Nina's fingers trembled as she shoved the last of her tools into the worn leather satchel, the sense of urgency gnawing at her insides like a ravenous beast. Her destination was Canada, somewhere near Muir, according to her most recent, albeit murky, visions. The calling this time was relentless, a fiery pulse in her veins that she couldn't ignore.
She scanned her modest lodging one final time. Malindi had been a peaceful respite for three months, a rare lull between the callings that dictated her life. But three days ago, the visions had come crashing back, insistent and raw, tearing through her tranquility. Callings typically allowed a six-month grace period. This one, however, seemed hell-bent on immediate attention.
Satisfied she had everything, Nina slipped out, leaving her keys with the bemused caretaker. An Uber idled at the curb, ready to whisk her away to the airport. There, a private jet awaited, her reluctant chariot to the unknown. She checked her supply of mints and sleeping pills; her dread of flying had only deepened after surviving a harrowing plane crash. Her fingers traced the scar on her left wrist, the memory of searing pain and near-death still fresh.
Duke was waiting at the jet, clad in his usual battle-ready ensemble of a black t-shirt, cargo pants, and rugged boots. His perpetual readiness for conflict was both reassuring and sobering.
"You're right on time, Nina. I didn't expect us to be leaving so soon. Are you holding up?"
"I'm fine, Duke. This calling came too soon, but it feels... urgent."
"I meant, have you rested enough? The last mission was brutal, and the crash—"
Nina cut him off with a gentle smile, warmth spreading from his concern. "I'm okay. We're just assessing things, no heavy lifting. I promise."
Their partnership spanned five intense years, a blend of her spiritual acumen and his tactical prowess. Duke liaised with the counsel, a body she vehemently avoided. They saw her gifts as tools for governance; she craved freedom.
She settled into a bucket seat aboard the jet, Duke across from her, eyes watchful. As the attendant stowed her luggage, a violent vision tore her from reality.
She was in an unfamiliar house. A figure dressed in black, a ninja, crept through a window, gripping a small vial. Malice, fear, and lethal intent emanated from the intruder, slamming into Nina with a force that nearly knocked her off balance. The ninja ascended the stairs and entered a bedroom. The occupant slept soundly, oblivious to the danger.
The ninja moved to the bathroom, dumping the vial's contents into the mouthwash before retreating.
Nina snapped back to reality, Duke's intense gaze anchoring her. The jet was airborne, and a wave of nausea crashed over her.
"I feel awful. Can I tell you about the vision once we land? I need to sleep."
"Of course. Anything specific I should watch for?"
"Someone named Jefferson. He'll be dead before we arrive, poisoned. His name was on a piece of mail in the house."
Nina swallowed a sleeping pill, the world fading into a merciful oblivion as the plane hurtled toward an uncertain destiny.
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The Millionaire and The Witch
RomanceNina gets a strong calling but it's unclear what she needs to do. She has a vision of a murder but knows she can't save the victim. Samson has been investigating some curious activities and now a murder has intrigued him. A wealthy Millionaire buys...
