Mysteria Nights

“Well, I was kissing him and looking over his shoulder and thinking about the moon and lesson plans and stuff, and I thought I saw something—or someone—outside by the edge of the woods. Then the next morning I found my purse and the painting on my front porch.”

“Wait, back up. Kenny was kissing you, and you were thinking about lesson plans and crap like that?”

Summer nodded.

“That’s a damn shame. I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with fairies these days. Kenny-benny doesn’t ring my bell, but damn! He’s a fairy, a fey being who practically has sex and frolics for a living. He should be able to hold a woman’s attention with a kiss.”

“Don’t be so hard on him. I’d just been kissed by Colin, and the comparison was not good for Kenny.”

Jenny rolled her eyes. “Yet you were going on and on about how you weren’t interested in the vamp and how he wasn’t your type and how he didn’t fit into your control-freak plan.”

“I’m not a control freak, or at least not all the time. Anyway, Colin might not be exactly what I’ve thought of as my type, but he’s definitely a better kisser than Ken.”

“Big surprise there,” Jenny said.

“Be nice,” Summer said.

Jenny rolled her eyes again.

“Like I said, I’m going to swing by the gallery after school. This time it’ll be just me and not a busload of germs and hormones. Maybe sparks will fly again between us, maybe not. But I’m going to give him a shot.”

“Good idea. And speaking of germs and hormones, I’m not done deciding on that damn Purdom kid’s detention for that bullshit spell he cast yesterday. I’m still looking into the he-had-an-accomplice angle.”

“You might want to interrogate McArter; they’re buds. Oh, and remember, don’t tell him about my magic,” Summer added quickly.

“I got it the first hundred times you told me to keep quiet about it. Don’t worry; I think it’s hilarious that they don’t know about your magic. Makes them think their magic is totally screwed up, which serves them right. They shouldn’t be using magic at school or at a school event. Brats,” Jenny said, eyes flashing.

The bell rang, and both women sighed. “Back into the fray,” Jenny said.

“Do you think it’s possible to Shakespeare freshmen to death?” Summer asked.

“One can only hope,” Jenny said.

Eight

Summer checked her lipstick in her car’s rearview mirror and smoothed her hair, feeling insanely thankful that the day was bright and clear and humidity-free, which meant she was having a good hair day. She glanced at the front of Dark Shadows. There were no other cars parked close by, and she mentally crossed her fingers that three o’clock was too early for evening visitors and too late for lunchtime visitors, so it would be empty. Well, except for Colin, that is.

She could do this. She could go inside and smile and thank him for returning her purse and leaving such a great gift. She could figure out a way to let him know that Kenny was history. And maybe, just maybe, she could see if that amazing sizzle that sparked between them yesterday was more than just a magical fluke. Then she could consider revising her future plan to include him.

Before she could chicken out, Summer forced herself to get out of the car and enter the dark, cool gallery.

Her first thought was that her hunch had been right; the gallery appeared deserted. Her second thought was that it was very uncomfortable to be standing there all by herself with only the feeling of being watched to keep her company.

The feeling of being watched?

Definitely. She definitely could feel eyes on her: dark, hungry, intense eyes. Almost as if he drew her gaze, she turned her head and looked deeper into the shadows of the gallery. Sure enough, Colin was standing there, his gaze locked on her.

“Good afternoon, Summer,” he said.

His voice reminded her of dark chocolate and wine and sex.

“Hi,” she blurted, hating how nervous she sounded. Then she cleared her throat and got control of herself. “I hope you don’t mind me just dropping in like this.”

His lips tilted up slightly. “It’s a gallery. The idea is for people to drop in.”

“Then I’m glad I have the right idea,” she said, tilting her own lips up.

“And I’m glad you came by. I wanted to see you again. Would you like to come back to my office?”

“Yes, yes, I would.”

Summer’s smile increased as she followed Colin, getting another excellent view of his tight butt as he led her through the room with the Romeo and Juliet painting, back to an inconspicuous door that opened to an ornate, fussily decorated office.

“This is definitely not you,” she said, running her finger down the back of a gilded Louis the Something-or- Other chair. Then her gaze flew up to him as she tried to gauge if she’d just offended him.

He simply shrugged and said, “You’re right. This is Barnabas’s office, and it’s definitely him. He likes pomp and circumstance and lots of gold.”

“And what do you like?” Summer heard her voice asking the question that had flitted automatically through her mind. She clamped her mouth shut. She usually had more control than speaking her thoughts aloud, but she found herself being temporarily glad of her lack of control when his gaze went dark and intense as he answered her.

“If you mean what kind of decoration, I like it more masculine, although I don’t think a house is really a home without a woman’s touch.” The vampire blinked, obviously surprised at his response, and then he smiled almost shyly at Summer. “I think that’s the first time I’ve admitted that to myself.”

“Admitted that you like a woman’s touch?” she asked softly.

His gaze trapped hers. “Admitted that I need a woman’s touch,” he said. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. You affect me oddly, Summer.”

“Is that a good or a bad thing?” she asked.

“For me, it is a very good thing,” he said.

They stared at each other until Summer became uncomfortable under the heat of his scrutiny. “Thank you for returning my purse to me,” she said, trying to temper the electricity that was building between them with words. “And I absolutely love the Romeo and Juliet painting. Thank you for it.”

“I’m glad you like it. I wanted to give you something that might make you remember what happened yesterday.”

“It’s been kinda hard for me to forget,” Summer said.

“For me, too.” Colin moved closer to her. “Yesterday meant a lot to me. I haven’t felt the sun on my skin in many decades. It’s not something I want to forget.”

“You know I didn’t do it on purpose. I can’t bring you the sun again.” Summer was finding it hard to think rationally with him so close, but her mind was working enough that she wanted to make it perfectly clear to him that she couldn’t just zap them back into the picture; she couldn’t make the sun shine for him.

Colin touched the side of her face. “You’re wrong about that.”

Summer shivered. His touch was cool, but her skin beneath his fingers came alive with heat.

You are my sunshine.

Summer jumped when his voice sounded inside her head.

“You heard that, didn’t you?” he said.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I also heard you call to me from across the room yesterday.”

That dark intensity was back in his eyes, and he spoke with such emotion, such passion, that Summer’s heartbeat quickened, and she felt her breathing deepen.

“You don’t know me, and I don’t know you, but there is something between us that I’ve not experienced until I touched you yesterday. You say you can’t bring me sunshine again, yet to me your skin, your breath, your hair,