Rafe laughed and lines crinkled at the corners of his blue eyes.
Amber poured some red wine into a glass and lifted it. A ray of sun slanted through it, and it appeared as if she held a glowing jewel. Smiling, she tilted the rim toward Jenni. “And we’re close here, and want to support each other however we might.”
Kiri leaned forward and low words tumbled from her. “I want that, too.” She wetted her lips. “Jenni’s my hero. I’ve applied for a job at Eight Corp. I’d love to work with her.”
Rafe’s and Amber’s gazes zeroed in on her, one shrewd, the other considering. Kiri flushed. Did she sound like a stalker? She hoped not.
Amber dabbed some bruschetta in flavored oil. “Well, you know what you’re doing in Fairies and Dragons for sure,” she said.
“Thanks.” Kiri grimaced. “Eight Corp said on its website that they’ll be making the decision soon.” She cleared her throat. “Did you see a guy walking around the Circle yesterday evening? He said he was from Eight Corp human resources. He was a little...” Fascinating. “...odd. Might have been practicing for Halloween.” Or her vision had been off.
Rafe’s smile was brilliant. “Kiri, we’re all a little odd here in the Circle.” He pointed his bread at her. “Including you, and thank God for it.” His lips quirked up, then he popped the bread in his mouth.
Kiri smiled. She didn’t mind being different, especially in a way that meshed well with Mystic Circle people.
“We didn’t see anyone,” Amber said. “But bad guys can’t get in the Circle. It stops them.”
“What!” Kiri’d never heard of anything like that in her life.
They nodded in unison. “True.”
“Oh.” Hmm. Nope, didn’t believe that.
“Great party,” Jenni said as she walked up, holding a glass mug of frothy beer and grinning. “Glad that you started this tradition, Amber.”
“I am, too,” Rafe said. “Ancient tradition.” He winked at Kiri. “Seven months, a party a month.”
Kiri tried to keep upbeat. “Sounds fine to me.”
“We’ll move the gatherings inside when the winter comes,” Amber said. She and Rafe rose and cleared their cheerfully colored paper plates and plastic utensils. “Later, Kiri.”
“Sure. See you later.” She wondered if there really would be a later. How humiliating that she’d spilled her guts to near strangers who might repeat her words to Jenni or Aric. What if she didn’t get the job? Would she still feel okay living in Mystic Circle? Hell!
Jenni slid onto the wooden bench opposite. She glanced around the backyard at the clusters of people talking and laughing. “Just great to have neighborhood get-togethers.”
Then she turned her head to meet Kiri’s gaze. “We’ve discussed you quite a lot at Eight Corp. Aric works there, too.”
Here it came.
Chapter 3
KIRI FROZE.
Something in Jenni’s eyes, a downward curve of the corner of her lips made Kiri’s stomach clench. She wasn’t going to get the job.
The sun went behind clouds—wasn’t it supposed to be sunny all day?—drying her sweat.
She was glad she was sitting down and braced herself, forced the overwhelming disappointment back down her throat. She hoped she’d kept a pleasant smile on her face.
Jenni continued, “I—we—were very impressed with your work on the prospective story arcs for Pegasus Valley....”
Kiri said it for her. “But?”
Jenni gestured with her mug of beer. “However, our preliminary planning took the characters and story lines in a totally different direction.”
“Oh.”
Jenni smiled and it hurt Kiri. “Now for the but. We have a very new, very exclusive game we are developing we’d like your help on.”
Kiri stared. “What?”
“You’ll have to interview with Eight Corp, and take a look at the preliminary sketches and plot arcs. They need to be fleshed out. Also, there is some preliminary game testing.”
What did that mean?
Jenni’s husband, Aric, came up and wrapped a hand over her shoulder. “Enough business talk.” He frowned. “Clouds have rolled in and I don’t like the feel of the wind. Let’s talk with Rafe and Amber.” He inclined his head to Kiri, blinked, then said, “Ah, I mean socialize.”
New game. Exclusive. Preliminary testing. Before Kiri could get even one of the questions swirling in her head to her mouth, Jenni had stood and she and Aric had moved away.
Then he stepped from the shadow of a tree near the front gate and Kiri’s heart began to pound. He moved with casual sophistication through the gathering. She’d been wary of him the night before—all right, she’d been a little scared of the man—doubted his claims that he was an Eight Corp rep. But here he was. He still evoked a buzz of fascination along her nerves.
The man nodded to Aric, inclined his head at Jenni, lifted his hand to the Davails, but Kiri got the idea that he wasn’t local.
Finally, he reached her and he made a half bow that Kiri had only seen in movies and at Ren Faires. Never had one aimed at her in real life. “Lathyr Tricurrent,” he said with an accent she couldn’t place. His hand dipped into his pocket and came out with another blue-green card. He held it to her. She just stared at the pasteboard.
After a few seconds, she took it and tried a tiny experiment. She let go and it fell to the table. The card landed faceup and she saw his name and Eight Corp engraved on it in dark blue.
“I believe Jenni spoke to you about our new project.” Again that fluid accent.
Somehow, as she’d watched him move to her, in that short amount of time, she’d forgotten the first dozen questions she’d wanted to ask. She took a sip of her drink. “Jenni said it was a new game.”
“We are doing preliminary work and hope to market it before the winter holidays.”
“Ah.”
“Stage one is a prelude to the game and mostly developed.” She met his eyes and couldn’t seem to look away. They were deep blue, and his pupils dilated when he looked at her. He liked what he saw? That was nice and she felt heat crawl along her neck and up into her face. So stupid to stare, but she couldn’t stop it.
His eyes were so pretty, blue and misty, and there seemed to be even more of a depth that sucked her down and she heard the rushing of air in her ears and the humidity of the day was pressing against her so she felt droplets on her skin and her breath was caught in her chest and reality seemed to fade and gray fog edged her vision....
* * *
Lathyr glanced aside and Kiri panted, sucking air. Her shirt was sticking to her. So not sophisticated. Could she be any more lame?
“Have some water,” he said. His voice seemed to fade, then amplify in her ears. Ebb, flow.
Get a grip!
“Thanks,” she managed weakly, but she couldn’t seem to reach for the bottle. She looked up to see his long fingers twist off the top and set another plastic bottle of carbonated raspberry water into her curved fingers. Her hand trembled, tightened on the bottle, squirted water.
Damn! Now her cheeks were hot from embarrassment.
“Lathyr,” said Jenni Weavers with a scold in her tone, walking up to them.
“My apologies,” he said.
Kiri managed to