Page 3 of Prophesy


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  Unable to help herself, Echo smiled. Keegan was absolutely gorgeous. Usually, her charges were the senile with no sense of direction. This assignment might turn into something exciting after all.

  “See that guy over there in the Coors Light T-shirt and Levis reading the newspaper next to the craft shop?”

  He turned to look. “Yeah.”

  Their meals arrived. When the waitress left, Echo leaned in close to him and whispered conspiratorially, “The mailbox guy is Mary’s little lamb in comparison.” She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of him. He smelled of autumn air and musk. Heavenly.

  “Wonderful. Just wonderful.” He glanced at them across the street. "What are they waiting for? Why don't they just storm in here and fight you for me?"

  "They won't, otherwise they risk the wrath of Mephistopheles."

  "The devil has scruples?"

  "Self-preservation is more like it. Collateral damage is difficult to explain."

  He looked so adorable panicked. It made her want to take him in her arms and promise to scare away the boogeyman. She couldn’t remember a time, or if ever there was one, when a charge physically attracted her. She needed to get her emotions in check before she did something she would later regret.

  She doubted Keegan would normally frighten easily. She suspected, too, that he had never faced anything in his life as scary as demons, so she gave him an ‘A’ rating on the courageous scale. Time would tell whether he continued to measure up. The next few days would prove as terrifying as they would bizarre and would undeniably test his stock.

  She could almost see his brain working and with that came a change in his expression. Keegan was not happy with his situation, or her, but she suspected he was too polite to say.

  “Hang on to that anger,” she said, coaching herself not to laugh at the surprised look on his face. “Don’t look at me like I sprouted horns. I’m not clairvoyant. It’s written all over your face you’re feeling picked-on and that you’d like to duke it out with someone.” She plucked her fork and knife from the table. “Just keep in mind I’m not the enemy. Now, eat up. You’re going to need the energy.”

  He looked at the rib eye steak surrounded by baby potatoes and snow peas, but couldn’t muster enough enthusiasm to even take the cutlery in his hand. “I have no experience with fist fighting. Aren’t you here to do that for me?”

  When she gave him a look meant for the dense, he continued his argument. “I’ll get myself killed. For the second time.”

  She opened her brief case and took out a stun gun. “Do you know how to use this?”

  “I know the mechanics. As a matter of fact, I’m representing a woman whose husband was killed by the police with a Taser.” He examined the innocent-looking but potentially lethal weapon. “This will kill a demon?”

  A lawyer who doesn’t balk at killing. Go figure. “No.” She nabbed the gun from his hand and shoved it back into her briefcase. “But it will momentarily deter him if he’s struck right here.” She pointed a blood-red lacquered nail between her eyes. “Which should give you enough time to run and hide.”

  He picked up where she left off. “Then you jump in and annihilate him. Uh-huh. Got it.”

  Echo saw that he wasn't reassured in the least. She wasn't insulted.

  She ate with the appetite of the starved while Keegan used his fork to flick pea pods at his potatoes. He watched as she swabbed her plate clean with a crusty roll.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked, eyeing his meal.

  “I don’t know how you could think I’d eat when my heart is going to be ripped from my chest as soon as I step outside. Or, are you feeding the doomed man his last meal?”

  She pretended not to hear him. “May I?”

  “Help yourself.” He hefted his plate across the table.

  Two minutes later, she dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin, then dropped it onto the plates. “Now let’s go kick us some demon ass.”