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  “Weird silver people?” Harrison interjected.

  “The Balance.” Grandma sounded awestruck. Tash swung her head around to stare, startled by her grandmother’s pale face and wide eyes. Grandma stood from the table, her whole body trembling, her head lowered. “The Shadow Walkers are here. They’re at your house.”

  Harrison looked cold and frightening. “You’ve caused problems, Jean Dancer.”

  Grandma—outspoken, bold Grandma—said nothing, but kept her head bowed. Tasha shivered and moved closer to her mother.

  Harrison turned, his gaze skimming over Tasha to rest on her mother. His expression didn’t change, but his face softened somehow. “I have to go. I’ll return before nightfall.”

  Mom sucked in her breath. “Harry…?” His name was a question.

  “Later.” Harrison blinked out of the kitchen, which was both scary and seriously cool.

  An odd, heavy silence filled the room. As usual when the three of them were together, silence didn’t last long. Jean spoke first. “Tell me you didn’t sleep with him.”

  “Mom!” Her mother didn’t sound as outraged as Tasha would have expected. “Forget about sex, and tell me what the hell is going on.”

  “Do you know who that man is?” Jean persisted.

  “Sort of.” Mom shrugged. “He says he’s one of the Penumbrae and that we’re Sun Dancers.” Her mother shot Grandma a look. “I’m expecting you to explain.”

  “He’s not just any Penumbra, Julie. He’s the Penumbra, the Balance. He’s above the very law that he enforces. He holds power over all in the Triad—Shadow Walkers, Sun Dancers and Penumbrae alike. I don’t want you involved in any of this. You can’t sleep with him.”

  “Will you please stop talking about sex?”

  “Julie, I saw the way he looked at you.”

  A knock sounded on the front door.

  “I’ll get it.” Tasha grabbed the excuse to escape from the kitchen. She didn’t want to hear about her mother and sex. Way more information than a daughter should have to deal with. She trotted through the living room and opened the front door, belatedly wondering who would visit at seven in the morning.

  Silver Man stood on the porch.

  Tasha froze, unable to slam the door shut. He could probably walk through it anyway.

  “Little Dancer.” The frown on his face smoothed. “We must speak.” He glanced over her shoulder toward the voices in the kitchen. “Privately.”

  “I don’t think so.” He was a Shadow Walker. Whatever that was.

  He pointed toward the morning sky. The moon glowed feebly in the growing light, a thin crescent. “Sun rise is in about five minutes,” he said, as if that should reassure her.

  “‘The nearer the dawn, the darker the night.’” The words popped out of nowhere. Great. First Dickens and now this. Way to show what a major nerd she was. The words she read lived inside her, her lens through which to understand the world when her own experience wasn’t enough. She’d never actually quoted those words out loud, though. Social suicide was not her thing.

  “Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.” Silver Man stepped inside the house, looking delighted. He started to say something, then shook his head and blinked his incredibly long lashes. “Marguerite is with Le Bilan, then she will rest. We can talk without interruption.”

  When Tasha frowned, he smiled an apology. “The Balance, your neighbor, Harrison Chevalier.”

  Tash was too tired to ask who Marguerite was, why she needed to rest, or why she would want to interrupt them. “What do you want to talk to me about?”

  “An ancient prophecy that I believe impacts us both.” His voice lowered and deepened.

  Tasha sighed, unmoved. Maybe it was lack of sleep or too many traumas in a twenty-four hour period. “You must be related to the Drama Queen.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Nothing.” Tasha held out her hand, determined to act as normal as possible. “Hello, I’m Natasha Morgen.”

  His hand felt cool and firm as it grasped hers. “Die Morgenrote,” he murmured in German, releasing her hand to touch her her fiery hair. “The flush of dawn.”

  She pulled back, aware that dawn was probably flushing her cheeks as well. “How pretty. Much nicer than being called Red. You’re a poet?”

  “I’m French,” he said, as if that was the same thing. “My name is Luc Deschamps.” His eyes met hers, his expression both serious and determined. “The Drama Queen, Marguerite, is my sister. We must speak.”

  Chapter Five

  “Who are you and why do you need to talk to my daughter?” Julie hurried into the living room, hearing a voice at the door that she didn’t recognize.

  Standing way too close to Tash was a ringer for one of Tolkien’s elves, movie version. Slender and long limbed, he stood over six feet tall, with white, almost silver, hair just touching his collar. He had high cheekbones, a high forehead and wide-set eyes, all arranged above a strong chin that saved his features from being delicate. Bright blue eyes watched her with curiosity and a trace of wariness.

  Julie grabbed Tash’s arm and dragged her toward the middle of the room. Legolas made her nervous.

  “You are she.”

  He had a French accent. For Tash, a French accent beat a British accent, hands down. Of course, accent aside, what he had just said made no sense, something Julie was getting all too used to, so she merely waited.

  The man studied her, taking his time before he spoke again. “You are the one the Balance hopes will break Marguerite’s spell.”

  “Did Harry take out an ad in the paper or something? Does everyone know he wants to have sex with me?”

  “Mom!” Tash’s voice was faint.

  Julie sent her an apologetic smile and focused on the man. “Who are you?”

  “He’s Lucien Deschamps, a Shadow Walker,” Jean, suddenly a font of information, announced from behind her. “A very powerful Shadow Walker.”

  The man slowly dipped his head in acknowledgement. “And you are Jean Dancer. Many searched for you after the Rift.”

  “Many must not have looked in the Chicago phone book,” her mother retorted.

  The man frowned, as if such a mundane search tool hadn’t occurred to him. Many hadn’t tried Google either, or they’d have found PrewashedJean.com. The full title of her mom’s webpage was Pre-washed Jean: Tips from a well-worn and comfortable woman. The site got an amazing number of hits. Apparently a crystal ball, or whatever the voodoo of choice was for Triad members, bypassed modern technology.

  “You left the Triad.”

  His phrase wasn’t accusatory, but her mom reacted as if it were. “And my responsibilities? Is that what you’re implying? Are you telling me Shadow Walker assassins weren’t gunning for me?”

  “The war is long over. We need to restructure. We need all of our powerful families working together.” The Walker said the words gently, but they had the effect of a match on gunpowder.

  “How dare you!” Jean wasn’t very big, but she could be scary when she lost her temper. She marched up to the Walker and poked a finger in his chest. He took a step backward. “Go. Get out of this house.”

  “Grandma!” Tasha looked apologetically at the man. “It’s been a confusing twenty-four hours.”

  He nodded. “These are confusing times for us all.” He hesitated. “Now is not a good time to talk.”

  Bright boy. Julie frowned at the look that passed between Tasha and Lucien. The Walker turned and walked out the door.

  “Good riddance!” Jean slammed the front door shut after him.

  “What did he want, Tasha?” Julie asked.

  Tasha shook her head. “I’m not sure.”

  “I don’t trust him,” Julie said. “Until we can figure out this new world we’ve been thrust into, you need to be very careful.”

  “I don’t think he wants to hurt us.” Sensible, careful Tasha had a small smile on her face. Uh oh.

  “Get that look off your face, Natasha.” Jean folded her
arms across her chest. “He’s the bad guy.”

  “Is he?” Tasha lifted her chin. “You and I often see things differently, Grandma.”

  “Your view is fogged by hormones, young lady,” Jean snapped.

  “Well, that wouldn’t be a problem for you, would it?”

  A nasty temper went along with Tasha’s red hair. Julie stepped between the two. “Tasha, you’re being disrespectful to your grandmother. Apologize now.”

  Her temper might be nasty, but it burned out quickly. Tasha ran to Jean and enfolded her in her arms. “I’m sorry, Gram. My mouth got away from me again.”

  “You didn’t say anything that’s not true.” Jean’s hand came up and touched Tash’s hair. “That Walker family is bad business, baby. Stay away from him. His people killed your great-grandmother.”

  “What?” Tasha and Julie gasped the word out together.

  “Your mother was murdered?” Julie had never heard this before.

  “Kidnapped by a Shadow Walker and killed in cold blood. That’s what started the civil war that blew the Triad apart.”

  “What happened?” Tasha perched on the arm of the couch, leaning forward with interest.

  “They stole her right out of her bed, in the middle of the night, while we all slept. My father went after her and found her dead the next morning. Something in him broke and he went a little mad. He gathered Dancers from around the world and waged war on the Walkers. Hundreds of Walkers and Dancers died in one terrible week, including my father. Only the fact that the rest of the world was involved in a war as well saved us from discovery. After it was over, I moved away from New York. I cut all my ties with old friends and family. I wanted nothing to do with the Triad or what was left of it.”

  “Wow,” Tasha breathed.

  “Why haven’t you told me this before?” Julie spoke through gritted teeth. How could her mother have kept this very important part of their history hidden?

  “I don’t want you involved in the Triad. Either of you.”

  “I don’t know if we have a choice, Mom. It looks like the Triad has become involved with us.”

  “Ignore them. They’ll go away.”

  Julie and Tasha exchanged a skeptical look. “Harry isn’t easily ignored,” Julie finally said.

  “Drama Queen and Luc aren’t either,” Tasha added.

  “And what about these powers I suddenly have? Shouldn’t I use them for good, or something?” With great power comes great responsibility—or whatever it was Spiderman had said.

  “No, no, no. Just forget about them.”

  Easier said than done, especially when she had no idea what her powers were. A terrible thought occurred to her. “What about Tasha? Is she going to have to worry that every time she kisses a guy, she may blow up?”

  “A kiss doesn’t usually trigger a release of powers. Your case is not normal, Julie.” Her mother gave her a look that made her feel guilty.

  “What is normal?” Tasha asked.

  “Triad children come into their full powers at puberty. Before that, they have a very limited ability to transform energy. Most kids can light a candle or give another child a small shock, that sort of thing. During puberty, however, that changes and Triad children are sent to boarding school where they are taught how to control and use the energy they gradually become able to absorb.”

  Tasha looked thoughtful. “And that’s where they learn how to fight demons in groups of three?”

  Fight demons? Groups of three? What was Tasha talking about?

  “Those are advanced skills, not taught until what would be late high school here.” Her mother nodded.

  Julie didn’t even know where to start asking questions. “Tasha and I didn’t come into power at puberty. Why not?”

  “You’re of mixed heritage. When it didn’t happen, I just assumed you didn’t have the ability.”

  “So now that we know I do and we know that I’m not normal,” Julie slanted her mother a look, “we don’t know what to expect for Tasha.”

  “Right. My advice is that she stay away from men.” Jean turned to Tasha. “There are really some very lovely lesbians, dear. I don’t suppose you’d consider coming out of the closet?”

  Tasha turned to Julie. “Grandma’s driving me crazy.”

  “Tasha.” Julie gave her daughter a severe look and turned to her mother. “Mom. You’re driving me crazy. Gay people aren’t gay just because it’s convenient for them. You know that.”

  “Not all gay people are alike. Sexuality exists on a continuum. Some people are born gay, and some choose the gay lifestyle. It’s not fair to say you can’t be gay just because you don’t have the right genetic make-up. That kind of closed-mindedness isn’t like you, dear.”

  “I’m very closed-minded at the moment.” Julie sat down. “In fact, my brain is in lockdown. I officially have information overload. And I haven’t even asked you about demon fighting.” When her mother started to speak, she held up a hand. “Hold that explanation until later. I have to go to work, and I don’t think I can process anything more at the moment anyway.”

  “Good.” Jean patted her shoulder. “Go to work, and forget all about this.”

  Julie straightened. “Mom, life has changed.” She sighed. What an understatement. “I can’t ignore Harrison.”

  “Of course you can ignore Harrison. You ignored me through most of your teens. You ignored the fact that your husband would rather sleep next to a dusty hole in the ground than in your bed for most of your marriage. You’re very good at ignoring things.”

  Julie tried to stir up self-righteous anger, but her mother was right. She didn’t precisely ignore things, but she focused on what she wanted to think about and didn’t focus on the rest. Julie rubbed her head. “Can you stay for a few days?” Her mother nodded. “We’ll talk at dinner then.”

  “I’ll cook,” Jean offered.

  “Will you drop me off at my dorm, Mom?” Tasha looked lost, like she didn’t know what she should do next.

  “Of course, honey.” Julie put an arm around her shoulders. “Do you want to have dinner with us tonight? We have a lot to discuss.”

  Tash nodded. “I’ll meet you at your office at six.” She looked over at Jean. “Grandma, promise you won’t make anything with tofu, okay?”

  Jean nodded, not even arguing like she usually would. “You know I love you both with my whole heart. I won’t lose you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Her indomitable mother looked suddenly vulnerable. A strong wave of love pushed aside Julie’s irritation and anger at the dangerous secrets her mother had kept. This woman had lost both her parents in violence and was doing the best she could to keep her child and grandchild safe.

  Julie reached her at the same time Tasha did. The three of them hugged, forming a triangle of strength and support.

  “There’s something different about you.” Joe Kradeno, one of her coworkers, stood in her office doorway holding a file folder. “Are you all right?”

  Julie sighed and rested both elbows on her desk, hands cupping her cheeks. She was tempted to tell him that she’d found a man she resonated with, come into some super powers and discovered that weird beings existed in the world. But she didn’t have time to be evaluated by every psychiatrist in the building. “I’m just tired. Rough night.”

  “I can smooth things out for you.” His voice lowered to what he probably thought was a sexy drawl.

  “The results from the new study look that good?” Julie sat up straight and smiled, despite herself.

  Joe stepped into the office and frowned at her apparent obliviousness to his flirting. He tossed the folder on the desk in front of her. “We don’t have enough data to run the stats yet. The interviewers are still in the field.”

  “What’s this, then?” Julie picked up the folder and opened it. Two tickets fluttered to her desk along with a piece of paper. She picked up the paper. It was an advertisement for a marathon of Jane Austen movies at the local theater. Joe
knew how to tempt her.

  He’d been trying to get her to go out on a date since he’d joined the lab a year ago. He wouldn’t succeed. Short and wiry, with a full head of gray hair, he had the slim build of a distance runner. Aside from the big-mistake-to date-a-colleague thing and the fact that she didn’t want to get involved with anyone at this point in her life, she could never date a man who weighed less than she did.

  Which might severely limit her options if she ever did decide to date. Then again, she could stretch out on the couch, munching buttered popcorn for a long time before she outweighed Harry.

  “Come to the movies with me, Julie.”

  Julie brought her focus back to the man watching her. “I don’t date people I work with. I’ve told you that,” she said gently.

  “I’ll quit.”

  She grinned and picked up the tickets and advertisement, putting them back in the folder. “Have fun at the show. And thank you for inviting me.” She held out the folder until he took it.

  “I won’t give up, Julie.”

  “Which makes me worry about you, Joe. Go find somebody exciting. I’m a middle-aged woman enjoying a quiet life.”

  “Hey, I like the quiet life, too. After a glass of warm milk, I’m in bed by nine o’clock most nights. Maybe you could join me sometime.”

  She laughed. “I’m serious. I’ve raised a good kid and crafted a decent career. All I want is to relax during my off time. I’m not looking to start anything new.”

  “Want to go for a double mocha latte and see if a spurt of caffeine won’t oil your aging engines?”

  You had to give the guy points for persistence. She really was tired, coffee really would help, and going to the cafeteria with a colleague wasn’t even close to a date. But most important of all, Joe was so blessedly normal. No fireworks or violins to distract her. No talk of curses and strange powers.

  “Coffee sounds great.” She stood and walked around her desk. The office was small, and Joe just had to reach out a hand to touch the smudges beneath her eyes.

  “Is everything okay, Julie?”

  “No. Everything is pretty much shot to hell, Joe.”

  When she didn’t elaborate, he draped a supportive arm around her shoulders and guided her out the door. She paused, surprised by the sudden rumble of thunder that reverberated against the windows lining one wall of the hallway. “Wasn’t it sunny out two minutes ago?”