"Well, of course not," Joy said. "Personally, I like the effect. It makes you look… unique."

I snorted. "Unique, that's a nice way of saying it. The silver eye would be bad enough by itself, but coupled with the dark eye…" I shrugged and put my glasses back on. "Most people get nervous around me when I'm not wearing my glasses."

Roxy peered in the side of my glasses again until Joy smacked her arm and told her to behave. "It's unusual, Allie, but not unnerving. Don't feel like you have to hide your eyes from us."

"So what's a Summoner?" Roxy changed the subject abruptly as the waitress brought our drinks and Joy's food.

I chewed on my lip for a moment. Something was bothering me; some vague sense of unease was growing. I took a long look at the two women next to me, but the feeling wasn't coming from them.

"A Summoner has the power to talk to ghosts." I turned my head to scan the people in the espresso area, my gaze moving beyond to the line of people visible waiting for Dante to sign their books. The line was smaller now, just twenty or so people left, but something nagged at me, pulled at my mind as if I were missing something important.

"Cool!" Roxy breathed. "And you're one? You can talk to ghosts? Do you use a Ouija board or something?"

"Wait a minute," Joy said, her brow furrowed as she tapped out a tattoo on the tabletop. "I think I read something about that in one of Christian's books… isn't a Summoner someone who can raise the dead?"

I gave the line one last worried look, then turned back to shake my head at Joy. "Not really, no. We can only call those spirits who are already present, tied to a location, not ones who have passed on to another existence. But once we call them, they stay bound to us until we release them. Summoners are used primarily in cases of hauntings that trouble the living, poltergeists and the like. The spirit is Summoned, then Released to move on to where they were meant to go."

"We? So you're a Summoner?" Roxy asked, her eyes big.

I nodded.

"Wow. Can anyone do it? I mean, is it a matter of just a few magic words and voilà, you got yourself the ghost of Great-Grandpa Joe?"

"Don't be so flippant, Roxy; this is a serious matter. If Allie is Christian's—" She stopped and gave me a toothy smile. "Well, regardless, I'm sure she is uniquely qualified to do what she's doing."

"Oh." Roxy eyed me. "Yeah. I see what you mean."

"I don't," I replied, looking from her to Joy. "I take it Christian is C. J. Dante?"

Both nodded at me.

"Would either of you happen to know if he's riddled with at least a hundred cuts on his torso, arms, and legs?"

As if they were in unison, both their mouths dropped open in surprise.

I sighed. "I'll take that as a no. Right. So what does Christian have to do with me, other than—" It was my turn to stop in the middle of sentence.

"Other than what?" Roxy asked, just as I knew she would. "Have you met him before? He never told us he met you, and I think he would, don't you, Joy?"

"Yes," she said, her dark eyes considering me as she munched on a lemon muffin. She licked crumbs from her lips and glanced at Roxy. "Christian is a very dear friend of ours. We promised last year to help him find… someone."

"Someone? Like a blind date?"

Roxy snorted.

"Not quite," Joy said, popping another piece of muffin in her mouth.

I didn't believe her. She was trying to match Christian up with someone; I could feel her concern about him. Still, that had nothing to do with me, nothing unless it turned out he really was in that inn last night, and then I had a few questions for him, questions like what on earth he was doing cutting himself up like that, and who were the people he was waiting for, and how did he get rid of everything so quickly without me seeing him… Suddenly the word vampire echoed in my head. I blinked. "He's a vampire?"

"Shhh!" both women shushed me, looking around to see if anyone was within hearing distance. Only one person was, and I unguarded my mind a moment to see if she believed what she heard. She didn't.

"You're kidding, right? I realize that he's a bit… well… intense, but a you-know-what?" They both looked back at me with serious, unblinking eyes. I shook my head, glancing again at the line before turning back to the two women next to me. "Ladies, the world of the supernatural is my business. I'm a Summoner; I work for an international organization that investigates paranormal activities in an attempt to prove and explain them. I know about ghosts, poltergeists, demons, both minor and major—"

"Demons?" Roxy asked. "You mean there are really such things as demons? Holy cow!" She turned to her friend. "Bet you five bucks our ninth grade algebra teacher was a demon."

Joy ignored the interruption. So did I. The feeling of doom was growing, creeping up on me, making me restless with the need to be doing something. I gnawed my lip for a moment, scanning everyone left in the book line, but without unguarding myself—something I didn't want to do with Christian sitting over there thinking who knew what—I couldn't pinpoint the source of my concern. I took a deep breath and returned to what I was saying. "I know witches and wizards, have sat in a Wiccan circle, and seen things that would make most people pee their pants."

"So've we," Roxy said with a grin. Joy frowned at her.

"But I've never, ever seen a vampire. Nor have I ever heard of anyone mention seeing one. There are just some things like were-whatevers and vampires and the Loch Ness Monster that have more basis in myth than reality. I realize your friend is a bit unusual, and heaven only knows what he's told you, but I can assure you that he's not…"

The skin on my back tightened uncomfortably as my head was flooded with strong emotion. I jumped up from the table and ran toward the line of people, my leg stiff and sore and slowing me down so I didn't think I was going to make it in time. I saw the gun even before Christian did, and shouted out a warning. The bookstore employee standing next to the customer grabbed her, turning her so that the gun was pointed away from Christian… directly at me.

I tried to make my body move sideways down one of the aisles, tried to stop my headlong rush right at the madwoman who had intended to shoot Christian, but I was too slow. Her finger tightened on the trigger even as the bookstore employee struggled with her. Just before the bullet exploded through me, there was a rush of air, and suddenly I was lying on my back in an aisle between two rows of bookshelves, my breath knocked out by the heavy body lying on top of me. I blinked and stared up into the eyes peering down at me.

"You have mismatched eyes," Christian said, almost against my lips. "You have the Sight."

I was suddenly filled with the overwhelming desire to tip my chin up enough to taste his mouth, but instead I pulled a hand free and felt my face. My glasses had been knocked off when I was pushed aside.

"How did you do that?" I asked, extremely aware of his body resting against mine. His hair had come loose from its ponytail, flowing around our heads like a silken curtain. "How did you move faster than a bullet? Your name isn't really Clark Kent, is it?"

He frowned. All sorts of spots on my body started tingling, especially the parts of me that were pressed against parts of him. "I believe a better question is how long you knew that woman was intending to shoot me?"

"Oh, my God, are you two all right?" It was Joy, standing at our feet.

"Are you implying I had something to do with that?" I ignored her question to ask him. "Because if you are, you can just think again. In case you've forgotten, I tried to help you."

His eyes narrowed. "The store manager would have noticed the woman in time, even without you yelling in such a very convenient manner."