Free Three Days of Dominance by Cari Silverwood Page B

forgotten that! Now there was something harder to fake than a shiny egg, and she could easily check it out.
    She went into the bathroom and looked at her forehead in the mirror above the sink. Like a tiny vine growing on her temple, it curled black and delicate just above the corner of her eyebrow. Not some false memory at all—it was really there. Hesitantly, she touched it. His finger had done the same not so long ago. Just the barest, lightest touch had sizzled through her. The memory raised more goose bumps.
    It even seemed as if the tendril had grown an extra curl since she’d seen it in the garden. Maybe she should have sketched it, so she could compare. She snorted, amused at the thought of pulling out a camera or a sketchbook in the garden.
    Still no closer to getting a grip on the whole situation, she showered quickly, then dressed in underwear and a new pair of shorts and top, and padded over to where her laptop sat on her desk. She stared at it for a moment. Heketoro. Hmm.
    She switched the computer on, pulled over the swivel chair. Google would have to do. Surely it was a rare name.
    She tapped in the name and followed the links. Her eyebrows raised, she leaned back against the chair. A name from the Maori, New Zealand language, meaning faerie spirit . She giggled. There you go, Google had it right.
    Then she found a blog site that advised on, “How to survive a faerie encounter.” Halfway down it said to never make love to a faerie, because you could never find a human lover to surpass them.
    “Well,” she muttered, shivering, “nice to know that. A bit late though.”
    Hoping for an e-mail from her sister, Amy, she checked the inbox. Nothing except the usual “buy now” offers from miscellaneous stores. For the hundredth time, she scanned the other unread e-mails, somehow imagining she’d see Jacob’s name there. And sadness settled heavily in her flesh when she found nothing.
    Now Jacob would have talked this over with her—given her another perspective on the whole thing. And probably, she grinned, imagining his brusque tone, he’d have told her to “go for it,” being the gung-ho special forces type. Then he’d have shadowed her down to the lake as backup. Her grin faded.
    Their parents were dead. Jacob, was—she had to face it—dead also, even if the army wasn’t ready to finalize it. Family really meant only her and Amy, even if Amy had married. Should have meant. Whatever had happened to the blood-is-thicker-than-water crap? Spain might be half the world away, but surely the keyboard wasn’t that much of a stretch? She twisted her wristwatch a few times, toying with the notion of sending a message to Amy. If she got no reply, it would only make her feel worse.
    On impulse, she typed out a quick, Hi, how you going, Amy? I miss you. So does Killer . Then she ran out of steam and sent it off with a desultory tap of the key.
    She ran finger and thumb down her nose, sniffed back a tear, and rested her chin on her hand. Damn. Sometimes it seemed like she lived in a bubble separate from the rest of the world, and all that kept her from floating away was the police work. And now she had this—Heketoro. And that surely wasn’t good for her grip on reality.
    She pottered about, finding excuses not to walk out the door. Coffee and a day-old croissant and cheese made a quick late lunch. The leftover cheese bits went to Killer. She could never resist those sad eyes of his. Upon checking her phone, she found three text messages that Jacqui, Sarah, and Kirsty were off on a hiking trip for the weekend, as of several hours ago. The messages said they’d even knocked on her door. She frowned. How could she, Killer, and Heketoro have missed hearing all that?
    The phone’s battery died as she poked the keys. “Damn!”
    Plugged into the charger, the phone made a bleep and stopped recharging. She played with the phone, but it wouldn’t restart. She’d get another battery while she was out. This one