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Snatching up her purse and tossing it on her shoulder, she headed out into the sunny afternoon.

  Two guys sat on the hood of a run-down Chevy a few doors down from her room, looking more suspicious than friendly. The focused attention they pinned on her made her skin crawl as bad as spotting the roach had. Their thoughts were less than proper, bordering on mental assault. She shut them out best she could.

  She pulled her keys from her purse and secured it between her arm and side. She didn’t know too much about defensive fighting, but she sure as the breath in her lungs would give any would-be attacker a beating before eating grass.

  Note to self: Check into somewhere a little more appealing next time. Remote motels are not wise for single women.

  An image of the Bates Motel from Psycho flashed in her mind and she groaned inwardly. Really? As if the roach wasn’t bad enough, she’d be showering with the curtain open now.

  She dropped in behind the wheel and slammed the car door shut, engaging the locks. “You’re under too much stress. A drink might be a good idea.”

  Kaylae couldn’t refrain from casting the delinquents a glance in her rearview mirror as she guided her car down the dirt drive and headed toward town. She decided to park on a side road—Jack O’ Lantern Lane. Cute—walk along the storefronts, and admire the festive décor, down to the streetlights with their cobweb brackets.

  “Huh. Halloween all year ’round. Pretty cool.”

  Kaylae sidestepped a large family coming out of a store. The youngest boys were dressed as pirates while the girl wore a poodle skirt and striped blouse. Kaylae paused as they passed, turning to watch them continue down the street, oblivious to their appearance. She had seen some of the tourists in costumes on her way in, but figured it was due to a special event of some kind.

  “…want all the candy I can get…”

  “…don’t want to go home. Halloween is so much fun!”

  “…take this skirt off. I feel like such a moron…”

  The fun-filled childish thoughts overcame the teenager’s dismal attitude as they brushed through her mind.

  “Take it pretty serious here.”

  One storefront drew her attention and she headed into Illusions. To her surprise, an admirably-sized crowd browsed the jewelry cases, employees lending aid and answering questions while showing pieces to curious shoppers.

  Unfortunately, with the crowd came an onslaught of thoughts that made her dizzy. She rested a hand against the doorframe to get her bearings, forcing the plague of nonsensical chatter to silence in her mind. She wasn’t completely successful, but once the voices faded enough for her vision to refocus, she drank in the sights in the quaint shop.

  Kaylae stepped up to a case that wasn’t surrounded and window-shopped the intricate pieces, from necklaces with unusual stones to bracelets of woven metals. She was not a jewelry fiend, but she did like her pick of unusual, and rare, gems.

  “Welcome to Illusions. Are you looking for anything specific?”

  A petite brown-haired young woman smiled from behind the counter. Kaylae smiled back and shook her head.

  “I was just looking. Gorgeous items.”

  The woman hitched a thumb toward a stunning blond on the other end of the counter in conversation with a stunning redhead. A girl no older than fourteen or so stood beside the redhead sipping a drink.

  “Willa is a master jeweler. If there is something you would like and you don’t see it here, she can make it for you.”

  “Impressive. I’ll definitely have to come back before I leave.”

  She started to lower her gaze toward the case, but the teenager abruptly twisted and held her eyes with an unnerving stare. Kaylae tried to ignore the unease that slithered along her subconscious. For the second time today, she had the invasive feeling someone was prodding into her personal mental territory and she had no way of stopping it. For the second time today, a voice filtered through the babble of voices in her head with an observation that left her confused.

  “I’ve never seen an aura like that.”

  A few moments later, the redhead and Willa, the blonde, were looking at her just as intently. Willa’s curiosity softened with a smile. The redhead gave the girl’s shoulder a gentle pat. She waved to Willa and left with her charge.

  Good-bye, sanity. It was nice knowing ya while you hung around for the last twenty-eight years.

  The blonde moved closer. “Hi. I’m Willa.” Her smile widened. She was beautiful. A subtle degree of serenity accompanied that beauty, managing to put Kaylae at ease. “Do you have any questions that I may be able to answer?”

  Kaylae shook her head. When the brown-haired clerk’s eyes lowered to Kaylae’s hand clutched around her purse straps, she realized she was strangling the fake leather in a death-grip. Slowly, she flexed her fingers to let blood rush back to the tips, and rubbed at the back of her neck. Her face felt warm with embarrassment. Maybe cruising the storefronts wasn’t the best idea.

  “You have beautiful work. I’ll definitely be coming back toward the end of my stay.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  “Um, I do have a quick question. Food. Where would you recommend?”

  The petite employee brightened. “Mummy’s Diner is to die for.” She giggled. “That’s their tagline. ‘Our food is to die for!’ Great, isn’t it?”

  Kaylae nodded, praying her grin didn’t give away her uncertainty. The town seemed like a place she would enjoy, if the circumstances were different. What she’d seen thus far appealed to her love of everything strange and unusual.

  Today, she wasn’t feeling it.

  “How about a place to get good food and have a drink?”

  “Howler’s,” Willa offered. “It’s a few blocks away, but well worth the walk. Don’t let the dive bar atmosphere fool you. The food is incredible.”

  “Thanks. I’ll check it out.”

  After listening to a quick rundown of the directions, Kaylae left the shop and made a beeline to the sanctuary of the bar. It was midday, not peak time for drinking, so she hoped she wouldn’t have to deal with another crowd. By the time she reached the front door, her hands trembled from the effort of fighting the overwhelming invasion of thoughts from strangers on the sidewalks. She couldn’t enjoy the town. All of her energy went to seeing what was in front of her while her vision threatened to gray out. Her heart raced and her breaths were shallow as she pulled open the door and stepped inside.

  She instantly regretted the decision not to call ahead for take-out. The place was packed with customers, more than she had imagined. Music played in the background. The clinking and clanking of glasses and dishes added another layer to the chaos. Savory and sweet aromas laced the air, making her stomach growl.

  Girl, you’re gonna have to learn to control the voices before you starve.

  There was a spot open at the bar. Concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, she made it to the barstool and pulled her purse onto her lap. Her fingers resumed their stranglehold on the handles in a weak attempt to stop shaking.

  One of the bartenders, a young man, came over and flashed her a white-tooth smile. His dark eyes glowed.

  Kaylae blinked. No, that wasn’t possible.

  “What can I getchya?” he asked.

  Kaylae narrowed her eyes. The man’s irises continued to glow—actually glow—reflecting the lights over the bar like a cat in the night.

  And earlier, you saw the bank teller’s eyes go silver. Girl, you need to sleep. Like, for a week.

  “Beer. Please. Whatever you have on tap.” Kaylae cleared the lump from her throat. “And a menu?”

  “Coming right up.”

  “What a hottie.”

  Kaylae snorted at the bartender’s thought, her attention tracing after the guy. Ugh. He was probably twenty-two or so and a total player. Besides, she wasn’t interested in relationships. Any man who got remotely close to her would turn tail screaming, “Crazy!” and leave her in more ruins than she already was.<
br />
  Her love life was as dull as a rock. A few passing flings, nothing serious. Every time she tried to get close to a guy, her apocalyptic nightmares intensified and an unseen force repelled her from her romantic target. She could never understand why, and she gave up trying to figure it out a few years ago.

  Holding tight to her dwindling sanity was her priority.

  The bartender returned with her beer, a menu, and a charming smile. “I can make a few recommendations. What are you feeling?”

  “Hungry.”

  The kid laughed. “You’re pretty sweet.”

  Kaylae flipped open the menu, her ears humming with the rush of chatter, both inside and outside her head. She chose to ignore the come-on, sharing a mere half-grin behind the rim of her beer mug.

  “Let me have the chicken tender basket and a cup of your soup of the day.” She slid the menu back to the kid. “Thanks.”

  “Name’s Ryan, if you need anything else.”

  Left to simmer in the noise around her, she consoled her beer mug and tried to think. When she returned to the motel, she’d read the letter. She’d been putting it off. She wanted to find out what was in the mysterious locked wooden box, and a nagging feeling in her gut told her the letter would explain most of her unanswered questions.

  She’d return to the motel after she stocked up on grub for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Maybe tomorrow her brain would be a little kinder to her and let her enjoy the town a bit more.

  Warmth curled around her nape and made her skin tingle. She brushed the sensation off as over stimulated nerves and took another sip of her drink. A pretty woman with auburn hair, a keen eye, and a welcoming smile placed a cup of soup in front of her, as well as a package of crackers.

  “Loaded baked potato is the soup today.”

  Kaylae pinched her forehead between her thumb and forefinger, faintness washing over her. That sensation of warmth and tingles intensified.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  Kaylae cleared her throat and forced a nod. “Yes. Thanks for the soup.”

  She dared to meet the woman’s stunning golden eyes and instantly wished she hadn’t. She was getting tired of people staring at her like she was a walking wonder.

  Hanging out with her roach buddy was looking more appealing with every person whose path she crossed. At least the storm of nonsensical thoughts wouldn’t plague her. Roaches didn’t project thoughts.

  She tasted the soup, approved of its full flavor, and went to town. She didn’t care that she slurped. Her stomach was grateful for something other than premade gas station sandwiches and vending machine-quality chow.

  “…going to be bad if they’re back. Keepers need to go into deeper hiding…”

  The single thought stood out from the sea of chatter. Specifically, the word “Keepers.” The spoon in her fingers clattered against the side of the bowl. She jerked her head up and scanned the dense crowd, trying to locate the source of that thought. An impossible feat.

  Two men standing at the end of the bar caught her attention. She didn’t know why. Well, maybe she did. Their looks were definitely eye catching. The one with russet hair and a tanned complexion clapped the back of a customer perched on a stool, waved to the woman who had delivered Kaylae’s soup, and headed toward the front door.

  His companion, a tall, muscly, brooding god of a man, leaned close to the woman and the customer. The female’s attention shifted to the customer, her eyes taking on a particularly happy glow.

  Glow. Just like Ryan’s.

  Ugh and ugh again.

  These townsfolk really took Halloween to the extreme. Cosmetic contacts and all.

  When she looked back at the brooding man, he stared back at her, the sharp slopes of his dark brows drawn together over a straight nose. His nostrils flared. The hollows of his cheeks, which already highlighted his rugged bone structure, darkened in shadows when his jaw set. Hair as black as midnight escaped to hang over his eyes, adding to a magical allure that drew Kaylae.

  She snapped straight in her stool and took a hearty chug of cold beer. Heat rose into her cheeks. A woozy sensation came over her.

  Eat, Kaylae. For dignity’s sake, get yourself together. Ogling is completely out of the question.

  Picking up her spoon again, trying to steady her trembling hand enough not to splatter soup all over the bar, she turned her sole attention to eating her long-awaited meal.

  From the corner of her eye, she caught the unrealistically devilish hunk of a man push away from the bar top, lift his hand in a small wave to the female, and fist-bump the man.

  “One order of chicken tenders for the beauty at the bar.”

  Kaylae’s head jerked up as Ryan placed a basket beside her cup of soup. The scent of fried chicken wafted up to her nose. Salivating was totally an option and she gave in to a small moan of delight.

  “Wow. Thanks.”

  “’Nother beer?”

  “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

  At least that way she’d have an excuse for any slips in madness that may occur. She finished her drink, handed the mug to Ryan, and dug into a piping hot tender.

  The motion knocked her purse off her lap. She grappled to catch it before it hit the floor. The bite of chicken in her mouth burned her tongue and her eyes teared.

  “Darn.” Fanning her mouth, she climbed off her stool and wedged her way out from between her stool and her neighbor’s to retrieve her rebel bag.

  Dark-and-Broody bent down and grabbed it before she could wiggle out of the cramped space. A faint pulse of panic seized her. She swiped a hand out and snatched her purse straps. The tips of her fingers brushed his.

  Fire exploded in her mind, stealing away any evidence of Howler’s. The muffled voices silenced beneath the crackling and rumbling of the scene unfolding in her head. Pain erupted in her chest. Her skin burned. Somewhere in the deafening, fire-raining war, she heard herself scream.

  The explosion vanished, leaving a thick, smoky cover that encompassed her as she fell into darkness.

  Chapter Four

  “Geez, man. You’ve lost your touch with the ladies. What did you do to her?”

  Zareh shouldered his way out the front door, Alazar on his tail, the unconscious woman cradled close to his chest. He had taken notice of her the moment she walked through the door. Tall, slender, with dark brown hair that reached midway down her back even in the ponytail and that held a sexy wave. Her skin was creamy and she wore little makeup, something Zareh considered a huge plus. An unseen ribbon of curiosity wound its way through his gut, wove up to his mind, and refused to release him from its bindings.

  Despite an outward façade that reminded him of a timid creature in a new world, he sensed the woman was more than timid or shy. She appeared to battle something no one was privy to, a battle for her and her alone.

  The dragon in him rose, ready to protect the stranger. Sure, he and all the Firestorm clan vowed to protect innocents, but the power behind this unwarranted desire to guard this particular woman hit him hard.

  Maybe it was the devastating loss of his Keeper that increased this basic need. It was hammered into his DNA. Or maybe it was the distress she tried to suppress behind fake smiles and shaky hands.

  All he knew was her well-being had become a priority for him. He was as baffled as to what had happened to her as Alazar.

  Sam jogged out of the bar to join them on the sidewalk. “EMS is on the way.” When the wolf shifter reached two fingers toward the woman’s throat, Zareh growled, twisting to place his arm between Sam and the woman. Sam raised his hands in surrender. “Zar, checking for a pulse.”

  “She’s got one.”

  Sam gave a small nod. “Are you going to let the guys care for her when they get here? Do you know her?”

  “Maybe and no.” Zareh tensed as his scales threatened to show in public. “You can call off your guys. She’s stable.”

  “She’s unconscious. That’s not really stable.”

  Zareh rolled
his eyes. “Heart rate is normal and she’s breathing. She didn’t fall and didn’t bump her head on anything.” He restarted his trek down the sidewalk, ignoring the stares of curious tourists as he passed. “Can’t be much wrong with her.”

  “It can be more than you think,” Sam insisted.

  He stopped and turned on Sam and Alazar. “Would it make you happy if I brought her down to the clinic?”

  “Yes,” the two said in unison. Then Sam added, “At the least. I’d feel more comfortable with EMS taking her.”

  “EMS takes people to the hospital, not the clinic.”

  “EMS takes certain people to the clinic. I’ll make sure that’s where she goes.”

  Zareh weighed his options. Sam, a firefighter for the town, had enough pull with the EMS team to follow through on his promise. Zareh glanced down at the woman. What was it about her that drew him in and demanded his attention? He didn’t know her name, didn’t know her age, had no clue if she was here on vacation or if she had just moved to Nocturne Falls.

  Already, he’d acted out of character. Mr. Calm and Collected moseying on down the sidewalk with an unconscious woman in his arms as if it happened every day. Werewolves and vampires were normal in Nocturne Falls, even to the humans who called it home. Witches and spells were accepted and sought after.

  Even so, a man carrying a passed-out woman down the street after coming out of a dive bar would raise brows and probably have the sheriff on his back in no time.

  Way not to draw attention to yourself.

  He caught sight of the flashing lights of the ambulance as it approached Howler’s. Sam tilted his head in silent question. Alazar wagged a finger toward the vehicle. Zareh groaned.

  “You’re right,” he said. “But…I go with her. To the clinic. After all, this is somehow my fault.”

  “Too hot to handle,” Alazar teased. Zareh’s lips peeled back from his teeth in absolutely no approximation of a smile. Smoke curled from the corner of his mouth. Alazar snickered. “Go on. I’ll follow with your truck.”

  Sam gave the EMS team a quick rundown of the events leading up to the woman’s current condition. The two men—shifters of some kind, from what Zareh could tell—buckled the woman onto the gurney after Zareh reluctantly deposited her on the uncomfortable-looking pad.