“As if,” she whispered, tossing her purse on the table before crossing the room to perch on the edge of her one easy chair.
Just because she’d agreed to let this guy drive her all the way into Cheyenne for a decent meal she didn’t have to cook herself was no call for him to go expecting more than a kiss on the cheek.
But he had expected more. They always expected more.
Too bad the few men she had dated since she’d been here weren’t more honest with each other when they discussed the evening they’d spent with her. A little honesty might have saved good ol’ Clay a long, disappointing drive home. Alone.
“Screw him,” she growled, kicking off the uncomfortable heels she’d worn for her evening out.
The words had hardly passed her lips before she started to chuckle. “Or more precisely,not.”
Besides, she had bigger plans for her evening than Clay Carter could possibly imagine.
She leaned forward and flipped on the television, waiting for the grainy picture to come into focus. As long as it was taking, the wind must be wreaking havoc with the satellite dish again. Not that it really mattered. She only turned it on for background noise while she got everything ready for what she’d planned tonight.
Within minutes, she was out of her dress and into a comfy, oversize T-shirt. One more task and then she could get down to business. She pulled on a pair of jeans, slid her feet into some well-worn boots, and stuck her arms into the heavy sweater hanging by the door before opening her tiny refrigerator to remove a small carton of milk.
Opening the door, she stepped out into the cold and tugged the collar of her old sweater tight around her neck in an attempt to block the wind now tinged with the first light touch of sleet. She hurried across the parking lot and out to the back side of the little motel, away from the lights of the truck stop next door, to an ancient cottonwood tree. Squinting against the biting sting of tiny ice pellets hitting her face, she poured milk into the little bowl she’d fitted into the crook of the lowest branch.
“Here you go, Faeries. Hope you’re all in a listening mood tonight.”
She hadn’t missed a day in fifteen years and she wasn’t going to miss tonight, not even if it meant freezing her butt off out here. But she had to admit, one little sign of appreciation for a change would be a nice thing.
Ice clung to her hair by the time she stepped back inside her warm little room, melting almost immediately into little drops of cold water.
Great. Either she took time to dry it now, or she’d be a mass of out-of-control curls in the morning. A glance at the clock confirmed it was already after eleven. No time for primping her hair.
Curls it would be.
A quick towel-dry and she reached to turn off the television, stopping as an ad for some party shop in Denver caught her attention. The actors cavorted like amateurs in front of the camera, dressed up as witches and ghosts, inviting all the grown-up goblins in for a visit.
“Damn,” she muttered as she hit the switch, sending the screen to black.
She’d better hurry or it would be too late. Tonight was Halloween, Samhain to the ancient peoples and to the Faeries. The one night of the year when the separation between the world of man and the world of Faeries was most penetrable. She’d waited for over three months for this very night, and there was no way she was going to miss this chance! Less than an hour left before it was over and she’d have to wait for another whole year for this opportunity to return again.
She had time. It was why she’d insisted on coming home when she had.
The little bag of stones lay at the bottom of her dresser drawer along with a thin, white candle, wrapped in the soft green velvet scarf she’d bought especially for them. They’d cost her more than a week’s pay, but they were worth every penny. Or they would be, if they worked.
She shoved aside her small table and chair, clearing as much floor space as possible.
What she needed was a circle. Faeries loved circles.
One by one, she laid out her stones, reading from the strips of paper where she’d written their names and why she’d chosen them.
“Fairy quartz for heightened energy even while it calms. Apophyllite, the fairy stone, to help in working with Faeries. Staurolite, to channel information from the ancients.”
She only hoped the ancient Fae were paying attention tonight.
“Amazonite for success and psychic abilities. Turquoise, for guidance through the unknown. Psilomelane, for scrying and out-of-body travel. Mica, to improve visions and mystical clarity. Jade, for dreams and realization of potential. Iolite, the shaman stone, to help with visions and spiritual growth. Chalcedony, the sacred Native American miracle stone. Clear quartz, a power stone to intensify the energy of my circle.”
She set the last one in place and stood back to admire her work. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it would have to do. The quartz she’d truly wanted, one the shop owner had called a Time Link crystal, had reached for the sky with four beautifully shaped points that were said to give insight into the future as well as aid in finding meaning in the past. It had been very large and so far out of her price range, she’d had to settle for this one, with a point on only one side. A link to the past, the salesclerk had claimed. Close enough.
Eleven stones.
The twelfth was in the ring she wore on her right hand, her birthstone, a garnet. Her most valued possession, it had been a gift from her aunt on her sixteenth birthday.
“For romantic love, for passion, for sensuality and intimacy,” she quoted, holding her hand out in front of her.
