"I think I'm allergic to it." She kept up the pressure, secretly gloating at Leone's discomfort.

"No. No, you're not. Are you?" Leone looked anxiously at her. Inwardly Amy giggled at the ferocious snake-charming Leone, now reduced to casting stupid spells to catch Amy's attention. I'll give her my attention, all right.

"It itches my eyes. See?" She leaned in with widened eyes until they were almost nose to nose. Leone's breath hitched in response and her inky irises expanded at a million miles a second. It gave Amy a thrilling surge of...what, power, mischief? She enjoyed teasing big bad Leone Garoul like this.

Leone seemed to pulse toward her. She filled every inch of space. Every hair on Amy's skin rose. She tingled from head to toe.

Suddenly, it was no longer a silly game. In an instant it had become exciting and dangerous. She could feel the heat rolling off Leone's body, smell the warm spice of her skin, and practically count those long dark eyelashes. She used to do that...a million years ago. Try to count them, as they lay entwined in meadows, on the riverbank, and once...only once in Leone's bed. Now their gazes locked, and they bewitched each other all over again.

Hesitant, then suddenly sure, Amy leaned in and simply rubbed noses. She used to do that a million years ago, too. Time collapsed around them, and a million years compressed into this single moment, erasing all the time between here and yesterday.

Leone was still and careful. She didn't so much as twitch.

She swallowed everything, every detail. Amy was playful with her, warm with remembering, softened by the happy times, and offering-offering what?

A low growl rolled in Leone's throat; she was heated, unsure, wanting. And then Amy moved toward her once more, and her lips poured over hers with the sweetness and satiny heat of melting chocolate.

* 114 *

In that moment, without question, doubt, or reservation, Leone Garoul believed in magic.

Her mate had been returned to her. She had burned a thousand candles. Offered up enough incense and herbs to woo the whole world. Leone had woven her spells and cast them around her chosen one. Amy had been conjured by her, and for her, and was never going to leave her again.

With a throaty growl she spilled Amy over onto her back, covering her. Fingers whispered through silken curls, traced the nape of neck and throat. Stroking her from shoulder to wrist and back again, enjoying the contours, the texture of Amy's skin, so pale against her own. Leone nuzzled the sensitive spot below Amy's ear, the hollow of her throat, her eyebrow, her hairline. She dropped kisses down to the small dent just below the full lower lip. Leone breathed her in and lapped her up, scent, and texture, and heat, covering every inch of Amy's face in an act of worship.

She swept the flat of her tongue across Amy's rosy cheek, dragged her teeth slowly down Amy's throat, to lay in thrall over the trembling pulse point, waiting until the hum of Amy's life blood harmonized with the pounding of her own heart- "Ow, stop nipping."

Leone rose from the scented throat, eyes unfocused. She was suffused with everything that smelled, tasted, felt, like Amy Fortune.

She tried to concentrate on the flushed face scowling at her through a mass of snarled curls.

"Don't you dare mark me. I see you're still a biter," Amy said.

Leone looked at the scarlet bruises already forming on Amy's neck, and decided not to mention them. She burned with excitement and energy. Slowly she lowered her mouth and claimed Amy's with a deep kiss that shut out the rest of the world.

Amy moaned and buried her fingers in hair as heavy and dark as a midnight sky, twisting and knotting it into hungry fistfuls. She wrapped herself around Leone and held on tight. Legs and arms entwined, they rocked against each other, the air thick with moans and murmurs, growls and whimpers. They were not gentle with each other. They never really had been. And they were hungry now.

* 115 *

It had been a long time. Their kisses were urgent, hands greedy.

They tussled and tugged at each other's clothing like the teenagers they once were, until the ripping of material startled Amy. Leone had shredded her pajamas in her haste.

"Damn it, Leone. These cost over fifty dollars. Go easy. And no biting."

Unheeding, Leone's mouth devoured her breasts, gorging on the soft tissue, torturing the sensitive tips with urgent tugs and nips.

She sank her teeth into creamy flesh that rippled under her tongue- Amy grabbed her by the ears.

"Hey, Ruff-Stuff. No teeth. I like things different now."

Leone's eyes glittered, her white teeth flashed through blood red lips. Flushed and breathless, she was reckless in her immediate need. She trembled with primal energy. Amy had never seen her so beautiful, desire spiked through her like quicksilver. Every instinct, nerve, sense her body had was urging her to bond with this woman.

It screamed at her to do so, but Amy was adamant this was going to be her way.

Things had changed. She was no longer the inexperienced teenager who allowed Leone to run amok over her body as they eagerly discovered sex for the first time. To this day she still bore a mark, a small pink rosette on the back of her left thigh, a bite mark that had never faded.

Tonight, Amy was determined they would not fall back into that heady chaos. There would be passion, but her way, how she wanted it. And tonight she wanted to make love, and it was damn well going to be on her terms. Tonight they would finally close the door on a painful past and move on, freed from it. So she hung on to Leone's ears, until those flashing eyes focused on her face.

"I don't like having my breasts mauled. I like them to be kissed-slowly-all over." She watched Leone intently to ensure the words were seeping into her lust-puddled brain. Amy took the big, black blink to be an affirmative.

"Then I like my nipples licked with long, swirling strokes until they are rock hard." This was greeted with a second slow blink. She had all of Leone's attention now.

* 116 *

"That's when I love to have them sucked. Not hard, but not too soft either. Suck them just right, and I'll come for you. All over this couch." There was no blink this time. It seemed Leone had lost the power to her eyelids; she just stared at Amy, and swallowed hard.

Finally, as if she felt responsible for the thick silence that had wrapped around them, Leone blurted in a choked voice, "They're bigger than before-your breasts."

Now it was Amy's turn to blink.

She responded carefully, with deliberation, "Yes. It's been a while. I became a woman."

With Amy's words the years apart opened up like a chasm for Leone. So much had changed for Amy. So much worldly travel and new experiences. She had gone out and lived, while Leone had sat and brooded. Fear coiled in her guts, freezing her with uncertainty. She felt alone, teetering on the edge of an abyss. For Leone understood the balance, had mastered the tilt of it. She stood on the brink of a life worth living, or an existence alone.

If Amy rejected her there was none other, and it was done with.

She would have selected her mate and been refused. A long time ago she'd lost Amy through her own inexperience and lack of courage.

What would be her excuse now?

Amy raised her head and gently claimed Leone's hesitant mouth, remembering another time when she thought of these lips as all her own. The day the teenage Amy lost Leone Garoul, she lost Little Dip, and her home, and a little bit of herself, too. It had taken many years of traveling and living her own adventures to put her wholly and firmly back on the map of her life. And what had she done? Where had she gone? She'd run right back to Little Dip.

Straight back to the Garoul valley, to Connie's cabin, Leone's arms, this madness, with all the ingenuity of a lemming.

Here was home, here was shelter, here she felt whole and satisfied. And a big part of that, an agonizing part of it, was the woman lying beside her on this skinny little couch, taking up far too much room as usual.

The kiss deepened. Leone tried to be tender, tried to remember.

But firm breasts pushed against her own with only her borrowed * 117 *

T-shirt separating their flesh but not their heat. Leone wanted more.

She wanted taste, and deep scent, and essence. She wanted all of Amy. Slowly, she began the act of claiming.

Amy squirmed against her, arching into Leone's belly, rocking on her thigh. They molded to each other, sinuously rolling, caught in an ancient rhythm that at the same time was solely their own.

Amy's nails trailed patterns across Leone's long, lean back. Leone's rumbling growl resonated against Amy's throat, making her skin tingle; she arched her back into the strong body covering hers. Her breasts were lavished with wet, sucking kisses until they flushed pink, their tips hard.

Leone sucked with a delicate passion, sensitive to Amy's murmurs and the frantic movements beneath her. She was quickly learning Amy's secrets, a mixture of old and new, marveling at the pleasure the act of loving Amy brought both of them.

When she finally abandoned the breasts they were swollen and firm, glistening with her saliva, the areolas puckering in the cool air. Amy murmured in disappointment and Leone grinned into the soft skin of her stomach. Her hair trailed across Amy's belly as she dropped kisses all the way down to her navel. Leone crooned happily to herself as she circled Amy's belly button with wet kisses and dipped her tongue into the salty indent. She teased and played until Amy's hands caught fistfuls of her hair and guided her on to their joint goal. Amy quickly raised her hips, spreading herself open, offering herself to Leone. Without hesitation Leone plunged onto her sex.

Leone had been patient; she had been careful; she had paced herself to the wishes and rhythm of Amy's body. Now Amy's scent was too strong and Leone's needs too great.

With a deep growl Leone nuzzled the tender folds. She drew the plump clitoris into her mouth and drove Amy relentlessly toward the precipice. Leone's hair was pulled, her shoulders scratched as Amy cried out to her for that one, elusive, torturous touch that would shatter her into stardust.

Amy knew this was going to be big. She knew Leone would take her there. Every molecule of her body centered on her lover- * 118 *

and then she came, a tidal wave of pure heat that melted every bone in her body and blew off a dozen pyrotechnics in her skull. Above her shuddering cries she faintly heard a deep panting growl. Amy's eyes fluttered open and she briefly glimpsed a dark devilish stare shining up at her. Leone's eyes danced with pride and love. Her tan cheeks and chin glistened in the firelight, damp and pungent with Amy's essence. The air around them was thick with sweat, and sex, and scullcap.

Leone crawled up her body and kissed her with sweet, salty lips, sharing the joy she had tasted. And as they kissed Amy cradled her in her arms, tightening her thighs around Leone's waist, and held on to her as if she were drowning.

* 119 *

* 120 *

chapteR thiRteen.

Amy poked her nose out from under a heap of blankets and knew immediately that she was alone. Leone must have sneaked out early in the morning, leaving her to sleep on peacefully.

The fire smoked and crackled, spreading warmth into the room.

Leone had relit it without waking her. She was grateful for the heat but would have preferred waking up snug and warm in Leone's arms. In the kitchen she found a small bunch of wildflowers nestled by the coffeepot, anchoring a note.

Sorry. Something very urgent has come up and I have to go. I wish I could have stayed and watched you wake. Can I see you later tonight? I really am sorry.

L.

PS. You look beautiful when you're sleeping.

It was an awkward, shy note, emotionally clumsy and a little unsure. The star-pointed flowers were a perfect accompaniment for the sentiment. They were shy and delicate blossoms. Amy knew Leone had hunted these down in some far-off stony area. They did not grow in the rich loam by the river. It was a sweet gesture, a poignant throwback to their teenage years. Again, Amy felt a pang of regret that Leone had gone. She wanted to be with her. She needed Leone's reassuring presence after their night of lovemaking. From the timbre of the note she knew Leone needed hers, too. Whatever had taken her away had to have been important.

* 121 *

With a sigh, Amy put the flowers in a tumbler of water and started making breakfast. She relaxed on the couch with her coffee and idly flicked through the pages of the Wicca spell book. She wondered who the publishers were. She'd never heard of the Wiccan Wheel before. I must ask Marie. This is her area of expertise. She scanned a few of the love potions and recipes. It was sort of laid out like a cookbook... Amy frowned. She was looking at a potion that included angelica. The gram amounts used were very reasonable, but something jarred her.

She sat back and gazed off into the middle distance, collecting her thoughts. Where had she seen angelica recipes recently? In the almanac. Right beside Connie's illustration with the weird marks.

Amy went to Connie's desk, opened the almanac, and found the angelica illustration. The recipe with it was one of Marie's. An herbal infusion for colic...and curing the bite of wild dogs. Wild dogs? Bloody hell, Marie.

Unlike in the Wicca book, the ingredient measurements in Marie's recipe were all wrong. This would choke you. Even I know that. The recipe went on to mention another botanical ingredient, lady's bedstraw, again in bizarrely inaccurate amounts.

Amy flipped to the page with the illustration for lady's bedstraw.

The illustration had extraneous markings just like angelica. Amy didn't have to be overly familiar with the plant to see them. Once she suspected they were there, they practically leapt off the page.

What the hell was going on? The weird measurements she guessed were linked back to the plant illustrations, but in what way? By looking at the recipe amounts she could guess which plant illustrations would have hidden sigils-the ones with the crazy gram measurements had the marks.

Amy checked out other almanacs at random. Her theory worked. Each had a weird recipe among the real ones, and for every strange herb dosage she found the related plant illustration had discreet markings hidden in it.

It was all part of the code she had suspected from the moment she had seen the marks in Connie's work. But the marks meant nothing on their own. She still needed the missing link. All codes and ciphers had a key. She'd read about it in the library book.

* 122 *

Okay, so she could link the confusing recipes doses to certain illustrations, but that wasn't enough. A key, she had to figure out the key. Amy knew this had nothing to do with the anniversary almanac idea Marie tried to sell her last night. Connie would have talked to her about that. They shared their ideas and swapped opinions. They had always worked like that. Pooling knowledge, sharing research.

Connie would not have kept information about an anniversary almanac from her. But would she have withheld a code?

Amy chewed her lip. Maybe this was something Connie didn't know she was involved in? She wished Connie was available, even on the end of a telephone. Amy wanted to reassure herself that all this strange, mysterious stuff had nothing to do with Connie being ill. She desperately wanted Connie to let her in on the secret. If Connie was part of it, that was.

Amy doubted either Leone or Marie would tell her the truth.

The code was there for a reason. This was secret knowledge, and only the almanac's exclusive readership would know it was embedded in the books at all. Amy would have to solve the mystery by herself.

A tapping on the roof shook her out of her reverie. Was Leone up there fixing it, as promised? What about the urgent business that took her away so early?

Amy stepped outside. The wind had risen and snatched her hair, whipping it around her shoulders. She looked up at the shingles, concerned Leone was looking for snake holes in such blustery weather.

"Leone? Are you up there? Be careful. It's too windy."

Leone was nowhere in sight. The overhanging tree branches dipped and swayed, knocking on the cabin roof. That had been the tapping noise.

She wandered around to the rear of the cabin, hoping Leone might be back there doing some other repairs. Amy missed her already, and wished- She jarred to a halt, looking in horror at the back wall of Connie's cabin. It was completely lacerated. The surface wood hung in gouged-out tatters. The surround and sills of the small bathroom window were splintered apart. No wonder she * 123 *

could barely open it. It was ruined, and it wasn't recent damage either; it was sustained.

Amy slowly backed away to the front of the cabin where she felt safer.

"Okay." She took a dry swallow. "I've got to tell Claude and Marie there's something in the valley damaging property as well as trees."

She went back indoors and dragged on her coat. She wasn't exactly sure what the Garouls could do, but it wasn't acceptable for whatever it was to get this close to the cabin. Especially Connie's cabin, which was farther out than the compound ones. Was that why she kept a gun?

v The wind had died away by the time Amy arrived at the compound. She rounded the corner of Claude's cabin and came to an abrupt halt. Before her on a huge A-frame an adult deer hung by its hind legs. Its body cavity was opened and gutted. The carcass was headless and the stump of a neck was totally mangled, as if the head had literally been ripped off. A fly-infested bucket sat to the side. She assumed it held the entrails.

"Hi, Amy."

The soft voice came from behind her. Spinning around she saw Paulie approach, an impressively wicked knife dangled from his hand. He smiled at her before blushing fiercely. Amy wondered if he had perhaps developed a little crush on her. He seemed very awkward around her.

"Hi, Paulie. Is this the deer Claude and Leone hit with the truck last night?"

Paulie blinked before burning an even brighter shade of red.