Magic in Light

by Krista Street

  “So it could essentially be anyone that’s meeting Daria today?”

  Goose bumps rose along my arms. Logan seemed to think my stalker could be a client.

  “No, not anyone.” Cecile shook her head. “These are all people who’ve been eagerly trying to see Daria for months, some for years. Many of them are traveling hundreds of miles for a session with her.”

  “But it could still be anyone,” Logan persisted. “What criteria do they have to meet to see her? I know it’s not all related to how much money they have.”

  “Correct.” Cecile nodded. “We only charge what people can afford, but we do require proof of their illnesses. Usually, that would be documents from physicians outlining their diagnoses, but if they’re not able to provide that, we require testimonials from friends, family, and neighbors of the individual, stating they’ve been gravely ill.”

  Logan’s eyebrows shot up. “Testimonials? So, essentially, anyone can see her if they pay a few people to state there’s something medically wrong with them?”

  My shoulders hunched as Logan pointed out our lack of security.

  Cecile frowned. “Hardly. Many of them have to wait months to see Daria, and those that aren’t seriously ill usually give up if they’re looking for easy access.”

  “Stalkers don’t usually give up easily.” Logan placed his hands on his hips. “What kind of security do you have at this venue?”

  Her hands fluttered nervously to her hair. “Um … we don’t.”

  “Security isn’t provided by the venue?”

  Cecile and I shared worried looks.

  “Today, it’s not really a venue,” I replied. “So to speak. Usually, we rent a small building or commission a tent at a county fair, but things have changed since the … threats started. What we’re doing now is a little unconventional.”

  Logan scowled heavily. If a thunderstorm could represent a person’s expression, Logan’s would be it. “How unconventional?”

  “We’re not advertising where Daria will be anymore,” Cecile replied, “and we’ve taken to using unusual facilities to meet. Today, we’re arriving at a farmer’s old barn off a barren highway. Her next show will be held in the back room of a magic shop in a small town in Wyoming. We’re using small venues to keep a lower profile.”

  Skepticism swam in his dark eyes. “And how many people know about today’s location?”

  My heart pounded again. Words from yesterday’s email sprang to my mind. Tick tock. Tick tock. I took a deep breath before saying, “Only the people I’m seeing today. Cecile contacted them yesterday and told them where to meet us. They’ve given their word they won’t tell anyone.”

  Logan cupped the back of his neck and sighed in exasperation. “Their word. Right.”

  Though Cecile looked as if she wanted to say more, Mike cut in.

  “The barn’s just up ahead. About a minute out.” His cheerful voice was a complete contradiction to the tension radiating off Logan.

  I ducked my head to peek out the front windshield. Ahead, wheat fields surrounded the barren highway, and a lone rundown barn jutted up between the tall stalks about a quarter mile off the road. Off in the distance, a farmer worked a field. Other than that, I didn’t see anyone.

  “That’s where you’re meeting your clients today?” Logan frowned.

  I shrugged apologetically. “Welcome to the life of a supernatural healer who someone wants burned at the stake.”

  Chapter 4

  I grimaced, watching the tension build in Logan like a tightly coiled spring. He paced up and down the length of the bus. Seeing his worry made guilt bite me hard. Trying to hide our locations wasn’t the best response to my stalker’s threats. I knew that, but none of us knew what else to do.

  Mike slowed the bus, the scent of burning brakes filling the cab, just before he turned us off the highway to follow the gravel road up to the barn.

  Outside, the sky was an endless blue, not a cloud to be seen. Summer’s grip didn’t seem to be lessening as the end of August neared.

  When we stopped, the brakes hissed. A plume of dust from the gravel road swirled around the windows.

  To the right, a derelict barn loomed through the dusty cloud. It teetered menacingly to one side. I only hoped it remained standing for another twelve hours. Given how rundown it appeared, that was questionable.

  “We’re here!” Mike stood, his paunch belly stretching over his jeans.

  Cecile licked her lips nervously as she assessed the decrepit structure. “We’ll just start setting up then. Set up takes a while.”

  Logan moved in front of her before she could exit the bus. “At least tell me the clients meeting Daria today are vetted.”

  “Vetted?” I asked. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Are background checks completed? Or, at the very least, are they searched before they’re allowed near her? Will they be allowed to bring bags in? How many people are allowed with her at the same time? What process do you use to keep her safe?”

  Cecile and I shared more apprehensive looks before I replied, “We honestly haven’t had any incidents in the past month, despite the threats. Sure, some family members become upset if I can’t see their loved one, but Mike usually deals with them. For the most part, we’ve been lucky.”

  Worry lines creased Logan’s forehead. “I don’t operate on luck.”

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Since we’d already procured the necessary permits to run my “farm stand” from the local authorities, and since the landowner had agreed to let us rent his barn for the day, Logan seemed a little more at ease that we were legal, but still…

  The energy surrounding him was akin to a bomb about to detonate. His hands clenched and unclenched as he helped set up the portable chairs for family members and the bed for my clients. Tension oozed from his shoulders when we set out the snacks and drinks for my clients who regularly traveled hundreds of miles to see me. Logan continually stalked past the barn doors as we spread cloths over the furniture and set out candles with calming scents of lavender and rosemary.

  He looked as if he needed the calming scents more than anyone.

  But despite his prickly energy, I still noticed the broad length of his shoulders and how his dark hair ruffled in the wind. Every time he moved, my senses perked up, begging me to take note of his strong hands and hard physique. Logan was still a potential mate, and my body seemed intent on not letting me forget that.

  After everything was ready, I hurried back to the bus, committed to putting some much needed distance between Logan Smith and me.

  In the small kitchen, Cecile was busy preparing a late breakfast. She already had the bread out and bacon sizzled in a pan, the fragrant scent filling the bus.

  I grabbed the bread. “Need help?”

  Her eyebrows drew together when I dropped a slice on the counter. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, just nervous about the show.” I placed a few pieces of bread into the toaster before locating the butter on the counter.

  Cecile eyed me again, reminding me of the knowing looks my mother used to give me. “Your cheeks are rosy. Show days don’t make your cheeks rosy.” She flipped the bacon, grease splattering over the pan’s sides.

  “They are?” I scowled in disgust that my emotions were so clearly on display.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? I know whatever’s bothering you isn’t about your upcoming show.” She turned to face me, planting a hand on her hip. “You’ve been tense ever since last night.”

  I began cracking eggs into a bowl before whisking them a little too briskly.

  She sighed. “Dar, what’s up?”

  With a huff, I set the bowl down and fiddled with the blinds over the kitchen window, peering through a crack. Logan and Mike had moved from the barn to stand outside. Midmorning sunshine streamed down on them.

  I let the blinds fall back into place. “Logan touched me briefly last night when I fell into him after Mike turned the bus sha
rply, but my gift didn’t activate.”

  Her lips parted. “It didn’t?”

  “No. That’s the first time that’s ever happened.” I grabbed another pan for the eggs and flipped on the stove’s second burner.

  Cecile’s expression turned pensive as she turned back to the bacon. “So he’s a—”

  “No. Don’t say it.” I dropped a dollop of butter into the pan and slid it around before adding the eggs.

  She covered my hand with hers when I began to stir the eggs. Her touch elicited a small response from my gift, but I stuffed the lid to my internal storage chest down just as she removed her hand.

  “You know what your mother said about touch when you find—”

  “I know, but he’s my bodyguard, and I’m his employer! He can’t be … you know. Besides, he probably has a girlfriend. I mean, look at him.” I cracked the blinds again. We were rewarded with a view of Logan’s broad shoulders and firm backside.

  Cecile shrugged. “True, he may have a girlfriend, and while I don’t fully understand how your gift works in that aspect, I do know what your mom said about potential mates.”

  I sagged against the counter. “But he’ll be gone as soon as this stalker stuff is cleared up.”

  Her expression turned sympathetic as she grabbed the plates. “Maybe, Dar. But what if he doesn’t have a girlfriend and he can turn into so much more?”

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  My knee bounced all throughout breakfast. I tried to concentrate on the salty bacon and buttery toast, but my body had other ideas.

  Every time Logan bit into his food, I wanted to watch the strong muscles of his jaw. And every time a breeze drifted across our makeshift picnic as we sat outside on lawn chairs, his tantalizing scent made my nose twitch.

  Thankfully, Logan sat over two feet away so we had no chance of accidentally touching.

  Still, my gaze kept drifting his way.

  About halfway through breakfast, a buzz sounded from Logan’s pocket. He pulled out his cell phone, and I couldn’t help but glance at it. A name flashed across the top of a text.

  Crystal.

  I only caught a few words in my hasty glance.

  …miss you. When can you call? I’ve been…

  My cheeks flushing, I snapped my head away as a swell of disappointment rose so strongly in me I almost choked.

  Logan’s jaw tightened when he read Crystal’s message. His fingers moved hesitantly, almost reluctantly, as he typed in a short reply before shoving the phone back into his pocket.

  I watched the exchange from the corner of my eye, feeling like a Peeping Tom, even though the logical side of me knew Crystal could be his sister, a friend, a work acquaintance, or anyone other than the person I was assuming she was … his girlfriend.

  But work acquaintances and friends usually didn’t tell a guy they missed them, although it was possible the message was from his sister. If he even has a sister. But even most sisters didn’t tell their brothers they missed them and wanted to know when they would call.

  My shoulders sagged, and the salty bacon suddenly tasted rancid. The urge to push my food away took over, but I swallowed the mouthful I’d been chewing.

  Are you seriously surprised he has a girlfriend? The guy’s hot enough to be an underwear model.

  Berating myself, I forced myself to finish eating and resolved to forget that Logan Smith was a potential mate.

  Just as we finished breakfast, the sound of a vehicle driving up the road reached my ears, which only meant one thing. My show’s about to start. Any lingering thoughts of Logan and his girlfriend disappeared.

  Mike checked his watch. “Sounds like your first client’s arriving. They’re a little early, though.”

  Logan checked the time too. “They’re definitely early.”

  My heart pounded as I wiped my mouth and stood. I picked up my lawn chair and hastily stowed it in the under-bus storage as Cecile and Mike grabbed the dishes before hurrying them into the bus. Logan stood with his hands on his hips, watching the distant driveway. I couldn’t see the vehicle yet.

  A moment later, Cecile bustled down the stairs and to my side. “Let’s get to work. We’ll have to do the dishes later.”

  Sunshine streamed across the wheat field swaying around us as we waited for my client. My heart rate picked up. Despite the fact that I’d done thousands of shows, butterflies still fluttered in my stomach at how grueling the coming sessions would be. Twenty-two clients guaranteed an exhausting day.

  Logan frowned when he caught my expression, and his unique scent drifted my way. Closing my eyes, I inhaled it.

  Surprisingly, my heartbeat slowed.

  “No one is allowed near Daria until I’ve searched them.” Logan moved closer to me, until his arm almost brushed mine. In jeans and a fitted T-shirt, he looked as sexy as hell.

  Not that I’d noticed.

  I gave him a stiff nod. “Of course. Not a problem.”

  Tension pulled along his limbs like a stretched rubber band ready to snap. Mike and Cecile hovered nervously at my side.

  The rumble of the approaching vehicle grew louder until finally, it appeared. A pickup truck drove steadily along the gravel drive, the tall wheat brushing its sides.

  I cocked my head when the driver’s outline appeared. A large cowboy hat covered his head, and he sat straight and tall. Not something I would expect of an elderly client.

  The man pulled up and hit the brakes, a cloud of dust rising. Rusty hinges squeaked when he opened the door and slid out.

  Logan stepped in front of me. He did it so fast that all I could do was peek around his shoulder.

  One thing was obvious from the young male swaggering toward us. He wasn’t my client. My first client was supposed to be elderly.

  So who is he?

  “What can we do for you?” Logan reached one hand behind his back.

  My eyes widened when his fingers slipped around a handgun. Tucked into his jeans, the Glock was so well hidden that I hadn’t seen it.

  “Are you the ones who rented my granddad’s barn for the day?” the man called.

  I tentatively stepped out from behind Logan, getting a frown from my bodyguard.

  Since the newcomer wore jeans, cowboy boots, and an old T-shirt, I guessed he worked with his granddad. Most likely, he was a farmer, perhaps even the one we’d seen working up the road. But the energy pouring off him made one thing perfectly clear—he wasn’t happy we were here.

  Mike shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and I caught his heavy sigh at the farmer’s aggressive demeanor.

  Better nip this in the bud.

  I ginned brightly. “Morning, and yep, we’re the ones who rented your granddad’s barn.”

  The farmer placed his hands on his hips, his scowl turning to an appreciative leer as his gaze moved up and down my frame. I stiffened as a soft, discontented growl came from Logan.

  “We’ll be gone by nightfall,” I added when the farmer still didn’t reply.

  Unfortunately, it quickly became apparent why he remained quiet. He was too busy ogling me. His eyes passed over me a second time, lingering much longer than necessary on my breasts.

  Logan’s hands clenched into fists.

  The farmer didn’t appear much older than me, but the suggestive curl of his lip made it obvious this wasn’t his first rodeo.

  “Just what exactly are y’all doing here?” he asked, his voice dipping.

  Logan put his hands on his hips. “None of your business.”

  When the farmer’s lip curled in a sardonic smile at my bodyguard, I hastily added, “We’re having a family reunion. This was a central location for us, so it seemed to make the most sense to meet here.” The lie slipped easily off my tongue, years of practice coming to my aide. He wasn’t the first local who didn’t want us around.

  The farmer’s appreciative leer returned when he shifted his attention back to me. “A family reunion. That sounds like a long day.”

  If you only knew.


  He scratched his chin. “Well, if you get bored visiting with second cousins, I’ll be working in the field just up the road.” His gaze dipped down to my boobs again. “I’d be happy to show you around town. We’ve got a great bar with pool and darts.”

  I suppressed an eye roll and replied with mocking sweetness, “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  The farmer hopped back into his truck, and a plume of dust filled the air when he turned and gunned it back down the road.

  Logan swung my way, a scowl on his face. “I hope you’re not actually going to meet that guy.”

  I laughed. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole.”

  Some of the tension eased from Logan’s shoulders, and his lips tilted up, but just as quickly as his smile appeared, it vanished. “Is that how most guys treat you?”

  “No, just the jerks.”

  Another low growl came from Logan. “That’s one word for them, although I don’t know if I’d put it that nicely.”

  Mike chuckled. “Neither would I.”

  Logan flashed him a grin.

  Cecile checked her watch and smoothed her hair. “It’s only a few minutes until ten. Let’s all get in the barn.” She hurried toward the decrepit structure. “Your first client’s due any minute.”

  “Speaking of which…” Mike straightened and tried to see over the tall wheat fields that surrounded the barn. “Here comes another vehicle.”

  Sure enough, a cloud of gravel dust filled the air at the end of the long drive.

  “Right on time.” Cecile propelled me toward the barn. “Are you ready?”

  I nervously straightened my shirt. “As ready as I can be given the circumstances.”

  The barn doors creaked as Cecile and I pushed them open then banged closed behind us when we entered the old building. The scent of rotting wood and molding hay filled my nose despite the multiple candles burning in the large space.

  As the car drew nearer, the sounds of its engine increased. When it ground to a halt, slamming doors followed.

  “Please state your names,” Logan said in a loud voice.

  Through the barn slats, vertical slits of light poured in. I could make out two people facing Logan and Mike.