Charmed (Second Sight)

by Hunter, Hazel

  CONTENTS

  Title

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Note from the Author

  Amazon Links

  Copyright

  CHARMED

  A SECOND SIGHT NOVELLA

  Book 5

  By Hazel Hunter

  CHAPTER ONE

  KAYLA’S SHOCKED FACE said what Isabelle had felt–happiness mixed with anger at the news that Daniel was alive.

  “But…” Kayla said.

  The large window’s vertical blinds were drawn against the bright, morning sun and the overhead light had been dimmed. The fluorescent light at the head of the hospital bed cast harsh shadows down Kayla’s face. Isabelle glanced across the bed at Mac. In the subdued light, his white shirt nearly glowed against the black of his suit and tie. Special Agent Gavin “Mac” MacMillan was in uniform. Though his eyes were shadowed, Isabelle still read concern, in the tiny furrow between his eyebrows and the grim set of his lips.

  Before coming to the hospital they’d talked about the timing of letting Kayla know. Her stay had been extended because of postpartum hypertension. But Isabelle had reasoned that, if it were her, she’d want to know that the father of her newborn son was alive–especially when she’d thought he’d been dead for the last several months.

  “I read him,” Isabelle said, taking the photo from her purse and handing it to Kayla. “In this.”

  Kayla took the black and white photo of her with Daniel, staring at it wide-eyed.

  “Oh my god,” she whispered. “But how?”

  Isabelle knew that Kayla didn’t question the reading. Isabelle’s gift of second sight–reading the past in people and objects–had already surfaced and begun to change her life when they’d first met. Kayla wasn’t asking how she knew. She was asking how Daniel could possibly be alive when he was supposed to have died in a car crash.

  “I don’t know,” Isabelle said. “I just know that the last person to touch that photo was Daniel. He picked it up from the trash and then dropped it back in when someone was coming.”

  “But why?” Kayla said. “Why pretend to be dead?” She shook her head. “No. That can’t be it. But…” Suddenly, Kayla clutched Isabelle’s gloved hand, where it rest on the bed rail. “You have to find him.”

  Kayla grabbed Mac’s sleeve.

  “Please,” she said. “Something’s wrong. I know it.”

  Mac gently took her hand in both of his. The last thing they wanted to do was raise her blood pressure.

  “It’s good news, Kayla,” he said, his voice deep and reassuring. “Try not to worry.”

  “But–”

  “I’ll find him,” Isabelle said, squeezing Kayla’s hand. “Relax, Kayla. I promise you. I’ll find him.”

  And though her voice was calm and quiet, Isabelle felt the same dread as Kayla. Something was wrong and Daniel was in the middle of it. She rubbed the back of Kayla’s hand and smiled.

  “Thank you,” Kayla said, tearing up. She glanced from her to Mac and then back again. “I already owe you so much.”

  The wild car ride down the twisting curves and bends of Topanga Canyon when Kayla had given birth in the car flashed into Isabelle’s mind.

  Just then, the door opened and light flooded into the room.

  “Oh, look who’s here,” said Susan, backing into the room. As she turned, her face beaming, she cradled a little bundle in her arms.

  “Mom,” Kayla said. “Daniel’s alive.”

  “Oh,” Susan said, without missing a beat. “That’s too bad.” She smiled down at the little face as she adjusted the beanie cap. “Look, little Gavin,” she cooed to her grandson. “Big Gavin and Aunt Isabelle are here.”

  “Mom!” Kayla said.

  Susan ignored her, still all smiles as she gave Mac a one-armed hug and met Isabelle at the foot of the bed. They embraced briefly and Susan gave her a peck on the cheek.

  “It’s good to see you two,” Susan said. “Want to hold him?”

  But Isabelle hardly needed to answer as Susan gently laid the tiny boy in Isabelle’s arms.

  “Gavin?” Mac said as the warm bundle nested into the crook of her arm and she stared down into the face that she hardly recognized from the newborn who’d popped into her waiting hands.

  “Daniel Gavin Massen,” Kayla said.

  “I’d have preferred Gavin Daniel myself,” Susan whispered loudly to Isabelle.

  Mac stood behind her and looked over her shoulder.

  As Kayla rushed through a breathless explanation of why Isabelle and Mac were here, Isabelle couldn’t take her eyes off ‘Little Gavin.’ There was a lot of Kayla in him, the eyes and mouth especially. Mac reached around her and tickled his stomach with a giant index finger. But apparently Little Gavin wasn’t in a mood to play. His eyebrows shot up and his eyes opened a little wider and he made a whimpering noise. In only moments, he was crying.

  “Meal time,” Susan said.

  “Mom,” Kayla said, whining a little as Isabelle handed Little Gavin back to Susan. “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Clearly,” Susan said, bringing her baby to her. “Do you hear this?”

  Isabelle couldn’t help but smile at the three generations. Though Kayla had been worried about being welcome in Susan’s home or how controlling she could be, Susan had seemed to slip comfortably and quickly into grandmother mode.

  Mac tugged lightly at Isabelle’s waist. He was heading to the door.

  “Isabelle?” Kayla said.

  Isabelle turned as Kayla tucked Little Gavin up under her hospital gown and his crying suddenly stopped. Kayla’s eyes searched hers, the unasked question in her face.

  “I’ll find him,” Isabelle said. “Promise.”

  •••••

  Mac was never going to get used to LA traffic. Five lanes wide, bumper to bumper, stop and go. How did the city function?

  “Whatever happened to him,” Isabelle said. “Wherever he is, he’ll want to know he has a son.”

  “He already does,” Mac said, switching lanes–slowly.

  Isabelle shot a look at him and he glanced at her.

  The giant, bucket seat of the standard, FBI-issued, GMC SUV seemed to dwarf her petite frame. She wore the green dress today, his favorite, the hem falling to mid-thigh on her shapely legs. Her arms were crossed across her chest and, on her hands, were the gloves he’d given her. Her amber-tinted eyes stared hard into his, waiting for an answer.

  “He knew she was pregnant,” Mac said, straightening out the car briefly before crossing another lane. “It’s only a matter of looking at a calendar.”

  Isabelle frowned a little and the delicate curve of her lips drew into a line. She didn’t like that answer.

  Nor did he.

  Nothing that Isabelle had read in the photo or had ever told him about this Daniel had been good. Susan obviously didn’t care for him. Though the data was sparse, the threadbare image that was beginning to form in Mac’s mind was of someone who’d taken his pregnant girlfriend to a cult and left her there.

  “Well,” Isabelle said, staring out the windshield, “I think we need to start at the commune.”

  Mac shook his head and took the Alvarado exit.

  “Not we,” he said. “The FBI.”

  “What?” Isabelle said. “Wait–”

  “Shots were fired,”
Mac said, talking over her. “From a gun.”

  “But–”

  Rescuing a very pregnant Kayla from the Green Earth Commune had begun with a harried flight that had involved gunfire.

  “No buts,” Mac said loudly as the SUV came to a stop at the bottom of the ramp. A homeless person held up a cardboard sign wishing everyone a nice day. “It’s too dangerous,” Mac said, hanging a right.

  “I’m the one who–”

  “I know,” he said. He took her gloved hand in his as the vehicle straightened out. “Really. I do know.” They stopped at a red light. “But I can’t let you put yourself in danger.”

  “They’re not going to be interested in you,” Isabelle quickly countered. “Certainly Geoffrey won’t–”

  “We’ll send in a female agent,” Mac said.

  The light turned green and Mac had to swerve around cars that had been caught in the intersection.

  “A female agent? But that’ll take forever. I can read–”

  “Isabelle,” he said, turning on to their street. “I’m serious. Dead serious. Let me work this from the FBI side now.”

  He pulled up to the curb but she glared out the windshield, refusing to look at him.

  “Isabelle?” he tried again as the engine idled.

  She pulled her hand out of his grasp and opened the passenger door.

  “Fine,” she said curtly and closed the door.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “SO,” SAID YOLANDA with a wry smile and a twinkle in her eye. “You can’t resist a freebie.” She waved Isabelle in. “Come, come, come. Sit!”

  Isabelle hesitated at the doorstep of Yolanda’s sitting room. The crystal clear gazing ball loomed large between them. With the shades drawn and all other light absorbed by the velvet tablecloths and pillows, it seemed as though the crystal ball were spotlighted.

  “It’s not going to bite you,” Yolanda said, hands on hips. She pointed to the chair. “Sit.”

  But Isabelle wasn’t thinking about the reading.

  I shouldn’t have just shut the car door without a goodbye. She’d marched up the stairs and called Yolanda. But now, she wished she were texting Mac. Or maybe I should call him. Her palms sweat inside the gloves and her stomach flopped. But being told what to do, ordered to not help when she could, when she’d promised Kayla that she’d find Daniel–

  “Come in or don’t,” Yolanda said. “But shut the door.”

  Isabelle stepped just inside the threshold and closed the door behind her.

  “Men,” Yolanda said. “He told you not to be a psychic, didn’t he?”

  “Well, no,” Isabelle said. “Not in so many words.”

  Yolanda wasn’t exactly secretive about her failed marriages. Though she’d been alone for many years, filling her life with belly dance instruction, several cats and a number of psychic clients, Isabelle had always sensed a bitterness in the older woman, especially on the subject of men.

  “Let me guess,” said Yolanda. “And I haven’t used the ball yet,” she glanced at it. “This has to do with Susan.”

  “Not quite,” Isabelle said.

  She recounted the story of Kayla giving birth, the discovery that Daniel was still alive, and how Kayla had begged her to help.

  “And I take it Tall-Dark-and-Hunky isn’t in favor of that,” Yolanda said.

  “His name is Mac,” Isabelle said. “And he’s just trying to protect me.”

  Even as she said it, her mind flashed back to closing the car door.

  “Of course he was,” Yolanda said. “It didn’t have a thing to do with control.”

  Isabelle frowned at her.

  “No, it didn’t,” Isabelle said and she knew that, only making the flopping in her stomach worse. “Look,” she said. “I didn’t come here to talk about Mac. I want to know about Daniel.”

  Yolanda’s eyebrows arched upward.

  Isabelle shot her a look.

  “Not like that,” she said. “I want to know if I’m going to help find him. I want to know if–”

  “You should disobey or be a good little–”

  “Maybe this was a mistake,” Isabelle said.

  “No,” Yolanda said quickly, putting up her hand. “No,” she said a little more quietly and took a deep breath. She slowly let it go. “Come,” she said, indicating the chair opposite her. “Sit.”

  If Isabelle was going to the commune to look for Daniel, knowing that Mac wouldn’t like that, she wanted to know there was a reason–a good one. She took a seat.

  “But I don’t want to know about Mac and I,” Isabelle said. “Not a word.”

  Not wanting to know was an understatement. She was terrified of it.

  “It’s not exactly that easy,” Yolanda said as she took a neatly folded piece of grey felt from the edge of the table. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you.”

  Yolanda took her time cleaning the shiny orb, about the size of a bowling ball.

  “All I’m saying,” Isabelle said, the room growing steadily warmer, “is that I don’t want to know what you see if you see something about Mac. Just keep that to yourself.”

  “Why?” Yolanda said, folding the cloth. “What would it change?” She answered her own question, looking Isabelle directly in the eye. “Nothing.”

  Yolanda was supremely confident in her ability. Isabelle had learned that early on. Then again, it might be justified, especially if you were to ask a client like Susan.

  But whatever the future held for her and Mac, Isabelle couldn’t risk knowing. The possibility that she might lose him was simply not something she could confront.

  “Yolanda,” Isabelle said. “I’m serious. Keep it to yourself. Please.” Yolanda grimaced and shook her head. “Seriously,” Isabelle said quietly. “If you can’t do that, then I can’t do this.”

  Yolanda seemed to consider it, pressed her lips into a tight line, but then nodded.

  Good.

  Isabelle relaxed a little.

  Who knows, she thought. Maybe Daniel wasn’t in her future or maybe he was living somewhere in L.A. or maybe out of state. She watched as Yolanda laid her hands flat on the table to either side of the ball. Slowly, she closed her eyes. For several moments, she sat like that, perfectly still, her breathing low and shallow.

  “So, Daniel then?” Yolanda whispered, eyes still closed.

  Isabelle had jumped a little at hearing Yolanda speak.

  “Yes,” she said. “Is Daniel in my future?”

  Yolanda slowly nodded and her hands rose, drifted to the side of the gazing ball, and lightly caressed it. She smoothed her fingers around its equator and then over the top as though she were combing through someone’s hair. She repeated the procedure and then slowly opened her eyes. Isabelle had never seen Yolanda do a reading. Though she gazed into the center of the globe, her eyes seemed unfocused, pupils dilated nearly as large as the entire iris.

  Suddenly, Yolanda’s eyes flicked back and forth with tiny movements, and her mouth opened. Her fingers pressed against the sides of the crystal. Isabelle gripped the edge of her seat and leaned forward. Yolanda’s breathing ramped up and the rapid eye movements continued until Isabelle thought she might get dizzy just watching. Finally, Yolanda gasped and let the ball go, throwing her hands to the side as though it’d been made of hot metal. One hand flew to her chest and she used the other to steady herself on the table.

  “Good god!” she exclaimed. Isabelle was leaning toward her, her heart pounding. She didn’t know if this was normal for Yolanda’s readings but it didn’t seem like it. “Good god,” Yolanda whispered, staring hard at the crystal ball.

  “What?” Isabelle blurted out. “What did you see?”

  Yolanda blinked and swung her wild-eyed stare to Isabelle as though she’d forgotten she was even in the room.

  “Mac–” Yolanda began.

  Isabelle jumped to her feet.

  “Stop!” she said.

  “But…”

  “No!” Isabelle yelled, holding up bot
h hands as she backed up, toppling her chair.

  Breathing hard, hand still on her chest, Yolanda stared at her.

  Isabelle stared right back, ready to bolt from the room if need be. For several seconds, dead silence reigned.

  What had Yolanda seen?

  Why did she say Mac’s name?

  Isabelle shook her head.

  No. Don’t go there.

  “Did you…” she said. “Did you see Daniel?”

  Yolanda took a moment, closed her mouth and her eyes, and inhaled through her nose.

  What had Yolanda seen?

  “Yes,” Yolanda said, opening her eyes.

  She opened her mouth as though she were going to say more and Isabelle tensed but then Yolanda stopped and shut her mouth again. She glanced at the crystal ball and then back to Isabelle, her eyes narrowing. Suddenly, she stooped, reached under the table between them, and pulled out her purse.

  Isabelle cocked her head, watching, as Yolanda pulled out her keys, took one off the ring and set it on the table.

  “You’ll be borrowing my car,” she said.

  •••••

  “I don’t see a death certificate,” said Tim, continuing to type as Mac looked over his shoulder. “Daniel Allmand, with a d, right?”

  The dark computer lab of the Cyber Crime division was full of young agents like Tim, each one at their workstation, headphones on. The only sound was the whirring and whine of computers and the occasional clicks on keyboards.

  “Right,” Mac said. “Two l’s.”

  Tim shook his head.

  “Nope. No death certificate.”

  Tim glanced down at the picture of Kayla and Daniel that Mac had put next to his keyboard. And though Mac glanced down as well, it wasn’t the photo that he saw. It was Isabelle.

  She’d been furious. Hadn’t even looked back as she’d dashed up the stairs.

  But she had to see this was for her own good.

  “MacMillan,” Tim said.

  Mac blinked and looked at him.