Alden Glen, Georgia

Scents swirled around Violet. Flowery, spicy, exotic. They wafted from the various booths selling candles, oils, sachets, bathbombs, and assorted dried flowers.

The hum of voices floated through the cavernous room housing the craft fair. She strolled through the rows of booths toward Ty Barnard’s stall. How did the jewelry and crafts sell today? Selling in Alden Glen was new. She hadn’t been back that long.

Home wasn’t home anymore. Everything and everyone seemed strange. Ten years out of town would do that, though. Hopefully, time had healed the wounds. Whether it had or not, it wouldn’t make any difference. She was done hiding in Aster or any other Aelfir city. She would rebuild her life.

The real work remained undone. She hadn’t talked to her family in years. Somehow, she had to reestablish the connection if she could. Did they still believe the lies? She wouldn’t force herself on them, but they were her family. Family was important. After years alone, that lack of connection still burned.

The click of hard-soled boots hitting tile overrode the quiet conversation. She turned. A group of men strode toward the back of the room. Her eyes locked on one man. His black hair gleamed in the overhead lights. Blue eyes blazed from his angular face. Something, maybe pain darkened those eyes, as if the weight of the world pressed down on him.

A gorgeous man, but Alden Glen held so many other men with the almost mystical good looks of the Aelfir. She couldn’t pinpoint what drew her to him. Maybe, it was that look. She had a past that held pain, too. Talking to him wouldn’t hurt.

She followed. The group stopped in front of Ciara Kelly’s purple-covered booth. The woman had a magnificent ability to create things with metal. Violet smiled. It would be wonderful to make a business with her talent, but the passion and drive to create weren’t that strong.

When she caught up to them, they stood to the side out of the way near the stall. Were they waiting for something? Violet hesitated. A gnawing ache tumbled in her gut. She straightened her shoulders. Time to stop pussyfooting around and begin building a life here. She’d chosen to come back. Not everyone would welcome her warmly after so many years away. She wasn’t helping by simply going to work and then home. A little meeting people and being part of the community wouldn’t hurt.

She stepped over to the big man. “Hi, I’m Violet. I wondered if you’d like to go to lunch with me.”

Lunch seemed a friendly option rather than the automatic date implication of dinner. They hadn’t even formally met. No need to put that kind of pressure on him.

“No, I don’t have time.” The man looked at her and then turned away.

Violet blinked. “All right.”

Kind of blunt and unmistakably a rejection. A small pang shot through her, but she shook it off and left. He was one person. Hell, he might not even be staying in town. He had a dangerous, too experienced air about him. Probably here as a Hunter. Those guys sometimes stayed in an area for a little while, but then moved on to the next place they were needed.

She’d find someone else who was interested in a lunch sometime, but not today. At least not a male someone. If she could manage to reach her friend, Mia, she might go out with her. One direct, personal rejection a day from a guy was all she’d take at this point. She was not a glutton for punishment.

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Theron McDonal stared after the black haired woman as she strolled away from him. Tight blue jeans accentuated her curves. A bright green shirt clung to the thrust of her breasts. Her invitation to lunch tempted him, especially if they extended it into dinner. Maybe breakfast the next morning, if he could manage it. But he couldn’t get involved with her. Not when this sickness lurked within. She’d end up getting hurt when the inevitable happened.

“You are so going to regret that.” Ciara stepped out from behind the table.

Before she came back here and began acting as the city’s Forge, Ciara had hunted with them. She was a fierce fighter and it was great to see her again. Hopefully, he could help this town. The end would come for him, probably sooner rather than later. He wouldn’t be able to fight it.

“I can’t get involved with her. Better to make sure she has no misconception that it’s possible.” Theron took a deep breath. A date or a night or two would be too easy and so sweet.

“She didn’t plan to take advantage of your innocent body. She wanted to talk, maybe make you feel welcome. Violet recently came back to town. She knows how it feels to be treated like an outsider here.” Ciara shook her head. “Follow me. We’re going to my workshop. I have someone who’ll watch my stall. We’ll get what you need.”

Theron winced. Maybe he should have talked a little more than that single word. He strolled along behind Ciara. She led them out of the civic center and hopped into a small pickup. They went to their van. His stomach churned. Time to get a new weapon. He clenched his hands. How long could he avoid touching the blade before someone noticed?