Since Haeth and Striker were sleeping, and Tasia was always oblivious when writing, Leslie snuck up behind her to peer over her shoulder as she typed. It was already partway into November, and things had been quiet for the last half of the month.
There was still no sign of Allister anywhere though everyone continued to search. Not even the two resident finders were able to get a proper fix on his location, so Rachel was, needless to say, worried sick. Her birthday had fallen at the beginning of the month, but she had effectively ignored it in favor of trying to find her husband. More than her planned on yelling at him, to be sure.
Storm had decided to take an advanced culinary course offered at the university that was not offered in the future, so he spent as much time there as he did at home since it ran five days a week. He wasn't alone, though; Leslie had decided to take one of the advanced communications skills courses. It kept everyone happy that they wouldn't be bored, and that Storm could keep an eye on Leslie as needed. Leslie didn't mind that either.
Word of Tasia's pregnancy had spread fast. It could be dangerous to keep it a secret, especially depending on how long things ran. Finding out that Yvonne and Doug would get the distinction of being the second Caretaker-Cultivator pair to see their grandchild had helped take away more sting of losing Byron and Jean, perhaps ironically. Rachel had intended to not tell anyone about her twins, but in light of the events, she had to confess. It raised hope in everyone they might all get such a gift, and everyone had insisted on hugging Tasia; thank goddess she actually didn't mind her touchy-feely family. It also turned out that Raine and Emily weren't the only ones who owed money to someone; Alexandria had owed Rocky money too. He had been having the same visions as Theo!
Things were as normal as they could be, particularly since Tasia was still writing her latest work despite the Era change; she had brought along her PCM for just such a thing. Leslie read silently over her shoulder and fought back a shiver. It was a murder mystery with magic, evil dream eaters, and the main characters fighting to stay alive before their dreams were devoured. It sounded a little too realistic to Leslie, all things considered, as if it had or could happen. Then again, maybe it had at some point. She had stopped asking where her twin got her ideas.
She realized that Tasia had stopped typing and looked down to see her looking up with a lifted brow. Sheepishly Leslie said, "I was just curious."
"Yes, and you know I hate people looking over my shoulder. It's creepy." Tasia turned around in her chair and smiled. "It's late, Les, so maybe you should get some sleep. Maybe there'll be a surprise when you wake up tomorrow morning."
Leslie blinked and then her eyes went wide with delight. "You mean you've got enough to print for me to read?!" She had been promised that she would get first read right alongside Raine, who was the illustrator. She hugged Tasia enthusiastically as she laughed and then ran down the hall calling, "I'm going to sleep now so the morning comes quicker!"
"It doesn't work that way!" Tasia called after her, still laughing, and then turned back to her machine to set it to print out the first fifteen chapters. By the time Raine and Leslie got through them, she would have the rest done. That was usually how it went.
She sat back in her chair and glanced down the hallway toward the room Leslie shared with Rhya. Her twin had not said anything, but she hadn't needed to say a word. Even those without Telepathy or Empathy knew she had sustained some wounds to her soul on All Hallows from her inability to get close to her soul mate. Something had happened to be sure, but it had not given her the sign she needed.
Tasia drummed her fingers on her arm and thought about the possible plans of attack. She would do whatever it took to help Leslie find the sign from Chance that she needed in order to pursue him. They all knew that they were soul mates. Chance just needed to figure it out himself. In a way, Tasia felt sorry for him. His inability to recognize different types of love meant he could not enjoy life as fully as everyone else did. A part of him, still, remained in limbo. Maybe it had always been there.
* * * * *
From his hidden base in the middle of Lux, Alloran stared into the depths of his crystal ball at the sleeping form of Leslie. He knew all too well that she was one of the Resurrection Dual Cultivators and therefore in possession of magikry. He also knew that going after her directly would bring down the wrath of one pissed off sorceress. It was a calculated risk he took, but he knew that the Resurrection Cultivators were all likely to be in possession of pure Life Orbs. It was worth at least one attempt on them directly, and if he went after this one where the others couldn't reach, then he should be safe.
He had debated his options and then determined the easiest place to strike would be within her own sleeping mind. By nature of her connection to the Ephemeral Plane as its future Ruler, she rarely ever actually dreamed unless the Archon of the Fields sent her something, so nothing should get in Alloran's way. All he needed to do was borrow a little more power and use his crystal to connect to her sleeping mind. As soon as he got the monster inside to influence her, the rest would be easy. No one could go personally into a person's individual dreams unless they were a Dream Walker, and only two had ever existed in history.
Things would be just fine.
* * * * *
He could hear her calling his name, begging him to help. Trying to shove her voice out of his brain, certain he was dreaming, Chance rolled over in his bed and knocked the alarm clock off the nightstand with his pillow. It promptly went off. He fell half out of the bed with a particularly vicious curse as he grabbed for the offending item to throw it against the wall where it gave a last pitiful ring and fell silent.
He sat up and scrubbed both hands over his face. He was an absolute fool for letting himself be haunted by a dark-haired warrior that he should never have noticed in that way. She should have been more like a niece to him because Rocky and Shana were very dear to him and had always treated him like family, but there was nothing at all familial about the way Chance felt for Leslie Ann.
He morosely went into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. His sleepless reflection greeted him in the mirror, and he blew out a hard breath. He had always been honest with himself, yet admitting that he wanted Leslie like hell on fire did not settle well. When had it happened? How had she gotten so deep under his skin?
He had first met her when she was eleven years old. She had been a beautiful child with a smart mind and even smarter mouth. She had looked at him with hero worship in her large eyes, and he had been violently possessive and protective of her. He had dismissed it as a byproduct of the fact that she had been Rocky and Shana's child, and therefore was his future princess, and he was always intense about the people he let himself care for. Then again . . . he still wasn't sure letting had been involved with her.
Then, a month ago, he had met her again as an adult. She had been fully grown, fully matured, and an unstoppable force of energy and power. She had blindsided him. Her beauty had taken his breath, and her blend of sensitivity and sass clenched at his heart. She was of the Dark, yet she possessed endearing Light traits. She could have been Gray, too, if Destiny had chosen to go that route. Perhaps that was why she had the twin she did. They had always said that it would take someone special to be Leslie's soul mates because of the Light speckles inside her otherwise Dark core.
He had fought to ignore his desire for her, no matter how much more powerful it became with every passing day. He had done his best to not see her as the woman she was and had struggled to keep thinking of her as a child. His intentions had gone out the window on All Hallows'. He had spotted a vibrant and sultry woman at the festival, and he had almost been felled by the punch of greedy desire. Even before he could recognize a sort of strange feeling of cosmic adultery—he had felt as if wanting another woman was cheating on Leslie—his instincts had kicked his eyes and he had realized who he was seeing.
He had not wanted to be right. He had wanted to be cosmically cheating. He had grabbed her arm to prove himself wrong, and instead he had found his own personal move used against him with an expertise that had floored him. He had always thought to teach her someday, and evidence that he had was disorienting. He had countered to keep hold of her and he had ended up with a sudden armful of pissed off Cultivator.
How well she fit in his arms! His shoulder was perfectly placed for her to rest her head when she felt weary, and her body seemed designed to mold to the planes of his. He had never realized he liked the feel of muscle and curve together until he had held her. For all of his life, he had gone on blithely without lust or desire in his life. He had never been moved in the Royal Era, and then he had been in limbo for five thousand years. He had thought that perhaps he just had no capacity for desire at all, but maybe he had just needed an emotional attachment before he could feel it. Leslie had brought him out of his sexual limbo with shocking ease and now threatened to change his life for all time.
He cursed and curled his hands into fists. He didn't need this. He didn't want this. Romance was not something in his future. As if he would ever be deserving of being the Caretaker to any Dual Cultivator, let alone the High Princess of Protea!
The disturbing sensation came anew that she was calling his name. His heart beat dully with dread and there was a sharp stabbing feeling in his soul. He cursed again and stalked over to where his PCA sat. He would call the communal line at the house where her generation lived right now. If they answered, he could hang up; no one would answer if there happened to be trouble.
A fist pounded on the door just as he picked up his PCA. He put it down again and walked over to the door. Dread coiled in his stomach as he sensed a familiar power outside. He opened the door and the dread became icy fear as he found Tasia on the porch. Her arms held a deeply unconscious Leslie whose breathing was so shallow it could barely be heard. That she could carry her princess was no surprise; all twin souls to High Rulers had whatever strength was needed to bodily remove their twin from danger as necessary. Hence why all twins stood at least an inch or two taller. "I need you," she said, her mystical voice clipped.
He stepped back to let her in and then shut the door behind her. Desperate to keep his fear hidden, he asked mildly, "Mind letting me get dressed first?"
She put Leslie down on the couch and then flicked a glance at him. He wore only sweatpants. They made a matching set since she only had on her sweats and a camisole. She had barely remembered to grab her shoes before bringing her princess to him. "Big bloody deal. Ask me if I care if you're naked at high noon."
"Your Vericity heritage is not far under the surface," he told her politely.
"As it was only my grandmother's move to Protea City that made me not a Vericity native, no surprise." Her eyes narrowed. "You heard her calling. I know you did. I can hear the echoes inside your mind."
He leaned against the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room and crossed his arms. "I'd appreciate you staying out of my mind."
Her caramel eyes went solidly gray as her temper flared. "Do me a favor," she bit out, "and don't play the Emotionless Game with a master empath. I played that game, too, for too many years. It does nothing except cut your soul and make you forget how to feel. We two . . . we're a lot alike, Chance. We both feel so damn deeply that it scares us. Perhaps that's why Destiny chose us both for Leslie; Goddess knows she needs to be loved more than most any other creature." Her power rose hotly and made the ground shake as she saw him open his mouth. "Don't you bloody dare say a single word, Rubeo Chance, or I will turn you into a toad!"
His fear turned to terror. She had a nearly unflappable control and yet it had clearly broken now. It was the hardest thing he had ever done, but he asked slowly, "How can I help? And where are the others?"
"Asleep," she said succinctly. She knelt next to Leslie again and reached out to carefully brush her hair out of her face. "Alloran has an affinity for both magic and majik because of his bloodline, and he's somehow found a way to utilize them without having a Seed or being a firstborn. He put everyone in the house to sleep so that he could get to Leslie in her dreams. How ironic is it that one person he could not touch is the one person who is an insomniac? The only thing that can render me to a sleeping state is the fragrance of the black poppy of Aria, be it from my husband's arms holding me or from my son's presence inside my womb. So, suffice to say, not even a sleep spell from Siobhan will ever work on me. I actually tried calling the Elders; they're out too. It's like the whole city is asleep but you and I."
"Why wasn't I affected?" He looked at Leslie's pale face and felt the fear churn inside. He didn't like that feeling any more than the desire. In fact, he liked it far less.
"Because your hard head is rather resistant to compulsion abilities, and because Leslie's cries inside your mind have touched your soul and triggered your need to Care and protect and defend." She looked up at him with eyes that had turned to chocolate in the dim lamplight. "Even Haeth and Striker were affected, Chance. The only way to fix things is to wake Leslie up by defeating the monster in her dreams. You have to be the one to do. I can't do it. I have to send you and remain on the outside for your own safety."
His head jerked up. "You can do that?"
"I am the High Priestess of Protea. By nature of Protea being connected to the Ephemeral Plane, to where Rulers of Protea are Rulers of the Plane, I am therefore the High Priestess of the Plane. Liena . . . Jean . . . I . . . we indirectly support the Plane by supporting Protea, but we directly support the Plane as well because of the majik we pour into it. My entire Faith does, but me more than most. In return for that dedicated service, we are given the ability to be Dream Walkers." She inclined her head slightly. "I'm sure you remember Jean entering into Shana's dreams once. When I read of it in her journal, I knew I too would possess that gift. I just never thought I'd need it for Leslie."
He hesitated and then called himself a fool and walked over to gently touch Leslie's forehead. She was burning up so hotly it was a wonder that Tasia hadn't scalded her hands carrying her there. His eyes narrowed. He caught Tasia's wrist and turned her hand around so that he could see. Sure enough, there were blisters forming across her palms in places and in others her skin looked raw and bloody. "You idiot," he told her sharply.
"It will heal. I just don't have the time to spare taking care of it right now." She yanked her wrist away and held his eyes. "Will you continue to be a coward and run away from someone begging for your help, or will you stand and fight, even if you placate yourself by saying it's because she's your queen and king's daughter?"
Put like that, he had no choice. And as he called out his sword from where he carried it in his magic, he knew he didn't want one. He had to do something. "Alright." He returned and knelt next to Tasia. "What do I do?"
"Think of Leslie and only of her." She closed her eyes and a pulsing hum of power rose around her. A ring of blue-white majik flames cast around all three of them.
He felt his skin tingle at the sensation of her arcanistry. He had known Liena and Jean, and he had seen both cast, but he had never actually been the recipient of a witch's spell let alone one from a sorceress. He closed his eyes and focused on Leslie and only of her. He thought of a child who had loved leaping onto his back and making him carry her. He thought of a woman who had looked at him with fire in her eyes as she wrapped a feather boa around his neck. And he thought of a voice calling out to him to be her hero when she could not be her own.
A door slammed shut somewhere with such force his eyes shot open. Shock took his breath for a moment. He was no longer in his apartment. He didn't know where he was, but it poured rain with unusual viciousness. It felt bitterly cold, and he began to wish he had put on a shirt after all. He straightened from his crouched position and looked around slowly. He had to be in Leslie's dreams, but this was not what he had been expecting. The dismal cityscape looked more like a nightmare.
He ran down the nearest street and tried a few doors. All were locked. No one was home even though there were lights on. As he turned around again, he saw a palace in the distance and realized this had to be the Protea Kingdom of the future. What he couldn't figure out was why everything was so dead and still. This did not look like the future he had expected the two High Queens to create.
The sound of battling caught his attention. He looked around quickly and then back at the castle to see what looked like flare-ups of different magical spells from the various Defenders. It must have been a fight against evil after the foundation of the kingdom. He had heard Storm mention that the future had become idyllic and evil had diminished, but that did not mean it had gone away entirely.
This had to be a memory belonging to Leslie, all recent events considered. It was clearly not a pleasant one. He jogged down the streets with his sword in his hand, and he nearly passed her entirely because she blended into the dark scenery. He stopped and turned back, and as he drew closer, he could see her clearer. His heart twisted in his chest. There were two Leslies present. One was the woman he knew, and the other was a very small child he instinctively recognized.
The older had been drenched from the rain. Her hair had fallen from its usual pigtails and hung lifelessly around her body. Her arms were wrapped around her waist, and as he looked at her face, he realized that her cheeks were streaked from tears as much as from rain. The pink of her eyes had turned to black in her pain. No white flecks to be seen, as was normal of her speckled core when she became emotional.
The younger LeAnn looked no more than three or four as she run through the streets. She was soaked, muddy, and crying. It broke his heart. He stepped up next to Leslie and sought something to say. "Leslie," he finally said quietly.
"I did something stupid," she said just as quietly. "I got scared when the fight started and didn't stay in the palace. I went running outside. I got lost. I spent two days running around the city, not knowing where to go. Mom finally found me, and the enemy found us both. She did not have her Mask. Of course she didn't. She still fought and protected us both, but she took a lot more damage than normal without armor. The storm came on so unexpectedly out of nowhere, and she used it to escape with me. She tore a strip off my hide for leaving the palace, and I had earned it. I hate this memory!" She looked away sharply. "I almost got Mom killed!"
"Leslie!" He dropped his sword to catch her shoulders in his hands, and he gave her a quick shake. "Stop it! You were just a baby; you didn't know better!"
She looked up at him for a moment and then nearly leapt into his arms. She burrowed against his shoulder and clung on with all of her strength. "I'm so scared to be here. I want to wake up. I can't wake up," she whispered. "I kept calling for you. I knew you would help me, but you ignored me. You're here. You're real, aren't you? I didn't dream you. Don't let go!"
It was always a daunting thing to be reminded that a Defender, for all of their strength and bravery, could be just as fragile, more than even Rulers. They very reason they had and needed extra-special Caretakers was to hold their hearts and souls together when evil or their own experiences tried to break them down.
He hesitated for a moment and then his arms moved stiffly and he held her too, protecting her from the rain. "I'm real," he promised softly. "I won't let go." She looked up at him, and he found himself compelled to wipe the tears from her eyes. He let his hand rest on her cheek. "Damn it," he murmured. "How the hell did I end up in this position?"
Her eyes closed on a helpless well of pain. So this was how her twin had felt knowing that her soul mate might never be hers. It hurt. It hurt worse than anything in existence. She was beginning to think that he would never be capable of opening his eyes to what they could have. "How did you know I was here?" she asked quietly. "And why did you bother?"
His lashes flinched slightly at the thought that she did not trust him to be her protector any longer. "I heard you calling, and Tasia came to me with you." He took a long breath. Honesty. She deserved it. "I wasn't going to help, Leslie Ann. I was going to stay out of things." He caught her face with a hand before she could turn away. Her eyes opened and looked ripe with grief and pain. "I was going to," he repeated roughly, "but I just couldn't. What have you done to me? Why are you so terribly important to me?"
Hope lit her eyes from within. Maybe his blindness could be erased. Maybe the toehold of Light inside his otherwise Dark core that made him a Dark Shadow could be enough to help him see what was so obvious to everyone else. Well, she had no issues spelling it out for him. She reached up to cup his cheek, but a roar of thunder drowned out her words. A flare of brilliant emotion lit his blue eyes as if he had heard her anyway. Wonder, desire, and something so much hotter that might just be love turned his eyes incandescent. A surge of hungry emotion rose, and she went up on her toes with the intent of kissing him as she had craved for so long.
Their lips were a breath apart when she sensed danger to her Caretaker. She gave him a shove without hesitation and sent him stumbling back several steps just as a disgusting and mutated Gensome loomed up out of the gloomy alley and sent an attack winging toward them. The blast struck her in the center of her chest and pushed her Life Orb out through the back. The gemstone shined with enough radiance that it lit up the entire area with a black glow, yet again it resembled her cousin's more than her twin's. Something truly special delineated the sorceress from the witches.
Chance stared in shock at the scene for just a moment before sheer rage surged through his heart and soul and tore out the full force of his power. His eyes turned black, and so did his sword as he picked it up. It was nearly impossible to provoke Rubeo Chance into a fury where his eyes turned color, let alone take him to the point where his blade turned black as well with his power of Shadow. It had happened only one time before in his very long life: the Realm War. Danger to Leslie that had brought it forth then, too.
He leapt toward the Gensome with a roar of fury and slashed at it with his sword. It scrambled back from the Life Orb it had been about to grab and spent the next several moments dodging the furious strikes from the enraged Captain. He had grumbled over the arbitrary promotion, but there could be no arguing he had more than enough skill to head the future Royal Knights.
He could also multitask with great efficiency; the entire time he kept the Gensome at bay, he kept an eye on Leslie. She knelt on the ground with her Life Orb clasped between her hands. He wanted to tell her something that would help her, but he couldn't think of anything he could possibly say. It finally dawned as he remembered what Diaz had said about Rhya's evolution. Memories, and a fear of them. That had to be what held up Leslie now. He hit the Gensome hard enough to send it flying and then moved quickly back to Leslie's side. "Leslie Ann."
"Chance . . . ?" She looked up at him with glazed eyes that tried to bring his features into focus without much success. "It won't come back."
"Listen to me," he urged. He took her shoulders in his hands. "This happened to Rhya, right? And Tasia as well I'm sure. Their fear of their memories kept them from being stronger. You have to let go of this memory. You have to!"
She looked down at her Life Orb rather than at the man she loved and tried to find something about the memory that made it worth remembering. There had to be some reason to keep it. The Orb shifted to a new facet to show her something else, and it showed something that had happened after her mother had scolded her.
She had gone to hide in one of the highest towers only used for storage, and she had stayed hunched down behind some boxes. Chance had come up to find her, and yet he had not said a word to her. He had simply sat down at the window and waited. She had sensed no scolding would come and so had crawled out and climbed into his arms. He had wrapped her in his cloak safely and just continued to hold her without a word as they watched the battle outside. She had never felt safer, or happier, than just to be with him . . . and that was the moment when her deepest soul had realized he was her destiny. That he was the only man she would ever love through her heart and soul alike.
Her lips trembled as tears welled. "I want this memory," she whispered. "I want this memory! I don't ever want to forget that moment!"
The Life Orb blazed black around her hands, and Chance moved back quickly. The glow moved to envelop her body in turn, and a blue-white ring of majik flames appeared around her feet. Her Life Orb dissolved back into her body, and her visible Defender Flower Mark began to glow hotter and hotter until it sprouted another protea blossom. She grabbed her Mask from her necklace and grew it to full size. She pulled it on to call her armor, and she could outright feel its gained strength as much as she could now actually feel the magikry in her body.
Rather than call for her normal dual daggers, she instead called up her wand. She had personally made it from a bit of fir and amber, both special and specific to Protea. She looked at it and then looked at Chance. A hint of a dangerous smile touched her lips. "I recommend moving."
He almost wanted to smile as he obligingly moved out of the way and left the Gensome solo in her path. She aimed the wand at the enemy. "Summoning!" She drew the needed invoking pentagram and then hurled it toward the sky. "Immortal Tree!"
The clouds ripped back from the sky as a giant seed fell through the air. It embedded itself in the ground before her and then began to rapidly grow until it had become an immense fir tree. The two largest branches suddenly moved as the entire tree uprooted itself and stretched out branch fingers ominously toward the Gensome. Leslie stepped up beside the tree and smiled as she snapped her fingers.
The tree immediately bull rushed the Gensome, leaving a trail of leaves in its wake. Its large branches extended from it forward and impaled the monster with such force that it picked it up and kept on moving several feet. The tree rooted itself again and its branches consumed the Gensome with such force that it exploded. As sunshine began to pour down through the sky, the tree dissolved into shimmers and faded away entirely.
Chance could only stare at Leslie with a hunger he could not name. A special quirk existed inside all Protean Rulers that did not exist inside any others, even those with a Nature Flower Element: from dawn until the end of the day, their Nature power made their bodies literally exude sunlight around them in a sort of soft halo. From sunset until dawn, they would instead release the sunlight of their Nature element as pure darkness. Shana exuded both at all times, of course, but Chance saw then that Leslie rivaled her for the force of the sun she could absorb. He had already known that she exuded a great deal of darkness as well, running a very close third to her mother and uncle alike. He had honestly never been so aware of the sun before even though it dominated everything about her.
He moved a step closer almost unconsciously and slowly reached out a hand. She turned and he hastily dropped his hand before she noticed. She looked up at him for a long moment and then smiled as she felt her twin's power rising to bring them out. "You won't remember what happened here, but that's okay. I can wait for the future. I don't know if anyone has ever told you this before, but . . . I love you."
Shock filled his eyes but swiftly drowned in a complex tangle of emotions. "What do you mean I won't remember?" He felt the power beginning to pull on him and desperately held a hand out toward her. "Leslie!" he shouted. He felt her hand touch his for just a second and then everything went black.
He found himself opening his eyes and discovered that he was lying on the floor in front of the couch. He groaned and carefully sat up. He still felt a bit chilled and sore from the fight though the actual details of what had happened eluded him for some reason. He saw Leslie stir and looked over as she sat up with a hand pressed to her forehead. She blinked at him and then both looked at Tasia. The priestess still had the circle cast. "Tasi?" Leslie asked. She pushed away the blanket.
"Hold that thought." Tasia's eyes flashed brightly gray and they all heard something shatter in the distance. "There," she said in satisfaction. She dismissed the circle. "That'll teach him to go dream-hopping."
"Is that what happened?" Leslie complained. "Ugh." She rubbed her forehead. "I can't really remember anything. I'd swear Chance yelled at me, and I think I had to revisit a memory from an attack that happened during my childhood, but other than powering up and smiting a dumb monster, I can't recall exactly what went on." She scowled at the living room. "Why are we here?"
His own memories equally fuzzy, Chance was left to struggle with the knowledge that something important had happened that he could not remember. He got to his feet and said curtly, "Because I was the only other person not asleep besides your bodyguard. Now if you will both get out of my apartment, I'll try and get some sleep of my own. Good night."
Tasia and Leslie watched him walk into his room and then winced wryly as the door slammed behind him. They gathered the blanket and walked out of the apartment together, and Tasia used majik to lock it from the outside. The older Cultivator studied her twin for long moments and then murmured, "Interesting bit of fibbing, Leslie Ann. He might not remember because he lacks the capacity to remember dreams, but you sure as hell don't have that problem." She herself was privy to everything that had happened because of the way she had held the door open.
"I don't mind if he doesn't remember," Leslie answered calmly. "I saw what I needed to see. Not just that he assuredly has noticed me as an adult, but the particular buttons I will need to push in the future in order to get what I want. He's just doing much what Rodi did, and, despite his Shadow, leaning more to the Dark than not. Probably from being Dark Shadow."
"However, you are not Shadow, and the Light speckles in your soul act like anchors all but preventing you from being blind."
"Indeed!" She grinned. "I think I'll wait until a year or so after we get home. Many of our friends will be getting married or planning their weddings by then. That'll be the time most when people expect me to choose a suitor and make plans of my own." She wiped away a mock tear. "After years of pining, hoping the one I want would put himself onto my list, I will finally decide to take the initiative and court him instead. I will romance him with picnics and music and kisses beneath sunlit trees until he is as helpless in my hands as I am in his." Humor lit her eyes. "And if that doesn't work, I'll just seduce him and force him to get engaged to me anyway."
For the Elder Generation, Asheria and Veronica had held the distinction of using that particular law as a weapon, and Robert had nearly joined their ranks by being willing to use it against Shanae. Leslie was very much her parents' child in many ways, and stood ready to continue tradition as needed.
Tasia started laughing. "At least we won't be bored in a year!"
©Stacy J. Garrett. Do not reprint or redistribute without permission.
