Literally centuries, for Aric had turned her back when
she and Serra were merely mortal.
Now Francesca wondered if Aric had turned her to wriggle his
way into Serra’s life, for what better way than to make her best friend the
very species that she avoided? For at the time, Serra had been involved with a
wolf. Of course, she was glad to be turned vampire instead of werewolf. Serra
may have loved one, but Francesca, without being biased, definitely preferred
the smooth erotic vampires to the powerful, but violent werewolves.
Serra, oh, Serra. How she missed her so. How she longed to
find her best friend again. How did she interact? What would frighten her? What
would bring them closer?
A light tapping at her door interrupted her inner musings.
“Come in,” she said and the door opened.
Sara walked through, fully dressed and wide-eyed at the
sight of her nakedness.
“Geez,” she said, clenching her eyes shut.
Francesca laughed, her rich voice rumbling husky. “Sara, you’ve
seen me nude.”
“I know,” Sara said, opening one eye. “But I wasn’t
expecting it.”
“You were the first time?”
“No, I wasn’t then either, but, oh, I don’t know.”
Francesca slid the silk of a robe over her supple skin and
Sara looked at her fully finally.
“Better?” asked Francesca.
Sara nodded and Francesca pulled her over to the big bed.
“I just left you, why are you here already?”
“I don’t know, I just felt like you, oh crap, I don’t know
how to explain it. I’m psychic, I feel things and I felt like you needed me.”
“Needed you?”
“Yes. Like you were unconsciously calling out to me.”
“Perhaps I was,” Francesca said slowly. “I was doing some
thinking, you see, trying to sort things out in my head.”
“What has you troubled?” Sara asked.
Francesca knew she had to change the subject. She could
hardly confide that her troubles spanned the centuries. This Sara had no idea
that Others existed. Other creatures, vampires and werewolves, witches and
fairies. “It’s nothing, really. But I’m curious about you, to drop a bomb like
being a psychic. How are you psychic? Tell me about that, it’s so fascinating.”
“I just feel things, is all,” she said somewhat
uncomfortably. “I do readings for a little extra money and sometimes can delve
into the past to relive people’s previous lives. I’m sort of involved in that
now, in fact. I did a reading not long ago on a woman named Mattie who lives in
my apartment building, but during the reading I was thrust into another woman’s
life. It keeps nagging at me, as though there’s something I should complete for
that woman.”
“Do you know who she is?”
“No, but it’s a rather sexual life. Twice now I’ve watched
her with two different men. I get the feeling that she has to choose one over
the other, although I could be wrong.”
Sara looked uncomfortable and Francesca wondered if she
really thought she was wrong.
Or if her abilities allowed her to hit the nail on the head.
“How do you do a reading?” Francesca asked.
“Tarot cards usually. Just part-time. Although, I hear there’s
a new psychic in town ready to usurp me.” She grinned. “Do I look worried?”
“Not in the least. Shouldn’t you be?”
“Nah. I’m hoping the new guy or gal gets all my problem
clients. The ones that are convinced I can conjure up a love potion or something
else as ridiculous.”
“Being psychic sounds fabulous,” Francesca said, but she
felt her face tighten as she wondered what events Sara might be able to recall
about her past.
“How did you and Rafe meet, anyway?” Sara asked.
“It was so long ago. Rafe was best friends with Aric and
Aric chased after my own best friend. I was set up with Rafe and we hit it off
immediately.”
“Your best friend? Was that Aric’s wife?” Sara asked,
genuine sympathy in her voice.
Francesca nodded around the sudden lump in her throat. Her
large eyes filled with tears and she
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley