Dark Rival. Brenda Joyce
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