“I’m worried about Dena,” Tammy finally said, her voice shaky. “We both go to the same church, and I’m afraid her disappearance has something to do with them.”
“Not her boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” Tammy’s shock didn’t sound contrived. “Dena didn’t have a boyfriend. At least not that I know of.”
Anabel’s stomach lurched. “That’s really strange,” she said. “Pastor Jones just left here. He told us you’d come to him to discuss how worried you were about Anabel and how concerned you were that her boyfriend had done something to her.”
“He did?” Tammy sounded shocked. “But that’s a complete and outright lie. I did talk to Pastor Tom—I called him—but I never said any of that. Not that I’m not worried about Dena, because I am. But I’ve never discussed anything about boyfriends with the pastor.”
At a loss for words, Anabel looked back at Tyler, wondering if he could hear the other side of the conversation. Apparently not, as his impatient expression told her he was waiting for her to finish the call.
“Is there anything else you might be able to tell me, Tammy?” Anabel said, hoping against hope that Dena’s roommate would trust her enough to share.
“Yes, there is.” Voice stronger, Tammy sounded determined. “I’m concerned about the church. Everlasting Faith. I think there’s something weird going on with them, and Pastor Tom is in the middle of it.”
Anabel opened her mouth to reply, but Tammy hadn’t finished. “My suggestion to you, if you’re really investigating Dena’s disappearance, is that you should investigate that church. I’ve quit going. Being around those people is not a safe place to be.”
With that, Tammy muttered a quick goodbye and hung up.
“Wow.” Speaking fast, Anabel repeated everything to Tyler.
“One of them is clearly lying,” Tyler mused. “But who?”
“And why?” While Anabel didn’t entirely trust the pastor, she trusted Tammy even less. “One of those two knows something about why your sister is missing. We need to figure out which one, and maybe that will help us find her.”
Leroy yowled from the kitchen, reminding her it was past his mealtime.
“I need to feed my cat. And...” She eyed her salad longingly. “...eat my own meal.”
As she headed to get the cat food, Tyler followed, studying her pet. “I wish there was a way to talk to him.”
Startled, she looked up at him. “Talk to who? Leroy?”
“Yes. Obviously he sensed something when we did not.”
Reaching for the container of cat food, she shrugged. “Cats are sort of known for stuff like that. And I did feel something, though it was just a slight tingle of energy.”
The instant she spoke, she felt it again. Even worse, Leroy, who’d never missed a meal in his life, let out a screeching yowl and turned tail and ran.
* * *
One minute Tyler had been standing there talking to Anabel, eyeing her cat in order to refrain from admiring Anabel’s lush body, and the next, he found himself surrounded by complete and utter darkness.
Meanwhile, he had no idea what might have happened to Anabel.
Tyler swore. He might be dead, he might be a ghost, but he had been a soldier. And he was damn tired of getting pushed around.
“Show yourself,” he shouted, clenching his teeth as he spun in the mind-numbing absence of light. “If you’re so all-fired powerful, why are you afraid to show yourself?”
Lightning struck, a maelstrom of overbright flashes, painful even to ghostly eyes. And then nothing. Not even a rumble of thunder.
“The hell with you,” he shouted, beyond caring if anyone even heard him. He was sick of being powerless and having to rely on someone else to do things he wanted to do himself.
A thought occurred to him. While he knew nothing about the man who’d imprisoned Dena—other than the fact that he was a warlock—he knew men. Most men could not resist a challenge.
“You know, I don’t think you’re so powerful,” he shouted into the void. “You have to pick on weak, defenseless young women. Why don’t you take on someone your own size, someone like me? I think I know why. It’s because you’re afraid.”
Nothing. Tyler’s heart sank. For all he knew, the warlock had already departed, leaving nothing but his dark magic behind.
A yowl had him spinning around. A second later, he relaxed, realizing that it sounded like Leroy. Which meant, despite the inability to see, he might actually have remained in Anabel’s kitchen. This also might have something to do with the warlock’s refusal to show himself.
For whatever reason, apparently the warlock didn’t want Anabel to see his face.
Right now Tyler had had enough of being blind and powerless. Even though he knew he’d never had Anabel’s kind of magic, he gathered his frustration, his rage and his worry for Dena, gathered all of it into a roiling mass of emotion. And then, opening his arms wide, he flung it into the universe. With a grunt and a heartfelt desire that the warlock would take the brunt of it like a fist to the stomach.
Instantly, the darkness vanished, as though Tyler had simply snapped his fingers and made it disappear.
And, as he’d suspected, he’d remained in Anabel’s kitchen. “How about that?” he marveled, turning to see Anabel minus her cat, still standing exactly where she’d been. As if time had stopped, freezing her in place.
“Anabel?” While he stared, Anabel blinked and slowly came back to life. Leroy sauntered into the room and began grooming himself.
Tyler felt a flash of fear.
“What just happened?” Anabel asked quietly, her amber eyes wide with fear, her expression puzzled. “I couldn’t see you, but yet I felt your presence.”
“What about him? Could you tell the warlock was here?”
Her frown told him she couldn’t, even before she gave a slow shake of her head.
“He’s learned how to shield himself from you or something,” he said.
“Maybe.” She eyed him. “But what I want to know is, how did you send him away? You had to have used magic. Why didn’t you tell me you had magical ability?”
“I don’t. At least, not that I’m aware of.” He paused, collecting his thoughts.
“Well, if that wasn’t magic, I don’t know what it was.”
She had a point.
“Tell me exactly what you did,” she ordered, pushing a strand of her midnight hair behind her ear and then putting the bowl of cat food in front of Leroy. Keeping her gaze on him, she then reached for her salad and began eating.
He wondered if she could see the sensual light that passed between them.
“Tyler?”
Collecting himself, he nodded. “I gathered my emotions and sent them out like a bullet toward the darkness. And bam. Just like that, everything went back to normal.”
“That’s magic. Of course, my understanding is a bit limited. I’m learning, though, and what you just described sounds a lot like what Juliet told me to do. Focus, concentrate and then...magic.”
The idea that he, a ghost, had any magic should have been laughable. But the desperate need to save his sister had Tyler grasping at straws. “Maybe we need to talk to Juliet. I’m thinking if I do have magic, and you and I put ours together, we might be invincible.”
Anabel nodded, clearly not convinced. She continued eating, clearly trying to get her salad down before something else happened.
“It’s worth a shot,” he persisted. “Call her and ask her.”
“Fine.” She glanced at her watch. “But it’ll have to wait. Her next yoga class just started.”
Antsy, Tyler nodded. What had happened earlier with him and the dark magic felt as though it had energized him. While Anabel finished her dinner, he left her house, floating high above the neighborho
od, heading downtown and gazing down at the town where he’d grown up. Leaning Tree, New York.
He’d missed it while stationed in Afghanistan. But places and things were transitory. People were not. Most of all, he’d missed his baby sister. Knowing she was in trouble and being powerless to help her was awful, as bad as or even worse than dying.
Thinking back to the way he’d been able to gather up energy, he wondered. Maybe he wasn’t nearly as powerless as he’d thought. And if he and Anabel put their resources together, they might have a shot at beating this warlock.
By the time he returned to Anabel, night had fallen. In the middle of her bedtime preparations, she greeted him with a sleepy smile. “I wasn’t able to reach Juliet,” she said. “But I left her a message. I’m sure she’ll call me in the morning.”
Stunned, his chest tight, he managed to nod back, even though he had his heart in his throat. He wondered how she could be so unaware that her smile was a thing of great beauty. “Sleep well,” he murmured. “I’ll catch you in the morning.”
With a casual wave, he drifted into the other room. He knew she’d think he’d left, retreating to whatever place spirits went. Instead he waited, knowing she’d drift off in a few minutes. Then he’d go into her room and spend the night guarding over her.
He found he enjoyed watching her sleep, taking care that she didn’t know. The instant her breathing would change, indicating she’d soon wake, he’d retreat, taking himself into another room. She would have been horrified to find him there, no doubt citing her sleep-ruffled hair and drowsy eyes. Again, he marveled how it could be possible she had no idea how beautiful she was. Or how sexy and full of life.
Thinking back to his too-short life, he knew if he’d met Anabel while he was alive, he’d never have let her go. No wonder Dave had married her. He actually found himself jealous of the other man.
Dave had been one lucky guy. Tyler couldn’t believe they’d been in the same unit. While he was thinking of that, one small thing in the back of Tyler’s memory had been bothering him. At base, it had been common practice for the men to flash photos of their girlfriends or wives and family. Tyler couldn’t remember one single instance of Dave ever doing this.
Heck, Tyler would have been showing Anabel’s picture to anyone who’d look at it.
Which, when he thought about it, sort of blew his mind. Why on earth any man, married to a woman as special as Anabel, wouldn’t want to show her off was beyond him.
Anabel stirred, drawing his attention back to her. Watching her like this felt like torture, an addictive combination of pleasure and pain. He burned for her, the irony of that longing striking him as retribution. Before his tour in Afghanistan, he’d never been a monk. In fact, he’d been far from it. His friends had always joked about that, claiming he’d dated 75 percent of the women in the county. And while he’d never made promises, he was under no illusions that he might have broken a heart or two. Maybe this was payback.
Throw in his worry over his sister, and he might as well have entered the first or second layer of hell.
Dena no longer called out to him or even tried to reach him. He could no longer even detect the slightest spark, which made his stomach turn and his chest hurt. He could only hope the bastard hadn’t killed her. Surely not. Not in the short number of hours that had passed since Tyler saw her, huddled in that dank and foul room.
“A dragon,” Anabel said clearly, startling him as he realized she’d come awake suddenly, without any warning.
She sat up in bed, her dark hair cascading wildly over her alabaster shoulders, her bronze eyes gleaming in the shadowy room. The pull of attraction was so strong he had to clench his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her.
“What?” he managed to say, swallowing hard as he fought to remain unaffected by her lush beauty.
She blinked as she realized he was there. “How did you— Never mind. It’s not important. I saw him. The man who has your sister.”
Stunned, he stared. “You saw him? You saw his face?”
“No. Not that.” Rubbing her eyes, she winced. “But I came up on him from behind. And then he shape-shifted, right before I reached him.” She began speaking faster, her words all running together, almost as if she feared he wouldn’t believe her. “And when he changed, he wasn’t a wolf.”
Tyler waited. The Pack wasn’t the only shape-shifting species. There were bears and leopards too. Such a thing wasn’t that unusual. “What did he become?” he finally asked, when she didn’t continue.
“A dragon. Like the ones in medieval tapestries or myths. The beast was huge, with iridescent scales and wings twice as long as a man.”
He relaxed. Not that he didn’t believe her, but clearly what she thought she’d seen had been only a dream. “Dragons are the stuff of ancient legends,” he said carefully, admiring her imagination. “Maybe since it was only a dream, you should consider the possibility that it wasn’t reality.”
Those marvelous eyes sparked defiance. “Oh, it was real.” The certainty in her voice still didn’t sway him. “I went there, followed him to his lair. It’s underground, like a tornado shelter or bunker. In the woods, like maybe a remote part of the Catskill Forest Preserve or something.”
Taking a deep breath, she rushed on. “I saw Dena, as well. She’s still alive. Barely, but her heart still beats and she still breathes.”
Relief flooded him, even though he still wasn’t sure whether or not to believe her. “That’s good. I haven’t been able to feel her at all.”
“He’s cloaked her. And himself, which is why I couldn’t sense his presence here.”
He thought about it for a moment and then decided he had to ask. “Are you sure?”
She didn’t even hesitate. “Yes. This was not a dream.”
Right then he knew he had to choose. “I believe you,” he finally said.
Excitement made her copper eyes shine. “We finally know what we’re dealing with. Now we just need to make a plan and free your sister.”
A plan. Dealing with a mythical beast no one thought still lived. “How do you know all this? You’re just learning about magic.”
A quizzical smile spread over her face. “Good point. I don’t know. I just do. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”
“A dragon, huh?” Still trying to process the idea.
“Yes.” Her voice went dreamy. “He was beautiful, in a frightening sort of way. All glistening scales, blue and green, the colors of a stormy sea. And when he unfurled his wings and launched himself into the sky, I ran after him. I don’t think he ever saw me.”
From what he remembered reading about dragons, she was lucky the beast hadn’t noticed her.
“Even better,” Anabel continued, “when he took off and I ran after him, I couldn’t help checking out the surrounding area. I saw a few landmarks that might give us some indication of where he’s keeping your sister.”
Now, this was progress. “Tell me,” he ordered. “I know this area like the back of my hand.”
Jumping up from her bed, she crossed to the dresser, her long legs flashing ivory. She grabbed a pad of paper and a pen and began to make notes. “I have to get this down before I forget,” she explained. “I’ll let you look at them once I’m finished.”
Too impatient to wait, he drifted slightly above her and watched as she sketched out what she’d seen. To his dismay and disbelief, he didn’t recognize a single landmark. “What’s this? A windmill?”
“Yes,” she said, putting the finishing touches on her sketch. “One of those decorative ones, though larger than normal. Something like this should be unusual enough that even if you don’t know where it is, someone will.”
He nodded. “What about this?” She’d drawn something that looked like the shell of a concrete building, without windows or doors, exc
ept for a single metal door in the middle. “A bomb shelter?”
“Maybe.” With a sheepish expression, she shrugged. “I have no idea what it is, but that’s where the dragon lives and where he’s keeping Dena. I drew it exactly like I saw it. I take it you don’t know either?”
“No. Sorry.” At her crestfallen expression, he actually reached for her, wincing as his hand passed right through her shoulder and then hoping she hadn’t noticed. “It’s okay. These landmarks are better than nothing. If we start asking around, maybe we can locate them.”
Exhaling, she nodded. “Now what do we do?”
A quick glance at the clock revealed it was just after 4:00 a.m. “I think you should try and go back to sleep. We can work on this again in the morning.”
“Sleep?” She sounded affronted. “There’s no way I can sleep now.”
“Well, you can’t call Juliet,” he said. “Can you?”
She laughed. “Not at this hour of the morning. How about I look in these books for now?” she said in a reasonable tone of voice. “And see what I can find out about dragons. Maybe there’ll be some mention of this sort of thing in there.”
“Okay.”
She dragged her hand through her hair. “Give me a minute.” She padded into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
He decided to wait in the living room.
A minute later, she reappeared, pushing back strands of midnight hair from her heart-shaped face. Her delicately carved face turned pink with excitement. As he let his gaze rove over her, he saw she’d slipped on a bra and a pair of denim shorts, though she still wore the clingy oversize T-shirt.
A bolt of pure lust rendered him unable to speak. Fortunately for him, Anabel had focused her attention on books.
“Let me see.” Eyeing the stack of books, she grabbed the largest one. It had an ornate leather-looking cover, embossed with scrolls and medieval-type writing. “This one seems the oldest.”
Carrying it into the kitchen, she pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. She began flipping through the pages.
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