The memory died, leaving him grappling for it like a sleeper groping for wisps of a dream. Keegan looked at him, laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Dale? You okay?”
“Fine.” He shook off his hand.
The admiral gave him a thoughtful look. “Have to get home. The wife is expecting me.”
The woman politely stepped aside to let him pass. Suddenly he pushed her against the wall, his palm splayed over her forehead. Eyes opened wide, she stared at Byrne.
Dale remained motionless, watching with interest. The old man hadn’t done a mind-meld in years.
When he pulled away two minutes later, the admiral didn’t look worried or pleased. Just thoughtful. He glanced at Dale.
“She’s a paranorm. Trust her.” Something very old and sorrowful flickered in the other man’s gaze. “She’ll do you more good than you’ll ever anticipate. You both need each other.”
Keira’s wide mouth wobbled precariously. Seeming to gather her composure, she shot the admiral a scathing look as he pushed past her and went down the steps to his car.
Turning to Dale she asked, “Do you have an air pump? Because it’s getting late and I need to hit the road. If you can’t help me, I’ll knock on someone else’s door.”
The knight in rusty armor, he thought. Can’t help you with anything simpler than an air pump. “Come with me.”
He walked to the garage, where he opened a cabinet door and retrieved the pump and a can of instant flat-tire repair. Keira studied his garage. “Very organized. Everything labeled. Military man. I bet you’re the type who irons your underwear and folds it neatly in the drawer.”
He shot her a look, but she smiled at him, mischief dancing in her green eyes. That look turned him upside down. No one had dared to tease him in a long time.
As they walked back onto the street to her bike, and he set about fixing her flat, she plopped down on the pavement beside him. “I know this is a paranormal neighborhood. I’m a Luminaire.”
Dale plugged the flat and reached for the air pump. “Witch doctor.”
Keira laughed. “That’s what some call me. I’m a psi therapist who helps paranorms restore their energy balance. Perfectly legit. Your neighbor, Mrs. Henderson, asked me to cleanse her home. Had a little issue with dark energy. And you are...?”
Although the admiral vetted her, Dale still didn’t trust the girl. She looked like a pixie with her wide eyes and petite body, but pixies could be trouble.
“Dale Curtis. Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He filled the tire and checked the pressure. Perfect.
She gave him a knowing look. “You should. I can feel the power emanating from you. I know you’re a Mage, but can’t tell what type. I have power, as well. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Her teasing, melodious voice almost coaxed a smile from him. Damn, how long had it been since he’d flirted with a pretty woman?
“You first,” he told her.
Uncurling her fist, she displayed a tiny ball of white energy. The ball danced in the air and then slowly drifted upward, exploding into a shower of silver sparks. Dale went still. He hadn’t shown his powers to anyone but Keegan in a long time. Truth was, his powers had gone south since the demons kicked his ass. No telekinesis. All he could do was shift into a wolf and toss a current of power strong enough only to light dry kindling.
“Not bad.”
He focused all his energy and summoned a large ball of energy, which danced in his open palm. Bouncing it like a baseball, he sent it drifting upward, and it exploded in a much larger shower of sparks. Blood drained from her face, but she stood her ground.
“Yours is bigger than mine.”
Dale’s mouth quirked at the joke.
“You’re a Mage—what kind?” she asked.
“Primary Elemental.”
“Very powerful. But your aura is pulsing with dark energy. You need deep cleansing.” She studied her hands. “Speaking of cleansing, may I wash up? I took a bit of a spill back there.”
Mistrust flickered inside him, but he stood and nodded. She was such a tiny sprite, what harm could she do? Still, he took her hand and turned it over, his hand practically swallowing hers. Dale felt no darkness or negativity flaring from her, only a deeper, sexual spark igniting between them. Curious, he circled the scrape on her palm.
“You hurt yourself,” he murmured. “Come inside, and I’ll find antiseptic.”
He picked up the air pump and can, put them back in the garage and let her into the house through the laundry room. Dale fished out a brown bottle of peroxide and bandages from a white cabinet. Keira winced slightly as he ran warm water over her hand, then treated it with peroxide.
“You’re very good with your hands, but wow, the dark energy I feel from you, it’s not you. Not normally you.”
Dale glanced at her as he finished bandaging her hand.
“I use psi therapy, light and massage techniques to eradicate negative energy. High-frequency healing energy, using the natural elements. Harmonic meditation to calm the mind and soothe the spirit.”
“Natural elements?”
“The power of the sun, wind, earth, even fire.”
“I don’t believe in any of that ‘woo-woo’ stuff.” He replaced the bottle of peroxide.
“Of course. Because even though you’re a Mage, you’re very much a military man who believes in what he can see. You’re a natural leader, a colonel or a captain. No, not army, not with the navy base so close.” Keira wiggled her bandaged fingers. “Thanks.”
His gaze narrowed. “Lieutenant commander. How did you know?”
“Simple deduction. The flag out front, this is a military neighborhood, although a paranormal one, and...”
Silently, she pointed to the uniforms hanging on the door, still covered with dry-cleaning plastic. “I’m really quite psychic. I have ESPN.”
As she winked at him, Dale cracked a reluctant smile.
“Seriously, I can tell you need cleansing. You’ve been in contact with some pretty nasty demons.”
His smile dropped. He gestured to the mounds of dirty laundry piled high in the overflowing hamper. “That’s the cleansing I need. My housekeeper quit.”
Sally had quit with the excuse to move closer to her grandchildren. They both knew the truth. Dale’s nightly screams had fractured her nerves.
She traced a pattern in the air. “There’s thick tendrils of blackness in your aura, blackness pulsing with the other colors.”
“What other colors?” He didn’t believe in Luminaires, but he knew about auras.
“Deep red, indicating you’re a strong-willed and realistic person and a bright, vibrant red that says you’re a powerful and extremely competitive individual.”
“Bright, vibrant red also means someone who’s very sexual,” he said, enjoying the hint of pink spreading across her cheeks.
“Yes, that, too. And you have other colors as well, but they’re so obscured by the blackness, I can’t tell them apart. You’ve come into contact with great evil, evil that touched you deeply.”
This was too close for his comfort zone. He folded his arms across his chest.
“Hire me and I’ll give you