by Ani Gonzalez
"Well, thank heaven for small blessings."
"Your gratitude may be premature. That's an expensive black truck. It must be the PRoVE folks." Thanks to a generous patron, Paranormal Research of Virginia Enterprises had vast resources. They had a fancy new building in town, top-of-the-line paranormal-detection equipment, and really large black vehicles.
Sebastian lifted his head and cursed. He threw the covers off the bed, sat up, and cursed some more.
"Well," Lily tried to be philosophical. "We knew they'd get here soon."
"That's not PRoVE." Sebastian threw a T-shirt on and reached for his pants. "The paranormies don't have limos."
The truck turned and Lily could see that he was correct. It was indeed a limousine. A long, black truck-like limo that lumbered slowly around the yard, trying to find a place to park.
Lily's heart sank. Why would a limo come to Banshee Creek? To Sebastian's cabin?
The metal leviathan finally stopped and the passenger door opened. A thin, short man with a goatee got out. He had a bulky black bag slung across his body and he carefully cradled a digital camera. The camera had a sophisticated long-range lens, the kind you could fit with a night-sensor. He aimed the camera at the limo. The door opened and a tall woman, dressed in leather boots and a champagne colored shearling coat stepped out. She swept her long, blonde hair back and gazed at the cabin, a mixture of sadness and longing on her beautiful face.
It was Ariel Henderson.
CHAPTER TWENTY
SEBASTIAN CURSED, in several languages.
He cursed the eccentric winter weather, the expedited snowplow, and the local limo service with its all-wheel drive, go-anywhere, anytime service.
But, most of all, he cursed Ariel Henderson.
She'd brought paparazzi, her own personal paparazzi. What the fuck?
And that wasn't all. He'd bet his Golden Globes Award that she'd also brought her wardrobe assistant and makeup artist. That coat required a portable refrigeration unit and he knew from painful personal experience that that hairdo took three hours to style, plus a set of foil thingamajigs the night before.
Playing the ingénue was no cakewalk.
But why did Ariel feel the need to adopt a brokenhearted, fur-bedecked, waif persona for him? It was a bit too late for that now. Ergo, the act wasn't for him. It was for the photographer, for the tabloids.
Well, Ariel wasn't the only who had access to reinforcements. He picked up his phone and sent a text. Then he pulled the bedroom curtain shut and turned to Lily.
Her eyes were wide open, her expression uncertain and a little scared. He wished he had time to explain, to reassure her. But right now he had to get rid of Ariel and her pet reporter. She was desperate, and therefore capable of anything. He didn't know Ariel's plan, but he wasn't going to let her smear Lily all over the tabloids.
He closed the drapes and walked out of the bedroom. He went around the cabin, checking windows and closing drapes as he walked. When he returned to the living room, Lily was sitting on the sofa, fully dressed.
"Keep the curtains closed," he told her. "And don't go outside, no matter what."
She stared at him.
"Do you understand, Lil?"
She nodded.
He pulled on his boots and coat and headed for the door.
"I'll be back as soon as I get rid of her."
"Bastian?" Lily's voice shook. She frowned and tried again. "What are you going to do?"
He opened the door.
"Something drastic," he said, and closed the door firmly behind him.
He winced as a drop of cold water hit his head. Dear lord, this stuff was melting fast. The photographer noticed him on the porch and aimed his camera. Sebastian glared at him, and the pap glanced at Ariel for instructions. She nodded and the pap let the camera drop.
Good to know who was in charge.
Sebastian stepped out onto the snow and walked to Ariel.
The ingénue pose was gone. That far-away, melancholic expression had been for the camera. She now stood with arms crossed, impatient, a determined look on her face.
That look gave him pause. That steely glint in her eyes meant one thing: she was going to do something really, really stupid. He glanced at the goateed paparazzi, who stood expectantly, camera at the ready, like a pet ready for a treat.
Scratch that. She'd already done something really stupid.
He walked up to the car and she turned to him, expectantly.
"What do you want, Ariel?" he asked, forcing a neutral expression onto his face.
It was one of the hardest acting jobs of his life, but the photographer was waiting for an angry or aggressive shot and Sebastian wasn't planning to accommodate him.
Ariel's strategy, however, was the complete opposite. She stood at an angle, giving the photographer a clear shot. Her outfit was, he suspected, carefully chosen to photograph well. Her makeup was flawless. In fact, he was pretty sure that she'd asked the makeup artist to use that weird spray-on foundation that made her appear young and innocent.
Ariel noticed his scornful regard and swallowed, glancing to the side nervously. It was exactly the same expression she'd used in the War of the Gods movie, when Hephaestus caught his faithless wife in flagrant delicto. He'd watched all twenty-seven retakes of that scene. Well, he had to give her brownie points for consistency.
"I want to fix things," she said, and her voice caught, as if she were on the verge of tears.
The sense of déjà vu grew. The assistant director had spent an entire afternoon trying to get her to perfect that line. But he knew Ariel wouldn't cry. Crying made Ariel's face red and blotchy and she wouldn't risk a bad picture.
"There's nothing to fix," he said, in a stony tone. "Our relationship ended six months ago when you decided to sleep around. Now kindly be on your way."
"But I did it for us," she whined.
That statement made the expressionless mask he'd adopted crumble into a skeptical grimace.
"He's going to do more movies," Ariel blurted, undeterred. "A trilogy. And he promised to give me the lead. I mean, give us the leads."
Sebastian looked into her beautiful green eyes, perfectly framed in gold eyeshadow. Yep, that was Ariel all right. Anything to get ahead.
"Don't judge me like that," she said, laying her perfectly manicured hand on his arm. "You know how hard it is nowadays. A guaranteed lead is nothing to sneeze at. It would have worked too, if that bitch hadn't found my phone."
"You're delusional," he said.
She grabbed at his sleeve.
"Help me, Sebastian," she pleaded. "I need this."
"Actually, delusional doesn't quite cover it. I don't think you and reality are even passing acquaintances at this point. We are not getting back together."
She seemed stricken, and, in spite of his anger, Sebastian felt a stab of pity. He'd once been crazy in love with Ariel, with crackling energy and wild ambitions. He'd signed up for every single one of her crazy schemes, the red carpet escapades, the industry parties, the endless paparazzi.
"It wouldn't make a difference, anyway," he said gently. "People have short attention spans and they'll forget this quickly. A reconciliation wouldn't help."
Ariel, her eyes shiny with carefully controlled tears, gazed up at him beseechingly.
"It would if we had a baby."
Sebastian froze, a sudden chill running through him. His gaze fell to Ariel's belly. It seemed as flat as ever, but the bulky coat could be hiding a multitude of secrets. He did some quick mental calculations, and almost sighed with relief. They broke up six months ago and hadn't had sex for a couple of months before that. Ariel couldn't possibly be carrying his baby.
He was practically dizzy with relief. A baby would tie him to Ariel forever and that was the last thing he wanted right now.
"Being a mom would give me instant credibility," Ariel continued, not missing a beat. "I'd stop being the scarlet letter woman. Once people see a couple of pictures in maternity
wear, they'll forget all about this little unpleasantness." She glanced at the photographer. "It will be all baby bumps, and diets and cute nursery furniture."
Sebastian stared at her in disbelief. She was planning to turn their hypothetical child into a career stepping stone? It took every ounce of discipline he possessed to keep from strangling her. Had he really spent the past couple of years trying to make this woman happy?
It appeared that he had.
Ariel's gaze turned thoughtful, assessing the pros and cons. "I'll probably have to go back to television. But that's okay. The cable networks are doing really good stuff."
She babbled on, this crazy, beautiful woman who had once been his entire life, planning a future centered around their imaginary child. Well, centered around her resurgent career and supported by their fictitious offspring.
He shook his head, and Ariel quieted, looking at him quizzically. She was still holding on to his arm, like a lost child.
One he no longer felt responsible for. The Sebastian who'd catered to Ariel Henderson's whims, who'd jumped through hoops to further her ambitions, was no more.
"It's not going to happen," he said, firmly. "You're going back to California today. You're going to go to lunch with your agent and drink a couple of margaritas. You'll probably cry a bit. Then you're going to get on with your life."
Ariel stared at him, stone faced.
"And," he continued. "I'm going to go on with mine."
She didn't say anything.
"Without you," he finished.
Ariel's eyes narrowed.
"That sounds pretty final," she said.
"It is."
She nodded and Sebastian relaxed. Ariel was an intelligent woman. She knew this was over. She'd go back home and come up with a new plan.
"Fine," she said, pursing her lips. "But I need one last thing."
She pulled him down roughly, wrapping her arms around his neck. She was quick and strong, not surprising since she followed a relentless fitness regime. She planted her lips on his and turned him toward the camera. He heard the camera click as he tried to push her away.
Fuck.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
LILY WATCHED Sebastian kiss Ariel, feeling sick.
They were gorgeous together. Ariel, tall and blond, arms wrapped around Sebastian's neck, and Sebastian, all dark hair and long limbs, holding on to her. Ariel's hair blew wildly in the breeze as she leaned into her paramour. A tree branch, heavy with snow, framing the scene, and the limousine in the background, along with Ariel's fur-lined coat, added a touch of glamour. Sebastian's tousled hair and unlaced boots did not exactly fit in the ritzy montage, but why quibble?
Lily waited hopefully for the branch to break, dropping a pile of snow on the lovebirds' heads.
No such luck. No, not even a drop of melting snow to spoil the idyll.
The photographer skipped around frantically, capturing the image. He seemed ecstatic, and no wonder. Photographing the Franco-Henderson reconciliation was a big deal. He'd probably get a huge bonus.
She watched as the photographer stepped back, trying to include the limo into the shot. He bent down to aim the camera, but paused, lowered the camera and frowned. He looked toward the road, tilting his head, as if listening.
Ariel Henderson broke the kiss and frowned. Curses, even her frown was pretty. It made her look like a slightly peeved Greek deity. She too glanced toward the road questioningly.
But Lily didn't pay attention to the Hollywood goddess. Instead, she stared at Sebastian, searching his features for a clue. Why had he let Ariel kiss him? Why didn't he push her off? And why was he now standing, still as a statue, staring at the road?
Sebastian's face was blank, no expression at all, but the other seemed to be listening for something. Lily could hear it now, a rumbling sound.
Someone was coming.
Maybe the snowplow was returning to finish the plowing. The thought cheered her up. She could sneak out and catch a ride to town with the plow crew. Right now the last thing she wanted to do was stay in this cabin, watching and seething while Sebastian handled...whatever it was he still had to handle with his glamorous but oh-so-treacherous ex-fiancée.
But the army of vehicles driving up to the cabin had nothing to do with road maintenance.
It was a veritable herd of bright purple all-terrain vehicles, all covered with mud and all attired with large, neon-yellow stickers depicting a staring eye, the logo of PRoVE, the Paranormal Research of Virginia Enterprises.
Lily's heart leaped. This wasn't her normal reaction to the local paranormal investigations club. Heck, it wasn't anyone's normal reaction to the paranormies. The locals regarded PRoVE's escapades with a mix of indulgent tolerance and polite befuddlement. Lily, who received frequent e-mails from PRoVE members complaining about anachronistic light fixtures and inaccurate tarot decks, had settled for polite tolerance.
But not today.
Today she was very happy to see the purple ATVs. They were her ticket out of this cabin.
But Ariel Henderson did not feel the same way. She'd let go of Sebastian and was now arguing with a muscular young man wearing a winter camp safari vest and an X-files cap. Strangely enough, Sebastian did not seem surprised to see the group. He seemed relieved.
Lily's jaw clenched in anger. He must be thinking that this was a good way to get rid of her. What an asshole. He couldn't be considering going back to Ariel, could he? No way.
But he was willing to kiss her to protect his Hollywood image. She glanced at her car, hands balled into fists, and tried to figure out if she could make it all the way to her vehicle.
It was time for a graceful exit. Well, as graceful an exit as one could stage with a motley crew of monster hunters running around.
The photographer was now the main obstacle to a quick getaway. Luckily, he had paid no attention to the nondescript cabin, but that could change quickly. What would be more enticing to the photographer, the Sebariel reunion or a picture of Sebastian Franco's rebound love? Lily really didn't want to find out. She had to get out of here without the photographer noticing.
And Caine's posse was the perfect distraction. She squinted at the group. The vehicles were dirty, but were clearly expensive and in good condition. The paranormies were all outfitted in military winter camouflage, but some, like the safari vest guy, had accessorized with vests and belts holding arcane equipment. They all appeared a bit haggard, like they'd been out in the snow for a while. She recognized a couple of guys, but there were a lot of out-of-towners. And someone was missing. Where was their leader?
Where was Caine?
"Looking for someone, Lily?"
She jumped in surprise and turned to stare at PRoVE's CEO. Like the rest of the group, Caine was dressed in grey and white winter camo and large goggles. A black cap covered his red hair and his beard was snow flecked. Unlike the rest of the group, Caine was six feet tall, with long red hair and the kind of physique one associated with military men, not conspiracy theorists. Overall, he resembled a humanoid raccoon who'd recently raided an Army Surplus store. If Fox Mulder had been a tall Viking with a serious Muay Thai habit and a fashion disability, he would have looked a lot like Caine.
"Or should I say 'Maggie'?" The corners of Caine's bright blue eyes crinkled as he smiled.
"That was totally Sebastian's idea," Lily explained hurriedly.
"Really?" His lips twitched. "Now that's a story I want to hear."
Lily gasped, grabbed his arm and pulled him to the back door.
"No way," she said. "You have to get me out of here."
Caine stopped her, dug into his satchel and pulled out a purple sweatshirt. He gave her an appraising glance.
"This may be a little big for you," he muttered.
Before she could protest, he pulled the enormous sweatshirt over her.
"There," he smiled in satisfaction. "You are one of us now."
Lily glanced down at the sweatshirt, which displayed the words "Virgini
a is for Ghost Lovers" in neon-yellow paint. She resigned herself to the inevitable and pushed her arms through the sleeves.
"Just one more thing," Caine said, eyes twinkling.
He dug back into the satchel, extracted a purple baseball cap with the PRoVE logo in front, and placed it on Lily's head.
"Perfect," he said with a smirk.
Lily sighed. Caine laughed and headed out the back door. She grabbed her purse and followed him, pulling the cap down to hide her face.
They walked outside. The air was cold and damp and Lily realized that she'd left her coat in the cabin. Oh well, Sebastian could leave it for her at the pizzeria or something. They trudged through freezing slush and approached the driveway.
The fat guy in the safari vest was still arguing with Ariel. Sebastian heard them trudging through the snow and looked up. His expression was inscrutable. He nodded at Caine.
Lily walked over to the PRoVE group and tried to blend in. A bespectacled girl with a killer teal-green manicure winked and handed her a black helmet with a sticker of an alien figure making the Vulcan peace sign. Lily took off the baseball cap and put it on. The girl pushed down Lily's visor then motioned for her to climb on the back of the ATV.
Lily obliged and wrapped her arms around the girl's waist. She glanced at Sebastian, who was studiously ignoring her, his attention focused on Caine. Caine nodded and gave a signal.
Ms. Teal Manicure turned on her machine and backed out of the driveway, followed by a couple of her colleagues. Lily glanced at Sebastian one last time.
He was watching her drive away, his face blank.
The ATV accelerated down the hill. As the vehicle picked up speed, the chilly wind stabbed at Lily's cheeks. But there was an upside.
The cold breeze blew her tears away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
SEBASTIAN WATCHED Lily leave on the back of the ATV. The purple sweatshirt and helmet hid her features, but her dark hair billowed behind her as the ATV drove away.
He immediately relaxed. Caine's posse would take care of her and keep her far away from the paparazzi. There would be no "Franco's New Paramour" headlines on tomorrow's mastheads which was a huge relief. He did not want to start his new life with Lily under the shadow of a tabloid scandal.