you want to know if a golden sex machine is in your future. Man, I can always use one of those—although I prefer my men dark.”
Allie had to smile. “He’s mine, girl.”
Sam shrugged.
But Tabby was serious. “How many times have you wished for a warrior to help you while you healed? I do recall that being your exact word—warrior. I have this sense that your mother is sending you someone.” Her eyes were bright with excitement.
Allie’s heart raced. “Maybe she’s sending me a CDA agent.”
“Those guys are ex–Special Ops. That’d do the trick,” Sam said.
Tabby whispered, “I’m not Brie, not by a long shot, but should I get my cards?”
Allie tensed. Tabby was gifted with the Tarot. She didn’t have Brie’s incredible Sight, but the cards usually spoke to her. “Use mine.”
A moment later, Tabby had laid out a simple seven-card spread. While Allie was familiar with the cards, she never read them like Tabby, but she saw the Knight of Swords. “Is that him?” she asked quietly, the hairs rising on her neck as she looked at the knight on his white charger, sword in hand.
Tabby looked up. “No. That’s him.” She pointed to the Emperor. He had been dealt upside down.
Allie’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“This spread is about him, Allie—and it is Fate.” She pointed. “Five of these cards are from the Major Arcana.”
Allie trembled. “I see that.”
“Someone is coming from the past—not your past. There is another woman here, and she’s hurt. The man is older, with great authority. He has power and faith, and his quest is Justice.” She added, “Allie, he is blessed.”
Allie breathed. It was hard to believe that her golden warrior would be an older man. “Is the other woman my mother? Is my mother hurt?” Had her mother become trapped between worlds? She’d heard it was possible and that might explain her odd visit.
“I don’t know who this other woman is, but like the Knight of Swords, she is a bridge between you and this man. She is very important to you both. She’s come up as the Queen of Cups. Allie? Your life is about to be turned upside down.” Tabby pointed at a card showing the Tower, which was being struck by lightning, people jumping from it. It was next to the Death card.
Every interpretation claimed the Death card did not symbolize death. Most readers refused to read literal death in the cards, but not Tabby. In her world, the Death card was just that, if juxtaposed correctly to other cards. “Does someone die?” Allie wasn’t chilled—the innocent died every day. Death was a fact of life.
“Someone dies,” Tabby whispered seriously. She pointed at the Sun, lying beneath Death. “But from the ashes, comes a new day.”
Their gazes locked.
Brianna stepped into the room, clad in a shapeless black pantsuit.
Allie started.
Brianna didn’t smile. She walked over to them and stared at the reversed Emperor. “He is here.”
IT WAS MIDNIGHT when Allie stepped outside onto the flagstone patio by the pool. She’d had enough of the fund-raiser. She didn’t give a damn about politics except when the politicians fucked up and the little guy suffered because of it.
She’d stolen out, leaving Brian at the bar with Tabby and a few other guests, not having had a chance to really talk with him. She had a rare headache, and knew she was still off from last night.
She wanted to get past the guests who were lingering at the brilliantly lit-up pool without being waylaid. She crossed the lawns, leaving the pool and her father’s guests behind, thinking about her mother, the golden warrior and Brie’s stunning statement. She paused by the split-rail fence so she could watch their Thoroughbreds grazing under the moonlight. Was her golden warrior really present?
Was her mother sending someone to her, someone to help her in her ambition to heal those in suffering?
Allie smiled almost sadly. On the day of her death, as if she’d known she was going to pass, Elizabeth Monroe had asked Allie to make vows. She’d sworn to keep her powers secret and worship as she’d been raised, in her mother’s ancient religion. And she had sworn to never turn her back on any suffering creature, great or small, human or beast, if it was Innocent.
Her father hadn’t ever gotten over his wife’s death. Her father was a Fortune 500 entrepreneur, as different from Elizabeth as anyone could be, and maybe that was why he’d loved her so. Unlike his friend Trump, he paid people to keep his name—and her and her stepbrother’s—out of the news. William Monroe hadn’t remarried, although he had many model girlfriends.
Allie loved her mogul father, but didn’t understand him very well. She had learned long ago not to let her father see her spiritual side, just as Elizabeth had hidden it from him when she was alive. He didn’t have a clue that she was a Healer. He expected her to serve on various boards and marry Brian or someone just like him. Allie didn’t mind being on the Board of Directors of the Elizabeth Foundation, which gave away huge sums of money to philanthropies and charities with her direction. She’d barely made it through high school, and while healing could easily be a full-time job, she didn’t dare do so openly. She was the Monroe heiress, and the media watched her pretty closely. She had to be careful, always.
She had to pretend to fit in with everybody in his world when she didn’t really fit in at all, except with Sam, Tabby and Brie—and the evil monsters who wanted to murder them all. Allie sighed, staring at the grazing horses. Even in bed with a great guy like Brian, she had to pretend to be something she was not. Allie was certain her father suspected that his wife had been far more than your average socialite; she was determined he’d never guess the truth about his daughter. But hiding out most of the time was hard.
And then she felt Brian, even before he called her name.
She shoved her brooding aside. Brian was approaching and she smiled at him, hoping Tabby would put a love spell on him really soon. He was going to be hurt and that went against her very nature. Unfortunately her sex drive was too high for her to avoid men and be celibate.
“Hey. Are you okay? First you split on me last night and tonight you’ve been quiet. You’re never quiet.”
Allie hesitated. “I have a headache. Are you still mad about last night?”
“You cut and ran, Allie,” he said quietly, but not with accusation.
“I couldn’t sleep so I went out for a drive.” That was, she thought, a part of the truth.
His gaze was searching. “You’re an amazing woman, Allie.” He hesitated. “It’s not happening, is it?”
He knows, she thought, saddened but relieved. She touched his arm. “I am awful at relationships, Brian. They never last. It’s not you. It’s me. I’m not like other women. I’ve never been in love.”
He shook his head. “That makes you even more desirable.”
It was time to tell him it
