Moonlight Mist: A Limited Edition Collection of Fantasy & Paranormal)

by Nicole Morgan

  Alex stiffened. He understood his role. He knew she’d dream her way through this case, finding one clue after another—their second case together. “There was a full moon during Lisette’s kidnapping.”

  “Weird, I know. The moon seems to follow my visions.” She kissed his bare chest in an attempt to relax him. No dice. He remained stiff as a mummy.

  She inhaled his sandalwood musk cologne, a soothing fragrance to calm her own nerves. The case may end up on his plate, depending on Mt. Hamilton’s jurisdiction. If not the lead homicide detective, he’d at least be a team member due to her involvement, regardless of the type of case. After his niece was kidnapped, he’d made the demand to the police department to be part of every crime she witnessed in her telepathic visions. Fortunately for the PD, no one wanted to tackle her psychic talents, and rejecting his demand didn’t become an issue.

  “I’m sorry. I know you wanted a longer break since rescuing Lisette, but this is what you bought when you hooked up with a Westwood psychic.” Juliana circled her arms around his neck, wanting to paste a balm over his dread. He hated her psychic visions, hated what they did to her. But he’d experienced firsthand how much her telepathy helped to find his niece, and neither of them would ever deny her ability to assist others in need.

  His mouth landed on hers, hot and possessive, showing her how much he loved her and how much he’d protect her to the death. Tongues tangoed and dueled, and his erection grew rigid against her thigh.

  Breathless, he drew away, hooking her hair behind her ears. “I want you so bad right now.”

  “Really? Do tell.” Gently, she nudged her leg against his hardness, then fake-pouted. “We have business to attend to, a murderer to identify.”

  Alex raked a hand through his short hair, a sure sign of his agitation. Next stop, popping the antacids like mints. “Tell me about the vision. I’ll take an official statement later.”

  Juliana related the sketchy details. Too little to help, but enough to put the police department on notice that either the accident had already happened, or would happen soon.

  Her visions were seldom wrong.

  Juliana slugged down an aspirin to alleviate her usual vision-induced headache. Alex called her downstairs to the family room. She nearly tripped over the empty suitcases in the upstairs landing, waiting to be stowed away. They’d returned a few days ago from a two-week trip to Scotland, a long promised vacation and welcome respite from the kidnapping ordeal.

  Alex rewound the DVR. “Accident happened early this morning. Car flew off a hairpin curve on Mt. Hamilton and rolled down a cliff. Police are ruling it an accident, pending investigation. The dude should never have driven that road in the dark.”

  Juliana watched the news report. She read the victim’s name and gasped, slapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh. My. God. Michael Falbrooke?”

  Alex blinked back his surprise. “You know him?”

  “He’s a new client. Just hired me to provide financial management for himself and his law firm. And for his new partner Jake McAllister who runs the investigations for his practice.”

  “So he’s the connection to the vision. Did you go to his office? Touch anything, chair, desk?”

  “All of the above.” Juliana took the remote and replayed the news report, recognizing the mangled car from her vision, a late-model Mercedes. The black sedan had rolled down the hillside, landing on another switchback section of mountain road. “Can you take me to the accident site?”

  Alex shook his head so hard she thought he might have caused permanent brain damage. “Hell, no.”

  Annoyance whipped through her. “It wasn’t an accident! Someone shot at his car and caused this. I know it.”

  “Because you saw a ghost holding a gun standing on the road above?” He may as well have sneered for all the disdain hijacking his voice.

  Annoyed, she threw up her hands. “Seriously? You doubt me after everything we’ve been through? Come on, primo Detective MacKenzie, don’t play that card with me. Not now.” His scorn reminded her of their first meeting at the SJPD after she’d returned from New York and dreamed of a kidnapping that hadn’t occurred yet. His well-known dislike of psychics was epic among his co-workers…until she’d gained his trust and proved herself once again.

  He held up his hands in capitulation. “It kills me to watch you go through the touch telepathy bit, the sickness, the passing out…the other.” Words caught in his throat.

  Juliana cupped his cheeks. “I love you more than I know how to verbalize. I adore your protection of me in all ways. But this is who I am. I can help in ways no one else can.”

  Alex embraced her. “I don’t know what I’d do if another asswipe mind sucks you in like that bastard did. I can’t lose—” his voice choked up.

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Juliana kissed his chin, his mouth, and he leaned his forehead against hers. “You won’t lose me. You’re stuck with me forever, for better or for worse.” She twisted her emerald engagement ring around her finger. “We’ll grow old counting our wrinkles together, playing mind-reading tricks on our great-grandchildren.”

  “Can I hold your hair back if you upchuck?” Humor crinkled the corners of his mouth.

  “Today?”

  “Every day for the rest of our lives.”

  It was effortless how he’d woven himself in every part of her life in such a short time. “Deal. Grab my bag of tricks and let’s hit the road.”

  “Soda, aspirin, and all my love, coming up.” He kissed her long and hard, imprinting himself on her senses in all the ways that mattered. Juliana melted into his kiss and memorized the soft firmness of his lips, his musky cologne, his firm muscles and delectable abs, the unconditional way he loved her beyond reason. Those tools of her trade would help drive her back from the brink of insanity if another psycho criminal attacked her mind.

  The one thing Juliana hadn’t told him was that another psychic presence had dug a hole into her mind, trying to figure out what Juliana was…until the presence seemed to realize he’d delved into another person’s dream and zoomed out. His or her fear lingered still. Juliana felt no malevolence from the presence, but comparing it to the kidnapper’s actions dumped the new presence in the same category of wickedness.

  A cold sweat broke out on Juliana’s neck, and that confusion continued to cloud her head. Alex would lock her in an iron cage if he discovered another psychic vision-link had occurred, but she didn’t want to alarm him until she was positive the link was harmless…or not.

  Chapter Two

  Canary crime scene tape roped off the mangled black Mercedes on the short span of curvy road midway up the mountain on the outskirts of San Jose. Police vehicles, fire trucks, and various other vehicles teemed the area. Reporters snapped photos and video.

  The prominent San Jose lawyer’s death wouldn’t go unnoticed far and wide among the Silicon Valley legal community. Fortunately, for Juliana’s nerves, the coroner’s office had already carted his body to the morgue. She didn’t want to replay that much of the vision in her reality, and she didn’t want to break down upon seeing the destruction of a man she’d known, albeit briefly.

  Falbrooke had been a generous, giving man belying his toughness as a top-notch lawyer. As a widower, he’d lost his wife years ago in a freak boating accident on Lake Tahoe. He’d left behind a twenty-eight-year-old daughter, the same age as Juliana. The thought of how Falbrooke’s daughter would react to the news, an orphan now like Juliana, seized her heart. What was her name? Juliana racked her brain. Falbrooke couldn’t say enough wonderful things about his loving daughter, and wished she’d joined his law practice instead of following a now-estranged boyfriend south to San Diego after law school a few years ago. A flower name similar to her mother, Rose. Iris? No, too old-fashioned. Violet? Lily. Yes, Lily Falbrooke.

  Juliana scanned the road curving around the hillside, checked out the people milling about, wondering why his law firm’s lead investigator and partner, the handsome and beguiling
Jake McAllister, wasn’t on site launching his own investigation. From the brief time she’d known Jake, she knew his tenacity would leave no stone unturned in this accident, nor would he allow the cops to trip him up in his investigation.

  Alex parked his black SUV alongside a fire truck, hiding Juliana from the feeding frenzy. He took her hand in his, sliding her engagement ring up and down her finger, a MacKenzie family heirloom she was honored to wear. “How do you want to play this?”

  Juliana drummed her fingers on the armrest. “I didn’t think so many reporters would still be swarming.” She donned a pair of large, dark sunglasses and rolled up her hair.

  Alex snagged her backpack from the backseat and wedged it on the center console. Juliana yanked out a short auburn wig and combed her fingers through the tresses before tugging it on, pinning errant blonde locks beneath the wig. “Investigative assistant Leigh Duncan is now in the building.” Primping up her hair and adding a sly curl to her lips, she turned to him. “Good?”

  He handed her a new official SJPD badge identifying her pseudonym: a combination of their high school name and his middle name. “Hello, my lovely, luscious Leigh.” He brushed a kiss over her mouth. “One night, you need to wear that getup to bed. I know a lieutenant who’d love to teach you to wield a baton.”

  She slipped on a black SJPD windbreaker, glad she’d worn slacks despite the promise of a warm Indian summer day. Not so much a choice since trying to mount Alex’s lofty SUV in a skirt was an exercise in indecent exposure. “I’d love to curl my fingers around your baton and practice my expert moves.” She trailed her fingers up his thigh, stopping short of the bulge blooming in his slacks.

  “Ah, babe, don’t do this to me now.” He groaned.

  Juliana arched an eyebrow. “Look who’s talking, Lieutenant MacKenzie. Shall I call your captain and report you for sexual harassment?”

  “Captain hates that you’re on his payroll as it is.” He clipped her badge on her jacket and lifted her backpack. “Let’s hit it before the scene goes cold.”

  Juliana gave him a twisted grin. “Funny. You mean before you get cold feet and lock me in the car?”

  Grumbling, Alex climbed out of the SUV and met her near the front end.

  “Did you know Falbrooke or his PI Jake McAllister?” Juliana asked.

  “I was a witness on one of Falbrooke’s cases. He’s not a criminal lawyer.” Without touching, acting the co-workers they portrayed, they strode toward the canary police tape surrounding the destroyed car. Alex acknowledged familiar emergency personnel as he passed them, flashed his badge whenever warranted. “Never met McAllister.”

  “Apparently, he’s new to Falbrooke’s firm. A little mysterious, and Falbrooke didn’t pony up details.” She shrugged. “McAllister mentioned being a securities expert.”

  “Strange partnership if the guy’s not a lawyer. Don’t lawyers and lawyers usually partner up?”

  “That’s my guess.” Juliana toed gravel littering the tarmac. “Who knows? Maybe he’s a non-practicing lawyer.”

  Alex stopped her outside the cordoned area. “Why’re you interested in McAllister?”

  Voices escalated around the accident site, enough to drown them out. Regardless, Juliana lowered her voice for Alex’s ears only. “The ghostly man in the rearview mirror resembled him. Long dark hair, height, muscular build.”

  Alex scratched his jaw. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

  “It hit me as I closed the car door.” Juliana locked her hands at her sides, refraining from touching anything yet. “You know how puzzle pieces randomly float my way. I can’t just wave my magic wand and hand you the perp on a silver platter.”

  He started to hug her, realized they were in public, and halted, playing their roles to protect her identity to the press. “Sorry. It’ll take me time to get used to this craziness.”

  “Well, this craziness works, and you better get used to it fast.” Her smile softened the blow of her words. Alex had much to learn about her particular trifecta of telepathy: prescient visions, mind-reading, and her newfound touch telepathy. It still boggled her mind.

  “MacKenzie!” A man shouted from the other side of the destroyed car. He barreled over to them. “Captain Hayes said you’d be here with your assistant. Not sure why. Not your jurisdiction.”

  “Murder’s my jurisdiction.” Grinning, Alex shook the man’s slender hand.

  About their same age, with a Greek swarthiness to his lankiness, the deputy confronted Juliana. “Sheriff Deputy Giorgio Kepler. If this jackass isn’t treating you well, you can always come work for the greener side. We have better donuts.” He winked and grinned, displaying a large row of slightly crooked upper teeth.

  Juliana flushed under the barrage of his thoughts ranging from asking her out to stripping her bare…and more.

  “I bet you’d strip me down to skin, teaching me to suck out crime from outside the city limits.” From the reddening cast to his face and the tilt to his head, she’d thoroughly mystified Kepler.

  Spine stiff and on guard, Alex coldly introduced his police academy buddy, which from his tone, made Kepler seem more of a thorn in Alex’s butt than a buddy. Juliana hid a smile. The jealous eighteen-year-old Alex still lived within the man he’d become. Good thing Alex didn’t know how big a perv his old friend was from his thoughts.

  “Accident?” Alex asked. “Can we get a closer look?”

  “Appears so.” Kepler lifted the yellow tape. “Two blown tires, car went out of control.”

  “Examine the tires,” Juliana hinted. He scrutinized her, and she didn’t need to read his pea brain to know he’d just placed her.

  “Ah. Look, MacKenzie, I’ll keep it in the vault. I know she’s the psychic. I followed your niece’s abduction case.”

  Somewhat relieved and feeling like she could trust the deputy, Juliana gave a quick rundown of her vision.

  Kepler studied her a few seconds as if to verify her authenticity, gave a sharp nod of acceptance. “There’s a man here you need to meet. Niles Nevin, Director at the Psychics Guild, or some hoity-toity position. Says Michael Falbrooke was a member.”

  Juliana’s ear’s perked up at the mention of the illusive Psychics Guild and her own desire to join. Alex growled low in his throat, hating any mention of the Guild or their Guardians—the bodyguards hired to protect their psychics. Every time Juliana brought the subject up, he shut her down. He wanted nothing to do with them, and hell would freeze over before he allowed another man to guard her. Authentic and powerful psychics were rare, and the Guild protected them as if they were the last humans on earth.

  “Was Falbrooke a psychic?” Juliana asked.

  “Guardian,” a man with an Irish accent replied behind her. “Or I should say non-practicing Guardian.”

  “Once a Guardian, always a Guardian,” Juliana chanted as she spun on her short-heeled boots, gauging the veracity of her words.

  The attractive, lanky man smiled, wrinkles fanning his hazel eyes. “Exactly. I knew Michael hired you for a reason, Ms. Westwood. However, I can guarantee he never spoke of his role in the Guild. I’m Niles Nevin, Director, Guild Protectorate.”

  Blinking up a breeze, Juliana took his slender hand in a firm shake. “Juliana Westwood.” She dropped his hand, and Alex linked his fingers in hers, like a male dog marking his territory. He may as well have snarled and lifted his leg on the distinguished Irish gent. “He didn’t mention the Guild at all.”

  “Not surprising. He wasn’t a fan. In certain respects, he blamed the Guild for his wife and son’s deaths.” Niles gestured to a copse of trees to the left. “Can we talk in private?”

  Alex released her and put distance between them, recreating their platonic roles. “We have a job here.”

  “I won’t take up much of your time.” Niles tucked his smartphone in his jacket pocket. “Deputy Kepler, can you excuse us?”

  “Absolutely. You know how to reach me. Catch you on the flipside, MacKenzie.” He dipped ben
eath the police tape and strode over to a group of emergency personnel packing up.

  A flatbed tow truck zoomed up the hill, its diesel engine chugging and deafening the sounds of activity. Juliana noticed the reporters were abandoning ship for more abundant waters. A mountain of relief slid off her knotted shoulders as they paid her no attention. She had no desire to become shark bait once again for the press. Twice in a lifetime was two times too many in her tackle box.

  The trio moved nearer to the trees, the branch spread shading them from the rising sun. The scent of eucalyptus filled the air, tangy and cleansing, contrary to the stain of the accident on the normally tranquil hillside.

  “What’s this about?” Alex lost no time. “We need to get to work.”

  Juliana frowned at Alex. “Excuse my lieutenant. He’s not a Guild fan either.”

  Niles smiled his charming, soothing smile. “You can drop the pretenses. I know who you are and your relationship. I’ve been following you for some time. Your former doctor Brian Miller and I go way back. We once discussed your case at a high level.”

  Alex’s face mottled. “You’ve been stalking her?”

  Juliana jerked her head back. “You know Brian?”

  “He’s my go-to man on all psychic phenomena. We’ve consulted for over a decade.”

  “What else has Brian spilled to you about Juliana?” Alex leaned forward as though to threaten the man, his body stiff and looming next to the thinner man of equal height.

  Niles mimicked Alex’s move, not at all intimidated by the gun inches from him in Alex’s shoulder holster. “Just that I should encourage her to join the Guild.”

  “Fat fucking chance.”

  Juliana stomped her boot on the ground, waved her hand in front of her overprotective gatekeeper. “I’m standing right here. Stand down, Lieutenant.” Juliana diverted them, “What did you want to talk about, Niles?”