Page 15 of Rekindled Prophecy

A bite of carrot and beef stuck in her throat. After a brief coughing fit, she regained her composure, although unsure what about the question bothered her. “No, afraid not. I can barely boil water.” To avoid further conversation, Greylyn gulped back more wine before plowing another spoonful into her mouth.

Kael and Maureen kept the conversation going, while Greylyn lost herself in her own ruminations. Kael.What was he doing here, other than to torment her some more? Why did he also keep popping up over the centuries? Why couldn’t he bother some other poor guardian angel? Oh yeah. There were only a handful of her kind left across the globe. Gee, how did she get so lucky? Her very own personal tormentor. Jasper would have a field day if he knew she was sitting at a table having a civilized dinner with their archenemy. Hell, she could not believe it herself.

She was so deep in her thoughts it did not register for a few moments that both had stopped talking and were looking at her strangely.

Maureen cleared her throat. “Lassie, you look like you’re someplace else entirely. You okay, hon?” While Maureen looked concerned and a bit perturbed, Kael’s lips curled up in an amused smile.

Damn! It was as if he knew she was deep in thought about him.

“Sorry, Maureen. Guess I was more tired than I thought from the long drive. Feels like I haven’t slept in days.” Greylyn prayed she bought the lie. Actually, when was the last time she had slept?

“You’re as pale as a ghost, sweetie. You’re not sick, are you?” Maureen even went so far as to reach over to feel her guest’s forehead as a mother would check her toddler for a fever. Oh, now this was a bit embarrassing!

To make matters worse, she added, “Kael, check her palms. Does she seem clammy to you?”

Horrified, Greylyn pushed away from the table. “No, that’s okay. Probably too much wine is all.” Looking down her glass was once again drained. “I’ll just get some fresh air. Please continue without me.” After promising to rejoin them later, she turned to go.

Kael immediately jumped up to walk her outside while the look on Maureen’s face read like an open book. She was perturbed that her dreams of a love connection were not playing out like she wanted.

Greylyn protested, “No, No! I will be fine. I’ll go splash some cool water on my face, and I will be right back. I promise.”

To Kael, she muttered under her breath, “I can see myself out.”

As soon as the backdoor swung shut, she bolted back to her suite in the Carriage House. Obviously, she was losing her touch, or her mind, or both. An encounter with Kael should not affect her so much. Of course, they usually just went straight to the fighting part. This congenial façade was exhausting. Time to regroup and get her emotions under control before delving back into that firestorm. The quicker, the better. She had a wedding to save, didn’t she? What she wanted to do was jump back in her car and speed away, never to look back. But that was a coward’s way out, and she was no coward. At least, she repeated that lie to herself from time to time.

There was only one person who could talk her down off the proverbial ledge. It certainly was not Jasper. If he knew Kael was here, she knew exactly what his advice would be…kill him. Not the best plan considering she would have to concoct some tale as to why she murdered Maureen’s new favorite guest. And honestly, she did not know if she could kill him. She liked to believe she would gut him at the first opportunity. But if that were the case, why had she not done that by now. Besides, Greylyn needed a pep talk, not a directive.

She pulled out her phone and hit the number one button on her speed-dial.

Chapter 6

Calling in Backup

Carriage House

One ring. Two rings. Three rings. “Dammit! Where is he? Answer the damn phone, Thomas!!!”

Her heart sank into her stomach at the thought that he might not answer this time. It was not like she ever had good news to give him when she called. And he might still be slightly ticked that she left him in a lurch a month back when he needed help with a project. She had taken off to save someone else’s bacon without so much as a good-bye.

The next ring she heard the most wonderful sound in the world. The deep, husky Australian accent of her buddy, confidant, and all-around great guy who knew everything about the supernatural, Thomas Moorefield the Third!

“Ow, How’s me girl?”

“Well, it’s about time you picked up the phone, Sparky!”

Inwardly she was so happy to hear his voice she almost cried with relief. Thomas was her “go-to” guy foreverythingshe ever needed. Did not matter what ridiculous thing she asked of him – information about a particular monster, mythology surrounding a given species or situation – he delivered. And on occasion he served as her confessor. He was not an ordained priest or anything, just someone who did not second-guess her every move or pass judgment.

It also did not hurt that he had the sexiest voice on the planet. Not bad on the eyes either. “Nice to hear from you too, doll.” Thomas chuckled.

She slumped against the antique dresser as relief washed over her.

“And what may I help my lil angel with tonight? Need some odd stubby?”

Oh shit! He better not be drinking again!

Thomas had come into her life eight years prior when she coaxed him back from alcoholism. She found the former rugby player passed out in the back of a shady establishment in Baltimore’s inner harbor with a plethora of random prescription pain pills scattered on the tabletop along with an empty pint of rot gut whiskey. When he finally opened his blurry eyes, she had slapped him into sobriety – literally.

“Thomas …”

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