Dark Rival

She opened her eyes, feeling as if they’d been glued shut, and tested her fingers and toes, her hands and feet, relieved that, although weak, everything was in working order. She’d been asleep, but not in her own bed, and she felt nauseous, too. She started, suddenly realizing that she was in a hospital room, hooked up to various monitors and an IV. What the hell?

And instantly, she remembered trying to bring the dead girl back to life and finally passing out. Someone must have found her and called 911.

She sat up. She was seriously exhausted from the effort she’d made, but not so much that she couldn’t get up and leave. She grimaced, imagining the questions she’d be asked when she summoned a nurse. Questions were to be avoided.

Allie tore the tape off the IV and was removing the needle as gently as possible when she felt warmth filling the room. She tensed, recognizing the white power, and looked up.

Her mother appeared by her bedside. Allie gasped in shock. Although her mother had died fifteen years ago, Allie had never forgotten her. Her legacy—and her compassion—had been far too great. There was no question that her mother had come to visit her from the dead, for the first time. She was as fair and blond as Allie was dark, with an oddly ageless appearance. Now she smiled at her, but her eyes shimmered with urgency.

It is time now, darling. Embrace your destiny.

Stunned, Allie reached out—but her mother was already fading. “Don’t go!” she cried, sliding from the bed to stand.

But her mother kept fading, becoming a vague shadow. Golden.

Her mother was speaking again! Allie could hear her, but her voice was weaker, nearly inaudible, as she drifted away.

But of course she was fading—it would be almost impossible for her to come back to this realm after being dead for so many years. “Mom! Don’t go! What is it?” She was shocked, thrilled, but she was also alarmed. If her mother was trying to communicate with her from the dead, after so many years of absence, something had to be terribly wrong.

Trust….

Her mother’s image was gone, and she was alone in the small, curtained cubicle. “Who do you want me to trust? I trust you!” she cried.

The golden Master.

Allie stiffened, confused and doubtful she had heard correctly—until a stunningly clear image formed in her mind.

One of the most gorgeous and masculine men she had ever seen took over her mind. Allie saw a bronzed hunk with disheveled, dark gold, sun-streaked hair—and he was stark naked. Her interest escalated. He was a mass of bulging muscles, interesting slabs and amazingly defined planes. The man was built like the mythological Hercules—and he was packed. He was drop-dead gorgeous, with nearly perfect but oh-so-masculine features set in a very strong face. His expression was terse and hard, with stunning silver eyes that were piercing.

His body belonged on a knight from another time. In fact, she could envision him with a sword in hand. At the same time, he looked ready to rock and roll.

She swallowed, terribly breathless.

What was she doing? She was hearing her mother, speaking from the dead, and fantasizing about the kind of man she’d never meet, except maybe in a romance novel. But his expression wasn’t one she could ever make up, not in a million years. What did that mean? And did it matter? She had to get the hell out of the hospital before someone tried to question her.

“Allie?”

Allie tensed as one of her best friends stepped through the curtains. Brianna Rose was a dead ringer for Jennifer Garner, but it was almost impossible to realize that, because she wore shapeless suits and black eyeglasses, and pulled her hair severely back. She was the shyest person Allie knew. She was also the smartest, a true techno-geek. Their gazes locked as Brianna hurried to her.

“Why did you cruise alone?” Brie whispered, her pretty green eyes clearly visible in spite of the serious spectacles she wore, which only enhanced her nerdy appearance. “I saw what happened!”

“I’m okay,” Allie whispered. Brie had the Sight. She was also highly empathic. Of course she’d have rushed to Allie’s side after she’d made herself so sick. “Aren’t you late for work?”

“It’s six in the morning,” Brie returned. “They brought you in at 3:00 a.m. I’m sorry! I was at HCU all night—I was so engrossed in a case—or I’d have known sooner. Sam and Tabby are outside. C’mon. Let’s get you out of here before CDA gets wind of this.”

Allie seized her hands. “Brie. I just saw my mom.”

Brianna hesitated. “We’ll talk later,” she said after a significant pause.

ALLIE STUDIED HERSELF critically in the mirror. Her father was holding a political fund-raiser and she had to be downstairs in a few moments. Concealer hid the dark circles that remained under her eyes. While she was feeling better, she was not herself and she knew it. She had gone too far, trying to raise the dead.

The sea-foam chiffon evening gown floated sensually down her body and made her olive complexion and dark eyes glow. Allie had used some serious teal eye shadow, dark liner and now she added pale gloss to her lips. For someone who’d awoken in the hospital that morning, she looked okay.

“Alison Monroe, you are late!” Her other best friend, Tabby, sailed into the room, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a bronze evening gown. She’d recently divorced and Allie knew the smile was fake—she’d been dumped for a younger woman and her heart was badly broken.

“You look awesome.” Allie smiled.

“Thanks. I almost feel pretty again,” Tabby said, closing the door. Tabby was of medium height, slim and blond; when she wasn’t practicing spells and scrying for evil, she was practicing yoga. She was a first-grade teacher and her ex was a Wall Street high roller. It had been a Cinderella story—or so they’d both thought. “I’m giving you a headsup. Brian wants to know why you walked out on him last night.”

Allie grimaced. “I guess I got caught.”

“Not for the first time,” Tabby said softly. “I hate it when you cruise alone! You could get hurt! You did get hurt. Thank the gods Brie felt it so we could rescue you from the clutches of the police.”

Tabby no longer smiled. Tabby, Sam and Brianna knew her secret—they’d known she could heal since they’d become friends as children. But Allie knew their secrets, too. As Rose women, they all had powers, which they used to fight evil. Tabby and Sam were sisters, and Brie was their cousin. Although Brie worked in CDA, no one knew her ability to see the future, and they all kept the lowest profile imaginable. “I guess another one bites the dust,” Tabby remarked.

Allie glanced away. Brian had started to act like he was really interested in her, and that was not a good thing. Men had always swarmed to her like bees to honey. Yet she’d never been able to do more than go through the motions of being in love. She was twenty-five and she’d never been in love, not even a schoolgirl crush.

And she was always getting caught sneaking out in the middle of the night—and it was still just as hard trying to make up excuses. That behavior ended every relationship, sooner or later. Allie knew she didn’t have time for love. In fact, love would probably interfere with her destiny as a Healer.

“I’m so tired of lying—and hiding who I really am,” Allie said, sitting down on the bed. “But of course I’ll tell him you called with a broken heart and I had to come right over.”

“At least you’re not in love,” Tabby said significantly, referring to her own broken heart.

Before Allie could answer, Sam came in without knocking. While Tabby was as elegant as a woman could be, Sam had really short, choppy blond hair and favored distressed denim and biker boots. She had slipped on a very tiny, very immodest black dress for the affair, revealing the fact that she was as buff as a personal trainer, with a lot of black eye shadow and really pale lips. She was so beautiful that no amount of Rocker-Meets-Biker attitude could change that. “I heard that. Some of us are liberated women who need a guy for one thing only.” She winked at Allie.

Sam understood her—she always had. Sam was really tough—the kind of tough that happens when tragedy strikes in front of your face when you’re young, but old enough not to forget and move on. Unlike her sister, she was not romantic at all. Allie got it. She was on her own quest—hunting demons—and love would never get in the way.

“I wish I could be like you and Sam,” Tabby said very seriously. “I wish I could date and have a good time and walk away whole.”

“No one can change who they are,” Allie said softly. “You’re perfect the way you are.” She wasn’t going to reveal that sometimes she wondered what love felt like, that sometimes she was tired of being so damned alone.

Tabby snorted inelegantly. “Well, as I’m swearing off men forever, I guess that will be our secret.”

“Just swear off Mr. Right—because he’s always Mr. Wrong,” Sam said, sitting on a chair and crossing her long, chiseled legs.

Allie said, “You’ll meet someone who is as perfect for you as you are for him.” She smiled and went to the mirror, pretending that she wanted to touch up her makeup. She didn’t want to keep talking about love.

Tabby said softly, “Hey, are you forgetting I’m pretty telepathic?”

Allie glanced at Tabby’s reflection in the mirror. She wouldn’t trade her gift for anything or anyone, but her life was hard and isolating. She didn’t know what she would do without such incredible friends. She said firmly, “My life is helping others, not falling in love. I have never been in love—and I doubt I ever will.”

Allie turned and silently warned Tabby not to reveal her secrets. Tabby squeezed her hand. “On a more sober note, Brian’s pretty upset about last night, Allie. He asked me if you’re cheating on him.”

Allie bit her lip. “Can you send him into the arms of a really hot babe? By dawn he won’t remember me.”

Tabby gave her a look, but Allie knew she’d cave. No one was as kind or caring as Tabby and she’d never let Brian walk around heartbroken. Tabby finally smiled, just a little. “It’s against the rules to send him his soul mate, but I’ll try to set Brian up.”

Sam stood. “Duty calls, ladies.”

Allie didn’t move away from the bureau. “Any chance Brie’s here?” Allie asked.

Sam gave her an incredulous look. “Brie wouldn’t come to a party if her life depended on it. If she’s not at work, I guarantee you she’s at home, by her lonesome, with a glass of wine, buried in classified HCU files.”

HCU was the Historical Crimes Unit of CDA. “I need a favor from her,” Allie said.

Tabby stared, reading her thoughts. Allie had mentioned her mother’s visit that morning when they were in Sam’s SUV, on their way home from South Hampton Hospital. Now she thought about her mother’s strange words and the warrior-hard muscleman with a suntan. She tensed, actually feeling the stirrings of desire. “I need to know what she meant.”

Sam snickered. “No, you want to know if a golden sex machine is in your future. Man, I can always use one of those—although I prefer my men dark.”

Allie had to smile. “He’s mine, girl.”

Sam shrugged.

But Tabby was serious. “How many times have you wished for a warrior to help you while you healed? I do recall that being your exact word—warrior. I have this sense that your mother is sending you someone.” Her eyes were bright with excitement.

Allie’s heart raced. “Maybe she’s sending me a CDA agent.”

“Those guys are ex–Special Ops. That’d do the trick,” Sam said.

Tabby whispered, “I’m not Brie, not by a long shot, but should I get my cards?”

Allie tensed. Tabby was gifted with the Tarot. She didn’t have Brie’s incredible Sight, but the cards usually spoke to her. “Use mine.”

A moment later, Tabby had laid out a simple seven-card spread. While Allie was familiar with the cards, she never read them like Tabby, but she saw the Knight of Swords. “Is that him?” she asked quietly, the hairs rising on her neck as she looked at the knight on his white charger, sword in hand.

Tabby looked up. “No. That’s him.” She pointed to the Emperor. He had been dealt upside down.

Allie’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

“This spread is about him, Allie—and it is Fate.” She pointed. “Five of these cards are from the Major Arcana.”

Allie trembled. “I see that.”

“Someone is coming from the past—not your past. There is another woman here, and she’s hurt. The man is older, with great authority. He has power and faith, and his quest is Justice.” She added, “Allie, he is blessed.”

Allie breathed. It was hard to believe that her golden warrior would be an older man. “Is the other woman my mother? Is my mother hurt?” Had her mother become trapped between worlds? She’d heard it was possible and that might explain her odd visit.

“I don’t know who this other woman is, but like the Knight of Swords, she is a bridge between you and this man. She is very important to you both. She’s come up as the Queen of Cups. Allie? Your life is about to be turned upside down.” Tabby pointed at a card showing the Tower, which was being struck by lightning, people jumping from it. It was next to the Death card.

Every interpretation claimed the Death card did not symbolize death. Most readers refused to read literal death in the cards, but not Tabby. In her world, the Death card was just that, if juxtaposed correctly to other cards. “Does someone die?” Allie wasn’t chilled—the innocent died every day. Death was a fact of life.

“Someone dies,” Tabby whispered seriously. She pointed at the Sun, lying beneath Death. “But from the ashes, comes a new day.”

Their gazes locked.

Brianna stepped into the room, clad in a shapeless black pantsuit.

Allie started.

Brianna didn’t smile. She walked over to them and stared at the reversed Emperor. “He is here.”

IT WAS MIDNIGHT when Allie stepped outside onto the flagstone patio by the pool. She’d had enough of the fund-raiser. She didn’t give a damn about politics except when the politicians fucked up and the little guy suffered because of it.

She’d stolen out, leaving Brian at the bar with Tabby and a few other guests, not having had a chance to really talk with him. She had a rare headache, and knew she was still off from last night.

She wanted to get past the guests who were lingering at the brilliantly lit-up pool without being waylaid. She crossed the lawns, leaving the pool and her father’s guests behind, thinking about her mother, the golden warrior and Brie’s stunning statement. She paused by the split-rail fence so she could watch their Thoroughbreds grazing under the moonlight. Was her golden warrior really present?

Was her mother sending someone to her, someone to help her in her ambition to heal those in suffering?

Allie smiled almost sadly. On the day of her death, as if she’d known she was going to pass, Elizabeth Monroe had asked Allie to make vows. She’d sworn to keep her powers secret and worship as she’d been raised, in her mother’s ancient religion. And she had sworn to never turn her back on any suffering creature, great or small, human or beast, if it was Innocent.

Her father hadn’t ever gotten over his wife’s death. Her father was a Fortune 500 entrepreneur, as different from Elizabeth as anyone could be, and maybe that was why he’d loved her so. Unlike his friend Trump, he paid people to keep his name—and her and her stepbrother’s—out of the news. William Monroe hadn’t remarried, although he had many model girlfriends.

Allie loved her mogul father, but didn’t understand him very well. She had learned long ago not to let her father see her spiritual side, just as Elizabeth had hidden it from him when she was alive. He didn’t have a clue that she was a Healer. He expected her to serve on various boards and marry Brian or someone just like him. Allie didn’t mind being on the Board of Directors of the Elizabeth Foundation, which gave away huge sums of money to philanthropies and charities with her direction. She’d barely made it through high school, and while healing could easily be a full-time job, she didn’t dare do so openly. She was the Monroe heiress, and the media watched her pretty closely. She had to be careful, always.

She had to pretend to fit in with everybody in his world when she didn’t really fit in at all, except with Sam, Tabby and Brie—and the evil monsters who wanted to murder them all. Allie sighed, staring at the grazing horses. Even in bed with a great guy like Brian, she had to pretend to be something she was not. Allie was certain her father suspected that his wife had been far more than your average socialite; she was determined he’d never guess the truth about his daughter. But hiding out most of the time was hard.

And then she felt Brian, even before he called her name.

She shoved her brooding aside. Brian was approaching and she smiled at him, hoping Tabby would put a love spell on him really soon. He was going to be hurt and that went against her very nature. Unfortunately her sex drive was too high for her to avoid men and be celibate.

“Hey. Are you okay? First you split on me last night and tonight you’ve been quiet. You’re never quiet.”

Allie hesitated. “I have a headache. Are you still mad about last night?”

“You cut and ran, Allie,” he said quietly, but not with accusation.

“I couldn’t sleep so I went out for a drive.” That was, she thought, a part of the truth.

His gaze was searching. “You’re an amazing woman, Allie.” He hesitated. “It’s not happening, is it?”

He knows, she thought, saddened but relieved. She touched his arm. “I am awful at relationships, Brian. They never last. It’s not you. It’s me. I’m not like other women. I’ve never been in love.”

He shook his head. “That makes you even more desirable.”

It was time to tell him it was over, she thought. But then Allie tensed. A huge power had settled around them, hot and male.

She was stunned. She had never felt such power in her life. The power wasn’t dark or demonic. It was pure and white—but it was not a healing power, for it was charged with testosterone. It was aggressive.

Stunned, she tried to see across the pasture, past the horses, into the night. The power was holy. It came from her gods. But hadn’t Tabby said he had faith—that he was blessed? A terrible excitement consumed her.

And then she saw his aura.

Orange and crimson burned, powerful and bright, and she saw the man at last. The world around them vanished. Brian was gone, the horses disappeared, it was only her and him and the night. She had found her golden warrior.

And that was exactly what he was—the golden warrior she’d envisioned earlier, except he wasn’t naked. He wore a pale tunic and boots, his thighs bare, along with two swords and a plaid, which was pinned over one shoulder. He was a Highlander. He could have stepped out of Braveheart.

His gaze unwavering on her, he started to approach.

No, he had stepped out of time, she somehow thought. Allie trembled, her heart accelerating so wildly she felt faint. There was so much power emanating from him, and finally he was bathed in moonlight. Allie breathed hard. He was even better than she had dreamed. Big, bronzed, beautiful.

Their gazes met and locked.

“That guy’s a loon. Let’s go.” Brian took her arm.

But the man’s gaze held hers and Allie didn’t even feel Brian’s grasp; instead, she felt desire fist in her gut. His silver gaze widened as if he was startled by her somehow, too.

Then his face hardened. “Lady Ailios,” he stated, using an old Gaelic version of her name, speaking with a heavy brogue. “Dinna fear. MacNeil has sent me. T’is time.”

His words washed through her with such warmth she realized he was attempting to enchant her. But she didn’t mind. She smiled at him. “Okay.”

His gaze narrowed with suspicion.

“I am not afraid of you,” Allie whispered.

And she felt the dark coming. She froze—and he halfturned, stiffening. She knew he was sensing them, too.

A cloud turned the moon bloodred.

The warrior said firmly, in a tone of command, “Ailios. Go into the house with yer man.” And as he spoke, she saw his aura erupt in a blast of more intense red and gold light. It was savage determination, explosive and hot; it was the battle readiness of a warrior.

But Allie wasn’t going anywhere. “Are you kidding?” Allie cried. Real concern for Brian began. He’d get hurt if he stayed to fight. She whirled. “Hey.” She smiled and pressed close. “I know this guy from high school. Yes, he’s weird, but he’s harmless.” She could barely believe such a lie. “I know we have to finish our conversation. Let me get his number and I’ll meet you in my room. Bring a bottle of Dom,” she added with another smile.

Brian’s eyes widened. “I don’t like leaving you with him, Allie. But we do need to talk.”

Allie wanted him to rush off and she almost hopped up and down. “He’s on his way to a costume party at the Grussmans’ in Bridge Hampton.”

He stared suspiciously at her.

“Go to her room an’ take her with ye. Go now,” Mr. To-Die-For said.

And a terrible chill fell.

“Allie, let’s go.” Brian took her arm, clearly enchanted.

Allie tried to pull free but failed, for she was too small to succeed. “I am not going,” she told the golden warrior, their gazes locked. “I will fight, too. I’ll help!”

His eyes widened incredulously. “Ye think to fight?”

And black clouds filled the space between them.

The chill became arctic.

The warrior seized her, pulling her behind his huge body as if he meant to be her human shield. The demons formed, all blond and perfect. They were the highest level of diabolical power. Allie took a stiletto from her garter as one demon was flung backward by the Scot’s energy blast. Allie was jubilant—he had the kind of power the demons had! She tried to step past him as Brian was thrown to his back by a demon. But more energy was being hurled at them and she was flung back herself, landing hard on the grass. For one moment, pain exploded in her back, and she was stunned. Then she rallied and looked up and saw the golden warrior, sword in hand, behead two demons almost simultaneously. Only one demon remained—somehow, while she’d been flung backward, he’d vanquished the third.

Allie got up. He was like a frigging superhero, and just what the world needed. She wanted to jump and cheer but she saw Brian, lying facedown in the grass.

The single remaining demon was almost as tall and muscular as the warrior, but he wore long, dark robes—like a friar or a monk. Allie was certain he’d come from a past era, too. He murmured, “Ruari Dubh, ciamar a tha thu?” He grinned. Black Royce, how are you?

Allie crept closer, grasping the knife, understanding every word of the Gaelic the demon spoke, although she had only ever translated the prayers bequeathed her by Elizabeth. Brian wasn’t dead, but he was hurt, bleeding internally, and his life was compromised. Rage engulfed her. She was not going to let him die, too.

The demon looked at her. “Hallo, a Ailios. Latha math dhulbh.”

“Fuck you,” Allie cried, and she lunged past the warrior, intending to stab the demon in the eye if she could. It would not be the first time she had blinded a demon, at least partially.

But the golden warrior seized her arm, pulling her back into his embrace where she writhed furiously, wanting a chance to murder the demon. “Stay still,” he roared at her. “Or do ye wish to die?”

The blond demon laughed at Allie. “Latha math andrasda.” He vanished.

Allie stopped struggling and began shaking wildly instead. Goodbye for now. What did that mean?

As sick with fear as she was for Brian, she was shockingly aware of being in the warrior’s thick, impossibly strong arms. His body was huge and hard and powerfully male—and she felt a very large package stirring beneath her. She closed her eyes—she had to heal Brian. It was hard, because her body began screaming at her, delicious sensation rushing across her skin, inflaming every fiber of her being. “Let me go so I can help Brian,” she said hoarsely.