He stepped closer. Dee stepped back. The street by the store had emptied, and the wind had kicked up, catching a flyer for the Elks’ chicken dinner and plastering it against the Civic Pride trash container on the corner. At the horizon, a gathering of clouds showed purple. Portents of the storm to come.

‘You can explain about my Aunt Xan.’

He offered a chagrined grin. ‘She said you’d be upset.’

‘And she’d be right.’ Dee shoved her hair off her forehead. ‘I’m not fond of liars. I’m even less fond of people who play games.’

He held up his hands, the image of innocence. ‘No more games. No lies. I shouldn’t have done it in the first place, but this was important to Mr Delaney. And…’ He shrugged, looking faintly ashamed. ‘I didn’t know you then.’

‘Well, you know me now,’ she said. ‘So you can begin to make amends. And that begins with how you really found us.’

‘Will you tell me more about your parents?’

Dee couldn’t help staring at him, presumptuous prick.

‘You’re just going to have to stick around and find out, aren’t you?’

She really hated this. How could she know what to do? Her instincts were to run. Well, first to beat the crap out of him with her briefcase and then run. But if she ran, she’d never know just what his relationship was to Xan. What Xan really wanted.

If only she hadn’t seen him in the dust. If only Mare hadn’t put that suggestion in her head.

‘Would you like to go back to the Fork?’ he asked. ‘I think they like me there.’

Dee snorted. ‘They’d have your babies there. But no, I’d rather have some privacy.’

‘My room?’

‘Privacy, Mr James.’ She looked around the uninspiring streets for inspiration. ‘I walk up the stairs at the Lighthorse with you, and by morning every woman in town is going to be camped in my front garden wanting details.’

‘Your place.’

She didn’t even bother to answer. Danny James was not coming anywhere near her house.

‘It’s a nice night,’ Danny said, looking back toward the river. ‘You want to try the mountain?’

Dee looked that way herself. The late light bathed the cliffs in gold, and the moon hung half seen amid the trees. Maybe that wasn’t a bad idea. She did feel as if she had power up atop those cliffs.

Danny waited patiently for her, his hands still stuffed in his pockets, his hair rippling in the gusting breezes, that silver chain glinting just once against his neck. Dee still didn’t have on any underwear. She’d still be forced to snuggle up to him all the way up the mountain…

Slapping the briefcase against Danny’s chest, she stalked over to the bike. ‘Fine. But it had better be everything I’ve ever dreamed of.’

She caught Danny’s delighted smile out of the corner of her eye and decided to ignore it. Within five minutes, she was glad she did. And not because she wanted to see the cliffs. Danny had taken the route along the old Cobblestone Road, something Dee had never done on a bike. Maybe it was the no-underwear business. Maybe it was because Dee was already about as on edge as she could be. Suddenly the bike was acting like a big, bloodred vibrator. Good God. Did Mare know about this? Considering all the time Mare had spent on a bike with Crash, Dee’d bet it was a certainty. Maybe if things worked out, Dee’d spring for a bike herself. And find another town with lots of cobblestones.

They left the cobbles somewhere between delight and disaster, and made it the rest of the way up Salem’s Mountain without incident. If Dee hadn’t known any better, she would have sworn Danny had been up here before. He didn’t just instinctively ride right to her favorite spot. When he climbed off the bike, he walked straight into the stone circle by the edge of the cliff.

Dee loved to stand dead center in the circle by the standing stone, where she swore she could gather power through her fingertips. Danny James stopped in the same exact place. Dead center.

Digging his hands back into his jeans pockets, he looked around him. ‘This place should be reserved for pagan rituals, ya know?’

Dee should have known. ‘Really? Why do you say that?’

He shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I can see witches dancing here, I guess. Right at the edge of the world, with the full moon rising over this big rock.’

She found she could actually smile. ‘Did you know you’re standing in a stone circle?’

He literally jumped back. ‘Here?’

She walked in through the southernmost portal and lifted her face to the sky, just like always. ‘Legend has it that about three hundred years ago witches used to dance here during the full moon.’

He stared at her. ‘You’re lying.’

‘Nope. Lots of magic here. You must have felt it.’

That made him look spooked. ‘Not at all. I’m a researcher. I imagined it. I’m always doing things like that.’

Or he heard the old voices, just as she did. When she wasn’t crouched in the grass nibbling clover, that is. She spent a lot of time on this mountain in fur.

‘It’s time to talk,’ she said.

He refused to face her. If she’d tried to pull the scam he had, she wouldn’t have faced her, either. Still, she couldn’t believe how sad she was. Just more proof that she had no business fantasizing, she guessed.

Danny deliberately walked outside the circle and eased down against the big oak that shaded it. ‘Come into my office,’ he said, arms on bent knees.

Dee was sure she should say no. She needed to protect herself from this man, after all.

No she didn’t. Xan was coming for them. By tomorrow night, she’d be gone from Salem’s Fork. How much could Danny James hurt her in twenty-four hours? More than he had, anyway. So she eased herself down to the ground, close enough to him to feel the heat from his body in the cool evening air.

‘I’m glad you left your hair down,’ Danny said, as Dee stretched out her legs and tugged her skirt over her knees. ‘With your hair down, I can imagine you dancing up here with the old girls. Come to think of it, that might be fun. Full moon’s coming in a day or two. Why don’t we come back up and dance?’

Beltane, ancient holiday of fertility. Just the idea sent a waterfall of shivers through her. If there was anybody she wished she could have danced for on the night of Beltane, it would have been Danny James. Especially considering what traditionally came next. Literally.

‘My Aunt Xan,’ she said out to the deepening cobalt of dusk. ‘How did you find her?’

But Danny just shook his head, slipping his arm around her shoulder. ‘Not yet,’ he demurred, resting his head atop hers. ‘Let’s just enjoy the night for a bit first, huh?’

Damn him. He fit so comfortably. He sounded so reasonable. She had no business trusting him, especially considering the fact that just his touch was setting off more electricity than Mare in the throes of her power. But it was so beautiful up here. So spiritual in a way no modern church leader would comprehend. There was power and grace and bone-deep joy here, where the witches had danced. It had always been her spot. Now, she’d never think of it again without feeling Danny James’s cheek resting against her hair.

‘Actually,’ he said after a few minutes of companionable silence, ‘Xantippe found me.’

Dee closed her eyes, stricken. Then Xan had sent him. Could there be any way on earth to separate them in her mind now?

He lifted his head. His arm stayed where it was. ‘I had… um, just gotten the assignment,’ he said, ‘and had spent time doing the primary research. I contacted your parents’ organization, and a few of their old employees. Who wouldn’t talk, thank you very much. Whatever else your parents did, they inspired loyalty.’

‘I know. And Xan?’

‘Said that she’d heard about me from one of them. Wanted me to get the story right, and thought the best place to start would be with you three.’