Ciara wished she had been mistaken, when she thought she saw the errant baobh sidhe hanging about the doorframe when she returned. But as she entered the apartment, the lingering presence of the creature was too strong to ignore. Worse yet, she thought she had seen the thing visible on the earthly plane. Which could only mean one thing: it was making contact with Connor directly. She was quickly running out of time, and her Child’s hurried occasional prayers were not going to give her the power she needed to stave off the threatening presence of the baobh sidhe. She prayed quickly to the Master that Taog would be successful in wielding whatever influence he held over his Child to contact Connor, and soon. The baobh sidhe sunk their talons in quickly, and were loathe to let go.

She turned quickly and followed Connor’s path to the truck. Perhaps Taog had a point. Ciara would make every effort to be ever-present with Connor until Taog’s fianuis crossed paths again with her charge. Her mere presence would not intimidate the baobh sidhe for long, but it was the best she could do. The baobh sidhe found the presence of the maor-righ nearly as repellent as they were drawn to the scent of a potential traill. Ciara prayed that revulsion for her kind would purchase her enough time.

*****

“What’s got you in such a good mood, Ally Cat?” Doug asked as he liberally doused his coffee with sugar.

Doug was not her employee. As far as the IRS and any sane person was concerned, her only employee was Meghan. Despite this fact, Doug showed up nearly every day at 4:30 and stayed until she closed at seven. While he was there, he would proceed to put away stray books, stock shelves, and use his quite liberal gift of gab to convince customers who had only intended to browse that they absolutely, positively had to read the newest Tom Clancy, and while they were at it, buy a half a dozen other books, all while consuming quantities of caffeine and sugar that made Alycen wonder if he actually ever slept.

If Doug had ever stopped talking for any great length of time, Alycen had not been present to witness it.

“I just had a really good workout this morning,” she said, trying her best to suppress a grin.

At this Doug raised an eyebrow. “Workout? Since when have you become a gym rat?” Doug knew his friend Alycen very well. While she made a regular practice of walking, anything strenuous enough to be termed a workout appealed to her as much as a case of the measles.

“Well, okay. Maybe it wasn’t so much the workout as the view. Hot guy on the treadmill.” She smirked at Doug’s shocked expression. Surely it hadn’t been that long since she’d been on a date or joked about being attracted to a man. Oh, who was she kidding? There were nuns at St. Joseph’s who’d had dates more recently than she had.

“So we’re in for an early thaw this year after all?” he teased.

“Thaw? What on earth are you talking about, Doug? It’s barely autumn.”

“I was talking about hell, since it looks like it’s frozen over.” At that, Aly tossed the rubber stress ball she kept on the counter at his head.

“Seriously, Aly Cat, what happened? Your eyes lock across a crowded stairmaster? True love spawned by the Thighmaster? I gotta know.”

“You, are a jerk. Just for that, I’m not telling you a thing.” Now it was getting fun. She so rarely had anything surprising or interesting to dangle over Doug’s head. On the other hand, Doug was always regaling her with tales of his weekend exploits. Once he’d driven all night to spend the weekend in Montreal, just to see if he could get by on his high school French. It was nice to be the center of attention for a change.

“Riiiiight. So I might as well just put away that new stack of Madeline L’Engle books. Right after I get done catching the monkeys that are flying out of my butt…”

Alycen couldn’t even pretend to be mad at that point.

“All right, all right. I couldn’t take my usual walk this morning because it was raining cats and dogs…”

“Yeah, isn’t that weird. It’s poured like crazy for an hour, then back to clear as a bell…”

“Do you want to hear this story or not?” Alycen pouted. She was not especially experienced or good at pouting, but today seemed to be a day for trying new things, so she figured she’d give it a shot.

“Sorry. Go ahead.” Doug assumed an appropriately penitent and attentive expression.

“So I remembered that Gary had given me a membership to the YMCA. Shut up.” That last was in response to the fact that Doug had already opened his mouth wide, clearly about to launch into a chorus of The Village People. Doug was exhaustingly predictable when it came to juvenile attempts at humor. Doug snapped his mouth shut and resumed the penitent/attentive pose.

“Anyway, I get to the Y, and there’s this guy on the treadmill. This absolutely gorgeous guy. And he’s completely checking me out. I sat down to stretch in front of him and I thought my hair was going to catch on fire, the way he was looking at me. Then all of a sudden, he just bolts for the locker room. Well, anyway, before he took off, I, uh, just happened to notice, as I was looking at something else in the mirror, he, uh, um, well…”

“Had a stiffy? A boner? A pocket rocket aimed and ready for launch? An…”

Alycen cut him off quickly. Doug could go on like that for an hour. “Yeah. Whatever. Anyway. I caught up to him and tried to make a joke. He got really mad. Backed me into a corner. I tell you, he was a little scary for a sec, there. Then it just passed, and I think he was embarrassed about the whole thing. Anyway, we exchanged numbers, and I headed on here to work.”

“And you’re going to call him when?”

“I don’t know. I’m awfully busy. And I’m sure he only gave me his number to be polite. Besides, aren’t I supposed to wait and let him call? ‘The Rules’ and all that?”

“Screw the rules. Better yet, screw this guy.” Alycen’s jaw dropped.

“Doug! Lower your voice a little—I’ve got customers here.”

“Alycen, all your customers would probably be thrilled to find that you finally got some. Let’s ask them. Hey, Janice? Don’t you agree Aly here should take any and all means necessary to score one for the gipper with this stairmaster stud?”

Janice, a regular who was sitting at the café table, drinking Earl Gray tea from a piece of slightly chipped bone china didn’t even look up from her Danielle Steel novel before chirping dryly in a perfect deadpan “Yep. She most definitely needs to throw that heaving bosom at a man.”

“Doug! I’m going to kill you. If you actually worked for me, I’d fire you!”

At that, Janice put down her book and lifted her teacup. “Seriously Alycen. You haven’t had a date in months, and even back then I would hardly call tolerating that jerk Bill a date. You eat, breathe and sleep this store. You need to get out more. You need to smile more. You need to call this guy.” For some odd reason, Janice felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck. “You need to call him now.”

*****
“Now…” whispered Taog repeatedly into Janice’s ear. Then he moved next to Alycen and whispered gently, “Listen. And don’t fear.”

Taog knew that was the real reason she was hesitating to call this man Connor. She was lonely. She did need to get out more and socialize. But she was afraid. Alycen was a sweet person. She was kind and considerate, and although she was far from perfect, she tended to look out for everyone but herself. Because of that, she also tended to draw out the bloodsucking parasites of life. Her relationships with men had been like her relationships with her family: a lot of giving on her part, and a lot of the men acting as if they were doing her a tremendous favor in allowing her to be at their beck and call.

She had been hurt in the past. Alycen didn’t know how to just invest a little of her heart in someone. When she fell for someone, she gave it all she had. Unfortunately, she’d always gotten back very little. And now, she was beginning to wonder if it was even worth trying.

Taog concentrated on the Master. He concentrated on the Master’s love and devotion. He concentrated on the Master’s perfect plan.
“I know the plans I have for you,” recited Taog, his eyes closed “Plans to give you a hope and a future.”
A soft, warm, golden glow surrounded the maor-righ. It radiated out in waves, blanketing himself, Doug, and Alycen. Doug sighed peacefully for no particular reason, and his caffeine-induced edginess subsided a bit.

Alycen picked up the phone, reached down into her gym bag, and pulled out the card with Connor’s number on it. “Might as well call. What’s the worst that could happen?” she thought.

*****

Connor felt edgy and anxious, and he wasn’t exactly certain why. Aside from forgetting the plans, nothing had gone wrong all day. God knows, some days so many things went wrong, it seemed as if it was a waste of time even getting out of bed. This was not one of those days, for certain. And he’d met two highly attractive women, who’d both seemed very interested in him. Still, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was off. Something was not as it should be.

As he leaned over a plan, carefully considering where to put the ridiculous weeping cherry his customer insisted belonged in her lawn, his phone rang.

“Mattingly Landscaping, Connor Mattingly speaking,” he said in probably a more brusque voice than he had intended, thanks to the weeping cherry which was giving him fits.
“Um, hi. This is Alycen. Alycen O’Ryan? From the gym this morning?”

“OH! Alycen! Hi. Sorry, I was in the middle of something when you called.”

“Well, don’t let me interrupt.”

“No! Trust me, it was nothing important. In fact, I desperately needed an interruption right about now.”

“Well, in that case, you’re welcome,” she said, laughing.

“Thanks,” he said, laughing as well.

“Anyway, I was just wondering if you’d like to get together sometime. Maybe grab a bite to eat, check out a movie, you know, the typical dating ritual thing.”

“I love rituals. I shave my cat by the full moon on a regular basis.”

“Really? What’s that good for?”

“Curing hair balls.”

“Very funny. So are you interested, or not?”
“Oh absolutely. I’m completely interested. When and where?”

“Um, Friday night work for you?”

Connor did not bother to look at his calendar. If there was anything on it for Friday, it could and would be moved. “Friday is perfect.”

“How do you feel about Mexican food?”

“Cheese, beans, beef. What’s not to like, there?”

“El Nopalitos? At, maybe seven?”

“Sure. Sounds great. Would you like me to pick you up?” For some odd reason, saying that made Connor picture himself literally picking her up, preferably to carry her someplace private.

“That would be great. You could pick me up at The Secret Kingdom. My bookstore. It’s listed on the business card I gave you.”

“Perfect. See you then.”

“See you then.”