by Cara Bristol
She wasn’t a matchmaking service, but she had helped people meet their intendeds before. Quite a few times. Quite possibly less than an hour ago. They’d learn the outcome of Inferno’s meeting with his mystery woman soon.
“I can’t guarantee I can find you a woman,” she said. “I get visions, but I can’t summon them at will.” She could cultivate a receptive frame of mind, but the spirits of the universe decided if they would send her a message or not. If she’d been able to gain insight at will, a tragedy might have been prevented.
“Does that mean you’ll help me?”
“Yes. I’ll do my best.” She nodded. Against her better judgement, despite her disappointment, she’d help him.
“Thank you!” He reached out and squeezed her right hand.
Her focus narrowed to the point of contact, awareness of his sizzling touch spreading through her, longing burgeoning with such strength, she started to lean closer to him until she caught herself.
He released her hand, but the thrumming heat continued to suffuse her. Had he noticed her overreaction to a simple touch of gratitude? Had it been visible in any way? I hope not. Please not.
She would just have to ignore the attraction. She didn’t renege on her word. It wouldn’t be fair, and what excuse would she give? I’m stuck on you, and handing you over to another woman would be like poking a hot needle in my eye?
And wasn’t she overreacting a tad? They’d met maybe an hour ago. You couldn’t make someone like you. He wasn’t interested in her and couldn’t be held responsible for how she responded to him.
“How much do I owe you?” he asked.
“Owe me?”
“Payment.”
“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “I don’t accept money for what I do.” Second sight was a gift from the spirits. She could pass along the fruits of her gift, but it would be wrong to sell them.
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure.”
“Well, thank you. So, how does the process work?” he asked, his rumbling voice sending more heat curling through her.
“That’s the issue,” she replied, pressing her thighs together. “There isn’t a process, other than what we’re doing right now, and me meditating and opening myself up to the guidance of the universe and putting a request out there. Like I said, I can’t guarantee anything.”
“I understand,” he said, the doubt in his gaze belying the assertion.
“I’ll meditate on your situation over the weekend and see what comes to me. How can I contact you?”
He pulled out his phone, and they exchanged numbers. “Do we need any further meetings?” he asked.
“Sometimes it’s helpful. As I mentioned, Monday is the grand opening of Inner Journey. Perhaps we could meet after the store closes, say about 7 p.m.? It helps me if I have a talisman belonging to the individual I’m trying to read. Could you bring me a personal item?”
He fingered his rose quartz pendant.
She shook her head. “It hasn’t been with you long enough to absorb your energy.”
“I’ll check and see what I have,” he said.
The door opened, and a hatless, somber Inferno entered. Mandy’s gaze shot to his bare head. He had horns? With that ruddy face and horns he resembled a—oh no. She’d sent him to the church!
“Well?” Shadow jumped up from the sofa.
Inferno’s mouth and shoulders drooped. “There was a woman at the church. Her name is Geneva.”
At least she’d gotten the GEN part right. She braced for what came next.
“She screamed when she saw me, threw books at me, and yelled at me to get out.”
Mandy cringed. “I’m so sorry.” If she’d only seen him without the hat!
“I’m sorry,” Shadow said.
“And then on the way back here, this happened!” He tipped his head and fingered the bulging underside of his jaw. He looked like he’d swallowed a mouthful of marbles, and they’d lodged in his neck.
Shadow’s eyes widened. “Your mating glands have activated!”
“Yep!” Inferno’s aura swelled with a swirl of pink and happy yellow. “Geneva is my genmate!”
Shadow grabbed him in a bear hug. “I’m so happy for you!”
“Thank you.” Inferno twisted his mouth. “I’m sorry it’s me and not you.”
“Don’t be. Embrace it. I’m not giving up.” He jutted his head at Mandy. “She has agreed to try to locate my genmate, and if that doesn’t work, well, Mysk will have the ship ready in two weeks.”
“If it’s any consolation, Geneva hates me,” Inferno said.
“That won’t last. You can’t fight the genetic bond,” he said.
“That’s what I’m counting on. I’ll give her a few days to reflect before I approach her again.”
“That sounds like a good plan.” Shadow turned to Mandy. “I’ll find a personal item and see you Monday evening?”
“Sure thing. Let me give you some tea for your throat before you go.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I know. I want to.” She filled a plastic bag with appropriate amounts of lemon balm, turmeric, licorice root, and green tea, enough for several days. “I don’t suppose you have an infuser?”
At his blank expression, she said, “I’ll take that as a no.” She tossed some reusable drawstring tea bags into a paper sack. “Let the leaves steep for about three minutes. You can make it stronger if you like, but don’t let it steep too long.”
She handed him the package and gave Inferno the bagged quartz pendant, which he’d left on the counter when he’d dashed out. “Thank you for shopping at Inner Journey.” She forced brightness into her tone. “It was a pleasure meeting you gentlemen.”
She shook Inferno’s hand and immediately got an image of a plump, curly-haired blonde. An aura of fear and disbelief swirled around the woman. No, the meeting at the church hadn’t gone well, yet Inferno was overjoyed.
Then she shook Shadow’s hand. Nothing. Nothing useful. Only tingles and another rush of heat. Stupid libido.
Dejected, she watched the two men leave.
Chapter Seven
“And a free grand-opening gift for you!” Mandy dropped some tea samples into the customer’s sack with the aromatherapy candles she’d purchased. She was almost out of giveaways. She’d never expected such a huge turnout. Business had boomed all day, as her aching feet could attest. “Thank you for coming.”
“You’re welcome.” The woman leaned in. “And thank you for helping Shadow. We’re concerned about him. And for Inferno. He’s over the moon.”
Mandy widened her eyes in surprise. “You’ve met the ’Topians?” Kevanne hadn’t been kidding when she said word spread fast in town.
“I’m mated—married—to Wingman.” The customer pointed outside to a winged man seated on a bench, along with a little girl. Mandy had been so busy, she hadn’t noticed a huge guy with white feathered wings.
Nor had she picked up that the customer was mated to him. She’d gotten the vision of Kevanne and Chameleon right away.
Such was the capriciousness of the spirit world. Sometimes the universe flooded her with visuals and audio like a music video. Images could be sharp as a studio photograph or as murky as a grainy, out-of-focus snapshot of the Loch Ness monster. Or she got nothing at all.
Over the weekend, she’d meditated, hoping for a vision of a so-called genmate, but had gotten zilch. Nada. Worse, the focus on Shadow had exacerbated her lust. She couldn’t stop recalling his deep voice, how good he smelled, his brooding handsomeness.
Which niggled her with guilt. Had ambivalence sabotaged her second sight? She genuinely did wish to assist him, but didn’t she also kind of hope he might become attracted to her, too? Had she overlooked a sign because she had the hots for him? Didn’t want him to find someone else?
“I’m Delia, and that’s my daughter Izzy,” the customer was saying. “I work at the Whitetail Saloon across the street. You should drop in som
etime.”
“Thanks, but I’m not much of a drinker.”
“We serve food, too. There are two places to eat in town—Millie’s Diner and the Whitetail, and the bar is the only place to get a pizza. It is good pizza, if I do say so myself.”
“In that case, I’ll have to try it,” she said, and drew her brows together. “Um, if you don’t mind me being nosy, what’s the difference between mated and married?”
Delia laughed. “I don’t mind at all. Turnabout is fair play since you are the talk of the town.”
“I am?” Her stomach sank with dismay. She’d chosen Argent because, being off the beaten path, it offered a hideaway from the bad publicity.
“A newcomer with a new business? Big news! Plus, the announcement of your grand opening went out in the Angels Sing Herald on Saturday.”
“Angels Sing Herald?” She scrunched up her face.
“Play on words from the Christmas carol, ‘Hark, the Herald Angels Sing.’ Herald is a common newspaper name. So, Angels Sing Herald is the church bulletin, which functions as our local newspaper. The Inner Journey grand opening was the lead story.”
“Um…how widely is it distributed?” The press had finally stopped hounding her. Only her son knew where she was, and she intended to keep it that way.
“Just to local residents. You should subscribe if you want to know what’s going on and don’t want to wait for somebody to tell you.” She laughed. “Anyway, to answer your question, marriage is a legal arrangement. Mating, with respect to the ’Topians, is a complete bonding of mind, body, and soul. They were programmed to desire one specific mate who shares the same genetic marker. When two genmates meet—it’s kismet. They bond automatically.”
So, it was genetic. Well, that put her out of the running, for sure.
“Wingman and I also got married—at Kevanne’s lavender farm.”
“But you’re human,” she said. “Aren’t you?” One shouldn’t assume in this town. Shadow had looked human. Inferno, too—until he’d removed his hat.
Delia laughed. “As human as you.”
“How can you have the same genetic marker as an alien?”
Delia rubbed her nape. “That’s not something I can share. You’ll have to ask one of the ’Topians. I hope you understand.”
“I do.” Sort of. No. Everyone in the town knew everyone’s business, so why was this factoid so hush-hush?
As Delia exited, a curly-haired blonde with a deep-rose aura entered.
“Hello, Geneva!” Delia flashed a broad, knowing grin and then winked at Mandy.
“Hello, Delia…” Geneva replied with a frown and a purse of her lips to indicate the smugness hadn’t gone over her head.
Rarely had Mandy encountered anyone from a vision, but she wasn’t surprised to see her. Six degrees of separation theory purported that six or few social interactions connected everyone on the planet. In Argent, the spread probably narrowed to one to two degrees. Her intercession had sped things up, but no doubt Geneva and Inferno would have encountered each other eventually.
It was almost time to close, and her aching feet begged for a rest, but she bounded forward, eager to meet Geneva in person. It helped the accuracy of her readings to meet the people she saw. And if she was honest—she was nosy as heck. I’ll fit right in in Argent! “Hello! Welcome to Inner Journey. I’m Mandy Ellison.”
“Hi! I’m Geneva Walker. I peeked in the windows the other day and had to come check out the store. It’s big news around Argent.”
“So I gathered. I heard the opening was published in the church newsletter.”
“I did that,” she admitted sheepishly. “I hope you don’t mind. I’m the church secretary, and I do the newsletter. The Argent chamber of commerce, such as it is, submitted the announcement.”
“That explains why I’ve been so busy!” The strong turnout and receptivity to her ideas had been heartening. Although Internet sales accounted for about 60 percent of her business, if she expected to make a go of it in Argent, she had to direct traffic into the store, and that required publicity.
“Good! Glad to hear it. Okay if I look around?”
“Oh! Please do.” Despite the lateness, she wouldn’t boot out a potential customer—least of all Inferno’s potential mate. Geneva’s deep-rose aura pointed to a romantic, passionate nature, but there were also swirls of gray, indication of sadness or distrust. Mandy’s guess was distrust. If she’d been depressed or grieving, the gray would have been more prominent. “Would you like some tea?”
“I would love some. Thank you.” She smiled, and her face transformed. On the short side, a little overweight, her hair a mop of unruly curls, she was average-ish in appearance—until she smiled, and then her entire face glowed, and she went from ordinary to stunning.
Mandy wondered if Inferno had gotten to see that part of her before she screamed and threw books at him. She poured a cup of chamomile for Geneva who examined the table display of crystals. “These are beautiful.” She picked up a hefty rose quartz. “I love pink. This would look pretty on my desk.”
“Rose quartz helps to restore trust and harmony and helps one find love.”
The gray in Geneva’s aura darkened, and she wrinkled her nose before masking her disbelief behind a polite smile. “Interesting.”
“Have you lived in Argent long?” Mandy asked.
“A few years. After my divorce, I moved here to help my uncle who’s the church pastor. His secretary had retired. He needed clerical help. I needed a place to…regroup.”
“Win-win.”
“It was. It is.” She handed over the quartz. “I’ll take this!”
“Great! The stand goes with it.” Mandy grabbed the wooden base, and Geneva followed her to the cash register.
“I wonder if you’d be interested in doing an interview for the church bulletin. Folks would like to learn more about their new neighbor.”
“As long as you don’t expect me to reveal any deep, dark secrets,” she quipped. The business could use all the publicity it could get, and since the bulletin was distributed only to Argent residents, it should be okay.
“Whatever you feel comfortable sharing will be fine.”
Geneva paid with a credit card, and then sipped her tea. “This is good!”
“Thank you.” Mandy pointed to the jars. “I stock tea in bulk, and I have recipe sheets for people to blend their own, based on their needs. There are recipes for calm, to help with sleep, to boost the immune system, to counteract inflammation.”
Geneva broke into one of her stunning smiles. “See? That would be great information for the newsletter! We could run a tea recipe with your interview.”
“Um, speaking of the interview and the church, there’s something you should know.”
Geneva’s brows drew together. “What is it?”
“Well, if you look around”—her sweeping hand encompassed the store—“you can see I’m kind of into the mystical and metaphysical.” She would hate to be run out of town before she got established. Would hate to be run out of town at all. Been there, done that.
“I see that.”
“Well, you work for a church where your uncle is the pastor. The Bible speaks out against mediums, fortune tellers, necromancers…”
Geneva pressed her lips together. “My uncle would say, let god judge. If the church excommunicated all the sinners, there wouldn’t be anybody in church. As for me, please don’t tell my uncle if you ever meet him, but I’m not religious at all, which is a euphemistic way of saying I’m an atheist—although I almost had a come-to-Jesus moment the other day.” She laughed.
No doubt, she was referring to the encounter with Inferno. With his horns and ruddy complexion, Mandy could guess what Geneva had thought. She wished she could put in a good word for him. He seemed like a nice guy, and everyone deserved love. But she could only tell people what she saw or felt—it wasn’t her place to advise them how to act on it.
If their mating was predetermined, t
hen they would come together anyway. Still, poor Inferno would be operating under a strong handicap.
“So, god is a no. Do you believe in aliens?” She wasn’t interfering, she was making conversation with a customer.
“No, but a lot of people in Argent do. They claim there’s a group that lives in an old farmhouse in the woods.”
“You haven’t seen any yourself?” She tried to sound matter-of-fact and not surprised Geneva hadn’t met a single ’Topian.
“Nope.”
Having been in Argent a week, already Mandy had met two and spied a third sitting outside her shop. And Geneva had lived here for two years?
On the other hand, six ’Topians only accounted for a hair over 1 percent of the Argent population, and since they lived out of town, it wouldn’t be impossible that their paths hadn’t crossed. It would be like having that one neighbor you never met.
“What about the guy with horns you met at the church the other day?” Dammit! The question popped out, and she could have smacked herself. So much for keeping her psychic abilities secret.
Geneva’s eyes rounded like flying saucers. “How did you know about that?”
“He, uh, came into the shop the other day, and, uh, he indicated he intended to stop at the church.”
“And you thought he was one of the aliens everyone is talking about?” Geneva’s nose twitched skeptically again.
You didn’t need to see the shades of gray in her aura to figure out the church secretary had trust issues. The skeptic and the alien. What a match! Mandy had a hunch Geneva didn’t believe in anything she couldn’t see or hear or touch. Geneva would require irrefutable proof before she accepted anything supernatural or otherworldly. Inferno had his work cut out for him. “How would you explain the horns and red skin?” Mandy asked.
“A birth defect and a sunburn?”
“That’s another explanation,” she said noncommittally. She, too, had mistaken his ruddy complexion for sunburn. But when you put it together with the horns? Geneva would discover the truth soon enough. The rose quartz would help. That she had gravitated to that particular crystal was no coincidence. The universe had a plan for her.