Obviously, the telling this story was not easy for her, even if Mitch wasn’t sure why. He tipped Lilith’s chin with gentle fingers and kissed her lightly, wanting only to ease her distress. Mitch savored the sangria-tinged taste of her lips for the barest moment, then lifted his mouth slowly from hers.

Lilith’s breathing was rapid, her eyes were luminous. Her lips were slightly reddened from Mitch’s kiss, her hand rested against his chest. She looked puzzled, despite the flame in her eyes. “Why did you stop? You didn’t then.”

If nothing else, she was honest about her desire.

Mitch’s certainty that Lilith wanted him - again - was all he needed to be ready to repeat their first meeting, with ease. But Mitch didn’t want to do that.

There was something too precious at stake.

Mitch caught Lilith’s hand in his and ran his thumb across her palm as he watched its course. He wondered how he could explain to her that he wouldn’t surrender his self-control again.

The task might kill him, but Mitch was not an impulsive kind of guy. He wasn’t like Kurt, he didn’t love ‘em and leave ‘em, he deeply believed that lovemaking was an expression of commitment between two people.

If he and Lilith ever made love again - and Mitch was starting to think it was a serious possibility - it wasn’t going to be on impulse. It wasn’t going to be one night fling or a one time deal, it was going to be for all the right reasons. It was going to be for good. If Mitch ventured back onto the field of love, he was going to get it right.

Lilith deserved as much.

He wanted to know her, he wanted to love her, he wanted to believe as ardently as she did that they were destined to be together.

It was kind of a weird certainty she had, and an illogical one, but now that he knew it was harmless, it was starting to grow on Mitch. He smiled down at her. “Because you didn’t finish the story. What happened?”

To Mitch’s surprise, Lilith’s eyes clouded and she bit her lip. He frowned, having expected roses and sunshine from this point forward.

“We made love,” Lilith admitted softly, her voice breaking over the words. “All the night long.”

She traced a little circle on Mitch’s T-shirt with her fingertip and he watched her tears inexplicably well up, even though he couldn’t imagine what had made her so sad.

“One of my uncles saw you leaving my tent in the morning. He demanded the truth and I didn’t lie.” Lilith swallowed. “He went to the town to demand a bride price.”

That sounded pretty medieval. “A bride price?”

Lilith lifted her chin. “You had taken my virginity. I had given it to you willingly, and I refused to lie about it. I didn’t care who knew we loved each other. My uncle declared that you owed compensation to the kumpania, whether you wed me or not.” Lilith inhaled sharply and Mitch was surprised by the obvious strength of her feelings. “I knew that you would marry me, because you had pledged to return to my side.”

Mitch had a definite sense that things hadn’t gone well from this point. Lilith’s tearful defiance was not a good sign. “And?”

“You did not come.” Lilith frowned and pursed her lips. “Not the next night or the next. My uncle could not find you, all shunned me in the kumpania. They were certain that a gadjo had used me for his pleasure and cast me aside.”

Mitch watched her, more than a little troubled by the toll her story obviously took from her, yet not knowing quite what to do about it.

“Then, suddenly, we were summoned to a hearing in the town square. All the cards and signs in the wind declared that the meeting would be one of great import.” She straightened and squared her shoulders, but her voice was small. “We went.”

Lilith licked her lips and stared resolutely at the middle of Mitch’s chest. He felt her tremble. “It had been three days since we laid together, three days and nights that you had not kept your pledge. I was so worried, half-afraid something had happened to you, half-afraid that my uncle was right and that you did not love me, after all.”

Mitch felt a lump rise in his throat for this trusting young girl. He was half-afraid himself that she was right about her Romeo’s motives.

He wondered suddenly whether this story was a way she dealt with a painful, but much more recent memory. That would make an awful lot of sense.

Mitch wondered how he could find out for sure.

“In the square, they said a widow had been murdered, that the culprit was found and would be punished.” Lilith lifted her gaze to meet Mitch’s and he saw pain shining there.

No doubt about it, Lilith was hurting.

Mitch’s protectiveness surged to the fore and he instinctively put a hand on her shoulder. She leaned against him in a way that seemed markedly out of character. Mitch had already seen how independent and strong Lilith could be.

But this story cut deep. He wished belatedly that he hadn’t asked her for it. Mitch’s gut told him that it was only going to get worse. He pulled Lilith into his arms without another thought.

She was shivering, as though it wasn’t hot enough to fry eggs on the sidewalk, and she clutched two fistfuls of his shirt.

“It was you,” Lilith whispered unevenly. Mitch blinked, then he realized that she meant him as Sebastian.

Lilith’s words suddenly gained momentum. “They said you had been possessed by demons, tainted by laying with a Gypsy whore, they said you were a criminal. I knew it wasn’t true, I knew it was a lie, I knew that you would never hurt another, but they would not listen to me.”

Her voice dropped low and for the first time, Mitch heard bitterness in her voice. “I was just the Gypsy whore, after all.” Lilith halted and swallowed awkwardly, her fingers tapping restlessly on Mitch’s chest. She caught her breath, she trembled, and the words tumbled out of her.

“And then, before all of us, they hung you until you were dead.”

That startled Mitch, no less the way that Lilith’s tears began to fall in earnest. They fell like scattering jewels, splashing on his skin in an endless torrent.

This had gone far enough.

Mitch closed his arms tightly around Lilith, his voice dropped with low urgency. There were psychologists who specialized in treating emotional trauma, all sorts of experts who could help Lilith deal with whatever had happened to her and put in securely in the past.

And Mitch decided right then and there that he would ensure she got that help.

“But, Lilith, that can’t be...” he began, but got no further before she laid a firm finger across his lips. One look into the intensity of her eyes silenced him, at least for the moment.

“You don’t know the rest of it,” she declared. “You can’t. They said it was my fault, they said they would burn the Gypsy whore who had poisoned one of their own sons. They chased us from the town with flames, all of us, and set fire to the woods behind us. We fled with the speed of the wind and they could not catch us.”

As delusions went, this one was pretty thorough. Mitch tried to find something good in all of this drama. “But, in the end, your kumpania sheltered you, right? You all stuck together?”

Lilith’s lips twisted and her tears welled again. “Of course not! They could not. They cast me out.”

“What?”

“I was declared mahrime. Unclean.” Lilith’s words were flat, although Mitch guessed her tone hid a wealth of emotion. “It was bad enough that I had lost my maidenhead to a gadjo, but the fact that he did not pay the bride price was an insult that could not be endured. No Rom man would have me, then. A mahrime person can infect others with their pollution. I could not be permitted to remain. My presence was a risk to the cleanliness of all.”

Okay, things had gotten even more medieval in her mind.

But the truth was clear to see, at least to anyone who looked. Mitch heartily disapproved of what he perceived Lilith’s family had done. So, she had been caught as a young woman in a compromising position - her family had no right chucking her out into the world.

Suddenly, a lot of puzzle pieces surrounding Lilith fell into place - Mitch would bet that all those missing records were registered in her real name, whatever that might be.

And she had simply taken another name for the purposes of day to day living - Lilith for the Old Testament woman who could not control her passions. That would be a result of whatever nonsense her parents had dumped on her. And Romano, perfectly fitting with this whole Gypsy thing she had concocted as an alternative to the truth and now ardently believed was the truth.

It wasn’t that Lilith didn’t exist - it was that Mitch had been looking for her in the wrong places.

Mitch didn’t really care about such practicalities right now. It made him damned mad to think of what Lilith had endured at her family’s behest. He couldn’t imagine that either of his kids could anything bad enough that he would just toss them out the door to fend for themselves. It was wrong. It was unfair.

It was not in the parental job description.

Mitch didn’t want to frighten Lilith with his anger, but he couldn’t just say nothing at all. He wanted her to know that he was on her side. Mitch forcibly kept his tone even. “It’s pretty cruel to leave a young girl alone like that,” he confined himself to saying.

To Mitch’s surprise, Lilith smiled thinly. “I wasn’t destined to be alone. You swore to return to me and repeated your vow on the gallows. I knew you would find me.” Her eyes saddened again. “Even though I never imagined it would take so long.”

Mitch saw the full weight of the loneliness he had only glimpsed in Lilith earlier. She seemed to be wrung out emotionally by sharing this story, even in its disguised version, though Mitch supposed that made sense. It hadn’t been easy for her, and she had said she refused to even think about it any more.

He was humbled that she trusted him enough to share this with him. Lilith leaned against Mitch, her cheek against his heartbeat and Mitch felt her tears dampen his T-shirt again. This time, though, they ran silently.

“I’m so glad,” she whispered softly and unevenly, “that you’re finally here.”

There was an ache in Lilith’s voice that made Mitch want to make everything come right in her lopsided little world. Someone was hurting, someone expected him to make it all better, someone was counting on him.

Mitch was securely back on familiar ground.

He wanted to apologize for taking so long, even though he knew Lilith wasn’t talking about him or maybe even aware of the truth anymore. But he wouldn’t lie to her, at any cost. So, the only way to reassure her without uttering a lie was with his touch. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to do, the one thing his heart had urged him to do all along.

The difference was that Mitch had finally decided to listen to its urgings. Whatever the cause, whether it was the lady’s own allure, her vulnerability or her concoction, Mitch was completely enchanted by his neighbor.

And he couldn’t bear her tears. Mitch gathered Lilith into his arms, cupped her chin and gently touched his lips to hers. He gave her plenty of latitude to pull away, but she immediately parted her lips beneath his own.

She still wanted him. Mitch’s heart thumped. But that wasn’t what this was about. He wanted to reassure her, to ease away her fears, to make sure she slept without nightmares tonight.

Mitch tilted Lilith’s face upward, he brushed away her tears with his fingertips. He kissed her brow, her temple, her eyelids, he tasted the salt on her flesh. He nuzzled her earlobe, he swallowed every last tear as though he would take her hurt into himself and wipe it away forever. Lilith sighed and leaned against Mitch, her fingers found their way into his hair.

She caught the back of his neck and deepened their kiss, her need firing Mitch’s desire. He let his hand slid down her throat, he cradled the ripe curve of her breast in his palm. His thumb moved surely across her breast and her nipple tightened beneath his touch in silent demand. Lilith made a tiny cry of surrender and Mitch knew then that mere kisses wouldn’t do.

She needed more reassurance than that - and Mitch knew just what that would be. He scooped the lady up and headed into the house, having no desire to entertain his new neighbors more than he already had.

 

* * *

 

Lilith’s heart sang when Mitch swept her into his arms and strode into the kitchen. His gentleness was more than reassuring, his touch made the pain of recollection fade to nothing. Everything had been so vivid in her mind, Lilith felt as though she was standing in that square again. She could smell the flames, she had seen Sebastian go limp and felt the wave of loss roll through her.

It was wonderful to be able to clung to the solid strength of his shoulders, to know that they were together again, to be certain that all had come right in the end.

Mitch kissed her and Lilith forgot everything except the feel and the taste of him, the here-and-now of him. She locked her arms around Mitch’s neck and kissed him back, willing him to understand her fear and her relief. Lilith couldn’t wait, she wanted to make love with him immediately, again and again and again.

They had waited long enough.

She had waited too long. She needed his touch this night the way a fish needed water and a bird needed air. Lilith needed her one true love.

Mitch’s arms tightened around her and he halted beside the kitchen counter. When he put her down there, Lilith was delighted that their thoughts were as one. She shivered when his hand roamed down her back. She twisted to face him, wrapped her legs around his hips, and found that the height of the counter was absolutely perfect.

Lilith pressed herself against Mitch’s chest, snuggled herself closer to his erection, and tangled her fingers in his hair. He was warm and muscular, solid and strong. Mitch groaned, then slanted his mouth possessively over her own. His hands slid beneath her skirt and clenched her buttocks. He lifted her closer as he kissed her deeply.

Perfect bliss. Lilith closed her eyes and enjoyed the heat of his kiss.

When his fingers slid into her underwear, Lilith caught her breath. She reached for the fly of his shorts, but Mitch caught at her hand. He lifted his lips away from hers, his eyes blazing like stars, and kissed her fingertips.

“Not that,” he said with quiet assurance and put her hand back on his shoulder. Lilith would have protested in confusion, but Mitch brushed his thumb across her lips to silence her.

“not tonight,” he murmured, resolve in his gaze. “If we ever make love again, Lilith, it’ll be because we’ve both decided that that’s what we want, not because one of us is hurting, not because we make a choice in the heat of the moment. It will be right, and we’ll both be sure of that before anything happens.

Lilith frowned. “Aren’t you sure now?”

Mitch smiled crookedly. “I’m sure I want you more than I’ve ever wanted a woman before,” he confessed and her heart skipped a beat. “But that’s not nearly good enough. I’m not like Kurt. I never wanted to just “get lucky,’” Mitch leaned down to touch the tip of his nose to hers, his gaze intent. “I only ever wanted to make love.”

And his somber expression told Lilith that Mitch wasn’t certain he’d ever had the good fortune to make love with a partner who was making love to him.

Her heart twisted in sympathy at the evidence of his wife’s doings, whatever they were. Despite her own raging desire, her own need to feel his strength within her, Lilith wanted to give Mitch the certainty he craved.

She wanted the next time they made love to be everything he ever imagined lovemaking could be. She wanted it to be as magickal as that night they had once shared. If he could wait, then so could she.

Even if it wasn’t going to be easy.

Lilith wriggled a little, but Mitch didn’t loosen his hold on her. “I should go home, then,” she whispered.

Mitch’s slow smile caught her off-guard, although the way her belly tingled in response to the sight didn’t. “Not yet.”

Lilith knew her surprise showed, because his grin widened.

“There’s something I have to do first.” There was a twinkle in Mitch’s eyes that Lilith wasn’t quite sure she should trust, but she was intrigued.

Mitch brushed his lips across the tip of her nose, her cheekbone, then he placed a gentle kiss in her ear. Lilith shivered at his murmured words. ‘I want to make sure you have sweet dreams tonight.”

Lilith felt a tingle of anticipation, but that was nothing compared to the thrill Mitch’s kisses left as he blazed a trail down her neck. Lilith sighed and surrendered to whatever scheme he had in mind. Mitch turned her as if she weighed no more than a feather and cradled her against his chest. His warm fingers worked the buttons open at the front of her dress and his kisses slipped over the curve of her breast.

Lilith gasped when his mouth closed over her nipple. Her back arched with pleasure when Mitch’s fingers slid inside her panties. He touched her with a persuasiveness that made her dizzy; he flicked his tongue across that nipple until it throbbed. He ran his teeth gently across the peak, even as his fingers caressed her without cease. As the desire already simmering within Lilith came rapidly to a boil, she clutched Mitch’s shoulders, certain she would explode at any moment.

But he kept her just shy of the summit, teasing and touching, tempting a little more, then a little less. Lilith writhed in his embrace. She was certain she couldn’t stand the tension any longer and whispered his name urgently.

Mitch claimed Lilith’s lips in a triumphant kiss, one that demanded her participation. His tongue tangled with hers; his scent surrounded her. His arm held her fast against his chest; his fingers dove and danced and flicked. Lilith felt a tremor begin in her belly. She twisted but Mitch granted her no quarter. If anything, he intensified his kiss, his lips and his caress becoming even more demanding – until suddenly, his fingers slid deep inside Lilith’s heat.

One last flick of his thumb and the earthquake erupted within her. Lilith shook right to her toes with the force of her orgasm. Mitch urged her on and on, long past the moment Lilith thought there could be no more.

Finally, she sagged against him, languid and sated as she’d never been before. Lilith closed her eyes, more exhausted than she was after mixing the most demanding brew. She was ready to curl up in a little ball and sleep in the sun for a week.

“Okay?”

Lilith opened her eyes and met Mitch’s questioning gaze. She smiled sleepily. “More than okay, thank you.” She looped her arms around his neck and leaned her cheek against his chest. His heart thundered beneath her ear, the sound making her smile.

Lilith sighed with contentment.

“Good.” Mitch rubbed the back of her neck. “Now you can safely go home to bed.” He wrapped his hands around Lilith’s waist and lifted her off the counter, kissing the tip of her nose just before setting her on her feet.

She yawned and leaned against him as he buttoned her dress again. They strolled the length of his hall, wrapped around each other, out the front door, and over to her own porch.

Lilith supposed it was sensible for them not to sleep together, at least until the children were used to her, although she would have been perfectly willing to do so. She smiled to herself in recollection of Mitch’s old-fashioned goals, then sobered when she recalled the woman who had made him less likely to believe they could be his.

On her own porch, Lilith pivoted to face Mitch. The newly rising moon cast its silvery light over his features, making him look resolute, yet mysterious. There was so much of him that she didn’t yet know. Mitch’s eyes, though, shone with warmth, and his firm lips curved in an affectionate smile. Lilith wanted to know everything about him, all his secrets, all his woes, all the tests he had endured.

“What happened to the mother of your children?” Lilith asked before she could reconsider the wisdom of the question.

Mitch’s smile was wiped away as cleanly as if it had never been. “Janice left,” he said flatly. “Right after Jen was born.” He paused and frowned at his feet. “She never wanted kids.”

That brought Lilith wide awake again. It seemed to her that this Janice had a funny way of showing any such conviction. How did anyone in a world full of birth control methods end up with two kids she didn’t want?

Not to mention that Lilith knew Mitch would have listened to any concerns his partner voiced. It was just the way he was.

It was one of the many things she loved about him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Mitch shook his head. “If was bad news all around.” He tipped his head back and looked at the stars for a long moment. Lilith knew he had many thoughts on the matter. She was by no means sure he would give them voice.

But Mitch did.

“Do you know why Jen is afraid to be alone?” he finally asked, his question so low that Lilith barely heard the words.

“No.”

Mitch met Lilith’s gaze abruptly, his own dark with intent. “Janice left when Jen was two weeks old.” He swallowed and averted his gaze, a thread of wonder in his next words. “She just walked out of the apartment.”

“No!” Lilith was incredulous. It was incomprehensible to her that anyone could leave their own child in such circumstances. “She left a baby alone?”

Mitch nodded, the memory obviously still troubling to him. And no wonder! “She left a note, said she’d planned it so that I’d be home from work in less than five minutes. Easier that way for both of us. That’s what she said.”

Mitch looked to his feet and propped his hands on his hips. Lilith felt a tremor of premonition before he spoke. “But I was an hour late that night, Lilith. I didn’t take the time to call.” He winced. “Some story broke, I don’t remember what and it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that Jen was crying, alone in that apartment, for a whole hour.”

Lilith laid a hand on his arm, guessing who he was going to blame for this situation. “But were was Jason?”

“Andrea had taken him for a couple of days, to give Janice some time with the new baby.” He heaved a sigh. “But clearly she didn’t want time with the baby.”

His lips tightened and Lilith saw the shimmer of tears in his eyes.

“She was just a baby, Lilith! And all alone.” His frustration was clear. “Jen was all read, so upset that she was nearly choking with fear when I finally got there and lifted her out of her cradle.”

“Mitch, that’s horrible.”

“Yeah.” Mitch looked drawn. “And it was my fault.”

“What do you mean?” Lilith wanted to give this big caring man a shake. “How could it have been your fault? She left!”

“I shouldn’t have been late,” Mitch said grimly. “I should never have been late. I should have known better. I should have called, and then I would have known no one was home. I should have skipped that meeting. I should have known that Janice needed someone to talk to, that she didn’t want to be home alone.” His lips thinned. “I should have taken more time off right after Jen was born. I should have known.”

“Did she ever talk to you about it? Or ask for help?”

Mitch snorted. “Janice? No. She never confided in me, she never had. It only got worse after we were married. Whenever I asked her anything, she just clammed right up.” He heaved a sigh and managed to summon a weak smile that didn’t fool Lilith. “Maybe I never asked the right questions. Or maybe I wasn’t persistent enough.” His gaze flicked to hers. ‘or maybe I’m just not any good at relationships.”

Lilith folded her arms across her chest, more than ready to argue that point. “Then why are you so good with your children?”

Mitch shrugged. “Kids are easy. You pick them up and dust them off, kiss it better and pretend you know best. They believe you. They trust you. They don’t ask hard questions.”

“Baloney,” Lilith declared with resolve. “You’re not giving credit where it’s due. Look around you – how many other people are parenting with your kind of determination? Those kids are crazy about you, and they know they can count on you. It’s not your fault, Mitch, that Janice made a mistake.”

He studied her for a long moment and Lilith had the definite sense that he wanted to believe her.

But then Mitch shook his head and smiled apologetically. “This really isn’t the ending to this evening that I’d hoped for.’ He met her gaze. “Are you still going to have pleasant dreams?”

Lilith smiled. “Of course.” She stepped into the circle of Mitch’s arms and tapped a fingertip on his chest. “I’m going to dream and bout the wonderful man who captured my heart, then came galloping back to claim it all over again.” She reached up and kissed Mitch’s jaw. “And then I’m going to figure out a way to persuade my champion that he’s a pretty rare find.”

Mitch grinned. “Now I’m in trouble,” he teased, not looking too upset by the prospect.

Lilith smiled back at him, having no doubt that she’d see the job done. She’d had a lot of practice with spells, after all.

“How about we dig some garden beds tomorrow?” he suggested, seeming reluctant to leave.

“That would be great. I’ll supervise.”

Mitch chuckled, then bent and kissed Lilith gently. He returned to his own porch, pausing there until Lilith went inside and closed the door. When Lilith turned the lock, the sound of Mitch’s door opening and closing made her smile.

He was so protective – even wanting to make sure she had good dreams.

Lilith leaned back against the wood and smiled to herself, knowing she was living the very best dream of all.

 

* * *

 

9

The Hermit

 

The cards she had left on the table days before seemed to be shimmering in the starlight, even though that light couldn’t have managed to slant through the window and shine on them. Lilith knew well enough to pay attention to such things. She slipped into the living room and stared down at the old tarot cards.

They were not as she had left them.

Ten cards lay face up now, almost the entire left circle on display. Without turning on a light, Lilith sat down and touched them with her fingertips.

The Pope was number five, Mitch in his fury over Andrea’s cruise. The upholder of a code of acceptable behavior, a man unafraid to speak out for what he knows is right.

Even when he’s wrong. Lilith smiled with affection and touched the next card.

The Lovers, card number six. A card of the choice between lingering in the past and stepping on to the yellow brick road to the future. A card marking the threshold that everyone crosses between the security of parents and the potential of partners. A card indicating a realization that any choice bears a cost as well as a prize, that something must be lost in order for something else to be gained.

Something had changed the day that Kurt came knocking, not just Lilith’s choice to evict the men in front of her house, but Mitch had clearly come to a realization, as well.

Lilith’s smile broadened with the understanding of what that was. Mitch had begun to remember. Mitch had decided he wanted to remember more. Mitch had come to talk to her. Not to mention that Mitch had come to protect her from his friend’s seductive plans.

And she and Mitch had very nearly become lovers themselves in the process.

The next card was one of Lilith’s favorites - The Chariot, number seven. A card of partnership and pairing, of two different steeds pulling together toward a single goal. A card also that represents the harnessing of animal desires, the act of putting them to work for the individual’s own good instead of his detriment.

Mitch certainly had shackled their passion. Lilith traced the silhouette of the charioteer and decided it was not such a bad thing. She rather liked his determination that they should be lovers on every level when they came together again. It would make the moment a truly special one, a threshold to their future together. Lilith admired the strength of character and discipline he had developed over the years.

Because Lilith knew that when they did make love, it would be magickal in every way. She and Mitch had their own personalities, their own views of the world and ways of doing things, but like the two different steeds on the card, their objective was as one.

And lifelong partnership was a pretty good goal.

Number eight, Justice, was next. The voice of conscience and morality, it was clearly the voice of Mitch. It was also, incidentally, the card of Lilith’s creed, of living as blamelessly as possible.

But Justice rested upon the presence of laws. As well as the written laws of society, the world of men was governed by another unwritten law, that of morality. And morality rose from conscience.

Conscience, the voice within one’s own mind that governs choices, right or wrong. Lilith recalled that the first circle laid on the table represented external challenges, the second of those invisible hurdles that had to be conquered before the quest was done. The seated lady of Justice on the card, then, was the first glimpse through the portal from the world of the physical to the world of the spiritual. She provided a hint of the second half of the journey.

Lilith thought about Mitch’s certainty of his own responsibility for Janice’s departure and knew this was something he would have to resolve to see his own journey complete.

She’d have to consider how to help him with that when the opportunity arose.

Lilith touched the final card facing up. The Hermit held his beacon before the darkness and Lilith knew it represented the next step on Mitch’s voyage. Another seeker, like The Fool, The Hermit has the wisdom of experience, though he shuns material aid. He sets out alone, to plan, to think, to unravel mysteries. The Hermit represents contemplation and a coming to understanding with one’s own past and one’s own self.

Lilith sat back in her chair and frowned at the card, unable to understand what it meant for Mitch. Was he going to disappear on his own for a while? Had it been closer to his conference, that possibility might have made more sense than it did.

Something flickered in her crystal ball like a beacon, but when Lilith frowned at it, there was nothing really there.

How strange.

But she was really tired, after all. Lilith smiled at the reason for her exhaustion. She yawned finally and stretched, knowing she wasn’t going to see this solved tonight. At least not without some sleep.

And as Lilith climbed the stairs, she smiled once more at the prospect of her pleasant dreams.

 

* * *

 

But unbeknownst to Lilith, as she slumbered contentedly through that night, her very first grey hair unfurled like a silver thread in her dark tresses. It was a stark statement that things had not remained as once they were, that perhaps the elixir she had sipped so long ago was finally losing its grip.

Lilith, though, had such an abundance of hair that she would not immediately notice this herald of change.

 

* * *

 

Mitch rolled into the newsroom Monday morning, quite certain that the world was a good place. He and Lilith and the kids had had a great time the day before, all working together in the garden. Mitch had managed to more or less mow the lawn - even if most of what was growing there wasn’t grass, the yard looked green. Jen’s pool had a permanent location for the rest of the summer, Jason and Lilith had managed to get one bed in place and plant some beans before the skies burst open.

It had been a great thunderstorm and they had watched its show from the shelter of the back porch. Much to Jason’s delight, the power went off, and they ate Lilith’s vegetarian quiche cold, by candlelight.

And the more Mitch talked to Lilith, the more he became convinced that one little kink in her system could be put to rights.

Mitch didn’t even blink when Isabel bounced up to his desk in neon pink biker shorts. Her hair was woven into a thick ponytail, she had sunglasses perched on her head and what looked like a butterfly tattoo on her upper arm. Mitch thought she had a few more earrings than she used to.

“New guy?” he guessed.

Isabel grinned. “Bike courier.” She whistled under her breath and rolled her eyes appreciatively. “Legs like you wouldn’t believe. And stamina.” Isabel giggled, then blushed.

Mitch grinned and shook his head. “Hey, can you do something for me?”

“You know it.”

“Try to dig me up some stuff on selective amnesia, repressed memories, basically whatever the brain does to protect someone from reliving a nasty experience. And, if you run across the names of any clinics or psychologist who are particularly good at treating this kind of thing, jot them down.”

“Another juicy lead?”

“No, no.” Mitch got waved in to the editorial meeting, so he scooped up his notepad. He dropped his voice. “This is personal, so don’t spend the company dime on it. I’d just appreciate any quick pointers you could give me.”

He’d figure out how he was going to run this by Lilith later.

“Sure.” Isabel shrugged, her expression immediately serious. “Anything I can do to help?”

Mitch smiled. She was a good-hearted kid. “Not so far. I’ll let you know what comes out of this meeting.” He waved, sipped the horrible excuse for coffee and headed into the morning meeting.

 

* * *

 

An Irish Wolfhound is a large dog, a very large dog. In fact, many books cite the wolfhound as the Largest Dog. It is not uncommon for a male wolfhound to tip the scales at 140 pounds of lean strength, as Cooley did. Jen wasn’t even tall enough to look Cooley straight in the eye.

Like most dogs, wolfhounds eat their weight in dog food every month. Mitch had never even considered joining a gym, the weekly adventure of hauling kibble and daily task of doling it out for a very interested Cooley - never mind walking the amiable beast - more than enough aerobics for him.

Characteristically placid, wolfhounds are often referred to as “gentle giants”. Loyal and protective, they keep an eye on everyone they consider to be their personal responsibility. Cooley was great with the kids, more than tolerant of Jen’s tail-tugging. He lumbered after Jason on the little boy’s many adventures and Mitch often felt that the dog was the best sitter they could ever have.

But on this particular Monday morning, Cooley was uncharacteristically riled. It was more than a general sense that his “pack” was in jeopardy, he could smell trouble. With canine certainty, the wolfhound knew that the neighbor with the sunflowers posed a dangerous threat to his family.

He paced the length of the new fence, restless at his confinement in the yard. Cooley shoved his nose into the small gaps in the fence and could barely wedge it through, let alone the rest of him. He pawed at the fence and jumped on it a few times, but this time, the fence seemed inclined to stay put.

But there was more than one way to get next door. He couldn’t go through the fence or around it, he couldn’t jump over the six foot height, but with some diligence he could go under it.

So, determined to save his family from dire peril, Cooley settled in to dig at the back corner of the lot. Unbeknownst to the dog, he was hidden from view by a particularly big and dangerously prickly thistle.

It would take a long time for such a large dog to dig a tunnel big enough to accommodate his size, but the thistle would ensure that days passed before the time anyone guessed what Cooley was up to.

And then it would be too late.

 

* * *

 

Much to Lilith’s relief, there was no line of panting men at the bookstore that Monday afternoon. A pair of teenagers giggled as they waited for her, an older woman with sad eyes fiddled with her wedding ring.

And a very serious looking young man waited quietly. He was so different from her usual customers that Lilith thought at first he must not be waiting for her.

He was dressed simply but neatly, in jeans and a white shirt, a black leather backpack at his feet, a sheaf that looked to have been torn out of the yellow pages in his hand. His hair was dark, his skin was fair. He was handsome but unaware of it. He looked about the age to be in university, although he dressed with the somber and well-pressed style of someone older. He sat quietly, barely moving, something about the fathomless darkness - and the steadiness - of his gaze making dread rise in Lilith’s throat.

The bookstore owner was delighted to see her. Ryan had decked her little table with fresh flowers and kept saying how he hoped she’d enjoyed the chocolates. Lilith smiled and thanked him, then beckoned to the teenager first in line. She shuffled her cards, feeling the young man watch her and refusing to consider why he was here.

She knew without doubt that he was Rom, the first Rom she had faced since all those years ago. The first Rom who had ever sought her out. That couldn’t be a good thing. Lilith had actively avoided her kind, refusing to consider herself among their ranks.

Because she was not. It was decided and done.

But the young man’s presence made her nervous, all the same.

 

* * *

 

Mitch came out of his meeting, buoyed by praise for his final copy on a recycling materials scam, to find crisis ready and waiting.

Isabel waved a phone at him. “Hey, you know that source you hung your story on?”

Mitch’s heart sank as he guessed what she was going to say. “Don’t tell me.”

“He called. He’s rescinding. His lawyer says he’ll sue.” Isabel grimaced. “Mitch, he sounds scared.”

Well, that wasn’t too improbable. Mitch had sniffed out organized crime connections to this scam, but hadn’t been able to substantiate them.

The managing editor spoke from behind Mitch. “Davison, don’t lose this one. I’ve cleared the front page for this.” He looked grim. “I want that story, one way or the other.”

“Yeah, me too.” Mitch turned back to Isabel. “See if you can get him on the phone again. Let me talk to him - we’ll try to set up a meeting.”

Isabel chewed her lip. “What if he says no?”

“Then I’ll find what I need somewhere else,” Mitch affirmed, rummaging through the files on his desk. “The story’s there and I’m not the only one who knows it. That forensic accountant knew more than he told us, I knew it at the time. I’ve got his card in here. And the security guard at the plant wasn’t surprised. I’ll revisit everybody and go over it again.”

Isabel’s eyes shone. “Wow! Can I tag along?”

“It’ll be a long haul.”

“But the closest I’ve been to real reporting yet.” Isabel leaned both hands on his desk in her appeal. “Please, Mitch, get me out the goddamn files.”

Mitch considered her for a moment and could understand her frustration. And she could be a great help to him if things were heating up. He looked to the managing editor, who nodded subtle approval.

Mitch flicked the forensic accountant’s card at Isabel. “Sweet talk him into a lunch meeting, just the three of us. Tell him you’ll make it look like a date, he was worried before and might be more worried now.” Mitch eyed her funky clothing wryly. “But to make it look plausible, Isabel, you’re going to have to change.”

 

* * *

 

Even though she sensed the truth, Lilith was still shocked at his first words when he finally took the seat opposite her.

“Rom san?” he asked earnestly, his gaze searching, his pronunciation meticulous.

Are you Rom?

Lilith caught her breath at the question, her gaze flew to meet those eyes so like her own. She licked her lips, then shook her head. “I don’t understand,” she said flatly, disliking the taste of the lie on her tongue.

But she had made her choice and she would stick with it.

The boy heaved a sigh and frowned. “Neither do I,” he confessed quietly and leaned back in his chair, “but my grandmother told me to ask fortune tellers that until one answered me.” He shoved a hand through his hair and looked suddenly very young and burdened. He smoothed the yellow page listings on the table and Lilith saw that he had torn out the section on Occult Bookstores.

They were crossed out in succession, Ryan’s - with its declaration of “Real Fortune Telling on Mondays!” being the one he took a pencil to now.

Lilith couldn’t stop her question, although she was certain hers was just a normal curiosity. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head and summoned a half-hearted smile. “It’s really not your problem.”

Lilith smiled. “But it might make you feel better to talk about it.”

“You’re busy.”

Lilith indicated the lack of line behind him, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Not now. Tell me.”

He looked steadily into her eyes as though considering whether he should do so, then abruptly nodded and leaned closer. “It’s my grandmother.”

He swallowed and Lilith saw how deeply he was troubled. She guessed the pair were close, that perhaps the grandmother was not well, and felt sorry for boy opposite her. She wondered if there was anyone else left in his family, and he almost immediately answered her unspoken question.

“She raised me since my parents died and we used to talk all the time. But since she’s been in the hospital, she seems to be forgetting English. She’s stubborn, though, so maybe she just refuses to speak it.”

Lilith watched his fingers tap nervously and thought of another stubborn Rom grandmother she had known. “What does she speak?” she asked, already fairly certain of the answer.

“Rom,” he declared and Lilith’s heart skipped. “Gypsy. She’s a Gypsy, I guess we all are. But now, I can’t even understand her,” he confessed with rising frustration. “No one ever taught me the language. It’s like she’s pulled away to a place where I can’t reach her anymore. I can’t help her, or explain what’s happening, what the doctors are doing. She has to be scared.”

Lilith’s sympathetic heart twisted a little. “But she must have told you something, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah. She taught me that question last weekend, told me to look for dark-haired, dark-eyed fortune-tellers.” He smiled sadly. “She sent me on a search for a Gypsy fortune-teller who could speak Rom to her. It’s the only English she’s spoken in a month and she refused to understand anything after that. The whole thing is nuts, it’s never going to work, but I have to try.” He frowned and heaved a sigh in frustration, his gaze flicking back to Lilith. “What else am I going to do?”

Lilith studied him and saw more than he probably wanted her to see. “She’s very ill.”

His lips tightened, and looked down at his hands. “Yeah. Yeah, she is.” He shrugged and straightened, deliberately looking at the torn pages once more. “But like I said, it’s not your problem. Thanks for letting me dump a bit. Hey, do you know where Mirvell Street is?”

“It’s just west of here. It runs south.”

But he wouldn’t find any Rom at the occult store there, Lilith knew. Her conviction wavered ever so slightly when she considered the difficulty of the task he had taken on, no less his determination to chase down every lead.

“Why don’t you give me your name and a way to reach you?” she suggested, without ever intending to do so. The boy looked up hopefully, but Lilith tried to keep her words light. “You never know how things might come together - the world works in mysterious ways.”

He smiled suddenly, then delved in his backpack for a pen and paper. “Now, you sound like my grandmother,” he commented. He bent to write out an address in a precise hand and probably missed Lilith’s quick intake of breath.

Then, he thanked her and was gone, his footsteps turning west when he left Ryan’s store.

Unfortunately Lilith couldn’t wipe the exchange from her mind as easily as that. And she knew it wasn’t her imagination that his sheet of paper seemed to generate an insistent heat of its own from the depths of her pocket.

Obviously, she was just jangled from sharing the story of his earlier demise with Mitch on Saturday night. That must be the only explanation for any uncertainty that had crept into her mind.

Because Lilith knew she could not do this. There was no question of it. In her mind’s eye, Lilith saw again the condemnation in a dozen pairs of dark eyes, etched in the features of those she thought cared for her. The memory was painfully vivid, now that she had dredged it up, and the ache of rejection burned in her chest as though she had just been knifed. Lilith had been judged, found unacceptable, and cast out by those she loved.

She was mahrime, after all.

Time had not erased that. No doubt, this old Rom woman would reject her, too. To visit her would be inviting a replay of that painful experience.

Lilith just couldn’t do it.

The Hermit card, though, separated itself from the deck as she absently shuffled, and Lilith’s fingers hovered over it. The man pictured there was elderly, like a guardian in a fairy tale or a pilgrim seeking penitence.

Or like a wise teacher pointing out the thread of meaning that might otherwise be missed in the great tapestry of life.

Lilith thought of Dritta; she thought of a stubborn Rom grandmother dying in the alien world of a gadje hospital. The prevalence of white alone would make her crazy, white being considered a fiercely unlucky color by the Rom.

Lilith frowned when compassion coursed through her and defiantly shuffled The Hermit back into the deck. She even managed to smile for the next person who stepped up to her table.

 

* * *

 

The whole story fell apart in Mitch’s hands. Someone had been busy doing some major intimidation. He didn’t much care where the leak was, he just wanted to get to the truth and get it on the front page.

His source had not only clammed up, but disappeared.

The longer it took to confirm his story through other sources, the greater the chance that the competition would catch a whiff of what was going on. Mitch met with the managing editor at close of business and that man made the call.

“We don’t have enough to run on, not for our reputation,” he said with a frown. “You’ve got another day, Davison. But at four tomorrow, I don’t want to be disappointed.” He shook a finger at Mitch. “This is good stuff. I want it.”

Mitch nodded and ducked out of his boss’s office. He eyed his watch, knew he had to pick up the kids. He stuffed every file he could imagine was remotely pertinent into his briefcase and closed up his laptop.

Isabel looked on enquiringly.

“I’ve got one more day and it’s in here somewhere,” Mitch informed her grimly. “I’ll find another way to get this story, if it takes me all goddamned night.”

But when Mitch got into the office the next morning, desperately short of clues and REM sleep, the managing editor was waiting for him.

Not a good sign.

“What was the name of that source who rescinded on you?”

Mitch told him and his boss grimaced. “What’s wrong?” Mitch asked.

“He’s dead, and not of old age. Maybe it really is a suicide – either way, the story just got bigger.” The managing editor looked Mitch right in the eye, handing him a piece of paper. Mitch scanned the notes. “We picked it up on police frequencies – they’re down there right now. Get your ass down there, take another day, but get the whole story.”

Isabel was practically bouncing in her chair in anticipation as the managing editor walked away. She looked positively conservative, the funky color rinsed out of her hair, her floral dress decidedly feminine. “Can I come?”

“Nope, there won’t be much there,” Mitch said, pulling out his keys again without even making it to his desk. Thank goodness he had driven in today.

There might not be much to see, but either way, he wasn’t going to take Isabel to a crime scene. She really didn’t need to be exposed to that kind of gritty reality just yet. “Call that accountant again and hit him hard at lunch. Someone’s dead and he can save the world, something like that.”

Isabel pouted. “Bill will spout professional standards again.”

Bill? Well, she had laid it on. “Then let him be an anonymous source. He liked you, Isabel, go get him.”

Isabel suddenly showed great interest in the papers on her desk, her change of manner catching Mitch’s attention. “What?” she demanded when he didn’t leave. “Bill’s kind of cute.”

“What about your bike courier? The one with the legs?”

Isabel waved dismissively. “He was way too much trouble.”

Mitch shook his head in amazement. “And you’re done with him” – he snapped his fingers – “just like that.”

“Well, yeah. It’s not a crime to know what you want.”

Mitch marveled that there should be two people in his life who thought members of the opposite sex were disposable accessories. He could have argued whether Isabel really did know what she wanted, but he’d had that argument too many times with Kurt not to know the ending.

“Nice choice of dress, by the way,” he teased instead, guessing the reason for the intern’s choice.

Isabel turned scarlet, then wadded up a sheet of computer paper and flung it at Mitch. “So, I was going to call Bill anyway.”

Mitch ducked and ran.

“Davison, you be careful out there!”

Oh, yeah, he was going to be. Mitch had an awful lot to live for these days.

 

* * *

 

On Wednesday afternoon, Lilith was in her yard. The sunlight was golden, the butterflies were flitting, the humidity that had filled the air for all of August was gone. She could smell the tang of autumn in the air, and already see the change in the shade of green in every leaf. The nights had become suddenly cool and sleep was easier.

Everything should have been perfect. But Lilith edged her beds and weeded the garden, oblivious to the peace around her. She hadn’t seen Mitch since Sunday and acknowledged that his absence was disappointing. With that stubborn grandmother persistently poking her nose into Lilith’s thoughts – and Lilith shoving her out again – the few weeds in the garden didn’t have a chance.

Quite suddenly, Lilith heard a scraping. It wasn’t a sound that belonged in her yard. When she heard a sniffling, she looked for D’Artagnan, but he was nowhere in sight.

And neither was anything else. The garden suddenly seemed to be very still.

Then came the unmistakable sound of scratching. Something was digging in the dirt.

Something was digging a hole in her garden!

Lilith turned slowly, looking for the rodent responsible and determined to take action. Her survey was half complete when a whole lot of dog wriggled under the fence, bounded into her yard, and shook several buckets worth of topsoil out of his fur.

Cooley froze when he spotted Lilith.

She stared back at him, realizing a little too late the mission she had forgotten.

The wolfhound’s nose and paws were encrusted with dirt, his gaze locked on Lilith. She suddenly had a very bad feeling and took a cautious step back. Cooley’s lip curled, and Lilith saw just how very big his canine teeth were. The hair on the back of his neck stood up.

He snarled.

Oh, her antidote had worked very well. Maybe too well.

At this inopportune moment, Lilith remembered reading somewhere that a wolfhound’s jaw was strong enough to snap a man’s neck.

The dog growled.

Lilith backed away carefully, trying desperately to hide her fear but not coming anywhere near to doing so.

Cooley took a step forward, and Lilith took one back. The dog hunkered low as though preparing to lunge and Lilith didn’t care whether he saw her fear or not.

She turned and ran. Cooley barked and pounced after her, covering the length of the yard more quickly than she would have believed possible. Lilith made the porch, but her muddy boots slipped and she grabbed the door handle. Cooley barked wildly – he sounded like he was going to gobble her right up.

It seemed his breath was hot on her heels.

And Lilith was afraid. That was a lot of dog. She leapt into the house and slammed the inner door just as the dog made the porch with a bound. Lilith leaned her back against the door in relief. Her breath came in hasty puffs and her heart was hammering.

She locked the door, even though she knew it was dumb. D’Artagnan watched her with cool amusement from his perch on the dining room table.

Before Lilith could chide the cat, Cooley landed against the door with a resounding thump. His bark made the wood vibrate, and the impact of his weight against the door was enough to bounce Lilith off it. She backed across the room, half-afraid the dog would come right through the wood. At the proximity of his nemesis, D’Artagnan disappeared with lightning speed.

But the inner door was made of sterner stuff than the storm door had been.

Cooley barked in a frenzy, scratching at the door as if he would dig his way through it, too. He was snarling and growling. It was as though he couldn’t stop himself, as though he couldn’t get the idea of attacking her out of his doggy mind.

When it became clear that he couldn’t force his way through the door, Lilith let out a shaking breath. She pushed up her sleeves, shed her boots, and turned to her cauldron, determined to see this solved.

And the sooner the better.

 

* * *

 

10

The Wheel of Fortune

 

It wasn’t the most satisfying chase of Cooley’s life.

His prey, after all, had gotten away.

Cooley barked and scratched at the door, but made absolutely no progress in getting inside the house. And eventually, in the notable absence of his quarry, his enthusiasm waned.

But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t make a point. Cooley stalked away from the house, then gave the garden a thorough sniff just in case the woman was hiding there somewhere. He didn’t find her, so he marked everything of any size, staking the yard out as an extension of his own territory.

Nature called after all his activity and Cooley hunkered down to make a deposit in the middle of the garden.

“Cooley!” the woman called sweetly before he could really begin.

Cooley’s head shot up. There was a porch directly over the door where she had disappeared and she was leaning over the rail.

The temptation was too much.

Cooley ran for the house, barking so that everyone would know the danger she posed to his family. He couldn’t get to the balcony, but he lunged against the house and braced his front paws against the brick. He was so busy barking and snarling that he didn’t notice her tipping something over the rail.

Until the chilly contents of the pot doused him from head to tail.

Cooley yelped in shock, he jumped away from the house. The liquid was icy cold, whatever it was, and smelled like nothing any respectable dog could stand to smell like. He shook himself, desperately trying to get rid of that stink, wondering whether he could find a dead fish somewhere to roll in. He shivered as cold trickled through to his flesh.

At the touch of the solution on Cooley’s skin, everything seemed to brighten for just a moment, like a flashlight was shining directly into his eyes. Then the world faded abruptly back to its usual look, as though nothing had happened at all.

But suddenly, the dog wasn’t quite sure what he was doing in the neighbor’s yard. Cooley just couldn’t remember anything other than his sense of urgency.

A sense of urgency that now seemed inexplicable, even to Cooley.

Cooley blinked. He looked at the garden, but there was no cat in sight. Not one of his people was here and it seemed there wasn’t a very good reason why he had needed to get into this yard so badly.

There was only a great big hole under the fence, and Cooley quite clearly remembered how it had gotten there.

The wolfhound had a sinking feeling that one of his people wasn’t going to like the look of that at all.

He skulked across the yard guiltily and slipped through the hole. He had no sooner begun to roll in the shorn dandelions of his own yard, in an effort to get that smell out of his fur, than the garage opened into the alleyway behind.

Cooley bounded to his feet. The familiar sound of a car hummed a moment later, doors slammed, a resolute step echoed inside the garage. Before the door from the garage opened, Cooley knew exactly who had come home. He sat up straight and tried to look innocent, the tentative thump of his tail a dead giveaway that he was anything but.

 

* * *

 

It was Wednesday night and real life was calling. Mitch’s feature was safely in production, after that mad last minute rush that had brought everything into question. Isabel had done a great job worming the lead they needed - albeit anonymously - out of the accountant. They hadn’t been able to link the suicide and the scam with definite proof, but Mitch had found a Mountie he knew and trusted at the scene Tuesday morning.

Clearly, Mitch wasn’t the only one who smelled things in the wind - the federal officer was awfully senior to be taking an interest. This morning, Mitch had faxed his notes to the Mountie, knowing dots would be connected and justice would be done.

And his article would be on the front of tomorrow’s morning edition. He’d put Isabel’s name on the byline without telling her and smiled in anticipation of her response. It would be her first, and she deserved it.

In a way, he enjoyed when things really hit the fan. He enjoyed the adrenalin rush of having to find another solution while the clock was ticking. But now it was done and gone - another story put to bed - and Mitch could relax.

And right now, he had a whole hour before it was time to pick up the kids. Mitch shoved work out of his mind on the drive home, reminding himself that he had a much more interesting investigation to continue - the one to which his intriguing neighbor held the key.

He rolled down his window and didn’t concern himself too much with the snarl of traffic. The sunshine was wonderful, the heat of it on his arm making him feel as though he’d spent too much time inside this week.

And not had nearly enough sleep.

Mitch cut through the university, circumnavigating the moving vans. In the next week, the campus would be crowded with first-time students moving in to the dorms, jaded undergrads moved into the apartments and sub-divided houses all around the university. In a week, it would be Labour Day weekend; in a week, Mitch would be in Kansas City; in a week, Andrea would be cruising the Caribbean.

In fact, she’d been delighted when he called this afternoon, declaring that she was going to rush right out and finish shopping for her cruise.

The thought of his stepmother led Mitch’s thinking back to Lilith as surely as if he followed a line of bread crumbs home. He thought about the typed summary he had compiled, safely tucked into his briefcase, and decided it was time he went for broke in one corner of his life.

It was unbelievably reassuring that Lilith wasn’t trying to hoodwink anyone. It left Mitch free to enjoy her company, instead of trying to unearth her subterfuge. It left Mitch free to make Lilith laugh, to talk to her, to help her fix whatever had gone so sadly wrong.

It let Mitch do his next best thing after investigative reporting. He could fix anything and he was going to fix this.

After all, you never knew what would be lurking around the next corner, never knew what kind of trouble would blindside you unexpectedly. If nothing else, this week had reminded Mitch that things couldn’t be taken for granted, that anything could change in the blink of an eye.

You had to take chances, risk going after what you really wanted or maybe lose the chance of never having it at all.

Lilith had awakened something in Mitch that he had put aside a long time ago; she had dredged up all those romantic notions of a good life and a good partnership that he was certain had nothing to do with him. Mitch didn’t whether he could have those dreams, whether he deserved them, whether he had earned them.

He was going to stretch out and reach for them.

And the first step on that path was seeing Lilith’s trauma healed.

In the afternoon sunlight, Mitch decided that he was going to ask Lilith for the whole story of her immortality. It would only be then, when she voiced what had to be an illogical story, that he would be able to persuade her of the fallacy of her memories. She had a sharp mind, after all, and he knew she would see the flaw in her thinking.

And then, Mitch would do his damnedest to convince Lilith to go to one of the psychologists he had found. He’d help her in any way he could - but first he had to persuade her to listen to his advice.

And that might not be very easy at all. Mitch guessed that people - especially bright people like Lilith - would not take well to being told that there was a fault in their wiring.

The discussion could go either way in Mitch’s estimation, but he didn’t think he had a lot of choice. It mattered a great deal to him that Lilith be healed - and that was more than worth taking a chance.

 

* * *

 

Opportunity presented itself sooner than expected. Mitch stepped out of the garage to find Cooley looking guilty and Lilith in the act of entering into his yard with a spade.

Mitch looked anxiously at the dog when Lilith smiled and waved. “Lilith, I don’t think you should come in here like that,” he said by way of greeting. “Not after Cooley growled at you last weekend.”

“Oh, he’s just fine now,” she said with a breezy confidence Mitch had a hard time matching.

He looked at the wolfhound whose expression immediately turned hopeful. That tail swept against the ground, but Mitch frowned.

“How can you be sure?”

“He’s had another potion,” Lilith confided. Mitch noticed suddenly that Cooley was looking quite damp. The dog stood up and shook himself, launching a volley of water.

Or something. The wolfhound smelled even worse than he usually did when Mitch finally hosed him down. “What happened?”

Lilith laughed. “Cooley came visiting. But he got an unexpected bath.” Her explanation didn’t exactly make everything crystal clear, but Lilith started shoveling dirt back into a hole that Mitch only just noticed.

Cooley wedged himself into the darkest shadow beside the garage and put his nose on his paws, his gaze fixed expectantly on Mitch.

Nothing like a couple of points getting together to make a line. Mitch suddenly had a very good idea how that hole had come to be.

He dropped his bag and crossed the yard with long steps to Lilith’s side. “Let me do that,” he insisted, taking the spade from her. “And you can explain all this to me again.”

Lilith stepped back slightly - not enough to stop her perfume from making Mitch’s toes curl - and eyed him carefully. “You look tired,” she said softly.

Mitch offered her a rueful smile. “Comes with the territory of putting a story to bed. Some of them wrestle like cranky three-year olds.”

She smiled, then watched Mitch shovel. “Do you do this often?”

Mitch glanced up and shrugged. “It happens.” Lilith’s eyes were shadowed with concern and Mitch’s heart took a little leap at the sight. It had been a while since anyone worried about him - that was his job - but Mitch liked the feeling just fine. He smiled, but Lilith didn’t look particularly reassured.

Mitch knew only that he had to make her smile again. He adopted his best Foghorn Leghorn accent. “Fortunately, I keep my feathers numbered for just such an emergency.”

To his relief, Lilith chuckled. The sun shone down on them, the yard was filled with the lazy sounds of a summer afternoon, and Mitch didn’t want to go anywhere anytime soon. He realized that there was a tranquility to be found in Lilith’s presence, a respite from the world and all its woes.

And he liked that just fine.

“The good news is that I have more flexibility these days,” Mitch continued easily, enjoying the fact that he could discuss this with her. “I worked here the last couple of nights, after the kids were in bed. Thank God for laptops and modems.” He smiled. “And Andrea, my nearly-resident lifesaver.”

Lilith’s smile broadened. “You love it.”

Mitch grinned at her. “Yeah, I do,” he admitted. “As long as it doesn’t happen all the time.”

“I’ll bet you’re good at what you do,” she suggested with a confidence in that fact that made Mitch’s heart take off at a gallop. He stared at her, unable to remember when anyone other than his father had expressed such confidence in his abilities.

“You can judge for yourself in the morning,” he said, less lightly than he might have hoped. “First edition, front page. That’s my alibi for not cropping up over the last few days.”

And Lilith smiled. “I was concerned,” she confessed.

“Don’t be. I don’t take as many chances as I used to.” They smiled at each other for a long, sultry moment, then Mitch turned back to the task at hand.

He shoveled the last of the dirt into the hole, well aware of Lilith watching him. Mitch drove the spade into the ground, then rested his elbow on the handle to survey Lilith.

He wasn’t in a huge hurry to leave. “So, ’fess up,” he demanded with a smile. “What did happen here?”

Lilith turned to Cooley, who inched closer on his belly. The dog certainly didn’t seem to have the same animosity towards Lilith he had shown before.

Which was pretty weird, come to think of it. What had gotten into the wolfhound lately?

Fortunately, Lilith was prepared to explain.

“After Cooley drank too much of that love antidote last weekend, he disliked me.” Her voice was low and very easy to listen to. Mitch felt the last bit of tension ease out of his shoulders. “It wasn’t his fault that he growled, the potion was too strong. Apparently, he took it upon himself to continue the hunt this week.”

Before Mitch could ask, Lilith gestured to the hole.

“Fortunately, after some thinking, I came up with just the right potion.”

Mitch sensed the story was being edited heavily. He wondered what the dog had done when he reached the other side today and suspected he would never know.

“I dumped it on him and it worked like”- Lilith grinned and snapped her fingers –“magick.”

Despite his own skepticism, Mitch couldn’t stop his own smile. “Magic, eh?”

“Absolutely. Just watch.” Before Mitch could stop her, Lilith stretched out a hand and beckoned to the wolfhound. Cooley raced across the yard at this small encouragement, but there was no reason for Mitch to intervene.

The dog licked Lilith’s fingers and wagged his tail so hard that he could hardly keep his balance.

Mitch tried to keep his mouth from falling open.

She couldn’t be right. There was no such thing as magic, nothing remotely logical about potions. They were placebos, at best, the belief that they worked being responsible for any results.

Which left the question of how Lilith could convince a dog that a potion worked.

Mitch couldn’t reason that through, but knew it was only because he was tired. It was sleight of hand of some kind, Lilith’s belief in magic just a necessity to protect her cover story.

“Aren’t you glad?” Lilith asked.

“Oh, yeah.” Mitch reached down and scratched the dog’s ears. “Good to have you back to normal, ol’ boy.” Cooley nuzzled Mitch’s knee and thumped his tail against Mitch’s legs, his usual self in every way.

What was more important was how Mitch was going to raise the subject he really wanted to talk about.

“You seem distracted,” Lilith commented when Mitch didn’t say anything else. “Would you like to talk about it?”

It was the best opening he could have had. Mitch glanced to his watch, seeing that he didn’t have long to get to the daycare. He’d never get through this in five minutes!

“Well, it’s a long story,” he began, wondering whether they could meet after he got back.

But Lilith smiled outright. “And who has more time on their hands than an immortal, hmm?”

Mitch looked up in surprise. It was as though she had read his thoughts, but then it was hardly the first time he’d had that feeling with Lilith. Talk about cutting to the chase - Mitch decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“You’ve got to admit that’s a pretty uncommon claim,” he said carefully.

Lilith nodded. “True. The secret of immortal life is carefully guarded. Do you know what would happen if the elixir fell into the wrong hands?”

Mitch declined to pursue that line of wild speculation. “So, how did you find it?”

Lilith shook her head with a smile. “Not found. I earned the right to a sip, after seven years in the tutelage of a company of sorcerers.”

“This would be after you left the Gypsies?”

“Yes, I traveled west, as Dritta had counseled me.” Lilith frowned, apparently in recollection. “She had heard of these people and told me to seek them, that my Gift would help me find them.”

“Your gift of finding people’s true loves?”

“No, no, not that. That came later. My Gift is the ability to see the future.”

Mitch watched Cooley as he scratched the dog’s ears, not wanting any hint of his rampant skepticism to throw this discussion off track.

Wherever the hell it was going.

The trick was to just keep asking questions.

“Well, how did it change?” he asked as mildly as he could.

“When I sipped the elixir, that changed my Gift. Maybe it honed it. I don’t know, but from then on, it was focused and I could see destined loves right in people’s eyes.” Lilith shrugged and smiled. “Maybe it was because I had love in my mind when I drank.”

“Right.” Mitch couldn’t hold her trusting gaze. “So, being able to see the future helped you find these sorcerers?”

Lilith’s smile flashed unexpectedly. “At the time I thought it did, but maybe it was chance. Or maybe they found me.”

Mitch couldn’t help interjecting. “Maybe it was destiny?”

Lilith laughed merrily. “Maybe! I only know that I practically stumbled over them after I’d been alone for a year or so. They took me in, despite what they called the rawness of my skills, and began my apprenticeship.”

She heaved a sigh of satisfaction and frowned slightly as she sobered. Her voice turned thoughtful. “It was the most challenging and rewarding thing I have ever done.”

Mitch refused to think about military enlistment advertising campaigns. “How’s that?”

“It was hard!” Lilith stared blindly across the yard, a sure sign that she was thinking of something sensitive. Mitch dared to hope he was making progress. “There were times when I didn’t think I’d survive,” she admitted quietly.

Mitch’s heart tightened. She had been through a lot, that much was for certain. And he was going to put everything to rights, if it was the last damn thing he did.

Lilith lifted her hand to halt Mitch’s question before it came. “But don’t ask me for details, I was sworn to secrecy and can’t tell anything of what I witnessed among them or even of what I did.”

A pledge of confidence was a pretty convenient little trick, Mitch had to admit. No doubt it veiled some pretty painful memories - he’d leave uncovering that to the pros. “But you were there seven years?”

“Graduated with honors,” Lilith confirmed with a small smile.

And she should be proud of herself. Even if she had worked up a complicated story to protect herself, Lilith had survived - and in Mitch’s view that was worthy of honors.

But it was high time the mood lightened around here. “Magus cum laude?” Mitch teased, wanting to see that smile widen.

But Lilith sobered. “Mitch, it was a very solemn event. Many adepts don’t even survive the ceremony. The graduation and opening of the seventh seal is the final test. Only those who pass win a chance to sip the elixir of immortality.”

Okay, she had headed to weird again. Mitch frowned and tried to think of a diplomatic way to make his point.

He couldn’t, so he just laid it out. He managed to keep his tone thoughtful. “You would think that, over the centuries, there would end up being an awful lot of immortals in the world.”

Lilith glanced up quickly. “And you’re saying there aren’t?”

“You’re the first I’ve met.”

She smiled. “You obviously travel in the wrong circles.”

“Lilith!” This really wasn’t working out as Mitch had intended. Lilith was sticking to her story like contact cement – and he was running out of time. “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” she said easily. “But the fact is that the vast majority of those who win the right to a sip decline the opportunity.”

That unexpected comment gave Mitch pause. He eyed Lilith and his curiosity got the better of him. “Why would they do that?”

Lilith’s expression turned sad. “Because the wisdom they have already gained has shown them that immortality can be a very lonely business.”

“But you sipped?”

Her glance was bright. “I had no choice. I had only sought them out to win the chance for this sip. I had to have immortality – there was no other ay I could have waited for you.”

Mitch frowned in concentration as he tried to find a question that would bring the truth to light, the truth he knew was hiding behind this fable. He not only had to find a hole in Lilith’s logic, but show it to her to make her reconsider. “But if I was going to be reincarnating, why couldn’t you do the same?’

Lilith shook her head. “In retrospect, its’ clear that I could have. At the time, I thought we were just slightly out of synchronization. I didn’t imagine it would take so very long. And by the time I realized the truth, I had already taken that sip. It was too late.”

Mitch tried not to sound skeptical, he really did. “And you’ve been immortal ever since that sip?”

Lilith met his gaze with easy assurance. “Yes. The elixir takes the one who imbibes it out of the stream of time. I stand still – like a rock in a river – while everything swirls around and past me.”

She shrugged as though this made perfect sense – which Mitch might have found difficult to argue if Lilith hadn’t glanced back to Cooley’s hole.

Because when she did, a single hair nearly buried in the dark tangle of her hair winked in the sunlight.

A single silver hair.

Mitch’s heart leapt, but he tried to sound casual while he confirmed his suspicion. “So, I guess you don’t age, then?”

“Not since that moment. I’m eternally thirty-three years old.”

Mitch leaned on the shovel, trying to look nonchalant even when he sensed victory was nearly within his grasp. “Sounds like a vain woman’s dream. No wrinkles, no face-lifts.” He paused significantly. “No grey hairs.”

Lilith smiled sunnily. “No, never a one in over five hundred years.”

“Then what’s that?” Mitch pointed to what he had just spotted.

Lilith raised on hand to her hair and frowned. “What?”

“You can’t see it because of the angle, but you do have a grey hair.”

Her eyes flashed. “Impossible! I can’t!”

“You certainly do,” Mitch argued.

“I don’t believe it.”

“Then hold your breath and I’ll show it to you.” Mitch gently worked the offending hair free of the others around it, an easy task since it was of coarser texture than Lilith’s silky tresses, and gave it a tiny yank.

She yelped, then her eyes widened when he presented it to her. The hair shone in the sunlight, unmistakably white, even as her fingertips massaged its source.

Lilith didn’t seem to have anything to say; she just accepted the hair as though she couldn’t believe it was real.

There was a glimmer in her eyes that made Mitch think that she was reconsidering everything she had told him, that maybe a few dots were teaming up to make a line.

This had to be a revelation of a kind. He could almost sense a door opening in her mind. Lilith was one smart lady, after all. Maybe all she needed was a moment to herself.

“It’s not the end of the world,” Mitch teased gently. “Let’s hope three don’t grow in its place.

Lilith looked up at him silently. She turned the hair in her fingers and stared at it again. “I don’t understand,” she said softly. “It’s impossible.”

“Clearly, it’s not.” Mitch touched her cheek with a gentle fingertip. “We’re all getting older, Lilith,” he said. “I’ve pulled a few of those out myself.”

“No! I’m not supposed to age,” she insisted, her gaze fixed on the hair.

“Well, maybe something has changed,” Mitch whispered. She looked up in alarm at this sentiment and he smiled encouragingly. “It’s not so bad. You’ll see.”

Lilith opened her mouth and closed it again. She frowned at the hair, then shook her head. She seemed so lost that Mitch wanted to gather her up and make everything better, but this was a hurdle she had to jump herself. Clearly, Lilith had some things to work through – and if her trauma had been as bad as Mitch feared, he had probably already pushed far enough.

He bent, unable to stop the tenderness flooding through him, and kissed her brow. “It’s okay, Lilith. I’ll help you. You can come and talk about it any time, whenever you’re ready.” She met his gaze, her own expression so vulnerable that Mitch’s heart clenched. “Just say the word and I’ll brew up some sangria,” he promised, and was glad to see her fleeting smile.

“I just need to think,” she said quietly.

“I know. Just remember that I’m here.”

And then she really smiled, her eyes so warm that Mitch didn’t want to leave her side at all. “I know,” she said, stretching suddenly to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “And that’s the best news of all.”

She turned, hefted her spade, and strode back to her gate, that hair held before her like a trophy.

Admiration flooded through Mitch as he watched her go, admiration along with a certainty that Lilith would see her way through this. It wasn’t easy to open doors that had been securely locked for a long time, but Mitch knew that Lilith would manage it.

She was really something special.

 

* * *

 

Lilith couldn’t believe her own eyes. The silver hair waved in her grip as though it deliberately taunted her, as if its presence wasn’t bad enough.

How could it be here?

Lilith didn’t remember anything about the elixir wearing off over the years or any maintenance technicalities that she could have forgotten over the centuries. She put the hair down on her kitchen counter and stared at it.

This just wasn’t right.

But the hair was here. And it was grey. And her scalp still hurt from where Mitch had evicted it. No doubt about it, it was her own.

What was it doing here?

Lilith frowned, then went into the living room and looked at the cards. The Wheel of Fortune was face up now, right beside The Hermit. The first circle was complete, the first phase of Mitch’s journey finished.

The challenge of the physical world had been met, but the confrontation with the spiritual world had only just begun. The seeker on the card descended into the underworld, seeking wisdom and abandoning the illusion of controlling his fate. Great forces were in the wind when The Wheel of Fortune appeared, powerful changes over which one had no direct influence.

Lilith sat down and looked at the card. The Wheel of Fortune whispered of taking changes, of throwing the dice, of betting it all, win or lose, of dancing a jig with the capricious partner named Dame Fortune.

A chance had been taken, or was in the act of being taken, a chance that could have long-reaching repercussions. Lilith thought about her grey hair, she thought about Mitch, she thought about him coming back to her.

He was right. Something had changed.

In fact, everything that mattered had changed. Mitch had returned to her – her one true love was right by her side.

Lilith’s hand rose to her lips in delighted realization. She didn’t need to wait anymore. She didn’t need to be immortal anymore. In fact, life would be a whole lot easier is she and Mitch aged together, now that they had found each other again.

It looked as though her immortality was a thing of the past. And Lilith didn’t have too many complaints about that. If anything, the grey hair was just as sign that they were solidly on the road to Happily Ever After.

But why the grey hair now? Had it been merrily growing, unbeknownst to Lilith, since Mitch’s arrival?

Or was it new?

Lilith didn’t know. When she looked down at the cards again, the next one had flipped over. Lilith had been sitting right there, and she hadn’t seen it more.

Yet all the same, Fortitude, number eleven, was turned up.

The Ferris Wheel of Fortune had completed its turn.

 

* * *

 

11

Fortitude

 

Fortitude was called Strength in one of Lilith’s other decks, but the image upon it was essentially the same. Pictured on the card was a young woman in the act of prying open the jaws of a ferocious lion.

The card tells of conquering one’s own shadow, of coming to terms with the conflict within one’s own soul, of meeting a challenge with gentleness instead of brute force.

And reigning victorious, when the alternative might have been expected. The card indicates the power of inner strength, of conviction, of a fortitude born of belief in doing the right thing.

Mitch had an ample measure of that kind of fortitude, Lilith knew, and the realization made her smile.

She suddenly heard the children in the backyard and glanced up to find the shadows drawing long in the unlit house. Lilith didn’t know how long she had sat there, meditating on the card, but it didn’t matter.

Mitch would be where his children were, watching over them like a gruff guardian angel.

And Lilith knew exactly where she wanted to be.

 

* * *

 

Mitch sat on his back porch as the kids ran around the yard after dinner. He was perfectly content to let them burn off some steam before bed and was hoping that Lilith might make an appearance.

To his delight, she stepped out on her porch almost immediately. Mitch wondered whether Lilith could have been waiting for him and felt himself smile in welcome.

He liked how she smiled in response. The hinges creaked as Lilith let herself into the yard, Cooley trotted over to give her a sniff and collect a pat. The change in the dog’s manner was amazing, but there had to be a reasonable explanation.

There had to be.

“Lillit!” The kids immediately ran for Lilith, their eyes shining as they told her all the stories they’d saved up since the weekend. She squatted down and listened to every word, asking perfect questions, sharing her attention between the two.

Mitch’s smile returned as he watched. Jen and Jason really had taken to Lilith - and she seemed just as delighted to talk to them.

Jen’s newest finger painting had been hung on the fridge - and Lilith waved on her way past Mitch as she was dragged into the kitchen to admire their handiwork.

She did and Jen beamed with pride. Mitch had a feeling that Lilith would soon have a masterpiece for her own fridge door.

“Have you noticed,” Lilith asked the kids when they came back on the porch, “that the bats have been out these past few nights?”

Mitch was immediately beset by two children demanding approval to stay up late and watch for bats. He couldn’t see why not, so he agreed and laughed when the kids cheered. He and Lilith dragged lawn chairs out into the midst of the yard as the sun sank below the line of houses behind. Mitch shut off the kitchen and porch light, and they sat in the twilight, waiting for darkness to fall.

And when it did, the peculiar flying patterns of a trio of bats could be discerned against the night sky. Jason was entranced, Jen nodded off to sleep in Mitch’s lap. The bats circled, flying in a lop-sided figure eight over and over again, as they gobbled up mosquitoes. They called to each other, the sound barely discernible by human ears, and one that would be missed by anyone not paying close attention.

Mitch hadn’t known they could still be found in the city. Jason eventually ran out of questions and watched in wide-eyed silence. The rhythm of the bats’ flight was soothing, the occasional flutter of their wings like a whisper in the night. Mitch leaned back in his chair to watch them fly the same course over and over again, letting the evening’s quiet flood through him.

He hadn’t felt so relaxed in years. It was wonderful, just sitting in darkness and silence, watching the stars come out, holding his sleeping daughter. Yet at the same time, there was a tingle of electricity running beneath Mitch’s skin, a tingle fed by the occasional waft of jasmine, the glint of an alluring woman’s smile, the knowledge that Lilith was just an arm’s length away.

Tranquility, that’s what Lilith shared with him.

Not to mention, cats and toads and bats.

But then, she had said she was a witch, hadn’t she? Mitch grinned to himself, glancing over at Jason and noting that he had also succumbed to the sandman. He was dozing against Lilith’s shoulder, and she looked perfectly content to have him there.

Her gaze met Mitch’s and she smiled, a warm welcoming smile that made his toes curl. It was a smile that made Mitch think of all that old-fashioned stuff, all those things that he’d been sure would never come his way. Cooking together and sitting on the porch, laughing and making love for a lifetime.

All that good stuff.

He impulsively reached over and caught Lilith’s hand in his. When Mitch squeezed her fingers, she squeezed his back, then they both watched the bats fly until the moon rose.

The bats retired or sought their prey elsewhere - Mitch was sure they couldn’t have eaten every mosquito in his yard - and he stretched, shifting Jen’s weight.

“I should put these two to bed,” he said softly, then got to his feet. He glanced down at Jen’s dirty knees and grinned. “I guess there’s more than one way to get out of taking a bath.”

Lilith chuckled and sat forward a bit. “I think I’m trapped,” she whispered just as Jason stirred.

“Come on, sport,” Mitch cajoled and tousled his son’s hair. “Time for bed.”

But Jason snuggled against Lilith.

Mitch met her gaze, unable to stop his smile. “You are trapped.”

“We could switch.”

“You don’t think Jen’s too heavy for you?”

Lilith shook her head. “I can manage.”

They did switch, Lilith following Mitch into the house and up the stairs, both of them carrying sleepy little burdens. Having Lilith’s presence behind him felt perfectly natural. It made Mitch feel less alone, less responsible for every little thing, less burdened by the weight of the world. They were only putting his children to bed, but he had a tantalizing taste of being on a team.

He watched Lilith carry Jen and noted the protectiveness in the way she held his daughter, a gentleness in her fingertips and her voice when she laid the little girl on her bed. Mitch was humbled that Lilith could show such easy affection for children that were not even her own, children she didn’t even know that well.

He could never imagine Janice this way.

Because Janice had never been as giving as Lilith.

The words resonated with truth. Mitch frowned in thought as he tucked the children into their pajamas and then into their beds. He had always been sure that the fault in his failed marriage was his, that he had brought something out in Janice that otherwise would never have found voice, that his failure to love her enough or understand her intuitively or something he had done had been at the root of her lack of interest in their children.

Now, he wondered whether Lilith was right in her insistence that it wasn’t all his fault.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad at relationships, after all.

Mitch met Lilith at the top of the stairs, and was snared by the flash of her smile. He paused beside her and stared into the shadows of her eyes.

He thought about kissing her and her smile quirked.

When Lilith reached out and touched his jaw, it was as though she read Mitch’s thoughts. Or that their thoughts were as one. Either way, the tingle beneath his skin became a roar and he edged closer, unwilling to leave any distance between them.

“You were right, you know,” Lilith whispered, her voice low and musical. She stepped closer, her breasts almost touching his chest, and the heat in the hall escalated.

Mitch let his hands fall on Lilith’s waist, his fingers gripped her slenderness. He drew her minutely closer. “About what?”

“Something did change,” Lilith admitted. Her eyes shone. “I’m not immortal and it’s all because you’re here.”

Relief surged through Mitch, mingled with pride that Lilith was making such good progress in coming to terms with whatever demons haunted her. She had only to stretch toward him before he bent and met her halfway, his mouth closing over hers resolutely. He didn’t care if she knew how much he wanted her, he didn’t care if she guessed how he was feeling. This time he backed Lilith into the wall, loving how she responded to his touch.

There was no hesitation in her ardor, no strings on her passion, no negotiations necessary to win a single kiss. Mitch realized suddenly how Janice had cheated him with her constant complaints, her raw dislike of any show of affection.

He wondered suddenly whether she had even loved him.

Lilith insisted she did love him and gave of herself openly. Lilith never turned away, Lilith never snarled, Lilith gave and gave and gave.

And Mitch liked that very much. He knew that whatever this was between himself and Lilith was just the beginning of something very good, something that would improve with time, like fine wine.

But no sooner had Mitch lifted his lips from hers, than Lilith hauled the rug out from beneath him and challenged his conclusions once again.

He ought to be getting used to that by now, but he wasn’t.

Not by a long shot.

 

* * *

 

“Maybe you were sorceror in one of your past lives,” Lilith mused as she stared up at Mitch. Her heart was hammering in the wake of his kiss, but she was fighting her urge to drag him off and ravish him.

She had agreed to his terms, after all.

“What do you mean?”

Lilith slid her hands up the strength of Mitch’s neck and let her fingers wind their way into his hair. “We certainly do make powerful magick between us,” she teased. “It’s worth sacrificing immortality, there’s no doubt about it.”

Mitch froze. “Sacrificing? I thought you had realized you were mortal?”

“I am now.”

His gaze flickered, but otherwise Mitch was as still as a statue. His voice was very low. “Maybe you could run through that a little more slowly for me.”

“I was immortal, for five hundred and” - Lilith did some quick math – “sixty-seven years, I guess it would be.”

She smiled because Mitch looked suddenly so very grim. “But that’s all right, because once my love was back by my side” - she stretched and gave him a quick kiss so he wouldn’t have any confusion over who that individual was – “the elixir apparently wore off.”

“Just like that?” Mitch asked dryly. He pulled back slightly and gave her a skeptical glance.

“Magick!” Lilith declared and chuckled under her breath. “Honestly, I couldn’t have planned it better myself. The great forces have given us the greatest gift of all.”

Mitch looked somewhat less than convinced. But then, this was news to him while Lilith had been thinking it through for a few hours. He’d see it her way in a minute, Lilith knew. She linked her arm companionably through his and urged him toward the stairs.

“Just think about it, Mitch. It wouldn’t be right if you aged and I didn’t, and it would be very strange if neither of us aged at all. I can’t even imagine how confusing it would be for Jen and Jason. And then, I would ultimately be left alone again, which could hardly be part of any divine plan.” Lilith shook her head. “No, this is absolutely perfect.”

Mitch looked a bit dazed.

Maybe he was tired. Yes, he must be exhausted after pulling that story together.

Maybe Lilith should make the sangria.

They were halfway down the stairs when a sudden thought came to Lilith. “Oh!” She spun and locked her arms around Mitch’s neck, treating him to a big kiss. “Mitch, maybe I could even have children now!”

Exasperation flitted across Mitch’s brow. “Lilith, those kinds of things don’t just change because people meet each other...”

“Don’t be silly, of course they do. I couldn’t have children because my cycles stopped when I drank the elixir. But if I’m mortal, they’ll start again!” Lilith nearly danced down the remaining steps, knowing she had never been so enthused about receiving her monthly visitor in the past. “And all those hormones will get back to work! Ha! We will be able to have kids!”

She spun at the bottom of the stairs triumphantly and looked back at Mitch.

He remained on the third stair. He had his arms folded across his chest and looked markedly less delighted than Lilith about this news.

Oh no. Lilith sobered. “You don’t want more kids?” she asked quietly, hearing the disappointment in her tone. “I guess it doesn’t really matter, and you do have two little darlings already...”

“Lilith!” Mitch swore with soft eloquence, shoved a hand through his hair and marched down the stairs. He caught Lilith’s elbow in his hand and led determinedly to the back porch. “We have to talk,” he said grimly.

Lilith bit her lip, unable to contain her disappointment. “I suppose that if you feel strongly about it...”

“Lilith!” Mitch spun her to face him when they reached the back porch and caught her shoulders in her hands. “I love kids. I could have twenty of them, as long as I could figure out how to feed them and send them to university. That’s not the problem.”

Hope fluttered in Lilith’s heart. She felt her smile dawn anew. “Really?”

“Really.” Mitch visibly gritted his teeth, then looked her dead in the eye. “But we are getting a bit ahead of things here.”

Lilith folded her arms across her chest and stared up at him, not liking the sound of this at all. “I can’t imagine what you mean. You’re my true love, I’m yours - if nothing else, the loss of my immortality proves that we’re destined to be together...”

Before she could continue, Mitch interrupted.

“Stop! Let’s just linger there for just a moment. Think for a minute about what you call the loss of your immortality.”

Mitch was so serious that Lilith did what he said. “Are you worried that I’ve not really become mortal?” she asked carefully.

Mitch’s lips thinned. “Hardly that.” He paused and looked into her eyes, his hesitation in choosing his words making Lilith brace herself for whatever he was going to say. “Lilith, were you ever really immortal at all?”

Lilith chuckled, she couldn’t help it. He was so solemn - and his question was so ludicrous. “Of course I was! How else would I survive the better part of six centuries?” She shook her head at him. “People don’t live that long, Mitch.”

If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he ground his teeth. “But Lilith, how could it just change? How could it just go away?” Mitch flung out his hands.” How could this elixir keep you from aging for so long, then just stop working? How could it be cognizant of changes in your life? There’s not a bit of it that makes sense.”

Lilith smiled easily. “Magick makes perfect sense on its own terms.”

“Magic?” Mitch flung out his hands and paced the width of the porch. He rubbed his brow, muttered something about ‘making progress’, then came back to face her again. His lips were drawn to a thin line, his eyes were devoid of a twinkle. “Lilith, it’s time we got to the bottom of this. You have to know that there is no such thing as magic, that potions don’t work, that no one can see the future.”

Lilith blinked. Then she laughed. “I don’t know any such thing!”

But Mitch didn’t smile. He watched her and a sadness dawned in his eyes.

Lilith sobered as cold dread slithered down her spine. She took a step closer to not miss any change in Mitch’s eyes. “You’re not serious?”

Mitch held her gaze unflinchingly. “That was my question.”

Lilith gasped, the conviction in his golden eyes doing nothing to reassure her. Thank goodness she was still there in the shadows of his eyes!

But was her image getting smaller? Fainter?

How could Mitch not believe in magick? Lilith had to persuade him! “Of course there’s such a thing as magick! The world is full of magick, everywhere you turn you catch another glimpse of the great forces at work.”

Mitch looked decidedly unconvinced.

“What about Kurt?” Lilith demanded. “What about Those Men? What about Cooley?”

Mitch just shook his head. “There has to be another explanation. Potions and spells don’t work, Lilith. There are no love spells, no antidote, no great forces of magic at work. It’s just the world, just life. It’s just the way things are.”

Lilith knew she looked skeptical now. “You aren’t going to try and tell me that life isn’t magickal, in and of itself?”

“Science -“

“Phooey on science!” Lilith interrupted sharply. “There isn’t a scientist alive who can satisfactorily explain why those bean plants came out of those seeds.” She pointed to the plants that had unfurled from the beans she and Jason had planted just a week before. “Or what makes a baby’s heart start to pound, or why a child is formed of sperm and ovum some of the time and not others. Can you explain Jen and Jason with mathematics and theorems?”

“I can’t,” Mitch admitted uneasily. “But I’m sure that someone could.”

“No one can,” Lilith replied with heartfelt urgency. “Because there’s something there beyond the cell division and the genetics, something that no one can put their finger right on. The whole reason why is beyond our comprehension. The impetus in the first place is unexplained, never mind the caprice of the same factors not always leading to the same result. It’s magick, Mitch, it’s magick as old as all the earth, which has a special kind of magick all its own.”

“Lilith, the earth is just a great big rock...”

“No. The earth is magick, right to its bones. There’s magick in the air and in the ground and in the sea. No one can tell me why my roses grow bigger and redder when I talk to them, or how all of a plant - or even its blueprint - fits into a single tiny seed. No one can fully explain how the birds know when to go south or how they find their way to somewhere they’ve never been, or how my perennials know when it’s really spring and not just a false start. It’s magick, a magick that the creatures all around us understand and that we willingly deny.”

Lilith waited, she hoped desperately that her argument was going to make some impact. She just couldn’t imagine living with and loving a man who didn’t believe in magick.

Especially after all they’d been through together. How could Mitch deny what had finally brought them back together again?

But, much to Lilith’s disappointment, deny it he did.

“Well, I don’t believe in magic,” Mitch declared with the definitive air of a man who has closed an argument, for once and for all.

Lilith, however, was not prepared to let this go so easily.

It was too important.

“Really?” She leaned closer and poked a finger into his chest. “Then how did I know you, and how did you know me? How did you end up living right beside me?”

“Lilith, we’ve been through all that...”

“Clearly not, if you don’t understand. This is magick, Mitch. There is something special between us that no scientific theory can explain.” She let her voice drop low and knew by the quick flick of Mitch’s gaze that she had his attention. “Ask your scientists why my heart skips a beat when I see you.”

Mitch glanced up suddenly at this admission and Lilith smiled right into his eyes. “It’s not some textbook biological mating urge, because it doesn’t happen when I see anyone else. It doesn’t happen whenever a handsome healthy man crosses my path. Just you. It’s magick, a magick that only applies to you and I.”

Lilith framed Mitch’s face in her hands and felt his conviction waver ever so slightly. He caught his breath as she moved closer. The velvet of the night seemed to slip through the windows of the unlit kitchen and press in on them from all sides. Lilith only knew she had to persuade him of this one simple truth.

“Do you feel that tingle?” Lilith whispered and when Mitch looked into her eyes, she knew he had. There was a fire in his gaze fueled by the very magick they made between them.

Lilith lifted Mitch’s fingertips to the flutter of her pulse at her throat. “What about that?” She brushed her own fingertips across Mitch’s chest and pressed her fingers against the thump of his own increased heartbeat.

“That’s not chemistry,” she insisted softly, “it’s magick. Our magick. It’s recognition - despite an incredible difference of time and place, despite the odds, despite even the difference of the skin you’re in. How can you imagine that it’s anything else?”

Mitch stared down at Lilith as though he couldn’t look away. She smiled up at him and eased to her toes, liking how his eyes flashed and his arms slid around her.

He whispered her name, then bent and kissed her with an ardor that made Lilith’s heart sing. He might not be persuaded completely, but she was definitely making progress.

 

* * *

 

When Mitch lifted his head tantalizingly long moments later, his pulse was thundering in his ears. Lilith caught her breath and smiled just for him. “Magick,” she whispered with delight, then ran a fingertip across his lips.

Her sure touch made him shiver, but Mitch stubbornly attributed that to simple physiology. All the same, it was clear he wasn’t going to make much headway against Lilith’s convictions, at least not tonight.

Maybe this was just another step in working towards an acceptance of what had really happened to her in the past. Mitch took a deep breath, looked into Lilith’s glowing eyes, and decided it was worth letting the lady chart her own course. He supposed that someone who made a business of telling fortunes would need to have at least a cursory faith in magic.

Mitch conceded that he had finally met someone who not only refused to follow his rules, but did so enchantingly that he was more than happy to let her do so.

That made Mitch smile.

In fact, predictability was starting to lose its allure in this woman’s presence. It was time to go with the flow a bit. Mitch took a deep breath and deliberately changed the subject.

“So, what have you been up to this week?” he asked mildly. He caught Lilith’s hand in his and led her to sit on the top step of the porch. Her shoulder bumped against his in a way that made him think of that kiss they had just shared and consider the merits of sharing another. “Make any more lovematches?”

Lilith shrugged and looked across the yard. “Oh, nothing particularly worthy of note,” she said, but there was an undercurrent to her tone.

Mitch really liked that Lilith was as lousy of a liar as he was.

“Doesn’t sound like it,” he suggested.

Lilith smiled and shook her head. “It’s not important.”

But Mitch knew it was. He reached out and touched her chin, turning her to face him. In the light falling from the kitchen, he saw the shadow that had set up camp in Lilith’s eyes.

Something was bothering her. Mitch had a sudden fear that his earlier comments hadn’t been so readily absorbed as he had hoped. Dread rose in his chest and threatened to choke him. Had he pushed Lilith too far, too fast?

His voice sharpened. “What’s wrong?”

Lilith started to shrug, but Mitch wanted to know the worst of whatever he had done.

“Tell me.” He smiled encouragement and winked for her. “You can trust me, can’t you?”

To Mitch’s relief, Lilith smiled in turn. She even leaned her head against his shoulder. Mitch slipped his arm around her waist, liking the warm press of her curves against his side.

“A young man came to see me on Monday,” Lilith admitted quietly. “He was Rom.”

Mitch glanced down at her. “Gypsy?”

Lilith nodded but didn’t continue. Mitch’s imagination conjured up all sorts of possibilities as to why this would trouble Lilith, very few of which he liked.

“Did he bother you?”

She half-laughed. “Yes, but not in the way you mean.” Lilith straightened and tossed back her hair, flicking a hesitant glance upward to Mitch. “He wanted me to visit his grandmother.”

Mitch didn’t understand the connection. “Why?”

“She won’t speak English any more. She’s in the hospital.” Lilith frowned and Mitch knew she hadn’t been unaffected by the young man’s visit. “I think she’s dying,” she added quietly.

“What did he expect you to do?” Mitch wondered whether the visitor had expected some kind of mumbo jumbo healing ceremony with Lilith at the center of it all.

And Lilith taking the blame when magic didn’t deliver the cure.

Well, Mitch wasn’t going to let that happen. His protectiveness was just gearing up when Lilith’s next words killed the engine.

“He wanted me to talk to her,” she admitted softly. “In Rom. Translate, I guess.”

That sounded pretty harmless. In fact, Mitch couldn’t immediately discern what the trouble was. “What did you say?”

“I said no.”

“You didn’t want to get involved?”

“No.” Lilith’s lips set. “I am not Rom anymore.” Her fingers were tightly knotted together, a sure sign that this wasn’t an easy choice for her to make.

Mitch sensed that there was something important behind this assertion. Could Lilith be discarding select parts of her “cover story”? He reached out and ran one fingertip over her knuckles, wanting to help but not push. “Do you speak Rom?”

Lilith’s answer didn’t come immediately.

Mitch simply waited.

“I used to,” she finally said.

“Then, what’s the harm in talking to her?”

Lilith’s gaze swiveled and locked with his. “I am still mahrime. She won’t talk to me.”

Mitch had forgotten that part of the story. “Did you tell him that?”

“No. He wouldn’t have understood.”

Mitch studied Lilith’s profile silently for a long moment. He knew the sound of fear when he heard it - and he also recognized something that might help Lilith deal with her past all by herself. It was so tantalizingly close - she could reach for this solution and Mitch would be right behind her.

“I have to admit,” he said quietly, “that doesn’t sound like you.”

That got Lilith’s attention. “What do you mean?”

“Do whatsoever you will but harm none,” Mitch quoted quietly. “Don’t you think your denial is hurting this woman? And what about her grandson?”

Lilith’s eyes filled with sudden tears, but she didn’t speak.

“I’ve never seen you turn away from anyone or anything, Lilith,” Mitch added softly. “Although we haven’t known each other long, I can see that you always give. Why not this time?”

But if Mitch was expecting his question to make a crack in the veneer of her elaborate story, he was destined to be disappointed.

Lilith’s hands unclenched, she reached and caught at Mitch’s hand. “I’m afraid she’ll reject me.” Lilith took a shaking breath, surprising Mitch with this display of vulnerability. His protectiveness roared. “The way they did before. It was awful to see their eyes...”

Mitch squeezed her fingertips and halted that painful story before she could get too far into it. “But what if she doesn’t?” he dared to suggest. “What if she needs you just as much as you need her?”

Lilith turned and stared into Mitch’s eyes. He didn’t break her regard, and he didn’t know what she saw, but after a few moments, she bowed her head.

She sighed. “I just don’t know what to do.”

But Mitch had a very distinct sense that this was important, that this was something Lilith needed to do. “Do you want me to go with you?”

That offer made her smile, her hand rise to Mitch’s cheek. Lilith’s thumb slid over his lip, her eyes shone slightly. “You’d do it, wouldn’t you?” There was a thread of wonder in her voice that reminded Mitch of how self-reliant she’d had to become.

He smiled for her. “You bet.”

That made Lilith ease closer. She brushed her lips across Mitch’s so slowly that he felt a thrill run all the way down to his toes. “I think you know what it means to be a giving person,” she murmured, her gaze roving over his features, “because you’re a very giving man yourself.”

Before Mitch could answer that, Lilith framed his face in her hands and kissed him deeply. He caught her against him, savoring the sweetness of her kiss, the delicacy of her waist beneath his hand.

Finally, Lilith pulled away, depositing a feather light kiss on each corner of his mouth as though she couldn’t resist him. “I’ll think about it.”

Admiration flooded through Mitch that Lilith was working so steadily toward unraveling her past by herself. He was fiercely glad that he had been able to help her, even in such a small way.

“You look exhausted,” she said softly, and Mitch had to nod concession.

“Two all-nighters have a way of getting to you.” He yawned, then looked into her eyes. “You all right?”

“Fine.” Lilith rose and strolled to the gate, waving her fingertips at him from her porch. “I think I could get used to having a champion around,” she mused, then smiled.

Mitch smiled. “There’s no rest for the wicked,” he complained amiably. “See you tomorrow night?”

Much to Mitch’s disappointment, Lilith shook her head. “I have readings booked every evening, but surely we’ll see each other on the weekend.”

“Kurt and I will probably end up waking you up.”

“But the fence is done.”

“This weekend, we’re going to patch the roof.”

“Is Andrea going to watch the children?”

Mitch grimaced. “I haven’t asked her yet. After calling her at the last minute this week, I thought I’d give it a few days.”

Lilith folded her arms across her chest, her gaze intent. “Let me watch them Saturday, Mitch. Andrea will be getting ready for her trip and we can have a little trial run while you’re still around.”

“That’s a great idea, although I’m sure Andrea will turn up at some point. Don’t let us wake you up too early.”

Lilith smiled, then tilted her head abruptly, as though she was listening to something. Mitch listened, but couldn’t hear anything at all. “I’ll be up early on Saturday,” she declared softly, her certainty catching Mitch’s attention.

“You sound pretty sure of that.” Mitch leaned against the pillar on his porch. Lilith’s last luscious kiss was going to keep him from sleeping anytime soon, he knew that.

“There’s something in the wind,” she whispered mysteriously. “Something almost as special as finding you again.”

Before Mitch could ask, Lilith kissed her fingertips, then disappeared into her house.

He supposed he’d have to wait to find out what she meant.

He wasn’t surprised that that didn’t trouble him at all.

In fact, Mitch was grinning as he headed into the house, did his final check, and climbed the stairs to bed. Anticipation wasn’t a bad thing.

Not at all.

 

* * *

 

It was very early on Saturday morning when Mitch thought he heard Jen stir. He rolled out of bed and crept into her room in the darkness, only to find her grimacing in her sleep. He knelt down beside her and tucked Bun safely back into the bed.

Mitch wondered what she was fretting about in her dreams. Jen frowned as though the weight of the world was on her tiny shoulders, fidgeted and gripped Bun’s well-worn ear tightly.

He hoped his unsettled week hadn’t unsettled his daughter. Mitch knew well enough that kids had radar for these kinds of things and Jen was even more sensitive than most.

He brushed those blond curls back from her forehead, and murmured soothing nonsense to her. Slowly the rhythm of his touch seemed to ease Jen’s anxiety. Her frown faded, her breathing deepened, and Bun’s ear got a break.

Mitch squatted there and watched her sleep, his mind full of memories. He could still see the hospital waiting room where Janice had insisted he remain during the delivery. He could still see the cheerful smile of the nurse who had opened the door when he’d thought he couldn’t stand waiting any longer and beckoned to him.

And he could still see Jen’s tiny red face as the nurse passed his child into his arms for the first time. Jen’s eyes had been squeezed tightly shut, baby hair dark and damp against her brow. Her tiny hands had been clenched into fists and she had looked even more like a little old man than Jason had.

She had been so small, so light, so precious. The nurse had taken him to Janice’s room and left him there, marveling at the bundle of flannelette, while Janice slept. Mitch had sat there all night, transfixed by the way his daughter slept, amazed that she even existed.

Holding his second newly arrived child had been no less of a marvel for Mitch.

The first light began to ease beneath the shade in Jen’s room, just as it had that morning over three years before. It had awakened Janice that long-ago morning, and Mitch deliberately stopped the replay of his memories without going any further down that particular path. He didn’t want to review Janice’s demands and accusations. He didn’t want to relive that fight.

Mitch straightened and winced at the kink in his legs, glancing out the window before heading back to his own bed.

But what he saw made him stop and stare.

Despite the earliness of the hour, Lilith sat in her garden, so perfectly motionless that she could have been a statue. She was sitting on a little stool, her hand outstretched. She was wearing a dress in shades of gold, colors he had never seen on her before, and her dark hair hung past her waist, its length wound with matching ribbons.

The morning was still – there wasn’t even a breath of wind – but Lilith’s dress fluttered ever so slightly all the same. Mitch watched surreptitiously as the sun rose in the front of their houses, the shadows of the buildings stretching long across their yards.

And still she sat there.

A band of sunlight painted the fence along the common driveway in rosy hues, then moved closer to the houses in a slow progression. Lilith didn’t move. Mitch watched the sunlight touch each sunflower along her far fence in succession; he watched each blossom in Lilith’s garden be touched by the golden finger of the sun’s light.

The garden slipped out of shadow, crossing the line from night to morning, each plant in succession, each moment changing the view. Lilith’s dress moved a little more, although there was something odd about its flutter.

When the sunlight finally fell across Lilith, Mitch abruptly realized what the oddity was. Her dress moved in sudden agitation beneath the heat of the sun. It fluttered and flowed, its color changing to vivid hues of orange and black.

And when the monarch butterflies – for that was what they were – absorbed enough of the sun’s caress, they stopped stretching and quivering.

As one, they took flight in the early morning light.

Mitch had never seen anything like it. In a heartbeat, the air was filled with a cloud of sunlight and shadow, thousands of delicate butterflies simultaneously taking wing. The sunlight glinted over the golden glory of their wings and the air filled with the faint rustle of their flight.

They rose from Lilith’s garden in a swirling spiral, not so different from a migratory flock of birds. They danced higher and higher, their ranks swelled by even more butterflies hidden on the fence and in the trees, their presence unnoticed by Mitch until they took flight.

He stared in wonder until they began to disappear high up in the pal blue of the sky, then he looked back down at Lilith. She blew gently on one last monarch that lingered on her fingertips. The butterfly flapped, dipped, then chased its fellows as the sun illuminated Lilith’s delighted smile.

She was wearing a sheer white sleeveless nightgown, its hem ruffled around her knees. Although it was not a magnificent gown wrought of golden butterflies, it was as feminine as the lady herself. Lilith’s feet were bare and her hair was unbound, those “ribbons” having flown away. She stood, unaware of Mitch’s presence, and waved farewell to the migrating butterflies.

They must stop here every year. Mitch knew monarchs migrated from Canada to Mexico and back every year, but he had never seen a butterfly flock take to the skies. He supposed he had never rolled out of bed early enough on the right August morning.

Mitch thought about Lilith’s comments about magic. He thought about butterflies making their way over thousands of miles to a particular haven in Mexico, without ever having done it before.

He thought about a woman who could hear them coming, in the whisper of the wind.

And as he watched the last butterfly disappear into the endless blue of a summer sky, Mitch Davison wondered whether there really could be such a thing as magic, after all.

 

* * *

 

12

The Hanged Man

 

Kurt whistled as he flicked curled shingles free on Mitch’s roof. It was a warm morning, sunny and clear, but not hot enough yet to make a guy regret getting up on a black roof without a tree in sight. Mitch was making short work of replacing the flashing on the chimney, and actually there weren’t that many bad shingles.

A couple of hours’ work and Mitch could get another year or two without redoing the whole roof.

Kurt slanted a glance at his buddy and tried to think of a good way to bring up the suggestion that was kicking around in his mind. It was about time Mitch admitted that he was still alive, to Kurt’s way of thinking. A man couldn’t baby sit and deny his basic urges forever.

It wasn’t natural.

And there were dangerous signs that Mitch was reaching the end of his tether. The August 1976 issue of National Geographic had been on the kitchen table when Kurt arrived this morning, left open to an article on butterflies. Butterflies! That had to be a sign of desperation.

Kurt would think that a guy who wasn’t getting any would choose a more provocative kind of reading material.

One that he wouldn’t leave lying around in the kitchen. But Kurt had peeked and hadn’t found a single interesting thing.

He hoped it wasn’t too late.

“Hey, Mitch,” Kurt said as casually as he could manage. “You should see this chick I’m taking out tonight.”

Mitch made a noncommittal sound in his throat and frowned at the last end of the flashing. “Uh huh.”

“Vivienne,” Kurt continued with enthusiasm. “What a knock-out. French,” he declared with a significant glance to his clearly uninterested friend.

Things were much worse than Kurt had suspected, because Mitch showed no appreciation of this information.

He cleared his throat. “Major curves in all the right places. You know, those how those French women are. Dark hair and red lipstick, black lacy lingerie. Oh là là.”

Mitch finished replacing the flashing on the chimney and sat back on his heels. He glanced over to the next roof and frowned. “Can you see what kind of shape Lilith’s flashing is in from there?”

Kurt blinked. “Mitch, I’m talking about one hot woman here.”

His friend shrugged. “And I’m talking about flashing.”

Kurt frowned, and barely glanced at the neighbor’s house. “What? You don’t have enough to do around this place, without looking for extra work? It’s not a sin to have some fun, you know.”

“When were you last in church?” Mitch demanded with a grin. “Last time I looked, your kind of fun was a sin.”

“Technicalities.” Kurt waved off this argument. “You want me to see if Vivienne has a friend or not? We could make a foursome tonight. Andrea’s coming, after all.”

“Nope.” There wasn’t a flicker of interest in Mitch’s expression or his tone. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Mitch! You’re divorced, not dead, you know!”

Mitch grinned. “Yeah, I know. It’s okay - everything still works. Now, look at that roof.”

Kurt grumbled under his breath and looked. “Looks about as good as yours did half an hour ago.”

Mitch eased his way across the steeply pitched roof to Kurt’s side, shaded his eyes with his hand and peered across the gap between the houses. “I think it needs to be replaced, too. And there’s some extra flashing. We might as well fix it while we’re up here.”

“Watch out,” Kurt said grumpily, not liking how quickly a plan he had seen as brilliant had been shot down. He pried another rotten shingle loose. “This could turn into a regular charity drive.”

Mitch rolled his eyes and squatted down beside Kurt. “Hey, it’ll take five minutes, it’s probably not something she’d get around to doing herself. And besides, she’s watching my kids.”

Kurt’s head snapped up and his eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. Isn’t that the fortune-teller’s house?”

“Uh huh.”

Kurt squinted at his buddy. “You leave the kids with her?”

“Well, next weekend. I don’t have a lot of choice.” Mitch looked supremely unconcerned about all of this, which Kurt thought was pretty odd. He knew how protective Mitch was of those kids and he thought Mitch didn’t trust that babe. “I’m off to that conference next weekend and Andrea leaves for a cruise tomorrow.”

“Why is she going away? Usually Andrea watches the kids.”

“Something came up.”

Kurt frowned. “Andrea doesn’t usually do stuff like that.”

But Mitch waved off the question. “It’s a long story, but the good news is that the kids really like Lilith.”

Kurt considered his friend for a moment. Slowly, he realized there could be something else causing Mitch’s disinterest in the possibility of Vivienne having a friend. “Yeah, and what about you?”

Mitch just smiled and headed for the ladder. “You coming down now? Or do you mind if I move the ladder over for a few minutes?”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute.” Kurt quickly followed his friend, not in the least bit sure he liked the sound of this. “You’re the one who warned me against her. You’re the one who said she was a witch!”

But Mitch’s grin just widened. “Sure, doc, I know, but aren’t they all witches inside?” He wiggled his eyebrows and Kurt smiled despite himself, remembering the Bugs Bunny cartoon in question.

Then he sobered again. “But Mitch, you don’t know what you’re doing. There’s something weird about your neighbor.”

“Like what?” Mitch smiled crookedly. “She turned you down?”

“Well, that too.” There wasn’t anything funny about that. Kurt shoved a hand through his hair and flicked a glance to the woman’s house. He dropped his voice. “But there’s something about her eyes, the way they look right through you.” He shivered despite the heat of the sun. “It’s like she can see what you’re thinking.”

Mitch arched one brow. “Kurt, any woman with a brain can see what you’re thinking.”

“No, no, this is different. She’s different.”

Mitch smiled slowly. “I know. That’s what I like about her.” And he turned to descend the ladder.

“Mitch! Come out tonight with me and Vivienne.” Kurt leaned over the edge of the roof as Mitch descended. “You’ll have a great time, maybe get lucky, you never know.”

He heard Mitch chuckle before he saw his smile. “Don’t worry so much about it, Kurt. I’ve got all the luck I need right here.”

 

* * *

 

Lilith was watching a pair of tanned and busy children splash in the pink pool on Saturday afternoon when Andrea popped out through the kitchen door.

There was a chorus of joyous greetings for Nana - who just happened to have picked up some licorice twisters in the course of her shopping - before the children dashed back to the pool. Andrea dropped down beside Lilith with a sigh of satisfaction, and poured herself a glass of pink lemonade.

“Mitch is on the roof,” Lilith supplied.

Andrea rolled her eyes. “Honestly, he never stops.”

Lilith smiled at the affection in the older woman’s tone. “Are you all ready for your trip?”

Andrea smiled in turn. “Oh yes. Ten o’clock tomorrow morning. I can hardly wait.” She turned suddenly and looked steadily at Lilith. “I have to thank you, Lilith, both for reading my fortune and for agreeing to watch the children.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Lilith confessed.

“I know.” Andrea sipped her drink and wiped the faint sheen of perspiration from her brow. “But Mitch trusts you, too. That’s not a small thing after what he’s been through.” She put the glass down and turned it in the wet circle it made on the wood, her tone suspiciously idle. “I don’t suppose he’s told you much about it?”

Lilith’s attention was instantly snared. “Just that Janice left when Jen was a baby.”

Andrea shook her head. “And that’s not half of it.” She looked at Lilith again. “Am I wrong, or is this something you’d like to know?”

“I don’t want to pry,” Lilith said carefully.

Andrea grinned. “But you’re itching to know - and you know as well as I do that getting the story out of Mitch will be like pulling teeth.”

Lilith couldn’t completely stop her smile. “He is a bit reticent.”

“Gun-shy,” Andrea affirmed, taking another long sip of lemonade. “And rightly so. But even if he won’t talk about it, I will.” She patted Lilith’s hand. “You see, Lilith, I think this may help you understand him a bit better. I may not have your gift for seeing lovematches, but I still have eyes in my head. And you’re the first woman that Mitch has taken notice of in a long time. That can’t be insignificant.”

Lilith smiled, hugging the details to herself. It was true love, no doubt about it.

Andrea took a deep breath. “Now I have to admit that I never liked Janice. Not from the first moment I met her. There was something calculating about that girl, something that got my back up. And I don’t care for vanity, frankly. But no one else saw it, and since I was new to the family, I kept my mouth shut.”

“New to the family?”

“Well, Mitch is my stepson. I don’t have any children of my own. Mitch’s father, Nate, was my third husband and oh, what a man he was! But I’m getting out of order here. You see, first there was Bernard, a wonderful man. He was so trim and athletic, so clever and handsome. I moved to Toronto from Montreal to marry him. We were very happy, but he died quite young. A skiing accident, which was fairly rare in those days.”

“I’m sorry, Andrea.”

The older woman smiled. “So was I. We had such good fun.” She shook her head. “It took me a long time to get out in the world again. By the time I met Walter, it was too late for me to have children. And Walter, well, he was so elegant, it was hard to imagine that he could have fit children into his life anyway.” Andrea shrugged. “Walter was a lawyer, and we knew Nate and Eliza as vague social acquaintances. We’d pass at parties and so forth. Pleasant people, I was always struck by how much in love they obviously were.”

“It was about a year after Walter died when I heard through the grapevine that Eliza had died suddenly of an aneurism. It was disappointing news - they were such a happy couple that I had a hard time imagining Nate on his own, even though I didn’t know him that well. They were always so inseparable, you know?”

Lilith nodded.

“I found out later that Nate had a nearly impossible time with the concept himself. I’m sure he blamed himself more than he ever admitted to me. Nate believed he could fix anything, that an ounce of prevention was worth a pound of cure. It must have appalled him to have the love of his life swept away from him so suddenly and irrevocably. He missed her terribly.”

“Yet you married him.”

Andrea patted Lilith’s hand again. “Oh, don’t be getting misty-eyed for me. I loved Nate and he loved me, but it’s different each time. The part of his heart that he had given to Eliza was hers forever - the part he shared with me was something she had probably never seen. It might have been a part of him that came to light only when he lost her.”

Andrea shrugged. “He could probably say the same thing about me. But if we didn’t change over the course of our lives, well, we wouldn’t be learning much from life, would we?”

She paused for a moment, then frowned slightly. “It shakes your universe to lose a great love, and I saw evidence of that in Nate. He was determined to live for the moment, to savor every bite the world offered. It was three years after Eliza’s death that we crossed paths at a charity dance and it is some commentary on the man’s charm that I didn’t dance one dance that night.”

“You said you love to dance,” Lilith said with a chuckle and Andrea grinned.

“Oh, Lilith, it was absolutely wonderful. Like it was destined to be. Nate made me laugh at some silly joke, I looked into his eyes and I saw the way they twinkled. Something happened in that moment, something magical, and I knew before we said another word that I was going to see a lot of Nate Davison from that point on.” She smiled into her lemonade. “He had a way of making you feel as though you were the very center of the universe, or at least of his universe, that you were the sun and the moon and the stars.”

Lilith could certainly see the same tendencies in Nate’s son.

“And I liked him very much.” Andrea licked her lips and studied her glass. “I have to admit that there were times when I wished I had met Nate sooner, but then, neither of us would have been the people we were at that ball on that night.” She shrugged. “And maybe then, there would have been no spark. I don’t know.”

Andrea took a deep breath. “I do know that I loved Nate right through to the bone, that we could talk and talk about nothing or about everything. I loved how we had champagne in bed just because it was Tuesday, how we made love anywhere we felt like it.” She grinned in recollection and Lilith smiled with her.

“I loved how he brought flowers and never really stopped courting me. You see,” Andrea smiled sadly, “I had learned how fleeting the good moments can be, too. We took every single moment we had and made them count, we lived those five years with an intensity that most people don’t match in the sum of their whole lives.”

“It sounds wonderful.”

Andrea sobered, her gaze on the children. “It was.”

Then she swallowed a gulp of lemonade and Lilith let Andrea take a minute to compose herself.

“I’m telling you this, Lilith, so you understand the world Mitch was raised in. He knew nothing but love and harmony as a child, of giving and laughing, of perfect partnership and love everlasting. Nate and Eliza were smitten on sight, as the story went, and were together virtually from that moment on. They were happy. Mitch grew up believing that was how all marriages were - he never knew any different. He never realized that he was used to a Rolls Royce until he found himself in a much more basic model.”

“With Janice?”

“With Janice.” Andrea looked as grim as Mitch could. “I have no doubt that Mitch swept her off her feet, that she felt like she was the center of the universe. Mitch is a great deal like his father and he had learned so much of love and giving in that household. The difference was that Janice only took and Mitch only gave.”

“Over time, that kind of deficit gets difficult to manage. It’s like buying everything on credit cards and never paying the balance, just the minimum payment. The debt mounts and mounts, until your whole life collapses around you like a house of cards.”

Andrea looked Lilith in the eye. “Love shouldn’t be that way and neither should marriage.”

She sipped her lemonade. “I find hard to believe that Nate never saw the truth, but maybe he just didn’t want to notice it. Or maybe he didn’t want to comment on it. He was a tremendously loyal man - it would be like him to believe that since marriage was forever, that time would put the balance back in Mitch’s marriage.”

Andrea frowned. “But I never believed it and I never liked that Janice. You could see the hunger in her eyes - she’d gobble up the whole world for herself given half a chance. And by the time I came along, she was getting miserable. The Queen of the May did not have the exclusive attention of her courtier and she didn’t like it one bit. But she wasn’t overt about it - maybe only another woman would see the signs. And Mitch, of course - she made sure he never missed it.”

Now Lilith was intrigued. “What do you mean?”

“I remember a dinner party thrown for an old friend of Mitch’s - a friend who just happened to be a woman. Charming girl, you could see at a glance that she and Mitch would never be more than friends. She was going to Europe for some plum job, destined to be gone for a decade. Her parents were great friends of Nate’s, but had moved to a condo and didn’t have the space, so we hosted a black-tie farewell party.”

“Well! Janice came in a dress that nearly spilled her breasts onto the table. They were fine enough breasts, though we all really didn’t want to see them. But she couldn’t risk sharing Mitch’s attention, even for an hour. And that wasn’t the worst of it.

“Janice was so jealous that Mitch might pay attention to something other than herself, that she never left him alone that night. She ran her hands all over him, she pinched his butt when we went in to dinner, she was hanging on him every minute. It was terribly embarrassing. I spread a rumor that she was drunk.” Andrea shrugged. “What else was I going to do? People were noticing.”

“I sat them opposite each other at dinner, to deliberately give Mitch a bit of breathing room, and his friend by his side so they would some chance to talk. Yet during the meal I couldn’t help but notice that Mitch was looking particularly uncomfortable. He was very quiet and he had that beleaguered look.”

Lilith smiled. “I know that one.”

Andrea nodded sagely. “So, I went to check on dessert - completely unnecessarily, of course, we had excellent staff - and just happened to walk down that side of the table.” She straightened indignantly. “Janice had her toes in Mitch’s lap! I could see his napkin moving, as no doubt did everyone else on that side of the table. I could have smacked her silly! And do you know what happened later?”

Lilith shook her head.

“They stayed the night. Of course, we had plenty of room, and gave them the spare room with ensuite. I thought they were going to need some privacy, after that performance! I thought I heard arguing, but then remembered what it was like being young and hot to trot.” Andrea smiled. “I shut the door to our suite and didn’t pay much attention.” Her smile faded. “But in the morning, Mitch was asleep in his father’s study, still in his tux.”

Andrea looked Lilith in the eye. “She didn’t want him. She was only teasing him to keep him from giving his attention to somebody else. That’s just how she was. Mitch never knew I saw him there, for he took pains to slip back upstairs and emerge as though he had been in that bedroom all night.” Andrea grimaced. “Loyal to the end. Janice might have been pulling his chain, but he wasn’t going to give anyone any reason to malign her.” She took a swig of lemonade. “I never told Nate.”

“Why not? Maybe he would have talked to Mitch.”

Andrea shook her head. “If you think Mitch is reticent about emotional matters, you should have seen Nate. And Nate was a consummate family man, too. Divorce really wasn’t in his personal vocabulary, even though he was a lawyer. It would have broken his heart to know what was going on there - and even I only had a glimpse of it.”

She stared into her glass and smiled slightly. “But you have to wonder if there is some kind of divine plan. You see, Nate died while Janice was pregnant with Jason. He was very pleased about the pregnancy, with the prospect of a grandchild. And Mitch was relieved and excited, too. People have this great faith that the presence of children alone can mend gaping rifts in relationships, but it just isn’t so.” Andrea sipped. “If things are bad, the arrival of a bundle of joy makes things worse.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not easy having little ones underfoot. They’re demanding, they don’t sleep for nice eight hour stretches, they can’t do anything for themselves. They’re a lot of work, particularly at the beginning, and when couples get frazzled and tired, even the most healthy relationship will show strains.”

Andrea sighed. “I’m glad that Nate missed all of that, I wish Mitch could have. Even the last trimester after Nate died was rotten business. It would have broken Nate’s heart to hear Janice’s tirades about how fat she was getting, never mind her refusal to eat properly for the sake of the baby. She nearly made Mitch crazy, but then, she had his undivided attention that way, which was probably the only thing she wanted.”

“That’s hardly fair to the baby,” Lilith said softly, thinking of how Mitch would have worried.

“No, it’s not. I fret myself silly. Yet someone somewhere blessed them with a perfect little boy, despite all the foolish things Janice had done during those nine months. She was very lucky, but she didn’t see it that way. Not at all. When I visited at the hospital, I watched Janice.” Andrea swallowed. “I saw her malice when Mitch showed us his son, there’s nothing else you could call it. Mitch was so delighted, so tickled with this little boy - and fairly so! - that he never saw Janice’s expression when she realized she was always going to have to share. I was very afraid that there was going to be trouble.”

“Was she cruel to Jason?”

“No.” Andrea frowned. “Surprisingly not.” She smiled. “For some reason, Janice was an exemplary mother, if rather an unaffectionate one - maybe that was her tack to get Mitch’s approval for those couple of years. I don’t know, but everything really did seem to settle down. When she got pregnant again and they said it would be a girl, she seemed pleased. I thought she might bond better with a girl, so when Jen was born, I took Jason for a few weeks.”

Andrea smiled. “I think every pot in my kitchen had a spin around the floor, he worked every clasp on every purse and figured out every baby-proof device in the place. Tupperware fascinated him - I can still hear his chortles when he managed to make it close with a burp. We were having quite a lot of fun, Jason and I, until Janice pulled her stunt.”

Andrea’s lips drew to a thin line. “Clearly, things were much worse than I had ever imagined.”

She cleared her throat. “You see, Janice was a taker of the first order. She never understood the golden rule, that everything you give comes back to you a hundredfold. The great irony of all of this is that if she had given just a tiny bit to Mitch, she would have been showered with more love and attention than even she could have handled.”

Andrea met Lilith’s gaze. “She truly would have been the center of his universe for all time, because if nothing else, Nate taught Mitch how a man should love his wife. But Janice only saw what was in it for her, and she missed the greatest prize of all.”

Andrea shook her head abruptly. “I’m still angry with her,” she confessed. “I’m still angry that she hurt Mitch so badly, that she left him believing that it was his fault. I’m not proud of that, but it’s unfair that Mitch blames himself for her selfishness. It’s unfair that he gives and gives to his kids, but doesn’t dare to expect anything for himself. Janice taught Mitch that - and it’s a lot less than he deserves. She’s still got him all trussed up and oh! It makes me furious!”

Andrea reached out suddenly and squeezed Lilith’s hand. She took a deep breath and obviously tried to blink away the sheen of tears in her eyes. “But you’re undoing the lesson, Lilith, as I never imagined anyone could.” She bit her lip. “Don’t stop. Don’t give up on him.”

“I won’t,” Lilith pledged, surprised when Andrea gave her a big hug.

“I know,” Andrea whispered. “That’s what I like about you. You’re almost as stubborn as I am. You’re going to fit right in to this family and don’t let anyone tell you different.”

Lilith grinned and hugged Andrea back, wiping away a tear of her own. She looked up to find Mitch lingering at the gate, his gaze warm. He smiled at her and Lilith smiled back.

“Okay?” he mouthed and she nodded.

Mitch slammed the gate as though he was just arriving and the kids raced to meet him. Andrea straightened and wiped away the last of her tears, summoning a quick smile.

“Is there a nice cool swimming pool back here?” Mitch demanded. “I need a swim.”

“Me, too!” Kurt declared, following Mitch into the yard.

“Here, Daddy, here!” Jen cried, running to catch at Mitch’s hand when he made a great show of not being able to find the pool. He collapsed into it finally, almost overwhelming it. Jen jumped on top of him, Cooley barked, Jason got the hose and turned it on Kurt. The yard soon became grounds for a big boisterous water fight that left them all soaked.

Mitch shook out his hair the way Cooley did and grinned up at Lilith. “I had this idea,” he said to no one in particular, his gaze fixed upon hers. “How about we take Nana to the airport tomorrow, then go to the zoo?” This idea was greeted with great approval, but Mitch was watching Lilith closely. “Join us?” he asked, the tentative edge to his words making her smile.

“I’d love to,” Lilith replied warmly. Andrea hummed approval but Lilith was much more interested in Mitch’s flashing grin.

“Good!” he said, leaving no doubt of his feelings about the matter and Lilith felt her heart begin to pound.

“Lillit!” A bedraggled Jen tugged on Lilith’s skirt. “Can we take Dartaggin? He can visit the big kitties.”

Jen looked so hopeful that Lilith didn’t immediately have a good answer for that. “I don’t think so, Jen.”

“Why not?”

Andrea started to chuckle. “Get used to that one,” she murmured, then ducked into the kitchen. Mitch winked, then insisted on seeing the state of Jason’s garden, the two of them soon talking about all manner of bugs and crawly things. Kurt waved and departed for some big date.

“Why not, Lillit?” Jen demanded again and Lilith knew she was going to think of something but quick.

Talk about trial by fire.

 

* * *

 

When Lilith went home that evening, the next card had turned itself over.

She picked up The Hanged Man and studied the card. Pictured was a man, hung upside down. A rope bound his one ankle to the bough of a tree, a noose on the wrong end of the man, like the Norse god Odin swinging from the world tree for nine days and nights in search of illumination.

Number twelve in the higher arcana, The Hanged Man was a clear reference to Sebastian’s untimely demise. It was also Mitch Davison after Janice got through with him.

On a third level, it could be Mitch today. Lilith sank into a chair and thought about it. The Hanged Man has the courage to challenge what he knows is true, to put aside the pain of his own experience, and to trust that taking a chance will win him results. The Hanged Man trusts in what he cannot see, what he does not really know to be true but believes is true. The Hanged Man sacrifices what he holds dear, counting on forces he can’t explain to take him to a new plateau of understanding.

Lilith fingered the card. Clearly, Janice had shaken Mitch’s faith in love and given him a radically different experience of marriage than the one he had expected. And just as clearly, Mitch was slowly putting the “lessons” Janice had taught him aside. Lilith could feel him letting down his guard, trusting her, showing her more and more of who he was. The way his gaze clung to hers, the way he worked to make her smile were the mark of a man preparing to come courting.

Lilith smiled with the realization that Mitch was taking a chance on love, despite what he had experienced before, no doubt in the hope that he and Lilith would find a magickal love well worth that risk. He had to be facing one of his great fears - for Lilith knew how tender broken hearts could be - but Mitch faced the challenge squarely. She had to admire his steady progress and his determination.

But then, they were destined to be together, after all.

Lilith put down the card thoughtfully. She considered that Mitch had something to teach her. Her own refusal to visit this elderly Rom woman looked childish in comparison to his resolve.

Because Lilith wasn’t taking any chances. Lilith believed in a lot of things that couldn’t be seen, but she hadn’t been prepared to risk anything beyond that.

She was acting like a coward. The realization did not sit well.

But as Lilith sat there and considered that, Mitch’s conviction in the merit of taking a chance fueled her own. She felt his faith well up inside her and heard again the echo of conviction in his suggestion that this grandmother might need Lilith as much as Lilith needed her.

He might be right.

He might be wrong, but there was only one way to find the truth. And there was only one way to prove that she wasn’t a coward. Lilith was still afraid of what might happen, but she had to face her fear.

Lilith knew then that she would go the hospital.

 

* * *

 

Mitch was a very happy camper. They’d had a great time at the zoo, just like a family. The kids were so comfortable with Lilith that he knew he had nothing to worry about on that score, and she was so clear-thinking and sensible that he knew she’d take exemplary care of them.

Of course, he’d still worry, but he’d worry less.

On Tuesday, the hardware store called to say that Lilith’s new storm door was in. Mitch picked it up on the way home and installed it that evening, keeping one eye on the kids as they played. He could hear Lilith reading fortunes in the front of her house and shamelessly eavesdropped.

Lilith’s advice, without fail, was positive, caring and compassionate. Even if she had some strange preconceptions, it was clear that there was no maliciousness or opportunism in Lilith Romano.

For once, Mitch Davison was very glad to keep finding reassurance that he had been wrong.

 

* * *

 

On the following Thursday afternoon when all her appointments and obligations were resolved, Lilith took a deep breath and dressed carefully. She walked down to the subway, a scrawled slip of paper in her hand. It was high time she shake hands with her destiny and confront the legacy in her veins.

Even if the prospect made something tremble in her belly.

The hospital was bustling with activity, the emergency ward filled to the brim. Lilith worked her way through the throng to the main reception and discovered, to her mingled relief and trepidation, that she hadn’t come too late.

The smell of death, or more accurately the sense of its presence, grew stronger in the elevator, and stronger again when Lilith walked down the long pale corridor. Nurses brushed past her with efficient smiles, but as she drew near the end of the hall - and closer to the room number she had been given - the activity slowed noticeably.

And the tang in the air grew stronger. Lilith realized that no one else could sense it, no one without her Gift, but to her, it was as unmistakable as the sting of freshly cut onions.

It was the last room in the hall that bore the right number, the same room from which the whisper of death emanated. Lilith tapped on the door and, when there was no answer, she nudged it open.

An elderly woman sat staring out the window, as though she would make sense of the rush of traffic on the highway below. She didn’t even look up when Lilith stepped into the room, but Lilith knew she had found in the right place. The woman’s cheeks were hollow, her gaze distracted, a knowledge in her pose of her own inescapable fate.

Not to mention its proximity.

And Lilith knew from the hook of the woman’s nose, the squint of her eyes, the determination of her posture, that this was the Rom grandmother she sought. Although she wore the standard hospital issue backless gown, her feet were shoved into slippers rich with colorful embroidery. Gold hoops hung from her ears, a floral shawl was cast over her bony shoulders.

Lilith paused and stared, suddenly awash in recollections. This could have been Dritta, it could have been a dozen women Lilith had known.

It could have been herself if she hadn’t drunk the elixir.

Lilith swallowed hard. The prevalence of white in the room even made her shiver, the scent of disinfectant and laundered sheets so far from the fresh breeze of the outside air.

Lilith bit her lip, recalled the grandson’s dismay, and considered that this grandmother was in no small pain herself. It was clear she had no interest in who came to her door, her manner much like that of Dritta in a temper. Lilith remembered how she had coaxed Dritta from a foul mood with compliments, and decided it was worth a try.

She had come all this way, after all.

“Good afternoon, phuri bibi,” Lilith said softly from the doorway in Rom. She used the term phuri bibi, literally old aunt, but its import was noble, more akin to great lady.

The woman stiffened and turned, her eyes narrowed as she surveyed Lilith. Her lip curled. “Posh rat!” she charged.

Half-blood.

Lilith swallowed, certain her expectation of rejection would soon be proven right. But she shook her head. The Rom had little use for half-breeds and the woman was obviously using that as an excuse to get rid of Lilith.

How like Dritta that was!

“Tacho rat,” Lilith corrected softly. Full blood.

The older woman’s eyes widened. She turned slightly in her chair and her gaze sharpened like that of an inquisitive bird. When she spoke in full sentences, Lilith knew she had made progress.

“But you speak the words like they do not belong on your tongue,” the woman charged in rhythmic Rom. “You cannot be of us.”

Lilith advanced into the room and paused, not far from the woman’s bright gaze. “I have not spoken Rom for a long time,” she admitted. There was no point in lying, even if the truth gave this woman the excuse she needed to send Lilith away.

“Why not?”

Lilith looked into those dark eyes so like her own, took a breath and confessed. “I was called mahrime.”

The woman’s lips pursed, but she did not pull away. “Why?”

“I loved a gadjo.”

The woman snorted and fussed with her gown. “No Rom man was good enough for you?”

“No Rom man was my soul mate.”

The older woman looked up at that. “You have him still?” she asked with a coyness so unexpected that Lilith almost smiled. Instead she nodded and her companion’s resulting smile spread slowly.

Then the older woman abruptly sobered and looked across the room. “I had a soul mate until they stole him from me.”

Lilith didn’t know what to say to that, so she waited.

The other woman finally bit her lip and looked back to Lilith, her tone brisk once more. “Are you a good Rom girl? How did my grandson find you?”

“I am a drabarni,” Lilith admitted. A fortune-teller. An herbalist. A healer. For the Rom, they were all one and the same.

Which was why the grandson had been sent for a fortune-teller. Lilith knew.

The woman’s eyes gleamed approval. “He is a clever boy in his moments.” She reached up and pinched Lilith’s cheek. “And are you a good drabarni? Do you have the Sight?”

Lilith nodded, unable to deny how the woman reminded her of Dritta.

She nodded approval of that. “You make your man a good wife, whether he is gadjo or no. After all, shuk chi hal pe la royasa.”

Beauty cannot be eaten with a spoon.

It was a favorite old Rom proverb and good to hear it on another tongue. The words convinced Lilith that she had done the right thing in coming here.

“But I am mahrime,” she felt compelled to remind the woman. After all, any contact with her could taint this woman as well. “Does it not trouble you?”

The older woman blew through her lips like an old horse. “We are not so many that we can stand apart on such things,” she said regally. “I am too old to care. You are here. You speak Rom to me. It is enough.”

The relief that flooded through Lilith left her feeling weak in its wake. She blinked back unexpected tears, seeing now how foolish she had been to be afraid. Mitch had given her this. Mitch had given her the gift of confidence to face her past.

She was going to have to make sure the man was rewarded.

Lilith’s characteristic determination to set matters to rights was rising to the fore again. “Your grandson said you had something to tell him,” she suggested gently.

The woman clicked her teeth in agitation. “I must tell him in Rom. It is not a tale for gadje words.” She seemed to get much more upset suddenly and stirred in her chair. “This wicked gadje place, I do not like it, with all its white and bad luck and death. It is wrong, it is evil, it is not where I should be!”

The grandmother struggled now to get up, as though she would walk right out of there, but she was obviously too frail to do so. She railed against her weakness and made a sound of frustration in the back of her throat, cursing the gadje with unexpected vigor. Lilith reached out to reassure her, and the woman grasped her hand with surprising strength.

At the move, the older woman’s bright shawl fell back and Lilith saw the blue tattooed number on the woman’s forearm. A shiver ran over her own flesh at the sight, then she looked up to meet the woman’s eyes.

“You see it,” the elderly woman whispered with triumph, her voice less even than it was just a moment before. ‘You do know without knowing.”

Before Lilith could agree, or dismiss the dark images that crawled into her mind, the older woman’s fingers tightened around Lilith’s like a claw. “I think you know what it is to be hunted.”

That Lilith did. Her mouth went dry, her gaze strayed again to the tattoo. She heard the dogs; she felt the ground tremble; she smelled fear.

The woman leaned closer, the shimmer of a tear in her bright eyes, anxiety in her words. “But tell me, child, tell me. Your gadjo is not such a man as these were, is he?”

“No.” Lilith shook her head vigorously. She had seen pictures of the Holocaust, she had heard of the trials faced there. But she had not considered that her own people had suffered.

“They said they came to study us, but that was not enough for them.” The old woman straightened with a snort. “We called it the porraimos.”

The Devouring. Lilith closed her eyes as a cold hand clenched inside her. As was so often the case when the Rom reapplied a word to a situation for which their language had not words, the choice was more than apt.

She felt foolish now that she had never guessed what was happening within a Germany run by people so concerned with the purity of bloodlines. Though she had lived through those years, Lilith had never known, never imagined that the Rom had suffered too. She wondered what she would have done if she had known. Lilith wondered whether she, like so many others, would have believed that there was nothing she could do to help.

It was only now that she saw the weakness of not even trying.

“How many?” she whispered, knowing that even one was too many.

“Half a million, maybe more, maybe less.” A tear worked its way down the elderly woman’s cheek. “He must know the story,” she said urgently. “He must understand. You must help me.”

“Yes,” Lilith agreed without hesitation.

It was late, too late for those half a million souls, but Lilith would do what she could to help. This woman’s acceptance of Lilith despite her mahrime status undermined all of Lilith’s own rejections. She was Rom. Her legacy coursed through her veins, just as Dritta had declared it always would.

Mitch had been right. This woman did need Lilith’s abilities, just as Lilith had needed her acceptance.

There had been absolutely no reason to be afraid.

And now, now Lilith could help this woman, could do some healing, could set matters to rights. Mitch had given her this gift, for Lilith wouldn’t have been here without his example and his encouragement.

They were going to make a good team. Just thinking that made her smile, but Lilith had work to do. “What will you tell your grandson?”

“He must know of my soul mate. He must know of the grandfather he never knew. He must know what it means to be hunted, what is the price of trusting foolishly. He must know the legacy that comes to him in blood.”

The woman’s voice faltered. ‘I must tell him in Rom, but he does not understand it. And I, I am forgetting what little gadje that I did know.” She shook her head. “I think it is a vengeance of my tongue, maybe the mulo of my love does not want to hear me speak thus. I hear him in the wind now. He is close.”

The two women looked into each other’s eyes and Lilith saw that this one task left undone was all that gave the woman before her the will to continue.

They would have to hurry, to see it finished in time. Lilith was suddenly very glad that she had come.

And she was humbled that she held the key to grant this woman her one desire.

Lilith smiled and squeezed the older woman’s hand. “Then we shall teach him, you and I. And then he will know both your story and your tongue. It is a fitting legacy for your only grandson.” Lilith leaned closer, easily remembering the Rom superstition of naming those who have passed on. “And he will know of the one we cannot name. He will know not only what it is to be hunted, but what it is to be loved.”

With that pledge, the older woman began to weep silently.

She didn’t bow her head. She didn’t sniffle or wipe at her tears. She simply let them flow, looking every bit as proud and determined as she had when Lilith had entered the room. She clutched Lilith’s hand, though, her own a withered shadow of what it once must have been. Lilith sat silently beside her, watching the tears roll and shed one or two of her own.

“Grandmother?” A young man’s voice carried from the doorway.

Lilith looked up to find a familiar young man hesitating on the threshold, fresh flowers clutched in his hands. The woman stiffened and sniffled.

“Puri daj,” Lilith corrected softly. “That’s Rom for ‘grandmother’.”

The concern eased from the grandson’s features, relief brightening his eyes as he stepped into the room. “Puri daj,” he repeated carefully. His gaze flicked to Lilith, then back to his grandmother. “Are you all right?”

“Ov yilo isi?” Lilith supplied. He looked to her questioningly. “’Is it okay?’” she whispered, blinking back her own tears. “Or literally, ‘is your heart still there?’”

The young man bent to kiss his grandmother’s cheek. “Ov yilo isi?” he said with slow precision.

And she smiled. She clasped the flowers to her chest and clutched at his hand, reaching up to kiss his cheek in return. Then she tapped her heart and wiped away a tear. “Such a good boy,” she whispered in Rom, then rapped Lilith on the knee with sudden severity. “You will find him a nice Rom girl, a drabarni like you.”

Lilith smiled and glanced to the mystified man before her. “I will try.”

“Try!” The woman snorted disdain. She rallied and snapped her fingers under Lilith’s nose, once again the grand and proud lady in command of her domain. “If your gadjo is not smart, my grandson will steal away your heart to make it his own!”

There wasn’t much change of that happening, which suited Lilith just fine.

 

* * *

 

13

Death

 

Mitch walked up the street Thursday night, kids in tow, and found himself whistling under his breath. His pulse leapt when he spotted Lilith lingering on her porch, then Jen broke free and ran.

“Lillit! I made you a picture!”

Lilith stepped from her porch and scooped up Jen with easy familiarity, the two having bonded something fierce in the last few days. The picture was duly admired, Lilith’s dark gaze dancing repeatedly to meet Mitch’s while the children shared their news with her.

For the first time in his entire career, Mitch was not looking forward to attending this annual conference. It was a huge meet and greet, a terrific networking opportunity, but he didn’t want to pack up and leave in the morning.

He wanted to have another weekend just like the last one. He wanted to go to the zoo, and laugh with his kids, and lose himself in the sparkle of Lilith’s dark eyes. The kids climbed Lilith’s porch, Jason opening her door and Jen looking for D’Artagnan, leaving Mitch and Lilith momentarily alone.

Lilith threw her arms around Mitch’s neck and kissed him as though there was no tomorrow. He was more than happy to enjoy the moment, to cradle the sweet weight of her against him.

When she finally pulled away, he couldn’t help but smile. “What was that all about?”

“I went to the hospital,” she confessed breathlessly, her smile telling Mitch all he needed to know about what had happened. “And I want to thank you in every way I can imagine.” She stretched to her toes and would have kissed him again, if Mitch hadn’t landed a thumb against her lips.

He grinned. “How about some ways I can imagine?” Mitch felt her lips curve under his thumb.

“Just how imaginative are journalists, anyway?” she teased.

“You might be surprised. We’re very creative people.” Mitch chuckled and let his fingertips slide along her jaw line. He felt her shiver and considered several very interesting possibilities before voicing the one he had in mind.

“I want to spend tonight with you and the kids,” he confessed quietly. “Tell me all about the magic you’ve made this week.”

Lilith tilted her head to look up at him. “I thought you didn’t believe in magick.”

Mitch smiled wryly. “I saw you with the butterflies last weekend,” he confessed, “and I think I feel a conversion coming on.” Mitch sobered as he watched his fingertip slide across the fullness of her lips. “I have to leave at five in the morning, Lilith. I want to have this evening to replay all weekend long.”

Tonight he needed a little sample of Lilith’s tranquility to take along with him.

And he saw in her eyes that she understood.

But the twinkle that immediately appeared told Mitch that she was going to give him a hard time about it anyway.

Of course, Lilith always gave him a hard time, in more ways than one. She challenged everything - not the least of which was Mitch’s self control.

Maybe that was why she so thoroughly captured his attention.

Lilith slipped her fingers into his hair, her touch feather light, then brushed her lips against his. Mitch felt an ember being to glow deep inside him. Then Lilith’s eyes flashed and she pivoted, tossing a flirtatious glance over her shoulder.

“All this delay,” she said archly. “I’m going to start thinking that you’re not interested, after all.”

There was an opening that couldn’t be refused!

Lilith barely made it into the foyer before Mitch caught her in his arms. She laughed throatily as he held her close, and returned his kiss hungrily. He only stopped when they both were in need of a deep breath.

“That should clear up any doubts,” he growled, deliberately letting her feel the indicator of her effect upon him.

“Tease!” Lilith charged with a playful wrinkle of her nose. Then she spun out of his embrace and danced toward the kitchen, the flash of her bare feet making his chinos tight.

“Me?!” Mitch demanded in astonishment. But Lilith laughed unrepentantly and ran for the sanctuary of the kitchen.

And Mitch, ready to follow, paused and looked around Lilith’s house for the first time. It was strikingly cozy, welcoming and comfortable. He felt at ease just crossing the threshold. He fought his smile as he followed her to the kitchen, not surprised to find his kids already bumming cookies.

“What would you say to sharing a bit of your decorating advice?” he asked, unable to forget Andrea’s early suggestion. Lilith turned with a smile that told Mitch he already had her agreement. “I could definitely use your help.”

 

* * *

 

It was when she popped in to pick up a few things Friday morning that Lilith found the Death card.

She had come home humming from taking the children to daycare, memories of the evening before making her smile. She had dumped an armload of groceries on Mitch’s counter and was happier than she could ever remember being. She had just come home for a few things and saw the card waiting for her.

Lilith’s heart stopped at the sight of it, then began to race. She stared at the card from the threshold of the living room, reluctant to draw any closer to it, and felt the blood drain from her face.

An Italian village square, its corners haunted with the shadows of twilight, loomed in her mind with sudden clarity.

Lilith thought about plane crashes, car accidents, hotel bombings and elevators dropping like stones. Flukes of nature, and earthquakes and rivers rising, jumped into her mind. She thought about noble-minded men dashing into burning buildings to save children, and pedestrians being mowed by drunken drivers just for stepping off the curb.

Lilith’s stomach rolled at the realization that there were a wealth of nasty possibilities that could keep Mitch from ever coming back again.

But she couldn’t lose her true love again! It wouldn’t be fair; it wouldn’t be right. Mitch couldn’t be stolen away from her, not after all this time, not after all she had done, not after all the hurdles they had leapt together. They were close, tantalizingly close to making a commitment to each other - the Fates couldn’t cheat Lilith again.

Or at least she wouldn’t just stand by and watch.

Lilith stormed into the room and tried to pick up the card. She tried to turn it over and make it go away.

But she couldn’t get a grip on the card. It seemed to be stuck to the table and clung there with a force she couldn’t undermine. Lilith couldn’t lift it from the table - she couldn’t even slide her nail underneath it.

Its stubbornness made her panic. Lilith scrabbled at the card, then turned her attention to the next one. She tried to force things to move on, understanding that there was much more at stake her than the inexplicable flipping of cards.

But she couldn’t turn over the next one either.

Lilith sat down with a thump, pressed her fingertips to her temples, and took a trio of deep breaths. She sternly told herself to get a grip.

She focused on the card. It didn’t always literally mean death and Lilith knew that, as little consolation as that was.

The Death card could mean transformation, change, a shift in viewpoint. It could mean metamorphosis. She tried the cards one more time but they all were apparently sealed in place.

And Lilith knew there was only one way to make them move.

Something had to happen.

Something had to change.

Okay. If there had to be transformation for the cards to move on, then Lilith would engineer some changes around here. She was a can-do kind of witch, after all. She would short-circuit the cards, whatever their intent might be.

A feline yowl carried from the yard in that moment, followed by a wolfhound’s low bark. Lilith straightened and looked to the kitchen. She could take a hint, she thought with a smile, and knew exactly what her first change was going to be.

 

* * *

 

If D’Artagnan wondered why he was being given his very favorite salmon at a strange time of the morning and for no obvious reason at all, he didn’t show it. In fact, he practically inhaled the unscheduled meal, then sat back, burped inelegantly and began to clean himself with satisfaction.

Lilith smiled, knowing he hadn’t even tasted her little amendment. She waited until his eyes started to droop, then scooped him up and headed next door.

D’Artagnan squirmed drowsily at the sight of Mitch’s back gate, evidently guessing where Lilith was going but not having the fight to do much about it. She could get used to him being mellow like this, but knew the herbal addition to his meal would wear off in an hour or so.

For the moment, D’Artagnan was uncharacteristically placid, which was exactly what Lilith needed.

Cooley wagged with enthusiasm when Lilith opened the gate, his gaze sharpening when he spied the cat. He sniffed excitedly and Lilith put D’Artagnan down right under his nose. She held her breath hoping that familiarity would breed a lack of interest.

The cat wobbled slightly and shook his head. Cooley sniffed on full power, circling the dazed cat with evident fascination. He drew near warily, ducking and weaving until he was certain he wouldn’t be clawed. When the dog sniffed D’Artagnan’s ears, always a sensitive spot, the cat half-heartedly tried to bat the dog’s nose away.

The move made D’Artagnan lose his balance. He sat down with a thump and hissed at the dog, though the gesture lacked his usual vehemence. His tail was already starting to flick with displeasure.

Abruptly, Cooley’s curiosity was satisfied. He considered the cat only a moment longer before wandering off to explore more interesting matters in the garden. D’Artagnan straightened clumsily and stared after the dog. His tail waved like a banner, his ears stood up, he mewed loudly. Lilith had the distinct impression that he was insulted to have lost the dog’s attention.

D’Artagnan yowled but Cooley barely even looked back. The cat ran a few uneven steps, he puffed out his tail and hissed in a more typical manner. The dog collapsed on the back porch, stunningly indifferent, and nosed out something that had gotten into his paw.

D’Artagnan glanced accusingly to Lilith and she could only smile. Just as she had hoped, Cooley had only wanted a good sniff. Now that he had had one, there was no curiosity to satisfy. The cat tiptoed closer and boldly batted the dog on the nose, as though challenging him back to the chase. D’Artagnan ran a few uneven steps, glancing back in consternation when he was not pursued.

Cooley wagged his tail, then dropped his chin to his paws with a noisy sigh and started to snore.

The cat’s tail dropped. He seemed so uncertain as to what to do that Lilith laughed aloud.

One change made with resounding success. Lilith let herself into the kitchen and began a quick survey of the house, considering all the while what could be done.

Then, she headed to the paint store, more than ready to make a little transformation of her own.

Mitch had asked for her help, after all.

 

* * *

 

Jen awakened in the night with the dreadful certainty that her daddy wasn’t there. She clutched Bun to her chest and felt her little heart go pit-a-pat.

She was alone.

Jen bit her lip, she blinked back her tears. She had promised Daddy that she would be a big girl, that she wouldn’t get scared, that she would be good for Lillit.

But it was hard to do in the middle of the night. The shadows loomed large around Jen’s bed, the darkness in the corners were deep enough to hide any kind of spooky thing. She was suddenly quite sure that there was a monster under the bed. Jen rolled into a little ball and felt the first tear slide down her cheek.

She was all alone.

It was really scary, yet she couldn’t help straining her ears. Jen hoped she wouldn’t hear that monster breathing, she didn’t want to know for sure he was there, didn’t want to suspect that he was hungry for tasty little girls. But she listened all the same.

And that was when Jen heard the music.

It was coming from the kitchen.

The kitchen, where Lillit was.

And Lillit, Jen was sure, would know exactly what to do about monsters.

Jen grabbed Bun tight, afraid he would be eaten if she left him behind. She jumped as far out of the bed as she could, almost certain the monster would reach out and grab her as soon as her feet hit the floor.

He was too slow, though, that monster. Jen made the door, her breathing fast, and bolted for the stairs. To her relief, she could see the golden light spilling from the kitchen at the bottom of the stairs.

Light and music, Lillit and safety.

Jen hoped she could get there before the monster snatched her up.

 

* * *

 

The Beatles were singing that all you needed was love and Lilith was painting up a storm. She couldn’t go to sleep without being certain that Mitch was safe, she couldn’t stray from the phone and risk missing a call. She certainly couldn’t turn off the radio and not hear the news every hour. So, she painted and she sang.

It was just past two, the darkness was pressing against the windows, and the streets were silent, when Lilith turned around to find a very distraught little girl in the kitchen doorway. There were tears on Jen’s cheeks and Bun was caught in a headlock.

Lilith immediately dropped to her knees beside Jen, surprised when the little girl cast herself into her arms without hesitation.

“I was all alone!” Jen wailed, but Lilith held her close. She felt the child’s heart fluttering in fear.

“You weren’t alone,” Lilith whispered. “I’m right here.” Jen sniffled, apparently encouraged by that, and Lilith made Bun dance a little bit. “And you had Bun to keep you company.”

“He’s scared of monsters, too.”

“Monsters?” Lilith let her eyes widen, knowing exactly the demon that Jen was fighting tonight. “There’s no monsters here. Your daddy kicked them all out of the house.”

Jen eyed her solemnly. “There’s a big one, right under my bed. He came back ’cause Daddy’s gone.”

“Well, we can’t have that!” Lilith said firmly. “We’re going to go up there and tell that monster to get right out from under your bed and go home to his own.”

Jen bit her lip and frowned. “But he’ll eat you up.”

“No, he won’t.” Lilith dropped her voice to a whisper. “Because I know a secret about monsters.”

Jen’s eyes went round and she whispered back. “A secret?”

Lilith nodded. “Monsters are scared of love. You see, when you love someone, or they love you, you’re never alone. And monsters can’t get you.”

Jen thought about this, too busy thinking to remember to cry. “I love Bun,” she offered.

“Oh, that must be why you’re safe.” Lilith heaved a sigh of relief. “And your daddy loves you, and your Nana loves you, too. Why, that monster hasn’t got a chance! Once he knows about all that love, he’ll just disappear.” Lilith snapped her fingers. “Poof!”

Jen visibly brightened at this news. “We could sing him the Barney song,” she suggested. “That’s about love.” Lilith’s confusion must have shown because Jen patted her hand. “Don’t you know the Barney song?”

Lilith had to admit she didn’t.

Jen scrambled to her feet with purpose and took Lilith’s hand, as though Lilith was the one who had come running in tears. It was funny how many of Andrea’s gestures the little girl mimicked. She dragged Lilith toward the stairs. “I’ll teach you and we can sing it together.”

Fortunately, the Barney song was not overly complicated. By the time they reached Jen’s bedroom the pair of them were singing it together. As they sat on the bed and sang it three more times, Lilith noticed that they weren’t alone.

D’Artagnan had trailed behind them. He jumped onto the end of Jen’s bed, kneaded the cover to his satisfaction, then curled up to sleep.

He threw Lilith a glance that dared her to comment on his choice and she knew better than to say anything at all. By the time Lilith turned out the light and left Jen slumbering, it was clear that the little girl had a bright-eyed champion more than ready to defend her from any monster foolish enough to slide under the bed.

Another change, credited to Jen’s charming of the crusty D’Artagnan. Who would have guessed that the independent cat would melt for a little girl?

Lilith paused in the hall to listen and heard Jen’s breathing slow. Maybe Jen could get over being afraid to be alone. That would make another change. Lilith decided to mix up some Monster Repellant to let Jen mix into the paint when they did her room the next day, just to help things along.

Because Lilith knew the mystic power of threes. She had made two transformations, but her Gift warned her that there was going to be a third.

She hoped it could be the conquering of Jen’s fear. Lilith returned to her painting, keeping one ear tuned to the news, and hoped that Mitch would come home safely.

Until then, all she could do was keep busy. Fortunately, she wasn’t likely to run out of painting anytime soon.

This was one transformation that was going to take a while.

 

* * *

 

Mitch felt like hell.

Three days of lectures and networking and being away from home had beat the stuffing out of him. His mind was swimming with possibilities and trends, opportunities and considerations. All he wanted was a little peace and quiet to sort them out. And he wanted to know how everyone was doing at home.

Oh, he had called a couple of times, smiled at the kids’ stories and warmed to the sound of Lilith’s voice, but tonight a phone call just wouldn’t do. When a group of old cronies settled in to drink on Sunday afternoon, Mitch decided enough was enough. He blew off the last day of meetings, called the airline and changed his flight.