“WHEW! I FEEL LIKE A pack mule.”

Lucas collapsed on a bench in front of Dillard’s. Bags full of clothes, shoes, and other items hung from his arms like ornaments on a Christmas tree. Throngs of shoppers swept by the bench in the crowded mall while he unthreaded the bags from his arms and stacked them beside him.

Tressalayne sat next to Lucas and patted him on the arm. “Poor thing. You want me to send everything to the car?” She raised her hands and started to mouth a spell.

Lucas’ eyes widened in horror. “No!” he cried. Some of the packages tottered, then cascaded to the tiled floor, knocked there as he reached in haste to grab Tressalayne’s arm. “You can’t practice magic in front of all these people! Remember, we talked about this. No one will understand and it could get you in trouble.”

Lucas saw Tresslayne smile, and then giggle. Unable to help himself, he chuckled. “Okay, you played me.” He extricated himself from the jumble of bags pooled around his feet and stood.

“However, I’m going to get the last laugh. You can clean up this mess while I go get us a couple of soft drinks.” He leaned over, kissed her on the head, then pivoted and headed for the food court.

Lucas’ back disappeared into the crowd. A happy sigh escaped Tressalayne’s lips. She loved him so much she sometimes fought the urge to pinch herself just to make sure it wasn’t a dream. She looked at her hand and studied her engagement ring. Even slight movements caused the faceted diamonds to refract light in an array of luminous glitter, the sight a reminder of what the ring represented—marriage with a life and future shared with Lucas. Just the anticipation transformed her heart into a bottomless well of joy and happiness. If she was dreaming, she hoped she never awoke.

“Excuse me?”

Startled, Tressalayne looked up to see a statuesque woman standing beside her. Honey-brown hair fell in a glossy wave to the small of her back. Tanned legs extended from a short, white skirt, and a soft blue blouse hugged the woman’s small waist, the effect accentuating her full bosom. Expensive jewelry flashed from manicured fingers, while a Saint Laurent leather bag with a Neiman Marcus gold tag hung from the crook of her arm. A face with narrow cheekbones and haughty blue eyes peered at her.

“You must be the pretty young thing Lucas is currently infatuated with.” Her mouth twisted when she addressed Tressalayne as if the act left a sour taste in her mouth. “Oh! Where are my manners. I’m Mandi Starkey.”

Tressalayne took an immediate dislike to the woman, but forced herself to answer. “I’m Tressalayne.”

“Just Tressalayne? No last name like famous soccer players? Oh, how rich. I bet Lucas just ate that up! He’s always on the lookout for lost kittens like you.”

Anger crept up Tressalayne’s neck. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

“Why, of course you don’t. I heard all about your act at the hospital. Amnesia? Really?” A sarcastic chuckle bubbled from Mandi’s lips, and she clapped her hands. “Bravo! How classic. Lucas is so gullible, he couldn’t resist your little old helpless self.”

Tressalayne’s eyes narrowed, and her cheeks grew warm. The woman took a step back and studied her. With a sniff, she said, “Yes, you have the look. Pretty, vulnerable…and stupid.”

Tressalayne’s hands clenched into fists, her knuckles white. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I would like you to leave,” she snapped.

Mandi dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand. “Well, sweetie, let me clear that up for you. I’m the last lost kitten Lucas was with—before you that is.

Her lip twitched. “Lucas is the only man to ever leave me—men and commitment, like oil and water you know—but I never understood why. And now I look at you and wonder, he left me for this?”

Tressalayne shot up, the rest of the bags and packages tumbling to the floor. “Leave…while you still can,” she snarled through clenched teeth.

Mandi laughed. “Oh, my. Is that a threat? Do I need to call the police?” She laughed again. “I think I’ll stay right here and wait for Lucas so we can revisit all our old times together. What do you think of that?”

Tressalayne’s eyes flashed, and the gem in her amulet rippled and turned dark. A growl escaped her lips, and with a jolt, black rage filled her. She pivoted her wrist, and the Saint Laurent bag on Starkey’s arm ripped itself free. The purse burst upward, then swooped down to loop over her head. The straps settled around Starkey’s neck, and the bag turned and twisted like a pretzel. The leather dug into her flesh, and within moments, she was being garroted by her own bag. With choked gasps, her hands scrabbled at her throat.

Her other arm drew back and Tressalayne swept it in a wide arc. Starkey’s body jerked up and flew through the air to slam into a kiosk selling cell phone covers. The kiosk collapsed, the covers skittering in every direction. Not done, Tressalayne swept her hand again, and Starkey cannoned backwards across the floor. Shoppers fell like bowling pins, knocked aside in the densely packed corridor before she fetched up against yet another kiosk, her momentum finally stopped. Panicked screams, shouts, and wails from children filled the air. In the pandemonium, a crowd formed around the woman’s motionless form.

Tressalayne’s eyes fluttered. She looked around, confused. Then the memory of the woman came to her and she gasped. She looked at her hands still clenched into tight balls, and she forced herself to breathe and relax. When she looked over at the commotion, her cheeks burned. She took a step backward and collapsed onto the bench.

With face buried in her hands, she thought, what have I done?

She sat up when she saw Lucas approach, cups with straws in either hand. Neck craned, he walked while looking at the growing knot of people assembled down the mall corridor.

Tressalayne’s heart pounded in her chest. What will he think? What do I do now? She snapped her fingers, and the scattered boxes, bags and packages, shot up and stacked themselves in neat order on the bench.

Lucas, his attention still on the knot of people, stopped beside Tressalayne and handed her one of the drinks. “What’s going on?”

“I-I…” her voice trailed off. She couldn’t lie to him, and at the same time, couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth.

Lucas sat his cup beside her. “I’m going to see if they need any help.”

“No!”

Surprised, Lucas looked back at Tressalayne. His mouth fell open at the sight of the tears which dripped from her face. Concerned, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“I-I don’t feel well.” The faint sound of sirens came to their ears, and several mall security personnel rushed by. The circle of onlookers parted to let the officers pass.

Lucas, torn, said, “Someone might be hurt. Can you wait here long enough for me to see if they need a doctor?”

“Lucas, please! I just want to go home.”

The tears turned into a waterfall, and Tressalayne’s face blanched white.

Worried, Lucas placed his hand on her forehead, then checked her pulse. “You don’t have a fever, but your heart is racing. Let’s go.” Lucas picked up all the purchases and balanced them on one arm while he curled his other arm around Tressalayne’s waist. She rose, unsteady, and clung to him with the desperation of a drowning victim.

Together, they walked to an exit and narrowly avoided the EMT personnel who burst through the doors and raced by with a gurney.