Prologue

      Running. From…something. Cast in dark shadows, relentless and hunting. The sound, like shuffling leaves, unremitting, echoed all around her.

      Earlier, she dazzled at a grand Royal Gala thrown to benefit victims of crime. She worked her enchantments to get an invitation and hired the best escort in town to accompany her. When he arrived in his hot, blood-red sports car, she felt thrilled. He was tall, handsome without being boyish, and dashing.

Beguiled by his smile, she overlooked his mixte-heritage with its too much human and hardly any unhuman qualities. Such exotic eye candy. He brought her the most fantastic faedust ever. So much better than anything her clients gave her, increasing her sense of self and her pleasure exponentially. She vowed to remember this escort and hire him often.

      Her gown, a spectacular black satin and velvet showered with the sparkle of a thousand diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds. Her hair flowed in cascading curls, which took hours to arrange. With a matching bracelet, an emerald necklace sparkled around her neck, contrasting dark green fire with the purples of her hair. Her face remained a mask of perfection - the envy of all her friends.

           She aimed to be the most talked-about woman at the Justice Gala, succeeding beyond her wildest dreams. Her triumph complete, and between dust and her joy, she soared.

      After her escort dropped her at home, she remained outside for a few moments enjoying the night air, plotting her next move in her climb to the pinnacle of society.

      She was lost in thought and unaware the atmosphere changed. Then she saw it, shadowed and terrifying. It came from nowhere, stalking her.

      Darkness blocked her way into the house.

       Her path led into the woods behind. She ran through them, now suddenly unfamiliar.

      Twigs caught at her gown and jewels flew off, scattering a trail of glittering breadcrumbs. She made her way towards the river, hoping to find the merfolk, or being part undine herself, hide safely in the water until the danger passed. Instead, she inadvertently turned back, heading further into the forest.

      It followed her, inexorable and silent as a tomb. She stumbled and fell, sensing she would never rise again.   

      Her screams shattered the silence of the night.

Several hours later, detectives, forensics, and pathologists descended on the brutal crime scene. Parts of Miraquoa Willowtrees were scattered everywhere – and not merely the jewels and things that fell or tore as she fled. The violence of the crime contrasted with the beautiful, peaceful stone cottage nestled in the small woods. A crooked path led down to the sparkling tributary connected to the river surrounding the city-state. Blood stained the walkway, pooling at the edge of the water.

      Captain Lord Aidan Eurus felt overdressed as he supervised the rest of his team processing the scene. He’d left that same gala at Court to go home when the call came in the pre-dawn morning.

      Lord Justice sat in Aidan’s sports car, directing all activity. Not that he wanted to. An outstanding investigator in his own right, he understood the Summer Queen’s insistence that as few people as possible put a face to the title.  Since secrets were part of his life even from before his birth, what was another one? However, separating his two identities still irritated him.

       “What’s to your left? Can your magisight catch anything?” he asked his brother through a protected holophone.

      Aidan walked around the body, holding up the holophone. Willowtrees had been a beautiful woman hours before at the annual Justice Gala. Her reputation usually made her a pariah – even to those in the business of defending the worst of the worst. Known for defending the faedust dealers, gangers, and traffickers among the sex, dust, and seedier trades of Nysi Afallon, Willowtress longed for acceptance among her legal peers.

      He took off his glove, grasped her ankle, and closed his eyes, trying to grab her last memory synapses. “Sorry, Kai, not enough of her left to read. She’s been dead too long.” His best chance of seeing a victim’s last moments dissipated within an hour of death.

      Aidan witnessed Willowtrees’ behavior throughout the evening. Her escort looked increasingly uncomfortable as the gala continued.  Willowtrees regaled anyone who would listen with raunchy tales of her clients. Her skills at manipulating the system got them out of jail time, into rehab, and back out on the streets.

      Aidan signaled for the forensics team. “Another painting - and some knit cloth too.” He shut off the projection video on his holo-cell, watching the team bag the item. “I know she was disgusting… but she didn’t deserve this.”

      “No one does. Is it the same style?”

      “The painting? It’s like the others.” Aidan dispassionately waited as the EMTs placed an inertia spell on the remains of Miraquoa Willowtrees before loading her into their morgue conveyance.

      A team of horses stood nearby. One of them seemed spooked, which seemed odd. These animals witnessed the worst sites. One horse kept scraping its hoof at the ground near a bush where the strange painting lay hidden. Aidan took an image of the spot, planning to examine it later.

      “Aidan,” Lord Justice’s low voice rumbled. “Obtain all the security footage from the ball last night. News footage, photos, whatever. I’m going back to Court and ask the Royal Guard. Can you get a ride?”

      “Sure, no problem. Meet me at the Caer to go over what we have. I want to check out a couple of ideas. I still think we need to bring someone else into this. It goes against non-interference E-ban, but the prognosticators think someone from The E can -”

      “Do it. I’ll clear it with the Queen. Meanwhile, I’ll get whatever I can. Meet you in an hour.”

      The car door eventually opened, and a tall light-haired man got out, half-dressed in fancy attire. His formal navy jacket opened over a lighter blue shirt, an untied black tie, and dress trousers. A circlet around his forehead – the last part of his official regalia – charmed his features, so no one without permission remembered his identity. He removed it, tossed it, and the jacket into the car, becoming identifiable as Lord Kai Eurus - no longer the secret Lord Justice – and Aidan’s older brother.

       Kai joined his brother. “I find it hard to believe any of those people at the ball tonight had time to do this. Tell the lab I want the knit checked and the results ready by the time I return. Find someone to interview the escort!”

      Jumping into Aidan’s car, he sped off, leaving the field team in awe that the Lord Eurus was actually there. They would always remember Kai Eurus, without a hint of Lord Justice, running the investigation, and he scared them enough.

      Aidan gave them a moment to bask in Kai’s reflected glow before hustling them back to work. “You heard the man! He wants results and fast!”

Chapter 1: Maia

      “Amazing,” Maia Anemois muttered. She knew the serving staff of the Chimera Cafe kept looking at her. “Suddenly, they can see me. Today, when I want to be invisible, they’re all over me like hives.”

      People waited in line for service, with many others overcrowding the smaller tables. Maia realized they were trying diplomatically to encourage her to leave with one person occupying each corner table. She suspected they were also urging the handsome man sitting near her to depart as well.

      They shouldn’t lose the eye candy.

      She shook her head, realizing her cousin Jason had nailed it. She chose this coffee shop because they named the place for a mythological creature, not for the quality of its service or brews. Thinking about Jason made her miss him – particularly after yesterday’s miserable Thanksgiving, which she spent alone with the cats. Although happy that her cousin was in the Virgin Islands visiting his friends, it didn’t make being alone any easier for her.

      Her tendency to live in emotional isolation hid behind a cheerful exterior. Something about her attracted confidences from total strangers yet still left her feeling detached. These confidences were distracting – and a little disturbing. She let Jason handle all the personal interactions and business matters. Sometimes, she appreciated this trust and instant friendship. She often believed she lived hidden in shadows, her life on hold.

      She ignored her surroundings, calmed her center, internally pulling out all her favorite fantasies. Ever since she was young, she lost herself in books whenever she felt insecure and unloved. She dreamed King Peter of Narnia would take her away and lead her into exciting adventures. When she grew older, Peter morphed into The Lord of the Rings’ Aragorn or, in her more risqué moments, Elrond’s twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir, in an elvish ménage-a-trois. Sometimes she pretended to be ‘Ice Princess Maia’ from her uncle Ajax's stories for her.  She spent half her life living in her fantasy worlds.

      Often, she thought about her imaginary friend - the dark-eyed winged man, coming at night, sitting on her bed, and listening to her troubles.

      Or recalling the tall, beautiful, blonde man, holding her hand, assuring her everything would be all right, and that she was safe with him. He haunted her dreams even at age seven, and though she grew older, he never changed. Something about him called to her, and often she eagerly went to bed to dream of him.

      She wondered… remembering how so many of her dreams came disturbingly true. Perhaps the ones starring her dream man would also come true…

      Not today, though. The hovering wait-staff pounced as soon as Maia looked up. The busiest shopping day of them all, families out doing all sorts of things.

      Must be delightful, she thought, observing all the happy.

      The check magically appeared as her cup vanished. She was almost ready to put up a token protest. Then two people caught her attention. Emily, her oldest friend whose family lived around the corner, waiting for a table, and the handsome man sitting alone, staring at her. It seemed odd since she hardly ever attracted any attention from the opposite sex, although her looks were stunning. Long, dark brown hair and sparkling dark eyes. She had a smooth olive complexion, which her seventh grade Home-Ec teacher told her made her look green whenever she wore yellow.  Maia had lovely curves, a cheerful, open expression, and an appearance of at least fifteen years younger than her actual age. With luck, her genes would ensure her smooth skin well past one-hundred if she took after her grandmother Calista.

      Maia was smart, a bit too serious, too reserved. On the surface, she seemed warm, sunny, and exceptionally kind. Her cats devoted themselves to her, and she poured her love into them. She was a competent, independent, successful woman with outstanding research and analytical skills. Yet, she could not sustain a relationship for any length of time.  She often blamed Calista for her inability to connect, as her grandmother had spent years emotionally brutalizing her. She knew the family secrets would eventually haunt her. She and Jason often speculated on what these secrets entailed. Each of them had shown unusual “psychic” gifts from childhood. She could almost hear Jason laughing, “We’re probably some scions of magic houses. We’ll end up going into fantasy worlds like they do in anime.”  

       Some days she wished this wholeheartedly and that she’d be whisked away and –

      Realizing the more she delayed, the more she became the hostile object of the waiting throng, Maia stood, gathering her check. In her periphery, she noted the handsome man on his way to the cashier. His aura of light blue indicated trustworthiness, yet the red streaks running through it revealed him to be full of energy. A twinge of excitement and interest ran down her spine. Something about him seemed tantalizingly familiar.

      Before she could follow to offer a witty remark to him, Amanda Roswell, her daughter Emily and their party pushed past everyone waiting, descending on her table.

      “Maia. How are you, dear? I never…” Amanda’s grip tightened as Maia attempted to break away, “…thanked you properly for installing the wireless lines and making the airport runs.”

      Emily, looking embarrassed, apologized. “Sorry about yesterday. I didn’t realize you were alone. I only found out today. I feel terrible she didn’t invite you. You should have just come.”

      “She never asked.”

      “I thought your cousins would’ve invited you, what with Jason being in the islands.”

      Maia grimaced. “It isn’t a gift-giving occasion. Or a funeral. Nothing for me to see.”

      “To assure them the departed have left the building?” Emily replied in BFF shorthand. She was one of the few people who understood one of Maia’s most potent gifts - seeing if the dead lingered instead of moving on.  

      “I guess.” She peeked around and didn’t see the man. She felt mildly disappointed.

      “Are we on for the airport on Sunday?”

       “Sure. Absolutely.”

      “We’ll leave at -”

      Amanda Roswell interrupted them, resentful of their side conversation, announcing to another member of the party, “Maia is our third daughter, Ginny. She is quite indispensable to us.”

      “And wrapped in shadows…” a quiet voice whispered in her ear. She turned her head and found the eye candy from before now standing behind her. Maia smiled, indicating she heard him.

      “Oh! We’re blocking this gentleman’s way,” Amanda squeezed her party around the table as Maia shook her head, waving goodbye.

       After she walked outside, the strange man approached her, “I’ve been looking for you.”

      “Huh?” She backed away. As soon as she stepped off the curb to go to her car, he took her arm.

      “Maia Anemois? That’s right, isn’t it?”

      She backed away a step. “Who wants to know?”

      “I must apologize. I’m usually not this clumsy. I selected this open, crowded place to approach you. I didn’t want you to be concerned. I’m sorry.” He offered his hand. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Aidan Eurus.”

      “What a fine, mythic name.”

      “Something like that. I mean you no harm. I do need to talk to you. If you feel more comfortable, I’ll give you my cell phone number. You can call me.”

      “What’s this about?”

      “Much too complicated to explain now.”

      He handed her a card. The right side featured a dark whirlwind as the spiky calligraphy read: Aidan Eurus, Nysi Afallon, and a phone number with an unusual exchange. “Please call me as soon as you feel comfortable.”

      He bowed his head, turned, and strolled toward an expensive-looking car. As he drove away, he waved. Maia found herself waving back.

      She walked to her car, a feeling of excitement bubbling up inside her.  His aura indicated he was not a danger to her. However, just what did he want of her?

      Maia fingered the card but did not find any residual aura on it. She shoved it into her pocket and headed home to cold leftovers and two cats clamoring for her attention.