Free Fairytale by MAGGIE SHAYNE

which had never been dyed to match the copper-red hair
rose in twin arches. “Well, now. Isn’t that interesting? She had
eyes, you say?”
    Her voice was full of speculation, and her
double chin damn near quivered with amusement. “Ebony eyes,” he
said, careful to keep his voice cool and detached. “Hair to match,
long and curly. When she left, she seemed a
little...distraught.”
    She’d been distraught all right. Almost as if
looking at him— touching him— had shaken her as much as
looking at and touching her had shaken him. Why,
though? Why?
    What did she really want with him?
    A little voice inside whispered a warning,
once again. But it was quieter now. This need to see her again had
all but drowned it out. Still, he heard it, recognized it. A woman
with this kind of power over him—one he sensed was lying—was the
last thing Adam needed in his life right now.
    But despite the very real, icy fear that
writhed in the pit of his stomach at the thought
of seeing her, Adam was convinced he could handle this thing. He
could keep his feelings in check, talk to her as if she were just a
stranger. Hell, he only wanted to see her long enough to make her
tell him where they’d met before.
    Liar!
    As much as he detested dishonest women, he
figured he could stand her that long. Unless she decided to lie
about that, too.
    Maxine puckered her brows and sighed. “I just
don’t remember seeing anyone like that in here yesterday.
Sounds...pretty, though.” Reaching for her doughnut with one hand,
she flipped a few pages in her book with the other. Then stopped
abruptly. “Well, what do you know? Here she is. Hmm, that’s not my
writing. She must have stopped in while I was out to lunch. You
were right, someone stuck her name on the visitors list.”
    “Well?”
    She turned the book around and Adam leaned
down. Brigit Malone. Akasha, The Commons. That was all it said.
“What the hell is Akasha?”
    “Akasha?” The male voice from behind Adam
made him turn around to see his best student, Michael Sullivan,
lounging in the doorway. “Oh, come on, Mr. Reid. Akasha. You know,
the fifth element. The omnipresent spiritual power that permeates
the universe and all that.”
    Adam frowned. “I was talking real life, kid,
not religious myth.”
    “Skeptic,” Michael accused. Then he shrugged.
“Well, in real life it doubles as a flower shop on the Commons.
Great place. You ought to check it out.”
    Adam nodded slowly. “I think I will.”
    “Uh, can you do us a favor and wait ‘til
after class? Everyone’s waiting on you, Mr. Reid. I got elected to
come looking.”
    Jerking his wrist up to eye level, Adam
blinked in surprise. He was never late for anything. He was the
most notoriously prompt, the most organized man on campus. He never
got distracted like this.
    “Anything wrong, Mr. Reid?”
    “No.” He looked at his watch again,
confirming he was ten minutes late for his own class. Distractedly,
he started for the door.
    “You’re forgetting your briefcase, Adam.”
    He turned to Maxine, saw her plump finger
pointing to the floor where he’d set it down. Shaking his head, he
bent to pick it up.
    “You’re not yourself,” Maxine whispered at
him. She sent him a wink. “Must be those eyes.”
    Maybe it was. More likely, though, it was
this niggling feeling, half-anticipation, half-dread, when he
thought about seeing her again.
    He managed to get through class, but he was
thinking about seeing her, getting the answers to his questions,
the whole time. He couldn’t seem to carry a thought to completion
before he lost the thread. Couldn’t seem to concentrate, wasn’t
focused. The kids tossed their theories at him as to the origin of
the Celtic text, and he listened. Didn’t argue, didn’t question.
Just listened.
    It seemed to take forever, but the class
finally ended. His timer bell pinged and he walked out, just like
that. Papers strewn over the desktop. Drawers unlocked. And ten
minutes later, he was at