The Spiritual Winter

By Terry LaBarba

Tolan Nichols can see that the predicted earth changes are in fact a reality. He delves into the mysteries of the Mayan Calendar with a trip to the Yucatan Peninsula to make sense of the newfound scientific data that time is accelerating. He sees us rushing toward a destiny —but to what end, or is it a beginning? Being left with the end of an age knowledge from the Ancient, he must write words of comfort to transmute the fear of the masses. The world depends on it. But what makes his world go ‘round with his Love deep beneath the snowy peak of Mt. Shasta? Having lost contact with the master, he discovers an unexpected and powerful ally who shows him what he’s really made of.

Benson Palmer’s daughter, Abigail, is eighteen now and claiming her independence from him by leaving I.N.’s headquarters with the handsome new chauffeur. Unaware that a bonding ceremony at birth has tied her to a five-hundred year old Lemurian man who believes she is his reincarnated wife, she finds herself in the middle of global power players and the truth of her origin.

Shamaness Corina sees the signs of her mortality and plans to hold on to J’Alor, her man throughout the ages, but will his promise to her change their fate or the secrets of their past deeds?

In this third novel of the series, many of the tale’s questions are answered and leaves you with new knowledge to process —your own part in humanity’s story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Terry LaBarba
• Release date: Mar 24, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301968800

Terry LaBarba

Terry LaBarba learned she could entertain through creative writing when she was a sixth grader and her class gave a round of applause after she read aloud a humorous story that she put together using the twenty spelling words for the week. Much later, with a creative streak unleashed, she wrote screenplays around premises she would like to see on screen with her favorite actors. The scripts became novels and her studies became metaphysical, always interested in new methods for healing the mind, body and spirit. With intuitive skills and a quest for better healing results, she left her training in the medical field for energy medicine and the ancient, shamanic practice of Huna. The search for health and well being brought her back to creative writing, where she shares what she’s learned within her fiction. Terry practices hypnosis, reiki and various Hawaiian, shamanic skills. Born and reared in Texas, Terry now lives in Dallas, Texas, where she is currently working on her fourth book of the We, The Hidden series. Understanding the potential of inspired fiction, not only does she want to entertain with her writing, she plans to reveal.

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The Spiritual Winter - Book 3 of the We, The Hidden Series

By Terry LaBarba

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The Spiritual Winter

Copyright 2013 by Terry LaBarba

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Smashwords Edition

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I dedicate this book to my sister, Linda, who prayed me into existence and kept me grounded whenever my world dished out more than I thought I’d ordered.

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Credit for cover image: © Abstrand | Stock Free Images & Dreamstime Stock Photos http://www.stockfreeimages.com/

Prologue

The shamaness closed her eyes as the slow, rhythmic drumbeats led her spirit body toward the far away realm. On her way, she looked back at her own body lying on the cushion. The long, ink-black hair lay across her velvet pillow. Her dark lashes showed no movement. Her Indian friend was nowhere in sight to dutifully pound on the ceremonial drum, or stand in his usual place in Terra’s courtyard, however, the drumming was still heard.

Her astral body soared quickly to her mission, toward the starry sky and beyond. There was more information she needed and what better source to search than the Dark Rift, light years away.

Once she reached the place of blackness between the rest of the celestial bodies she inwardly chanted the ancient, Polynesian words and blew out a sacred breath, loaded with the energy of what the kahunas call waha hamama. It would provide her with knowledge of hidden meanings. With a tranquilly, slow drift and total quiet, Terra opened to the answer she sought.

What brings you to the center of our galaxy, pagan woman?

She startled. Her eyes flashed open as she spun around to view the presence behind her that delivered the telepathic communication. It was a familiar presence and not one to threaten; nevertheless, it interrupted her brief measure of peace.

My stars, J’Alor! She brought an astral hand to her heart. Is there nowhere I can have a private moment? Are you following me? She recomposed herself, trying to appear more in control.

The Ancient One sparkled with the bright pattern of colors he was known for. I could ask you the same question. I have been around this realm for a while, assessing the Light status of the Earth inhabitants.

And?

And what?

How are we doing? There, she said it. It was the question of the times that lingered upon the lips of the universe and all who observed Earth.

Better than we all expected.

She turned to look at the big, blue Planet of Free Will. The billions on Earth who can only see the darkness and chaos would disagree.

He did not respond and she looked back at him. What, nothing about the true chaos to come? No sugar covering of how the Light will reveal all? The mysterious ways that bring about the glorious? What do you say, J’Alor?

His thoughts to her remained silent until her long hair swirled around her own flashes of illumination as she took a better look at what he saw in the Earth Mother before them.

Terra’s facial features smoothed as the love from the world zoomed to her in a wave of tenderness she had felt from no other source.

His mental voice was gentle. I say, blessed is the one percent who is a part the Light. It is all that it takes.

Terra’s colors swirled in a calmer fashion.

What brings you to this sacred space?

Something I have read in my cards disturbs me, she replied.

He did not think a word for a moment, nor did he ask what was the problem, which worried her more, thinking he must already know.

Well, J’Alor?

All is well and as it should be.

She glanced at him and gave her eyes a slight roll at the programmed response.

Corina and I will be going on holiday, as she calls it. Is there not a word I can give you to restore your peace over matters while I am away?

Terra looked into the crystal blue of J’Alor’s eyes, hoping to find herself wrong about her portent. It was he who looked away this time, which confirmed her suspicions.

She calls to me, now. Peace be with you, Terra, he thought to her and then J’Alor vanished.

She gazed back into the blank part of the sector, sensing the aloneness that usually accounted for the master’s sudden absence. For the moment, the Galactic Center held no answer for her, at least nothing that she did not already know. With that last thought she found herself back in her body, and the landing came with a jerk. The remnants of the journey’s drumming started to fade. She looked to the maroon and gold Persian rug by her meditation futon. The card layout remained as she had left it. Tears welled up in her eyes as she viewed the three cards that gave her pause. It was the Hasten card, The Lovers and the symbol for Death.

Chapter 1

She emerged from the crystal clear ocean like the goddess he knew her to be. The salty drops of water ran down her creamy skin as she padded across the Tahitian sand.

Corina moved towards her sexy husband and saw he was wearing nothing but a bronze glisten. The first thing she noticed was the sand dusted, perfectly shaped mounds of his backside, as he lay belly down on the beach and elbows on the ground, lifting his upper torso. The second was that he still carried the afterglow energy of their recent sexual joining. His long, blond hair floated against the breeze and around his shoulders.

Not bad for a fourteen-thousand year-old-man, she thought. Any minute there could be another tourist to notice her Adonis and there was no need to advertise his perfection. She raised a brow, watching his eyes fixed on the holographic images flickering above his palm. To view the past records of Earth’s collective account, otherwise known as the Akash, was a rare skill among his people, and J’Alor had always respected its worth. Still, she felt as if he paid her no mind.

But this was far from the truth, for even without looking, every cell in his body was aware of her. He knew she was stunning in her physical beauty. Her wealth of multi-hued hair would be in a wet tangle down her back, possibly still lifting and power-blowing around her, calling to him to leisurely smooth out with his fingers. Her aura colors would show a tinge of unease with her own public display of skin in the swimming attire she insisted on wearing. A ‘bikini’, she called it. For the sake of all things logical, he thought, why bother with such a mere scrap of fabric? It just was not natural to be covered at all on this glorious day.

J’Alor continued to watch the display reveal various scenes.

She sat on a beach towel next to him and peeked at the images that had his attention. She recognized the face of the current American president in a swearing in ceremony; the collapse of a tall, burning building and then another building, and the horrific war scene she knew was in Iraq. So, she thought, it was the recent past he reviewed.

You are becoming morose, gazing at such tragedy. Please, J’Alor. We are supposed to be on holiday.

Worry not, my Sweet, he said this time sounding almost as British as she did. He grinned with a particular promise in mind. I can multi-task.

Well then at least change the channel, she said.

The Tolan channel perhaps? I would not torture you with such.

I didn’t say … . Wait a minute, multi-task? Before she could get a chance to know what he truly meant she felt a warm, tingle move down her spine. Next, came a sweep of something across her back that felt like his hands but it couldn’t be. She saw them both and they were nowhere near her, yet the kneading sensation of warm fingers traveled over her tense muscles.

He cut his eyes to her to see her reaction. Her eyes were closed, languishing in his incredible, unseen touch.

Mmm, she moaned. Her eyes opened in surprise and looked down at her body that was now nude. Her swimsuit was nowhere in sight. She gasped and pulled a towel around her in a sudden fit of modesty.

His more exotic way of forming his words came forth. You deny the benefits of sunlight from body parts that need it. I am just being mindful of your health.

Oh, is that right?

Yes, and as a pagan woman, you should apologize to the fire element above.

She knew he was playing with her and swat at his rear end with a handful of her dripping mane.

He didn’t even flinch. No one can see us. We are cloaked, he said, still focusing on the images as if he was engrossed in the evening news, only his was a station that aired truth.

Are you certain? She looked around at the few people on the beach for any indication of being noticed.

He looked at her without expression. Would I share your body with undeserving eyes?

I suppose not. She smiled a wicked smile, took off the towel and lay upon it instead.

He closed his palm and the images stopped. Although he knew he could never be far removed from deciphering the mysteries of world events, he was no fool. His Pelina would always come first and the fact that he would do anything for her was now evident to the whole universe. He knew the story of their love was legendary, even in the far realms.

I can make love to you on this beach and not get sand over you.

"That is, get on me," she said correcting his English.

As you wish. He pulled her under him, leaving her the benefit of the powerful element beneath her, the earth. He knew a few energy activities that required grounding properties from his electrifying bestowment to come. He positioned himself in a precise way and then … .

Oh my! Corina’s eyes widened at the divine sensation vibrating her to the core. She should have known that the old dog still had some new tricks.

She was right, he thought. They were on holiday. For the time being, let the other One pick up the stick and lead with the awareness of the times.

Chapter 2

San Diego, California – 2004

What on God’s green earth is going on? Tolan Nichols slumped back in the expensive, executive style chair positioned near the Investigation Network briefing room’s frosty window. Looking out at the gray sky over the headquarters he remembered the weatherman had spoken of the record low temperature for that day in San Diego. It was thirty-eight degrees in mid May. Sure, the weather was exhibiting stranger behavior across the world than that with scorching record highs, polar ice melting, the violent winds, earthquakes and flooding. The Ancient One had told him this would happen. Tolan wanted to shift in his chair to ease the uncomfortable feeling that his knowing brought. This was only the beginning.

At least it wasn’t like a year ago where so many nearby lost their homes in the raging wildfires. His eyes had been lazily following one of the I.N. guards walking across the lawn, wearing a goose down jacket and knit hat.

The sound of Benson Palmer clearing his throat brought him around, so he looked over to the forty-something man in wire-rimmed glasses that Benson nodded to. It was Tolan’s visible sign of attention that they needed. After all, a company meeting was in progress and his key players were gathered around the table with their status reports and operational questions. He pretty much knew what the accountant’s words were before he said each sentence, at least he knew the context of his message. The content, such as figures, did not hold his interest.

It was much like the last meeting. The organization was doing phenomenally well. Their wealth had surpassed the earlier days when Cat was in charge. Putting his long time friend, Gordon Leake, in charge of Internet Operations had been a smart move. They were in the information age, a good time for an information business. But he would gladly give up the wealth for better world news. Everyday there were all kinds of things coming to light, things that put the burden of such knowledge on the ones who were previously unaware.

He had thought about the pressure Cat had been under as the previous organizational leader and loved her more for weathering it so well, but then again, when she was in charge those were the easy days, the end of the Cold War. It was before the dawning of the new unveiling of conspiracies, cover-ups, disinformation and plans of The Global Elite. Now all was being revealed, again, just like J’Alor had said. It was enough to upset the calmest of men.

Tolan nervously ran a finger back and forth against the armrest of his chair. If he didn’t remind himself that it was all about awareness he would be tempted to give in to despair. ‘You have to be aware of the truth,’ Corina, his long ago teacher had said, ‘or you cannot change anything and god knows we all are going through change.’ Their unveiling of the hard, ugly truth was more a mission, and a dangerous one at that.

Jacob Stewart finished his financial report with the awaited budget allocation question. The room went quiet. Benson squinted in assessment at his own appointed leader.

Tolan felt his look and answered in his usual British accent. Scratch the previous allotment and get with Gordon Leake on what he needs in the Conspiracy Department. I want something else to take equal priority along with the UFO-Alien contact disinformation investigation.

Oh, what now? Agent Peterson turned his steel blue eyes to Gordon with a perturbed expression.

Gordon suddenly looked as if he were without a clue and looked to his best friend in the big chair.

We will get back with you on the exact figure Mr. Stewart, as soon as I decide on it, Tolan said. Divine it was more like it but he wouldn’t confuse the man with such words hinting to his psychic abilities. That is all for you today, thank you.

Gordon tapped his shoe on the floor and tried to wait for their accountant to gather his paperwork and leave, but as soon as he did he looked to Tolan with a question, and so did Benson, his wife Sonya, their Chief of Security, Nick Anderson, and Agent Peterson.

Tolan swung his chair away from the window and faced them, but surprisingly, it was Peterson he looked to. What is going on with the weather?

Peterson knit his eyebrows and paused, taking offense in the direct question from the boss. Who do you think I am, Ralph Haralson the weatherman? How should I know?

Uh, Peterson, Benson started to warn the agent to soften his tone but Tolan pressed further.

I’m speaking of the unusual, global weather patterns as of late. Is the Department of Defense working with weather manipulation?

"You were listening to me," Gordon said to Tolan.

Peterson changed his expression to one of humor. Every time we have a cold snap or a hot spell people always go on like it’s never done it before. All through time there have been cycles--

--I thought you weren’t a weatherman and now you know all about cycles, Gordon threw in.

So you know nothing? Tolan asked the seasoned agent again.

I have no knowledge of such.

This time it was Benson, Nick and Tolan who watched the CIA man closely, all ready to detect a lie.

Very well, Tolan said with a carefree lilt. I believe you.

The agent looked at Gordon. Maybe now you’ll drop the nine-eleven being an inside job theory.

No way. Too many holes in the official report to do that.

Agent Peterson, that is all for you. Good day.

The rest watched Peterson leave the room and waited a few seconds before talking. It was Nick who spoke first, looking at Benson. What do you think?

He wasn’t lying. He doesn’t know anything. But that doesn’t mean there’s not anything going on. Benson looked to Gordon. I listened to your report, too.

Peterson was certainly defending the weather, Sonya said. But maybe it isn’t the D.O.D.

All I know, Tolan started, is that I don’t trust Peterson. He’s in the perfect position to be a mole, he’s on government payroll to be just that, but unfortunately, for the organization to remain on American soil a government representative within I.N. is a necessary one. I’ll continue to allow what investigation info Peterson can get to of ours until Peterson hangs himself with it.

Benson nodded. Peterson has always made a good indicator of when we’re getting close to governmental secrets. He’s so damned easy to read.

Gordon looked to Tolan. So the project is mine?

Tolan nodded his bequest. Be sure to include hired adepts in your investigation.

Shaman investigators, Benson said with a laugh. Got to love it.

We all know governments employ remote viewers, Nick said, so why not shamans? Look at what all they can do.

I’m glad you feel that way, Nick. You can work with Gordon. Tolan was pleased to pair the two, knowing that their strengths have been complementary in the past.

Nick looked at Gordon and then to Tolan. There’s nothing else you need me to do for you? With my past training … .

Benson leaned in towards his old Special Forces buddy, When we have someone for you to shoot, we’ll let you know.

Sonya rapped Benson on the head for his remark.

Benson, I’d like you to stay on, Tolan said, but the rest of you can go ahead for the day. I believe Cook has a hot meal waiting. Just like Tolan counted on, Gordon quickly lead the way out, leaving he and Benson alone in the large, soundproof room.

So Boss, Benson said, you don’t think the crazy weather is a result of planet abuse?

You know I don’t like for you to call me that. You’re just as much the leader here as I am.

Yeah, but you’re the man. The mysterious Info Nympho.

Stop it, please. I’ve held you back to ask a favor. I agreed to take on the ‘big chair’ as you all put it so that you could spend time with your family, rearing Abigail.

Benson started to squirm at what Tolan was about to say concerning his daughter.

She’s eighteen now and soon to go back to--

Just tell me what you want.

I will need some time to work on the notes I took from the Ancient, get his predictions together and do some research.

So it looks like the old guy is turning out right.

Frighteningly so.

And you want to write a book about it?

Tolan gave a tilt of his head in acknowledgement. Perhaps it will take more than one book to present this kind of knowledge. God knows this other book I’ve written is taking its time getting published.

Conspiracies of the Global Elite, although fascinating as it is will not win you any points with the powers that be. Everyone’s afraid to touch that one.

I have a new publisher who’s agreed to take it on.

Give it time. They’ll get to him. If he’s got a family, a career or a life worth living … .

Are you through being pessimistic?

Benson rolled his eyes and decided to change the subject. You don’t believe all the weather manipulation stuff is for real, do you?

Tolan tapped a finger against the point of a pencil as he casually answered Benson. There can be some truth to that. As much as I hate to admit it, when it comes to conspiracies, Gordon is usually right. I’ve come to think of it as one of his gifts.

But you really think the weather change is prophetic, the signs of the times?

"I think it’s the result of the times. The consequences of an ailing Earth so attuned to us, sick to death with all she has to process. Our raping her for oil, pollution, blasting her, nuking, overuse of the little fresh water remaining by a wasteful overpopulation, green lands becoming deserts, don’t even get me started on the oceans and rainforests. Tolan looked out the window at the cold day. Her processing of our unhealthy thoughts is enough. I’ve been told our science will be reporting more geological oddities. He looked back to Benson with all seriousness. There is a shift occurring and people need to understand what is happening and their part in it. The last thing we need to project is more fear."

But Tolan noticed the look of that same emotion in Benson’s eyes. How can he deliver this message without being misunderstood? He had to accentuate the positive, keep things light, and he had to start with Benson.

So guru, do we get a happy ending?

To find that out, Tolan said with a smile, you’ll have to read my book.

Benson relaxed on Tolan’s lead. The smile seemed to do that on its own.

So, what are your plans regarding the transfer agreement of our dear Abigail?

Benson’s lips went tight with the reminder. Tolan could see that Benson’s usual blue eyes had turned into a stormy gray.

Come on Benson, we don’t want a war over this. You do plan to comply.

I will but all I’ve agreed to was introducing Abigail to Alexius. It’s up to her to want him, right?

And if she does?

Then I’ll find a way to make her transition go smoothly.

Alright, and how do you tell your eighteen-year-old daughter that she once lived within Mt. Shasta with the decedents of an ancient race and was always engaged to marry the Chief of Security of their gathering? And that her Daddy and Mother are part Lemurian too, which means there was a little more left out along with the standard birds and the bees lecture.

There’s a chance she’ll resist him and they’ll not take her against her will. That’s not like them.

No it isn’t, Tolan said, but I wouldn’t bet on it. J’Alor and your Lemurian grandfather are considered rebels by the gathering’s standards, and Alexius is their old friend. There’s no telling how far he’ll go to get his way. It nearly killed him to give her up the first time. I still have nightmares on how that could have gone wrong had he not yielded.

So, I’ll get Sonya’s help with it. She thinks like a female. But I’d still like to knock down that cocky Lemurian a notch or two.

Benson, Tolan started in his diplomatic tone, he will be your son-in-law and might I suggest you do some psychological clearing with this issue. God knows we need them as allies not enemies.

You’re right. They still have Cat.

Chapter 3

‘They still have Cat.’ Benson’s words haunted Tolan the rest of the day. It had been twelve years since his decision to let Cat, or Celine, as she is now called, stay with her Lemurian father, Regis. He would want the best for her as well. Tolan stacked another log on the fire grate in his bedroom in the cliff house off the La Jolla, California beach. He lay on Cat’s oversized Hollywood style bed. The custom made bedspread was the one that she had picked out. He didn’t change a thing and wouldn’t until she was there with him. But she was no longer Cat, he had to remember, but Celine, the childlike beauty whose maturity had been robbed from her by a near death accident.

The blast of dark intention that J’Alor and Corina’s son, Wayne, had meant for him had somehow ricocheted onto her. It was no small miracle she was alive. He owed that much to the strange tribe of ascended beings within the mountain.

Tolan looked at the cold fireplace and sent his gift of fire to it and immediately it lit with a full blaze. All it took was one controlled thought. It was an odd talent he had since he was a child, one he learned to hide, with only a select few knowing in part of what he could do. He looked at the fireplace without a change in mood, doubting that mere warmth would comfort him enough that night.

He glanced to the three candles on the top of the oak armoire. They lit as well. He had fantasized many a night of revealing his fire ability to her. Certainly she would understand, given the interdimensional gathering she was a part of. But next to them, his talents were laughable. At least they wouldn’t forbid him to do it as his family had done. But would her people ever accept him? Could he be enough for her, assuming she would someday heal and act with adult sensibilities once again?

Tolan rolled on his side and looked at his reflection in the mirror on the wall. Had he changed much in twelve years? Would she think him an old, surface dweller instead of her boyfriend? Boyfriend was terribly understating the extent of his commitment to her. Although he didn’t want to become obsessed with fear of aging, he couldn’t help the occasional assessing of his appearance. It was hard to be objective, anyway. As far as he was concerned, at age forty-seven, he looked as he had when he met her. Gordon had passed him up with the aging, if he was truthful about it, and had gained about fifty pounds, but that was a given.

Benson looked about the same with Sonya close behind him in age. So, Benson inherited Cat’s slow-to-age genes. That must drive Sonya wild, he guessed. He wondered if they ever discussed what would it be like for them in forty or fifty years when Benson still looked in his thirties. He knew he certainly thought about that with Cat, or Celine or whomever of the two he’d end up with, even though they both were the same woman.

He hugged her pillow to his chest. The annual birthday visits had gotten to be too painful. That was why he decided to ease up and see her less often. Let’s see, it has been about five years now. Perhaps she would forget about him. He clinched the pillow in his fist. It was he who wanted to forget. If he could somehow be frozen, preserved until she was whole again. Perhaps he’d fund the development of such a process. But he had long since dismissed the cryogenic endeavors that Wayne had going on his base, with the demise of Dr. Vaseliv. The ability to successfully freeze a human being and bring them to a conscious state was not amongst the discoveries of late, and he had men working on that report.

Once again, he counted up the years. Celine’s little daughter, Mariah, would now be a teenager, possibly sharper than her mother, but it was said that the Lemurian and surface dweller crossbred children matured fast physically but the emotional side could be unpredictable.

A fear hit him in his gut. What if Mariah turned out like Wayne? God help Celine if that were the case. He hugged the pillow tighter, suppressing the child’s paternity question deeper within him. All this time and it was still painful.

Once again, he thought about how his life would be if he and Gordon had never remembered their lost time, the month they discovered the Lemurians, the time he fell in love and lost Cat. His life would be a simple one, caretaking at the nursing home, struggling to pay the rent. But his connection to the Ancient had him wondering if that would have ever been allowed. J’Alor was his number one supporter in his writing of a book of the end of age wisdom.

But J’Alor was not around. Tolan liked it that way. He would not be reminded of Corina, although the old injury in his leg was enough to keep her memory alive. How could he forget someone like her or her deceit? Her keeping information about Cat from him was unforgiveable. But the fact remained; they shared a common goal--to get themselves through the upcoming changes, being as much Love and Light for the world as they could be.

The log slung out an ember with a loud pop. He rose to look at the smoking bit of wood to make sure her room did not go up in flames again. He looked to the shelf by the bed where J’Alor’s ancient satchel sat. It held the notes of J’Alor’s teaching from the time they spent together in 1992. Should he dare read them? It would open up a whole world of wisdom that was becoming more and more relevant. Like the Ancient said, the meaning would come alive later, leaving more of a responsibility on him to deliver the message. Was he ready to take things to the next level?

His eyes went to the television set that had the nightly news playing but the sound was muted. More war, more deceit and more fear. He shook his head and reached for the satchel of J’Alor’s discourses.

After all, I did tell Benson I am committed to the study. He opened the notes to a random page and a tingle moved across his head as he read a couple of words. It was J’Alor’s referral to the Mayan calendar.

* * *

It’s simple, Benson, Sonya said, pulling her medium length, light brown hair behind her ears. Abigail won’t want to go if she’s in love with someone else. No one has come for her yet. We’ll put nothing but hunky, available men in front of her who wouldn’t mind romancing a beautiful rich girl.

Now why does that solution not sound compelling? Benson took two bottles of beer from the refrigerator case under the bar in the lounge at headquarters. He opened the bottles and handed his wife one. It was a tradition with him. Discoveries of world conspiracies and plans for private wars have all been discussed in that lounge, and at that very table.

Make up your mind, Benson. Alexius or someone to woo her first.

Either way is a lose/lose situation for me.

She tugged at the bottom of his ear. And it’s all about you, isn’t it?

Okay, point taken. But your suggestion sounds like a broken heart waiting to happen.

And Daddy will be there to make it better.

You are having fun with me here, aren’t you?

She took a big swig of beer and put the bottle down on their lounge table. What if she doesn’t want to go with anyone? Who says she needs a man at all?

Now you’re talking. Wait a minute, you’re not suggesting… ?

She’s young. Let her pursue her art, maybe a trip to Europe if she wants.

You lost me again. If she leaves these grounds, she leaves her protection. Even Alexius understands that. We are in a dangerous line of business, Sweetheart. She’s either here or underground. Benson placed his empty bottle on the table.

You’ve just come full circle. So, now what’s your plan?

Benson only looked at her.

I thought so. Look, introduce her to Alexius and let her decide.

I think about all the lectures I’ve given her about staying away from the older guys and all the I.N. bodyguards I’ve personally threatened, and not to mention Peterson putting the fear of God in each new recruit to stay away from Abby. So all of the sudden it’s ‘here honey, you are to marry this one. By the way, he’s over five-hundred years old and lives in a cave.’

You know what would be best?

Sonya and Benson both turned at the sound of Cook’s voice. Tell us wise one, Benson said.

"Okay, wise-ass, Cook said, It would be best to let nature take its course. Once this Alex and Abigail meet, see what they come up with. He’ll be a gentleman. My guess is that he’s a big old teddy bear when it comes to her."

I can go along with the big and old part.

Hell, he’ll cave in to whatever she wants, Cook continued, just like Peterson does. She’ll be treated well and be safer there than anywhere else. Remember Benson, that was home to her before and she loved him then.