“You’re trying to tell me that a ghost won’t let me use the phone?” he replied incredulously.
She shook her head. “She’s not a ghost. At least not the type of ghost you’re referring to, and if you try to leave, she will stop you. Unfortunately, she’ll probably do it in a dramatic way that will attract Lucien’s attention, and I can’t let that happen. Once Lucien learns that she’s on the loose, not only will his soul be at risk, but it could endanger everyone in the coven. And that’s what Moira is after, Ryan. The more recognition she has, the more souls she’ll have access to. That will almost guarantee that she can fulfill the curse and regain existence in this world. So, as you can see, that’s why I can’t fix the phone.”
Ryan gaped at her, trying to decide which amazed him the most—her crazy, convoluted story, or that she’d managed to tell it all in one breath.
When he realized she was regarding him expectantly, he said, “You know, lady, whoever told you that insanity doesn’t run in your race must have had a loose screw of their own. You’re not only nuts, but a psychiatrist could spend the next decade trying to diagnose all your psychoses.”
“I am not crazy!” she declared indignantly. “And if you would sit down and let me explain all of this properly, you’d realize that I am telling you the truth.”
“There’s only one truth I care about,” he shot back as he gingerly eased himself around the corner to the booth’s seat and sat down on its edge. He bent to retrieve the mop off the floor before asking, “Can you stop me from leaving here?”
“I’ve told you several times that I can’t.”
“You just won’t help me,” he said as he used the mop to lever himself back to his feet.
“That’s right,” she agreed, eying him warily.
He nodded. “So, if I walk out the back door right now, there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Ryan, I just explained why you can’t leave.”
“That doesn’t answer my question. If I walk out that door, can you stop me?”
She let out an exasperated moan. “I can’t stop you, but it would be ridiculous for you to try to leave. Even if Moira decided to let you go, it’s nearly thirty miles to the next town. There is no way you can walk that far on a mop.”
He arched a brow. “Lady, I already told you that where there’s a will, there’s a way, and I have a hell of a will.”
“Ryan, you can’t do this!” she cried in frustration when he started for the door.
He waited until he’d reached it and pulled it open before he glanced back at her and drawled, “You just watch me.”
With that, he hobbled out, slamming the door behind him.
Shana stared at the closed door in shock. He was really going to try to walk thirty miles on a mop! And he had the audacity to say she was crazy?
The future is mine, and now yours will be mine!
As Moira’s refrain echoed in Shana’s mind, a card appeared in front of her face. She had just enough time to recognize it as The Wheel of Fortune—in the reverse position, of course—before it drifted to the floor.
“You know, Moira, you are becoming irritatingly redundant,” she snapped as she bent to retrieve the card. “Can’t you come up with a new line? And why do you keep giving me superfluous cards? I sure didn’t need this one to know that matters have taken a turn for the worse.”
As she spoke, she studied the card. The face of the Sphinx perched atop the wheel was Ryan’s, and she gave a rueful shake of her head. Normally, she considered the Sphinx an equilibratory force, but so far Ryan had proved to be anything but stabilizing.
Adding the card to the growing collection in her back pocket, she scowled at the door, trying to decide what to do about his departure. She couldn’t stop him from leaving, but she knew Moira would. She was also sure it was going to be in a manner that would attract Lucien’s attention.
But if she’s trying to get to Lucien, why didn’t she just let Ryan make his call? her conscience nagged.
Shana frowned. Moira would have attracted far more attention if she had let him try to leave with another person. Two mortals in trouble would have definitely had Lucien running to the rescue.
She began to pace around the room uneasily. So why had Moira stopped Ryan from making the call? Unfortunately, only Moira had the answer, and Shana knew she couldn’t waste time trying to second-guess her. Whatever Moira’s plans, she wasn’t Ryan’s only risk at the moment. He was wandering around in the dark with a mop for a crutch. If he didn’t end up getting lost in the woods, he was sure to fall and break something.
With an irritable shake of her head, she headed for the door, deciding that she had never met a more obstinate person than Ryan Alden. Even worse, she could end up spending the rest of her life with him.
“He’s right,” she muttered as she pulled the door open and stepped outside. “I am crazy. Why else would I have decided I wanted a mortal for a mate?”
AS RYAN ROUNDED the corner of Shana’s house, the mop handle slipped for what seemed like the hundredth time. To keep from falling, he was forced to stand on his bad leg. When he did, he muttered a curse that was as much a reflection of his frustration as it was due to pain.
Although there was a full moon, the trees surrounding the house were so thick he could barely see his hand in front of his face, let alone where he was walking. The ground was damp, and if the mop handle wasn’t slipping, it was sinking into the dirt. He tried to tell himself that once he found a road out of here, the going would get easier. He knew, however, that he was fooling himself. If the nearest town was thirty miles away, he was never going to make it there on foot.
“So I’ll find a rock and sit and wait for a car,” he grumbled.
But it would be a long wait. Because of his daredevil race on his bike, he didn’t remember much about the road leading to Sanctuary. He did recall that it had been a desolate area. Shana was sure to find him long before a car passed by, and he knew she would come after him. She was too determined to keep him here.
Glancing toward the trees, he wondered if he should try to hide in them until daylight. He dismissed the thought. If he tried to maneuver his way through the woods in the dark, he’d end up breaking his neck for sure.
With another curse, he continued walking, gingerly testing the mop for stability before each step. It seemed to take forever before he finally came to the front of the house. When he did, he let out a relieved sigh. Clearly visible in the moonlight was a dirt road. He was finally on his way to getting out of here.
“Don’t you think you should take along some food and water?” Shana suddenly said behind him. “After all, you have a long journey ahead of you. At the rate you’re traveling, I’d say about a week.”
Her voice was so unexpected that he jumped and nearly lost his grip on the mop. He wasn’t surprised that she had managed to sneak up on him. However, it irked him that she had.
After assuring himself that the mop was still firmly planted, he glanced over his shoulder. Because of the darkness, it took him a moment to find her. He finally saw her leaning against the house about six feet away from him.
He opened his mouth to issue a retort to her gibe, but closed it when he realized she was baiting him. Instinct told him that his best line of defense was to ignore her. So instead of responding, he headed for the road. Just as he reached it, she appeared at his side, moving as quietly as a shadow. After they’d walked several feet, he glanced surreptitiously toward her. The moment he did, he cursed himself for doing so, because she was watching him.
“I have never met a more . . . determined person than you,” she said as he quickly looked away. When he didn’t answer, she sighed and said, “Look Ryan, I know you’re unhappy with me, but there is no reason for you to sulk.”
Her taunt hit its mark. Despite his resolve not to talk to her
, he shot her a glare and said, “I am not sulking. What I am doing is ignoring you, and I was hoping that by doing so you’d get the message that I don’t want you near me. It appears, however, that you’re too dense for subtlety, so I guess I need to take a more direct approach. I want you to leave me the hell alone!”
“I’m sorry, Ryan, but I can’t do that. There are things going on that you don’t understand. If you would let me explain—”
“I don’t want your explanations!” he broke in angrily. Coming to a stop, he turned to face her, concluding that he had never met a more infuriating woman in his life. “What does it take to get through to you that I don’t care what’s going on? Your problems have nothing to do with me.”
“You’re wrong, Ryan,” she responded, propping her hands on her hips and scowling at him. “They have a lot to do with you, and if you would stop being so stubborn and listen to me, you would understand that.”
He gave an exasperated shake of his head. It was evident that the only way he was going to get rid of her was to hear her out. Grudgingly, he said, “Look, lady, if you promise that you’ll leave me alone after telling me your story, I’ll give you five minutes. Is it a deal?”
“But—”
“No, buts. I want a simple yes or no.”
She regarded him for a long moment before saying, “All right, but you really should be off your feet. Why don’t you come back to the house? Then you can sit down while I tell you everything.”
He automatically glanced toward the house. If he’d found the interior eerie, it was nothing compared to the exterior. There was enough moonlight for him to see that it was a huge, three-story stone house with pointed arches and slender turrets. It looked like something out of the Middle Ages, and in other surroundings, it probably would have been aesthetically pleasing. But cast in night shadow with huge trees crowding in on it, it had a sinister appearance. He knew it was absurd, but he had the feeling that the house itself was alive—that if he reentered it, it would never let him go.
“No way, lady,” he said, irritated with his flight into whimsy, but unable to dismiss the ominous feeling the house gave him. “I have no intention of going back in there so you can figure out some way to keep me prisoner. Either you tell me here, or you can forget it.”
Her expression said she wanted to object, but she must have realized he was serious, because she nodded and said, “I’m not sure where to begin.”
“The beginning is usually the best place,” he stated dryly.
“Yes, well, that was in Europe more than five hundred years ago when Moira was still alive,” she said. “You see, she was the most powerful witch who ever lived, and she became the first and only high priestess of a coven. It was then that she created an enchanted Tarot deck that would accurately predict the future.”
“Oh, come on. You can’t really believe that a bunch of Tarot cards can foretell the future,” Ryan scoffed. “Common sense says that it doesn’t work, because if you do know the future, you can change it. Therefore, it’s impossible to predict it, and that’s the fallacy of fortune-telling.”
“But that’s exactly what gives validity to the Tarot,” Shana rebutted. “It’s not supposed to be used as a fortune-telling device per se, because when a normal deck is used, it is fallible. It is, however, a good tool for personal growth and insight. Employed, it can help guide and direct you to live a better and more productive life. And that’s how Moira used her enchanted deck for the first ten years she was high priestess—as a tool to guide and direct the members of her coven to lead better lives.”
“Ah ha! Now we’re getting to the juicy part of the story,” Ryan drawled derisively. “Let me guess. After the first ten years, she got a little power hungry, right?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Shana agreed. “She fell in love with Aric, a warlock who didn’t return her love. She became obsessed with him, and when he fell in love with another witch, Moira wasn’t willing to give him up. The night he was to mate with the other witch, Moira surrendered her soul to the dark forces of nature. In exchange, they gave her the power to manipulate the future through the Tarot. Using her enchanted deck, she caused the other witch to fall off a cliff to her death. Then she cast a spell over herself that made her look like the other witch and took her place in the mating ceremony. She was convinced that once she and Aric mated, he’d love her forever, because that is the way of the mating spell.
“But when Aric awoke the next morning, he wasn’t in love with her,” Shana continued. “When he learned Moira had killed his true love, he went into a rage and killed Moira. As she died, she vowed to use the Tarot to return and claim a soul so that she could regain existence in this world.”
“And you think this Moira is now here to fulfill that vow,” Ryan stated.
“I know she is,” Shana answered, “because I accidently released her from the spirit-world on Samhain.”
“You accidentally released her?” Ryan repeated dubiously. “Even if I believed that such a thing as a spirit-witch existed—which, for the record, I don’t—how do you accidentally release one.”
“I broke coven law and used her Tarot deck,” she answered, “I knew something was wrong almost immediately, because Moira arrived without a summons. Then she took the cards and disappeared. I thought she’d been forced back to the spirit-world, but then she reappeared tonight.”
“Why would she reappear tonight?” Ryan asked, while telling himself that he was crazy for even engaging in this conversation. Enchantments? Curses? Spirit-witches? But as insane as her story was, his curiosity was aroused. She might be a lunatic, but she was an inventive one.
“That’s what I wondered at first,” she said, “but I think it’s because it’s Beltane Eve. Not only is the veil between this world and the spirit world thin, which makes it easier for her to cross over, but tomorrow is Beltane—the celebration of new life and new beginnings. Since Moira is intent on achieving both, it makes sense that she’d choose this sabbat to put her plans into motion.”
“Yes, well, as . . . interesting as I find this story, it still doesn’t explain why you think I’m involved,” Ryan noted.
“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to just take my word on the matter,” she said, rubbing her hands against her thighs.
At her nervous gesture, Ryan’s self-protective instincts began to buzz. “You suppose right. Come on, lady. What does all this mumbo jumbo have to do with me?”
She tucked her hands into the front pockets of her jeans and shrugged. “According to legend, Moira can claim only the soul of a person in love. That’s why I ignored the curse and used the Tarot. I figured it was safe, because I wasn’t in love.”
“And?” Ryan prompted when she fell silent, although he had a sinking feeling about where this was going.
She didn’t answer for a long moment, and then she said, “I didn’t take into account that the Tarot accurately predicts the future. When Moira took the cards, she learned that . . .”
“Learned what?” Ryan prodded when she glanced away from him.
She released a heavy sigh and glanced back at him. “She learned that you were to be my mate, which meant that it was only a matter of time before I fell in love. Evidently, she was able to cast an enchantment over you during Samhain, and now she plans to use you against me. It’s an ingenious plan, really, because she knows I’ll be compelled to protect you, even at the risk of my own soul.”
Ryan stared at her, dumbfounded. The moment she’d started talking about love, he’d suspected this was where her logic—or rather, illogic—was leading. Still, it shocked him to hear her say it aloud.
“Yeah, well, don’t worry about losing your soul over me, lady, because I won’t be around for you to protect. In fact, I’m getting out of here right now.”
As he spoke, he readjusted the mop under his arm. He resumed his tre
k down the road, more determined than ever to get away from Shana Morland. She wasn’t just crazy. She was bats-in-the-belfry certifiable!
As Shana watched Ryan walk away, she shook her head in stunned disbelief. She had just told him that she was to be his mate. How could he possibly walk away from her?
“After everything I told you, you’re still going to try to leave?” she asked as she hurried to catch up with him.
“You’re damn right,” he replied.
“Moira won’t let you leave, Ryan. The moment you try to step off coven land, she will stop you.”
He shot an impatient glare in her direction. “Well, I’ll worry about Moira when the time comes. In the meantime, why don’t you run along home. I’m sure that there’s some new ghost or goblin hanging around in your attic that’s just dying to haunt you. No pun intended, of course.”
“You still think I’m crazy,” she said, feeling both dismayed and amazed.
“Let me put it this way. I’ve heard of women taking desperate measures to find a man, but summoning up a spirit-witch and a curse belongs in the record books. If you’re really that lonely, why don’t you try the personal column in the newspaper? Who knows? You might hook up with some nice spiritual medium, and the two of you can while away your time, playing with all the spirits you want. If that doesn’t appeal to you, you can always check yourself into the nearest mental institution. I can guarantee that you will find a soul mate there.”
“Ryan, I know that this has to sound fantastic to you, but it is true. If you would just spend the night, I’ll find a way to prove it to you.”
“You just don’t get it, do you?” he snapped as he again stopped and turned to face her. “Even if it is true, I don’t want to know about it. I have enough problems of my own, so if you’re looking for a ghost-buster to help you slay the big, bad spirit-witch, you’re talking to the wrong person. I am not interested.”
“Well, you may not be interested, but you’re involved whether or not you like it,” Shana shot back, her own temper beginning to flare. “And if you think I’m going to stand by and let you jeopardize the entire coven because you’re too stubborn to listen to reason, you are in for a big surprise.”
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