by Beth Caudill
Crossing the room, she looked out the window. The lake’s surface sparkled in placid splendor, while the limbs of the three closest willow trees swung in a gentle breeze. Peaceful. Serene. Enchanting.
She could learn to love this place.
Too bad it was her duty to move around, helping people.
She had at least two weeks to decide her future. Time enough to wait for her car to be fixed and a trip to the beach for some sunbathing. Maybe a dolphin cruise. Anything to help grow into her skin again.
Feeling implacable, she turned away. She needed food, and maybe a bit of company to take her mind off her job. People watching was a soothing pastime and let her imagine herself a part of the crowd, even if she didn’t talk to anyone. She didn’t have friends, only bosses. The ones who brought her here. She could never decide if they should be hugged or smote. Or a bit of both.
Outside, the muggy humidity clamped around her. The couple of blocks to the diner felt like a marathon. Once inside the eatery, she took a huge breath of air-conditioned air. The hair on her arms lifted. It could have been the difference in temperature, but her instincts gravitated toward something else causing the reaction.
Someone harbored ill-intentions strong enough for her to sense.
Everyone had destructive thoughts from time to time. Wisps of malice that drifted away and made room for joyful experiences. Only someone who delighted in those negative sensations could contaminate the area around them.
The taint drifted in the air, an almost imperceptible miasma she should ignore. Except that its presence in a protected town aroused the power within her. She suppressed the energy before she started to glow and radiated everyone in the diner with euphoria.
Nothing like announcing yourself as an angel as the first thing you did.
Leyna shook her head. She didn’t like taking up space in a booth, so she sat at the empty bar. She pulled a menu from between the salt and pepper shakers and considered her options. The chili cheese fries looked mouthwatering, but not exactly what she wanted.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” a red-haired waitress called as she rushed by with a pitcher of water and what looked like tea.
Leyna settled on roasted chicken breast with a side of green beans and cinnamon apples. A meal that wouldn’t make her feel guilty about indulging. The waitress brought a glass of ice water with a lemon, and then took her order.
Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, she glanced at the other patrons. Four teenagers occupied the back table in a shadowed corner. A silver-haired male sat in the first booth with his back to her. All she could make out was his hand holding a newspaper, a large golden nugget ring on his pointer finger.
Not many people to watch, yet her nerves were strung tight.
The bell tinkled, and a slight breeze brought the heady scent of pine. A man entered and seized her attention. Although he was of average height, maybe five-foot-nine or ten, his russet brown hair and neatly trimmed beard gave him a roguish, marauding air. But what ensnared her was his eyes.
His dark brown orbs glowed in their scrutiny of the room. She couldn’t look away. Her breath hitched when his gaze landed on her. His potent examination enveloped her, blocked her awareness of anyone but him. A connection that rocked her inner core, cracked the shield on which she based her life as a guardian angel.
She blinked. Sound roared around her. People talking, utensils clacking against plates, the rustle of a paper. Everything was sharper, and for a moment, she was overwhelmed by the colors surrounding her.
Then, everything returned to normal if a bit muted. He sat at the bar, an empty seat between them. Rolling her straw wrapper into a ball, she flicked it against the silver napkin stand. She didn’t understand the disappointment that flared for a moment because he hadn’t sat next to her. Guardian angels did not find humans attractive. They did not form love at first sight, or other impulsive emotions that drove humans.
Except looking at him provoked all sorts of heated thoughts that she’d never had before. Guardians did not have flings. Not when a sexual encounter would cause the loss of one’s wings.
She should ignore the man, and the troubling roil of emotions he brought with him. Yet she kept taking a peek at him. Not only did he draw her as a woman, but there was something in his nature that stirred her power as well.
He needed her help.
The waitress placed a glass of iced tea in front of him. “What’re you hungry for tonight?”
“All sorts of things, but I’ll play it safe, and have the meatloaf with scalloped potatoes and fried okra.”
The waitress laughed. “Vithar, honey, playin’ it safe is boring. But don’t worry, I’ll add a slice of chocolate pie for you. It’ll provide that totally orgasmic experience you’re lacking.” The woman patted his hand before sashaying behind the swinging kitchen door.
The rich tones of his laughter fascinated her. She’d never felt a pull like this. It unsettled her angelic powers yet unfurled a part of her heart that wanted something more.
She took a bite of her chicken and moaned. It was delicious. He flirted with the waitress when the woman stopped by, yet neither one seemed serious. His eyes always came back to her.
The waitress removed their plates. “Would you like some pie?”
Leyna had a sweet tooth, and there were so many choices in the display case by the register. So many choices. “Which do you recommend more, the strawberry pie or the chocolate silk?”
“Would you like to share?”
She jumped at the voice so very near.
Vithar leaned toward her, an alluring smile on his face. “We could each order a slice of pie and switch half.” While he exuded an impish charm, there was something daring in the twinkle of his eyes.
She should have been wary, yet effervescence fizzed inside her. “I’m not sure I should share pie with anyone I’ve not been introduced to.”
“That’s easily taken care of.” He held out his hand. “I’m Vithar Woodward.”
She shook his hand. “Leyna.” She rubbed her hands along her arms.
He slid across the empty stool between them. Now their legs bumped against each other.
She stared at the pies again and shrugged. To the waitress, she said, “I’ll take the strawberry, and you already promised him a slice of the chocolate silk.”
His eyebrows raised, but he nodded to the waitress. He slid into the seat beside her, their thighs almost touching. The room seemed to shrink to just the two of them. Her temperature soared just by his presence next to her.
“Thank you,” she said.
“My pleasure.” His hand rubbed against hers as he grabbed his fork.
The waitress set the desserts down, a smile upon her face. “Enjoy, you two.”
“Here.” He held out the first bite of his chocolate pie. A thick mound of airy chocolate.
She took a bite, and her eyes held his. The bittersweet taste of chocolate burst on her tongue. “Good.” She took her fork and poked a huge strawberry covered in glaze.
Holding out her fork, she watched as his lips wrapped around the succulent berry. A smile tugged at his lips as those eyes bored into hers. Her cheeks heated, and she had to look away.
She caught a glimpse of the man who held the newspaper. He was older, his white hair stylishly cut, and immaculate in his khakis and polo. He appeared out of place in this more rustic setting.
He inclined his head at her, but his gaze held a darkness that devoured light. She shivered as a lick of cold air traveled down her spine. He tossed some money on the table and left.
“Is everything all right?” Vithar asked.
She attempted to smile. “Yes. Just a chill.”
“I see.” His attention pulled away from her, opening space between them.
For a second, she regretted that he’d retreated, yet it was for the best. She wasn’t staying, and she didn’t really know him.
He attempted to give her another bite of his pie, but she shook her h
ead. With her appetite diminished, she focused on her own strawberry goodness. Her agitated nerves might have ruined the moment, but the pie was delicious.
An uneasy silence settled between them.
Only the waitress bringing them bills broke the quiet. They paid, and she turned to him. “It was nice meeting you.”
“You too.” He followed her out the door into the twilight. “Would you like company on your walk?”
Her heart leaped. “How did you know I walked here?”
“You’re new in town. The Witching Hour’s the only place within walking distance that’s close enough to have dinner, and the side parking lot is almost empty.”
“Oh.” She attempted to control her beating heart. “Thank you. I’d like the company.”
They strolled past darkened storefronts. A few people walked along the opposite side of the street, but only the crickets filled the night with sound. She watched him from the corner of her eye. He matched her stride easily and didn’t seem troubled by the slower pace she set. He appeared confident and comfortable in his skin.
Something she wished she possessed. Her current unhappiness with her life opened the door to self-doubt and made her weaker than she should be. She certainly couldn’t start a relationship, even for a night. If she was going back to her job, chastity was a requirement.
They stopped along the white picket fence surrounding the property.
“Thank you for the escort.” She held out her hand and winced. Being rude wasn’t in her character, but something more intimate wasn’t within her current capabilities.
His hand clasped hers, and heat tingled in her palm. “I enjoyed your company. I hope we meet again.” His thumb brushed across the top of her hand before he let go.
A sense of disappointment swamped her. Irrationally, it hurt that he was willing to walk away so easily.
A thunderous boom shook the air around them. Vithar slammed through the gate, and she ran after him around the left side of the house. Shadows flickered in the darkness until they ran into the backyard past the back deck.
Not directly behind the house, but on the opposite side of the lake, a willow tree burned.
Green and sickly yellow flames engulfed the drooping limbs. The cracking of wood carried across the water, an eerie sound of torment. Acrid smoke spiraled upward with sparks drifting through the air. High above, white, lilac, and light blue lights shimmered across the sky. A dazzling show that added to an impending sense of doom, despite the beautiful display.
Clearly, this was no ordinary town.
Daphne walked past her toward the shoreline. Tears pooled in the other woman’s eyes. Anguish radiated from her as if the tree’s death afflicted her.
More people arrived, their shadows dancing in the eerie green light. Including a man in a cop uniform and an older woman whose shoulders slumped as she leaned against Daphne. All around, emotion battered her. Begged for her to intercede, to take their pain away.
“Hey, are you okay?” Vithar grabbed her arm and drew her back against the deck.
She blinked. Distance helped ease the throbbing, reducing the pressure to a minor headache. “Yes.” She tried to smile. The skeptical look in his eyes told her she didn’t succeed at easing his worry.
“I’ll be around talking to everyone. Fremont will probably put this on the front page of the paper tomorrow.”
“Fremont?”
He took a step away. “My brother. We own the biweekly newspaper.” He turned half away; his gaze focused across the lake. “I…” His voice trailed away as his lips pursed. “Maybe I’ll see you again.”
A small part of her took offense at the hasty way he ran from her, the sensation as alien to her nature as the dismay that she might not see him before she left town. So far, her “vacation” had been anything but relaxing.
Whether she liked it or not, this town was in trouble, and her powers would be needed. She straightened. If nothing else, her bosses had given her a purpose. One she intended to fulfill to the best of her abilities.
Moonlight spilled across Leyna’s upturned face. She stood where he left her, against the back porch of the Witching Hour. Vithar couldn’t stop himself from checking on her as he interviewed people. Daphne and Annabel were especially important as descendants of the town’s founding wardens. He had a few quotes for Fremont to run tomorrow.
The flames engulfing the tree appeared stronger than when he’d first glimpsed the disaster. On the Gracelynne Shroud Park side of the lake, Ranger Lawke Morgan tried to douse the blaze.
He joined Willow and Eiraurs by their tree. It was the third weeping willow tree on this side of the lake. Willow was diminutive, her skin a pale green. She was a dryad, literally the tree’s protector. Eiraurs was her spouse, although his pointed ears proclaimed Earth was not his native land.
Both looked younger than their apparent years, yet their eyes portrayed knowledge long lost. Rumor stated Willow had been here since the beginning of Willows Haven. He could believe it, although it was never polite to ask. Particularly since he didn’t want to share his own history. If he survived the curse, in a few weeks, he’d turn 129 years old.
The curse prolonged his existence, an unwelcome gift that saw many great advances along with the many horrors that man perpetrated. His life moved forward, yet he never aged physically past twenty-eight. For good or ill, his reality had been paused these last one hundred years.
“How are you holding up?” Willow’s complexion was paler than normal. Almost paler than white dogwood flowers in spring.
“She’s fine,” Eiraurs answered. The way his arms wrapped around her seemed to be more than comfort.
While Vithar enjoyed talking to people, asking invasive questions was his least favorite part of the job. “How does losing this tree affect the protections around the town? Neither Annabel nor Daphne have been through something of this magnitude.”
A deep, rumbling warning made it clear what the elf thought of the question.
“Everything will be fine for the town.” Willow took a deep breath. “The protection spell is mainly fueled by the three willows on this side of the lake. The others are support, but not essential to the town.”
“Come.” Eiraurs lifted her into his arms. “These noxious fumes are not good for you.” He took her down the slight hill, away from the wind.
Several more groups dispersed as the wind blew noxious fumes their way. Including Leyna who entered the bed-and-breakfast from the back deck.
Vithar closed his notebook and watched the flickering shadows. What evil had invaded their safe haven? Did the culmination of the Woodward curse have anything to do with this? He couldn’t answer those questions, but he’d bet it wasn’t a coincidence, either.
From the middle of the lake, a dragon burst out of the water. She breathed orange flames at the tree. He didn’t think more flames would help, but the water wasn’t putting out the magical conflagration.
A large explosion knocked the dragon back into the water. Chunks of timber rained down, leaving bits of wood in the water. Flames of yellow shot from the center of the stump like an overzealous sparkler.
A final cry of anguish from the fiery tree raised the hair on the back of his neck before the flames extinguished, and the night was eerily still. Not even a breeze disturbed the unnaturally calm lake. Above, the night sky shimmered with waves of pink, yellow, green, and a silvery-white.
The town had been a supernatural haven and his family’s home for more than twenty-five years. He might lose the fight for ending his curse, but he wouldn’t bring the town down with him.
He’d stop whoever threatened this peaceful haven.
He had nothing else to lose. Already, his life was forfeit.
3
Wisps of smoke hung in the air as Leyna strolled along the sidewalk. Bob had less than stellar news for her. The car needed a part that wasn’t in stock. It could be ready tonight, or several days from now. She had little hope of leaving the town quickly.
If she was stuck here, at least she knew where to find some company. Vithar was a reporter—he’d be at the newspaper. Particularly after last night.
She walked into the office, surprised to see the room sparsely furnished. She’d expected computers and people. Instead, the walls were adorned with whiteboards filled with colored boxes. There was one computer on a rolltop desk.
Not at all what she expected from a newspaper office.
Footfalls drew her eye to a long hallway. Vithar walked in, holding a newspaper, his eyes focused on the paper before him.
She cleared her throat. “Morning.”
He dropped the paper, reached behind him, and then brought a hammer into a defensive stance. His eyes bored into hers. They were still a dark brown but there was a glare, a dark menace that hadn’t been there last night.
“Vithar.” Her breath caught in her throat.
He relaxed a bit. “No. That would be my twin.” After setting the hammer on the desk, he held out his hand. “Name’s Fremont.”
“Is Vithar around?”
“No. He worked late last night. He’s probably still asleep.” The gruff response exacerbated the menace pouring off him.
Disappointment dimmed her enjoyment of the day. She’d hoped to spend more time with him to make up for the discomfort of last night. “Please tell him Leyna stopped by. Thanks.” She turned and escaped the building.
Clouds hid the sun, and a breeze cooled her bare arms. It was still early May, and a drop in temperature wasn’t unheard of, but the chill held more bite than normal.
“You should stay away from the Woodwards.”
The deep voice startled her. She turned and found the man from the diner. Up close, he had a more distinguished style, but the evil in his aura pulsed in time with her heartbeat.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“If you value your existence as a guardian, you’ll want to stay away from those brothers.” His magnetism washed over her.