THE HOUSE SAT HIGH ON a hill, a spectacular castle of blue-gray fieldstone and leaded glass, at least six chimneys jutting toward a cloudless sky, surrounded by an endless valley of spring-green trees curling toward the waters of the Hudson River.
“Welcome to Lucy’s lair,” Chase said, throwing the Viper into a lower gear to climb the mile-long drive that led to the house. “Also known as the headquarters of the Bullet Catchers.”
“Great place for staff meetings,” Arianna said, lowering her sunglasses to drink in the magnificent estate. “Or job interviews.”
“You’ve got the job, sweetheart,” Chase assured her. “This is just a formality. You’re not nervous, are you?”
She felt the hammered metal that hung around her neck. She didn’t need the ring anymore, or even the remnants of it, but every once in a while she liked to touch the symbol of her power. Just like she occasionally brushed her fingers over the butt of the baby Glock at her hip—another symbol of power.
“Not nervous about seeing Lucy, but meeting all these other legendary Bullet Catchers.”
“No legends allowed,” Chase said with a smile. “Well, Romero thinks he’s a legend, but he’s off in the rain forest on an assignment with Jazz, his wife. And you met Max Roper out in San Francisco, and he’s a pussycat.”
“He’s a grizzly bear.”
“That’s an act. Ask Cori, his better half. And today you’ll meet Sage Valentine, since she’ll officially be your boss.”
“Has she worked for Lucy a long time?”
“She used to be an investigative reporter in Boston, but gave it up to move here and learn the business as Lucy’s right hand. She lives with Johnny Christiano, who, if we’re really lucky, is in the kitchen cooking. Although he might be on an assignment; I’m not sure.”
He curled around the last big bend to the circle in front of the mansion. It was even more impressive up close, a stunning blend of old-world Tudor and sleek, modern design.
“Dan’s here,” Chase said, indicating a late-model sedan as he parked close to the house. “That’s no surprise; he’s the closest thing Lucy has to a partner, although she’d never admit it.”
Arianna quelled a little shiver of anticipation and, yes, nerves. “I thought I was going to be alone.”
“You’re never alone.” He leaned across the console and kissed her cheek. “You may be the Bullet Catcher’s official crime psychic, but you travel with me. That’s the deal.”
“I love that deal.” She slid her hand around his neck and pulled him closer. “And I love you.”
This kiss was long, deep, and wonderfully familiar. “I love you back,” he murmured against her lips.
A hard knock on the window startled them both, and her door was pulled open before they broke the kiss.
Arianna turned to the intruder, who crouched by the car, grinning. A mane of honey hair brushed wide shoulders, and golden-brown eyes twinkled above the slant of chiseled cheekbones and two outrageous dimples.
“G’day, mate.” He stroked the tuft of golden hair that grew under his full lower lip, the move revealing a glimmer of gold in his earlobe. “Guess nobody told you that window right there”— he nodded toward a second-story gable—“is Lucy’s library. She’s watching, and I happen to know she frowns on her employees pashing around in the drive.”
Chase laughed, leaning forward to reach out his hand. “Hey, Fletch. This is Arianna Killian, our newest recruit. Arianna, meet Adrien Fletcher, the wild and reckless Tasmanian devil.”
Fletch winked at her and stood to an impressive height, opening the door wider for her. “None of that is true, except the geography. Welcome aboard, Arianna. I heard you’re bringing a completely new capability to our arsenal. You’ll love us all.”
Chase climbed out and sent a meaningful look over the roof of the car. “She’ll love some more than others.”
“Dan, probably,” Fletch said. “He’s the heartbreaker.”
Arianna smiled. “I imagine you’ve shattered a few.”
“But they’ve enjoyed every minute of it. C’mon, now.” He cocked his head toward the house. “Mustn’t keep the mistress waiting.”
Flanked by the charming Tasmanian flirt and her very own Rocket Man, Arianna headed toward the house. As they reached the entrance the door opened, and Arianna actually had to stop.
She’d forgotten that Lucy Sharpe was flat-out breathtaking.
She stood almost six feet tall, probably more in her signature mile-high heels, with thick, straight black hair draping over her shoulders, nearly to her waist. With the hint of an Asian tilt, her eyes nearly took over her exotic features, but it was the snow-white streak in the front of her hair that made Lucy not only beautiful, but distinctive.
“Arianna,” she said, reaching both hands out. “We are so happy to have you join the Bullet Catchers.”
Arianna touched the precious metal around her neck, glanced at the man she loved, then accepted Lucy’s warm embrace. On her back, she felt Chase’s solid, comforting hand as he guided her forward, into her whole new life.
“Thank you, Lucy. I’m going to be very happy here.”
Some things, she just knew.