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Shades of the Wolf
Karen Whiddon


Passion beyond worlds…Ever since she lost her husband, shapeshifter Anabel Lee has been haunted – by every ghost except the one she longs to see. But when Tyler Rogers appears, Anabel knows he is different. Because even though he’s a ghost, Tyler is more real than anyone she’s met in years.Tyler needs Anabel’s help. His sister has been abducted by a powerful warlock and he can sense her light fading fast. To save her, Anabel and Tyler must join their powers… but they didn’t expect to discover a passion strong enough to bridge this world and the next.







Could she lead him to the one thing he’d missed when he was alive?

Ever since her husband died in Afghanistan, shape-shifter Anabel Lee has been haunted—by every ghost except the one she longs to see. But when Tyler Rogers appears, Anabel senses something different about him. It’s not just his piercing blue eyes or sexy voice. Even though he’s a ghost, Tyler is more real than anyone she’s met in years.

Tyler needs Anabel’s help. His sister has been abducted by a powerful warlock, and he can sense her light fading fast. Confined to the spirit realm, he needs to join his powers with Anabel’s to bring his sister back from the darkness. As they work together against time and magic, will they discover a passion strong enough to bridge this world and the next?


“You look … glowing,” Tyler said, realising he sucked at compliments.

“Thank you. I guess.” Her smile made her aura illuminate even brighter, making a glowing halo around her head.

For whatever reason, he felt the need to elaborate. “I don't just mean your aura, though yours is spectacular. But your human form is beautiful.”

Anabel's smile widened, making her whiskey eyes sparkle. “Wow. Thanks. You kind of made my day.”

He found himself smiling back. Maybe he wasn't so bad at this complimenting thing after all.

He let his gaze drink her up, his entire body burning. Funny how he still felt as if he had a body, even though he didn't. Even when she turned away, completely unaware of his desire, he tracked her with his gaze.

Focus, he reminded himself. He'd come back for a reason, to save Dena, not ache for a woman he could never have.


KAREN WHIDDON started weaving fanciful tales for her younger brothers at eleven. Amid the Catskill Mountains, then the Rocky Mountains, she fueled her imagination with the natural beauty surrounding her. Karen lives in north Texas and shares her life with her hero of a husband and three doting dogs. You can e-mail Karen at KWhiddon1@aol.com (mailto:KWhiddon1@aol.com) or write to her at PO Box 820807, Fort Worth, TX 76182, USA. Fans can also check out her website, karenwhiddon.com (http://karenwhiddon.com).


Shades of the Wolf

Karen Whiddon






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Dear Reader (#ucad3045d-72ed-5ebd-8644-0e8e3c406a33),

Sometimes life can spin you around and mix you up. Often everything you thought you knew was true turns out to be a lie. For Anabel Lee, who appeared in The Wolf Siren, this is especially true. Her loneliness and sorrow inspired her to make a few bad decisions.

Even as she regrets the wrong choices she made, she wonders if she’s truly going crazy. I mean, who else can see and hear ghosts? She sends each one away, until the shade of a handsome man appears asking for her help and refuses to go.

Tyler Rogers had been stationed in Afghanistan with Anabel’s deceased husband when he lost his life, too. Yet the instant he learns his baby sister, Dena, has been taken captive by a psychopath, he reaches out to whoever can hear him. Anabel Lee.

As they work together in a race against time, Anabel draws on untapped talents and strengths. And as for Tyler, he finds the one thing he’d been missing when he was alive. Love.

I adore stories with seemingly insurmountable odds. I hope you enjoy this romance!

Karen Whiddon


Once again, to my husband. I can never thank him enough for loving me and supporting me.

He is a special man and I love him very much.


Contents

Cover (#u8f2192c8-bbbc-5e65-b27d-3acb1031fb84)

Back Cover Text (#uc7b68711-8d2c-5e10-9516-f03f680fc357)

Introduction (#uc1aa9b83-defd-59cf-85d3-bd5733c56f4b)

About the Author (#u43698984-7ff5-5eb6-bb5a-2091a8cc284c)

Title Page (#uab41d678-1a77-5e94-bae0-5e16ca696900)

Dear Reader

Dedication (#ud87797b8-644f-5701-b088-7fce3a492c45)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter 1 (#ucad3045d-72ed-5ebd-8644-0e8e3c406a33)

The man appeared in her peripheral vision, just like all the others who had come before. A hazy shape, flickering into mist before solidifying somewhat. Her black cat, Leroy, hissed his usual back-arched warning. Anabel Lee clenched her teeth and ignored the apparition, willing the ghost’s ethereal form to dissipate so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

Or worse, hear him try to speak to her. Mentally, she cringed. The voices were what bothered her the most. Whispers and muffled laughter. Wisps of conversation drifting on the breeze.

And pleas for help. Almost always cries for help. She had come to realize ghosts never appeared unless they wanted something. For whatever reason, they all seemed to think she could give it to them. Instead she steeled herself and sent them away.

This wasn’t the first time one had appeared inside her home either. They were prone to popping up in all kinds of places, everywhere. Some wailed; some screamed. Others simply glared at her with burning eyes, as if she could read whatever was left of their mind. And most asked—begged, actually. Until she ordered them gone. Doing so cut off the voices.

Since there seemed to be a method to her madness, she simply closed her eyes. “Go away,” she ordered, speaking slowly and loud. “I don’t want you here.”

Having spoken, she counted silently to ten, quite confident that when she opened her eyes again the apparition would be gone. They always went, once she ordered them gone.

Only he wasn’t. Instead it seemed he’d moved closer. Her eyes widened. Dimly, she registered he was—or had been—a beautiful man. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a narrow waist and capable, long-fingered hands. He wore his dark hair unfashionably long, which she also appreciated, since she too made a practice of skirting the edge of current style. This hair did not go with his camouflaged military fatigues and combat boots.

Leroy hissed again, then gave an indignant yowl and stalked away, his yellow cat’s eyes flashing.

“What do you want?” she asked rudely, pretty sure she already knew the answer. And she got ready to strain to hear the whisper or brace herself for the shriek, since ghosts apparently couldn’t speak in a normal tone.

“I need your help,” he said, his deep voice strong and edged with velvet. Such a sexy voice, she felt the impact all the way to her toes.

Stunned, she stared at him. “I didn’t expect that.”

One corner of his well-shaped mouth quirked. Damned if she didn’t feel a little electric tingle deep inside.

“What, that I’d need your assistance?”

“No, not that.” She waved him away. “All the ghosts want some kind of help. But you’re different. You can talk. Not whisper, but speak. That’s unusual.”

“Is it?” Appearing unconcerned, he shrugged. To her consternation, he appeared to be solidifying the longer she looked at him. Handsome, sexy and getting more real by the second. Maybe she finally had lost her mind.

“I’ve been sent back here for a reason,” he continued. “And your energy is strong. It directed me to you.”

This was new. Of course, she’d never gotten this far with a specter before. This ghost was different. For one thing, he was massive. And ruggedly handsome. His self-confidence was even sexy, making her feel something she hadn’t since David’s death. Things she definitely shouldn’t be feeling.

Resolutely, Anabel ignored him. Eventually, he’d disappear. He had to. He had no reason to hang around haunting her. She’d brought her vegetables in from her garden for dinner. She planned to roast summer squash, zucchini, tomatoes and onions. Not only did she love the fresh taste, but the bright colors made eating feel like artwork. This, along with some quinoa, had become one of her favorite meals ever since she’d decided to give vegetarianism a try.

Which had given the townspeople of Leaning Tree even more to talk about. After all, who’d ever heard of a shape-shifter who didn’t eat meat?

Anabel didn’t care. At least that was what she told herself—ever since David had been killed and she’d lost her mind, she’d long ago stopped caring about what other people thought of her.

“Earth to Anabel.” The ghost snapped his fingers. At her. And she could actually hear them. “Shutting me out won’t make me go away.”

Ignoring him should have worked. Sometimes she’d found she could actually will them away, as if she had magical power over ghosts or something. Closing her eyes, she wished him gone.

“Hello? I know you can hear me. This is really important. Otherwise I wouldn’t have come.”

Him again. Still here. Worse, he actually knew her name. None of the other ghosts had called her anything but lady, or ma’am, or even Ms.

“Fine.” Sighing, she crossed her arms and faced him. “I’m listening. Go ahead and tell me what you want.”

She expected him to immediately start listing his demands. If they followed along with the other spirits who’d visited her, they’d be along the lines of find so-and-so, my wife, my mother, my father, and tell them I love them and that I’m at peace. Which she absolutely refused to do. Mostly since she knew no one would believe her. She already had a reputation as a nut job anyway.

So she waited for him to begin his laundry list of demands before she could shoot him down.

Instead he cocked his head and studied her. Anabel realized she’d never seen eyes that hazel, in either a live man or a ghost. Especially a ghost.

“You miss him, don’t you?” he asked, his deep voice kind. “Your husband, that is.”

She started, only the slightest twitch, but she thought he noticed it anyway. “If you’re here to tell me he’s all right, that he’s not in pain and that he’s happy, don’t.”

Even though she tried to keep the misery out of her tone, she knew she’d failed. “After all,” she continued, “if he really wanted me to know, he’d have told me himself.”

“I’m sure he couldn’t.” Again the flash of a smile, far too radiant for an apparition. “It seems to be some kind of rule or something, prohibiting us from appearing to those who loved us the most.”

Which made sense. Though it didn’t lessen the hurt. “I see ghosts. Not everyone can do that. I would appreciate just a short visit, or even a message...” She broke off, squinting at him and not bothering to hide her suspicion. “And don’t take that as a good excuse to hand me some syrupy fake message. I’ll see right through you. David and I had our own form of code. He’d definitely use it to prove to me that any communication actually was from him.”

As she wound down, she noticed how his mouth quirked upward in amusement. He had a ruggedness and vital power she found very attractive. Which felt not only weird—he was a ghost, after all—but entirely unwelcome.

“I don’t have a message from anyone,” he said, not sounding the slightest bit regretful. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Irritated, embarrassed and more than a little bit flustered, she waved his words away. “Just tell me what you want so I can get on with the rest of my day.”

“What I want...” His expression stilled and grew serious. “I need you to help find my sister. Somehow she managed to reach out to me. She’s in danger.”

This was a new one. “But you’re a...ghost. You should be able to find her yourself.”

“I have tried.” He sounded frustrated. “And all I can tell is she’s in some dark, windowless place. Underground, maybe. No matter how long I search, her exact location is blocked. She’s still alive, though her light is beginning to fade. She is running out of time. The man who has her will kill her soon.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “The man who has her? Are you talking about a serial killer? Or just some sort of psycho?”

“I don’t know.” His lips thinned as his expression turned inward. “He’s probably killed more than once, because when I’m around my sister, I can also feel the whispers of other lost souls.”

A shiver snaked up her spine. This just kept getting stranger. Not only did a ghost too good-looking to be real show up, but now he was spouting stuff about serial killers? She really, really needed him to go away.

Crossing her arms, she studied him. His massive shoulders filled out army camouflage. Her stomach swooped. The combat uniform had been exactly what David was wearing when he was killed. Coincidence? She thought not.

Steeling herself, she took a deep breath. “I have to ask. Why me? I don’t even know you. Did someone else, some other ghost, send you to me?”

“No.” His quick answer crushed all her hopes. “Your energy drew me to you. I need someone with your power. Not only that, but you live in the same town as I used to. My sister still lives here.” He frowned. “Don’t you ever wonder why you can hear the voices of the dead?”

“Not really. Mostly I only hear whispers.”

“You can hear me. And the energy you send out directs the spirits to you.”

Pain stabbed her. “Funny thing, that. You’re right. I do attract a lot of departed spirits. All of them want something from me. But the one voice I most want to hear has never come to me.”

“Your husband, of course...” Gaze intense, he frowned. “Maybe I can help with that.”

“I received word David was killed in Afghanistan eighteen months ago. I just knew he’d come to me, at least to say goodbye. But he never did.”

His frown deepened. “I cannot appear physically to my sister, even though she’s in danger.”

“That’s nonsense.” The words burst from her, practically vibrating with hurt. “I hear all the time of people seeing the shade of someone close to them. I don’t understand why...” Tears pricking at the backs of her eyes, she couldn’t finish the sentence.

He dipped his chin, as if he understood. “All I can say is I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” Though for once, she’d been able to say David’s name without her voice cracking. “It’s been really tough. David and I were mates. That’s why I just don’t understand.”

“Mates. Interesting. During my time on earth, I never had the privilege of meeting my mate.”

“Not everyone does. I got lucky. And I don’t think it’s too much to ask that he contact me. Or, if there’s a rule to prevent that, he could reach out to someone else and send a message to me.” It dawned on her that was what all the other spirits she’d sent away had been trying to do and for all she knew, David might have had the same luck if he’d made the attempt.

“Sometimes, when a soul has suffered a traumatic injury, he is taken away and given positive, healing energy,” the handsome ghost continued. “Time passes differently there. Your David may not even be aware eighteen months has passed since his death. For him, it may feel merely like minutes.”

His words felt like a soothing salve poured on a festering wound. They helped, even if she didn’t really understand the logic behind what he’d said. The connection between mates should have transcended both space and time.

This ghost simply didn’t understand. She felt bad for him; she really did. And she felt worse for his poor sister. Being held prisoner in a dark place sounded like her worst nightmare come to life. Add in serial killer, and it went way beyond the realm of terrifying. So much so that she knew she didn’t want to have anything to do with it.

Now to convince him of that. She swallowed hard, lifted her chin and boldly met his gaze.

“Your eyes are the color of burnished copper,” he said.

Nonplussed, she completely lost her train of thought. “Uh. Thanks. I guess.”

The quick flash of a devastating smile further derailed her. “You’re welcome. And I should thank you, for agreeing to help.”

That snapped her out of whatever twilight land she’d gone to. “That’s just it. I haven’t agreed to anything. Look, I understand that I can hear you. But I’m just one person, a widow who, quite frankly, isn’t well regarded in this town. Serial killers scare the heck out of me too. So what do you think I can do to find your sister?”

“More than I can,” he shot back, his smile vanishing. “You have a physical presence. You can talk to people and be heard. You can ignite a fire under law enforcement. And you are able to research and hunt down the clues that occasionally flash into my consciousness. Once you and I figure out who this man is, we can have him arrested.”

Still, she considered. Lately, she’d made a career out of avoiding just about everyone in town. For all she knew, they’d laugh at her if she started asking questions about a missing girl.

“How did you die?” she asked, feeling as if she needed to know.

“In Afghanistan,” he said, his voice curt. Clearly, he didn’t like discussing his death. “Like your husband and a lot of others. For me, it was a suicide bomber at a roadside checkpoint.”

A chill snaked over her. This ghost and David had both lost their lives in a similar fashion. It couldn’t be a coincidence, even if she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

“I’ll find your husband,” he offered. “And try to bring him to you. If I can’t, I’ll bring back to you exactly what he’d like you to know. But time is of the essence. The longer Dena—my sister—is in that place, the weaker she becomes.”

Again the image. A poor woman, curled up on the cold concrete floor, hoping to ward off blows—or worse. That could be any woman, even Anabel. She had to try to save her. Just like that, she decided.

“If I help you find your sister,” she said, pretending she still didn’t know, “you say you’ll make sure David comes to me.”

“Yes.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “But not just find. Save my sister. And not if, but when.”

“Fine.” She cleared her throat. “I promise you, when I commit to something, I go all out. I will devote every spare second I have—when I’m not working, that is.” These days, unlike the job she’d had as an executive secretary when she was married to David, she worked as a cook in the back of the diner, which suited her perfectly. It was easier spending her time interacting with food rather than people.

He continued watching her, his hazel eyes both intelligent and insolent. “I’ll need your word.”

Of course he did. She decided not to tell him that her word wasn’t worth anything around this town. “Then I give you my word. I will do whatever I’m permitted to do.”

Gliding closer, in that disconcerting way of all ghosts, he held out his hand. It looked remarkably solid. Even though she knew it wasn’t. For a second, she pictured how such sensual fingers would feel on her skin.

Seriously. She gave herself a mental shake. What on earth had gotten into her?

“Tyler Rogers,” he said, the velvet murmur of his voice filling her with longing.

Damn.

“You do know I won’t be able to shake that,” she said, hoping he didn’t notice how breathless she sounded.

For half a second, he appeared abashed. And then he grinned, an irresistible, devastating grin that made her knees go weak and her entire body tingle. “You’re right,” he said, lowering his hand.

“I’ll do some checking,” they both said at the same time. Anabel found herself smiling, something she didn’t do very often. It felt good. And wrong. Again she wondered if she’d finally lost what was left of her mind.

“I’ll make sure no other ghosts bother you,” he told her, apparently not noticing her inner struggle.

As distractions went, his statement was pretty good. Intrigued, she tilted her head. “How will you do that?”

“Simple. I’ll ask my spirit guide to put a circle of protection around you.”

“What?” she started to ask. But he was gone. Just like a candle flame snuffed out by a gust of wind.

Alone again, she sighed. Maybe she’d dreamed all this up. It was entirely possible the eighteen months of celibacy since David’s death had made her come completely unhinged.

Except for one thing. Why would she even think about serial killers and sisters in need of rescue?

Whichever Tyler Rogers turned out to be, a genuine ghost or a figment of her lonely imagination, she’d do what she could to find out information on his sister. Dena, he’d said. Surely it wouldn’t be too difficult to find someone named Dena Rogers in a town the size of Leaning Tree.

That night, when she turned out the light, she went to sleep in blissful silence. No ghostly specters haunted her, not in her house or in her dreams.

* * *

The next morning, she opened her eyes and sat up in bed, feeling completely rested and refreshed. Outside, bright sunshine hinted at the heat to come, but since it was only seven in the morning, she knew it would still be comfortable outside.

In the time since David had died, she’d gradually changed her bedroom, adding little feminine touches here and there. David had hated flowers, though Anabel loved them. A new comforter—floral—and some artwork that she loved had made the room totally hers. She’d told herself she might as well like it, since she’d be spending the rest of her life alone.

Stretching, she thought of her ghostly visitor. Today was her day off. Originally she’d planned to spend it puttering in her garden and hanging out with her cat, Leroy. He was big and fluffy and black and the laziest cat she’d ever known. She loved him so much it hurt.

Instead she guessed she’d better get busy seeing what she could find out about missing girls from Leaning Tree and the surrounding area.

“Good morning,” a sexy male voice said behind her, making her jump. “I trust you slept well.”

Gasping, she spun around so fast she nearly fell. “Rule number one. You can’t just pop in and out of here whenever you feel like it.”

Boldly handsome, he stood between her bed and her window. The sunlight made copper highlights in his brown hair.

“Why not?” He sounded genuinely puzzled. “It’s what I do.”

“Well, stop it. And rule number two, no reading my mind.” She stomped off toward her bathroom, shooting him a warning look. “And stay out here until after I’ve showered and dressed.”

Once she’d closed the door, she looked at herself in the mirror and grimaced. She’d braided her long hair before bed, to keep it from tangling. That, combined with the oversize (and to be honest, ratty) T-shirt she slept in, made her look a little witchy. Since half the people in Leaning Tree thought she was a witch, she guessed it didn’t matter.

Shaking her head at her weird and out-of-place vanity, she turned the shower on hot, pulled off her T-shirt and jumped in.

Though she normally rushed through her morning preparations, since she usually had to be at the diner to cook for the breakfast crowd, this morning she took her time and enjoyed the peace and quiet. No ghostly images swirled in the steamy mirror as she blow-dried her hair. No voices cried out their muted torment while she dressed. She hadn’t realized how much she appreciated the silence until now. Maybe she wasn’t going crazy after all.

Finally, she emerged to find Tyler reclining on her sofa, long, muscular legs spread out in front of him. Today she saw he again wore a soldier’s combat uniform, camouflaged desert colors, and boots. She froze, flashing back to the last time she’d seen David, wearing the exact same thing as she’d taken him to the airport to make the long flight back to Afghanistan.

“Are you okay?” Peering closely at her, her ghostly visitor seemed a bit more solid than he had the day before.

“Don’t you know?” she asked crossly, turning away so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

“You asked me not to read your mind.”

“Oh. Right.” Crossing into the kitchen, she made herself a cup of coffee. “Thank you. And also thanks for the protection-circle thing or whatever you said. It worked. I didn’t have a single ghost last night.”

The fragrant smell of coffee made her mouth water. She poured herself a cup, adding a spoonful of powdered creamer and a packet of sweetener.

When she turned, she caught him eyeing her mug with a wistful expression.

“I miss that,” he rumbled. “Among other things.”

Heat flashed through her, so intense she nearly staggered. Not good, especially if Tyler could intuitively guess how she felt.

Deciding to let that comment go, she scowled at him. “Why are you here?”

One dark eyebrow arched. Sexy, again. “You didn’t really think I’d retreat into the ether and wait for you to summon me, did you? We’re working together on this.”

She shrugged, pretending not to care. “Fine. I’m going to do some research on the internet first. I need to find any news stories about missing girls. I also want to do a search for Dena Rogers.”

“Plus, I can tell you where she works and lives,” he offered. “We might even go there.”

“Of course.” Rummaging in the refrigerator, she grabbed the roll of bagels, sprayed each side with vegetable oil, popped them in the toaster and, when they were done, spread a generous dollop of peanut butter on each one.

Tyler watched, his hazel eyes glittering, as she retrieved her breakfast and sat down to eat it.

“What?” she finally asked. “Have you never seen anyone cook breakfast before?”

“Cook?” he snorted. “I don’t call that cooking.”

She rolled her eyes in response. Since her mouth was full, she didn’t deign to reply. Protein and carbs, and tasty too. When she’d finished, she got up, rinsed the plate off and placed it in the dishwasher. Taking a deep sip of her coffee, she padded to the room she used as an office and booted up her ancient desktop. She sensed Tyler right behind her, her awareness of him a prickling along her spine.

“You don’t have a laptop?” Tyler asked, the astonished tone in his voice making it clear he thought she lived in the Dark Ages. The mischievous look in his eyes filled her with unwanted longing. To cover, she shook her head.

“Ghosts don’t get to be picky,” she pointed out, sitting back in her chair while she waited for the computer to finish booting up. If she didn’t look at him, maybe she could manage to avoid all these unwanted feelings. “And yes, I had a laptop. David took it with him to Afghanistan. It never made it back, so I’m guessing someone from his unit kept it.”

Finishing her coffee, she got up to make another cup, walking right past his still surprisingly solid form, her heart pounding, without him commenting.

When she returned, she checked on her computer, which appeared to be ready, and clicked on the icon for Google Chrome.

“Doesn’t that drive you crazy?” he asked. “Computers aren’t that expensive anymore. I’d think it’d be worth it to spring for a new one.”

“Maybe.” Concentrating on the screen, she searched for the local newspaper. “But not today.” Once she had the paper up, she searched the archives, using keywords missing and lost and even runaway.

“I’ll be—”

Suddenly, he materialized right next to her, practically on top of her, making her jump and bump her knee on the bottom of her desk. “What?” he asked. “Let me see.”

“Don’t. Do. That.” Rubbing at her knee, she glared at him, though he didn’t even notice as he was busy reading the on-screen text.

“There are more missing women,” he breathed. “Four, including Dena. And they’re all from different towns in Ulster County.”

Immediately, she began reading too. “Your sister’s the only one from Leaning Tree.” Hitting the print icon, she eyed him. “But it doesn’t appear the police are even considering them to be linked in any way.”

“That’s where you come in.” He stretched, causing the material of his shirt to expand over his muscular arms. Suddenly, she realized he’d changed and no longer wore the camo. Instead he had on civilian clothes, a tight black T-shirt and faded, well-worn jeans, though he still wore his combat boots.

For a ghost, he looked virile as hell. Tantalizing. Captivating.

No. This had to stop. Time to shut this ridiculous and unwanted attraction down. She no longer thought about sex, or at least she tried not to. Her mate was gone and she didn’t want anyone else. Ever.


Chapter 2 (#ucad3045d-72ed-5ebd-8644-0e8e3c406a33)

Now that Anabel had settled the matter, she felt better. Straightening her shoulders, she knew she was strong enough to resist Tyler Rogers’s ghostly allure.

“Let’s go talk to the police,” he said, flickering in and out, his form alternating between solid and ethereal. She figured this was probably due to the enthusiasm vibrating in his husky voice.

Maybe she’d do better if she treated him like a brother. At least that way, his nearness would no longer be so overwhelming.

“You know, for a ghost, you sure look concrete sometimes,” she commented, clicking her computer to sleep before getting up from her chair.

“Thanks,” he said, flashing that devastating smile that sent a bolt of heat straight to her stomach—and elsewhere.

Brother, she reminded herself. “Come on.” Snatching up her car keys, she headed for the garage. “And whatever you do, don’t speak to me while I’m talking to the police. Everyone around here already thinks I’m crazy. If I start answering you back, it’ll just make it worse.”

She didn’t look to see if he followed as she opened the garage door and got in her car. The little red Fiat had been a gift from David the first year they were married. She loved everything about it, from the tan leather-trimmed seats to the upgraded radio.

“This?” Tyler said, the disbelief in his voice making her smile. “You expect me to ride in this? There’s not enough room.”

“You’ll manage,” she replied. “If not, then I guess you can wait here.” As she slid behind the wheel, he materialized in the passenger seat, legs folded almost up to his chest. She nearly laughed out loud.

Instead she masked her amusement with irritation. “Quit doing that too,” she ordered. “When you’re with me, you don’t need to act so ghostly.”

“Ghostly?” His rich laugh struck a chord low in her belly. “I am a ghost. That’s what we do. But for your sake, I promise to try and pretend I’m human.”

She shuddered at the word. “You never were just human, I can tell. Before you died, you were Pack. Like me.”

Regarding her curiously as she backed out of her driveway, he finally nodded. “How did you know? I’m told the dead no longer have the aura.”

Anabel couldn’t keep from snorting out loud. “Maybe not to each other. But you do to me. I can see it just as clearly as the aura from any living shifter.”

And then she turned up the radio to discourage further discussion.

The winding, tree-lined roads were beautiful in summer and in autumn. Right now, with the leaves beginning to turn, she felt as if she lived in a postcard. She knew other people who’d lived here all of their lives as she had became so used to the natural beauty that they rarely even noticed it. Not Anabel. She appreciated and marveled at her surroundings every day.

As she drove to downtown Leaning Tree, she tried to think how to best approach this. Turning the radio down slightly, she glanced at him. “Any ideas on what I should say? I mean, I can’t just walk into the police station and demand information on the search for the missing girls. That would make them really suspicious.”

“I see what you mean,” he replied, frowning. “You’d become an immediate suspect, especially since you believe everyone considers you off your rocker anyway.”

His words stung. “Hey,” she protested. “It’s fine for me to say stuff like that. Not so much for you.”

Again the deep-throated laugh. “Of course,” he said, shaking his head in mock chagrin. “I should have understood.”

Shocked, she realized he was teasing her. No one had joked with her in any way since David died. Probably because everyone at first felt bad for her and then later, after her breakdown, most folks acted afraid of her.

This used to hurt and baffle her, before she’d given in and decided to embrace her own semiscary weirdness. She’d started dressing in black after David was killed anyway. With a little embellishment using Stevie Nicks for inspiration, she’d taken black to a whole new level. And the funny thing was, she loved wearing one of her flowing outfits and seeing the way everyone eyed her. She thought she looked pretty. Who cared if everyone else disagreed?

Another sideways look at her ghostly companion, steeling herself against his masculine beauty, confirmed her suspicion.

“For someone who’s worried about his sister, you’re a bit of a jokester, aren’t you?”

Just like that, his half smile vanished, replaced by a steely expression. Instantly, she regretted her comment.

“Are you always so serious?” he asked, faint mockery in his voice.

She decided to answer honestly. “Yes. Especially when dealing with something like this. I don’t find serial killers or women being held prisoner amusing.”

“Neither do I,” he shot back. “But I have found making a joke or two can help relieve some of the pressure.”

Since she didn’t have a response for that, she kept quiet.

“I do have a question.” Clearing his throat, he eyed her. “Exactly how powerful are you?”

So intent had she been on focusing on thinking of him like a brother, the question didn’t immediately register. She blinked, frowning, as she met his gaze. “I’m sorry—what?”

“How much power do you have?”

“That’s what I thought you said. I don’t understand what you mean. If you’re talking about firepower, yes, I do own a gun. I’ve even taken classes to learn how to handle it. For my own protection, of course.”

Now he frowned. “I’m not talking about a weapon, though that may come in handy, and I think you know it. I’m asking about your powers. You know, your magic. How strong is it?”

“Magic?” Then she remembered she was talking to a ghost. “Tyler, the only magic I possess is the ability to see and hear spirits. Most times it’s more like a curse than magic.”

His gaze slid over her, the assessing look in his eyes saying he wasn’t sure if she was serious. And then he grimaced and shook his head. “I understand. Good one. You’ve proved your point. I shouldn’t have accused you of being too serious.”

“But—”

He waved away her protests. “You almost had me fooled for a moment. You must be a very powerful witch indeed, if you’re trying to hide it.”

More oddness. A powerful witch, huh? Maybe he thought she dressed like this because she had magic. Or something. Who knew? Every second she spent with him kept getting weirder and weirder. “I’m just a regular person who happens to see ghosts.” And had already had one mental breakdown. She fervently hoped this wasn’t another. “I thought you ghostly beings knew everything.”

One dark eyebrow arched, his face showing an uncanny awareness of how uneasy she was becoming.

“What makes you think that? If we knew everything, I’d know exactly where to find my sister.” He turned away, staring out at the road ahead of them. “And I wouldn’t need you.”

Good point. Somewhat relieved, she decided to keep on trying to help. “Let’s head to the police station. I’ll figure out something to say that won’t get me thrown in jail.” She hoped.

* * *

Tyler rode in the passenger seat of her car as if he were alive, just because he wanted to study this Anabel Lee a bit more closely. When he’d received Dena’s frantic pleas for help, he’d searched for the most powerful witch he could find. He’d been drawn to the energy radiated from Anabel, just like all the other ghosts, apparently. He’d immediately realized he’d made the right choice when she not only looked at him, but could hear him when he spoke.

One thing that had taken him by surprise was her beauty. Tall and graceful, slender and shapely, and her delicate features left him momentarily speechless. Her midnight hair tumbled carelessly down her back, adding to her attraction. But her copper eyes fringed in long, sooty lashes had done him in. He’d never seen anything like her. Exquisite, enchanting and sexy as hell. The instant he’d met her, he’d felt the impact of her femininity like a sucker punch to the gut.

Which pissed him off royally. After all, he’d come back as a ghost to save his sister, not fight an overwhelming attraction to a witch. Which, despite Anabel’s claims to the contrary, she most definitely was.

He didn’t understand why she insisted on lying about her magical ability. Maybe if he told her they were most likely dealing with not only a serial-killer psychopath, but a powerful warlock, she’d come clean. Because everyone knew to fight magic with magic, didn’t they?

Or maybe, maybe she just didn’t know.

The instant that idea occurred to him, he discounted it. How could she radiate power and not understand who and what she was?

For now, he decided to let that topic rest.

“So,” she asked, shooting him a sidelong glance that told him she felt nervous, “in the afterlife, do you still shift into a wolf?”

“Of course,” he answered, playing along. “We are what we are. Dying doesn’t change that.” He thought for a moment and then completed his statement. “At least, until we’re reborn into a new body.”

“Of course.” And she laughed, as if he’d made a joke. “Reincarnation too? Why not.”

Not sure what to think about this, he decided not to pursue this topic either. Things were confusing enough, what with warlocks and serial killers and ghosts. What choice did he have but to let it go? For all he knew, powerful witches thought differently from everyone else.

And, he reminded himself, Anabel Lee had to be a witch with very strong powers. She had to be, if they were to have a prayer in defeating the man who’d captured and enslaved his sister. If it turned out she wasn’t, then he’d chosen wrong and Dena would die.

Contenting himself with looking out the window, though Leaning Tree looked exactly as he remembered, he was struck anew by the rustic beauty. Right now the green leaves flirted with shades of yellow, red and orange. In a few weeks, they’d blaze with color, as soon as the first crispness started to creep into the air. Autumn had always been his favorite time of year.

A moment later, they pulled up at the police station. The one-story, redbrick building looked the same. Again, memories surfaced. He’d spent a fair amount of time here as a kid, when his father was arrested for whaling on his mother.

“Wait here,” she ordered, shooting him a stern look as she got out of her car.

“Right.” He did exactly as she said, for maybe ten seconds. And then he materialized inside the station, waiting for her by the battle-scarred counter of the front desk as she walked in.

The dirty look she gave him made him smile.

“Anabel Lee.” The frizzy-haired woman behind the counter sounded less than thrilled. “What do you want?”

To her credit, Anabel didn’t react to the overt hostility in the receptionist’s tone. “I’d like to see Captain Harper, please.”

The other woman, whose name tag read Brenda Winder, appeared unmoved, squinting at Anabel through thick glasses. “Of course you would. Why don’t you tell me what it is you need, and I’ll see if I can find someone to help you? Since I am, you know, the dispatcher. That’s what we do.” Her unkind smile had Tyler clenching his fists.

He glanced at Anabel, to see what she would do. To his surprise, she’d assumed a deferential posture. “I’d prefer to discuss it with him, thanks.”

Pursing her mouth, the other woman glared at her. “Have a seat. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Without commenting, Anabel found a metal folding chair and lowered herself into it.

Enraged, he went to her. “What was that? Why do you let that person talk to you that way?”

Her sigh sounded more weary than exasperated. She kept her voice down, since to anyone else it would appear she was carrying on a one-sided conversation with herself. “I tried to tell you. Most of the people around this town consider me crazy, an unwelcome nuisance at best. No one in Leaning Tree wants to have anything to do with me, never mind talk to me.”

“Because of your power?”

She moved her hand in a chopping motion. “Enough about the power. I don’t have any, so stop pretending I do.”

Before he could respond, Anabel looked up. Her entire body stiffened. “Now look what you made me do,” she hissed, her porcelain skin turning tomato red.

Brenda Winder stood back behind the desk, staring at Anabel with a horrified and smug expression on her meaty face. “Talking to yourself again?” she drawled. “Crazy is as crazy does.”

Stone-faced, Anabel kept staring straight ahead and didn’t bother to reply. Finally, Brenda tired of tormenting someone who wouldn’t respond and went back to reading something on her computer.

A few minutes later, a stocky man with wide shoulders and an even wider belly stomped into the room. His bushy gray eyebrows lowered in a frown, and he eyed Anabel as if he expected her to present him with something disgusting and distasteful. “You wanted to talk to me?” he asked, sounding anything but accommodating.

“I did.” Smiling, Anabel got to her feet gracefully. “Good to see you, Captain Harper. Could we please talk in your office?”

“Out here will do just fine.”

“No.” Anabel straightened her shoulders, her smile fading and her gaze direct. “It won’t. I need a little privacy, please.”

The captain sighed, stopping just short of rolling his eyes. “Sure. Why not? Come on back. I’m sure you know the way.”

Another puzzle. Resolving to try to find out from Anabel what all this meant, Tyler glided along after them as they walked through the crowded open area buzzing with activity. They passed several uniformed officers, a few criminals or complainants, and not a single person acknowledged or greeted Anabel. She made a beeline toward a small office in the back corner.

Most of the police officers were busy, which might excuse them. Some were on the phone, others talking to people sitting in their desk chairs. Suspects? Tyler looked for handcuffs, noting two people at opposite ends of the room who wore them.

Despite that, the instant they realized who had just walked into the room, every single person stopped what he or she was doing and stared.

Tyler would have liked to believe this was due respect for her power, but some of the officers seemed disgusted. A few others exchanged glances with their coworkers, even going so far as to shake their heads or roll their eyes.

Not respect, then. Eyeing Anabel’s slender form as she marched across the room, head held high, ignoring them all, for the first time he wondered what her story might be.

Truth be told, until now he hadn’t wondered about her story. He’d gone to her simply because he’d heard she could see and hear him and she’d radiated amazingly great power. They’d come to an arrangement. He’d help her get what she wanted if she’d help him save his baby sister.

End of story. Except it wasn’t.

Even though he’d been a shape-shifter, able to change into a ferocious wolf, wizards, warlocks and witches generally creeped him out. Any shifter with a lick of sense tended to avoid magical beings, since they were powerless against them. Even the vampires were careful to avoid them.

But now one had Dena. And if Tyler wanted to save her, he had no choice but to take on a warlock. At least he had a powerful witch at his side.

Once again he eyed Anabel, who’d finally reached the captain’s office and had taken a seat, crossing her gorgeous long legs and tilting her head as she waited for the captain to work himself down into his own chair and work his enormous stomach behind his desk.

Finally, he grunted and got himself settled. “All right, Anabel. Since Lilly and all the rest of the McGraws refused to press charges against you, I’m guessing you haven’t come here to talk about any of that.”

Anabel shook her head rapidly, sending her long, dark hair whipping around her face. Tyler caught himself aching to wrap a strand of it around his finger and pull her to him.

“Of course not,” she said. “That’s history. They’ve moved forward, as have I.”

“Then what can I do for you?”

She took a deep breath, her jaw tightening. “A friend of David’s wrote me from Afghanistan. He wanted me to check on his sister. She lives here in Leaning Tree. According to him, she’s gone missing.”

Brilliant. Tyler wanted to hug her. He restrained himself, not wanting to startle her. Besides, without a corporeal body, she wouldn’t be able to feel it.

“Really?” The captain’s gaze sharpened. “What’s her name?”

“Dena Rogers,” Anabel answered. “Her brother, Tyler, is really worried.”

“Let me see what I can find out.” Using his computer, Captain Harper tapped in some information. “Ah, yes. Here we are. Two weeks ago one of her coworkers asked us to do a welfare check when Ms. Rogers didn’t show up for her shift at the junior-college cafeteria. We checked but found nothing. Her house was empty, but there were no signs she’d met with foul play or anything. My officer determined she must have left willingly.”

“I don’t think so—” Anabel began.

“Ms. Lee.” Speaking sternly, Captain Harper interrupted. “It’s entirely possible she went on vacation.”

“Not without telling her brother,” Anabel shot back, her spine straight. “That’s why he got in touch with me.”

“I see.” Steepling his fingers, the older man sighed. “Then why don’t you tell me what it is you want me to do?”

“Find out what happened to her. Her brother told me she’d been talking about several other missing girls. Has anyone in your office put together information linking them?”

To give him credit, Captain Harper’s expression remained unchanged. Except for his eyes. Those appeared about to bug out of his head. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

“That’s sad.”

The captain narrowed his eyes but didn’t respond.

“I would appreciate it if you would look into it,” Anabel continued with a quiet dignity. “As soon as possible. It’s not enough that Tyler Rogers is over there serving our country. I don’t want him worrying needlessly about his sister.”

“I’m sure there’s no need to worry. She’ll turn up eventually. Young people frequently disappear on some crazy adventure.”

The man’s patronizing tone set Tyler’s teeth on edge. “If you won’t at least do your job—” Anabel stood, the movement graceful “—I’m going to have to investigate on my own.”

To Tyler’s disbelief, the police captain winced. “No need to do anything rash.”

“Twenty-four hours.” Anabel looked him right in the eye. “I want you to investigate the disappearance of several young women in the area around Leaning Tree over the past few months. I’d like to know what you’ve learned by this time tomorrow. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll consider that notice that you want me to take matters into my own hands.”

From the tight set of Captain Harper’s jaw, he wasn’t happy at all about her proclamation, but he nodded. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

“You do that.” With that, she turned to go.

Following her out the door, Tyler marveled at the powerful energy radiating from her. How was it possible she didn’t realize her own strength? It wasn’t. Therefore, he had to believe she simply didn’t want him to know.

She sailed through the outer room and past the startled receptionist without a word. Outside, she rushed over to her little car, opening the door and climbing inside.

Only once she was there did Tyler realize her hands were shaking too hard to fit the key in the ignition.

“Deep breaths,” he told her as he folded himself up into the small passenger seat. He wasn’t sure what he could do to help. “Do you want to talk about it?” In his admittedly limited experience, most women welcomed the opportunity to discuss their feelings.

But Anabel was not most women. “No,” she said, averting her profile. “I’m fine.” A moment later, she managed to start the car and put it in Drive.

“What was that, back there?”

Not looking at him, she lifted one delicate shoulder in a shrug. “I already told you, people in this town think I’m crazy.”

“But you didn’t tell me why.”

She shot him a sideways glance, her eyes shuttered. “Does it really matter?”

“I guess not. But I’d still like to know.”

“I talk to ghosts. Think about it.”

He couldn’t help laughing at the sour note in her voice. “They see you walking around talking to air. Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Exactly. And I dress the part. Plus, I did something I shouldn’t have and almost cost a really sweet woman her life. I don’t think anyone will ever forgive me for that.”

Thus the captain’s reference to the McGraws. He, like just about everyone in Leaning Tree, knew the family. Since they’d declined to press charges, whatever Anabel had done couldn’t have been too bad. Tyler wondered if he should ask, but the raw agony in her expression made him decide not to. Whatever she’d done, it seemed clear she felt bad about that now.

Neither spoke as she drove slowly down Main Street. He took his time admiring the huge leafy oak and maple trees, the restored old buildings and the bustling shops. “It still looks the same,” he mused. “I see the small Dutch Reform church is now fully restored. And the shops and restaurants appear to be doing a booming business.”

“We get a lot more tourists than we used to,” she grudgingly admitted. “It’s really busy in the fall when all the city people take drives to see the foliage.” Again she looked sideways at him, almost as if it hurt her eyes to meet his gaze dead-on.

“I remember,” he said.

“How long have you been gone from here, anyway?”

“That’s a good question.” He tried to calculate, failing miserably.

“A reply like that means you aren’t really going to answer.”

He laughed. “Give me a minute. I’m trying. Like I said, time passes differently in the hereafter.”

“What’s the last year you remember? Let’s start with your last tour of duty in Afghanistan.”

Flashes of light, an explosion, red and yellow and orange. Screams of pain. Wincing, he tried to block the random sights and sounds from his memory.

When he finally found his voice again, he sounded hoarse. “Not there. Too intense. Let’s start with something better, more pleasant.”

“Okay. When did you graduate from high school?”

Now, that he could answer. “Nineteen ninety-seven.” Thinking about that, he couldn’t help smiling. “Leaning Tree High. Did you go there?”

“I did, but I graduated in 2001. I was just starting high school the year you finished.”

“Which would explain why we never met,” he said.

“How do you know we didn’t?” Though her question was casual, for some reason it sent a chill up his spine.

He decided to keep his answer light. “Because I’d remember.” The rest of it, what he didn’t say, was that she, with her long midnight hair and exotic bronze eyes, was the loveliest woman he’d ever seen. He had to believe his younger self would have recognized that too, even back then.


Chapter 3 (#ulink_c2cd9339-a1e3-5c04-bafc-e95bd45eb8db)

Apparently oblivious of his chaotic thoughts, Anabel continued to question him. “And then after high school, what did you do? Did you enlist right away?”

His head had begun to hurt. “My turn. I get to ask you something next.”

“Really? I had no idea we were playing some sort of game.” Since her dry tone contained a thread of amusement, he decided to take that as encouragement.

“What did you do after high school?” he asked.

“I went to college. Columbia, to be exact. Three months in, I loved life and the city. Then I met David Lee. From Tennessee. He was in New York on leave.”

Though he hated the dark sadness that crept over her lovely face, he wanted to know more. Before he could speak, she forestalled him by making a chopping motion with her hand.

“My turn,” she said, earning a reluctant smile from him.

“Go ahead.”

“Remember, we’re trying to get a rough idea of how long you’ve been a ghost,” she said.

Though he didn’t know why that mattered, he decided to play along. “Okay.”

“When did you enlist?”

He sighed. “About two months after graduating from high school.”

“No college?”

“Nope. Not only did I not have the money or the grades, but I didn’t have the inclination. I was working a dead-end job, learning how to do bodywork at a Chevy dealership. I woke up one morning, decided I wanted to be a soldier and drove to the army recruiter’s office.”

“And then—”

“My turn.” He softened his tone to lessen the sting. “How long were you married?”

“Nope,” she said, turning away, but not before he saw the hurt flash across her face. “My marriage is off-limits. Ask something else.”

Thinking quickly, he spoke. “What about friends? Surely you must have some friends in this town.”

She gave him a look designed to stop a charging leopard in its tracks. “You’re going to keep pushing this, are you?”

“I’m just trying to figure out what makes you tick, that’s all.”

“Well, don’t. There’s not a reason in the world you would need to know.”

“Actually, there is.” He gave her what he hoped was an unguarded smile. “If we’re going to be working together, I should at least learn a few things about you.”

“I talk to ghosts,” she said, her voice curt. “Isn’t that enough?”

“Not really.” Equally blunt, he rubbed the back of his neck. One thing that always startled him was how he occasionally still had human aches and pains and itches, even in ethereal form.

“What?” Staring at him, she frowned. “Explain yourself.”

“You talk to ghosts. I get that. It’s great, and that particular talent is what enabled me to get you to see and hear me. But how is the ability to view spirits going to assist you in freeing my sister?”

She looked thoroughly annoyed. “Maybe I should remind you that you asked me to help you with this, not the other way around.”

“I did. But I was under the impression you had some form of magical ability, as well.”

Now. Now he expected she would finally admit the truth.

“Well, you were wrong.”

His heart sank. “It’s more likely you just don’t know your own powers.”

“Really?” Shaking her head, she snorted. “I know myself better than you think. And to answer your other question, I do have a few friends. They’re all sort of fringe people like me.”

“Fringe people?”

“Yeah.” Expression carefully blank, she smiled at him. “As a matter of fact, you need to meet one of them. My friend Juliet. She owns the yoga studio and metaphysical bookstore downtown and calls herself a medium.”

“And you don’t believe her?”

“I have no opinion either way. She’s my friend and whatever she wants to accept as true is fine with me.” A hint of mischief sparked in her amazing eyes as she widened her smile, which made him catch his breath. “That’s why I want you to meet her. I’m curious to see if she senses your presence.”

“Has she ever sensed one of your other ghostly visitors?”

“No, but I’ve never brought one into her studio. I usually get rid of them as soon as they appear.”

Curious, he nodded. “Do they appear often?”

Instantly, her smile vanished. “Too much,” she said grimly. “There are an awful lot of dead people trying to communicate with the living.”

“You know, you could make money if you had a TV show and traveled around the country like the Long Island Medium. Why don’t you?”

Clearly, his attempt at a joke fell flat. She looked at him as if he’d grown two ghostly heads. “That’s not for me. All I want is for the specters to leave me alone. Which, thanks to you, they are.”

When he was in the afterlife, Anabel’s energy had pulled him to her. He’d been seeking, and then the blaze of energy she gave off shone like a beacon, cutting through gray. The fact that she’d been able to see and hear him had been a welcome bonus.

“You draw them to you,” he said slowly.

“How? And why? Surely there must be a way to turn it off.”

He debated the best way to tell her. Finally, he decided to just say it. “Anabel, I believe you have magic inside you. Untapped, but powerful. We’re going to need to figure out how to bring it to the surface.”

“Bring it to...” They stopped at a red light and she turned to face him. “Why would I want to do something like that?”

If her crossed arms were any indication, she definitely wasn’t going to like what he had to say next. “Because whoever has my sister is a warlock. And you’re going to need your magic to defeat him.”

* * *

“A warlock?” Repeating Tyler’s words, Anabel sucked in her breath. As a shape-shifter, she knew there were all kinds of other supernatural beings out there, like vampires and mer-people, but as far as she knew, no one had any special powers, except for the fae. Even as a child in school, when they’d learned the history of the Pack along with all the other supernatural, witches and warlocks had never been mentioned. Not once.

While she—and others of her kind—could change form, as far as she knew, no one could fly. Or start fires with a look or a wave of their hand. Magic didn’t exist.

Yet Tyler talked as if it did. There were certainly insane living people; therefore, it followed that there could be crazy dead people, as well. “Look, Tyler. I agreed to help try and find your sister. You didn’t say anything about having to defeat some sort of magical being.”

“I believed—believe you have magic too.”

She waited, in case there was more, but he didn’t elaborate.

“Well, if you need somebody who can fight magic with magic, you’ve picked the wrong person,” she said. “I’ll assist in every way I can, but you’ll need to find another witch or warlock to help get her out once we find her.”

“Deal,” he said promptly, which sort of annoyed her. “Do you know any witches?”

Fine. He wanted a witch, she’d get him one. “My friend the yoga instructor is not only a medium but a witch.” Okay, technically Juliet was Wiccan, but Tyler was a ghost and Juliet wouldn’t be able to see him.

Tyler’s ghostly form briefly solidified, which she was beginning to realize meant excitement. “Do you think she’ll help us?”

Immediately, she regretted saying anything. “Tyler, she’s Wiccan. She runs a yoga studio and metaphysical bookstore, like I said. If she practices any magic, which I doubt, it’s not powerful.”

“How do you know?” His husky voice vibrated with enthusiasm. “She might hide it from you. Most magical beings don’t go around advertising their power, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.” Apparently, he was serious. She sighed. Maybe new insights into the world were learned in the afterlife.

“When can we meet her?” Tyler asked, his hazel eyes glowing.

Fine. She gave in. “How about now? We’re already in town.”

Again his form appeared solid. “Sounds great.”

Mentally shaking her head, she took the next left onto Third Street. Juliet’s bright green VW bug was parked in front of the small white-frame corner building, with a bookstore on one side and a yoga studio on the other.

“You’re in luck. She’s here.”

Pulling up next to her friend’s car, Anabel parked and got out. As she headed toward the yoga-studio door, she glanced at Tyler’s strikingly handsome form, floating a few feet off the ground. “Remember, Juliet won’t be able to see you.”

“You never know,” he said agreeably. “She might have a few secrets from you, the same way you keep things from her.”

Resisting the urge to grumble under her breath, she inhaled deeply and opened the door. The set of tiny bells chirped and chimed their usual muted happy sound. The air smelled like spearmint and rosemary. This never failed to make Anabel smile.

At the sound, Juliet glided from the back room, her unlined face serene. “Anabel!” Moving forward, she hugged Anabel and kissed her cheek. “Class was over an hour ago.”

“I know. We came because...” Crap. Not only had she said we, as in plural, but she really didn’t have a good reason for being there.

“We?” Juliet’s perfectly arched eyebrows rose. She peered behind Anabel. “Is someone else with you?”

“No. Sorry.” Ignoring Tyler, who now hovered over Anabel with a look of intense concentration on his face, she swallowed.

“What’s wrong?” Juliet placed a soothing hand on Anabel’s shoulder. “Something is troubling you. I can sense it.”

“Aha!” Tyler crowed. “See? She has powers. I knew it.”

Anabel could have sworn Juliet glanced at Tyler, though she didn’t acknowledge his presence. Of course she didn’t. She wasn’t crazy, like Anabel.

Doing her best to ignore Tyler’s outburst, Anabel nodded. “Do you have a moment to talk?”

“Of course.” Turning, Juliet pushed through the row of beads making a curtain in the doorway and led the way back to her office.

Once inside, Anabel took the second chair, since Tyler had materialized in the first one.

“Now tell me what’s bothering you.” Juliet’s dulcet tones were, as far as Anabel was concerned, one of her best assets.

“Um, okay.” Might as well just blurt it out. “I hope I’m not being offensive, but as a Wiccan, do you happen to practice...magic?”

To Anabel’s relief, Juliet smiled. “We do practice some small, white magic.” She leaned closer. “Anabel, have you come because of your power?”

Stunned, Anabel gaped at her friend and tried to ignore Tyler’s smug smile. “Power?”

“Yes. You have an aura of power surrounding you. More than just your shifter aura. I thought perhaps something had happened to make you realize this, so you’d come to me for help.”

“Power.” Aware she was repeating the word yet again, Anabel shook her head. “You do realize my life is already strange enough, don’t you?”

Smile widening, Juliet leaned over and patted her arm. “No rush. When the time is right and you have questions, please come to me. I’m not an expert by any means, but I can enlist the help of my coven to teach you. It’s far better to use such power for light rather than dark.”

Despite herself, Anabel shivered. “Dark magic.” Her throat felt dry. “You’re telling me that such a thing is real?”

“Unfortunately, very real.” And then, while Anabel was trying to digest all this, she swore her friend cut her eyes and looked right at Tyler. As if she too could see him.

“I think she can see me,” Tyler said, confirming her thought.

“I can,” Juliet admitted, making Anabel gasp. “And hear you too. However, I only see a blaze of energy, not a physical body. Is that what you see, Anabel?”

“No.” Still in shock, Anabel looked from Juliet to Tyler and back again. “I see him like he must have looked when he was alive.”

Tyler flashed a cocky grin. “Of course you do,” he said. “You have way more power than she does.”

“I need to go home.” Anabel stood, suppressing a flash of panic. “I need to go home right now.”

Knowing her friend would understand, Anabel rushed outside and got into her car. She managed to get the key in the ignition, start the engine and put the car in Drive before she realized Tyler wasn’t there.

Fine. He was a ghost. He’d show up eventually. Right now she needed to be alone.

* * *

Tyler remained seated, though with every fiber of his being he wanted to rush after Anabel. Instead he studied Anabel’s friend, taking comfort in the aura of peace and tranquility radiating from her.

“Why are you here?” Juliet asked, apparently having no issues with conversing with a ghost. “Many others have tried to contact her and she’s sent every single entity away. What’s different about you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I really need Anabel’s help,” he answered. “I was drawn to her, by her power.”

“A lot of spirits are. I get the odd few myself, every now and then, but not nearly as many as she.” She leaned forward, her faded blue eyes twinkling. “She thinks I don’t know.”

“Why?” he asked. “What is it about her? Is she a witch? How is it possible she isn’t aware of her power?”

“Anabel is descended from a long line of powerful witches. Unfortunately, her mother died when she was young. There was no one else to teach her. My coven and I have been waiting for the right time.” Cocking her head, she studied him. “It would appear your arrival has signaled that the time has come.”

“Why wouldn’t you have taught her before now? It seems to me she could have used an advantage.”

The other woman shook her head. “Anabel has been very unsettled since losing her husband. There were instances when she might have chosen to use her power for bad rather than good.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I’ve been tasked with helping guide her. My coven has long been aware of her and her family, and we watch to make certain she continues to walk within the light.” Juliet looked pensive. “Of course, she’s given me a few scares a couple of times. Like when she almost caused that poor girl, Lilly McGraw, to get recaptured by that cult. You might know the McGraws, if you’re from around here. They own and operate Wolf Hollow Motor Court Resort.”

“I know the McGraws, but I don’t know Lilly.”

Juliet nodded. “Lilly was here with Kane McGraw. She’d been held captive by some crazy cult, and they were hunting her down even after she was freed,” she continued. “For whatever reason, Anabel helped this cult. Maybe out of jealousy, as she apparently once had a thing for Kane.”

“Helped them?” Tyler wasn’t sure he understood. “Anabel helped cult members locate Lilly?”

“Yes. She led Lilly into a trap. Both Lilly and Anabel almost lost their lives with that one.”

“Why? Why would she do such a thing?”

“She was confused.” Juliet sighed. “And hurting. After David died, Anabel became convinced that Kane McGraw was her mate. She wrote him letters. He never responded. When Anabel learned Kane and Lilly were true mates, she went a little...crazy.”

Now everything fell into place. “That explains the way everyone at the—” about to say police station, he caught himself “—in town treated her. Like she was dirt.”

Expression sad, Juliet nodded. “Folks have long memories around here.”

He shook his head. “I’m sure she had her reasons. Anabel’s energy shows she’s a good person. Did she say why?”

“Maybe if you ask her, she’ll tell you,” Juliet said gently. “It’s her story to share or not. Meanwhile, I’d like to know what you need someone with power for.”

Eyeing her, he made a split-second decision and decided to trust her. “A powerful warlock has taken my sister—and maybe a couple of others—captive. I need power to locate them.”

“And fight him,” she finished. “I see. I’m not sure Anabel is your best bet. She’s powerful but completely untrained.”

“What about you?” he asked.

But the older woman had already begun shaking her head. “I am not nearly powerful enough. In fact, Anabel is the most powerful witch I’ve ever known. It’s in her blood.”

“Then I have no choice,” he said. “Maybe you can train her, if you can do it quickly. There’s not a lot of time. My sister’s life is in danger.”

She blinked up at him. “You’re a ghost. You should be able to find your sister.”

“Yes, that would be true. If a powerful warlock wasn’t shielding himself and her.”

“Oh.” Juliet still sounded stunned. Shell-shocked, even. “Do you know who this warlock is?”

“No.” Tyler glided toward the doorway. “Thank you for visiting with me,” he said.

“You’re welcome.” Her wide smile attested to the truth of her words. “If there’s anything I can do to help you and Anabel, let me know.”

“I will.” And he winked out, reappearing in Anabel’s living room. She hadn’t arrived home yet, which was probably a good thing. She’d seemed pretty freaked out, and the last thing he needed was for her to make a panic-fueled decision to try to send him away again.

Her cat hissed and puffed up his fur immediately upon seeing Tyler. The long-haired black beast had been enjoying a sunny spot on the carpet near the front window. As cats went, this one was large and appeared powerful.

“It’s okay, cat,” Tyler said, lowering his voice and trying to sound friendly. “I’m not here to do any harm.”

Apparently, the feline believed him, as he settled back down, turning his head and pretending to ignore Tyler while grooming his fur and stretching, all at the same time.

Tyler guessed this was a good thing. He’d never had much to do with cats, like most shifters. The two species—wolf and feline—were natural enemies. Tyler supposed it was a measure of Anabel’s uniqueness—or maybe her power—that she had a cat as a pet.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway heralded Anabel’s arrival. She slammed into the house, looking around wildly until she saw him.

“You are trouble. Nothing but trouble,” she cried. “My life was already messed up before you arrived, but you’re making it even worse.”

He grimaced. “I’m sorry. I have no choice.”

“How?” she demanded. “How do you even know your sister’s in danger? You’re dead. How the heck would she be able to contact you?”

“Her energy reached out to me. She asked me to save her from him. She’s pretty desperate. Who wouldn’t be, in her situation?”

“I want no part of it. I’m done.” Straightening, she waved her hand, giving him a flat, cold stare. “I want you to leave.”

Though he knew she couldn’t see it, her power flared, radiating from the edges of her fingertips as she pointed at him.

This time, he had no choice but to do as she commanded. As the compulsion filled him, he felt himself being pulled away, as if a giant vortex had opened to suck him right back out of this world.

“Wait,” he shouted, desperation fueling his words. “You can’t let my sister die. This is your chance to atone for what you did to that Lilly girl.”

Instantly, the energy sending him away faltered and then dissipated. Relieved, he wiped his hands down the front of his pants.

Anabel sighed, looking down before meeting his gaze. “Juliet told you about that?”

Glad now that he’d stayed and talked to the other woman, Tyler nodded. “She did.” Impulsively, he moved forward and put his hand on her shoulder. Of course, she couldn’t feel his ghostly touch—heck, he could see through his own fingers—but the gesture made him feel better. “My sister is only twenty-five years old. She doesn’t deserve to suffer like this.”

After a moment, she nodded. “I’ll try my best. I can promise you that. As to this mysterious power I supposedly have, I don’t know what to tell you about that.”

He took a deep breath, deciding to bulldoze ahead since he really had no choice. “Juliet said she could train you.”

Her beautiful bronze eyes narrowed. “Oh, she did, did she?”

Might as well tell her the rest of it. “She told me you’re descended from a long line of powerful witches. Your mother died before she could train you.”

“Or even tell me.” Moving away from him, she sighed. “My mom was killed in a fire when I was three. My dad got me out and went back for her. He died too.”

“I’m sorry.” He considered and then decided, why not? “If you’d like, when this is over, I can try to find their spirits too.”

“We’ll see.” Spinning around, sending her gauzy black skirt flaring out around her like a flamenco dancer’s, she headed into the kitchen. “I’m starving. It’s long past the time I normally eat lunch. I hope you don’t mind if I eat.”

“Why would I mind?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“I guess I assumed eating was something you missed,” she said, flashing a tentative smile. The power of that smile almost brought him to his knees.

Stunned, chest tight, he wondered if all the men in Leaning Tree were blind. Anabel was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. And eighteen months of being a widow was long enough for every red-blooded man to make a move. How was it that they weren’t beating a path to her door? That was something he’d never understand.

If he’d been alive... As soon as he had the thought, he pushed it away. He wasn’t alive, hadn’t been for a long time. No point in tormenting himself with what-might-have-beens.

Oblivious, she’d turned away and had already started sautéing something in a cast-iron skillet. Curious, he moved closer, frowning slightly when he realized the thing was full of vegetables.

“Where’s the meat?” he asked. “That’s the one thing I do miss. As a carnivore, I liked a nice rare steak.”

“Eww.” She actually shuddered. “I’m a vegetarian.” Then she watched him, apparently waiting for him to react to her joke.

Laughing, he obliged her. “Good one.”

She shook her head, turning back to the skillet. “I’m serious. When I need protein, I turn to other sources like beans, nuts, soy and grains.”

Horrified, he eyed her. “It’s a wonder you’re not sick. Shifters need meat. End of story.”

“Really? You’re entitled to your opinion, but I haven’t had meat in over a year. And I’ve never felt better.”

Her black cat leaped up onto the counter, eyeing the sizzling food. Anabel shooed him off. “Get down, Leroy.”

Immediately, the feline obeyed, twining around her ankles and mewing.

“He’s hungry,” she said. “Just a minute, baby.”

Eyeing the cat, Tyler shook his head. “Please tell me he’s not a vegetarian too.”

“Of course not. He eats high-quality dry cat food. Tuna flavored, I think.”

Finished cooking, she turned off the burner and transferred her meal to a plate. Then she went to the cabinet and poured her pet a bowl full of kibble, placing it on the floor for him to eat.

She carried her plate to the table, sat and dug in. Even watching her eat was an act of sensuality. “Now, if we’re done discussing my diet, let’s get back to our plan of action. I was thinking about talking to some of your sister’s friends.”

“Since the police won’t?”

“Have they? Do you even know?”

“Since they’ve been treating her disappearance like she left voluntarily, I’m guessing no.”

She finished chewing before responding. He watched as she blotted one corner of her full mouth with a napkin, aching to put his tongue there instead. “I’ll find out. I’ll need a bit more information, like where she worked and lived. How about we start this afternoon?”

Gratified, he nodded. “I like that you don’t waste time.”

“Might as well do it on my day off. I have to go back to work tomorrow. On workdays, my time is limited.”

“Work?” He said the word as if it were foreign. “What do you do, exactly?”

“I used to be an executive secretary to the president of Leaning Tree Bank. I was well regarded and made good money. Best of all, I was respected, the competent wife of a military man. But that had been in another life, before David died and my entire world had been turned apart.”

Heart aching for her, he instinctively realized the last thing she’d want would be his pity. “What do you do now?”

“I cook,” she answered, lifting her chin. “In the diner. I’m on the morning shift. I have to be there at six a.m. I work until two.” She didn’t mention that the pay was minimal. If not for the life-insurance policy that David had taken out when they were first married, she’d have had to take a second job.

“Leaving your afternoons free.”

She shook her head. “I do have errands to run too, you know. But I’ll work on your sister’s case each day.”

“Each day?” Horrified, he stared. “Don’t you understand? She doesn’t have that much time. We need to find her now.”


Chapter 4 (#ulink_a629b3a7-4b73-54d7-8f9f-6d645681e9c4)

Now. If only she really did possess some magical power that would enable her to help him. Anabel hated the idea of a young girl, trapped in some dark place, subject to the whims of a cruel and probably psychotic man.

“Tell me how,” she entreated. “I’ll do whatever I can. But I don’t know what else to do.”

“Find the warlock.”

“Okay.” She waited for him to say more, but apparently he thought that was enough. “And how do I do that?” she finally asked. “And don’t say ‘use your power,’ because I have no idea how.”

And furthermore, she wasn’t entirely sure she even had power to begin with. And if by some miracle she succeeded in finding the warlock, then what? Call the police? She doubted they’d even help. They’d already made it clear they regarded her as a dangerous eccentric.

He thought for a moment. “Maybe Juliet can give you a crash course in magic. She did offer.”

“Maybe. Though I have a feeling something like what you’re talking about isn’t simple.”

“Probably not.” He straightened, meeting and holding her gaze. “But we’re talking about my sister’s life. I’d hope you’d do whatever it takes to save her. We’re about out of time.”

Telling him she’d think about it, she finished eating her meal, concentrating on the food while trying to puzzle out some sort of solution. She wanted to help him find his sister; she really did. She just had no idea how.

When she looked up, her ghostly visitor had vanished.

Blinking, she looked around. Tyler was gone.

He didn’t reappear that afternoon, though when her phone rang shortly before five and it was her boss, Jeb, calling to tell her she wasn’t needed tomorrow and, in fact, could have a few more days off, she knew somehow Tyler had been working behind the scenes to clear the time she needed to help him.

Though she wouldn’t like the lost wages, she thanked Jeb and agreed, promising to be back by the end of the week. She hoped she wasn’t losing her job. While Jeb had never seemed to mind what the townspeople thought of Anabel, especially since she’d worked out of sight in the kitchen, she wouldn’t put it past some uptight haters to try to cause her to lose her employment. There were a few small-minded people mean enough to do something like that.

She kept waiting for Tyler to reappear, though she knew she should have been relieved at his absence. He fascinated her, though, and she was honest enough with herself to know part of that was because he was so ruggedly masculine. If he hadn’t been a spirit, she imagined her skin would sizzle if he were to touch her. Even the thought sent a bolt of heat through her.

Pushing the thought away, she occupied herself with weeding her garden and trying to gather up the nerve to call Juliet and ask her to help. But she couldn’t even imagine the conversation. How did you ask someone, even your best friend, to teach you how to use your magic like a witch?

At dinnertime, she took to the internet and tried to find information about magic. But the general weirdness put her off, and she stopped before she felt too alienated from herself. If the townspeople thought she was strange now, imagine if they learned she supposedly was a witch with magical abilities.

For a few minutes, she sat in her living-room chair, eyes closed, trying to concentrate. “Magic,” she whispered, feeling slightly foolish but going ahead anyway. “If you’re there, help me out. Show me where to find Tyler’s sister.”

But nothing happened. To be honest, she wasn’t sure how she would have reacted if something had.

Absurdly lonely—odd because she’d gotten used to being by herself—and sort of missing Tyler, she puttered around the house until her normal bedtime.

Since she didn’t have to be up at four thirty, she didn’t have to turn in early. But old habits died hard and Anabel had always taken comfort in a routine. So she got herself ready to turn in.

Tyler didn’t return, not even when she turned out the lights and climbed into bed. Counting her blessings, she closed her eyes with a smile on her face, waiting to fall asleep.

That night, he invaded her dreams. The instant Anabel realized it was his arms holding her close rather than David’s, she struggled, trying to wake herself up. But sleep gripped her tightly, refusing to release her. So she settled for pushing Tyler away.

But her body, so long untouched and alone, craved his, and every touch brought a thrill of electric longing pulsing through her. And truthfully, when she pretended to twist away, and he came in for the kiss, molten fire seared her lips as his mouth claimed hers.

Deep within her, desire flared, tugging at her, turning her inside and out. But she’d pledged herself to one mate and had sworn not to ever betray him. Not even in death.

“No.” Meaning it, she broke the embrace and pushed Tyler away. The hurt look on his handsome face gave her pause. But then, it was her dream and she had the right to control it.

Except...a little voice whispered in her mind. It was only a dream. And more than eighteen months had passed since she’d allowed her body to experience the thrum of physical need, the heady thrill of desire. Only a dream. Not really betrayal.

So she let herself flow forward, back into his strong arms. In her dream, Tyler was no longer ghostly. No, he was a man and had substance. She ran her fingers over corded muscle, her breathing hitching, while her lips ached to kiss him again.

And so they did. Kissing and touching, nothing more. No sin, this. Her clothes stayed on, even if it seemed the heat blazing through her veins might melt them off. And so it went, endless in the way of dreams. Until she woke and the dream vanished like a puff of smoke.

The guilt struck her the instant she opened her eyes. Unreasonable, unfathomable, but there nonetheless. The tangled sheets looked as though someone had actually been there, and her body ached with a heaviness that had nothing to do with reality.

She told herself it had been only a dream, that she hadn’t really been unfaithful to David, as if you could be with a ghost anyway.

Still, first thing after getting up, she reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out the photo of her deceased husband she’d always kept there. Once, she’d kept it right beside her bed so it would be the first thing she saw in the morning and the last at night. A year after his death, she’d finally put it away, finding the pain still too unbearable. Now she needed to gaze at David’s beloved face, as if doing so could erase her memory of her sinfully sensual dream.

“Is that a picture of your husband?” Tyler’s deep voice made her jump. And blush, instantly hot all over, as if he might somehow know about her nighttime subconsciously lustful thoughts.

“Yes.” Short answer, while she stared at the photograph and waited for the familiar grief and agony to consume her. When it didn’t immediately slam into her, she nearly panicked.

“I miss him so much,” she whispered. And then, with the words, came the familiar throat ache. “We loved each other, you know. He was a great husband.”

“Let me see.”

Heaven help her, she started again. While she’d been intent on her former husband’s face, Tyler had glided so close he was looking over her shoulder.

Wordlessly, she held up the frame. “This was right before he left for his last tour.”

Tyler swore, shocking her. “I know that guy. Or knew him, I should say.”

“What?” Not sure she’d heard correctly, Anabel spun around to face him. She felt numb, except for the slow, insistent beat of her heart in her chest. “You knew David? Are you sure?”

“Let me see the picture again.”

Slowly, she turned the frame around. “Where were you stationed?” Her voice seemed to come from a distance.

“That’s classified.” Grimacing, he shook his head at what had apparently been an automatic response. “Sorry. It doesn’t matter now, of course. I was stationed at Tangi Valley, Maidan Wardak Province. As was your husband.”

“Eighty klicks from Kabul. He told me that, even if he couldn’t tell me the exact name of the place.” Hearing the defeat in her tone, she sighed. “David said the troops called it Death Valley.”

“It wasn’t a pleasant area. Lots of Taliban.” He winced, as if the memory was unpleasant. “It’s where I died.”

“David too.”

“Roadside bomb?” He sighed, not waiting for an answer. “We dealt with that a lot. Our presence has always been a bone of contention among the locals.”

She nodded, unable to think past one thing. He’d known David. Finally. Someone who could speak of her husband as a living, breathing person rather than a mere statistic. Desperate to hear more, she sat down on the edge of her bed, still clutching the frame. “How well did you know my husband?”

“Dave?” He scratched his head. “Not all that well. We were on different shifts, so I didn’t see him all that often. But we played cards a couple of times.”

“He didn’t like being called that,” she said. “Dave. He always made everyone use his full name, David.”

“Really?” He shrugged. “Out there in hell, formality and civility die with every explosion. We called him Dave. Everyone did. Heck, my name is Tyler and everyone referred to me as Ty.”

That made sense. “I wish you’d known him better. In the last month or so before he died, I hardly heard from him. What few letters he was able to get out didn’t even arrive until after he’d been killed.” She swallowed to get past the lump in her throat. “I’d love it if you could share some stories about him.”

“I’m sorry. I wish I could too.”

Almost afraid to ask, she did anyway. For months she’d been plagued by nightmares, picturing various scenarios in which her mate had been killed. “Were you there when he...died?” Her voice came out a whisper. “All I know was that it was a bomb. They—the military—told me there was nothing left of his body to send back. So I didn’t even have that.”

For once, Tyler went silent. She watched him, praying with every fiber of her being that he would be able to tell her something. Anything. When she’d pressed for more information, all the military did was give her their apparently standard line: “killed in the line of duty.”

“No,” Tyler finally answered, crushing her hopes. “I was not there when he died. At least, not that I know of. When I try to reflect on my last memory of that place, I’m pretty sure he was still alive. So I must have died before him. How long did you say he’s been gone?”

“A little over eighteen months.” Which meant Tyler had been dead longer than that.

“I see.” He nodded. “Again, I’m sorry I can’t tell you more. From what I knew of him, he seemed like a nice guy.”

“Thank you for that.” She put the photograph back inside the drawer. Though it wasn’t much, actually hearing something, anything, about David, helped ease the edge of the constant ache she always carried inside her. Lately, though, she’d noticed it had lessened. There were actually larger and larger patches of time when she didn’t think about David at all. Guilt stabbed her as she realized this. She’d promised herself never to forget him.

Looking up, she met Tyler’s gaze. Something in his tortured expression made her stomach lurch. For a ghost, his features were really well-defined. “What is it? You’re not telling me everything, are you?”

With a shrug, he nodded. “Nothing bad, so don’t worry. Just something else I remembered. I think I know how I died.”

She waited, bracing herself.

“There had been a few of the guys, including me and your David, who’d skirted the edge of danger working to help some of the locals, most particularly the children,” he continued. “Our superiors had reprimanded us once, turning a blind eye after that.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Of course. But dangerous.”

“Yet you and David still did it,” she marveled.

“It was impossible not to. The locals were starving. We smuggled rations to the women, brought the children trinkets and treats sent from home and did our best to ease the damage.”

She waited, aware there were often two sides to every story.

“The Taliban sympathizers hated this. That’s how I was killed.”

Though she detected a tinge of shame in his voice, she saw none in his expression.

“They watched and the next time we snuck out to deliver goodies, they’d set up a trap.”

Bracing herself, she nodded. When he didn’t speak again, she sighed. “Let me guess. The suicide bomb you’d mentioned before?”

“Yes. Took out at least two of us, and some women and children too.” Rugged features expressionless, he stared off into the distance, as if remembering the sound of the gunfire and explosions, the screaming and shouting. All the pain.

His next words confirmed this. “Anabel, they didn’t even care that they’d killed themselves or their own people.”

Aching, she wished she knew a way to comfort him. “I’m sorry,” she said, aware her words couldn’t possibly be adequate. Then, because he was a ghost and she really wanted to know, she went ahead and asked. “What was it like to die?”

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t at first respond. When he raised his head to look at her, all emotion had been erased from his handsome face. “A sharp flash of pain. And then...nothing.”

“Nothing?” She frowned. “I was hoping for something more inspiring. Like you could say you found yourself in a tunnel, moving toward a bright light, all that. You know?”

“I do know.”

Was he laughing at her? She squinted at him, not sure. “And?” she finally prodded. “Are you going to tell me what it’s like?”

“It was liberating,” he said. “Once I’d shed that ruined body, joy filled me. I went to another place. Another plane. I knew I’d come home.”

Nothing but contentment and happiness filled his voice now. “But because of the violent manner of my death, my spirit went into shock. It was all too traumatic, and they took me to a healing place.”

“A healing place?”

He waved his ghostly hand, about to say more, and then didn’t. “That’s all I can tell you.”

“But...why are you here? Why didn’t you move on?”

“Because somehow I heard my sister’s cries. Her prayers for help. So instead of moving forward as I should have, I was allowed to remain tethered to earth.”

“I’m not sure I understand. You’re a ghost.”

“Yes.” He smiled, and the beauty of him struck her deep inside her heart. “I was permitted to come back as an ethereal being in the hopes of saving my sister. She’s being tortured, and while death would be a release from the pain, it’s not her time to die. Still, I fear he will kill her. And if he doesn’t, her suffering is terrible. We’ve got to get her out of there.”

“We’ll figure out a way,” she promised, reacting to the sheer desperation in his voice.

Apparently overcome, he turned away. For a moment, his ghostly form flickered and vanished, before solidifying once more.

“Thank you.” When he met her gaze, his hazel eyes glowed with determination. “Meanwhile, have I answered all your questions?”

She thought of her dead husband, the man she’d mourned for so long. “Since you said David was still alive when you died, I take it he wasn’t with you that night?”

“I don’t actually know. If he was there, I don’t remember him. But I’m guessing he was killed doing something similar.”

Miraculously, this helped ease her heart more than anything she’d heard or read about the troops in Afghanistan. “He died helping women and children,” she whispered, marveling again that war hadn’t changed her husband’s generous heart.

“Most likely.” Tyler shrugged. “Though I wasn’t there, so I can’t know for sure.”

“I do. I know inside me.” Turning, she headed toward her bathroom. “I’ll be out in a little while. You can wait in the kitchen, if you’d like.”

His wry grimace made her smile. “Sure. I’ll go in there and inhale the aroma of the coffee brewing. I used to enjoy my first cup in the morning.” With that, he drifted away, his broad shoulders and narrow waist drawing her eye until she could no longer see him.

Shutting the door, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. He’d died a noble death too. Had he no one to mourn him? She realized she’d never asked about his family. Surely he must have had parents, maybe even other siblings, someone to mark his passing. She’d ask him later.

She knew only of the one sister, Dena, who’d surely mourned her brother. So much so that she’d cried out to his spirit in her pain and terror. Their tie had been so great that he’d come back from wherever he’d been to try to save her from a fate worse than death.

Again, a noble man. One with a generous spirit, like David.

She glanced at herself in the mirror and paused. A woman of purpose stared back at her, brown eyes blazing, expression resolute and determined. And resilient. Somehow, after all she’d been through, she realized she’d emerged stronger for it.

Fine. Decision made, she turned the shower on and, as soon as the water got hot, stepped inside. If she had magic power inside her, she’d learn how to use it to locate Tyler’s sister. As for doing battle with the warlock person, well, she’d have to deal with that when it happened.

* * *

As Tyler drifted into the colorful kitchen, he took in the green cabinets, orange walls and colorful paintings. More of Anabel’s personality. How strange that it happened that the woman he’d sought help from had been married to one of the guys in his former unit. He was pretty sure it wasn’t a fluke. One thing life after death had taught him was that there were very few real coincidences. Things happened for a purpose, and while he might temporarily be blinded to what that might be, he knew to keep an eye out.

While he and Dena were growing up with a drug-addicted father, his mother had shielded them as best she could. Older by ten years, Tyler had tried to be the man in the family, but as a kid, he hadn’t fully realized that his father might kill him rather than hurt him. His mother had, always stepping in front of the blows, taking the brunt of his father’s drug-fueled wrath.

Desperately wanting to defend his mother, despite her strict orders not to intervene, Tyler had helped in every way he could besides beating the man to a bloody pulp, which he fully planned to do once he was older and stronger. In the meantime, he’d taken care of his mother when her bruises and broken bones incapacitated her. He’d cooked and done laundry and watched after his baby sister. He’d learned to change her diapers and mix her formula, sleeping on the floor by her crib in case his doped-up father got any stupid ideas. When his mother had found out about this, she’d put a stop to it, promising Tyler she’d make sure nothing happened to the baby.

And she had. She’d always made sure to be in the way of her husband’s fists and vitriolic bile. Despite her petite stature, she’d displayed enormous courage, though Tyler had never understood why she wouldn’t leave. All she’d say when he asked was that he was too young to understand. Eventually, he’d figured out that his father had sworn to hunt her down and kill her and his children should she ever try to run.

Finally, their father had disappeared. Tyler had heard the man now lived on the streets, a slave to his own demons. Periodically, he’d show up at the house, but only to take money, which he used to buy more drugs.

Tyler had never understood why his mother gave the man anything at all.

As soon as he’d graduated from high school, Tyler had enlisted in the army. For him, the military was not only an escape, but a chance to make something of himself, to make sure he didn’t end up like his father.

Their father had overdosed when Dena was seventeen. Tyler had been stationed at Fort Bliss in El Paso, Texas. He’d been granted leave and had hurried home to help out.

He hadn’t been sure what to expect. A celebration, perhaps? Instead he found his mother insensible with grief and his baby sister angry at the woman who’d raised them.

“What’s wrong with her?” Dena had asked. “He spent his life making her miserable, and all she can do is cry.”

“I don’t understand either,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulders. “But I do know Mom needs us. Let her grieve, and be there for her, the way she always was for us.”

“She should have left him” had been Dena’s response. Since Tyler tended to agree, he didn’t reply.

After the funeral, he’d gone back to base and kept in touch with his sister. He’d celebrated with her long-distance when she got a job at the junior college. Sure, it was in the cafeteria, but she’d had plans, she told him. She wanted to take some classes, with an eye on earning her degree. He’d been proud.

What Dena hadn’t told him was that their mother had started using the very same drugs that had killed their father. Heroin, mostly. Sometimes meth. Their mom had died right after Tyler was sent to Afghanistan, though he hadn’t learned about it for two weeks. He’d raged and grieved and worried that his sister might follow this horrible family pattern. Dena had assured him that she wouldn’t. He’d believed her. Neither of them had wanted anything to do with that lifestyle.

After that, he and his sister had been on their own. And then Tyler had gone and gotten himself killed. And Dena had gotten into a bigger mess than he ever would have thought possible. If he didn’t get her out, she was going to die too young, just as he had. Even though it wasn’t her time to go.

Anabel had to help him save her. She had to. He would accept nothing else, even if it cost him his own movement into eternity.

Being a ghost felt more like being alive than he’d expected. Sure, he couldn’t eat or drink, didn’t have to eliminate bodily waste or sleep, but he felt all the same human emotions he’d experienced when he was alive.

Including desire. That one had surprised the hell out of him. Every time he got close to Anabel, his entire body tightened in places that shouldn’t have been possible for a ghost. At first, he’d tried to keep telling himself that it was due to her beauty and the power that radiated from her.

But after the first night, when he’d found himself watching her sleep, aching with the kind of physical need he couldn’t possibly satisfy without a flesh-and-blood body, he’d known it was more. Much, much more.

He wanted her. Desired her. In all the ways a man wanted a woman. Except he wasn’t a man. He was a ghost.

This had to be his own personal form of hell. Because there was absolutely nothing he could do to ease the craving.

When Anabel finally emerged from her morning preparations, showered and dressed in a pair of faded black jeans that hugged her curves, with her dark hair in a jaunty ponytail, he couldn’t make himself stop staring. She was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen, bar none. Again, that lust stabbed through what once had been his body.

“You look...glowing,” he said. He really sucked at compliments.

“Thank you. I guess.” Her smile made her aura illuminate even brighter, making a glowing halo around her head.

For whatever reason, he felt the need to elaborate. “I don’t just mean your aura, though yours is spectacular. But your human form is beautiful.”

Her smile widened, making her whiskey eyes sparkle. “Wow. Thanks. You kind of made my day.”

He found himself smiling back. Maybe he wasn’t so bad at this complimenting thing after all.

He let his gaze drink her up, his entire body burning. Funny how he still felt as if he had a body, even though he didn’t. Even when she turned away, completely unaware of his desire, he tracked her with his gaze.

Focus, he reminded himself. He’d come back for a reason—to save Dena, not ache for a woman he could never have.

Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she added cream and sugar before taking a deep sip. “Ah,” she sighed. “That’s good.”

“Torturing me now?”

For an instant, she looked stricken, and then she shrugged. “Not my intention at all. But I apologize nonetheless.”

He gave a quick dip of his head to show the apology had been accepted. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“I’m going up to the college where your sister works. I want to talk to some of her friends.”

“Sounds good.” Action, finally. He approved. “What about?”

She gave him a long look, clearly debating what she had to say. “I need to find out about her boyfriend.”

“I can save you some time on that. Dena didn’t have one,” he answered, confident.

One eyebrow raised, she nodded. “Okay, then I need to find out about anyone she might have dated or slept with.”

“No need.” He shook his head. “Between work and school, she didn’t have time. She would have told me if there was anyone special.”

Making an exasperated sound, she grimaced. “Tyler, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure your sister isn’t a saint. This man who has her had to have met her somehow. I’m going to try and gather information to see if we can figure out who he is.”


Chapter 5 (#ulink_3e8a1f78-0a1f-5d40-91a8-48a3af933dad)

Tyler started to speak, then thought better of it. No doubt she was right. Not only was she pretty and socially active, but Dena was a healthy twenty-five-year-old. He shouldn’t be acting like the overprotective big brother, not now. Not only had he managed to get himself killed and leave her without any family, but clearly he hadn’t succeeded in teaching her to be careful.

Unless, as Anabel said, the man who’d grabbed her had been someone she’d trusted.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “But you have to consider that it could be a teacher, or a janitor, or even one of her coworkers.”

“Or some guy she’d dated,” Anabel pointed out. “There are a lot of crazies masquerading as normal in the dating scene, let me tell you.”

He cocked his head. “You’ve been dating?”

“I tried. Once or twice—that was it. Just a month ago. I thought it might help me to, you know, get over David. After that, I gave up and deleted my profile from all the dating sites.”

Jealousy stabbed him, completely unwarranted.

“Good for you for trying,” he said, aware of the lie and feeling like a fool. “I think after eighteen months, Dave would approve of you getting back out there.”

“No,” she said softly, her expression shutting down. “He wouldn’t. David was my mate. You were Pack. You know what that means. He’s the only one I will ever love.”

Slowly, he nodded. “I do, though I’m not sure I believe in that particular myth.”

“Myth?”

“Yes. I honestly don’t know anyone who actually met their mate.”

She pointed to her chest. “Now you do. Me.”

Ignoring the emotions swirling inside him, he eyed her. “How did you know? I mean, we all have people we’re attracted to, even people we love. What made you think Dave was actually your mate?”

“I didn’t just think it. I knew, the instant he kissed me.”

He thought of what he’d learned from Juliet. “And Kane McGraw? Did you also know he was your mate?”

At his words, her eyes filled with tears. “I had a breakdown, Tyler. I wasn’t myself.” Holding herself stiffly, she turned away from him.

Clearly, he’d gone too far. He’d realized it the instant he finished speaking. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just wanted to point out to you that it was possible for you to find love again.”

Like with me. More foolishness, as he was nothing but a shade of a man. He waited for Anabel to shoot him down.

But she didn’t respond. Instead she hurried away. A minute later, he heard the sound of her bedroom door closing.

* * *

Though initially she’d been hurt by Tyler’s words, the more she considered them, the more Anabel understood his thought process. Of course he’d doubt her conviction once he learned she’d erroneously dubbed a second man her true mate. As if she’d ever been unsure about David, or he about her.

No, she’d been lonely, stumbling around close to the end of a ledge, and when she learned Kane McGraw had come back to town, she’d sought a way to end the dark cloud of loneliness. Back in school, she’d always had a crush on Kane, even dated him a few times despite his being several years older than her, and with the twisted logic of depression, she’d managed to convince herself that the impossible was real.

When he rejected her, saying he loved another, it had been the final shove and she’d gone under. Her bewildered pain and her burning desire for vengeance had blinded her to the truth and to the light. In a moment of weakness, she’d let the darkness in and had nearly caused a good woman to lose her life. Worse, she’d later learned that Lilly Gideon, the woman Kane loved, had spent fifteen years imprisoned by her own father and his religious cult. She shuddered to think she’d nearly sent Lilly back to that awful life.

After that, she’d lain low. Gradually recovering, aware no one in town would ever look at her the same way again.

She’d made several clumsy attempts to make it up to Lilly McGraw, until finally the other woman had hugged her and told her to stop, that she forgave her. For that, Anabel had been grateful.

Now, for the first time in a long while, Anabel had hope. Never once had she imagined she’d be given the chance to atone by saving Dena Rogers.

While she didn’t personally know Tyler’s sister, she could only imagine what kind of hell the younger woman now faced. Similar, she thought, to what Lilly Gideon had once faced. The parallels of the two women’s predicaments didn’t escape her.

Once she freed Dena, she would have wiped her own slate clean once more.

And Tyler could... She couldn’t help wondering what would happen to Tyler once they’d succeeded in freeing his sister. He’d go back into wherever ghosts went when it came time to move on. The light, she assumed. At least she hoped so. The alternative would be very bleak.

Glancing at her watch, she saw it was nearly nine. If she wanted to get her day started, she couldn’t hide out in her bedroom forever. One thing she’d learned since her meltdown was she had a lot more inner strength than she’d ever suspected. Magic would be a definite bonus.

So she straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath and opened the door. When she walked back into the kitchen, Tyler’s ghostly form hovered exactly where she’d left him.

Again struck by his large, masculine frame, she sucked in a breath. How he, even though a ghost, could practically radiate virility stunned her. Though this time, she noticed an air of isolation around his tall, broad-shouldered figure.

The question in his hazel eyes made her heart skip a beat.

“I’ll do it,” she said, not giving him a chance to speak. “I need to see if I can take a crash course in learning how to access my magic. Once I have some sort of grip on that, I can seriously hunt for whoever abducted your sister.”

He bowed his head, a swath of dark hair falling onto his forehead. “Thank you.”

Uncomfortable with her visceral reaction to so much male beauty, she nodded. Keeping busy would be the best distraction from those kinds of crazy thoughts. “Let’s go.” Snatching up her car keys, she headed toward the door. “We’ll stop and talk to Juliet. I think her first yoga class of the day just finished up. I’m hoping she’ll have some pointers for me.”

Trying not to smile as Tyler crammed his long legs in the passenger seat of her Fiat, she sang along to the radio during the short drive downtown.

As it turned out, Juliet had a lot more than pointers to help Anabel. “You’ll need to read these,” she said, grabbing a short stack of books from a bookcase behind her desk. “This will be a good starting place. Once you have, come back to me with questions.”

Anabel glanced at the books, then at Tyler, who gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “Juliet, I’d love to read them—and I will, eventually—but right now I’m short on time. Tyler’s sister’s life is in danger, and I’m afraid I’m going to need a crash course in magic in order to save her.”

Appearing nonplussed, Juliet swallowed and slowly put the books down on top of her desk. “It’s not that simple,” she began.

“Make it as simple as possible, please.” Though she hated to interrupt her kind friend, Anabel knew every second must be an eternity to the poor woman being held prisoner.

Eyeing her, Juliet appeared to consider. “All right,” she finally said. “But you need to know, magic can be dangerous without knowledge. Extremely dangerous.”

Anabel locked eyes with her friend. With her smooth face and long gray braid, Juliet always radiated peace and tranquility. And strength, Anabel thought. “Teach me how to protect myself.”

“I’ll do my best. But understand, you could still be killed. I don’t know how powerful this warlock is.”

Tyler began to flicker, his form wavering in and out of view. Anabel glanced once at him, bracing herself for the swooping of her stomach as she did. Their gazes locked and held as he slowly solidified. I’m okay, he mouthed.

Once she knew he was all right, she refocused all her attention on Juliet. “Teach me as much as you can in as short a time as possible.”

Juliet nodded. “How long do I have?”

“A woman’s life is at stake, so I don’t have long.” Anabel glanced again at Tyler. “A day?”

Frowning, he shook his head.

“How about twelve hours?”

This time, Tyler reluctantly nodded.

“Twelve hours?” Eyebrows raised, Juliet glanced at her wrist even though she wasn’t wearing a watch. “Sorry. What time is it now?”

“Nine thirty. That gives us until tonight.”

“It’ll have to do, I guess.” Juliet sighed, her soft blue eyes sharpening. “It’s not nearly long enough, but let’s get started on some basics.”

After a quick explanation of what magic was—not so much an external thing, but part of Anabel’s inner spirit—Juliet told her it was time to see if Anabel could feel her power deep inside herself.

Anabel didn’t even have to think. “No.”

“Well, then we’re going to try and feel it.”

“I already tried last night. Nothing happened.”

“We’ll try again.”

“How?”

“Take a deep breath,” Juliet advised. “First, you need to slow down your pulse. Your heart is beating so fast I can see the fluttering in the hollow of your throat.”

Self-consciously, Anabel raised her hand to her neck. “Sorry. I’m a little nervous.”

“Deep breath.”

Obediently, Anabel inhaled. “I can’t help it,” she said, fidgeting in her chair. “This is all very odd.”

“Then we’ll wait until you’re tranquil.” Rising, Juliet lit a candle, moving it over so the scent was close to Anabel. “We may have to do some yoga if this doesn’t help. Breathe. It’s eucalyptus. Very calming.”

Desperate, Anabel inhaled the scent, trying to think calming thoughts, using the same mantra she used when meditating. A moment or two later, she blinked. Darned if she didn’t feel better. More confident and stronger.

“Now we’ll talk about power,” Juliet said, smiling slightly as if she knew Anabel’s thoughts. “Everyone has a spark of magic inside. Some just have more than others.”

Anabel nodded, the fear trying to creep back in. She couldn’t really explain her intense nervousness, but for some reason the entire idea of having magical powers scared her.

If Tyler’s sister hadn’t needed her help, Anabel figured she would just have let the so-called magic stay locked up inside her. If she’d even ever learned of its existence, that was.

“That you are able to see ghosts as more than energy speaks to your level of power. That’s one of the ways it manifests itself.” Juliet grinned. “And the fact that your ability to see and hear spirits didn’t make you go stark, raving crazy is another testament to your strength.”

Strength. “I rarely feel strong, though I’ve realized what I’ve been through and overcome has given me strength. But that doesn’t matter. Tell me what else I should be able to do. Most important, I need the ability to track this creep who has Dena.”

“And fight him,” Tyler chimed in, making Juliet jump.

“I forgot about you,” Juliet said, shooting a stern glance in his general direction. “Fighting won’t be possible, not without a lot of practice. But I can teach Anabel to protect herself.”

“That will have to do,” Anabel said grimly. “As long as I can hold him off long enough to get his captive—or captives—out.”

“And then what?” Juliet asked, her sharp voice telling Anabel what she thought of that idea. “He’ll likely be furious. You won’t be able to hold him off forever.”

Again Anabel and Tyler exchanged a glance. Again, her heart turned over in response. Tearing her gaze away, she focused on Juliet. “Then you’d better do your best to teach me as much as you can. It’s not like I even have a choice.”

* * *

Tyler didn’t know what it was about Anabel—other than her beauty—but every time their eyes met, he found himself entranced. His fascination deepened the more time he spent with her, which was not only impossible, but an unnecessary distraction. He’d come back to the earthly plane with one objective—to save his sister—and he couldn’t let this compelling attraction detour him.

So he decided to leave the two women alone. There wasn’t much he could do anyway, other than be a disruption. Anabel had asked Juliet for twelve hours—an eternity for his sister, trapped and tortured. But this was only the second day since he’d appeared and begged Anabel for help. She needed to learn how to tap into her power if she wanted to have a prayer of finding Dena. He had to allow himself to trust and to hope.

He left the human plane and went to the gray area he privately thought of as the in-between place. Not earth, but not the afterlife either. Once there, he made himself still and then sent himself out. Seeking, searching, for the spark of life force that belonged to his sister.

There. Faint, but still burning. He zoomed to it, passing through nothing and everything, clouds and earth and night sky. When he reached her, in that damp, dank place where she was being held, he once again tried to communicate with her and comfort her.

But Dena had no power and couldn’t sense his presence. In fact, he realized she’d sunk into a state of consciousness where she couldn’t sense much of anything at all.

Horrified, he took stock of her condition. Her once slender body had become emaciated, and even though she lay curled in a corner in the fetal position, he could see the sharpness of her bones. Her labored breathing attested to her general state of unhealthiness, as did her lank and tangled hair. Even her aura had changed, becoming speckled with brown and black, as if a rotting poison festered inside her system.





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