Dear Reader,

Nocturne Falls has become a magical place for so many people, myself included. Over and over I’ve heard from you that it’s a town you’d love to visit and even live in! I can tell you that writing the books is just as much fun for me.

With your enthusiasm for the series in mind – and your many requests for more books – the Nocturne Falls Universe was born. It’s a project near and dear to my heart, and one I am very excited about.

I hope these new, guest-authored books will entertain and delight you. And best of all, I hope they allow you to discover some great new authors! (And if you like this book, be sure to check out the rest of the Nocturne Falls Universe offerings.)

For more information about the Nocturne Falls Universe, visit http://kristenpainter.com/sugar-skull-books/

In the meantime, happy reading!

Kristen Painter

Welcome to Nocturne Falls, the town where Halloween is celebrated 365 days a year. The tourists all think it’s a show: the vampires, the werewolves, the witches, the occasional gargoyles flying through the sky. But the supernaturals populating the town know better.

Living in Nocturne Falls means being yourself. Fangs, fur, and all.

Psychic Mallory Vaughn loves her neat, organized life as a manicurist at Nocturne Falls’ busiest salon. Things are going great until Jordan—her train wreck of a twin—lands on Mallory’s doorstep with a suitcase full of trouble.

Cyrus Barker is a genie who belongs to a small-town sheriff and the man’s entrepreneur wife. When Jordan wins an unwinnable jackpot from the wife, the couple dispatches Cyrus to get the money and bring Jordan back. He follows Jordan to the strangest town he’s ever seen. To make matters worse, he loses Jordan, but finds her twin, Mallory—and is immediately entranced by her.

The last thing Mallory wants is to be part of her sister’s chaos, but if she doesn’t divert the sexy genie’s attention, Jordan will stay long enough to unravel Mallory’s entire world. When Jordan disappears, Mallory’s forced to join forces with her sister’s arch enemy in order to save her. As long as she can avoid falling for Cyrus, it’ll all work out.

But love has other plans…

THE GENIE’S DOUBLE TROUBLE

A Nocturne Falls Universe Story

Copyright © 2017 by Wynter Daniels

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.

This book is a work of fiction and was made possible by a special agreement with Sugar Skull Books, but hasn’t been reviewed or edited by Kristen Painter. All characters, events, scenes, plots and associated elements appearing in the original Nocturne Falls series remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Kristen Painter, Sugar Skull Books and their affiliates or licensors.

Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author or Sugar Skull Books.

Published in the United States of America.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

About the Author

Also by Wynter Daniels

Dedication

This book is dedicated to all the readers who open a romance story searching for a happily ever after.

Chapter One

Cyrus Barker sensed trouble. His master was arguing with his wife. How could two people who were free to live how they wished, and love whomever they wanted be so unhappy? He touched the doorknob but remained outside of the sheriff’s home office.

“Don’t waste a wish on this,” Sheriff Pfeifer said from inside the room. “We still have two wishes left. We can ask Cyrus for something else. The ten thousand dollars that woman won isn’t the end of the world.”

“Won? How about stole? It’s the principle, Winston.” Yanira, the sheriff’s wife, huffed loudly. “That girl…that charlatan swindled me out of the jackpot money that no one should have been able to win. I will not have some…some nobody make a fool of me. If you’d do what I ask and tell Cyrus that your wish is for a huge pot of cash, well that’d make me feel a little better.”

“We’ve discussed this, Yanira. I’m an elected official. How would we explain that we suddenly came into some huge sum? There’s no line item on tax forms for money obtained from a wish granted by a genie.”

“You’re such a darn rule follower,” she said.

Cyrus had granted their first wish almost a year ago—which was to make their failing restaurant hugely successful. Not only was the Firefly Restaurant now the hottest eatery in the county, but they’d opened another one in nearby Charlotte, and were about to break ground on a third location just outside of Raleigh. That should have been enough for Yanira, but obviously, it wasn’t. Hopefully it would be a while before they decided on their final wish. Living in the small apartment over the Pfeifer’s garage for the past few months was preferable to his lamp. So many of his past masters had made all three of their wishes in a matter of days, or even hours, forcing Cyrus to return to the isolation of his lamp.

Of course, there were worse fates than spending most of his time in the dream-like existence that genies experienced while inside their lamps. But to be completely free… What a wonderful life that would be. What purpose did it serve to dwell on what could never be? He’d resigned himself to his fate long ago, although that didn’t stop him from yearning for freedom from the chains of being a genie.

He forced his thoughts to the here and now, and knocked on the door.

Winston cleared his throat. “Come in.”

Yanira gave Cyrus her usual tight smile as he entered. “Good morning, Cyrus.” She smoothed her hand over her short brown helmet-like hair and glanced behind him. “I thought Truffle was with you. I haven’t seen her today.”

Yanira’s Yorkie was forever getting underfoot, or barking for food or—more likely—attention. Since that never seemed to bother Yanira or Winston, Cyrus had taken up the task of setting out the pooch’s kibble every morning, and going a few rounds of fetch with her. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her either.” Truffle had probably slipped out of the house again. Could he blame her, though? If he thought the pup could survive in the wild, he’d have liberated her a long time ago. No creature should have to live its life tied up most of the time. It was merely another prison, just like his life as a genie.

As soon as they were finished with this meeting, he’d go find the pup. No one else would. He wondered why they’d bought the dog in the first place. Yanira seemed to put the animal in the same category as her newest designer shoes or purse.

Every time Cyrus found the dog tethered to the stake and chain in the backyard, he removed the collar, and brought her inside the house. “Did you leave her tied in the yard again?”

Yanira shrugged off his question like a scratchy sweater. “I’m sure she’s around here somewhere. We have more important things to discuss.” Lifting a drawn-on eyebrow, she leveled a pointed stare at her husband. “Isn’t that right, Winston?”

At six-foot-one, Winston Pfeifer somehow managed to appear short in the presence of his petite wife. He coughed and scratched the gray stubble on the side of his face. “Um, yes. That’s right. Have a seat, Cyrus.” Winston folded his lanky frame into the swivel chair behind the antique desk, and waited for his wife to sit, but Yanira remained standing with her arms crossed.

The furniture throughout the house was way more suited to Yanira’s diminutive stature than Cyrus’s, or her husband’s. Cyrus made himself as comfortable as he could on the narrow floral-patterned sofa, and helped himself to a handful of jellybeans from the bowl on the coffee table. Sweets were his weakness, thanks to numerous long stints inside his lamp without access to pleasures like candy, cake, and ice cream.

Winston combed his fingers through his thick, salt and pepper hair. “It’s been quite a while since we asked for our first wish.”

“And we’ve graciously allowed you to live on our property.” Yanira’s chin jutted forward.

Graciously allowed him? He was basically a slave, a three-trick pony that they could call upon when they wanted something. “I appreciate your hospitality.” Although Cyrus suspected that Yanira preferred to keep him where she could easily find him. That way when she needed some chore done, all she had to do was ask, rather than have Winston summon him from his lamp, and use up one of his precious wishes. Not that he minded helping out with household duties. And he could keep an eye on Truffle, make sure that Yanira’s captive canine was fed. And loved.

Besides, Cyrus had had some terrible masters over the centuries. Winston and Yanira were better than Sir Desmond La Roche, a seventeenth century nobleman who’d used his wishes to cheat farmers out of their property, and to lure a group of unsuspecting prostitutes to his keep, where he’d gone on to make them his own personal stable of sex slaves—something Cyrus hadn’t learned until many years later when he read about the unscrupulous nobleman. La Roche had even asked Cyrus to kill one of his enemies. Thankfully, that particularly cruel wish was outside the limits of what genies are allowed to do.

Winston rubbed his hands together. “We’ve had an unfortunate outcome to the restaurant’s Guess the Number of Jelly Beans promotion, which was meant only to be a way of getting customers to come into the Firefly Restaurants.”

Cyrus had heard them discussing details of that particular marketing ploy for their adult arcade-style restaurants. “Unfortunate?”

Yanira rolled her eyes. “Get to the point, Winston. He doesn’t need all the details. The longer that woman is allowed to keep the jackpot money, the worse. I mean, it makes it harder to get it back.”

Her husband frowned. “Yanira suspects that the young lady who correctly guessed the number of jelly beans somehow cheated in order to win the ten thousand-dollar jackpot.”

“I know that’s what she did. And the idiot restaurant manager here in Vail Lake handed her the cash right then and there,” Yanira said. “Remind me to fire him, Winston. Of course, she immediately cashed it. What does that tell you?”

That the woman was thrilled to get the money. “What makes you so sure she cheated?”

Yanira threw back her head and groaned. “For heaven’s sake, Cyrus. She couldn’t possibly have come up with the answer. I know this girl, and she’s never struck me as particularly bright.”

Yanira didn’t strike him as particularly bright, so her assessment of the winner didn’t impress him. He took out his cell phone and opened the note-taking app. “What’s the young lady’s name, and what do you know about her?”

“Jordan,” Yanira answered. “I don’t know her last name. She works at the dog groomer where we take Truffle, The Doggie Do.”

He typed in the info, but the reminder that the Yorkie still hadn’t made an appearance gave him pause. “I’ll head over there after I find Truffle.”

Yanira clenched her fists at her sides. “The damn dog will turn up. I want that money back.”

Cyrus stood and turned his attention to his Winston. “So that’s your wish?”

“Hold on,” Winston said. “The sheriff can’t go around demanding winnings back from someone. Nor can we employ any illegal, immoral or unethical means to get it. There’d be too many questions to answer.”

How ironic that the man had no qualms about using a genie to get what he wanted, which was basically a form of servitude or slavery.

Winston rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Why’d you offer the jackpot if you weren’t prepared to part with the money, Yanira?”

She scowled at him. “No one could have come up with the right answer, unless they were…I don’t know, clairvoyant or something.”

“I can’t risk my job, sweetheart.” Winston gave his head a heavy shake. “It isn’t that much money. We could be in big trouble if—”

“Winston,” Yanira ground out. “It’s the principle. She cheated. I don’t know how, but I intend to find out.”

She met Cyrus’s stare. “His wish is for you to bring Jordan to me, along with the money. We’ll take it from there.”

“Just don’t do anything illegal,” Winston said. “I take my position as a lawman seriously.”

Yanira’s growl reminded him of what Truffle sounded like when he played tug of war with her. “Yes, yes, yes. Don’t worry. No one’s going to take away your gold star or your dingy little office at Vail Lake Town Hall.”

The sheriff’s lips flattened to a tight line but he remained silent.

Cyrus waited for his master to say the words.

Several moments ticked past before Winston spoke the request. “Fine. My wish is for you to bring this Jordan woman—”

“And the money,” Yanira added.

“And the money,” Winston parroted. “Bring them here, to me.”

“As you wish, master.” Tucking his phone into his pocket, he left the room and headed outside. Before getting into the old truck they let him use, he checked the yard for Truffle. The gate was unlocked, and the chain lay on the concrete deck next to a set of French doors that led to the Pfeifers’ lavish living room, like an open-air dungeon in view of the palace.

His chest tightened as he strode from the yard to search the neighborhood for the dog. After a little while with no luck, he had no choice but to leave. The pull to fulfil a master’s wish was, for a genie, a lot like having an addiction. He was compelled to make it happen.

Checking his phone for The Doggie Do pet grooming shop in Vail Lake, North Carolina, he punched the address into his GPS app. Less than ten minutes later he parked in front of the white picket fence surrounding the business.

Inside, he found the tall reception desk unmanned, so he rang the bell on the counter, but he doubted anyone heard it over the incessant barking from the back. While he waited, he helped himself to some white and green mints from a jar on the counter. He hit the bell again then lingered for another minute before poking his head through the curtains behind the reception area.

A middle-aged woman with coffee-colored skin and neon-blue glasses smiled at him. “Hello.” She led a fluffy dog into a crate. “Sorry, we’re short staffed today. Can I help you?”

He scanned the room, but there were only a bunch of cages filled with dogs, and one long-haired cat in a carrier. “I was looking for Jordan.”

The woman frowned. “You and me both. She didn’t show up for work yesterday, and hasn’t responded to my messages.” She locked the crate and stood taller, setting her hands on her hips as she looked him over from head to toe. Her glasses slipped down her nose a little. “You wouldn’t want a job, would you? I could use a big strong guy around here.” She threw him a wink.

Her come-on was flattering but he hadn’t been attracted to anyone in a long, long time. Why bother? Lust and love were only for those with the freedom to pursue relationships. Didn’t matter how much he wanted that for himself. It would never be. “Thanks, but I’m already…under contract. So you saw Jordan last the day before yesterday?”

Nodding, the woman opened another cage and walked a shiatsu toward one of the two bathtubs near the back wall. “What are you, a cop or something? Is she in trouble?”

“Something like that, but she isn’t in any trouble.” Not yet, anyway. “I’d just like to speak to her. Has she been working here long?”

She pursed her lips. “Hmm. A month, maybe two.”

“Would you have a picture of her?”

“Just on my phone.” The woman secured the shih tzu to a leash near the tub then wiped her hands on a towel. “Want to see?”

“Mind sending it to me?”

She grinned. “Sure, honey. Give me your number.”

After he did, he thanked her for her time and was about to leave when he thought of one more question. “Sheriff Pfeifer and his wife bring their dog here for grooming, right?”

She pursed her lips. “Truffle, yes. She’s one of my favorites. Jordan’s, too. She adores that dog. Talks about her even when Truffle’s not here.” Then she sighed. “Poor little dog.”

He eyed the woman. “Why do you say that?”

“I feel sorry for her. So did Jordan. Truffle’s like the kid whose parents always forget to pick them up after school. No one seems to give a damn about her. Except Jordan and I.”

Could Jordan have stolen Truffle? Was that why no one could find her? “One more thing.”

The woman lifted her brow. “Yes?”

“What’s her full name?”

She pursed her lips. “Jordan Vaughn. If she has a middle name, she never told me what it is.”

“Thanks for your help.” He left the store and climbed into his pickup. His cell buzzed with a message. It was a photo of a twenty-five-ish blonde holding a Yorkie. He made the image larger. Not just any Yorkie. That was Truffle. If he wasn’t mistaken, the picture was taken inside the dog grooming shop. Clearly, this Jordan was enamored with Truffle, judging by the way she hugged the dog close. He could hardly blame her for that.

He leaned his head against the back of the seat. If Jordan had taken Truffle, then she’d committed a crime. Yanira’s story about Jordan cheating her way into the jackpot may or may not hold water, but if the young lady was also a dog thief, she deserved to be punished. Especially since she’d stolen a dog that he happened to care about.

But he was a genie, not a cop. Judging what she’d done or why was completely out of his purview. All he could do was try to find her, and bring her to his master. Whatever happened after that was out of his control.

Chapter Two

Mallory’s client inspected the zebra-striped manicure she’d just gotten. “Gorgeous. You do that almost as well as I do. Maybe a little better.” She gave Mal a wink. “Thanks.”

Mallory painted fast-drying topcoat on her client’s fingernails. “I don’t get to stretch my nail art muscles very often here, so I should be thanking you for keeping me in practice.” She led the woman to the drying station. “Kiss that gorgeous baby of yours for me, Ivy. And say hi to Sheriff Merrow.”

“Will do.”

Mallory cleaned her table, and put away each tool and bottle she’d used. She always felt better when everything was neat and tidy. That done, she checked her appointment schedule app on her phone. Her next client wasn’t due to arrive until noon, which gave her a short break to stretch her legs. After telling the receptionist that she’d be right back, she walked outside just in time to see the tourist trolley roll past, right on time. A couple of kids onboard shrieked as the Vampire on Duty bared his fangs at them.

Mallory smiled. She loved Nocturne Falls, from the Gargoyle fountain in the middle of the town, to the Friday-night trick-or-treaters, to the Halloween-themed business names. Most of all, though, she liked her orderly, predictable life there. No surprises to upset her applecart. As she turned the corner into the alley that led to the salon’s back door, she passed Willa—a fae, and the town’s most talented jeweler—and waved to her.

She went in through the back, returning to her table with fifteen minutes to spare before her appointment, so she did a quick three-card tarot spread for herself. Maybe she could get some insight on the weird dreams she’d had the last two nights. She was sure she’d never seen the guy from her dreams before, so why had he visited her twice while she’d slept?

His emerald eyes were impossible to forget. Even now, her heart skipped a beat just thinking about them. His dark hair brushed his shoulders, and when she combed her fingers through it, she was surprised at how silky it felt. He was tall—at least six-foot-four, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. And that mouth, the shape of Eros’s bow. When he’d drawn her against him for a scorching kiss, she’d actually swooned.

Realizing she’d sighed aloud, her cheeks heated. Jeez, now she needed a cold compress.

Shaking off the distraction, she concentrated on her tarot reading. The first card she picked, which represented her past, was one that often showed up in that position for her—the three of swords. She automatically clenched her teeth. Yes, she’d suffered heartbreak and betrayal, all thanks to her twin. Never again. Now that she kept a tight rein on every aspect of her life, she’d never again be susceptible to the pain of loss, or to Jordan’s chaos.

The middle card in the spread was The Emperor. That fit for her present. She had stability and structure. She’d just closed on her own house in Pumpkin Point, a lovely new development that was only a fifteen-minute drive from the center of town. In a couple of weeks it would be ready for her and her kitten to move in.

But as she flipped over the third card—the one that signified her future—a chill rolled up her spine. The page of swords portended instability, immaturity, acting without thinking. Could her dream lover be someone she’d meet soon, someone who’d throw a monkey wrench into her life? She gulped. No, Mr. Hot-and-Sexy was merely her mind’s creation.

Perhaps the tarot card wasn’t about her, or even the guy from her dreams. In truth, it sounded more like Jordan than her. Her twin was the personification of immaturity and acting without thinking.

She flashed on a reading her friend Darcy had done for her a few months back. Jordan had showed up in that as well. Mal’s stomach twisted into knots. Last person she needed in her life was her train wreck of a sister. And most of her twin’s transgressions ended up biting Mallory—not Jordan—in the ass.

She flashed back fifteen years to the day of their thirteenth birthday party. Mallory had set up everything, from the food to the music to the decorations. She’d strung lights all through the backyard, packed goody bags full of candy, glow sticks and rubber bracelets, and arranged cool balloon centerpieces on each of the tables. It was all perfect—until Jordan dragged out her secret stash of water balloons and declared a free for all. Minutes later the yard looked like a cartoon version of The Poseidon Adventure, with shreds of soaked neon-colored crepe paper and drowned orange fish-shaped crackers everywhere.

As usual, their mother took Jordan’s side. “The important thing is that you and your friends had a good time,” she said.

Only Mallory hadn’t. Her hard work and planning had gone down in a tidal wave of typical Jordan bedlam.

Snatching up the cards, she sucked in a deep breath then let it out slowly, trying to expel the tension that always accompanied any thoughts about her twin. She hadn’t heard from Jordan in a year, which was just fine. The longer she didn’t have to deal with her, the better.

“Bad reading?” Darcy asked from the neighboring manicure table.

Mallory shrugged one shoulder. “It’s probably nothing.”

Darcy crooked her finger at Mallory. “My soon-to-be mother-in-law is running late. Let me give you a quickie.”

Tamping down her apprehension, she moved to her best friend’s station and opened her palm.

Darcy switched on the desk lamp and pulled Mallory’s hand closer. Her friend’s eyes glazed over, as they often did when she looked into the future. “I sense trouble ahead, very soon.”

Mallory gulped. “What kind of trouble?”

“I can’t tell exactly, but it’s something of a very personal nature. Not job related, or anything to do with your new house.” Darcy traced her index finger along Mallory’s hand, and narrowed her dark eyes. “Hmm. I don’t recall noticing this before.”

“What?”

She tapped the area just below Mallory’s pinky. “See this line?”

Mal nodded. “What is it?”

“It shows how many kids you’ll have. Yours ends in a V. Looks like you’ll have twins someday.”

Yanking her hand back, Mallory shook her head. “Oh no I won’t.” She had no desire to recreate some lopsided family where one twin could do no wrong, and the other was blamed for everything that went wrong. Besides, she’d sworn off serious relationships for good. Marriage and kids definitely were not in her future. After her high school boyfriend had cheated with Jordan, Mallory had nursed her wounds for several years. When she’d finally recovered from that betrayal enough to try again, the guy she fell in love with turned out to be married to a woman in another state.

Nope, no love and all that went with it for her. No, thank you. “I’m sure that’s wrong,” she told Darcy. “You must be seeing evidence of my sister. We’re twins.” And since this was the second time her sister had showed up in one of her readings, she was sure it meant that Jordan was about to reenter her life. Just great.

Darcy shook her head. “I doubt that.” Before she could argue more, Gloria Reed—Darcy’s fiancé’s mother—interrupted them. Gloria leaned down and wrapped Darcy in a big hug. “Afternoon, sweetheart.” She gave Mallory a warm smile. “Nice to see you too, dear.”

“I’ll be with you in a couple minutes,” Darcy told Gloria.

Mallory pushed out of the seat and held it for the older woman. “We’re done. Have a seat, Mrs. Reed.”

“Let’s finish,” Darcy said.

“No, it’s fine.” She’d heard enough. The wrecking ball named Jordan was heading her way with all the usual bedlam that followed her, and there was nothing she could do to stop the turmoil from crashing through her world.

Two days after Yanira and Winston had made their wish, Cyrus was finally closing in on the elusive Jordan Vaughn, or Mary L. Lamb—the name she’d used to register at the northeast Georgia motel where she’d stayed last night, and where the husky-voiced woman behind the front desk was rambling about what a shame it was that none of the guests stayed more than a single day. The fact that the motel was in the middle of nowhere might have had something to do with that.

He’d just missed her, according to the clerk, but the middle-aged redhead informed him that “Mary” had arrived well after midnight, which was probably why she’d checked out right at eleven am, and narrowly avoided having to pay for another night. Then the woman rattled on for several minutes about how ladies rarely traveled alone until recently, and how dangerous that could be. “This one paid me cash though, a nice, crisp Ben Franklin.” She lit a cigarette. “Stuck it right into my piggy bank.”

Spotting a candy machine next to the counter, Cyrus loaded a five-dollar bill into the slot for two Snickers bars, fishing out the treats the moment they dropped down into the well. “Any idea which way she’s headed?”

“Ain’t none of my business.” The clerk lowered her voice and leaned closer, even though they were alone in the small office. “I don’t ask, and they usually don’t tell. But she turned outta here in a cute little blue Smart Car, and started west on Highway 76.”

“Okay, thanks.” He handed her a twenty and tried to tune out her rant about why said cars weren’t smart at all.

She slipped the money into her bra, hacking as if she’d cough up a lung at any moment. “Why don’t people just buy a darn hybrid? And blue would be my last choice for a car. Silver is a way more superior color for any vehicle.”

His head started pounding. “Thanks for the information.” He backed toward the door, yearning for escape from the smoke-infused air.

“I had me a silver El Camino back in the day.” Her eyes glazed over as she waxed poetic about her dream car. “Prettiest car I ever seen.”

“Right. Have a good day.” With a wave, he made it out, and strode to the truck.

That talkative clerk had also revealed that Ms. Lamb was traveling with a dog, although she couldn’t say what kind because the pup wasn’t with her when she’d gone into the office to pay for the room. Of course, that in itself didn’t prove she’d stolen Yanira’s Yorkie. Could have been any dog, although he was pretty sure it was Truffle.

He pushed the truck as hard as he could on the highway, hoping the clerk had been correct about Jordan going west. Knowing the description of the vehicle she drove gave him a huge leg up on finding her. Or so he’d thought. But more than two hours after he left the motel, he hadn’t spotted a single blue Smart Car. With hardly any traffic on the road, Jordan should have been easy to find, unless she had a lead foot, and was driving a lot faster than he was.

As the terrain grew hillier, the scenery became more rural. Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Free Bird came on the radio, and he sang along. He couldn’t imagine how wonderful being as free as a bird would feel, how ecstatic he’d be to escape the tethers of his constant servitude. He tugged at the collar of his shirt.

Lowering the windows in the truck, he let the wind rush through his hair.

Independence must feel like that, but every moment of every day.

After a long stretch of nothingness, he passed a gas station, and lady luck smiled upon him. The tiny blue car at one of the pumps must be Jordan’s. He exited the highway and doubled back toward the station. All he had to do was convince her to go with him, which—using a little magic—would be a breeze.

His stomach growled at him. While he was there, he could pick up a soda and a few doughnuts. But by the time he turned into the station, she was pulling back onto the highway.

Cursing under his breath, he followed her. He’d missed an opportunity to get the face-to-face time he needed to use his power of persuasion, one of his most useful forms of magic. On the other hand, though, he had her in his sight.

Be patient. She had to pull over again at some point.

Another hour and a half passed as the road wended through lush, green mountains and alongside a sparkling lake. The ride was one of the more scenic he’d ever experienced, particularly the higher elevations, where several waterfalls were visible from the road.

When his mark took a right turn onto a two-lane road, he stayed with her, hanging back several car lengths. A few miles later she slowed her speed as a town came into view in the distance. Could that be her destination?

A sign on the side of the road said, “Welcome to Nocturne Falls—Where Every Day is Halloween.” What in the world did that mean? Weird.

He didn’t have to wait long to find out. As he followed the Smart Car along a main drag, he did a double take at some of the buildings, which seemed to be deliberately angled, giving them a rickety appearance. The streetlamps had metal brackets in the shape of cobwebs, and most of the stores were painted orange or black, some with purple or green accents. The majority of the businesses he saw had themed names like, “Howler’s” and “Hats in a Belfry” and “The Hair Scare.”

He rolled past a faded red-brick, three-story building with icicles hanging from the eaves, even though it was a balmy seventy-eight degrees out, according to the thermometer over a bank. And he could have sworn it was snowing—inside the store on the first floor. Through the frosted windows of “Santa’s Workshop” he glimpsed someone that looked like an elf, complete with blue hair and pointy ears.

A gargoyle statue stood in the center of a fountain, and a man dressed as a vampire—complete with black cape and fangs—waved to a trolley as it passed. Except the guy wasn’t merely dressing the part—he actually was a vampire.

Weird didn’t begin to describe this town. Being a genie, he was aware of many supernatural beings, but he’d never seen a place with such a concentration of them.

A wonderful sweet aroma wafted through the truck’s air vents. His sweet tooth pulled his attention to a store on the left side of the street called “Delaney’s Delectables.” He gaped at the sugary bounty in the windows—mile-high cakes, gooey pastries, frosted cupcakes, brownies and more. His empty stomach growled again. He yearned to devour everything there. If only Jordan would pull over soon. Then he could persuade her to go back to Vail Lake, with a pit stop at Delaney’s Delectables before their trip.

Jordan! Where had she gone? He’d been seduced by the sights and smells of the bakery, and now he’d lost her. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and ground his teeth. What now?

She must have turned off the street, but where? Circling the block, he searched for her car. No luck. He took a right on Black Cat Boulevard. No Jordan. She couldn’t have vanished into thin air.

He spent the next hour scouring the strange downtown area, looking through store windows for her. Hunger started gnawing at his concentration. Returning to Delaney’s Delectables, he went inside and bought a sampling of the decadent offerings; a chocolate and raspberry truffle, a peanut butter cupcake with grape jelly icing, and a butterscotch blondie. Just enough for a quick sugar rush.

He resumed his search, munching on the heavenly goodies as he walked the downtown in a grid pattern. Finally, out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed a blonde wearing a bright turquoise blouse disappear down a dark alley that cut between two buildings. Had to be her.

On the hunch, he stashed his sunglasses in his pocket and headed to the alley. The clang of a metal door reverberated in the space. Following the sound, he hurried to the end—a dead end. Both the unmarked doors were locked. But there was more than one way to skin a cat. He winced at the awful expression, one he’d heard Yanira use.

When he went around to the front of the building, he found both businesses there closed. Misty’s Boo-Tique was on the left, and The Hair Scare occupied the larger space on the right. A sign in the window of the salon listed their hours. They were only open until four pm on Saturdays, and closed on Sundays. The boutique had a similar schedule.

Cyrus checked the time on his phone. It was almost six, and all he’d eaten was a few sweets—albeit, amazing ones. No wonder he was so hungry. And if he was, Jordan probably was, too. She’d likely chosen this strange town because she knew people here. It stood to reason that if she did, some locals would know her, too.

Hoping to kill two birds with one stone—another of Yanira’s animal-abuse expressions—he drove to the end of Main Street and parked at the bar and grill he’d passed earlier, Howler’s. Judging by how full the lot was, the place was quite popular. He confirmed that assumption when he pushed through the door. There were only a few empty stools at the bar, and customers were packed in the back room—which held pool tables and such—like sardines.

He opted for the bar, nodding a greeting at the auburn-haired bartender.

She wiped down the spot that had just been vacated by a young woman he would swear had pointy ears. Probably another of the quirky town’s costumed characters. “What can I get for you?” the bartender asked him.

A beer would hit the spot, although all genies had a very low tolerance to alcohol, and he was no exception. “Sweet tea, please.”

She filled a tall glass with ice then added the tea and topped it with a lemon wedge before setting it on a coaster for him. “I’m Bridget, by the way. Want to see a menu? I’ve got my prime rib sandwiches on special. It comes with fries and coleslaw. The best in town.”

Hunger pangs reminded him how long he’d gone without real food. “I’ll take two.”

“Good choice.” The woman didn’t even blink before walking away. She spoke to three or four other customers as she worked her way to the other end of the bar, obviously people she knew. Yeah, she might be a good person to ask about Jordan. He woke his phone and pulled up the picture of her that the lady from the grooming shop had sent him.

When Bridget returned with two plates piled high, Cyrus inhaled the aromas of grilled onions and steak sauce.

She set a bottle of ketchup down for him. “Can I get you anything else?”

He turned his phone for her to see. “I’m searching for an old friend. Do you know her?”

Bridget gave the picture a cursory glance then fixed him with eyes a little more gold than they’d been a moment before. “I see a lot of people through here.”

He pulled out two twenty-dollar bills and set them on the bar, but she just grinned.

“Her name is Jordan,” he said.

Bridget raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “I don’t know a Jordan.” She walked away to serve another customer.

As Cyrus ate his dinner, he considered the bartender’s response. He had the feeling that she’d initially been familiar with the photo of Jordan, so why had she clammed up after that? Maybe he ought to take another approach.

He finished his tea then caught Bridget’s eye and slid the glass toward her side of the bar. She nodded and headed over. “Let me get you a refill.”

When she returned with his drink, he thanked her, and noticed her perfectly polished fingernails. Maybe she could tell him something about that salon he’d seen, where he thought he’d glimpsed Jordan. “Must be tough to keep up a manicure with what you do here,” he said.

Bridget glanced at her candy-apple red nails and grinned. “Just got them done this morning. I don’t usually bother since my hands are in water every day, but I’ve got a late date tonight with my guy.”

His fishing expedition had worked. “Lucky man. I saw the salon in town, the one next door to that ladies boutique. Looks like a nice place.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Which, Misty’s Boo-Tique, or the Hair Scare?” She held up a hand to stop him from answering. “Wait, don’t tell me. Are you looking for a new ensemble? Misty’s might not carry your size.” She threw him a wink.

He chuckled. “I was referring to the salon. I could use a haircut.”

She picked up the plate that he’d practically licked clean. “Amethyst does my hair. She’s great. Can’t miss her. She’s got long, purple hair. While you’re there you can have your fortune read. Nearly everyone who works there does some type of psychic reading, from tarot to palmistry to scrying. That’s one of their specialties.”

Interesting combination. “I appreciate the tip. With a little luck, maybe one of the psychics can tell me where to find my friend.”

“Hmm.” Bridget walked off, loading more dishes on her arm on her way to the kitchen.

Could Jordan have been in search of a psychic reading? Was that why she’d gone to the salon? If she’d even been the person he’d seen who’d disappeared in the alley. Or perhaps she’d been trying to do some shopping at the boutique, maybe in search of a different look, since she was on the lam with Truffle. Either way, he didn’t plan to wait until Monday when both businesses reopened. He had to find Jordan before she slipped away again.

By the time he left Howler’s, night had fallen, and the town appeared even more magical. All the buildings were aglow with twinkling fairy lights, and the town center came alive with costumed performers—a werewolf, a vampire, elves and fairies.

Cyrus parked his truck on a side street, and made his way back to the salon building. Couples strode past, hand-in-hand, a young family pushing a baby stroller, and two women dressed as witches, complete with pointy black hats. Way too much foot traffic for him to slip unnoticed inside either the boutique or the salon, at least through the front.

He circled around the building to the alley then used magic to transport himself inside the salon. He found himself in a small room with laundry facilities, cabinets and a long counter. Pushing through a swinging door, he entered a much larger space shaped like an L. Hair stations lined one wall, each decorated a little different from the others. Using the flashlight on his cell, he checked out the photos in the framed licenses on the wall next to each mirror. One belonged to the purple-haired woman Bridget had mentioned.

Just inside the front door there was a large reception desk and a display case full of beauty products. Around the short side of the L were two manicure tables. One license held a picture of a pretty dark-haired woman. The other showed a blonde. He leaned in closer to get a better look. The photo was tiny, and not the best quality, but he would swear it was the same woman from the picture on his phone. Only the name said Mallory Vaughn, not Jordan Vaughn. He smelled a rat.

He scratched his head in the empty salon. Whatever she was calling herself, this woman was definitely the one he’d been following. And if she made use of an alias, maybe Yanira had been right. The woman was probably a criminal or a con artist.

All he had to do now was stake out the salon and wait for her to appear.

Chapter Three

Mallory reached into her trunk and grabbed a few of the moving boxes she’d picked up from the Shop-n-Save, but before she could make it to the door of her rental cottage, the skies opened up. She ran the rest of the way. Too slow. The cardboard was already wet and droopy. So much for packing up her bookshelf and knick-knacks as she’d planned for tonight. Soon enough, though, she’d be living in her new house, which had an attached garage, and she’d never have to dodge raindrops to her front door again.

Pushing her key into the lock, she ventured a glance into the narrow window next to the door, expecting to see Hazel. Strange that the kitten wasn’t there. Maybe the storm had frightened her. Still, a kernel of worry took root in the pit of her stomach.

Leaving the soaked boxes on the tiny porch, she opened the door and slipped off her wet shoes on the welcome mat. “Hazel? Here, kitty, kitty. Mommy’s home.” She waited, listened. Only the steady beat of raindrops hitting the roof greeted her.

A shiver rolled over her damp skin, and her sixth sense awoke. She took a few steps toward the kitchen. Thunder rattled the windows. She drew a ragged breath as the uneasy feeling grew stronger, raising gooseflesh on her skin. “Hazel?” She made her way around the moving boxes she’d already packed, and flipped on the kitchen light switch.

Droplets of water, and some pale yellow crumbs on the counter near the sink caught her eye. Someone had been in her house—or still was. Heart pumping faster, she tiptoed across the small room, and reached for a knife from the block. A shadow slid across the threshold of the living room doorway. Uncomfortable heat spread through her like wildfire. She tightened her grip on the knife. “Who’s there?”

Only a clap of thunder answered. Then the familiar creak of the floorboards in the hallway.

Her legs felt like lead, but she forced herself to move. She had to get back to the foyer where she’d left her purse and her phone.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the darkened breakfast nook and the hallway beyond. A giant burst of thunder immediately followed. Hazel, slunk into the kitchen, low to the floor, eyes wide with fear.

Mallory set the knife on the counter, and scooped up the kitten. She let out the breath she’d been holding as relief washed through her. “Was that you, silly girl?” She nuzzled her face against the cat’s white fur.

Until she remembered the mess near the sink. Hazel might have been the reason for the moving shadows, and maybe even the floor creaking, but unless she was a housecat shifter, she hadn’t been responsible for the water and the crumbs.

Gulping, Mal picked the knife back up and craned her neck to see around the corner into the living room.

Suddenly a rhythmic tapping started in another part of the cottage. It was coming closer. And a metallic jingle with the same beat.

Pulse pounding in her ears, Mal made a dash to the front hallway. She dumped out the contents of her purse on the welcome mat, and grabbed her phone. With trembling fingers she entered the passcode to unlock it, but apparently the wrong one. She tamped down a frustrated growl and tried again. Before she could complete the emergency call, a small dog scampered out of the kitchen and barked at her. What the…? It was one of those frou-frou breeds, a Yorkie maybe. But where had it come from? Was the pup her intruder? She held her phone, poised to hit Send.

Hazel leaped out of her arms. The cat and dog started playing like old pals.

Mallory crouched to check the pooch for some identification, but its rhinestone-studded gold-tone collar only had a rabies tag and a small bell. She scratched the dog’s head. “Who do you belong to, doggie? And how’d you get into my house?”

Wind howled outside, and the din of the storm grew louder. The hair on the back of Mallory’s neck stood on end.

Something bad is coming.

Lightning flickered blue, and a second later more thunder crackled through the air. Catching a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye, she whipped her head toward the kitchen. A figure stood there. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest.

Jordan!

Dread pressed on her chest like an unbearably heavy weight.

Her twin’s hair was wrapped in a towel, turban style on top of her head. Blue eyes—identical to her own—stared at her. And she was wearing Mallory’s running shorts and white tank top.

Jordan closed the distance between them as if she expected a hug and a warm welcome, but stopped a few feet away and clasped her hands. “I see you’ve met my dog. She and your kitty were fast friends.” Hazel told me that she really likes you, by the way, and that she’s grateful to you for choosing her from the animal rescue. Oh, and she likes the name Hazel.”

Mallory’s jaw automatically clenched as she scooped the feline into her arms. “What are you doing here, Jordan? And how’d you get in?”

“Vacationing. And I got in using the key that you left under the mat at the back door. Hazel told me she’d heard you put it there.” She set her hands on her hips. “Please tell me that you’re over being mad at me. I mean, we’re family. We share way too much to stay on the outs for so long.”

“On the outs?” Mallory inhaled deeply and shut her eyes for a moment, trying to channel Stevie, her meditation guru. The knots strangling her insides refused to loosen despite the calming mantra she silently chanted. She continued to try.

Peace is within my reach. Peace is within my reach.

“High school was a long time ago.” Jordan hoisted herself onto the counter. “I know what I did was wrong. How many times must I apologize before you let it go?” The dog attempted to climb up to Jordan’s shins, so she hopped down and lifted it into her arms, giving it a kiss. “Tom wasn’t right for you anyway.”

“So you were doing me a favor, huh? And you seem to have forgotten that you destroyed my life a second time, a little more recently.” Sharp pain stabbed behind her forehead. She unclenched her fists. No sense letting her sister get under her skin. “You need to leave, and not just my house. This town isn’t big enough for both of us.”

“Jeez, Mal. You sound like one of those spaghetti westerns Grandpa Hersh used to watch.” Jordan set the dog at her feet. “Come on. I need a place to stay. It’ll only be for a few days. I’ll even pay you rent if you want. In cash.” She took Mallory’s hand. “I promise I’ll behave myself. Please?”

Mallory shrugged her off then put down the kitten, and folded her arms over her chest. “Absolutely not. And by the way, you tricking Tom into thinking that you were me and then sleeping with him was more than just wrong. It was mean and selfish, and a hundred percent Jordan.”

Her twin winced.

“And I want my clothes back.” The fact that her sister had gone through her dresser to find them irritated Mallory to no end. Realizing that her jaw was tightly clenched, she made a conscious effort to relax, which was almost impossible under the circumstances.

“I’ve changed, Mal. I wish you’d give me a chance.” She crouched down to pet Hazel, and the traitorous cat began purring loudly. “I hate that we haven’t been part of each other’s lives lately. I really miss you.” Standing, she huffed. “Hazel wants me to stay. Besides, she’s lonely while you’re gone all day, and she already loves my Yorkie.”

Mallory rolled her eyes. There was no telling if her sister was making that up. Even though they were identical twins, their supernatural gifts were different. Jordan wasn’t psychic, but she’d always been able to communicate telepathically with most animals. “Hazel is fine. I play with her a lot when I get home from work.”

Jordan’s throat twitched with a swallow, and a deep furrow settled on her brow. “Okay, I’ll be honest with you. Someone’s been following me. I’m scared, Mal. I had nowhere else to go.”

There it was. If Jordan was being followed, it was probably by some woman’s husband she’d tried to steal, or somebody else that she’d wronged. She didn’t believe for a second that her sister was innocent. “So you’re in trouble. Again.” Tension stretched between Mallory’s shoulders like a tight rubber band.

The last time Jordan had showed up in Nocturne Falls, she’d just been fired from her job at an Atlanta department store, and said she needed to “lay low” for a while. Although Mallory had suspected her twin had probably committed an illegal—or at least immoral—act to lose her job, she’d reluctantly taken her in. Jordan had sworn that she’d be on her best behavior, the perfect guest. Ha! The so-called perfect guest had been so messy that she’d caused Mallory to be kicked out of the apartment she’d shared with a friend. She shuddered, trying to block out the unpleasant memories. If anyone could throw Mallory’s life out of balance, it was her sister.

Three years ago Jordan had landed on their parents’ Miami doorstep after she’d apparently broken into a zoo in Alabama, and vandalized several cages. Their mom and dad had taken her in and hired an expensive lawyer to defend her. How could they keep believing that every time Jordan screwed up, somehow it wasn’t her fault? She was merely a victim of circumstances.

But Mallory knew better. Their parents had always cut Jordan way more slack than they had Mallory. Jordan got away with everything, while Mallory was blamed for things she hadn’t done. Jordan was the star, and Mallory the afterthought.

Now that they were adults, Mal refused to be marginalized. She was in control of her life now, and she refused to let her twin wreck everything she’d carefully built.

Jordan threaded her fingers together. “I’ll clean up after myself, and I promise I won’t snoop through your things.”

Mal couldn’t hold back a smirk. “Oh, puh-lease. You can’t help but snoop.” Bad enough that she’d been forced to share a bedroom with her twin when they were growing up. Mallory’s side was always neat as a pin, while Jordan’s had perpetually looked like the aftermath of a tornado. Even worse, Mallory hadn’t had a shred of privacy. Despite the  great lengths she’d taken to hide and lock up her diary, Jordan had managed to find it, and read it. No, she wouldn’t give in. She pointed at her sister’s ensemble. “You’ve already gone through my clothes.”

“Only minimally. These were the first items I saw. I didn’t dig through your drawers or unfold anything.” She stood taller, as if she’d accomplished some amazing feat. “I did my laundry, by the way. And I washed the stuff you had in your hamper. There wasn’t much in there, though. Oh, and I brought you a present.” She ran from the room.

Mallory rubbed her temples.

Be strong. Do not let her manipulate you this time.

Jordan returned carrying a gift bag that Mallory recognized from her own store of them, and shoved the package at her. “Open it.”

“Diversion won’t work on me.”

Huffing, Jordan rolled her eyes. “My motives are pure.”

Right. Mal didn’t believe that for a second. She pulled a bright turquoise shirt out of the bag, which was actually very pretty, and the perfect shade for her. “It’s nice. Thank you. But it doesn’t change anything. You can’t stay here.”

Jordan’s eyes misted. “Fine, I’ll find some fleabag motel or maybe a homeless shelter.” Pouting her bottom lip, she sniffled. “Can Truffle stay here at least? Just for a couple of days? I don’t want whoever’s after me to hurt a defenseless puppy. If the guy kills me, would you take care of her? Your kitty really wants a playmate.”

No, Mallory refused to buy into her sister’s doomsday scenario. The dog was pretty cute, though, and Hazel seemed to be enjoying her company. “The dog can stay. There’s an inexpensive motel just outside of town. It’s called the Pinehurst Inn. I’m sure they have a room available.” Guilt niggled at her insides for pointing her sister to the local no-tell motel, which looked pretty seedy. “Or there are a couple of Dead and Breakfasts in town. The Black Rose is the nicest.”

“Dead and Breakfast, huh?” Jordan slumped her shoulders. “Okay. I guess I’ll grab my things. Some of my clothes are still tumbling around in your dryer. I can pick them up in a few days. I’ll leave Truffle’s dogfood in the kitchen. I just pray she’ll eat after I’m gone. She’s sensitive, almost as sensitive as I am.” Wiping an imaginary tear from her cheek, she hesitated a few moments.

Mallory remained firm.

Ten minutes later, Jordan marched out of the cottage hauling with her an old army-green duffle bag Mallory remembered from their summer camp days. As soon as the front door shut Truffle dashed over and scratched her little paws on it as she whined.

I will not feel guilty, I will not feel guilty.

She picked up the dog to comfort it, but couldn’t distract it from trying to get to Jordan. “Sorry, Truffle. You’re stuck with me for a little bit.”

After she changed out of her damp clothes, she fixed a microwave dinner then settled in front of the TV with a pint of Rocky Road ice cream to watch a movie on Lifetime. The plot centered upon two brothers—one who was married to the beautiful female lead, and the other who secretly loved the same woman. Near the end of the movie the brothers discovered that the woman had been deceiving both of them, and had driven a painful wedge between them. Mallory couldn’t help but think of her relationship with her sister. Sure, Jordan had betrayed her, despicably. But it was true that they’d only been teenagers at the time, with all the self-centered angst of youth. All the other stuff that they clashed on was just her twin’s personality, which was so completely opposite from Mallory’s. It wasn’t her sister’s fault that their parents favored her.

Yet if she gave in and let Jordan stay with her, it would surely end badly. It always did. No, she couldn’t fall prey to guilt. She had her home, career, and her life to consider. Jordan would throw everything out of whack.

Hazel scurried past, followed by Truffle. The pair played together, oblivious to the angst between their respective owners. Trying to ignore the turmoil in her mind, she headed to her room to change into her nightgown. The middle drawer of her dresser was open an inch or so with several items sticking out.

Jordan.

Mallory refolded the clothes and properly shut the drawer. In the bathroom she found two wet towels in a heap on the floor. Muttering a curse under her breath, she yanked them up and marched them to the hamper. She’d been right to turn her sister away. No way could she live with her twin’s messes, both actual and emotional.

Hours later, as she lay in bed, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, she couldn’t stop thinking about her twin. What if Jordan had been telling the truth? How would she feel if something happened to her sister? Would the fact that Jordan had probably invited the trouble into her life even matter then?

No, no, no. This was always how she ended up buying into her twin’s chaos. She wouldn’t this time, couldn’t.

She tried counting sheep. One…two…three…

Something brushed against her arm. Startled, she opened her eyes and again found herself face-to-face with him, her dream man.

“Who are you?” she asked him.

When he smiled, lines bracketed that sexy mouth. He took her hand and raised it to his lips. Then he was kissing her throat, working his way lower. She whimpered with helpless need. But way too soon he vanished in a puff of white smoke.

“Come back.”

She sat up. And found herself alone in her bedroom. Just a dream, again. She fell back onto her pillow, and wished sleep would take her back to him. Squeezing her eyes shut, all she succeeded in conjuring were more sheep.

By the time morning rolled around, she managed to stumble out of bed to walk the dog. Thankfully she was off work today, but she’d promised to do a tarot reading for Stevie’s grandma, who, according to Stevie, was having a difficult time dealing with a relative’s death. On her way to her friend’s house, Mal stopped at The Hallowed Bean for a double espresso Dracu-latte and a triple chocolate-chocolate chip cookie. The caffeine infusion did the trick.

When she arrived at Stevie’s house, her friend greeted her at the door wearing hot pink yoga pants and a white, midriff-bearing tank top that showed off her six-pack abs and her smooth, brown skin. A silver pentacle hung around her neck, the only outward sign that she was a witch.

“Namaste.” Stevie pulled Mallory into a patchouli-scented hug.

“Namaste. How’s your grandmother doing?”

Stevie’s smile slipped a little. “Physically she’s doing great. Emotionally, though, not well. Grandma and her sister had been estranged until my great aunt fell sick and died suddenly.”

Was Mrs. Mercer hoping to connect with her sister on the other side? “She knows that I’m not a medium, right?”

Stevie patted Mal’s arm. “She does. I guess the reading you did for her during her visit to Nocturne Falls last year made an impression on her.”

Mal nodded then followed her friend through her meditation studio to the guest room. Although the two witches were separated by at least fifty years, the resemblance was uncanny. Sitting in a rocking chair next to the bed, the older woman’s hair was short and white, rather than Stevie’s long black braids. They had the same chocolate-colored eyes, beautiful mahogany skin, and reedy build. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Mercer.”

“Thank you for coming, dear.” Deep lines fanned out from the corners of her eyes. “Stevie did an emotional healing spell for me, which did help to a degree, but I feel as if I’ll never forgive myself for not reaching out to my sister many years ago. Now I’ll never be able to make peace with her.”

A lump lodged in Mallory’s throat. “I understand.” More than she cared to admit.

Stevie left the room, gently shutting the door.

Mallory quieted her mind and tried to relax so she could better hear the voice of her intuition. After a minute, she took out her cat-themed tarot cards, unwrapped them from the silk she kept around them, and handed the deck to Mrs. Mercer. “Cut them into three piles.”

As Mallory did the reading, the pattern was undeniable. Every card the older woman chose indicated regret, be it representing past, present or future. Almost all of them were from the suit of Swords. The Page of Swords showed that Mrs. Mercer had acted without thinking of consequences, while the Ace of Swords accurately described the heartbreak of her present.

Mallory tried to put the best spin on the reading she could, but even Mrs. Mercer’s future indicated she’d continue to feel stuck and powerless, weighed down by her grief and regrets. “This is only what’s possible for you,” Mal told her. “There are always choices. This merely shows the track you’re in right now.”

Mrs. Mercer sighed. “I’m a very old witch, dear. I’ve had a hundred readings if I’ve had one, and I’m intuitive, just like you are.” She smiled. “Unfortunately I can’t seem to push myself out of this rut, at least not yet. But perhaps you needed to hear my fate.”

The comment hit her like a slap of icy morning air. Was that why Mrs. Mercer had chosen her to do the reading? Mallory composed herself, and gathered up her cards with trembling hands.

“How much do I owe you, dear?” Mrs. Mercer asked.

Unable to find her voice for a moment, Mallory stashed the deck in her purse. “No charge. I just hope that I’ve helped you in some small way.”

On her drive home, she couldn’t help but think about the reading. Perhaps Mrs. Mercer had been right. Maybe Mallory had needed to get a message about her relationship with her own sister. Had she made a mistake by insisting that Jordan couldn’t stay?

What am I thinking?

Parking in front of the cottage, she contemplated all the pain her twin had put her through. She shook her head. “Nope,” she said aloud.

The moment she unlocked the door to her house, Hazel came running to her, followed by Truffle, who hopped around excitedly on her back legs.

Mallory had to laugh as the dog tried to jump up her body. “Have you two missed me?”

Truffle barked. Hazel rubbed against Mallory’s shins. She sat on the floor and played with both animals, letting them climb on her, and lick her. If only her relationship with her sister could be as carefree.

She lifted the dog and held it up to her face. “I wish your mommy and I didn’t have such a troubled history, Truffle.”

The pooch licked the end of her nose as if trying to reassure her.

Sighing, she set the dog on the floor. “It’s a terrible idea for me to invite Jordan to stay with me. It never ends well, so why should this go-round be any different?”

Truffle tilted her fuzzy head as if she was considering about the question.

“But she is family.” Sure, Jordan had betrayed her back when they were in high school, but it had been a very long time ago. After they’d graduated, Jordan had seemed genuinely remorseful. And although her sister’s sloppiness had caused Mal to be asked to move out of her friend’s apartment, the experience had laid the groundwork for Mallory’s decision to save enough money to buy her own house. So in fact, Jordan had inadvertently done her a favor.

Hazel scampered from the room, but the dog stayed there like a loyal friend.

“I have no other siblings, Truffle, and few relatives. I’ll never forget what Jordan’s done to me, but how would I feel if something bad happened to her?” Her chest constricted at the notion.

Maybe it was time to forgive. Getting to her feet, she fished out her phone and tried phoning Jordan. Her call went straight to her sister’s voicemail. “Hey, it’s Mal. I’ve been thinking. I guess you can stay. Only for a couple of days, though. Call me.”

Hazel brought over her toy mouse and dropped it at Mallory’s feet. She picked it up and tossed it into the living room. The kitten raced after it. A moment later when the doorbell rang, she extricated herself from the animals, and went to answer it.

Jordan stood there for a moment before nearly knocking Mallory over to hug her. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re the best sister in the whole world.”

Mal remained stiff, arms at her side. She just prayed she wasn’t making a huge mistake with her twin, again.

Chapter Four

Cyrus peered through the window of the Hair Scare Monday morning. The lights were on but no one appeared to be inside. He tried the door and found it open, so he went in—this time the traditional way. The reception desk was vacant, and so was Mallory Vaughn’s manicure station.

A young woman with purple hair came around a corner and gasped when she saw him. She held her hand over her heart. “Wow, you startled me.”

If his memory served, she was the hairdresser that the bartender at Howler’s had told him about. Maybe he could get some information from her. Heck, he could use a haircut, too. “Are you Amethyst?”

Her face brightened with a smile. “You caught me. What can I do for you?”

“Got time for a haircut? You come highly recommended.”

Making a show of looking around the empty salon, she shrugged. “We’re pretty busy, but I think I can work you in.” She gestured toward her station. “Who sent you?”

“Bridget, from Howler’s.” He sat in Amethyst’s chair.

“I’ll have to remember to thank her.” She draped him in a black nylon cape. “Any instructions? You want barber-shop style service?”

“Sure. Whatever you think.” He didn’t much care. “This place looks like a ghost town today.”

“The salon? Yeah, we only open by appointment on Mondays. You caught me before my first one shows up.”

Did that mean Jordan wasn’t working? Or whatever name she was using. “Seems like you’d get lonely working all by yourself.”

She wet his hair using a spray bottle. “One of the nail techs will be here soon, and we have a meditation instructor who’s doing a small class this afternoon.”

He hoped the nail tech she’d mentioned was the one he wanted to see. Fifty-fifty chance it would be. “Bridget also mentioned that this is a great place to have a psychic reading.”

She combed a lock of his hair between her fingers and snipped. “Sure is. I do scrying, Darcy’s a palm reader, and Mallory does tarot cards. I don’t have time for a reading today, but maybe Mallory does.”

The back door swung open and Jordan strode in, smiling and waving hello to Amethyst. “Morning.” Her smile was dazzling, absolutely gorgeous—something that hadn’t hit him when he’d seen her photo. But in person…holy cow! She stared at him for several moments as she strode past, as if she’d seen him before, which she couldn’t have. Her scent filled the air—a mixture of every wonderful-smelling flower he’d ever known.

“Hey, Mal.” Amethyst said to her. Then she pointed at Cyrus’s reflection in the mirror. “Let’s find out if she can squeeze you in for a reading. Give me a sec.”

Jordan—or Mallory, as she was calling herself—set her purse on the reception counter then took out her cell. She wore the same turquoise blouse he’d seen on the woman who’d disappeared in the alley on Saturday. Had to be Jordan. How could he have known that in person she’d take his breath away?

The women spoke for a few moments, but he couldn’t hear what they said. Jordan kept glancing at him through narrowed eyes.

Amethyst returned to her station. “She has a manicure in a minute. By the time I finish your haircut you shouldn’t have to wait long.”

“Great.” Now that he’d found Jordan, he needed a plan. He couldn’t just kidnap her. Although spending time alone with her sounded like the best thing that could ever happen to him. It was the handing her over to Yanira part that suddenly bothered him. Thankfully Winston had insisted that Cyrus not use any illegal means to get Jordan back to Vail Lake.

Amethyst unfasted the Velcro closure of the cape and pulled it off of him, shaking out the hair onto the floor. “What do you think?”

He hadn’t even realized she’d been cutting his hair. Probably because he’d been preoccupied with the gorgeous dog-napper. With a cursory glance in the mirror, he nodded. “Perfect.” After paying her, he took a seat in the waiting area, one that allowed him to hear and see Jordan/Mallory and her client, an obviously well-heeled woman that he suspected was a vampire. She wore a violet suit, and seemed to be in her early sixties. How a vampire could be out and about in daylight was a mystery, though. One for another day. His thoughts were fixed on the beautiful blonde manicurist whom he’d somehow have to deliver into the hands of someone he was pretty sure was unscrupulous.

Jordan finished with the vampire then hooked the woman’s arm and led her to a smaller table with a fan on it, which she trained on the client’s hands.

“I’m not staying for the full ten minutes that you like me to,” the vampire said with a trace of an upper-class British accent. “My driver will be here in a moment, and trust me, he’ll be sure to do everything for me, so I won’t risk messing up my manicure.”

Jordan nodded, but a spark of amusement shone in her eyes. “I understand, Mrs. Ellingham. There’s nothing I can do to force you to wait for your nails to dry completely. Just like last week, and the week before that.”

Cyrus replayed the exchange in his head.

Just like last week, and the week before that.

How could Jordan have been here and in Vail Lake at the same time? He slid her a sideways glance. Unless she wasn’t Jordan. Could she be Jordan’s twin? Either that, or some other type of supernatural being who could magically transport herself long distances in the blink of an eye, as he could.

She wasn’t a genie. He’d know if she was. Maybe she really was Mallory. But if that was the case, where was Jordan? Had she slipped out of town while he wasn’t paying attention? He should be more upset about that, except it meant that the fascinating woman who’d captivated him for the last few minutes wasn’t the one Yanira was after.

A liveried driver came in to get Mrs. Ellingham. “Whenever you’re ready, ma’am.”

“That would be now,” she said as she strode toward him and out the door.

Mallory met Cyrus in the reception area. “I’m Mallory.”

Are you? He sure hoped she wasn’t Jordan. “Cyrus. Nice to meet you.”

“Cyrus.” She said his name slowly, as if she was trying to place it, or memorize it. “Amethyst said that you want a tarot reading.”

“I do.” Standing, he inhaled her intoxicating scent again, trying not to react, despite the fact that every cell in his body was suddenly ramped up with attraction.

She directed him to her table then wiped it down and covered the surface with a blue cloth that had planets and moons and other celestial objects in the pattern. “Okay, close your eyes and try to clear your mind of the mundane.”

Maybe Mallory really could see what his future held. He shut down his thoughts. Only he couldn’t get her pretty face off his mind. He imagined kissing her, running his fingers through her silky hair. What would those plump lips taste like? How would her skin feel against his?

“Do you have a question in mind?” she asked.

He opened his eyes and stared into hers, which were the exact shade of aquamarine of the waters at  the Havelock Island in the Bay of Bengal, where many years ago he’d been summoned from his lamp by a lonely old woman who’d wished for eternal youth. When he’d made her young, she’d asked next to be beautiful. And he’d used his magic to give her the beauty of Aphrodite.

Yet she paled next to Mallory.

“Anything?” she prompted as she handed him the deck.

There were a million things he yearned to ask her—was she single; what did she like to do in her spare time; and what in the world was that amazing scent she was wearing. Clearing the cobwebs from his throat, he coughed. “Yes, I do.” But another glance at her scrambled all coherent thought, and his plan dissipated into nothingness. “I-I was wondering about my…my love life.”

She grinned for a moment and flipped her hair behind her shoulder. “Sure. Of course. Lots of my clients want to know about that. Number one question. Because, you know, what’s more important than that?”

“Nothing, at the moment.” The woman had him mesmerized. From her stunningly beautiful face, and her wavy tresses the color of corn silk, to her long, graceful neck and her elegant hands, it was as if she’d been made to his specifications of female perfection.

“You’re staring at me. Do I have a smudge of dirt on my nose or something?”

“Your nose is perfect. In fact, it’s the prettiest nose I’ve seen…ever.” Had he really just said that? Jeez. He wasn’t some hormone-soaked teenager, but he sure felt like one around her.

A rosy flush bloomed on her cheeks. “Um, cut the cards into three piles.”

When he did, she had him choose one card from each.

“Interesting.” She bit her lower lip, and his brain went into spasms. He couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“So here’s your past.” She pointed to the first card, a horned red demon. “The Devil is all about bondage.” A nervous twitter escaped her lips. “Not in a…a kinky sort of context. This means that you felt as if you were beholden, or a slave to someone or something.”

Gooseflesh spread over his skin. His past, present and future all seemed to be summed up in that one card. Maybe she did have a gift. But the reminder that he wasn’t free to have feelings for a woman—or to even be attracted to this particular one—crashed his mood to the ground. Nothing he could do about it. This was his life.

He tipped his chin at the middle card, in which a cat pulled a white rabbit out of a top hat. “And that one?”

“The Magician reversed signifies deceit, trickery, and maybe a bit of greed.” Giving him an apologetic shrug, she bunched her lips to one side. “Hmm. I don’t sense that this pertains to you, but rather someone pulling the strings in your life.”

Interesting choice of words. “You’ve almost convinced me that fortunetelling is for real. At least when you do it.”

She straightened. “Why get a reading if you think it’s a bunch of bunk?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. You have to admit, though, there are a lot of charlatans out there.”

Her expression relaxed, and that gorgeous smile returned. “Well, let’s move onto your future. Looks like that’s a lot brighter than your past or your present.”

Dropping his gaze to the card, he noticed the name on top—The Lovers. Two cats nuzzled close.

“This is a great card. You’ll be very drawn to something or someone, and that attraction will result in a strong connection, even intimacy and commitment.” She avoided his gaze. “It could mean having a passion or an all-consuming relationship with a hobby or a career, but I sense that isn’t the case here. The card also portents a choice, or dilemma.”

He swallowed, knowing instinctively that she would be at the center of that dilemma. Yet a genie had no choices—he was compelled to grant his master’s wish, no matter what his own feelings were. Even if she was Jordan’s twin, she was his only lead. He hated to drag her into this, and to deceive her. The best thing he could do was to walk—or run—from her as fast as he could. Only he had a job to do, so he didn’t move. She was the one person who could lead him to the object of his master’s wish. “Do you have time to give me a manicure?”

Her blush deepened. She batted her eyelashes, and gave him a flirtatious smile. “I can make time, for you.”

Despite knowing he was treading on dangerous ground, he couldn’t help himself. “Let’s do it.”

Mallory cleared her nail table and replaced the colorful silk cloth with a towel. She took one of his hands and rubbed gel onto his cuticles. Her touch felt way better than it should. He clamped down on his desire, willing it away, which didn’t work at all. There was something so engaging about her, so incredibly attractive. Even the shackles of being a genie couldn’t keep him from wanting her.

He was so screwed.

Mallory hadn’t felt that giddy sensation in her belly in such a long time—too long. Cyrus’s dark wavy hair, with that curl that fell onto his forehead, made him look a lot like Superman. That along with his impressive height and incredibly broad shoulders. She had good instincts about people—except when it came to her twin—and something about his adorably crooked smile told her that he was sweet and intelligent. She’d clearly seen in the reading that he’d find love someday. Of course, that didn’t mean he’d find it with her.

She shook off the ridiculous notion. Love wasn’t even on her radar, at least not anymore. She’d learned her lesson after two devastating heartbreaks. Never again.

Cyrus adjusted his hulking frame in the pink chair, which just made her laugh.

“What?” he asked.

She tried to focus on filing his nails, and not his sexy smile, and the piney scent of his cologne. “Sorry about the chair. It’s made for someone more…petite.”

“Guess I’d better go on a diet before my next manicure, huh?” When he winked at her, the most delicious heat washed over her.

Apparently he planned to be back. Nice to know. She clipped a hangnail and concentrated on his hands, which were so big and strong, just like the rest of him.

“So my future’s brighter than my past, hmm?”

Meeting his stare, she was struck by how incredibly green his eyes were—like dazzling emeralds. Gasping, she realized why he seemed so familiar.

His expression shifted from alluring to concerned in a Nano-second. “Something wrong?”

Regaining her composure, she squared her shoulders. “Um, no. I just thought for a moment that…that I knew you from somewhere.”

Tiny muscles around his jaw ticked. “Does that upset you?”

She gulped. “N-no, not exactly. It…surprises me.” Flashing on images from her dreams, she squirmed to dissipate the heat.

“I know I’d remember if we’d met before.” His eyes grew smoky, reminding her of her dream man even more.

Taking his other hand, she repeated her ministrations, and forced her thoughts to the present. But after only a minute, she was back in her dreams with her emerald-eyed lover, the very same man who sat at her table. She was sure it was him. How could that be possible, though? She’d never met him before today. Pumping the bottle on her table, she squirted a healthy blob of lotion into her palm.

As she massaged his hand, he shifted in his seat. His Adam’s apple slid up and down his throat.

She’d done enough manicures and pedicures on men to know the signs. Unable to hold back a chuckle, she pressed harder on his palm, making tiny circles on his skin. Then she grasped his fingers in turn, massaging and gently pulling on them. “It’s okay to get turned on by the massage. Happens all the time to my male clients.”

He sputtered out an uncomfortable laugh. “No, that’s not… It’s just…” Finally, he nodded. “You got me. How many men get this special treatment? That’s what I want to know.”

“I’ll never tell.”

“You do realize it’s impossible for me to have a normal conversation with you while you’re doing such…erotic things to me.” He scrubbed his free hand over his face. Was he sweating?

A giddiness like champagne bubbles spread through her. She slowed the massage. “Are you saying you want me to stop?”

“Not really.” He growled. “That would probably be best, though.”

Raising her brow, she quit rubbing, and wiped the remaining lotion from his hand. “You’re the boss.”

“I need to think about something else.” He scratched his chin. “Let’s see. Tell me about your family. Any brothers or sisters?”

Thinking about Jordan, her mood clunked. “None that I care to acknowledge.” She buffed each nail.

“Aw, come on. It can’t be that bad.” He pinned her with those captivating green eyes.

“I have a sister, a twin. It’s better if I don’t talk about her when I have such sharp implements within my reach.”

Letting out a bark of laughter, he shook his head. “Okay, okay. I won’t go there.”

Her next client, a middle-aged redhead who happened to be an avian shifter, came in and sat in the reception area.

Cyrus glanced over his shoulder at the woman then lowered his voice. “Is she here for you?”

Mallory nodded. “She’s getting her talons done.”

He scrunched his brow. “Huh?”

“Inside joke.”

He paid her for the reading and manicure, plus a generous tip. As he started to get up, he hesitated. “I’d love to buy you dinner tonight.”

She met that captivating gaze. She hadn’t even known him an hour. “I’m not sure—”

“What about drinks? We can go to Howler’s, even sit at the bar if you don’t trust me.” He raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe you don’t trust yourself.”

Renewed warmth bloomed in her belly. She had no desire to start a relationship with any guy, but she wasn’t opposed to a fling, especially since she’d dreamed about him. Maybe there was a reason he’d come in to the salon. He was definitely a hot ticket.

“I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” he coaxed.

Setting her hands on her hips, she grinned. “Well forget it then.”

His laughter tore through all her defenses.

She feigned irritation as she caved. “Eight o’clock.”

He took two of her business cards from the holder on her manicure table, and wrote his number on the back of one. Then he handed it to her and slipped the other one into his pocket. “See you tonight.” He headed to the door, giving her a glimpse of his rear view, which was almost as fine as the front.

Her next client sat at the manicure table. “Did you just sigh?”

Had she? Yeah, she probably had. No wonder, since a drool-worthy guy had sat across from her for nearly an hour. She swallowed as she sprayed down her table then set out a fresh towel. “Allergies,” she said. “Excuse me.”

As she completed her next manicure, and then two pedicures after that, she attempted to concentrate on her work. But thoughts of her upcoming date with Cyrus kept barging into her head, no matter how hard she tried to not dwell upon it. She couldn’t remember feeling this good—like she was on cloud nine—in a very long time.

When she got home after work, she found Jordan pacing the kitchen floor.

“Thank goodness you’re home,” her twin said. “Don’t you answer your phone when you’re at work?”

Mallory pulled her cell out of her purse. “I must have left it on silent. Are you okay?” She glanced around for Hazel, and found her asleep beside Truffle under the bistro table in the breakfast nook.

Jordan set her hands on her hips. “No, I am most definitely not okay. Do you have any idea who that man was that you gave a manicure to this morning?”

Cyrus? How did her sister…? “Wait a second. Were you spying on me at work?” She clenched her jaw.

“It’s a good thing that I was.” She rolled her eyes toward the heavens. “I was walking Truffle so I thought I’d stop by the Hair Scare to say hello. Good thing I saw that guy at your table or I’d have gone right inside. He’s the one who’s been following me. Who knows what he would have done if I’d strode right over to him?”

Jordan had to be wrong about Cyrus. “How can you be sure it was him? He could just look like the guy who’s following you.”

Another eye roll. “Because I saw him in my rearview mirror all the way from north Georgia to here. I was hoping I’d lost him in town, but I noticed him behind me yesterday when I was on my way to the salon. I had to hide in the dumpster in back of the building to finally dodge him.”

“The dumpster?” Mallory shuddered. “Ick.”

“Exactly. Why do you think that the first thing I did after I arrived here yesterday was to take a shower and wash my clothes?” She marched to the pantry and pulled out a box of fish-shaped crackers. Reaching into the package, she took a handful. Crumbs dropped onto the floor, but as usual, her twin was oblivious to the mess she was making.

Mallory shook her head, and grabbed a couple of napkins from the holder on the counter. “Here.” She handed them to Jordan, who seemed perplexed by the move. Way worse than her sister’s sloppiness was knowing that Cyrus had played her. A dull ache settled in the pit of her stomach.

“You’re worried about a few crumbs on the linoleum when I’m in fear for my life?” Jordan opened her hand, letting the rest of the fish fall. Then she stepped on them. “There. I’m telling you that the man you were all chummy with, making googly eyes at, has been chasing me down, probably so he can kill me.”

Could this be her sister’s way of throwing a monkey wrench into Mallory’s excitement? Maybe Jordan was making up the whole story about Cyrus following her. How typical of her twin to begrudge her the tiniest smidge of happiness. She grabbed a small brush and dustpan and handed it to Jordan. “Clean that up. Now.”

Rolling her eyes, Jordan complied. “I can’t believe you’re more concerned about your pristine floor than you are for your only sibling’s life.” She emptied the dustpan into the trash.

Mallory took the cleaning implements from her and returned them to the hook on the inside of the pantry door. “Perhaps he was merely on his way to Nocturne Falls, just like you were. Although he probably didn’t come to terrorize any family members like you obviously did.”

Jordan’s cheeks turned scarlet. She fisted her hands at her sides. “I’m serious, Mal.”

“Okay, fine. Why is he after you? What’d you do?”

Truffle popped up her brown fuzzy head and barked.

Jordan glanced at the pooch and clucked her tongue. “You’re upsetting her,” she told Mallory. “They both want you to quit yelling at me.”

She drew a calming breath. “I’m not yelling, only asking.”

“Fine. I’ll tell you.” Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Jordan huffed. “I won this jackpot. It was nothing illegal, only a guessing game sort of thing. All I can figure is that this guy found out about it and he plans to rob me. Who knows? Perhaps he’s a hired killer.”

Mallory considered her sister’s explanation. “That doesn’t make sense. You’re not telling me the whole story.”

Jordan chewed on her fingernails, exactly what she used to do when they were kids and she’d been caught in a lie or half-truth. “Could be that the lady who owns the place where I won the money sent him after me.”

“Keep going.” Getting the truth out of her twin was a lot like peeling an onion. She waited for the rest of the story.

“That’s all of it.” Jordan held up her hands in surrender. “I can’t think of any other reason the guy would be following me. But I’ll bet he was at your salon because he thought you were me.”

Mallory thought back to her conversation with Cyrus.

“Tell me about your family. Any brothers or sisters?”

Could he have been fishing for information about Jordan or had he merely been making conversation? Ire and disappointment swirled in the pit of her stomach, vying for center stage. She should have known better. As soon as her sister showed up in town, trouble had followed her. It always did. It shouldn’t bother her so much that Cyrus had deceived her. After all, she’d only just met him. And it wasn’t as if she was a stranger to men lying to her. Her high school boyfriend had. So had the man she’d been sure she was going to marry. Her man radar was so broken that it was beyond repair. Not that she’d have gone for anything more than a casual fling with Cyrus. Still, the letdown tugged at her emotions. And then there was the fact that he kept showing up in her dreams. What was that all about?

She sank into a chair. “God, I was such an idiot. I thought he liked me. He even asked me out.” Didn’t matter. Cyrus was obviously someone she should write off, regardless of how crazy the sparks between them had been.

Jordan gasped. “He did?” She started pacing the floor again, mumbling under her breath. Finally, she stopped and pointed at Mallory. “Actually, that’s perfect. We can beat him at his own game. You have to go. Find out what he wants.”

“What happened to him potentially being a hired killer?” She gritted her teeth. “I really appreciate that you love me so much that you want me to go on a date with a man who could be a criminal.”

Jordan pursed her lips. “Maybe I was exaggerating.”

Or maybe she was being manipulative, giving Mal only the details that would serve her own purpose, which was totally her sister’s MO. “Well, either way, I won’t be going out with him tonight.”

“Come on, Mal. You have to.”

“No, I don’t.” She couldn’t trust Jordan to give her a straight answer on anything, so she’d have to investigate on her own. So she’d meet him in a few hours, just as they’d planned, only she wouldn’t let her twin know that was what she was doing. She had to get to the truth and find out what her sister had done, because experience told her that Jordan would likely never come clean.

She just prayed that Cyrus was harmless.

Chapter Five

Cyrus stepped out of the shower and cinched a towel around his waist just as his cell signaled a text message. Since only a few people had the number, it had to be Winston, Yanira, or Mallory. He hoped it was the latter, and that she was confirming their date, although he shouldn’t think of it as a real date. This was merely a fact-finding mission. No matter that he found her incredibly attractive. He didn’t have the option to start a relationship with any woman, let alone one who was instrumental to his quest to fulfill his master’s wish.

Sure, he’d been with other women, but genies were eternal slaves, going from one master to the next. He liked Mallory, a lot. Only he had nothing to offer her. Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy her company while he sought information about her sister’s whereabouts.

He checked his phone. A text message from Yanira filled the screen. He had no right to be disappointed that it wasn’t Mallory. Nevertheless, he couldn’t deny that he was.

“Have you found her yet? I want a report. Where are you?”

He typed his response: “Working on it. Should know something in a couple days. Followed a lead to Nocturne Falls, GA.”

Hopefully that would hold her. He opened the closet in his motel room, which held a few wire hangers and an ironing board that looked as if it had been around when the Dead Sea was merely sick. Snapping his fingers, he used his magic to fill the closet with several wardrobe options: faded jeans with a black T-shirt and leather boots; dress pants, a polo shirt and a sport jacket; khaki chinos with an orange silk shirt; or a black suit. He grabbed the khakis and got dressed.

As he tied his shoes, his cell buzzed with another text. Yanira again.

“Remember that you’re not on vacation. Time is of the essence. I need the girl and the money before she spends any more of it!!!”

A snide reply came to mind, but he tamped down the urge and instead merely sent a thumbs-up emoji, with three exclamation points. Because he couldn’t resist. Soon enough he’d locate Jordan and convince her to return with him to face his master. It wasn’t for him to question a wish, or his master’s motives. Still, something about Yanira had always bothered him, as if she wore a mask—or many of them. She showed one face to him, and a different one to her husband. Cyrus didn’t trust her.

He couldn’t help but wonder if when he handed over Jordan to Winston and Yanira, would they harm her? He suspected that Yanira’s business practices weren’t always on the up and up, but he had no proof, only his instincts. Winston seemed to be a pretty good sheriff, although how could he be sure? He’d only known him for a year.

The couple had originally called Cyrus out of his lamp after some of their friends had exhausted their own wishes and then left his lamp where the Pfeifers could find it. That was darn close to cheating in the dos and don’ts of genie summoning.

What if the Pfeifers were actually criminals? He powered up his laptop and ran a Google search on them. First thing that popped up was their wedding announcement from three years earlier. He had no idea they’d only been married for such a short time.

Several notices of legal action against Yanira’s restaurants showed up—both by customers and employees, yet all of them appeared to have been dropped. Three civil suits hadn’t been settled, but rather, withdrawn. According to the website, the details weren’t public record.

Even if the sheriff and his wife were unscrupulous, Cyrus was bound to grant the wish. The only exception would be if they asked him to kill someone, heal an illness, or bring back the dead. They’d made none of those taboo requests, so he had to bring Jordan to them.

His cell played the theme from I Dream of Genie, the ringtone Yanira had put on the phone as a joke—or maybe a reminder of his shackles. Seeing his master’s name on the display, he answered. “Hello, Winston.”

“It’s me,” Yanira said. “My phone just died.”

Tension instantly knotted his neck muscles. “Yes?”

“A couple of days is too long. Find that thief and get her back here ASAP. And make sure you get the money, all of it.”

Amazing how she didn’t even mention that she wanted Truffle back. “Winston’s wish specified that I wasn’t to use illegal means to bring Jordan back. I can’t just kidnap her. Besides, I haven’t located her yet. You’re going to have to be a little patient.”

“Perhaps you’re going to have to hustle, hmm? I need that money back, and that girl…” She mumbled an expletive. “I’m furious that she scammed me. No one does that to me and gets away with it. The last person who did…Well, we don’t need to open that can of worms. Just hurry up and bring her to me.”

His jaw clenched. “How can you be so sure she didn’t win fair and square?” And why would anyone put worms in a can? It sounded so mean, like sharing his lamp with a dozen other genies.

She huffed loudly. “Because I… That’s not your concern, Cyrus. Let’s just say that she’d have had to be psychic to win.”

He tightened his grasp on the phone. Psychic like Mallory? If they were identical twins, did that mean that they had identical supernatural gifts? That could be how Jordan had won the jackpot.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll work on it.”

“See that you do. Don’t get too comfortable in your luxurious accommodations.”

“The Pinehurst Inn is a dump, actually.” He glanced around his luxurious motel room. When he’d first checked in, the carpet had been stained and worn, the wallpaper yellowed and torn. And he’d seen beds that looked more comfortable in medieval dungeons. But a little magic had spruced things up, almost to five-star hotel standards.

“Good,” Yanira said. “That’s incentive to do your job quickly.” She hung up.

Shaking his head, he grabbed his keys, and headed out. Minutes later he arrived at Howler’s, and waved to Bridget behind the bar.

She gestured toward a nearby table where Mallory was waiting. For him. In a white off-the-shoulder top, she looked even sexier than she had at the salon.

His pulse quickened as he approached her. “Sorry if I’m late.” He touched her bare shoulder, and a zing of arousal caught him off guard. Taking a seat across from her, he detected her floral scent over the heavy smell of burgers and fried food. She’d pulled back one side of her hair with a glittery barrette, giving him a glimpse of a delicate, kissable earlobe and dangly gold earring.

“You’re not late. I’m always a few minutes early. I’m kind of a planny pants.”

He chuckled. “Since you’re psychic, you probably knew exactly when I’d be here, right?”

She shrugged. “My psychic gift doesn’t exactly work that way. Tarot cards come alive for me. I can’t just look at someone and know what they’re thinking.”

“Good thing.” Because if she could read his mind, she’d be aware of how badly he wanted to kiss her…and more. The temperature in the room rose.

Grinning, she shook a finger at him. “I can read your thoughts at the moment, you bad boy!”

He couldn’t resist the bait. Skimming his gaze over her, he leaned closer. “Yeah? Tell me.”

She lifted her wineglass, took a sip, and then slowly slid her tongue along her upper lip. “Hmm, let’s see. You’re thinking that you’d like a taste…of my wine.” She passed him her drink.

His mouth went dry, and his pants suddenly felt a little tighter in the crotch area. “Right you are.” It wasn’t the wine that he thirsted for.

A dark-haired waitress approached their table. “No need to share,” she quipped. “I’ll get you your own. Red wine for you, too?”

He took a small sip before handing it back to Mallory. Red wine was too dry for him. “Have any craft beers?” he asked the server. “One that’s sweet.”

“Hmm.” The brunette glanced toward the bar. “Yeah, Bridget just got in a new one that she said tastes like it belongs at Keller’s Sweets and Treats.”

He’d noticed that store, and had spent a few moments ogling the displays of vintage candy in their window. “That’ll work.”

They ordered burgers and fries before the waitress left. The evening was beginning to feel very much like a date, the kind he’d never dared hope he could have. Mallory was sweet and funny and bright, everything any man would want.

From the adorable way she dipped the ends of her fries into ranch dressing, to how she wiped up every drop of condensation that dripped onto their table, and rearranged the condiment bottles so they were in size order. She was probably a little on the compulsively neat side, but he didn’t care. Damn it, he wanted her, wanted to be free to really date her.

Too damn bad. He had a mission, and shackles around his wrists. It could never be. The sooner he got the information he needed, the sooner he could get out of her life. He chased down the last of his burger with a healthy pull on his beer. “You said you have a twin, right?”

Mallory’s smile slipped. “I do.”

Tread lightly.

“Did you dress alike when you were kids?”

She sipped her wine as she eyed him. “Only when our parents forced us.”

“I get that. And what about now? Are you close?”

Pushing away her plate, she shrugged. “Not at all.”

“Why’s that?”

She rested her chin on her hand. “You ask a lot of questions.”

Had he ventured a question too far? “Just trying to get to know you.”

“Sounds as if you want to get to know my sister.” She bit her bottom lip as she eyed him. “What is it that you do, Cyrus? Why are you in Nocturne Falls?”

Why hadn’t he come up with a cover story? He was no good at this detective work. “I’m…I do contract work.”

“Contract work,” she parroted, clearly doubting his answer.

Noticing that her wineglass was nearly empty, he signaled their waitress.

When the brunette came to their table, he asked Mallory if she wanted more Pinot noir.

“Only if you join me and get another beer.”

That would make three, which meant he’d have to get back to his motel using magic, or a Lyft. But it would be worth it to keep Mallory with him for a little longer. “Sure. Another round,” he told the server. “Would you bring it to the back room?”

The waitress nodded and left.

The corners of Mallory’s lips lifted. “Are we playing pool or something?”

Standing, he offered her a hand up. “Only if you accept the challenge.”

She took his hand. “Under one condition.”

“Yes?”

“With each shot I make, you answer a question for me. Honestly.”

“Then the same goes for every ball I sink.”

She raised an eyebrow then marched ahead of him. “Yup, that’s fair.”

This was going to be a piece of cake. It had been fifty or sixty years since he’d played, but he was good at pool.

Cyrus wasn’t any good at pool. Mallory only had one more ball on the table to his five, since he’d missed his last shot. She pointed to the side pocket “Right there.” She took her shot, and managed to hit the cue ball into the eight ball, which barely kissed her target, exactly enough to sink it.

His shoulders sank. He toasted her with his bottle and drank. For a man his size, he didn’t seem to have much of a tolerance to alcohol. Either he was a little wobbly, or her tipsy meter was off. So far, he had given her only vague, evasive answers to her questions, but she was ready to drop the hammer on him.

“Are you going to give me a truthful answer this time?” She sipped her wine and waited for him to respond. “We had a deal. I sure hope you’re not going to renege on me.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Fine. You could have clued me in about you being a pool shark, though.”

“You never asked. See what happens when you assume? My uncle had a pool table in his basement. Uncle Stan—whose nickname was Stop-Shot Stan—taught me everything I know about the game.” She chalked the tip of her cue then sank the eight ball. “That makes four more questions I get to ask.”

“I figured you for sweet and innocent” he grumbled. “Looks sure can be deceiving.”

Feigning hurt, she held her hand against her chest. “I am sweet. What I’m not is a pushover.”

“I never mistook you for a pushover, not for a moment.” When he skimmed his gaze over her, the heat of awareness washed over her. “From the first moment I saw you, I realized that you were a strong woman. Your intelligence and determination shine through. Of course, the fact that you’re a knockout doesn’t hurt.” He waggled his brow at her then sank the remaining balls and set their pool cues in the rack on the wall. “Ask me anything. I’ll do my best to answer honestly.”

This was her chance, so why was she having second thoughts? What if she learned that he really was after her sister? And merely using her to get to Jordan? Even if his answers hurt, she needed to know. She had to find out what her twin had gotten herself into this time.

Stepping away from the pool table to let a couple of guys use it, she gestured toward the exit. “Want to take a walk?”

“I’d love to.” He paid their check, refusing to let Mallory contribute even the tip. “You can buy next time.”

She hoped there’d be a next time, but that depended on his answers to her questions. They pushed through the doors, leaving the din of music and voices behind. A few minutes passed in comfortable silence before she spoke. “So what are you really doing in Nocturne Falls? And exactly what sort of contractor are you?”

“That was two questions.” He offered her a peppermint roll candy, and after she took it, he popped one into his mouth.

As they turned onto Black Cat Boulevard, a teenager on a skateboard almost ran into them. Cyrus slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her out of the kid’s path. The contact jumbled her thoughts for a moment as the air between them crackled with sparks. They stood perfectly still for a long moment, their bodies close together, their gazes locked.

But she couldn’t let herself be distracted by the attraction. She extricated herself and straightened her blouse as she started walking again. The Hallowed Bean was still open, and she inhaled the wonderful aromas of coffee and sweets as they approached it. “So back to my questions.”

He tipped his chin toward the coffee shop. “How about dessert?”

“First an answer.” She folded her arms over her chest outside the door.

Clearly amused, he shrugged. “You win. I’m in Nocturne Falls to…run down a lead.”

Evasive. “Specifically…”

He dropped her gaze. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

“So you do contract work and run down leads, one of which brought you to town.” She tapped her foot. “Those answers are too vague to count. How do I know I’m not out with a hired killer who’s here to take out someone I know, or even me?”

His expression went very serious for only a split second, but then he laughed. “Come on. Do I look like a hit man?” Taking her hand, he led her to the park across the street and sat her on a bench. “Okay, I’ll answer your questions, if you’ll do the same for me.”

“Deal.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I followed someone to Nocturne Falls, a person who might have committed a crime.”

Gulping, she thought about Jordan. What could her sister have done this time? “So…are you a cop, a private detective?”

“That’s a question. No, I’m not either of those.”

He was beyond frustrating. “What are you doing here?”

“At the moment I’m trying to kiss a beautiful woman.” Taking her hand, he slid closer. The town, the traffic noise, and all thoughts of her sister’s issues fell away. There was nothing but the two of them, and his uber sexy mouth. Her eyes slipped lazily shut as his lips pressed to hers. Her heart pounded. Desire seeped through her, warming her from the inside out.

He tasted of sweet peppermint and longing. Was she back in her dreams? She stroked her fingers over the hard angles of his shoulder. This was real. A soft purr of pleasure escaped her lips.

When they finally broke apart, they just stared into each other’s eyes for several seconds. Until a thought occurred to her. Was he merely trying to distract her? She backed a few inches away. “Why are you following…that person?”

“Just when I was really enjoying that kiss…”

“You promised,” she said. “Why?”

Leaning his head back, he blew out a breath. “I don’t have any other choice.”

Irritation prickled her skin. “Come on. We all have choices.”

“Not all of us.” His expression grew more serious, almost…sad.

“Who are you, Cyrus? What are you?”

He sat taller. “You really want to know?”

She wasn’t so sure, but she nodded.

“I’m a genie. I spend most of my time in a lamp, until someone summons me from it. Then I grant them three wishes.”

Was he serious? She narrowed her eyes at him. “For reals?”

With a solemn nod, he said, “For reals.”

Wow. She’d never met a real genie, hadn’t even known that they existed. But what did he have to do with Jordan? “Have you been following my sister?”

His lips flattened to a thin line.

She held her breath.

Finally, he gave her a half nod. “Yes I have, for my master.”

Her heart thundered in her chest. “Why? Did Jordan do something to your master?”

“You’ll have to ask her.”

Knowing her twin, she’d probably crossed someone. “Is she in trouble?”

He remained silent, but his frown confirmed her suspicions.

Mallory’s eyes filled, although she had no idea why. Was it the fact that her twin had landed herself in another mess, one that could potentially put her in danger? Or perhaps the reason she felt like crying was the confirmation that Cyrus had been playing her. “You used me to get to my sister.”

He set his hand over hers, but she immediately yanked it away. “Mallory,” he said. “I’ll admit that was my plan, at first. Now that I’ve gotten to know you a little, I want to help. Maybe there’s a way to get my master to take back the wish.” He scratched his chin. “I don’t know. I’ll speak to him, but I need you to do something for me.”

Anger stormed through her. She clenched her fists in her lap. “Seriously? In what universe would I want to do anything for you after you…you lied to me?” Her mind instantly took her back to Tom’s betrayal in high school, and Adam’s dishonesty only a few years ago. The wounds had scabbed over but they’d never completely go away.

Better to find out now though, before she’d allowed herself to care for Cyrus. But as she glanced at him, she knew she’d already started feeling a little something for him.

Lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes. “Please try to understand. I have no choice but to grant a master’s wish. It’s like an addiction, or a compulsion. It isn’t what I choose to do, it’s what I’m forced to do.”

Now his reading made more sense. Perhaps he really was bound to obey his master. How could she fault him when he had no choice in the matter? Not that she had any interest in a romance with him or any other man, for that matter. As soon as she fell in love she lost all control. Why would anyone voluntarily hand over their power to another person? Besides, if Cyrus really was a genie, surely he wasn’t free to get involved.

He knitted his brow. “If I could speak to her, maybe she could tell me something that I could relay to my master, a way to exonerate her, or to clear things up between them.”

“I’m still not sure what she did wrong. Why should I help you when you’re not telling me everything?”

“Because you’d be helping your sister.”

Well, there was that. Could she trust him, though? He’d already misrepresented himself, but she didn’t think he’d faked that kiss, or the attraction vibes she’d been feeling from him all night. “Fine, I’ll speak to her. I can’t promise you anything.”

“I understand.”

She prayed that he was on the level now, and that her sister’s current mess wasn’t beyond repair. Most of all though, she hoped that she could forget about Cyrus, and get over her desire for him. This could only lead her down a path to heartbreak.

Chapter Six

Mallory paced the kitchen floor the next morning. She’d found Jordan asleep on the sofa when she’d gotten home last night, and despite all the noise Mallory made feeding animals and cleaning up the dishes her twin had left, Jordan didn’t stir. Soon, though, it would be time to get dressed and head to work. Before she left, she had to find out what Jordan had done in order to attract the attention of Cyrus’s master. Muttering a curse under her breath, she took a large frying pan out of the cabinet and banged the lid to it. The crash did the trick.

Jordan gasped and sat up. “What happened?”

Mal returned the cookware to the cabinet then marched into the living room. “I need to talk to you. And I want the truth this time.”

Her twin snuggled under the blanket. “I’m still sleeping. We can talk later.”

“Now.”

Truffle, seeing that her mistress was awake, jumped onto the couch and pawed Jordan’s arm. Hazel followed suit, scampering over Jordan’s legs and torso. Shoving both animals away, she rubbed her eyes, mumbling something about the ridiculously early hour.

“Tell me why Cyrus is following you. What’d you do?” Mallory sat on the wingback chair and folded her hands in her lap.

“Cyrus? So that’s his name.” She threw back the blanket. “Wait, I thought you said you were going over to your new house to line the shelves in the kitchen last night. You went out with him, didn’t you? After you made me believe you weren’t.”

Mal folded her arms over her chest. “Took a page from your playbook, I guess.”

“Well, what’d he tell you?”

“Not much. He said I should ask you what you did.” She resisted the urge to fold the covers that her twin had wadded up at the end of the sofa.

Truffle covered Jordan’s face with doggy kisses. She laughed and petted the pup’s tousled head. “How was I supposed to leave this little princess in the hands of a woman who completely ignored her? She told me that the lady didn’t love her. I tapped into her thoughts when she was with her former owner. That woman is awful. How was I supposed to ignore Truffle when she begged me to take her away from all that?”

Mallory heaved out a sigh. “So you stole the dog?”

“I liberated her. Only I wasn’t able to support her in the style to which she was accustomed, until she helped…er, until I correctly guessed the number of jellybeans in a giant pot, and won the jackpot at the woman’s restaurant.” Jordan gave her a sheepish half smile. “Lucky guess.”

“Wait a second.” Mal tried to process her twin’s story. “So you won the prize from this woman’s restaurant and then kidnapped her dog?”

With an indignant scowl, Jordan set Truffle aside then bolted off the cushion. “That’s not a very nice word. Truffle wasn’t happy. There was only one person there who even paid her any attention, and he was only visiting. If you knew that Hazel was miserable, wouldn’t you do whatever you could to help her?”

She thought about her kitten. “Of course. The difference is that Hazel belongs to me.”

“You’re splitting hairs.” Jordan started from the room but Mallory hooked her arm to stop her.

“You committed a crime,” Mal said. “Which means that I’m harboring a fugitive.”

Jordan rolled her eyes toward the heavens as she shook free. “Puh-lease.”

“And this isn’t your first rodeo. I seem to recall that you were convicted of vandalism in Alabama.”

Setting her fists on her hips, Jordan huffed. “The zoo treated their monkeys terribly. Poor little guys spent their whole lives in concrete pens with metal bars. Pretty much a prison situation. They begged me to set them free. If you could have heard their pleas, you’d have done the same thing.”

“Doubtful.” She rubbed her temples to ease the sudden throbbing pain there.

“No creature deserves to be penned up in some prison-like setting. Could you imagine?”

“Not really.” Mallory couldn’t help but think of Cyrus, and how he’d described his situation in similar terms.

“It would be awful,” her twin said. “Dogs and cats usually live with people who want and love them. That wasn’t the case with Truffle. She wanted away from her owner more than anything. I’m sure if you think about it, you’d agree with me that I had to take her. Isn’t there anything you want so badly that you’d risk everything, do whatever it took to get it?”

“I don’t like risk-taking.” But Mallory considered her sister’s words. She’d spent the last few years building her nice life here in Nocturne Falls. There was a lot to be said for nice. She had a dependable job, reliable friends, no heartaches, and she was about to join the ranks of the local homeowners. Her life here was safe—at least it had been until her twin showed up again. What she wanted most was to protect that.

Jordan teased back the edge of the curtains. “You didn’t tell Cyrus I was staying with you, did you?”

“Of course not. He has no idea where I live.”

Jordan faced her. “You’re listed in the phone book. How do you think I found this place?”

Mal closed the distance between them and touched her sister’s arm. “Cyrus wants to help. He’s going to ask his—” Oops. She hadn’t told Jordan about Cyrus being a genie. No reason to for the time being. “He’s trying to smooth this over for you.”

She eyed Mallory for several moments. Then she laughed. “You have the hots for him, don’t you? The guy who’s been following me has you snowed. He doesn’t plan to help me. He only wants you to lead him to my hiding spot. Thanks, sister dear!”

Cyrus wasn’t like that, or was he? How could she be sure? She’d only known him a day. Of course, her sister being dishonest was the more likely scenario. “How’d you win the jackpot? I’m not buying your lucky-guess explanation.”

Her twin’s eyes darted around the room, confirming that there was more to the story.

Jordan dropped onto the sofa and raked her fingers through her morning-messy hair. “Okay, fine. That woman is a cheater. She set up the jellybean game so that no one could win it.”

“Why didn’t you go to the cops then?”

“Because her husband is the cop in Vail Lake. Yanira’s married to the sheriff.”

The picture was beginning to come into better focus. “And perhaps because you also cheated, hmm?”

Her sister’s expression registered indignation. “Yanira did first. She told someone how she was going to make sure that no one was able to win. Truffle heard their conversation from outside of a room. Yanira told a man—probably Sheriff Pfeifer—that she’d given a fake number to the restaurant’s manager. That way if anyone guessed that fake number, she would insist on them counting the jellybeans. But if someone guessed the correct amount, she’d refer them to the number she’d given the manager.”

Mallory nodded. “So the sheriff and his wife were in on it together.”

“I think so, although I can’t be sure because like I said, Truffle didn’t see who his mistress was speaking to. The place wasn’t familiar to her, either.”

“If Yanira’s plan was so foolproof, how’d you manage to walk away with the jackpot?”

“I worked at a dog grooming parlor. Yanira would board Truffle there when she’d go out of town. She went on some overnight gambling cruise, and when she dropped off Truffle, she said that if there was an emergency with the dog, she’d be unreachable, so we’d have to handle anything that came up.” A sly grin lifted one corner of her mouth. “The next day I went to the restaurant and guessed the number—the one that the manager was given. Since Yanira wasn’t around, he had to give me the money. Well, he did want to wait a few days, but I threatened to call the North Carolina Crime Control Office if he didn’t pay up right then. At first he said they didn’t have ten thousand dollars on hand. So I started hitting buttons on my phone like I really was calling the law. Well he went in the office and came out with a box of money, all hundred-dollar bills, and he counted out the ten thousand into my hand.”

The notion that her sister had used her supernatural gift for profit didn’t sit well with Mallory. “So you pretty much stole the woman’s money, and then kidnapped her dog.”

“It wasn’t like that. Why do you always put the worst possible spin on everything I do?” Frowning, Jordan shook her head. “I made minimum wage at the grooming parlor. Truffle was miserable, and I think a little afraid of her mistress. Everything came together perfectly, as if it was meant to be. I never thought they’d come after me because they’d never even consider the possibility that I’d won the jackpot by communicating with their dog. The money allowed me to get away, and to take care of Truffle until I can find a job to earn what we’ll need to live.”

It was a far-fetched story, but Mallory believed her. “Will you meet with Cyrus and tell him what you told me?” She crossed her fingers in her lap.

Jordan balked. “What if he ties me up and drags me back there, or worse?”

Mal picked up the bedding from the sofa, folded it and stashed it inside the storage ottoman, all without her sister offering to help. “How about I meet him and convince him to come here and speak to you? Then I’ll be right here to protect you. I’ll call the salon and have them cancel my appointments for today.” Which would also give her the opportunity to see Cyrus again. Not that that was her motive. Not really.

“What if he kills us both?”

Maybe she shouldn’t, but Mal trusted Cyrus to stick to his word. “He won’t. You can’t just keep running. Eventually the consequences of your actions will catch up to you.”

Pursing her lips, Jordan lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Okay, fine. But if this goes bad, you’ll only have yourself to blame.”

The fancy espresso machine Cyrus had conjured in his motel room hissed out a cup of morning bliss. He brought the coffee over to the breakfast bar, opened the box of pastries he’d picked up from Delaney’s Delectables, and inhaled the sweet scent of heaven. The only thing that could make the morning better would be if Mallory was there with him. Soon enough she would be, since she’d called and asked him to meet her at the park.

Mallory had been all he’d thought of last night. She’d even made her way into his dreams. He couldn’t wait to see her again. Checking the clock on the bed stand he couldn’t keep from smiling. T minus twenty until he’d be with her again.

Cool down, fella.

This was only temporary. It sucked big time that just when he’d found a woman he yearned to know much more intimately, he was going to have to say goodbye to her before they could explore any sort of relationship. The least he could do, though, was to smooth things over between her twin and his master’s wife. For Mallory.

He bit into the butterscotch brown butter blondie, savoring the intense sweetness, until his cell rang. One glance at the display, and the pastry turned bitter in his mouth.

Yanira.

Might as well get it over with. “Good morning, Yanira. How are you this morning?” Maybe his politeness would rub off on her.

“What the hell is taking you so long?”

So much for her being polite. “I explained yesterday that—”

“I don’t want any more excuses. Just bring that girl and my money back here.”

“And your little dog, too?” He couldn’t resist.

“Yes, of course I want Truffle back. Damn dog cost me five hundred bucks.” Just like Yanira to put money before love of her canine companion.

“Actually, I was hoping we could talk about Jordan. There must be some other way to work this out.”

“You’ve spoken to her? Why didn’t you grab her? You have to give Winston his wish. If you don’t, I’ll…” Yanira’s growl sounded a lot like Truffle’s when she was playing. “There’ll be consequences, terrible consequences.”

He wasn’t afraid of Yanira. “I haven’t yet located her, but I did manage to find a relative of hers, which is a good start. As we speak, I’m trying to negotiate a deal to meet with Jordan.”

“Negotiate?” she sputtered. “That’s not up to you. You’re supposed to be fulfilling a wish, not coddling her family members or talking us out of it.”

“Yanira, wouldn’t you rather Winston use a wish for something else? The rule is that once a wish is made, it can’t be changed, but just this once I’ll make an exception. You don’t even have any proof that she ripped you off.” Although he was sure that Jordan had dognapped Truffle.

“Perhaps I should change my wish to have you kill that woman. How about that?”

Her menacing snicker sent chills up his spine. She might be nearly as twisted as Sir Desmond La Roche, the most sadistic master Cyrus had ever known.

“You know I can’t, and won’t do that. Do I have to remind you that Winston insisted that I operate within the law. Besides, he’s the one who can make wishes, not you.”

“Now you listen to me, Mr. Genie. I know her twin sister lives in that town. Do what you have to do to get Jordan and that money back here. Or else.” She hung up before he could respond.

How’d she know about Mallory? His jaw tightened. Had she sent some henchman to keep tabs on him? If someone was watching him, then they’d have also seen Mallory. And just as he had at first, that person might mistake her for Jordan. Since Yanira obviously wanted Jordan dead, both twins could be in danger.

His pulse pounded in his ears. If anyone went near Mallory or Jordan, he’d destroy them. And then Yanira.

Grabbing his keys, he raced out the door. When he arrived at the park a few minutes later, Mallory was already at the bench they’d shared the night before. Shutting his eyes and drawing a relieved breath, he shut off the truck’s engine then scanned the area for anyone who might be a threat to her.

Before he could cross the street to where she was, a trolley rolled past with a sign on the side of the car advertising something called the “Summer Spooktacular.” If he wasn’t a genie, he could see himself asking Mallory out to an event like that.

In my dreams.

He waited for the trolley to pass then headed over to join her. How did she get more gorgeous every time he saw her? Wearing a pink and white polka dot dress with pink sandals, and her hair pulled up in a side ponytail, she waved as he approached. His entire body strung tight with wanting, but also protectiveness.

With another glance around the area, he sat next to her and gave her a quick peck on her cheek. He was growing way too fond of her scent, and of being near her. Resting his arm on the back of the bench, he smiled when she slid closer. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” She smiled up at him, but new lines creased her forehead.

“Is everything okay?”

She wrung her hands. “I suppose. I spoke to Jordan.”

“Yeah?”

“She told me why you’ve been following her.” The furrow on her brow deepened. “Is she in trouble over taking the dog?”

He wished it were that simple. “I don’t think that part’s too important to my master. His wife called me a little while ago. And there’s something you should know.”

Her eyes went wide with fear. “What?”

Taking her hands, he gave her the condensed version of his conversation with Yanira, leaving out the part about her asking him to kill Jordan. “There’s a chance that she’s sent someone else to find your sister.”

Mallory’s complexion paled. “I need to go. I should make sure she’s okay. As I was leaving she said something about taking the dog for a walk. That might not be safe.”

His heart hammered against his ribs. “Come on. I’ll drive.” He held her hand as they hurried to his truck.

She told him how to get there. “My sister told me that the dog wanted to leave with her. You probably won’t believe this, but she can communicate telepathically with animals. Apparently Truffle was lonely.”

He scratched his head. “Telepathically, huh?” He had to admit that she’d been right about Truffle.

“I know it sounds nuts, but it’s true. And her gift has led to Jordan doing some crazy, self-destructive things, all in the name of protecting one animal or another.”

“That doesn’t explain how she managed to win the jackpot at Yanira’s restaurant.”

Mallory gestured for him to take a left onto Witch Way. “Truffle apparently conveyed to her that Yanira had the game rigged.”

“It doesn’t surprise me that Yanira was dishonest, but I can’t wrap my head around the idea that a Yorkie was listening to conversations and then sending Jordan the scoop.”

“I know it sounds implausible, but you’ll see when we get to my place. She can prove that she gets into Truffle’s thoughts, and my kitten’s, too.” She pointed to her cottage. “That’s it, last one on the right.”

He nodded. “I guess nothing should surprise me. You are aware that this town is full of shape shifters, vampires, witches, and elves, right?”

“Very aware. And by the way, there are a lot more supes than that.”

“Supes?” He parked in front of her house.

“Supernaturals,” she clarified.

When he started to open his door, she grabbed his arm. “Let me go in first and explain to her that you’re here. I don’t want to frighten her.”

He frowned. “My chief concern is your safety and hers.”

“When you put it that way…”

They headed toward her front door, until Mallory stopped and swayed. He grasped her shoulders to steady her. “Are you okay?”

She clutched his arm. “Jordan’s in trouble.”

Scanning the outside of the house, he didn’t notice anything amiss. “Are you sure?”

“I get these feelings sometimes, especially about my twin. She’s scared.”

When she started toward the cottage again, he hooked her arm to stop her. “Get back in my truck and lock the doors.”

“I have to get to her.”

The fear in her eyes cut straight through him. He used his magic to form an invisible protective bubble around her. “Fine, but stay right behind me.”

Her lips flattened. “Let’s go.”

He tried the doorknob, which was unlocked.

Mallory shuddered. “She’s been so scared. She’s checked every door and window three or four times. No way would she have left the house unsecured.”

Stepping into a small foyer, he stilled to listen.

Tap, tap, tap.

Truffle came running from the kitchen, and yapped at him. She hopped on her hind legs, tongue hanging out of her mouth. He scooped her up and let her lick his face.

“She sure likes you.” Mallory crouched to pet a white kitten. “This is Hazel.” She let out a heavy sigh. “And I’m betting Jordan isn’t here.”

He set down the dog. “Let’s take a look around.”

They searched room by room, but there was no sign of Mallory’s sister. In the master bedroom, Cyrus glimpsed the curtains on one of the two windows fluttering gently. A few shards of glass lay on the carpet. Pulling Mallory against him, he pointed to the fragments. “How much do you want to bet the window’s broken?”

“Oh, no.” Before he could stop her, she raced over and yanked aside the curtains, revealing the smashed window. She let out an anguished gasp. “I shouldn’t have left her alone. What was I thinking?”

He closed the distance between them and wrapped her in his arms. “I’ll find her. I promise. I did once after she left Vail Lake.” This was all his fault. He never should have tried to reason with Yanira. He knew better.

Mallory backed out of his embrace and fished her cell from her purse. “I have to call Sheriff Merrow.”

“If he’s the local law, it might not do any good. I’d lay odds that whoever has your sister is already well out of town. But I know where they’re headed.”

She stopped calling and met his gaze. “Maybe he can help. He could call the police department in Vail Lake.”

“Yanira is the wife of the sheriff of Vail Lake. Even if your sheriff didn’t phone him, Sheriff Pfeifer is likely to hear about this on whatever law enforcement pipeline exists.”

Her shoulders fell. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

He racked his brain to come up with something but kept coming up blank.

Truffle came into the room and barked at Mallory.

“I’ve got an idea,” she said as she stared at the pooch. “How quickly can we get to Vail Lake?”

“Using magic we could be there in a matter of seconds.” He wondered what she had in mind.

“Let’s do it.”

“Whoa, tell me your plan first.” Last thing he wanted to do was put Mallory in harm’s way.

“Fine, but then we can go?” She stood on her tippy toes and planted a kiss on his lips, which went a long way to convince him.

“As soon as you share the details.”

She sat on the floor and put Truffle on her lap, whispering endearments to her. “This little lady is going to help us find my sister.”

He had no idea how the Yorkie would do that, but he prayed that they were able to find Jordan before Yanira got to her. If anything happened to Mallory’s twin, he’d never forgive himself.

Chapter Seven

Mallory tousled Truffle’s fuzzy face. “Tell Jordan that we’re going to find her,” she told the pup. Hazel climbed onto her lap next to her new canine companion. “You too, Hazel. I need to know if whoever took her is headed to Vail Lake. I guess I should ask a yes or no question to make this easier. Is Jordan being taken there?”

Cyrus lowered his huge frame onto the vanity stool. “Assuming that your sister can communicate with them over long distances, how will you get any information back from her?”

“Listen and learn.” Pulling Hazel closer, she concentrated on her message. “Jordan, if you’re able to tap into Hazel’s or Truffle’s head, tell them to turn around in circles. Is whoever took you taking you to Vail Lake?” She held her breath and waited. As soon as she put the dog down, the two animals started playing. “Darn it.” So much for her brilliant plan. Would she ever see her twin again? A thick clog formed in her throat.

“Give them some time,” Cyrus said. “Do you have any idea how long it usually takes for this sort of thing to happen?” He crouched behind her and rubbed her shoulders.

“No clue.” Her stomach churned, kneading guilt into heavy lumps. She got to her feet. “I need to clean up the glass and nail a board over the window before we leave.”

“All taken care of.” He stood up and tipped his chin toward the window, which was somehow no longer broken. Even the glass shards were gone from the floor.

She stepped over to the window to make sure she was seeing right. Yup, it was just like new. “How’d you do that?”

“I’ve got the magic in me.” He threw her the sexiest wink, that in any other circumstances would have made her toes curl.

Right now, though, all she could think about was finding her sister.

“Well, would you check that out.”

She followed his gaze to Hazel and Truffle, who were both walking in circles. Cheering, she hugged Cyrus. “I was right. We can communicate with her through them.” A modicum of relief eased a little of her worry.

“I’ll have us there in the blink of an eye.” His smoldering gaze captured hers and held it.

Her legs turned to noodles. She slid her hands over the sinewy contours of his back. When he kissed her, it was even better than last night. Her pulse leaped like a jackrabbit. Why did this have to feel so right? Every place he touched her—her neck, her cheek, her shoulders—was on fire. And that heat spread through her, setting her whole body ablaze.

But she had a sister to rescue. Centering a hand on the hard planes of his chest, she eased him back. “We should go.”

“You’re right.” He cleared his throat. “Are we bringing the dog and cat?”

She thought about the logistics. Dogs were a bit more portable than cats. Hazel required a litter box, and didn’t walk well on a leash. “Only Truffle. I can ask my friend Darcy to take care of Hazel. She already has a key.”

“Let’s go then.”

She grabbed her purse from her bed, where she’d dropped it. “Do you have a magic carpet or something?”

Laughing, he shook his head. “That’s old school. We don’t need one.” He picked up Truffle and held her under his arm. Then he offered his free hand to Mallory.

She kissed Hazel goodbye. “Tell Jordan we’re on our way, baby.” Nervous excitement fluttered in her belly as she clasped Cyrus’s hand. “Ready,” she told him.

Suddenly the ground fell away. They were high above the earth, rushing past the greens, greys and browns below. Mountains gave way to lush valleys and lakes in super-fast motion. She blinked and they were back on the ground. “Wow. That was pretty…amazing, wonderful, mind-boggling. I can’t even think of the right word.”

“Those all work.”

The air was cooler than back in Georgia, and some of the nearby trees were painted in vibrant autumn shades. “Where are we?”

“Welcome to Vail Lake.” He set Truffle down on the grass at the side of the road, and Mallory wondered when he’d put a leash on her. More genie magic, no doubt. “We’re only a mile from Yanira and Winston’s house. Winston’s the sheriff.”

Truffle marked the grass as her territory.

“My truck’s right over there.” He cut his hand through the air and like magic, the same vehicle that was parked on the street in front of her house in Nocturne Falls appeared next to them.

Well, yeah, it was like magic because it was magic. “Incredible.”

“Firefly Restaurant is a few miles in the other direction. I doubt Yanira would have your sister taken to either her home or her business.” He rubbed his chin. “Ideas?”

She took Truffle’s leach from Cyrus, led the dog to a nearby tree stump and sat down. “Truffle, please tell Jordan that I’m in Vail Lake. We need to know if Yanira or someone working for her kidnapped Jordan. If the answer is yes, reach around and bite your tail. Not hard or anything, just gently, so we have an answer.”

As they waited for a sign that Jordan had gotten the message, the reality of the situation knocked her upside the head. Her sister’s life was on the line. They had to come up with a plan.

The Yorkie barked. Then she reached around to grab her tail.

Mallory fist-bumped Cyrus. “If I could somehow give this Yanira person a tarot reading, maybe I’d be able to tap into her plans and figure out how to get to my sister. That’s when my intuition is strongest.”

He carried Truffle over to the truck and stashed her inside. “You could ask for a job at the restaurant, and offer her a free sample, so to speak. Yanira is one of the cheapest people I’ve ever known. She’ll accept almost anything if it’s free.”

She met him at the truck. “That would be good. Except that my twin and I are identical.”

Cyrus handed her a mirror that had apparently materialized out of thin air.

She held it so she could see herself then gasped at her reflection. “Good heavens!” A complete stranger stared back at her. Her hair was brown and curly, and her complexion looked several shades darker. Even her eyes were completely different, now black as coal. Glancing down at her clothes, she startled. She was now wearing a flowered peasant dress and a scarf decorated with at least a hundred small fake coins tied around her waist. “No one would ever guess that Jordan and I were twins.”

“Exactly.” His lips bunched to one side. “You’re missing something, though.” The mirror in his hand changed into a beautiful silver necklace with a large wire-wrapped blue stone hanging from it.

“Perfect. How’d you know?” She spun around and let him fasten the chain around her neck as she ran her fingers over the lapis.

He turned her to face him. “Know what?”

“That lapis lazuli is a stone of truth. It encourages honesty of the spirit, and of the spoken and written word. This should help me get answers from Yanira.”

A knowing grin settled on his lips. “I’ve been around for more than a minute, you know. But that’s not just any lapis. I’ve charmed it to allow me to see and hear everything that goes on when you go to the restaurant.” He eliminated the space between them. “If Yanira tries anything, if she makes a move to harm one hair on your beautiful, currently dark-haired head, I’ll be there so fast that she won’t know what hit her.”

No guy had ever been so protective of her. And to think that he’d barely known her a day. How much more caring would he become with time. But time was a luxury they didn’t have. Pushing the thought out of her mind, she wound her fingers through his. “Thanks for helping me try to find my sister. It can’t be easy for you to buck your master.”

“Technically, I’m not bucking.” He pressed a too-brief kiss to her lips. “My master’s wish is to bring Jordan to him. Unless I find her, I can’t fulfill the wish. The time it takes whoever has Jordan to bring her here gives us an opportunity to get to the bottom of Yanira’s plan, and hopefully to beat her at her own game.” He opened the passenger door and offered her a hand up. “Ready?”

Her heart tattooed a heavy beat against her ribs as she got in. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Cyrus rounded the truck. But when a short, dark-skinned man wearing overalls climbed into the passenger, she startled. “It’s okay. It’s me,” Cyrus said. “I have no desire to be recognized, either.” Even Truffle had changed, and now looked more like a mutt than a pricey purebred. And the truck was white, rather than its former sky blue.

He drove them to a large restaurant with a yellow neon sign that said Firefly, and parked in the lot behind the building. “Yanira’s car is here.”

Mal wiped her sweaty palms on her dress. “I’ll text you when I need you to pick me up.”

“No need. I’ll see and hear everything with the help of your necklace.”

She fished out her cell and held it up for him to see. “This is called a failsafe.” Tamping down her nerves, she leaned toward him for a good luck kiss.

He cupped her face, rubbing his thumb over her skin. “Please be careful. Yanira’s in her forties, and she’s short with brown hair and beady little eyes. Don’t let her size fool you into thinking she’s a pushover. She’s anything but. Most of the time she hides out in her office in the back, but she’s a control freak who makes every decision herself.”

“Got it.” She reached into her purse to make sure her cards were there. “Off I go.” Her mouth was dry as sand as she strode toward the entrance. Once inside, her senses immediately shifted to overload thanks to the blaring techno music, and the bells, buzzers and flashing lights coming from scores of high-tech pinball machines and video games. The air reeked of fried food and stale beer. Apparently the place was popular, though, considering it was barely lunchtime and at least half the tables in the bar area were occupied. She went straight to the bar.

A bartender dressed in a blue and white striped referee-style shirt came over after a couple of minutes and set a beverage napkin on the bar. “What can I get you?”

“Is the manager around?” she asked over the noise. “I’d like to apply for a job.”

He took back the napkin. “I’ll find out for you.”

“Thanks.” She sat on a stool to wait. And wait.

After a few minutes, a woman who looked exactly as Cyrus had described approached her. “Paul said you’re looking for a job?”

Pulse racing, she hopped off the stool. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Bartender or waitress?” Yanira slid her gaze over her.

“Neither.” She showed the woman her tarot deck. “I’m a fortuneteller, a very good one.”

“We don’t do that here.” She started to turn away.

Mal took a step toward her. “Just let me give you a free reading. You might change your mind.” When Yanira hesitated, she added, “You need this reading.”

Yanira’s eyebrows angled toward her nose. “Free, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay, fine. Come with me.” She pushed through a door marked Private.

Mallory followed her into a garishly decorated office—something that she’d expect to find in a brothel rather than a restaurant.

Yanira gestured toward a red velvet chair next to an ornate gold desk. “Sit.” The vibes she was giving off were some of the most negative Mallory had ever felt.

Mallory handed her the tarot deck, which thankfully was one she rarely used, and that she’d probably burn after this reading. There wasn’t enough sage in the world to remove the bad energy from them. “Shuffle them as you think about a question you’d like answered.”

While Yanira shuffled the deck, Mallory concentrated on clearing her mind of everything else but the reading. “Now cut them,” she told her.

Yanira took a seat behind the desk and set the deck on the surface.

Mallory fanned them out. “Choose six cards.”

“I don’t believe in this sort of thing, but maybe you can change my mind.”

As Yanira handed her each card, the images came alive for Mallory, as they usually did, to tell a story of the woman’s past, present and future. The spread was rife with just the sort of traits she’d expect. The four and five of cups revealed a past filled with self-pity, and dwelling on the negative. The five of wands and seven of swords showed that Yanira’s present was marked by competitiveness, and minor squabbles, and that she had lots of secrets. “You had many difficulties early in your life,” she told the older woman. “You weren’t happy with what you had. You were bored.”

Yanira widened her eyes. “Go on.”

“There’s strife in your relationship. But you have secrets you’re keeping.” This woman wasn’t trustworthy.

“Hmm.” She squirmed in her seat. “I suppose we all do.”

Not as ugly as yours.

Her future looked bleak. Mallory saw disappointment, possibly addiction of some sort, and lots of disappointment. “Pick another,” she told her.

Yanira turned one over. “That doesn’t look very promising.”

Mallory nearly cheered. The tower meant that Yanira’s world was going to come crashing down, which must mean that they’d find Jordan soon. She pasted on a sunny smile. “It can be, actually. The collapse of certain stable structures can usher in sudden insights. I definitely see…a new beginning for you.” Hopefully behind bars.

Yanira leaned closer. “A new relationship, perhaps?”

“Could be.” An image swirled in her head. “I do see a man.” A powerful one, who’d make her pay for her transgressions. Cyrus?

“Someone I’ve already met?”

Mal concentrated on the image. “Yes. He’s a big man, which could be literal or figurative.”

Yanira let go a giddy laugh. “So my current…troubles will go away, yes?”

Mallory met her stare. “Oh, yes.” She tried to get more from the woman, something that would assure her that Jordan would be all right, but she couldn’t see anything else.

Rubbing her hands together, Yanira stood. “I’d never even considered adding something like fortunetelling to our offerings here, but this might be good.” She offered a bony hand. “I’m Mrs. Pfeifer.”

Mallory shook with her. “M-Maria.”

Yanira led her out of the office toward a back exit. “This is going to work out well, Maria. As long as you’re willing to help me with a few things of a…sensitive nature.”

Did she mean illegal things? She resisted the urge to wrap her fingers around Yanira’s skinny neck and choke her. “Sensitive?”

“Oh you know. Like where all the bodies are buried.” Yanira smirked as she opened the back door. “I can tell that you’ve got a real gift. There are many times that’ll come in handy for me.” She practically shoved her out. “See you tomorrow at eleven sharp.”

Where all the bodies are buried.

The metal door clanged shut in Mallory’s face. A chill crawled up her spine.

Cyrus’s disguised truck pulled up next to her. He pushed open the door for her.

When she climbed in, her head was pounding. “Things aren’t going to end well for Yanira. But I wasn’t able to get any information about my sister.”

“It’s okay,” he said as he turned out of the lot.

“No it isn’t. We’re right back where we started. We have no idea where she is, or if she’s even still alive.” Had Yanira been joking about bodies being buried? Or did one of those bodies belong to her twin?

Chapter Eight

Since finding Jordan was looking more and more as if it might take some time, Cyrus checked them into a motel a few miles outside of Vail Lake. He unlocked the door to the room and set Truffle down.

“Yikes.” Mallory brushed past him. She peeked inside the bathroom and made a choking noise. “Can you conjure up some cleaning supplies? Hopefully we won’t have to stay more than one night, but I’ve got to clean this up.”

Shutting them in the room, he changed their appearances back, then he took her hand and kissed the back of her fingers. “I’ll have it fixed up in a second.”

“I’m not much of a traveler,” she said. “I really prefer my own things, everything in perfect order, just as I like it.” She pulled a tissue out of her purse and wiped off the desk chair. “This isn’t about me and my creature comforts. We’re here to find Jordan, right?”

“No reason you should have to sacrifice, though.” He snapped his fingers for effect as he transformed the room into one he hoped she’d approve.

“Oh my!” She plopped onto the bed, and ran her hands over the fluffy white down comforter. “There’s a TV on the ceiling.”

“I can move it, or add another one.”

“No, this is fine.” She let out a sensual sigh as she stretched her arms and legs. “It’s perfect, actually.”

“You’ll find the closet and drawers full of clothes, including some boots and jackets, since it’s starting to cool down here.”

“Wow.” She headed to the dresser and pulled open the top drawer. “Wish I was a genie. It must be so cool to do stuff like this any time you want.”

He lowered himself onto the leather sofa. “It isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Genies are beholden to someone every moment we’re out of our lamp. I’ve been a virtual slave for a very long time.”

The sparkle disappeared from her eyes. Joining him on the couch, she laid a gentle hand on his thigh. “I’m so sorry. That was insensitive of me to say.”

As long as she kept her hand on his leg, she could say whatever she wanted. “You’re anything but insensitive.”

“Isn’t there any way for you to win your freedom?”

“Only if my master asked for that to be one of his wishes, but none ever has and I doubt that’ll ever change.”

She sat up taller. “If you were my genie I’d set you free.”

“I’m sure you would.” He threaded his fingers through the silk of her hair and reeled her in for a kiss. Desire quickened his blood. Didn’t matter that he wasn’t free to fall in love. He couldn’t make himself retreat from the sweetness of her touch.

Truffle yapped for attention. Then she started pawing their legs.

Cyrus reluctantly broke the kiss.

“I wonder if she’s trying to tell us something.” Mallory lifted the dog onto her lap. “Is it Jordan, girl? Is she okay? Please, let her be all right.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “If my sister is here in Vail Lake, bark three times.”

Nothing.

She frowned at Cyrus. “Jordan might be hurt, or worse. Yanira’s reading assured me that she’ll eventually get what’s coming to her, but I couldn’t tell if she’d be successful in her endeavor to get my sister. For all we know, Jordan could be in dire trouble right this very minute.” She hugged her arms around her body.

Cyrus pulled her against his chest and kissed the top of her head. He wished there was something he could do. Even though Yanira had asked him to kill Jordan, he had to believe that she’d never actually go through with anything that awful. “Could be that your twin’s not here yet. Or that she doesn’t know where she is.”

A flicker of hope lit up her blue eyes. “Yes, you’re right. I hadn’t thought of that.” Holding Truffle up to her face, she nuzzled the pup. “Jordan, if you’re being held and you don’t know where you are, tell Truffle to…grab her tail again.”

They only waited about a minute for the answer. The Yorkie reached around to catch her tail in her mouth.

Cyrus paced the floor. “My gut tells me that Yanira would bring her here. I’m going to head over to the restaurant and follow her when she leaves.”

“Me too.” She attached Truffle’s leash to the loop on the dog’s collar.

He shook his head. “This could be dangerous. I can protect myself, but if something happens to you…” He couldn’t bring himself to even imagine that possibility.

“Disguise me again, as someone else.”

He considered his options. “Okay, but you have to stay right with me. Promise me.”

She bobbed her head up and down. “Of course I will.”

He conjured bowls of food and water for Truffle. “As soon as she finishes her kibble, we’ll leave”

The pup excitedly scampered to the food to eat.

“Good doggy.” He took his cell out of his pocket. “Let’s see if I can confirm that Yanira has your sister.”

Mallory narrowed her eyes at him. “How?”

“Listen and learn.” He called Yanira.

“Yes?” she answered coolly.

“It’s Cyrus. I found Jordan.”

Silence. “You…you did?” The shock in her voice told him all he needed to know. “Where?”

“What’s that? You’re breaking up.” With a nod at Mallory, he disconnected. “Yeah, she knows where your sister is, and that there’s no way I could have Jordan with me.”

Mallory trembled. “I’ve never hated anyone like I do that woman.”

“She’s up there on my list, too.” After they got in the truck, he squeezed Mallory’s shoulder. “If I find your sister, I’ll have to take her to Winston.”

She balked. “What? After everything we know about his wife?”

“His wife, exactly. That doesn’t mean Winston is directly involved in trying to kidnap or harm your twin.” No human could possibly understand what it meant to be a genie. “Mallory, for someone like me, the desire to fulfill a master’s wish is like the need for air or water. It’s impossible to fight.”

“You can’t do that until we know if he’s involved. What’s your plan?”

He started the engine. “First we find Yanira and see if we can figure out what she’s up to.” He drove to the restaurant but her car wasn’t there. “Let’s try their house. If she’s home, we’ll wait until she leaves.”

He disguised them again as he drove toward the Pfeifer’s house, this time into a middle-aged couple. After he turned onto their road, he spotted Yanira’s car heading toward them. “There she is.” He made a U-turn and hung back several car lengths as he followed her. She drove several miles outside of town then took a left onto a street he was unfamiliar with.

“Where do you think she’s going?” Mallory asked.

“Good question.” But when Yanira bore right onto a dirt road, he knew that the truck was no longer feasible. “I’m going to shift into a bird, a peregrine falcon to be exact. They’re the fastest birds in this part of the country so I’ll be able to keep up with her without raising her suspicions.”

Mallory crinkled her nose. “Okay. Then make me one, too. I’ll do anything to save my sister.”

“Nope. Too dangerous.” Using his magic, he put the same necklace on her that she’d worn earlier when she’d gone to see Yanira. “If you need me, say it aloud and I’ll get the message.” He again surrounded her in an invisible protective bubble.

Her fear was plain in the tight set of her jaw, but she squared her shoulders.

“I need you to go and wait at the convenience store we passed half a mile back.” He quickly pressed a kiss to her mouth, then he got out of the truck and became a falcon. His plan had to work. If it didn’t, the woman he cared deeply for could be in grave danger.

Mallory drove the truck to the Thrifty Express store as they’d discussed. She parked on the side of the building to wait for Cyrus.

Truffle nudged her face against Mal’s side.

“What is it, girl?” she asked the pup.

The dog pushed a ragged toy at her—an elongated pig with a piece of thick rope connecting the head to the tail.

“Where’d you find that?” But knowing how much Cyrus cared for the pooch, she was pretty sure that he’d conjured it up to keep Truffle busy. Mallory held the tail end while Truffle kept the head between her teeth, growling and pulling as she did.

“Having fun?”

Cyrus’s voice startled her. “That was fast.”

He climbed into the cab. “Because we don’t have the luxury of time.”

Gulping, she buckled her seatbelt. “What’d you find?”

“Trouble.”

Glancing across the seat at him, her anxiety rose at the tight set of his jaw. Uncomfortable heat flooded her system. “My sister?”

He patted her knee. “Far as I know, Jordan is okay.”

Drawing a relieved breath, she moved her hand to her heart. “Thank goodness.”

“At the end of that dirt road there was an old farmhouse with a big warehouse or workshop. And there’s someone locked inside, so I suspect that’s where they’re keeping your twin.”

“Then we need to go get her!” She balled her fists in her lap. “We can’t just leave her there.”

Lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes. “If I find her, I will have to take her to Winston, so we have to figure out if he’s involved in this before we do that.”

She grappled for understanding. “What difference does that make?”

“Trust me, it’ll make a world of difference.” He picked up the dog. “Apparently Yanira’s very close with the guy she met at the farmhouse. Like lovers close.”

“Oh.”

“Right. I’m guessing that he’s the one who kidnapped your twin, or at least he’s the person holding her prisoner. We’re going to figure out if Winston is involved in her kidnapping, and if he’s not, I plan to tell him exactly what his wife has been up to.”

“And what if he is involved?”

He ground out a curse. “Then we’ll have to act quickly to get you out of there.” Sweat slid down the side of his face despite the cool temperature in the cab. “If Winston is privy to Yanira’s wrongdoings, I’ll do my best to protect both you and your sister. But she’ll have to go into hiding, somewhere I can never find her. Understand?”

“And you and I would never be able to see each other again, either?” Her chest constricted.

“That’s right. I hate that it has to be this way, but it does.” He tugged at his collar. “You and I will go see Winston, with you pretending to be your twin.”

Shutting her eyes for a moment, she took several deep breaths. “Okay.” She had to do this for her sister, but the idea of losing Cyrus destroyed her.

“We never could have had a future together, Mallory. Genie’s don’t get happy ever afters.”

She hadn’t meant to start feeling something for him, but she had. “I know. It’s just…so unfair.” Her eyes stung. She clenched her jaw to hold back tears.

Cyrus took her hand, and a few moments later they were standing in a small parking lot in front of a white, single-story building. “This is the town hall. Sheriff Pfeifer’s office is inside. His car’s in the lot so he’s definitely here. If he isn’t aware of what Yanira’s done, I’ll immediately go get your sister and bring her to safety.”

She shut her eyes and repeated one of Stevie’s mantras in her head. All is well. Peace is within me.

“Are you all right?”

She nodded. “Just a calming exercise.”

“Remember that you’re Jordan now. Just follow my lead.”

“Got it.” Glancing down at herself, she saw the same pink and white dress she’d put on that morning, which felt as if it was weeks ago, rather than mere hours.

“Ready?” He passed her the dog.

“Yup.” As ready as she’d ever be. She rubbed the lapis stone hanging between her breasts.

Inside the building, they strode past several offices to one with a gold star painted on the glass door. “It’s show time,” Cyrus said as he pushed it open and let her through.

A heavyset middle-aged woman smiled up at him from her desk. “Howdy, Cyrus. Is your uncle expecting you?”

“Afternoon, Dot. I think he is.” He led Mallory past her.

“Your uncle?” Mallory whispered.

He shrugged. “It was a way for him to explain my sudden appearance in his life.” He opened the door into a smaller office and went in ahead of Mallory. “Winston.”

The older man looked up at him with a blank expression. “Cyrus. I had no idea you were back.” His gaze shifted to Mallory as she stepped out from behind the genie.

“This is Jordan,” Cyrus told him.

“You!” Anger flashed in the sheriff’s pale blue eyes. He rounded the desk and jabbed his finger at her. “You’re in big trouble, young lady.”

Chapter Nine

Cyrus stepped between Mallory and his master. “She didn’t do anything, Winston.”

The sheriff grabbed Truffle from Mallory’s arms. “Like hell she didn’t. Who told her she could run off with my wife’s dog?”

The dog? For a moment, he’d thought that Winston had been referring to Jordan making off with the jackpot money through shady means. “Do you know where Yanira is?”

Winston shrugged one shoulder. “I’d assume she’s at the restaurant.”

“Then you’d be mistaken.”

The sheriff eyed him. “What does that mean?”

He touched Mallory’s arm then spoke to his master. “Your wife is holding Jordan hostage, Winston.”

The older man shook his head. “That’s not possible. She wouldn’t. Wait, didn’t you say this was Jordan Vaughn?”

“This is actually her twin sister.” Taking Mallory’s arm, he gently pulled her behind him. “I’m sorry, Winston, but Yanira’s also involved with…another man. I believe he’s the one who kidnapped Jordan Vaughn.”

All the color drained from the sheriff’s face. “Involved how?”

Cyrus dropped his gaze but didn’t answer.

Winston backed away and crumpled into a leather chair. “How do you know this?”

“I saw them. There’s an old farmhouse off Old Dairy Road where she met the guy a little while ago. I think she has Jordan locked in a building on the property.”

He felt sorry for Winston, but he didn’t have time to offer him comforting platitudes. “I’m afraid of what Yanira will do. I’ve got to go get her. Mallory can take you there and explain everything that’s been going on.”

The sheriff scrubbed a hand over his face. “Okay, fine.”

Cyrus looked deep into Mallory’s eyes, memorizing the tiny flecks in the blue. Then he gave her a too-fast kiss and magically sent himself back to the farmhouse.

Yanira’s car was still parked out front. He headed to the other building and slipped under the door. The place was mostly one big, dark space with very high ceilings, but he made out some light coming from a room in the back. And there was a noise, something electronic.

When he got to the room he found a long table with a fancy paper cutter on one end and two computers on the other side, which were connected to a large printer—a very expensive, high definition one. And there was some green paper in the tray. Stepping closer, he took a better look, and realized that it was actually white paper printed with mostly green ink. A whole stack full of sheets of hundred-dollar bills. And there was a box full of the counterfeit currency underneath the table, along with several blue plastic tarps. He picked up a couple of the hundreds, which looked and felt pretty convincing to him.

Ben Franklins.

He recalled the clerk’s words from the motel where he’d just missed Jordan a few days before. But why would Yanira counterfeit when she could have asked Winston to wish for all the money she wanted?

A noise pulled his attention out of the room, a muffled voice. He followed the sound to a wall of boxes piled ten feet high.

“Mmmm!”

He knew that voice. Behind the boxes he found her. Jordan was duct taped to a chair, and her mouth was sealed with more of it.

“Mmmmmmm!” she cried.

Just then the doors to the building creaked open and sunlight spilled inside, casting shadows on the walls and the ceiling above them.

Jordan gasped.

Cyrus touched his lips, warning her to keep quiet.

She nodded her understanding.

When he used his magic to free her, her eyes grew as big as saucers. He used his finger to write a message in neon smoke the air in front of her. “I am a genie. I will keep you safe.”

Her eyebrows shot higher for a moment. Then she nodded again. The need to fulfill Winston’s wish tugged at him, but he fought it. He had to.

Footsteps echoed in the cavernous building, coming closer.

“Thank goodness she didn’t spend much.”

Yanira.

He conjured up a highly sensitive but invisible voice recorder and sent it to stay right with Yanira and whoever was with her.

“She wouldn’t tell me where she’d spent any of it,” a man said. “At first.” His laughter sent a chill down Cyrus’s spine.

“How many did she use?” Yanira asked.

How many? That was a strange question. Until he remembered what he’d just seen at the printer. Suddenly it all made sense. That was no ordinary cash that Jordan had won—it was the counterfeit bills. And Jordan was the only person who knew where she’d spent the money. The only question remaining was why Yanira would make phony money when her husband could have wished for all they could ever need.

The conversation he’d overheard between Winston and Yanira last week played in his head.

“If you’d do what I ask and tell Cyrus that your wish is for a huge pot of cash, well that’d make me feel a little better,”

“We’ve discussed this, Yanira. I’m an elected official. How would we explain that we suddenly came into some huge sum? There’s no line item on tax forms for money obtained from a wish granted by a genie.”

But there had to more to it, another reason Winston hadn’t wished for money.

“She admitted to spending two of the bills,” the man said. “After some convincing.”

Cyrus clenched his jaw. Had the bastard done something to Jordan to make her talk? Glancing down at her, he couldn’t tell if she had any bruises. Of course, some forms of intimidation didn’t leave physical scars. His chest tightened.

“You’re so bad.” Yanira laughed and the footsteps halted. “I like it when you’re bad in the bedroom.”

After a few seconds, they started walking again, closer and closer.

Jordan grasped his arm with a trembling hand.

He nodded to assure her he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Closing his eyes, he honed in on the lapis stone he’d given Mallory. He saw her riding in the front seat of Winston’s car, gripping the dashboard, fear in her eyes. So he used his powers to get them there sooner.

A police siren wailed in the distance, and the footsteps stopped again.

“Cover up the money,” Yanira told her man.

“Get your ass over there and do it yourself,” he said. “I’m out of here.”

“Andy, what about us?”

Cyrus stepped out from behind the boxes. “Neither of you are going anywhere.” He surrounded them with a fifteen-foot steel fence.

Yanira’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You let me out of here right this second, Cyrus. You listen to me—”

He silenced her, which was way more satisfying than anything he’d done in years. “Shut up, Yanira.”

She gripped her throat and stomped her feet, pointing at him, having a very quiet temper tantrum while her boyfriend futilely attempted to climb the fence.

Winston ran inside the building, followed by Mallory. He went over to the fence and walked halfway around it before he said a word. When he was a few feet from his wife, he fisted his hands at his sides. “I never should have married you, Yanira.”

Jordan headed toward them, shuffling her feet for the first few yards. When Mallory saw her, she took off toward her, and embraced her twin.

“They’ve got counterfeiting equipment over there.” Cyrus tipped his chin toward the room in the back. I suspect that the jackpot money Jordan was given—probably by mistake—was part of that.”

Winston cringed. “I knew she’d leave me if she got her greedy hands on the riches she’s always wanted.”

Yanira grasped the fence and tried to shake it.

Winston radioed for backup. Then he motioned Cyrus over. “I know what my last wish is going to be.”

“You can’t wish her dead, Winston.”

“I know,” his master said.

Dread settled in Cyrus’s gut.

The sheriff stepped a few feet away from the fence. “Put handcuffs on both of them and remove the fence. “My wish is for the justice system to give them everything they deserve.”

Mallory extricated herself from her sister and rushed over to Cyrus. She had to know what this meant. He had to be strong, and so did she, but staring into her tear-filled eyes, his heart broke.

“Please, Cyrus. Do it,” Winston said. “Half of my police force will be here any minute.”

Pulling Mallory into his arms, he gave her one final kiss before setting his master’s last wish in motion. The fence disappeared, and Yanira and her co-conspirator stood in the middle of the building with their hands cuffed behind their back.

Cyrus’s lamp clanged on the ground at his feet. The familiar gold shackle closed around his neck with a metallic click. Purple smoke surrounded him, obscuring everything and everyone, and sucked him back into his prison.

Chapter Ten

Three weeks later…

Mallory was really trying to get excited about the new house at Pumpkin Point. With boxes to unpack still cluttering almost every room, the disarray all around her was wearing on her.

No, that wasn’t the real problem. But since there wasn’t a darn thing she could do about how much she missed Cyrus, why dwell upon it?

She hammered a nail into the wall over the fireplace then climbed down from the step ladder and hung the portrait photograph she’d had made of her and Hazel.

“Ooh, that looks perfect there.” Jordan loaded the last few books into the built-in bookcase. “Maybe I’ll have one taken of Truffle and me. What do you think?” She picked up the pooch and made a silly face.

Mal shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

Jordan huffed. “Sister dear, I’m getting worried about you. It isn’t like you to be so down in the dumps. You have to shake off your grumps.”

Nodding, she tried for a smile, but was pretty sure she’d failed miserably. “I’m working on it.” She’d taken Stevie’s advice to double up on her gratitude meditations, and had even started doing a weekly yoga class that her friend recommended. Nothing helped for long, though.

Jordan got up from the floor and brushed off her hands. “I know you miss Cyrus, but he’s gone, honey. You have to move on. If you think about it, your glass is definitely half full. You’ve got a great job, a gorgeous new house, a sweet and adorable kitten, and last but definitely not least, you have your twin staying with you.”

Mal frowned at the last part. “Temporarily.”

Jordan held up her hands in surrender. “Temporarily, yes. As soon as I find the perfect job, I’ll be able to get my own place.”

In truth, as much as her sister was a bit of a pain to have around since it meant Mallory was constantly cleaning up after her, it was easier not to be alone. Jordan was right, though. Cyrus was never coming back. There was no way that he could, so she had to buck up and get over him. And think about other things. Like her sister’s livelihood, or the lack thereof. “What would the perfect job for you be?”

Jordan plopped down onto the sofa. “Obviously, something involving animals would be good.”

“Obviously, but I don’t think that working for a zoo or a store where they sell anything that might have been tested on animals would be a good fit for you.”

“True that.” Jordan frowned. “I can’t sit around and not do anything when I know that innocent creatures are being put in situations that make them miserable.”

Truffle and Hazel ran to the living room window. The kitten jumped onto the sill and the dog put her front paws there and barked.

Jordan raised her brow. “What are you two looking at out there?”

Mallory glanced outside into the moonlit night, but didn’t see anything out of place in her new cul de sac. “Probably just a squirrel.” She broke down the box that her twin had just finished unpacking. “Perhaps a business of your own would be a better choice for you, Jordan.”

“In a perfect world, I’d love to have my own dog-walking and pet-sitting service.” She put her feet up on Mallory’s brand new coffee table. “Unfortunately, all those pretty hundred-dollar bills I won were confiscated by the cops, so I can’t use them for startup funds.”

“Um, because they were fake. But startup costs for a business like that would be almost nothing.” The reminder of Yanira’s counterfeiting scheme brought with it thoughts of Cyrus. They’d only had a few days together, yet after losing him, she’d never felt so empty and alone. She crumpled onto the ottoman.

“I’m sorry. I never should have mentioned the money or any of that stuff.” Jordan rushed over and pulled her into a hug. “Let’s talk about something else. Is it true that the salon hosts a big holiday party every year? Only six more weeks until Christmas.”

Mal wasn’t excited about the holidays this year. “Yup, we have an annual gala at the Hair Scare. Speaking of the salon, if you’re serious about starting a business, I can help you make up some pamphlets and give them out to my clients, and we can take them into some of the downtown businesses, like the veterinary clinic where I take Hazel, and the pet store.”

A big smile lit up Jordan’s face. “You’d really do that for me? After the pain in the butt I’ve been lately, and all the awful things I did when we were growing up?”

Mal thought about their relationship and all its ups and downs. “I was terrified after you were kidnapped. Yes, we have some issues to work out, but I’m the eternal optimist. I have a good feeling that you’ve learned your lesson.”

Jordan’s eyes misted. “I have, believe me. While I was blindfolded and tied up in that awful man’s trunk for hours on end, I had lots of time to think about my life and all the stuff I screwed up. I owe you an apology, several apologies, actually.”

Mal rubbed her sister’s arm. “We’ll call this our fresh start, okay?”

“I love you, Mal.”

“Me too.” Wiping away a rogue tear, she began collecting the rest of the empty boxes scattered around the room. “Tomorrow is recycling pickup day. I’m going to put these outside.” Without waiting for her twin’s response, she carried her burden out the kitchen door and hit the button to raise the garage door. When she dropped the cardboard into the recycling bin, a weird scraping noise caught her attention. It sounded as if some sort of rodent was digging in the dirt. The last thing she needed was for raccoons, possum, or mice to get inside her garage. She grabbed a broom from the rack on the wall. Carefully making a wide arc around the trashcans, wielding the broomstick like a weapon, she spotted something metal, half buried under a small pile of leaves.

Her heart pounded. She set aside the broom, crouched down and started digging through the leaves. Was she dreaming again? Could it really be? Her breath caught as she reached for the gold lamp.

Wishing with all her heart and soul that this was Cyrus’s lamp, and that it had miraculously found its way to her, she rubbed the smooth metal.

The lamp flew out of her hands and clattered on the ground. It rocked and spun around. Suddenly a plume of purple smoke escaped the narrow spout and grew to a small tornado, right before her eyes. She clasped her fingers, willing Cyrus to appear.

The smoke dissipated, and he stood there, beaming at her.

She leaped into his arms, touched his face, his shoulders. Yes, he was real. He was there, with her. “How did you—”

He silenced her with a kiss.

She melted against him, drinking in his scent, his taste, his touch. When they finally came up for air, she couldn’t bring herself to let go of him. “I have no idea how you’re really here. Now I’m afraid to let loose of you.”

“Genies are all about wishes.” He threaded his fingers through her hair. “Someone somewhere must have heard yours.”

She wanted to pinch herself to be sure that Cyrus was actually there. “S-so I get to make three wishes?”

He nodded. “Absolutely, mistress.”

“You don’t have to call me that. It sounds a little…kinky or something.”

“Would you like to think about your first wish?”

How could she want anything more? Having him there with her restored all her hopes and dreams for a happy future, all of her possibilities. She thought about what would make him content, but realized that they’d never discussed anything he wanted—except his freedom. “Is there anything you love about being a genie?”

Scratching his chin, he stared off into space for a moment before meeting her gaze. “Fulfilling wishes for some people is satisfying on a certain level, especially for those deserving of them. Doing magic is pretty sweet, but…”

“What?”

His lips flattened to a thin line. “If I had a choice, I’d never opt to be a genie.”

“You’d choose freedom, and give up your magic and immortality?”

He nodded. “I’d much prefer decades of freedom than immortality in chains.”

She thought about how long he’d been shackled to one master or another. Her chest constricted. “Then that’s my wish.”

His jaw dropped. “Your wish is for me not to be a genie anymore?”

“Yes.”

“I wouldn’t be able to grant your other two wishes after that.”

Shrugging her shoulder, she said, “I don’t need any others.”

“Are you sure?”

“Surer than I’ve ever been about anything before.”

He scooped her into his arms and kissed her passionately.

Centering a hand on his chest, she stepped back. “Cyrus, my wish is for you to be free, no longer a genie.”

The purple smoke came back and swirled around him. Then it dissipated into the night air. He offered her his hand, and they headed inside together.

About the Author

Wynter Daniels has authored more than three dozen romances, including contemporary, romantic suspense, and paranormal romance books for several publishers including Entangled Publishing and Carina Press. She lives in sunny Florida with her family and a very spoiled cat. After careers in marketing and the salon industry, Wynter’s wicked prose begged to be set free. You can find her on the web on Facebook, Twitter and her website.

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Also By Wynter Daniels

The Best Man’s Proposal: Publisher: Entangled Publishing, 9/2017

The Fortuneteller’s Folly: Publisher: Sugar Skull Books, 5/2017

Chasing the Stag: Publisher: W. Daniels, 11/2016

Emerald Intrigue: Publisher: W. Daniels, 11/2015

Shades of Sexy, Box Set: Publisher: W. Daniels, 01/2015

The Surrogate Husband: Publisher: Entangled Publishing, 12/2014

The Witches of Freedom Moon, Box Set: Publisher: W. Daniels, 04/2014

Dream Magic - The Witches of Freedom Moon, Book Three: Publisher: W. Daniels, 04/2014

Killer Magic - The Witches of Freedom Moon, Book Two: Publisher: W. Daniels, 10/2013

Hidden Magic - The Witches of Freedom Moon, Book One: Publisher: W. Daniels, 10/2013

Burning Touch & Tropic of Trouble: Publisher: W. Daniels, 4/2014

False Pretenses: Publisher: W. Daniels, 06/2011

Bride from the Black Lagoon: Publisher: W. Daniels, 05/2011

Protective Custody: Publisher: Carina Press, 05/2011 (ebook & audio book)

Employee Relations: Publisher: W. Daniels, 04/2011 (ebook and print)

Game of Smoke and Mirrors: Publisher: W. Daniels, 03/2011

Playing With Barbie: Publisher: Loose Id, 03/2010

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

About the Author

Also by Wynter Daniels