Chapter One

Lara Clint took a needed break. Earlier that morning, she’d given two psychic readings and one soul retrieval. Havens Nest, an eclectic boutique of metaphysical stones, oils, and trinkets had been her sanctuary for the past five years. Content with the morning’s sales, she made a cup of mint tea and took a seat behind the counter.

Tourists flooded the area this time of year. November, with the season fall colors, was a great time to visit, except this year. The summer heat hadn’t ebbed. As a result, flowers still bloomed and the monsoon rains surprised many unexpected visitors. Lara wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead.

The door chimes jingled, and a sandy-haired boy slipped inside. He looked about eleven or twelve. His gaze darted every which way, before he allowed the door to slide silently shut. He browsed the shop, and then thumbed through a used bin of comic books located in the reading nook inside the boutique.

Curious about the kid, Lara centered her thoughts, inhaling a deep breath, and tapped into her sensory perception.

Her sixth sense went on high alert. A female’s essence filled her mind’s eye, desperate, frantic. Lara pulled away from the overpowering strength of the spirit energy of the mother. Something about the kid caused Lara to focus her intentions away from the spirit and onto the boy’s psyche.

An echo of loneliness haunted him—his mother—tragic death. Scared.

The woman’s spirit screamed for her help.

Lara reached out to the spirit energy. “Slow down, I can hear you.”

“He’s in danger, save him from the daemon,” the tortured soul spoke in a rasping frantic voice that gasped for air and faded. A brief flash of her human death filled Lara’s mind. She’d been murdered. Lara’s hands went to her own throat, feeling the struggle of the woman’s last moments of life.

A huge cyclone of dark particles swarmed across the street, easily mistaken for a desert dust bunny. No intelligence, just a mass of dark energy.

A shiver slithered along her spine. She’d seen these same energy particles along the riverbed in Oak Creek Canyon. A foreboding omen seeped into her thoughts.

After a time, a voice she couldn’t identify called the name. “Cherie.”

Lara glanced in the direction of the boy.

He thumbed through the comics, unaware of her scrutiny.

Where had the voice come from? Who was Cherie?

A jolting fear knotted inside her. Lara wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead and returned her gaze back to the boy.

He tilted his head and stared at the X-box oneS. His eyes brightened when Lara clicked on the player. “Do you like the video Spider-Man?”

Edge of Time appeared on the screen. “Yes,” His smile warmed her heart. Lara wanted to reach out and fix the dark shadows floating around him, instead she chuckled at his enthusiasm. “Spider-Man is one of my favorite games.”

“Mine too.” He scratched his cheek. “How did Eddie Brock capture Spiderman?”

Witty kid. He was testing her knowledge. “Brock steals Spiderman’s vision, power and mind.” Lara offered him the remote.

His icy hand slid over hers. At the contact, a gray mist circled her mind.

“Awaken,” the whisper grew louder.

Lara gripped the remote and shuffled back a step or two. Who was this kid?

A sudden coldness hit the center of her belly. Outside, the brown particles grew stronger, more of them dancing across the road. Her mind fuzzed like muddied water. Lara moved against the wall, trying to determine the threat to her and the city of Sedona.

The boy’s gaze flitted around the room liked a caged rabbit. His paranoia awakened her instinctive protectiveness. The teenager was afraid and whatever tortured him had something to do with the strange particles. The vibrational connections of energy screamed abuse. People who survived on causing fear in those too fragile to fight back.

All her life, she’d experienced that same metallic taste, that same sulfuric acid that poisoned your stomach, that constant crippling fear of taking the next step.

“Calm down,” Lara uttered to herself, drawing in her breath. Her gaze shifted to the kid. She’d help him if she could. “What’s your name?”

“Peter.”

“I’m Lara.” Her clairvoyant insight escaped like a stolen thought, unable to get an accurate reading on the spectral force surrounding him. She ran her fingers through her hair and tried to decipher his visit to her boutique. Lara didn’t believe in random occurrence, her views rooted in clear cause and effect, right or wrong.

For the last three months strange sightings appeared around dusk. Her predator instincts smelled daemon. The female mother spirit wanted her to protect her child, but why? Without thought, Lara reached for the sacred amulet of white sage that hung from one of the styrofoam heads sitting on the counter. Sage was a powerful repellant against dark energy.

The door chimed and a young couple holding hands came inside. Peter lowered his eyes and went back to the video game. Lara’s gaze followed the new arrivals as they shuffled through various pieces of jewelry, before selecting a decorative piece of pottery, and some red rock candles. Once they left, Lara returned her attention to the boy playing the game.

“Peter where are your parents?”

“Working, I like your flower garden, it reminds me of my mom.”

“What happened to your mother?” Even though she already knew—she needed him to say the words—make them real.

“She died.” The boy’s tone meek, like he’d disconnected from the tragedy and told a stranger’s story.

Before Lara could offer her sympathy, the door chimes jingled and the front door slid open.

A massive man strutted inside with shoulders like a linebacker for the Arizona Cardinals. A deep purple vein pulsed on the side of his throat.

The hair on her neck stood at attention as the strange shadowed particles swirled around the man like a swarm of bees surrounding their hive.

She reached into a drawer and grasped one of her shaman amulets. If provoked, she’d use the spirit-catcher to suck out any malevolent spirit that might be residing in the man.

“Archangel Metatron surround me in your protective white light.” A somber calm eased over Lara’s body and she slid from the chair to stand in front of Peter.

The boy stood petrified, his skin ashen, his fear of the man with the dark energy evident.

“May I help you?” Lara squinted her eyes tried to summon the man’s spirit guides. But there weren’t any she could detect, only a faint glimmer of a fledging soul, a captured spirit.

“Donaldson, I’m here to retrieve my son.” The man reached for Peter.

Lara couldn’t get a read on his life pattern. His soul was captive to something dark. She pulled her spirit-catcher in front of her body for protection against wandering misguided spirits. “Leave.” She waved the catcher in his direction, warning him she meant business.

“Peter,” his tone low but demanding, “let’s go home.” The man backed toward the boutique’s door, never taking his eyes from Lara.

Peter stepped out from behind her, his head hung low, shaken to the bone—submissive. At the door, he tilted his head to the left.

Peter whispered, “Its time,” before the pair left the shop.

Once they were gone, Lara slammed and bolted the door. She flipped the sign to closed and texted Angie.

Something was definitely wrong in Sedona!

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