SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits Read Free Page B

that.”
    She nodded. “I’ve been called there.”
    “Then you should go.”
    “I’ve been called to bring you. I’m leaving tonight.”
    “Listen, Ms. Lamont—”
    “You may call me Chloe.”
    He’d pass on that offer. “I don’t know what you’ve heard about Diablo Springs, Ms. Lamont, but I can pretty much guarantee that it isn’t true. It’s just a dried-up old town.”
    “A ghost town, but only the ghosts know it.”
    “If you say so.”
    “Aren’t you curious about who is calling me?”
    “No.”
    “Not even if it’s Carolina Beck?”
    Had she said Carolina Beck ? That got Reilly’s full attention. He hadn’t thought of Carolina Beck since the last time she’d slammed the door in his face. Her granddaughter, Gracie, was another story altogether. He was pretty sure he’d never stopped thinking about Gracie. Once upon a time, sparkles and unicorns had filled Gracie’s eyes and Reilly Alexander, her heart.
    But that was a long, long time ago.
    “You’re friends with Carolina Beck?” he asked skeptically.
    “Her spirit.”
    Her spirit? “She’s dead?”
    Chloe didn’t answer.
    Reilly leaned forward, intrigued now. “How is she calling you?”
    Chloe leaned in, “How did I know you’d care?”
    A pale man appeared at Chloe’s side, younger than she by about twenty years, but still graying at the temples. Tall and skeletal, he struck Reilly as a hybrid of a vampire and Abraham Lincoln. Where Chloe was color, he was transparent. He put a protective hand on Chloe’s waist and a watchful eye on Reilly.
    “You’re looking for your next story,” Chloe went on. “You’re worried because you can’t find one. It’s a question of destiny, but you can’t see what’s right under your nose.”
    “And you can?” Reilly said.
    “You’re part of this story, Nathan Reilly Alexander.”
    “And just what kind of story would that be?”
    “A ghost story, of course.”
     

Diablo Springs: Chapter Three
     
     
    Gracie Beck leaned back from her computer and stared at the brochure she’d created for a distance education program. The banner read, “See the world from the other side of the textbook.” It was the kind of program she’d longed to go on when she was in college. But by then she’d had a baby, a job, and more life experience than she cared to remember.
    She saved the file and leaned back in her chair. This evening, the house seemed cavernous, though in reality it was just a tiny one-story bungalow built in the giddy days following World War II. San Diego was filled with houses like this one. Apart from the two bedrooms—hers and her daughter, Analise’s—there was a nook that doubled as an office, a living room/family room, and a kitchen with enough space for a dinette. The yard was small, but Lake Murray, where she could walk her pair of horse-sized dogs, Tinkerbelle and Juliet, wasn’t far off.
    Her third dog, a petite Yorkie named Romeo, sat on her lap while she worked. Gracie absently scratched behind his ears.
    She supposed she should get used to the silence in the house. Analise was sixteen and soon she’d be off to college. She was an honor student with gifts that ranged from math to music. First-chair orchestra, accelerated calculus; she’d have her pick of universities. Gracie would miss her, but she was so proud.
    Analise was at a sleepover tonight at her girlfriend’s. Nothing uncommon and yet the twilight hours had been filled with a bad feeling that wouldn’t go away. Her daughter had texted an hour or so ago—the kind of sweet check-in she always did—but still . . . something felt off. Gracie had tried to talk herself out of worrying but finally she’d called Analise and gotten her voice mail.
    Again, nothing to worry about. So why was she so anxious?
    Standing, Gracie stretched, wincing as her joints creaked and muscles groaned. She’d just celebrated her thirty-third birthday, but she felt ancient. All three dogs stood when she did, but Juliet gave a