Dark Rival. Brenda Joyce
heal broken bones. At sixteen, she could heal an older person with severe pneumonia. At eighteen, she had given a boy run over by a car the use of his legs back. At twenty, she had healed a case of critical skin cancer.
She had to be careful—she had to be anonymous or she’d wind up being studied like a lab rat. Her mother often warned her to keep her powers secret.
There was so much she couldn’t do—she couldn’t give the blind their sight back, and she couldn’t raise the dead. But Allie wanted to try.
She threw all the white power she had into the girl. She sat with her, tears streaking her face, straining to give her more and more white healing light. The girl remained still; her eyes remained sightless. Her heart did not beat. Allie screwed her eyes shut, refusing to quit. If only she could resurrect this girl, and save one of the demon’s innocent victims! But it was hard to grasp her power now and bring it forth and send it to the girl. Still, Allie somehow sent another shower of healing power through the girl. It hurt to do so and she moaned. Allie realized she was at her limits; she felt depleted, drained, exhausted, and she knew she had no more power to give.
She hadn’t realized she was lying down, on her belly, until she clawed the dirt, seeking her healing power. But it was finally gone…
The ground began to spin.
Allie closed her eyes, dizzy and faint. She heard voices coming from the bar but she was too weak to even tense. They were coming her way and she couldn’t move—she was utterly defenseless. She strained her senses—there was no evil. Allie moaned and collapsed.
Her last conscious thought was that she had tried, but she hadn’t resurrected the dead.
ALLIE AWOKE, feeling heavy and drugged.
She opened her eyes, feeling as if they’d been glued shut, and tested her fingers and toes, her hands and feet, relieved that, although weak, everything was in working order. She’d been asleep, but not in her own bed, and she felt nauseous, too. She started, suddenly realizing that she was in a hospital room, hooked up to various monitors and an IV. What the hell?
And instantly, she remembered trying to bring the dead girl back to life and finally passing out. Someone must have found her and called 911.
She sat up. She was seriously exhausted from the effort she’d made, but not so much that she couldn’t get up and leave. She grimaced, imagining the questions she’d be asked when she summoned a nurse. Questions were to be avoided.
Allie tore the tape off the IV and was removing the needle as gently as possible when she felt warmth filling the room. She tensed, recognizing the white power, and looked up.
Her mother appeared by her bedside. Allie gasped in shock. Although her mother had died fifteen years ago, Allie had never forgotten her. Her legacy—and her compassion—had been far too great. There was no question that her mother had come to visit her from the dead, for the first time. She was as fair and blond as Allie was dark, with an oddly ageless appearance. Now she smiled at her, but her eyes shimmered with urgency.
It is time now, darling. Embrace your destiny.
Stunned, Allie reached out—but her mother was already fading. “Don’t go!” she cried, sliding from the bed to stand.
But her mother kept fading, becoming a vague shadow. Golden.
Her mother was speaking again! Allie could hear her, but her voice was weaker, nearly inaudible, as she drifted away.
But of course she was fading—it would be almost impossible for her to come back to this realm after being dead for so many years. “Mom! Don’t go! What is it?” She was shocked, thrilled, but she was also alarmed. If her mother was trying to communicate with her from the dead, after so many years of absence, something had to be terribly wrong.
Trust….
Her mother’s image was gone, and she was alone in the small, curtained cubicle. “Who do you want me to trust? I trust you!” she cried.
The golden Master.
Allie stiffened, confused and doubtful she had heard correctly—until a stunningly clear image formed in her mind.
One of the most gorgeous and masculine men she had ever seen took over her mind. Allie saw a bronzed hunk with disheveled, dark gold, sun-streaked hair—and he was stark naked. Her interest escalated. He was a mass of bulging muscles, interesting slabs and amazingly defined planes. The man was built like the mythological Hercules—and he was packed. He was drop-dead gorgeous, with nearly perfect but oh-so-masculine features set in a very strong face. His expression was terse and hard, with stunning silver eyes that were piercing.
His body belonged on a knight from another time. In fact, she could envision him with a sword in hand. At the same time, he looked ready to rock and roll.
She swallowed, terribly breathless.
What was she doing? She was hearing her mother, speaking from the dead, and fantasizing about the kind of man she’d never meet, except maybe in a romance novel. But his expression wasn’t one she could ever make up, not in a million years. What did that mean? And did it matter? She had to get the hell out of the hospital before someone tried to question her.
“Allie?”
Allie tensed as one of her best friends stepped through the curtains. Brianna Rose was a dead ringer for Jennifer Garner, but it was almost impossible to realize that, because she wore shapeless suits and black eyeglasses, and pulled her hair severely back. She was the shyest person Allie knew. She was also the smartest, a true techno-geek. Their gazes locked as Brianna hurried to her.
“Why did you cruise alone?” Brie whispered, her pretty green eyes clearly visible in spite of the serious spectacles she wore, which only enhanced her nerdy appearance. “I saw what happened!”
“I’m okay,” Allie whispered. Brie had the Sight. She was also highly empathic. Of course she’d have rushed to Allie’s side after she’d made herself so sick. “Aren’t you late for work?”
“It’s six in the morning,” Brie returned. “They brought you in at 3:00 a.m. I’m sorry! I was at HCU all night—I was so engrossed in a case—or I’d have known sooner. Sam and Tabby are outside. C’mon. Let’s get you out of here before CDA gets wind of this.”
Allie seized her hands. “Brie. I just saw my mom.”
Brianna hesitated. “We’ll talk later,” she said after a significant pause.
ALLIE STUDIED HERSELF critically in the mirror. Her father was holding a political fund-raiser and she had to be downstairs in a few moments. Concealer hid the dark circles that remained under her eyes. While she was feeling better, she was not herself and she knew it. She had gone too far, trying to raise the dead.
The sea-foam chiffon evening gown floated sensually down her body and made her olive complexion and dark eyes glow. Allie had used some serious teal eye shadow, dark liner and now she added pale gloss to her lips. For someone who’d awoken in the hospital that morning, she looked okay.
“Alison Monroe, you are late!” Her other best friend, Tabby, sailed into the room, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a bronze evening gown. She’d recently divorced and Allie knew the smile was fake—she’d been dumped for a younger woman and her heart was badly broken.
“You look awesome.” Allie smiled.
“Thanks. I almost feel pretty again,” Tabby said, closing the door. Tabby was of medium height, slim and blond; when she wasn’t practicing spells and scrying for evil, she was practicing yoga. She was a first-grade teacher and her ex was a Wall Street high roller. It had been a Cinderella story—or so they’d both thought. “I’m giving you a headsup. Brian wants to know why you walked out on him last night.”
Allie grimaced. “I guess I got caught.”
“Not for the first time,” Tabby said softly. “I hate it when you cruise alone! You could get hurt! You did