“Don’t have to ask twice.” Godiva cackled.
Nikos glanced toward the door to the front of the store, knowing that Jen wanted to hear Godiva’s reading. He hesitated between going to find her and staying so that he could fill her in on what she missed. Remembering what Linette had said about Jen and the other person having things well in hand, he decided he’d be in the way out front, and sat where he was—and in spite of his determination to listen to Godiva, he found his mind staying on Jen.
Jen Carlsen. Even her name thrilled him with promise. This reading would soon be over. Another time he knew he would enjoy it more, but right now all he could think about was the night ahead, just the two of them. He suppressed a smile of anticipation. Her kisses were as wonderful as her name.
The door to the front opened—but it was just the wispy young woman. She dropped quietly back in her seat as Godiva kept reading.
He realized he’d missed the opening, but his attention caught up in the narrative as soon as Godiva began describing a fight. He recognized some of the moves from his scrap with Jen. Godiva might not be a martial artist, but she had a way with words, and as he listened, he was highly entertained to discover that he had become a cyber-warrior complete with mirror-shades and chrome armor, whereas Jen was now decked out in glittering black armor, with glowing laser eyes—
Between one heartbeat and the next, his unicorn surged up within him, flooding Nikos’s mind with awareness of the mythic plane. The mate bond gleamed bright, though still incomplete. Nikos tried to shut out Godiva’s voice and his surroundings . . .
Something is wrong with our mate, the unicorn bugled. Run, run, run!
NINE
JEN
Jen eased through the swinging door. “Linette?”
Linette looked up from a mess of shattered glass and what looked like three different types of jam mixed up on the floor. “Oh, Jen. Angelique,” she added, seeing the young college student at Jen’s shoulder. “I stupidly caught my toe against the table there, and there go the fancy elderberry and strawberry jams I was going to put out for the scones. I can have this cleaned up in a jiffy.”
“Not broken glass,” Jen said. “Jiffies and shards are a bad combo. Let me help.”
“Yes. We can get it,” Angelique said softly. “You’re the moderator.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll get some more from the storage.”
Linette scurried away.
“I know where she keeps the cleaning things,” Angelique whispered. “I worked for her all summer.”
“I remember!”
They’d just begun carefully sweeping up the glittering mess when Linette returned with a fresh tray. “Thanks again,” she whispered, and backed into the meeting room.
Together Jen and Angelique got the mess cleaned up and deposited in a sturdy trash can, then Jen said, “She clearly didn’t have a chance to take the day’s trash out. This thing is heavy. I’ll haul it out to the dumpster in back.”
Frail little Angelique eyed the heavy can dubiously, gave a relieved nod, and slipped into the meeting room.
Jen hefted the can and backed through the swinging door to the baking side of the shop, which was divided from the meeting room by a thin wall. She could hear the cadences of Godiva’s distinctive parrot squawk as she read, and she grinned as she elbowed the back door open. What would Nikos make of the fictionalized version of his scrap with her, after being put through Godiva’s writing filter?
Jen had played the villain for pretty much all those openings, and had enjoyed the various versions of her actions that had percolated from Godiva’s terrific imagination. As she headed for the dumpster, she thought happily that it was going to be fun to find what Nikos thought.
It was going to be fun to be with him.
Alone—
The image of being alone with Nikos and picking up where that kiss had left off grabbed her so vividly that she was utterly taken by surprise when the rustle of cloth and the hiss of footsteps closed in on either side.
She dropped the can with a crash, sidestepping as her hands came up, but heavy cloth shrouded her, tightening around her face and body as someone knocked her off her feet.
“In the car. Fast,” a muffled voice ordered: a man.
Jen was suffocating in that heavy cloth swathed around her face. First thing: breathe, she told herself. There was no immediate threat to her body, so she took the time to slow her breathing. That lowered the sense of panic, and helped her sense of readiness. Next: environment.
Though the cloth shrouded her, preventing her from seeing, she could use her other senses. She knew she’d been put in a car. It didn’t seem to be moving, though the engine was running. To either side a person pressed up against her. From what she could feel through the cloth, they were big. At least as tall as she was—she could hear through the muffling cloak that their breathing was on a level with hers.
Maybe a few seconds had passed, though it had felt like forever as she’d labored to breathe. The plan now? Utter no threats. Wait, quiet, passive, and watch for an opportunity to move. Don’t waste strength in yelling or struggling.