Kiss of Shadows [Claiming Series, #4]

- 7 -

They all piled into Asher's ramshackle car and dropped Julie at the morgue. Then Asher and Mackenzie warded Caro's apartment and Asher gave her some holy water and a tiny vial of sanctified oil. "Carry them with you," he suggested. "You never know."

But after they'd returned Asher and Mackenzie to the office to do more research on Pritchett's background, Iain and Caro took the car to go visit some more shops catered to the adherents of alternative religions.

"I really hadn't realized how many of these shops are," Caro remarked. "And I thought I knew this city, being a cop."

"I imagine they keep a fairly low profile. Most would tend to have a small, select clientele, and they wouldn't want problems with mainstream religionists."

"I guess. It just seems odd I've never really noticed them before."

"Why? Because of your grandmother?"

Caro glanced at him. "Maybe I didn't notice because of my grandmother. Out of sight, out of mind."

"Ah." He let that lie, giving her space to work it through if she wanted.

It was then that she remembered another dream from her nap that afternoon, one that had nothing to do with her incredible desire to hop in the sack with a vampire.

Her grandmother. She had been sitting on her grandmother's lap in the old rocking chair that creaked with every movement. Grandma had been telling her another of her fantastical stories—or had she?

Dreams were elusive at the best of times, and since she'd already almost forgotten she had this one, it was a struggle to remember much more than how good she'd always felt sitting on Grandma's lap.

How safe. How cherished. A lump rose in her throat.

You have the gift, sweet child. I feel it in you. It's a greater gift than mine, perhaps as great as my grandmother's.

What had that meant? Had her mind made it up? But no, something deep within her felt convinced that her grandmother had said that. A great gift?

She closed her eyes and tried to pull more of the memory or dream to mind, sensing it might be important in some way, whether her sleeping brain had manufactured it or whether it was the result of something she recalled.

Feel within yourself. It's sleeping now, dreaming of great things, but you can wake it at any time, my darling Caro. Belief if the key.

Belief? All her life she'd refused to believe in much beyond her five senses. Yes, she had a certain psychic skill, but sometimes she even convinced herself she was just good at reading people.

Even though she never quite believed that.

"Iain?"

"Yes?"

"When you were a mage—well, I guess you still are—but back when you practiced all the time, what did belief mean to you?"

"In what way? What I believed in? What I believed about myself? How I used belief?"

She hesitated, partly because the question wasn't really clear to her. "I think my grandmother once said that belief is the key, and I think she meant to my power."

"That would make sense. Do you want to stop for some coffee before we go to the first shop? You look cold."

Well, of course she was cold, she thought wryly. He was protecting himself against her scents by keeping his window rolled down again. If she had to ride in the car too often with this guy, she was going to need better winter clothes.