for ten years. Because she wanted to protect the last of her family.
Hunter had grown weary of being safe. She wanted answers. What if she couldn’t find them? Maybe her aunt was right and Hunter should move on, forget finding her past. Forget. Ha! Pretty ironic.
The creaking of the French doors interrupted Hunter’s brooding soul-searching. She turned around to see a small boy, maybe nine or ten, dressed as Harry Potter, swing a door all the way open, then step out on the verandah. He swiveled back and forth until he saw her. “Syrena!” He ran down the steps toward her.
He shouldn’t be out here alone. “Do your parents know where you are?”
“I told Clarissa I wanted to say hello to Syrena. My name’s Theo.” He held out a hand.
Hunter shook it. “Pleased to meet you, Theo. It’s a little chilly out here. How about we go inside and have some hot chocolate together?”
Theo crooked his elbow so she could put her arm through. “This way, Syrena.”
Hunter concealed her smile and curtsied. “You make a terrific escort.”
The crackle of splintering twigs startled her. Breaking free from its cloudy prison, the moon revealed two human shapes, blacker than the night sky, stumbling from a back door on the far side of the verandah, unwieldy objects in their arms.
Thieves? Stealing with all these people about? Did they have guns? Panic shuddered along her spine.
“I’ve got to go tell my brother about those men,” Theo whispered.
She tried to grab him, pull him into the shadows where he wouldn’t be seen, but he moved too fast. He kept low, running for the stairs, but he slipped on a rock and fell.
One of the robbers grabbed him. “Look what I caught. A spy!”
“Let me go!” Theo shouted. He bit the hand holding him.
The thief howled in pain and released his prisoner. Theo tumbled to the ground.
“We gotta get outta here!” the other thief hissed.
“Not ’til I take care of that kid,” the wounded one growled.
Hunter couldn’t let that happen. She didn’t have time to even shout for help. Desperate, she clutched the blue dragon. She’d never tested the full potency of the amulet. Could she do it?
She waved her hand and sent the two men flying into the high branches of a tree on the edge of the woods.
Hunter almost collapsed with a breathy swoosh of relief. “Run!” she screamed at the boy.
Theo stared at her. “You have magic. Just like me.”
“Run!” she yelled again.
Someone grabbed her from behind and flung her toward the stone steps. A third burglar? When she crunched against the rocky stairs, she cried out in pain and her hand lost contact with the dragon.
Theo had reached the open French doors when a blur of white fur flew past him. With only a deep snarl as a warning, the cat crouched low to the ground, then leaped into the air and landed on the neck of Hunter’s attacker. A claw swiped across the crook’s ski mask and ripped it open, exposing the man’s neck. Sharp nails dug into the spider web tattoo.
The crook roared, grabbed white fur and flung the cat away from him.
Hunter scrambled to her feet. Despite the pain in her arm, she grasped the amulet again. This time bolts of heated current zapped the running crook. Her aim off the mark, the voltage struck the back of the man’s legs. He tumbled, cursing. The two in the tree clambered down, gripped their cohort, and yanked him to his feet.
Hunter rushed after them, aimed the dragon for another volley, but stumbled over the loot they’d dropped. Strong arms caught her before she fell. She fought back, pummeling wherever she could.
A voice, muffled but familiar, groaned. “I surrender.”
Green Lantern? No longer in costume, he wore dark slacks, gray shirt and tie. “What are you doing?” she hissed.
“Trying to save you.” Logan disentangled himself, pulled out his gun and aimed at the three burglars.
“Police!” he yelled. “Stop, or I'll shoot.”
The men hesitated a moment, then raced into the woods.
“Stay put,” he ordered Hunter and ran after them.
Hunter bristled at following someone else’s orders and leaped up to follow. Pain stabbed through her shoulder. Dizzy, she sat back down among stolen objects scattered across the lawn. A lot of bulky items, including pictures and a multitude of books. Valuable? When the amulet pulsated, Hunter’s eyes widened in surprise. She struggled to her feet and moved closer to the thieves’ haul. The dragon’s heat intensified as she shifted some of the volumes, glowing more brightly when she found a large one. The Original Collection of the Brothers Grimm. She cracked it open, then drew in a sharp breath. Nestled inside was a small, thin book.
Hunter felt its ragged edges and roughened leather cover. A blue glow from her amulet surrounded the diary-sized book. A sign? She clutched it, knowing somehow it was important. To her.
Something rustled in the brush near the woods.
Heart fluttering, Hunter scanned the museum grounds. The moon spotlighted Logan jogging empty-handed through the shadows toward her.
Hunter slipped the book into her cape’s secret pocket.
CHAPTER 2
H UNTER LEANED ON LOGAN, her shoulder throbbing. Had she broken the arm? She steeled herself, knowing this would mean another battle with her aunt. She pushed out a shaky breath.
Bypassing the French doors and the crowd inside, Logan led Hunter to a side entrance and into a small area off the ballroom. He sat her on a sofa and checked her arm, his touch gentle. “Doesn’t seem to
be broken, but I’ll send someone in to check.”
Seconds after he left, Max Winters, curator of the Museum of Magic and organizer of the ball, hurried in. Only five feet tall, lips buried in a white beard and moustache, and large pointed ears, he wiped a bald head. “Logan told me thieves tried to rob the museum and attacked you. Shall I call an ambulance?”
“I’ll be fine,” Hunter assured him.
“Clarissa’s gone home to get some of her remedies. She’ll be here soon.” His shoulders slumped, as though he carried a heavy burden.
Aunt Miranda strode into the room, her voice sharp. “You look like you’ve been rolling in the mud, Hunter. What happened?”
Max held up a hand and whispered, “Not so loud, Miss Hawthorne. We don’t want to alarm our guests.”
“Alarm them about what?”
Max told her as Logan returned.
“Why don’t you set off the fireworks out front, Max?” Logan said. “Maintains the party atmosphere while diverting attention from the back.”
“Great idea. I'll see to it immediately.”
“Once you do that, I'll cordon off the area. I’ve called my men and they’ll be here soon to conduct a search and gather evidence.”
Max raised a hand in protest. “But––”
“I’ll be discreet,” Logan interrupted. “For now. The forensics team has to do their work before the curious contaminate the scene.” He squatted by Hunter’s side so they were eye to eye. “I'll be back.”
“What about a doctor for my niece?” Miranda demanded.
Logan and the curator had already disappeared out the door.
“It’s only a scrape.” A lie, but something to keep her aunt at bay.
Miranda snorted. “You have a medical degree?”
Hunter closed her eyes to shut out the picture of her aunt’s glower as she paced the tiny room. Too bad Hunter couldn’t mute the click of angry heels on the polished tile floor.
“I warned you that coming here was a terrible idea.” Hot steel seared Aunt Miranda’s words.
