his devious smile.
“Fish?” The waiter lifted his eyebrow. “You want the salmon or the trout?”
“Oh, I want…No, I’ll have the bacon and blue burger with French fries.”
The waiter shook his head and left.
Cassandra held up her hand. “Don’t…How did you know?”
“I know everything there is about you. And no, I’m not a stalker.”
“Then how?”
“We share a mutual friend.”
“We do?”
He lowered his voice. “The Wraith.”
Cassandra’s throat constricted. A dark pit formed in her gut—the burger forgotten. No one knew about the Wraith. Not even Lilly. Not since she made the mistake of telling some kids at her elementary school. She blinked back tears, and forced her face to remain impassive. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “You’re lying.”
She twisted the ring on her finger faster and faster, sending tingles up her arm. “No, I’m not.”
“When you lie, your freckles brighten across your nose.”
She touched her nose. “No, they don’t.”
He laughed. “Yes, they do. You are lying.”
“Eric, I don’t go around seeing wraiths.”
“You deny you see the undead?”
Her childhood flashed in her mind and all the cat calls rang in her ear. She wasn’t walking into the trap of admitting she could see the Wraith or the undead. “Only crazy people see things. I’m not crazy.”
His smile faded and sadness glimmered in his eyes. “People have told you this?”
Cassandra reached for her wine and took a big gulp. She choked and her eyes watered. “No.”
“Ah.” Eric motioned to the waiter. “A bottle of your best Pinot Noir.”
The waiter came with a bottle and showed it to Eric who nodded. Eric swirled the wine in his glass and sipped. “Very good, Troy.”
Troy smiled. “You’re welcome, sir.” He refilled Cassandra’s glass. She twirled the glass stem.
Eric jumped out of his chair, ran to her and rubbed her back. “Are you all right?”
She cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m fine.” Her voice slurred. Great! She needed to keep her wits around her, not be falling down drunk and giving into temptation now sitting across from her.
A waiter arrived with their food. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“No, we’re good,” Eric said as he poured A-1 sauce onto his rare meat.
Cassandra nibbled on a crunchy French fry and took a bite of her black and blue cheeseburger. The combination of juicy meat, blue cheese and applewood bacon melted in her mouth. But at Eric’s triumphant face, she put down the burger and sipped some more wine. Her vision turned fuzzy and her mind clouded. Stay focused.
“You think you’re the only one who sees the supernatural?” he murmured.
“I told you I don’t see anything.” Trying to ignore him, she seized her burger and took a large bite, anxious to get the meal done.
Eric swirled his wine glass. His eyes bore into her. “Wraith.” The simple word was a command.
The warmth around the table vanished. Goosebumps ran up her arm. Uneasiness gripped her. The room grew darker and lights flickered.
Eric smiled. “Good evening, Wraith.”
No, he couldn't see the Wraith. Someone with an icy grip grabbed her shoulder. “Cassandra.”
Choking, Cassandra spat water onto her plate. Tears blurred her vision. The Wraith.
Eric was at her side again, patting her back. He handed her a napkin.
“I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “Just went down the wrong pipe.”
“Cassandra.”
Eric stopped patting her back and returned to his seat.
She slowly turned her head. White bony fingers clutched her. A billowy black robed figure gazed at her with burning red eyes. The hood covered the face. The Wraith leaned closer to Cassandra, and a chilly breeze rushed into her ear. “Come, Cassandra, come. We need you.”
The words and the Wraith faded. Go? Go where? Who needed her? Trembling, Cassandra closed her eyes and put her hand on her thumping heart.
“Fish?” The waiter lifted his eyebrow. “You want the salmon or the trout?”
“Oh, I want…No, I’ll have the bacon and blue burger with French fries.”
The waiter shook his head and left.
Cassandra held up her hand. “Don’t…How did you know?”
“I know everything there is about you. And no, I’m not a stalker.”
“Then how?”
“We share a mutual friend.”
“We do?”
He lowered his voice. “The Wraith.”
Cassandra’s throat constricted. A dark pit formed in her gut—the burger forgotten. No one knew about the Wraith. Not even Lilly. Not since she made the mistake of telling some kids at her elementary school. She blinked back tears, and forced her face to remain impassive. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “You’re lying.”
She twisted the ring on her finger faster and faster, sending tingles up her arm. “No, I’m not.”
“When you lie, your freckles brighten across your nose.”
She touched her nose. “No, they don’t.”
He laughed. “Yes, they do. You are lying.”
“Eric, I don’t go around seeing wraiths.”
“You deny you see the undead?”
Her childhood flashed in her mind and all the cat calls rang in her ear. She wasn’t walking into the trap of admitting she could see the Wraith or the undead. “Only crazy people see things. I’m not crazy.”
His smile faded and sadness glimmered in his eyes. “People have told you this?”
Cassandra reached for her wine and took a big gulp. She choked and her eyes watered. “No.”
“Ah.” Eric motioned to the waiter. “A bottle of your best Pinot Noir.”
The waiter came with a bottle and showed it to Eric who nodded. Eric swirled the wine in his glass and sipped. “Very good, Troy.”
Troy smiled. “You’re welcome, sir.” He refilled Cassandra’s glass. She twirled the glass stem.
Eric jumped out of his chair, ran to her and rubbed her back. “Are you all right?”
She cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m fine.” Her voice slurred. Great! She needed to keep her wits around her, not be falling down drunk and giving into temptation now sitting across from her.
A waiter arrived with their food. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“No, we’re good,” Eric said as he poured A-1 sauce onto his rare meat.
Cassandra nibbled on a crunchy French fry and took a bite of her black and blue cheeseburger. The combination of juicy meat, blue cheese and applewood bacon melted in her mouth. But at Eric’s triumphant face, she put down the burger and sipped some more wine. Her vision turned fuzzy and her mind clouded. Stay focused.
“You think you’re the only one who sees the supernatural?” he murmured.
“I told you I don’t see anything.” Trying to ignore him, she seized her burger and took a large bite, anxious to get the meal done.
Eric swirled his wine glass. His eyes bore into her. “Wraith.” The simple word was a command.
The warmth around the table vanished. Goosebumps ran up her arm. Uneasiness gripped her. The room grew darker and lights flickered.
Eric smiled. “Good evening, Wraith.”
No, he couldn't see the Wraith. Someone with an icy grip grabbed her shoulder. “Cassandra.”
Choking, Cassandra spat water onto her plate. Tears blurred her vision. The Wraith.
Eric was at her side again, patting her back. He handed her a napkin.
“I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “Just went down the wrong pipe.”
“Cassandra.”
Eric stopped patting her back and returned to his seat.
She slowly turned her head. White bony fingers clutched her. A billowy black robed figure gazed at her with burning red eyes. The hood covered the face. The Wraith leaned closer to Cassandra, and a chilly breeze rushed into her ear. “Come, Cassandra, come. We need you.”
The words and the Wraith faded. Go? Go where? Who needed her? Trembling, Cassandra closed her eyes and put her hand on her thumping heart.
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