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When he arrived at the rental house, everyone was waiting to see him. He didn’t want to talk about it any further. He was disappointed in how things had not worked out for them.

6

The next thing Fiona knew, it was Sunday, and it was already afternoon. She couldn’t believe it!

Rubbing her eyes, she wondered how she had managed to sleep so late. She rolled out of bed and yanked her pajamas off, then slipped into her bra and panties, jeans, and a T-shirt, socks, and shoes. As soon as she had breakfast, er, lunch, she needed to write her social studies paper and do some, ugh, algebra.

Hurrying down the hall, she rubbed her temple, wondering if all that had happened last night had really occurred. The scent of the pungent incense still lingered in the air. Worse, she heard the same voices in the dining room. Tobias and Clarissa?

Groaning, Fiona had wanted to discuss things privately with Regina. That would be hard enough to do alone with her, but she really didn’t want to discuss it with the others around.

Fiona walked into the dining room. Regina raised her brows and proceeded to dish up a plate of spaghetti. “Afternoon, Fiona.” She didn’t sound happy that Fiona had slept so late.

Fiona glanced at Tobias, whose dark eyes consumed her while he leaned back in the chair at the head of the table and folded his arms. His dark hair was still pulled back in a tail, making his face appear even longer, more angled, and thinner if that could be possible. Instead of a turtleneck, he now wore a black satin shirt. It reminded her of her great aunt’s furniture, black and white, with the white being his pale skin. Though living under the often-overcast Oregon skies, she noticed most Oregonians didn’t have tans like Texans did.

Clarissa was the exception with her golden skin, but not so much from tanning, Fiona suspected. Her nationality probably had more to do with it. As beautiful as the night before, Clarissa wore a shocking pink halter-top and matching jeans, which was way too cold for an autumn day. She set a glass of water on the black tablemat in front of Fiona and flashed her usual cheerful smile.

Her dark curls cascaded over her shoulders, down her hips in satiny swirls of thick, to-die-for hair.

“I heard voices last night,” Fiona said, gauging Regina’s reaction. Today, her great aunt was dressed in black denims and wore a sparkly spandex top of black and white swirls.

“Did you?” Tobias spoke, his words dark, accusatory.

Fiona faced him, surprised he would comment and not her great aunt, but his arrogance made her suspect he was used to running things. His brown eyes nearly turned to black, and she realized belatedly he waited for her answer.

“Yes, I did. I’m a very light sleeper. Just about anything will wake me.”

“And you heard?” He sounded like he was running the Inquisition. One wrong word, and Fiona would be history.

“Weird stuff.”

Fiona noticed that Clarissa’s smile had faded, and her dark eyes concentrated so hard on Fiona, it made her feel the girl was trying to determine if she was lying or not.

Her great aunt took a seat opposite Tobias. “Eat and tell us what you think you heard.”

Think? Did that mean the three of them were ready to denounce her ravings?

Clarissa sat down across from Fiona, but none of them were eating. She glanced at the black-tile countertop. Clean.

“We’ve already eaten, Fiona,” Regina said. “What did you hear?”

“Nothing much, really. Do you know I sleepwalk?”

Her great aunt stared at her like she’d sprouted horns and a barbed tail.

Tobias shook his head. “She wasn’t sleepwalking.”

“Who were you talking about?” Fiona speared a meatball and figured if they weren’t buying her sleepwalking story, she might as well start asking questions and put them on the spot instead. “I mean, the dangerous guy. Who is he?”

All three stared at her, and again she really wished she lived with her brother.

“Why were you wandering around in the backyard late last night?” Tobias asked.

Regina must have tattled on her, but it annoyed Fiona that he thought it was any of his business.

Tobias cleared his throat and asked again, “Why were you outside last night?”

“I heard a scraping noise at my window. I wanted to see if there was a shrub rubbing against it.”