LITMIR.BIZ

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the car. The driver followed this advice, accelerating down the hill, one rear door swinging open as the car wove across the road.

      “Thank heavens!” Angela pressed her hand to her chest. She gulped air in an attempt to steady her racing heart and almost yelped as she caught her reflection in the shop window.

      Red, blazing eyes glared back at her, but they were the least of her shock. Her mouth was drawn back in a feral snarl, and her skin held a livid cast that in the evening light looked fearsome and in daylight would no doubt cause heart attacks. As she watched, her distorted reflection adjusted to the one she was accustomed to seeing and the tightness in her skin eased. In seconds, the monster disappeared, and plain old Angela Ryan, or as “plain” as she could be given she was ghoul, looked back at her.

      After some very slow, deep breaths, she walked on down the hill. So! She could scare off those of evil intent. It wasn’t quite transmogrifying or exerting mind control the way elder vampires could, or even the physical strength Stella possessed, but it was a start. What else could she do? Fly? Walk on water? Outrun deer? She’d skip experimenting with the first two but maybe try the last one. If she went up on the Moors, she could have a go, see how far she could run and how long.

      It would be nice to have a laundry list of ghoul attributes. If Tom could have found that in the old lore books, it would have been useful, but heck, she’d compile her own. Had Jane made any discoveries? She’d give her a call just as soon as she laid out her cards and checked with Stella that all was well back in Yorkshire.

      But by the time she reached the bottom of the hill, Angela was dizzy and weak. Seemed the Igor act sapped strength. She hungered for raw meat. Plenty waited up in her room. She almost dropped her key in her eagerness to get gnawing, but made it into her room, slammed the door shut, and grabbed the first package, which happened to be the chicken.

      She chewed down the raw meat until only bones remained. The edge of her hunger off, she looked at the small paper bag a few inches from her fingers. She couldn’t touch telling cards with greasy fingers. She scrubbed her hands, uncertain what, if anything, she was going to learn.

      The new cards slid easily out of the flimsy box. Her fingertips brushed the pristine surface. She shuffled them slowly, letting the cards slip through her fingers as she set her mind seeking the messages in the cards. She was doing this on instinct, harnessing lost memories. Without asking herself why, she cut the deck and dealt out seven cards facedown in a circle on the bedspread.

      The sight was terribly familiar and completely strange at the same time. Ridiculous! But she knew what she was doing, or would when she turned them faceup. Her fingers shook a little as she turned up the six of spades. Threats! She’d just had that. In spades. She couldn’t stop the giggle. Had to be delayed shock and relief. One never laughed over cards. They were too sacred. The next turned was the king of hearts: a kind, fair man. Tom was more brown-haired than fair, but his skin was certainly very pale. Did a vampire count as a man? Jack of spades: a bad-mannered man. No, it was reversed. A false friend, a traitor. Ha! Another card and she found Tom for sure: the jack of clubs, a good lover and a clever, dark, young man. Okay, young was used advisedly, but he had been young when he died. Next, the eight of hearts: love and romance. She wished. Maybe after she found out who she was. More clubs. The six reversed. She needed to be careful. Over what?

      She hesitated over the final card: the ace of spades. She had love ahead of her. No point in asking how she knew all this. Confidence seeped into her mind. She’d read the cards once and would again.

      If Tom were here, she’d have him shuffle them. As it was, she shuffled for him, keeping in mind his slow, sexy smile and the memory of his cool body, skin to skin with hers.

      She missed him!

      Why did he have to be so unreasonable and difficult?

      She cut the cards and remembered the press of his lips against hers and the sweet taste of his skin on her tongue.

      Once she sorted things out here, she’d call him. Maybe go back to Havering via London. But only after she learned something about herself. She was not returning to his “be a good ghoul and let me handle all this” line.

      It was as if the cards were coming alive for her. Her fingers warmed as she placed each card facedown. This time she turned them all at once and scanned the spread. From hers she’d received fragments. Maybe together she’d learn more.

      Maybe.

      The same reversed king of spades. Was it the same evil man? Did they both face the same threat? Hardly likely, as they were on opposite sides of the country. He had three hearts. Looked as if he was headed for luck in the love direction. Was she there with him? Was she the queen that smiled up at her from the chintz bedspread? And as if Tom wasn’t sexy enough for a dozen men, the ten and the four side by side promised him marriage and success in love. Two of diamonds: an argument. They’d had that already. Seemed they couldn’t spend twenty minutes together without one. What did the four and nine of clubs foretell? An unfamiliar place? Heck, she was the one in unknown territory. This was Tom’s country and had been for centuries. And the nine? Money coming, or friends getting together. He had no shortage of money. Interest accumulated over the years, and his friends did seem to stick together. They’d pretty much invaded Ohio back in November.

      Love and evil foretold for Tom. An evil and clever man for her, and satisfaction in love and the need to go carefully—not surprising if an evil man lurked ahead. Plus she had to face the uneasiness of five black cards in her seven.

      She certainly owed Meg for the cards. She’d pay first thing in the morning. Angela gathered them all up and sat, staring at the deck, now warmed by her hands.

      How did she know this? Hell if she knew! But she had read the meaning in the cards. What else waited to be discovered?

      The power of the cards skimmed over her skin. She had a whole lot more to find out—about herself and her past and how she ended up on the streets.

      Angela looked around at the soft bed. She was dog-tired. The journey, the encounter with the thugs, and now the power in the cards together drained her abundant energy.

      She set the cards on the nightstand, pulled off her clothes, and stretched out on the bed.

      She was asleep in moments.

      And completely oblivious to the dark shape that peered in her window a few hours later.

      Chapter 5

      Angela squinted at the sunbeams lighting up the room. She’d been so tired, she hadn’t drawn the curtains before falling asleep and had slept late. She was light-headed and weak, and the phone ringing inches from her ear made her brain hurt. Darn it! She’d intended to call Stella last night. It had to be her, frantic with worry.

      “Angela!” Heaven help her, it was Tom! She tried hard to concentrate on what he was saying, but the general impression that he was complaining was lost between the fuzziness in her brain and the aroma of glorious, raw meat. The last of the loot from the butcher’s practically sang to her to consume it. Fast.

      “Okay, Tom,” she said and hung up, with no idea what she could possibility have agreed to. She leaped out of bed and across the room, chewing through the wrapping in her need to devour. She ended up on her knees on the carpet, tearing at the chops with her teeth and swallowing as if famished. When she sat up, her brain had cleared, and she made a mental note never to let herself go that long without feeding. Heck, at Tom’s she’d grazed almost all day, nibbling and tasting the fresh meat he kept in the spare refrigerator, the one with the blood bags for emergencies.

      Darn it, she’d left drops of blood on the carpet. She shocked herself by sucking them up. She really had to make sure she never starved herself again, or be darn certain the door was locked before she started licking the carpet. The Royal Oak was a relaxed, easy-going, comfortable sort of hotel, but guests gnawing on the broadloom might be more than they could handle.

      Showered and with hair washed, she was ready to face the day. She’d first find this Mr. Lee, then go back to Meg Merchant’s shop. Her comments

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