CHAPTER ONE
A man's body lay limp across the rough stone altar. Blood obscured much of what had been done to him - so much blood!
A naked man, his lean, aroused body covered with grotesque tattoos, bent to press his face into the gaping wounds. A gasp, quickly stifled, came from the shadows beyond the fire.
The Priest raised his head at last, blood dripping from his mouth. He gestured, and the fire roared. Flames danced higher and brighter until the fir trees ringing the clearing were no longer lost in shadows.
Voices full of wonder greeted the display.
"Silence!"
Only the fire defied him.
"Which of you is brave enough to undertake a sacred mission? A mission of danger. A mission that will lead to triumph for the Queen!"
A woman's faint and trembling voice broke the silence. "I will undertake the mission, Master. I live only to serve you."
The Priest's laughter rang out. "You all live to serve me! Cowards! Be gone before I strike you all dead!" The clearing emptied in a rush of footsteps, leaving only one woman.
"Come closer."
The woman edged forward, stopping a few feet from the fire. She swallowed hard and her whole body shook.
"You hesitate. Do you fear me?"
Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again, but no sound emerged.
He gestured and the flames licked at her. She recoiled.
Another gesture. "Come to me!"
She shrieked as her body flew straight up and over the top of the fire. She hung suspended over the altar with its grisly adornment.
"Servant, there is one with special powers, powers not yet trained or controlled. The Queen bids us to ensure that those powers not be allowed to fall into the hands of the Council. I bestow upon you a name of much importance - you are now the Seeker. Find this person!"
"But, Master, how can I?"
"You annoy me with details!" he roared. "Do you wish to become a sacrifice?"
She bowed her head. "Oh, no, Master. I wish to please you in all ways." She shrieked again as she fell onto the altar.
"For now, you may please me this way." He draped her body face-down across the altar in front of him - on top of the bloody corpse - and thrust brutally into her.
**
Dee woke, panting and sweating. She glanced around the dark room, relieved to discover she was alone and in her own bedroom. What an awful dream!
Except it wouldn't be her bedroom tomorrow. The movers were coming in the morning, and she'd be in that cruddy apartment in Beaverton by noon. She'd miss this house.
"Mr. Bill, where are you?" she called softly.
The sixteen-pound black-and-white cat strolled into the room. "Mao!"
Dee heard the accusation in his tone and quickly said, "I know, sweetie, I disturbed your sleep. I'm really sorry." She held out her arm, needing comfort. Mr. Bill, as always, was ready to give it. He hopped onto the bed and positioned himself just right for sleep.
She shivered, the dream still sticking in her brain like it was a scene she'd witnessed in person. She hadn't, of course. She'd just imagined it - just like she'd imagined the things in those other dreams.
It had simply been a coincidence that Mr. Mickelson's plane crashed right after she'd dreamed about it happening.
**
"Winston, sweetie - this place is a dump!"
"Damn," he whispered under his breath, setting the box down in the middle of the living room. Why did she have to race over here before he'd even finished moving in? "Hi, Mom. And remember - it's Win."
"Whatever you say, dear." Until next time, when she'd probably call him Winston again. "This apartment is still a dump - I don't see what your grandfather could be thinking of, sending you some place like this. The floor plan is completely out-of- date, and if they've replaced the carpet this decade, I'd be amazed."
"I'm not here because of the floor plan," he reminded her. "And close the door, will ya?" Having his new neighbor overhear why he was here would really mess things up.
Instead of pursuing the conversation after closing the door, she wandered around the room with an intense expression he recognized - real estate whiz Debbie Sayre in action. Shifting into sell-the-prospects mode, she said, "You could really brighten up the place with the right curtains and a fresh paint job. Plus, it's convenient to Washington Square..." She looked around some more - if she was searching for more positives to point out, this visit might last all day.
She frowned again. "In any case, I don't understand why your grandfather doesn't just have you live at home - we're only a few miles away."
Oh, yeah. Living at home would be so much fun, what with Mom wanting to know every tiny detail of his life and Dad giving him that you've-disappointed-me scowl all the time. "Because I need to be here. That's my assignment, and besides, it's not Grandpa who sent me here. The Council decides things like this."
She frowned prettily, and for the first time he noticed that she was carrying a big plastic container of cookies. His mouth watered - it had been months since he'd had her wonderful chocolate chip cookies.
Mom asked, "So, what's your big assignment, and why do you have to be here to do it?"
There was never any point in refusing to answer her - she was relentless in her questioning, and he could be sure she wouldn't pass on anything he told her. How could she? Dad refused to listen to anything related to the Balance, and none of her friends or colleagues would believe the truth.
He gestured at the wall between apartments. "It's my neighbor. I'm here to protect her."
"What's she like?" she asked, an unmistakable match-making gleam in her eye.
"I've only been here an hour, Mom!" And he was sweaty from the move - what kind of justice was there in a day in late March being sunny and over 70 degrees? This was not the time to be introducing himself to Diana Plaas.
"No time like the present," Mom said - one of her favorite sayings when he and Su had been growing up. He'd always hated it. "Luckily, I baked lots of cookies..." Her voice trailed off as she seemed to notice the state of his kitchen - full of packed boxes. "Well, I'm sure that this new friend of yours will have something to put your share of cookies in."
What? Mom was going to give away his cookies?
**
Dee stared at the door, not sure that someone had knocked until she heard the sound again. Who could it be?
Probably a door-to-door salesperson. She hadn't met any neighbors, and none of her former friends knew where she'd moved. Not that they would have cared - they hadn't really cared about her in the first place - but she'd be ashamed for them to see her living here.
Mr. Bill slinked into the bedroom, furry belly nearly dragging on the yucky orangey carpet. That made it official - someone was at her door.
She opened the door nearly all the way, then realized that wasn't smart in this neighborhood. She might not have many possessions, but that wasn't all an intruder could be after.
The woman's broad smile nearly blinded her. "Hello there! I'm Debbie Sayre, and my son is your new neighbor!"
No! It couldn't be! It was, though - the green blazer with shiny gold buttons and that perky, perky face and thrilled-with-life grin proved it. But maybe, just maybe, Debbie wouldn't recognize her. Dee certainly looked vastly different now - no longer an awed-by-her-new- husband newlywed with clothes from all the right stores. Besides, Barry had been the one Debbie had concentrated on pleasing. Something as crucial as selecting the right house had been worthy of his attention.
Debbie's smile suddenly faltered and she said, "I know you! You're Mrs. -" The smile died completely, and Dee knew she remembered everything. "Mrs. Mickelson. I'm so sorry - it was such a tragedy. Your husband, and his father..."
She nodded. "Yes. Yes, it was." Bouncy Debbie Sayre had no idea how tragic.
For once, Debbie didn't seem to know what to say. Dee seized the opportunity. "If you'll excuse me..." She started to push the door shut.
"Here - have some cookies," Debbie managed, shoving a plastic container into her hands at the last possible second.
Cookies? She was giving Dee cookies? Couldn't the perfect plastic bitch see? Did she want Dee to gain another ten pounds?
But then, what did it matter, anyway? Mr. Bill still loved her, and he was the only male who mattered.
**
The cookie container was in front of Win's apartment door when he came upstairs lugging the last box. It still looked full, and that was a surprise. Not to be rude, but the brief glimpse he'd had of Diana hadn't made him think she'd turn down homemade cookies.
It hadn't made her seem likely to be the widow of one of the up-and-coming young businessmen in town, either, yet that was exactly what Mom said she was. Had been, he guessed was more accurate. He didn't really recognize the name Mickelson, but he did have a vague memory of the accident Mom described.
They'd died in early January, and it was only late March now. What had happened in the intervening two months? Shouldn't Diana be a rich widow, living in luxury?
**
Knock-knock. Dee looked at the door in horror. That awful Debbie Sayre wasn't here again, was she? No, it wouldn't be her. Dee had heard her leave close to an hour ago.
As Mr. Bill disappeared into the bedroom, she opened the door a few inches. The most gorgeous man in the universe was standing there. He smiled at her - at her, not just in her direction. "Hi, Diana. I'm sorry about my mom earlier, but that's the way she is sometimes."
"That's okay. You're my new neighbor?"
He nodded, and she found herself staring at him. He wasn't particularly tall, so she didn't have to tilt her head up like she had with Barry. He was lean and fit, and his face was just on the masculine side of beautiful. Even his hair was gorgeous - thick waves of rich chestnut hair that would be heaven to run her fingers through. And his eyes were a wonderfully smoky shade of gray that made him seem brilliant and deep and intense. But her fingers would never get anywhere near his hair, she reminded herself, and he was probably stupid and shallow.
"I'm Win Sayre," he said.
"I'm Dee Plaas." Should she explain about her name? Debbie had undoubtedly told him she was Diana Mickelson. No. No explanations. It wasn't like the guy really cared - he was simply being polite. Debbie had probably trained him from birth in the art of making people think they mattered to him. Barry had treated her like that at first, before he'd gotten bored with the pretense.
"Have you lived here long?" he asked.
"Just a few days." It was the truth, but she would have lied about it if she thought it might make him go away any sooner. There was something about him that made her nervous, and she didn't think it was simply his astonishing good looks. It was like he really saw the things he looked at. Of course, the difference could be that he was looking right at her instead of off to the side somewhere as virtually everyone else did.
She took a step back from the door and said, "Look, thanks for stopping by to introduce yourself, but you're busy, and so am I. I'll see you around." She gave the door a slight push, hoping he'd get the idea before she had to slam it in his face.
He put his hand on the other side of the door to hold it open. "You gave back all the cookies. Don't you want some? They're great."
"You eat them, then."
He clearly wasn't used to being brushed off. He tried again. "It's dinnertime, and I don't know the area. Show me a good place to eat, and I'll buy."
He smiled, and she had to hand it to him. His smile appeared more sincere than Debbie's, and Debbie had undoubtedly practiced hers for more years than this guy had been alive.
Dee looked him straight in the eye. "Let me make something clear right now. I may look like a pathetic excuse for a human being, and maybe I even feel like it sometimes. I don't need your charity, though - nor will I accept it. Just go away and leave me alone, okay?"
She didn't wait to see if that was okay with Win. She gave the door a hard shove, and when it was firmly closed, she snapped the flimsy deadbolt into place.
Win Sayre might look like her wildest fantasy come to life, but Dee knew all too well what had happened the last time she bought into a fantasy. It had turned into a nightmare she had yet to escape.
**
The cabin was lit only by a roaring fire. The Priest reclined on a bare mattress, stained in many places. The Seeker knelt inches from his mud-caked boots.
"I have found the one you seek, Master."
"Excellent! Tell me more."
"This person lives in Beaverton, Master. It is as you say - the powers are uncontrolled and strong. Very strong."
"We act tonight, then. Do you wish the honor of preparing the sacrifice?"
"The sacrifice, Master?" she asked. "The one I have found is to be a sacrifice?"
He shoved her aside as he stood, then moved to a table full of knives and began to sharpen a small one. "Not simply a sacrifice, Seeker. The sacrifice. The Queen herself bids us to do this! Do you question the Queen?"
"Oh, no! Master, I would never question the Queen!" Her voice quavered as she prostrated herself at his feet again.
"See that you don't." He raised her to a kneeling position, bent her head back, and used her bare white neck to test the sharpness of his blade.
**
Dee struggled awake, part of her expecting a knife to slice into her fragile flesh any second.
But there were no knives here. Only the twisted covers she was huddled under. And, of course, Mr. Bill.
Why was she dreaming about that horrible tattooed man again? And why all the knives?
She hoped that these dreams were simply a product of stress and worry. If they weren't, some poor person in Beaverton was in big trouble.
She would have had an easier time going back to sleep if she herself wasn't living in Beaverton.
**
Something evil was out there - outside the protective circle he'd cast around his apartment and Diana's. It had brushed against the circle earlier, and the merest tinge of its power had jolted through his body. Whatever it was, it was powerful.
And if it hadn't been for Win and his power, it would have Diana by now. He poured more power into the magick circle, reinforcing it in case the evil thing made an all-out do-or-die assault on it.
But it didn't. After an interminable length of time, it went away, and the circle still held. He was stronger than the evil!
He was thankful now for the endless hours of practice he'd put in. The tasks Grandpa had assigned him had often seemed designed more to make him give up in frustrated exhaustion than to teach him skills he'd need in the future.
He knew better now. He was sworn to uphold the Balance. The power he could summon and direct was all that stood between him and failure.
**
Dee saw the woman look around the busy bookstore café, then head toward her table. The woman's all-black attire - and was that a tattoo on her ring finger? - made Dee nervous.
"Excuse me - could I sit here for just a minute?"
All the other tables were full, so Dee couldn't refuse. "Sure. I'll be leaving in a minute."
Actually, she wasn't due back at the accountant's office for half an hour.
Yes, it was a tattoo! That must have hurt. It was strangely attractive, though. The woman also had a large bandage that peeked out from her neckline. Had she had surgery recently?
The woman clunked a stack of books on the table, pulled out the other chair, and sat down. Then she started digging through her massive purse. "Thanks. I never can manage to hold onto books and look through my purse at the same time."
Dee finished her coffee, but the woman seemed to be completely ignoring her now, so she didn't get up. She would review what she wanted to tell Mr. Templeton in the meantime. Her interview with his assistant earlier had gone okay, but Mr. Templeton was the one who'd make the decision. She listed in her mind the various software packages she'd used and the types of reports she'd prepared. Really, she was likely to be the best-qualified person they'd find for the wages they were offering.
The woman continued to ignore her, and Dee couldn't keep her eyes away from the books any longer. She loved books, and couldn't wait for the day when she could buy that many books at one time again.
The title of the top book made Dee catch her breath - How to Foresee the Future.
The woman must have seen her looking at the book. She said, "Look, I know you probably think seeing the future's all a bunch of hooey. I did, too, until -" She shook her head. "Well, it's a long story."
Suddenly, Dee didn't feel quite as alone. "No. I know it's real." Where had those words come from? She didn't believe her dreams foretold the future. Or maybe she did, and just hadn't admitted it before. "I wish it wasn't."
The woman stared at her in amazement. "But why? The future's going to happen - if you know about it ahead of time, you can be prepared."
She remembered seeing Mr. Mickelson's plane crash in her dream. "There are some things you can't prepare for," she said flatly and got to her feet.
The woman caught up with her as she reached the door. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. But please, let me give you this number - it's for this study group I'm in, and if you really want to stop seeing the future, I'm sure the leader could help." She pressed a card into her hand. "My name's Callie, by the way."
Callie was watching when Dee passed the nearest trash can, so the card got stuffed in her purse. That didn't mean Dee would ever make the call.
Because she wouldn't. Making the call would mean she believed this stupid dream thing was real.
**
Win had blown it. Diana was gone, and he had no idea where.
The problem was that he'd stayed awake until close to dawn keeping the magick circle strong. Once he'd been sure the evil thing had left, he'd gone to sleep, trusting that the circle would keep them both safe.
The magick circle was broken now, something he would normally have felt happen. Evil hadn't breached the circle - that would have created enough commotion to wake him. Almost certainly, Diana had simply left her apartment on her own.
But that didn't mean she was safe. Once she was outside the circle, she was no longer under his protection. She could be taken or killed. Every minute was dangerous. He had to find her!
He sat on the couch, closed his eyes, and drew all his awareness inward. When he was ready, he stepped out of his body and hovered in the living room. His body remained on the couch, still breathing but motionless.
With practiced and economical movements, he cast a new protective circle around his apartment. His body wouldn't be able to protect itself while he was astrally walking, and if his body was harmed, he'd have nowhere to return.
This next step was the tricky part. He could astrally travel anywhere in an instant, but he needed to visualize where he wanted to go. Normally, he just pictured the place, if it was one he'd been to, or imagined traveling there, if it wasn't.
The problem was that he had no idea where Diana had gone, nor what she was doing. That wasn't a problem with someone he knew well - someone like his sister, Su. He could simply hold an image of her in his mind and tell himself to go to her. Unfortunately, he barely knew Diana.
That method was his only choice, however. He called up every detail he could remember of what she'd looked like yesterday.
Her hair was blonde - not that pale color that kids sometimes had, but not brownish at all, either. He guessed it was long, but she'd had it yanked back and plastered to her head, so he couldn't really tell. Big glasses with thick lenses had totally obscured the color of her eyes. Her skin was pale and somewhat blotchy and not very healthy-looking. And she'd been wearing a gigantic navy blue sweat suit - it had been large on her, but that had only emphasized the excess weight she was carrying.
But all those were physical details. The right way to do this was to include the whole person - their personality, their attitudes, their emotions - everything. So, what had he observed?
Well, she'd sounded really negative about herself - saying she was a pathetic excuse for a human being and all. But she was no doormat. Even though she didn't seem to like herself, she basically insisted that she had as much right to live as anybody else.
Okay, that was better. Her image was clear enough in his mind that he should be able to find her. So he reached out for her - and there she was. Instantaneously, he was in a car, and she was climbing into the driver's seat. He looked around. They were in a strip mall parking lot. A glance at her showed that she was somewhat dressed up in nice slacks and a blazer - she must have had some sort of appointment today.
He'd found her, and she was perfectly all right! Before he so much as took a deep breath, he saw that she was looking right at him. It was clear that she saw him, too - quite a rare talent. He wished he could tell her that he was there to protect her, but while in his astral body, he couldn't speak.
She glared at him and poked a finger into where his stomach would be, if his physical body was here. "Go away!"
And suddenly, he was back in his body, in his apartment.
How had that happened?
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