Free Between Darkness and Daylight by Gracie C. Mckeever

as if being in the city was enough of a reminder of what she needed to do. For a while, being here had been enough to keep the visions at bay.
    Not anymore.
    Her head spun from all the speculating. She wasn't her mother and hadn't asked for this ability, this "assignment", resented being forced into such an untenable position. Hell, the woman had come all the way across the country in death, bypassing several states and friends and relatives, to find her, ask her for a favor.
    Why her and not someone else closer, more willing and capable?
    Maybe she was as close as Sinny could get. Maybe Sinny had gotten turned around in space and time, making a left at some ethereal intersection when she should have made a right. Maybe 3,000 miles in Between Darkness and Daylight
    55
    real, live time was like a block in near-death experience, bright lights, and tunnel time.
    Why her? she wondered again and heard her father's deep voice answering as he had time and again during her childhood and youth: "Why not you?"
    Nova heard noises rising up from downstairs. How long had she been standing there in the middle of the kitchen like a zombie? Zane and Ransom must be half-done with her computer room, either tearing it up, from the sounds of it, or painting it.
    She went down the stairs to investigate and paused when she got to the bottom step, listening to the loud laughter and hysterical giggling.
    How dare they have fun in there without her!
    She tiptoed down the cream-carpeted hallway, past the laundry room and the downstairs half-bathroom, then finally paused on the threshold of the computer room, where a paint-fight was in full swing. Like any good uncle worth his salt, Zane had taken up brush and roller to help his boy.
    Only he wasn't painting the walls as much as he was painting his nephew.
    The boy looked like an extra from Braveheart , with several streaks of blue color marking his face like war paint.
    Ransom, however, had given as good as he'd gotten. Zane's black jeans and gray baseball Henley were mostly blue now. Ooh boy, she was going to have a nice time washing those.
    Yo-Yo was right in the middle of the action, barking and leaping up and down and running back and forth between man and boy like the toy he was named after, paint staining his copper-gold coat in lovely blue polka dots and stripes. Nova covered her mouth to stifle her giggles—not that they would have heard her over their own loud laughter—and watched the three boys for several moments, her heart filling at the rightness of the scene.
    They belonged here, probably more than she did. She was beginning to wonder where she belonged, if she belonged anywhere at all.
    Moving forward, she picked up a stray brush and soaked it good as she made a move to join the fray and rid herself of her pathetic woe-is-me thoughts.

    56
    Gracie C. McKeever
    "Need a fourth for your little paint party?" She stood with one fist on her hip, the other hand waving the brush from side to side with seductive threat.
    "Oh, you don't want any of this," Zane said.
    "I beg to differ."
    "You want to smellllll what The Rock is cooking?"
    Nova burst out laughing, caught off guard by his hilarious
    impersonation of her favorite wrestling personality.
    She wanted to do more than just smell what Zane Youngblood was cooking. She wanted to touch him, wrap her arms and legs around him and let him rock inside her wet cunt until they were both spent.
    Zane crouched, placing his roller on the plastic-covered floor, then stood back up and stalked closer. Suddenly he rushed her, feinting a tackle, and snatched her up, throwing her over his shoulder fireman-style.
    Then Ransom did his job, painting her backside and splattering her hair.
    "Put me down!"
    "You asked for i—whoops!"
    Nova didn't think she had ever heard a grown man say "whoops"
    before. Her heart jumped at the suggestion that something was about to go wrong. She had a second to brace herself before they crashed to the floor in a tangle of arms