Face the Fire Page 0,37

that, she thought. She had family. She had a child. Lulu glanced up the stairs where Mia had gone. She had a child, she thought again.

He canceled his first meeting. A man had priorities. He drove up the coast road. Through sheer will he held his temper and his speed in check.

But he could do nothing about the shock and horror that careened through him when he saw the skid marks. Inches, he thought as he got out of his car on rubbery legs, just inches more and she'd have been into the guardrail. The right speed, the right angles, and her little car would have toppled right over it and down the unforgiving face of the cliff.

He followed the pattern, scanning the road, scenting the air for anything that lingered. He knew she liked to drive fast, but she'd never been reckless. To go into a spin such as the one indicated by the tire marks smeared over the pavement, she'd have had to be doing ninety.

Unless she'd had help.

Cold fingers ran over his spine because he was certain now that was what had happened. Something had shoved that spin along, pushing her toward the edge.

If she hadn't been strong enough, smart enough, fast enough, she might not have come out of it whole. He studied the roadbed where a black scar marred it, like an old, festering burn. It oozed, like oily blood, as he watched. And as he watched, he felt the dark energy that emanated from it crawl over the air.

Mia had been more shaken than either of them had realized, he thought, to have left this. Going back to his car, he popped the trunk, selected what he needed. With his tools in hand, he took a long look up and down the road. It was deserted. A plus, he thought, as what he needed to do would take a little time.

He circled the scar three times with sea salt, and the ooze smoked where it spilled into the ring. With his power cold and clear inside him, he used a birch wand for cleansing. As he sprinkled both bay and cloves for protection, the scar bubbled and hissed. And began, slowly, to shrink.

"No one who passes now need fear. You can do no more harm here. Dark back to dark as light breeds light. Safe passage here by day and night." He crouched as the scar closed in on itself. "I will guard what is dear to me," he whispered. "As I will, so mote it be."

He returned to his car and drove over the shadow of the scar toward Mia's house. He'd needed to see it, and had resisted. But he couldn't afford to wait for her invitation now. It was so much what it had been, he thought as he studied the gorgeous ramble and spears of stone. And so much more. More Mia, he realized as he again got out of his car. The flowers, the budded shrubs and great trees. The gargoyles and faeries. The breeze stirred wind chimes and strings of crystal into constant music. The white tower of the lighthouse stood like an ancient sentinel, guarding both island and house. And she'd planted purple pansies at its feet. He followed the winding path of stepping-stones around the side of the house. The sea beating on the rocks drew both his mind and his heart toward the cliffs and made him remember how many times he'd stood on them with her. Or come upon her standing there alone.

But as he walked he glanced around, then stopped, staggered.

Her gardens were a world. Arches and arbors, slopes and flows. Stone paths softened by moss spreading through the cracks meandered through rivers and floods of flowers. Some were tender with spring, some already reigned.

Not just blooms, he realized, but the green. There were so many tones and textures of it that each spill or shimmer of pink or white, yellow or blue against it added a wonder. There were pools of water, the glint of copper from a sundial, the charm of a dancing faerie twirling in the shrubbery. He could see benches tucked here and there, some in sun, some in shade, inviting visitors to sit, to enjoy.

He couldn't imagine what it would be like when the young plants burst into full summer bloom, when the vines finished their climb up the arbors. Couldn't conceive of the color and shape, the perfume. Unable to resist, he wandered along some of the