She had not been in the presence of the Fallen in a long time.
The girl glared at her contemptuously, as if understanding that the old witch knew what she was, and flashed her fangs at her.
Arrogant little brat. Joanna frowned. Of all the things that were an insult to the restriction she lived under, the fact that the Fallen were allowed to use their supernatural abilities stung the hardest. She wondered idly what had brought the vampire girl and her human companion to North Hampton, because of course that was the town they were looking for. They did not look like they were here to celebrate the holiday weekend. The girl was wrong: it wasn't a protection spell; those were too easy to undo. Instead, when they had settled North Hampton all those long years ago, they had chosen to build in one of the few disoriented pockets that resulted from the collapse of the bridge. North Hampton was located in a place in the universe that was neither here nor there, exactly, just slightly outside of time, which was why it was located so close to the seam.
The girl continued to glare at Joanna until the boy grabbed her by the arm and steered her to the street. "Mimi! C'mon," the boy said. "Sorry about my friend, she's not feeling well," he apologized, and they walked away.
Joanna sighed and walked up the steps to board the train. She had wanted to fly but she had to be more careful this time. It would not do to have another UFO sighting in the area. She found a seat in the back, and stored her carpetbag in the overheard. There was no one else in the car and she was glad to be able to spread out on several seats to be more comfortable. She prepared herself for a long train ride in the dark.
After centuries of separation, Joanna Beauchamp was off to see her husband.
Chapter twenty-three
Missing
Monday after the Fourth of July holiday was like waking up from a three-day hangover. Freya opened the bar that afternoon, a bit apprehensive to see what lay in store, how bad the damage had been. She turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open, inhaling the familiar sweet stench of the bar: sweat and cigarettes and spilled alcohol. Friday night had been one of the wildest nights the North Inn had ever experienced, and for many nights and summers after, those who had been there that evening would talk about what happened that night: how the air had cracked with heat and fire; how the music seeped right into your soul, into your limbs; how the drinks were luscious and addictive; how everyone had seemed just a bit out of control. The party had continued to rage, spilling into Saturday and Sunday, with no rest or respite; she had kept the bar open nonstop the entire weekend, the music growing ever louder, the crowd rowdy to the point of obnoxious. It had been a carnival, a circus, and a festival rolled into one.
She was emotionally and physically exhausted, not just from the carousing and the work but from spending the entire three days in the company of Killian Gardiner, neither of them leaving to eat or sleep, catching catnaps in the back while the other tended to the customers. It did not matter that they were soon to be family, that she was to be his brother's wife, that there was a wedding on the horizon - none of it mattered, only heat and desire and now. There was no tomorrow. There was only Killian, and Freya was vulnerable to his every wish and command.
He had even offered to help her clean up on Monday morning but she had rebuffed him. She needed a few days to herself. On the way to the North Inn she had called Bran, but his cell did not pick up. She kept dialing it anyway, listening to his message, wanting to hear his voice to bring her back to earth.
She did not know how she felt about anything or anyone. She felt as if she were being pulled in two directions, and if she was so sure once of Bran and their love for each other, she was now equally sure that she could not live without Killian either. What was new? Freya had been the kind of girl who hopped into bed at the slightest invitation; in the past she had many lovers of