by Jayne Castle
Rachel smiled. “I know.”
“If there’s any trouble, he can be back here within a few hours.”
“Reassuring,” Rachel said.
“So that’s what didn’t happen last night, hmm?” Charlotte gave her an assessing look. “A little lasagna and some delicate blackmail.”
“That’s about it, I’m afraid.” Rachel picked up her teacup. She decided not to mention the kiss in the kitchen. Not like it amounted to much, she thought.
“Well, as it happens,” Charlotte said, “I’ve got a little gossip to give you.”
“Sounds good,” Rachel said. “Let’s have it.”
Charlotte shook her head. “You were never meant to be a member of the HE community, were you?”
“Hey, according to the Principles, all knowledge is enlightening. As far as I’m concerned, that includes gossip.”
“In this case, what I have to tell you may balance the harmonic scales a little because it concerns Harry.” Charlotte lowered her voice even though there was no one else in the shop. “Slade did a background check on him as soon as he learned that Harry was the security expert the Foundation was sending to the island.”
A flicker of unease ruffled Rachel’s senses. “What did he find out?”
“Harry Sebastian was married in a Full Covenant Marriage wedding ceremony two years ago.”
The floor fell away beneath Rachel’s feet. The shock took her breath and left her dazed. How could she have been so wrong about Harry Sebastian? She struggled to come to grips with the reality of what Charlotte had just said.
“Are you sure there isn’t some mistake?” she whispered. “I got the impression that he wasn’t married, not even a Marriage of Convenience.”
“He’s not married,” Charlotte said. “At least, not any longer.”
Rachel managed to breathe. “Widowed?”
“No. Three weeks after the wedding, Harry’s wife filed for divorce.”
Rachel felt as if she had fallen into a very deep hole, yet again.
“Oh my,” she managed. “Leaving aside the issue of the scandal involved, divorce is a legal and financial nightmare.”
“Yes, it is.”
“It must have cost a fortune.”
“I’m sure it did. But the Sebastians happen to have a fortune. Harry is very wealthy in his own right.”
Rachel drank more tea and lowered the cup slowly. “There aren’t many grounds for divorce. The ones that do exist are narrow and quite strict.”
“In this case we can rule out most of them. Both parties were well above the age of consent. There was no mental illness and it was not a case of bigamy. Neither individual was already married to someone else.”
Rachel shook her head, more bewildered than shocked now. “Then what in the world were the grounds?”
“Get this,” Charlotte said. “Evidently the divorce was granted under the new laws providing for the dissolution of a marriage in cases of intolerable psychical incompatibility. Harry’s wife asked the court to grant the divorce on the grounds that the nature of Harry’s talent caused her to fear for her safety and her sanity.”
Rachel sniffed. “Well, that’s pure ghost-shit.”
Charlotte cleared her throat. “I beg your pardon? Did I just hear you use the term ghost-shit?”
“Being raised HE doesn’t mean I don’t know the language.”
“Obviously.”
“The bride must have come down with a very bad case of bridal jitters after the ceremony,” Rachel said. “Terrible timing on her part. I would have thought that she would have figured out that she didn’t want to marry Harry at some point during the engagement.”
“The engagement was quite short. It lasted only a couple of months. Harry and his bride did not meet through a matchmaking agency.”
“Probably because no agency would take Harry on as a client,” Rachel said. “His talent is a little unusual.”
“Tell me about it,” Charlotte said. “You’re talking to a woman who was declared unmatchable by every agency in Frequency City, remember?”
“I remember.”
“Whatever the case, the marriage ended three weeks after the wedding. The whole thing was handled as discreetly as possible, but divorce always leaves a social stigma.”
“In this case it was Harry who took the hit, though,” Rachel said.
“Yes. The ex-wife came through it all unscathed. She was the innocent, injured party. In fact, she is now engaged to another man. This time she found someone through an agency.”
“Poor Harry.”
“Excuse me? Poor Harry?”
“For the rest of his life he’ll be the guy whose wife divorced him because he scared the living daylights out of her,” Rachel said.
“Hard accusation for a man to live down, that’s for sure. If he was unmatchable before the divorce, he’s got no chance of finding an agency who will take him on as a client now.”
Rachel drummed her fingers on the counter and thought about the heat that had swirled in the kitchen last night when Harry had kissed her.
“Something tells me there’s more to the story,” she said.
The bell over the door tinkled again. Harry walked into the shop with Slade Attridge. The energy of the men’s powerful auras charged the atmosphere of the small space. A pair of hunters, Rachel thought.
Rex chortled a greeting from the windowsill and flapped his clutch a few times.
Charlotte spun around on the stool to face Slade.
“Hey there, handsome,” she said in a mockingly sultry voice. “Come here often?”
“Mostly when I know you’re here,” Slade said. He crossed the bookshop into the café and kissed Charlotte. It was a quick, proprietary kiss that left no doubt as to the powerful bond and the sense of commitment between the two of them.
Rachel was intensely aware of the energy in the atmosphere around the pair. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that Harry was suddenly very absorbed in a painting of the tiny town of Shadow Bay that was hanging on the wall. She knew that he, too, sensed the currents that swirled in the room. The psychic bond between Slade and Charlotte was so strong that even those with a minimal amount of awareness could sense it. Certainly everyone on the island was convinced that the two were meant for each other.
According to the Principles, love was the most powerful of all energies. It ran the gamut of the spectrum from the normal zone all the way into the furthest reaches of the paranormal. Rachel could believe that when she watched Slade and Charlotte together.
True, the process of falling in love had been rocky for them. They had met as teens one summer here on Rain-shadow, but life had taken them in different directions for several years. When they had returned to the island as adults, however, they had rediscovered each other. There had been one or two other small glitches—someone had tried to kill them, and Slade had discovered that all was not going well somewhere deep in the heart of the Preserve.
Still, there was a wedding in the offing, and Rachel was thrilled for both of them. They deserved their happiness. Charlotte and Slade had found something very precious and very rare—a love that would endure and grow ever stronger as the years passed.
A tingle of awareness flittered through Rachel. Intuition made her glance at Harry. He was no longer studying the painting. He was watching her with a thoughtful—one could even say suspicious—expression.
Darwina and Rex were watching her, too. They blinked their baby blues and did their best to look adorable. They didn’t have to try hard, she thought. Dust bunnies, in general, tended to look cute in a scruffy sort of way—at least until they went into hunting mode. As the old saying went, by the time you saw the teeth it was too late.
“You’re in luck,” she told them. She went to the end of the counter and removed the glass dome lid off the tray that she used to display cookies and treats. “I’ve got exactly two of yesterday’s batch of chocolate-coffee zingers left.”
Nearly delirious
with excitement, Rex left his precious clutch on the windowsill and launched himself across the floor. He catapulted up onto the counter. Rachel handed him the cookies. He seized them in his front paws and rushed back to the windowsill. He gallantly offered one of the treats to Darwina.
“Great,” Slade said. “Just what a dust bunny needs, chocolate laced with caffeine. They’ll both be bouncing off the walls.”
Harry watched Rex and Darwina devour the cookies. “Probably a good thing I’m from Rainshadow Foundation security and not from the Board of Health. I’m not sure the health inspectors would approve of dust bunnies dining in a public restaurant.”
“The public health authorities aren’t a big problem for us here on the island,” Slade said. “The nearest inspector is stationed over on the mainland in Frequency City. We don’t see much of him. In fact, we don’t see a lot of officials of any kind around here. When it comes to enforcing local laws and ordinances, the Rainshadow Police Department is all there is.”
Harry gave him an amused, knowing look. “That would be you and your two-person department.”
Slade smiled, coolly satisfied. “Yes, it would.” He turned back to Charlotte. “All set over at Looking Glass?”
“Yes,” she said. “Jasper is going to watch my shop while we’re off the island. I just gave him the keys.”
“In that case, it’s time you and I went home and grabbed our bags.” Slade glanced at his watch. “Next ferry leaves in an hour.” He looked at Harry. “We’re scheduled to be out of town for a week. After I meet Charlotte’s relatives, we’re going to attend the wedding of some friends of mine, Marlowe Jones and Adam Winters. You’ve probably heard of them.”
“I’d have to have been living in a cave not to have heard of them,” Harry said. “According to the media, they saved the Underworld and, possibly, all four city-states, as well. That makes for a lot of press.”
Rachel whistled softly and propped her elbows on the counter. “I’m impressed with your social connections, Slade. Adam Winters is the boss of the Frequency City Guild, and Marlowe Jones is from an old Arcane family. That is going to be a huge wedding. Full-on traditional Guild ceremony combined with all the trappings of a high-ranking Arcane Society affair. I can’t wait to see pictures of Marlowe Jones’s dress.”
“Trust me, I don’t usually move in those circles,” Slade said. He looked grim. “And I can think of a lot of other ways that I would rather spend that particular afternoon, but Winters and I go way back.”
Charlotte patted his arm and looked at Rachel and Harry. “Slade is grousing because it means he has to buy a tux.”
“Think of the bright side, Slade,” Rachel said, “you’ll have the tux available for your own wedding.”
Slade visibly cheered. “Good point.” He turned back to Harry. “Officer Willis is covering for me while I’m off-island. If you need anything, just ask. He’s solid. Learns fast but he’s young and hasn’t had a lot of experience. If you think you’re going to require more backup than he can handle, call me. I can get here within a few hours either by ferry or float plane.”
“Sure,” Harry said. “But this is just an initial security assessment. I won’t take any action until I get a handle on what’s happening inside the Preserve. That will probably take a few days.”
“You’ve got the files I pulled for you and my notes,” Slade said. “If you need anything else, Myrna Reed at the station will get it for you.”
“Thanks,” Harry said. “I appreciate that.”
Rachel was amused. “Don’t worry, Slade. Rainshadow will survive without you for a few days.”
“The question is, will I survive the meeting-the-relatives marathon,” Slade said. He scooped Rex off the windowsill. “See you all next week.”
“Bye,” Rachel said. “Have fun meeting the parents and all the rest of the in-laws.”
Slade narrowed his eyes. “Can’t wait.”
Charlotte laughed. “You’re an ex–FBPI agent. You can handle anything, including my family.”
“Not unless we get moving,” Slade said. “We now have forty-five minutes to grab the bags and make the ferry.”
He ushered Charlotte out the door and then all three of them were gone. Rachel found herself alone with Harry.
“Coffee?” she asked.
He glanced at the elegantly lettered menu of tea and coffee drinks that hung on the wall. “It says that something called Harmony Tea is your specialty. ‘Specially blended to enhance the unique harmonic resonance of the aura.’”
She went still, her intuition flaring. “Harmony Tea is very popular with the tourists. I sell a lot to the locals as well. But this morning at breakfast you told me that you prefer coffee.”
“I drank that green tea you served.”
“Because it was all I had on hand.”
“Slade gave me coffee when we met at the station. I’ve had my fix. I’m ready to try a cup of Harmony Tea.”
She tapped one finger on the counter. “This is a test, isn’t it? You want to find out if I really can use crystals to read auras or if I’m a fraud.”
“A lot of people can see auras or at least sense the energy of them,” Harry said gently. “But reading them and interpreting them is a very different level of talent.”
“Is that so?” she said very politely.
“Can you really do it?” he asked. “Read and interpret auras?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“How about mine?”
“What about it?” She was all innocence now.
“Can you read it?”
“Nope. I can see it but not very clearly.”
He frowned. “So the whole aura-reading thing is just a sales gimmick to sell tea?”
“The reason I can’t read your aura at the moment is because it’s still daylight outside. You’re a true shadow-aura. That means it’s a lot easier to read you at night.”
Harry looked amused. She had to hand it to him—he didn’t miss a beat.
“Nice try,” he said. “But we both know that there is no such thing.”
“I admit that you’re the first one I’ve ever encountered, but we studied the phenomenon at the Academy. The para-bio-physics involved is fairly simple. The ultra-light in your aura simply comes from the far end of the spectrum, which makes it very hard to detect. Only a very strong aura reader can perceive it.”
Harry did not stir but there was a sudden chill in the atmosphere. “What makes you think I’m a shadow?”
“Well, among other things, I did see your aura quite clearly last night,” she said, exasperated.
“Shadow-auras are supposed to be invisible.”
“To most people, maybe, but not me.” She realized she was getting irritated. “Look, I’m not in the mood to be tested. I don’t have to prove anything, certainly not to you. If you aren’t convinced that I’ve got the kind of ability you need to assist you in your investigation, just say so. No hard feelings on my part, believe me.”
“I’ll take some of your special blended tea,” he said quietly.
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not giving it away for free, you know.”
She winced as soon as the words were out of her mouth.
But Harry merely inclined his head politely. “I understand.”
“I’m running a business here,” she added somewhat gruffly.
“I know.”
“There’s an extra charge for one of my special blends.” She gestured toward the fine print on the menu board.
“I think I can afford it,” he said.
It was a challenge. She knew she could not resist.
“Okay,” she said. “All right.”
She turned, rezzed a little talent, and began selecting jars from the array on the back counter. There was no recipe for what she was about to do because shadow-auras were so rare that no one at the Academy had been able to run any experiments. But her intuition and training guided her toward some of the more exotic psi-infused ingredients in her exte
nsive collection.
She went to work, putting pinches of dried herbs from several different jars into a glass pot. She was aware that Harry was watching her every move.
“I’m not planning to poison you,” she said, not bothering to turn around.
“But you could if you wanted to?” He didn’t sound worried. He sounded interested.
“Sure.” She took the kettle off the stove just before the water boiled. The herbs she had chosen were delicate and subtle. Boiling water would shock them and lessen their restorative effects. “But I’d have to deal with the psychic fallout afterward and that would be a real pain. No telling how many hours of crystal meditation it would take to rebalance my harmonic energies.”
“Good to know you’re not real enthusiastic about slipping me a little poison.”
“I’ve got better things to do. At least at this moment.” She poured the hot water carefully into the glass pot. “You do realize that when the word gets out that you’re looking for suspects among the locals you’re going to run into a few issues. There are some very odd and reclusive residents here on Rainshadow. They consider their secrets and their privacy sacrosanct. If you try to question them, they’re as likely as not to meet you at the front door with a mag-rez pistol or a really big knife.”
“I’m aware of that problem. Slade briefed me on the local customs and attitudes toward authorities. That’s another reason why I’d prefer to work through you when I interview the locals. Everyone around here seems to trust you.”
She glanced at the row of glass tea and herb canisters that lined one wall. “It’s probably the tea. Word has gotten around the island that my blends are special. People like them.”
“In other words, you’re the local dealer.”
She raised her brows. “You could say that. But in case you’re wondering, nothing I sell in this shop is on any government agency’s list of banned or regulated drugs.”
“This isn’t tea-growing country. Where do you get your supplies?”
“The traditional teas come from the usual commercial vendors on the mainland. But I pick a lot of the herbs that I use in my special blends here on the island.”
“Where, as Slade pointed out, the various government agencies don’t have a presence.”
