Ruby's Dream (Crystal Warriors 2) - Excerpt Only

Ruby's Dream - Excerpt Only (Chapter 2)

RUBY'S DREAM (Excerpt only)

By Maree Anderson

CHAPTER TWO

Some unnamed force pried open Ruby's fingers. The visions cut off the instant the crystal dropped to the carpet. She was on her feet, yet she didn't remember moving from her seat. Her finger joints throbbed, and she massaged her hand. Even her jaw ached, as though she'd been grinding her teeth together.

What the hell just happened?

A flash of color and movement caught her eye, drawing her to the window. She pressed her nose to the glass and spotted an elderly man strolling down the footpath. His clothes were rather trendy for an old guy—jeans and boots with a white shirt, and a bright golden splash of silky material wrapped around his throat and tucked into the open neck of his shirt.

Auckland weather was mild this time of year, so the scarf struck Ruby as odd. She watched him until he rounded the corner and disappeared from view.

"Bugger! It's broken in half."

Jules' dismayed voice reclaimed Ruby's attention. She turned to see her friend kneeling on the floor. "Sorry, what's broken?" she asked, dazed.

"The crystal I bought you. You would have thought the bloody carpet might have cushioned it. What a piece of crap. God. I'm so sorry, Rubes. I'll buy you another one."

"It's fine, Jules, really." Ruby shook herself—physically and mentally—trying to slough off a lurking uneasiness. "My fault for being so clumsy. Must have gotten a bit heavy-handed with the alcohol in that Mai Tai mix. Anyway, it's all good. Because now I've got two crystals, and double the chakra power."

Jules grinned, admiring Ruby's faked positive take on the incident. "Trust you to look on the bright side."

"What kind of crystal is it, anyway?" Ruby asked. Not that she was curious or anything.

Jules re-wrapped the crystal halves in the torn tissue paper and placed the bundle on the phone table. "Beats me. The old guy from the shop called it ky-something-or-other. But I'm sure I'll remember after a few more of these cocktails." She waggled her empty glass at Ruby.

"What am I? Your slave? Get your own bloody cocktail."

"Some hostess you are."

The doorbell gargled like some unfortunate small creature dying a slow, painful death. Jules hunched her shoulders and made a face. "God. When are you going to get that damn bell fixed?"

 "Never. I'm used to it now. It's quirky. Like me."

Someone jabbed the bell again, and Ruby could hear catcalls and loud chatter from outside.

Jules pinned her with a sharp, too-knowing glance. "Are you ready?"

Ruby had no trouble deciphering that glance, or the sub-text of the question for that matter. Was she ready for the disbelief and unwanted advice from her friends regarding this outrageous goal she'd set herself? Was she ready to face their well-meaning platitudes that she was perfectly okay just the way she was? Was she ready?

The answer was, "Shit, no!" No way in heck was she ready. And, in retrospect, maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to email her entire contacts list about registering for the triathlon. But Ruby would bluff her way through this evening—as she had so many others.

She smoothed her dress over her hips, threw back her shoulders and stuck out her chest. "Fix me another cocktail, Jules. It's show time."

Jules saluted her with an empty glass. "You got it, babe."