inn?”
With a smug smile, the man said, “Something like that.”
Get to the fine print. “So what would I need to do?”
He spoke with a casual air. “Become our ally. Report to us on the goings-on of the town. Especially the inn and its proprietress.”
No harm in spying on her, right? Somehow it sounded too easy. “What’s it have to do with me and Eric?”
When the man smiled, the air in the car grew hot. And smelled like something burning. Something awful, like rotten eggs.
“Let’s leave that to my employer and me, shall we?” he sneered, easing closer.
Sheree’s vision blurred. She fought to murmur, “I don’t know.”
Red flashed in his eyes like flames. “Of course you do. You want Eric so badly, you’ll do anything. Won’t you?”
An urge came over her, compelling her to answer. “Anything.”
“I thought so.” His voice trailed into a hiss.
Gripping the steering wheel, Sheree touched her forehead to it. “Anything.”
“Excellent. One note of caution. If anyone asks, never mention me or my employer or this agreement.”
She snapped her head up. “Who’d care? Other than Mrs. Gibson?”
“If the need for you to know arises, you will.”
Sheree didn’t even care. She just wanted this guy out of her car sooner rather than later. She imagined walking hand-in-hand with Eric, him stopping to pull her close, bending to touch his lips to hers.
A knock on the window startled her.
A state trooper stood outside.
“Great.” She opened the window, her mind racing with possible excuses.
His grimace filled with suspicion. “Everything all right, miss?”
“Yes, officer. I’m a bit dizzy. Nothing serious.” Stupid! Now he’d think she was drunk.
Straightening, he sighed. “Right. Step out of the car please.”
“Both of us?” How would she explain this guy to a policeman? Her passenger’s appearance went way beyond any Halloween costume. She didn’t even know his name, for crying out loud.
The officer crouched again and scanned the interior. “Pardon?”
“Do you want us both to get out?” She gestured to the passenger side and froze.
The seat was empty.
* * * *
A knock echoed through the hall. Joss rushed to the front door. Another great gust of wind ruffled the scarf of the woman standing on the threshold. Diminutive, yet she projected a force to reckon with, her sapphire eyes sparkling as she assessed Joss with a loving smile. Short hair framed her face in layers, mostly gray but still a hint of blond.
“Gram. How did you get here so quickly?” Delighted, Joss hugged her.
The last party guest departed minutes earlier, followed by Annie. Her grandmother must have left her Solebury home immediately after speaking to Lydia. A two and a half hour drive, and one she’d rarely endeavored during Joss’s marriage due to John’s disapproval of the family’s magical practices.
Now Gram stepped inside without hesitation. “I needed to see for myself if Lydia exaggerated about this wonderful inn.” Her authoritative tone clipped the air.
“And? What do you think?” Expectation hung thick as Joss waited.
“Her description didn’t quite capture its splendor.” A gleam lit Gram’s eyes. “Or its intensity. I’ve never experienced such powerful vibrations.”
“Neither have I.” Every day, its undercurrent infused her consciousness more. Life had grown dark after her husband John died three years ago. Every day, the sunlight had dimmed, and every night, the shadows blacker. Their silky depths had beckoned. Bits of her soul had wanted to follow John, to pass through the dark curtain and into his arms again. If not for Taz, Joss might have allowed herself to melt into those murky shadows.
After moving to the inn, her haze of grief dissipated to unveil colors more vivid than she’d remembered. Their brilliance breathed new life into her too. Gram would call it a good sign. Before coming here, her life ran short of those. Joss finally had turned that around.
Removing her coat, Gram said, “Certainly explains your uninvited guests tonight.”
“Yes, the biggest surprise of the evening.” She caught Lydia’s wide-eyed glance at Gram. “Lydia says you have more to tell me.”
Gram came to her side, her hazel eyes clear. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
Probably not, but putting things off never helped. “Yes.”
Gram winked at Lydia. “I think we need margaritas.”
“I sure do.” Lydia headed for the kitchen.
“That must be why I bought fresh limes today.” At the farmer’s market earlier, Joss had picked some up automatically, as she sometimes did when intuition kicked in.
“Excellent.” Linking her arm through Joss’s, Gram led her on.
Not that Joss needed further encouragement. “Please, Gram. I can’t bear to wait.”
Her grandmother patted Joss’s arm. “Do you remember when you were seven?”
“Vaguely.” Her childhood came back in a blur, fantasy mixed with reality. Her dolls had been fairy princesses riding unicorns. Dogs and cats weren’t mere family pets but dignified servants of fae royalty.
Gram smiled. “You were a special girl. You still are exceptional, of course, but as a child, your innocence was pure, and you believed without questioning.”
Believing. Joss knew where this was headed. “Yes, I had quite the imagination.”
“Call it what you will. You were favored, and still are. Because of your heritage.”
Casting a skeptical glance, Joss sat on the kitchen stool. “Oh, Gram.”
With a wicked grin, Lydia dropped the last of the ice cubes into the blender. “It’s high time you acknowledged it, Jocelyn.” Pressing the machine’s button eliminated the opportunity to argue over the loud whir. Once the mixer reduced the ice to shards, Lydia added the triple sec and tequila.
“What does it mean, exactly?” Joss asked. “I’m some sort of fairy princess?”
Rimming a glass with salt, Lydia tilted her head. “Not a princess.”
“Not even a half-blood.” Gram filled the
