“I call ‘em as I see ‘em.” He shot me a shit-eating grin and polished off the rest of his food.
“You’re an ass. It’s a good thing I like you.”
“You’d be a sad, lonely old man if you didn’t have me to talk to. I keep you young.”
He wasn’t wrong. “All right, so tell me a little more. I’m not saying yes to anything, but I’ll let you talk.”
He instantly brightened. “Okay. She’s thirty-five and absolutely stunning. Bright red hair, these captivating emerald-green eyes. Curves for days on a petite body. But built, you know? She takes care of herself for sure.”
He played with his napkin a bit. “And she’s the sweetest. Oversees the entire cast and crew like she’s the team mom. Not to mention, she’s badass. She has talents I’ve never seen before. Like I always knew magic was a thing, but I didn’t reallygetit until I saw her and Dev in action. The boss would be seriously lost without her. I don’t think the show would be the same if he hadn’t found her. Did you watch the early seasons?”
Shit. How to tell him? I grimaced. “I don’t watch at all.”
“What?” He slammed his hand on the table, rattling the plates and silverware, and then looked around. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled to our neighbors a few spots over, raising his hand placatingly before turning his attention back on me.
“You’ve never watchedHaunted New Orleans? Like, ever?”
I shook my head. “Sorry, bro. Just not my thing.” I shrugged. “I don’t watch much TV at all, truth be told. When I’m not working, I like curling up with a good thriller or horror, maybe popping in my headphones and listening to an audiobook or a podcast—usually while I work out. I also enjoy spending as much time as I can outside.” I shook my head. “And now I feel like I’m taking out a dating app ad.”
Turner laughed. “And long walks on the beach, right?” He shook his head. “All right. I’m not going to fault you for doing what you enjoy, even if you are reinforcing myold manassertion. But it really is a great show. You should check it out sometime.”
“Maybe I will, given you’re working for it. Now that you mention it—orImention it,”—I laughed—“I should probably watch some now thatI’mworking for it.”
Turner tipped his glass in my direction and then downed the rest of his ginger beer. “Yeah, that would probably be a good idea.” He pointed at my empty glass. “One more round? I’d love to talk to you more about Larken and maybe get you to agree to a blind date. I think I can get her to come around to the idea with my considerable charm.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Smart, good-looking, and humble, too.”
“What can I say? I’m a catch.”
For the next half hour, Turner told me all about Larken Maynard. Honestly, she sounded terrific. If nothing else, maybe I could make a friend while in town, and it’d be nice to know someone besides Turner before I started working for the show.
By the time we walked out Brennan’s French double doors, I had a date.
Maybe finding someone new to spend time with would finally help me move past the feelings I couldn’t let go of. Because it had been nearly twenty years, and they were still as strong as they were back when I was in high school. Sometimes, those who rooted themselves so deeply in your heart were just there to stay. They became a part of who you were.
And perhaps that was okay—even if it hurt a little sometimes.
Chapter3
“You’re in a cult. Call your dad.”
~Karen Kilgariff
The episode ended, and Lionel threw his highball glass, shattering the seventy-five-inch plasma screen in front of him.Howhad he not known where she was all these years? She was nearly living under his nose, taunting him, mocking him, and he’d had no idea. Had Dawn?
He felt for his wife’s current situation; hedidlove her in his own way, after all. But if she’d done everything that she should have, if she’d lived as she should have and followed his teachings and edicts, she wouldn’t be wasting away right now, eaten bit by bit and dissected piece by piece by cancer. It was his job to guide his people to salvation—through his teachings and discipline. Even if she didn’t get to walk at his side in the new world, she must do penance. And he hadn’t taken it easy on her just because she was frail. The Divine wouldn’t want that. Especially if she had any hope at all of at least being among the devout in their final place of rest. He’d done what he could to ensure that.
But Balance of Light for true believers meant life everlasting and no illness. Because as the prophet, he knew what the Divine needed and expected of them, and he made sure they provided. He must have gone wrong somewhere with his wife, though. He’d assume the responsibility for that, but she would pay the ultimate price. Now, the disease would mete out her final lessons.
He looked back at the television in front of him, staring through the bullseye wound and spiderwebbed cracks to the frozen image beyond. Bright copper-red hair instead of golden-streaked strawberry-blond. Simpering emerald eyes instead of rebellious, acidic green. A bigger chest. Thicker thighs. Slimmer hips and waist. But he’d know that face anywhere. It featured prominently in both his dreams and nightmares.
The only one of his flock to ever even dare defy him. Deny him. He’d possessed so many throughout the years, their gifts now living in him. Reprocessed and turned from darkness to light. Evil to sacred with him as the catalyst. Working through him for the good of the community. The only people worthy of salvation when the end times came. And theywouldcome. And when the world ended, Balance of Light would return and repopulate it with the just and worthy.
Starling. His little bird. He should have clipped her wings before she flew away. Now, he’d have to find another way to cage her. And if he couldn’t . . .
He grabbed the water bottle from the edge of his desk and squeezed, the plastic crackling and popping. Just as he imagined the bones in her pretty little neck would do.
Chapter4