Building From Ashes (50 page)

“Was Anne at the meeting?”

“Yes. Drove me home, as a matter of fact. She’s staying with some friends in town before she goes North. Said she’d come by tomorrow night.”

“Good.” Anne, as well as being a good friend, was also a close associate of Mary Hamilton, the water vampire who ran Belfast. And since Carwyn and Brigid’s first priority was stopping any further distribution or importation of Elixir into Ireland, Belfast was a place they needed to be.

“And I’ve a meeting with Gio later tonight,” Carwyn said casually.

“Oh?” Her ears perked as they always did when his American friends were mentioned. Brigid still hadn’t met them, but had spoken with both several times since their first conversation, usually to find the answer to some obscure fact, but sometimes, just to talk. She liked them both. A lot. The couple had begged Carwyn and Brigid to come for a visit, and they were considering a trip around the New Year.

“What are you two meeting about?” she asked. “Have there been any signs of Elixir in America? Has Beatrice found that scientist who—”

Carwyn cleared his throat. “It’s not—strictly speaking—about Elixir. The meeting, I mean. It’s more of a… personal kind of meeting. About other things.”

She frowned. “What things?”

He shrugged. “Nothing major. Just… things.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You two have a date to watch some wrestling match, don’t you?”

Carwyn opened his mouth, but no sound escaped.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” She tried to suppress the smile. “You were going to hide in the library, put some wrestling program on the television, and you and Gio were going to gossip on the speakerphone.”

He squirmed. “You make it sound so illicit when you put it that way.”

Brigid burst into laughter and hugged him around the waist. “You’re still such a bachelor sometimes.”

“I’ve sacrificed for married life, woman.”

“How?”

“I’ve given up… the Hawaiian shirts during mass—”

“No you haven’t!”

“Well, I don’t wear them
during
mass anymore.”

“You don’t
say
mass anymore. At least, not for a congregation.”

“Details. And I’ve cut down on beer consumption.”

“That is a lie, Carwyn, plain and simple.”

“I shave more regularly?”

“That’s true.” She snorted. “You poor man; you’re almost a martyr. Those sacrifices practically qualify you for sainthood.”

He whispered in her ear, “I do entertain very lustful thoughts on a regular basis, but only about my wife.”

The warm scrape of his fangs against her ear made her shiver, so she whispered back, “When was that meeting again?”

“Not for some time.”

Brigid gave him a wicked grin as she rose and took both his hands in hers. “But is it enough time?”

“Never.” He stood up, darting down for a kiss that quickly grew heated. “It’s never enough time with you.”

“You say that now.”

“I’ll say it always.” Carwyn rose and cast one last look at the sputtering candles before he flicked off the lights of the chapel and led Brigid away.

The three candles continued to light the small chapel, filling the room with a faint glow. Darkness surrounded them, but they shone even brighter for it. The small building remained an oasis of peace in the gathering dark, and faint laughter rang through the still night air.

The End

“We can build again. Even from ashes.”

1.800.656.HOPE

Free. Confidential. 24/7

Or visit
www.rainn.org
for help or more information.

It’s never too late for hope.

Love, Elizabeth

Continue reading for the first chapter of the highly anticipated Cambio Springs series from Elizabeth Hunter, due in Winter 2013…

***

Welcome to Cambio Springs! Population? Well, you could say that it… varies.

In this small desert town, secrets bubble up from the desert floor, and history is written on the canyon walls. Seven friends will gather at the crossroads, because in Cambio Springs, everything—and everyone—changes.

In a town populated by shape shifters, tradition and loyalty hold the community together, but when change comes from the outside, secrets are revealed, friendship is tested, and more than a few claws come out.

Cambio Springs is the new paranormal romance series from the author of the best-selling Elemental Mysteries series, Elizabeth Hunter.

***

Chapter One

Jena Crowe narrowed her gaze at the old man, whose eyes were twinkling with mischief. The corner of his silver mustache twitched a moment before the air around him began to shimmer like asphalt on an August day.

“Joe Quinn, you better not.” She lunged a hand toward him, but only caught the edge of an empty shirt before it fell onto the tired red barstool where Old Quinn’s pants had already pooled. An empty straw hat was the last thing to fall to the ground. “Quinn!” Jena darted out from behind the counter.

The bell on the diner door rang, and a scurrying shadow darted toward it. Jena’s grandmother almost tripped over the tiny creature as she made her way into the air-conditioning with four pies balanced in her hands.

“Goodness! Was that Joe Quinn?”

Jena ignored her for the moment, leaning down to swipe up the empty hat and charge out the door, her brown eyes locked on an old red pickup parked under the shade of a Palo Verde tree on the far edge of the parking lot. She raised the hat and shook it into the dusty air.

“Quinn, I am keeping this hat until you settle your damn bill!”

She saw the telltale shimmer on the far side of the truck, then Old Quinn appeared again, buck naked, sliding into the passenger seat and scooting over to roll down the window. “Aw now, Jena, don’t be hard on me. I’ll pay you next week, I promise. Throw an old man his pants, will you?”

“Not on your life. I hope the highway patrol gives you a ticket on the way home!”

Jena spun around and pulled the door closed to seal in the precious cool air. The temperature in the Mojave desert was already in the 90s at breakfast time, and the radio said it would reach a sizzling 120 at the height of the day. She brushed the damp brown hair off her forehead and stomped behind the counter, reaching under the cash register for the hammer.

“That old snake,” she muttered as she searched a drawer for a nail.

Devin Moon looked up from his coffee. “I always thought his natural form looked more like a horny toad than a snake.”

“Shut up, Dev.” She glanced up with a scowl. “And can’t you arrest him for driving naked or something?”

“I probably could…” Dev glanced down at the sheriff’s star on the front of his shirt. “But I just got my eggs.” He went back to sipping his coffee and glancing at the messages on his phone.

“Why is there a pile of clothes here?” Jena’s grandmother, Alma Crowe, had set the pies on the counter and unboxed them. “Did Joe shift at the counter?”

“Yup.” Jena finally found a nail. “Right after I handed him his check.”

“He still hasn’t paid that tab? Sometimes, I think that man has forgotten any manners his mother ever tried to teach him. Shifting at the counter and running out on his check? Does he have any sense?”

“Nope.” Jena raised a hand and aimed the nail right through the front brim of Old Quinn’s favorite hat. With a sharp tap, it was nailed up behind the register, right next to his nephew’s favorite Jimmy Hendrix T-shirt. “Typical Quinns,” she muttered, eyeing the T-shirt that had hung there since Sean Quinn had abandoned it—and the town—shortly after high school graduation.

Jena turned to the diner that was still half-full from the breakfast crowd. “The hat’s mine until he pays his bill. Someone want to toss those clothes out to the parking lot?”

She saw Dev snicker from the corner of her eye as he sent a text to someone. Alma opened up the pie rack and slid her latest creations in. And the youngest Campbell boy, who was busing tables for her until he left for college in the fall, quietly picked up the pile of clothes that Joe left and took them somewhere out of her sight.

The boy’s grandfather, Ben Campbell, lifted an eyebrow and stared at the hat. “Remind me to pay my tab later, Jena.”

“I’m not worried about you, Mr. Campbell.” The worst of her anger taken out on the unsuspecting hat, Jena leaned over and refilled Ben’s coffee. “I doubt you’ve run from a debt in your entire life.”

He winked at her before turning his attention to Jena’s grandmother. “Now Alma, what did you bring to spoil my lunch today?” The familiar chatter of her regulars began again, and Jena put the coffee pot back to start the iced tea brewing for the day.

When Jena had moved back to the Springs after her husband passed three years before, the last thing she had expected was to be running her dad’s diner full time. Cooking at it? Sure. After all, she was a trained chef and this was the only restaurant in town besides The Cave, her friend Ollie’s roadside bar that sat on the edge of the highway. She expected to be cooking, but not running the place. Unfortunately, a year after she’d moved back, her mother and father decided to answer the call of the road in their old Airstream and Jena had to take over. Now, her parents came back every few months for a quick visit while Jena ran the place and took care of the two boys she and Lowell had produced.

Was it the life she had planned for? No. But then, if Jena knew anything from growing up in a town full of shapeshifters it was this: Everything changed.

Dev finally glanced up from his phone. His mouth curled in amusement as he looked at the old hat hanging on the wall. “Remind me not to piss you off. God knows what you’d nail up for everyone to see.”

“Since you don’t actually live here, Sheriff Moon, that’s a tough call. But I’m gonna say those red silk boxers I saw hanging off of Mary Lindsay’s line would be the first thing.”

“Is that so?” She might have been imagining it, but she thought a red tinge colored Dev’s high cheekbones. It was hard to tell. Unlike Jena, who was only part Native American and still burned in the intense desert sun, Dev was full-blooded. His dark skin, black eyes, and lazy grin had charmed half the female population of Cambio Springs, including one of Jena’s best friends. But then, Dev had charm to spare, even though he knew better than to try it on her.

She said, “I think Ted’s coming in for lunch today. You sticking around?”

“And risk pissing off that wildcat? Nope. But I might go to The Cave tonight.”

“Off duty?”

“Yup. You working?”

“Sure am.” She heard the cook ring the bell and slide two
huevos rancheros
over the pass. Jena pulled them over and slid them in front of the pair of old farmers who were gossiping at the end of the counter. “Ollie asked me to help out this whole week. Tracey’s on vacation with Jim and the boys.”

“I’ll see you there, then. What are you doing with the boys if you’re working all week? Your parents in town?”

“No. Christy’s still home from college.” Christy McCann was her late husband’s youngest sister and her boys’ favorite aunt. “She’s hanging out this week while I’m working.”

The free babysitting would only last a few more weeks. It was August, and though the boys’ school had just started, the state colleges hadn’t. Jena would take advantage of the extra hand that family provided as long as she could. It was the reason she’d moved back, after all.

Well, one of the reasons. The other one had just slithered out the door a few minutes ago.

Tucked into an isolated canyon in the middle of the Mojave Desert, miles away from the state highway that the tourists drove, was the little town of Cambio Springs. It was a close community, made of the descendants of seven families who had made their way west over a hundred years before. Seven families that discovered something very unusual about the mineral springs that gave the town its name.

Dev stood up and walked to the counter. “Well, I’m outta here, Jen. Hey, did you see that Alex was back in town?”

“Really?” Jena looked up from the ketchup containers she was filling and walked over to the cash register. “Have you seen him?”

“Just saw his Lexus out at Willow’s.” Alex McCann was one of her late husband’s many cousins and one of her closest friends in high school. He’d moved, like so many of the younger people, when he went to college. Still, as the oldest McCann of his generation, she’d suspected he’d be back sooner or later.

“At Willow’s, huh?” She gave Dev a sly smile. Willow McCann, Alex’s sister, was one of the few girls that Dev hadn’t bagged, and not for lack of trying. “He’s probably just out for a visit.”

“He still doing the real estate thing in LA?”

“As far as I know. There’s some kind of town meeting tomorrow night. He’s the oldest in his family. His dad probably asked him to show up.”

“Anything I need to be there for?”

Jena shrugged. Monthly town meetings were a tradition in the Springs and the oldest members of the seven families made up the council. It was an archaic kind of government, but when you were running a town full of various shapeshifters, normal rules of city government didn’t always apply. They did have a mayor… but he pretty much did whatever the elders asked him to do.

Alma Crowe, Jena’s grandmother and a member of the town council, poked into Dev and Jena’s conversation. “Nothing the tribes need to be concerned about.”