Something Lucky This Way Comes

Chapter 1

Selina

Selina was mystified. When she first moved to New York City, she'd continued with her research into the supernatural. At that time, Selina had met some of the strangest people. People believed they were vampires, werewolves, and just about any other nonhuman entity a person could imagine. If they didn't think they were one of these creatures, they were on a mission to become one. It seemed bizarre that they had no fear. Instead of trying to find a way to become the undead, shouldn't everyone gather in the village square with their torches and pitchforks to hunt them down instead?

Selina's family owned a carnival, and she'd grown up in a travel trailer that was in another town each week. Since she was young, Selina had heard stories about the old country and the supernatural. When she was little, the stories fascinated her. Selina had fled from her home when she was 18 to make her mark on the world. That didn't stop her from wanting to know more about the unknown.

When she arrived in the Big Apple, Selina found a job as a personal assistant at an investment firm. Four years into it, her boss confessed that she didn't get the job because of her talents, and he expected more. He'd asked her to marry him. At 22, Selina had no desire to be some older guy's trophy wife, so she'd quit on the spot.

Frankly, the lure of living in a big city had lost its luster. Crime was on the rise, and she didn't feel safe being young and single like she had when she first moved there. Not that she had any desire to live in a travel trailer and skip across the country, but maybe a small town where she could buy a house and put down roots would be nice. The one positive of her old job was that she had saved a nice nest egg she could use for a down payment.

Before she did that, Selina planned to go home and visit her family. She hadn't returned to the carnival since she left, and her dad told her that her grandmother was starting to show her age. So Selina wanted to spend some time with her.

The carnival was currently in Taos, New Mexico, where they were having a Halloween Festival. She made arrangements to fly out.

---

"Death," Esmeralda announced, flipping the tarot card face-up and placing it on the table between them.

When Selina had arrived, her father had sent her straight to her grandmother, who'd insisted that Selina needed her cards read. When Selina was nine or ten, her family had put her to work reading palms and crystal balls for the small-town marks. It was either that or help run one of the games or rides.

When she was older, her grandmother began to teach Selina to read tarot cards. Her grandmother was the real deal. Not a fake like so many you ran into, but an actual Romani--better known as gypsies. She had the

gift

. Selina's mother was supposed to have it, but she'd died giving birth when Selina was three. She'd also lost her little brother that day. Her father was devastated and had turned raising Selina over to her grandmother when she was younger.

Esmeralda assured Selina that she had the gift and that her true calling was reading tarot cards. Selina knew that her grandmother saw her granddaughter as her legacy. Selina's mother had been a disappointment because she'd married an outsider or non-Romani. Esmeralda was determined to see that Selina married a fellow Romani and continued the reader's tradition.

Having her grandmother read her cards took her back to the day she'd decided she had to leave. It was a slow day, so Esmeralda taught her how to be a good Romani as well as her craft. It was a Sunday afternoon, which meant they would be moving on in the morning. Since it was early September, they would soon travel south and west for the winter.

Esmeralda tapped the exposed card with one of her arthritic fingers.

"What does this one mean?"

Selina remembered that she had wanted to be anywhere but there. She would have loved to run into town and hang out with kids her own age. Instead, she was stuck being lectured by her grandmother. Usually, Selina enjoyed spending time with her. But there had to be more to life than this.

"Selina," Esmeralda's deeply accented voice warned to stop Selina from daydreaming.

Selina knew her best option was to pay attention and get through this.

"Death," Selina answered obediently.

She studied the card to recall its meaning. Pictured was a skeleton wielding a sickle.

"Many people mistakenly think that the death card means real death. Instead, it signals the end and the beginning, destruction, and creation. It indicates you are about to go through a transition or transformation. New things are ahead, be they good or bad," Selina recited.

"And if the card is reversed?"

Selina frowned.

"Stubbornness or being stuck in a rut. You are unable to either make or accept the need for change."

Her grandmother sensed that Selina had had enough for one day.

"Go and have some fun. Take the back way because your dad is working the midway. You don't want to get caught and put to work."

Selina gave her grandmother a quick hug of thanks before rushing out.

Coming back to the present, Selina knew that the death card foretold that her life was about to change, and it had. Seeing that card again, Selina felt it deep inside. Something was coming. She knew it wasn't just her decision to leave New York City. Whatever it was, it felt like a storm on the horizon that was about to crash upon her.

While Selina had no idea what lay ahead, she knew it was going to be big.

---

Chapter 2

Mason

Mason left his adobe house and locked the door behind him. He and his brother lived in a small house just north of Taos in an area called Taos Pueblo. It was one of the oldest continuously inhabited communities in the United States, dating back to 1000 AD. The tiny home had been in their family for generations. Their parents were among the fortunate few locals who owned a large ranch and had given the adobe cabin to the boys as a starter home.

Mason woke early and figured he might as well get caught up on paperwork at his shop, Taos Gallery. Taos had a large artist contingent, and the city encouraged them by offering free housing to artists who were just starting out. Mason was beginning to get a following for his work but made his living selling the work of others.

The sun hadn't risen yet, but he had excellent night vision, so walking to work this time of day wouldn't be a problem. Mason stopped at the edge of the path to their house, trying to figure out what the dark glob on the sidewalk in front of the neighbor's place might be.

A smashed jack-o'-lantern covered the pavement, hurled to its demise with enough force to splatter its guts everywhere. Mason looked down the street and saw more suspicious globs on both sides of the road.

He shook his head in amazement. How dumb did the vandals have to be to hit an area where a cop lived? Mason wondered if the damage had been done when his brother, Aaron, left for the station. As a new detective, things like petty vandalism weren't in Aaron's job description, but that wouldn't have stopped him from arresting the pranksters if he'd caught them.

Mason walked into the street to avoid the stringy mess of pulp and seeds and hoped the perpetrators hadn't hit the entire block.

Instead of going right to his shop, Mason veered off to visit his favorite coffee shop, The Roasted Bean. Locals just called it 'The Bean.' Even at this hour, they were busy.

Mason stepped behind the last person to wait for his turn to order. The line moved quickly, and Karen, The Bean's manager and Mason's best friend looked up when he approached. They'd dated for a minute in high school but decided it was too much like incest. Karen was the sister he never had.

"Hey, Mason. How's it going?"

Mason held back from making a comment on her attire. She was dressed like a witch and had a long black wig to hide her blond locks. It seemed the whole town had gotten into the spirit of the Halloween festival.

"Not bad if I don't count the smashed pumpkins all over town," he replied with a frown.

Karen knew what everyone ordered, so she didn't even ask him what he wanted.

"One Americano black," Karen called out to her barista, a new girl Mason hadn't met yet.

"Everything okay?" Mason asked when his friend didn't have her familiar smile for him.

"Yeah. Some idiot took down the detour signs to run people around the carnival. I followed another girl, and we got boxed in. It took us forever to double back."

Karen had heard all the blond jokes Mason and Aaron could come up with while growing up. He was afraid she was baiting him to make a crack so she could start using the nicknames she labeled them with when they were younger--Brick and A. A. Ron. At first, he didn't get the Brick reference. It was her turn to connect the dots, so to speak. Mason equaled Masonry, which equaled Brick.

"It could have been worse," Mason said as he reached for his drink.

"I hear you," Karen said.

At least he'd gotten her to smile.

Mason let himself into Taos Gallery and turned off the alarm. The front window display was a large canvas intended to serve as a mural. It had been painted by several of the local artists as a fun project.

It had all the expected Halloween themes. Besides all the usual ghosts and cemeteries, Mason added a portrait of his brother in wolf form.

It reminded him of when he and Aaron were little, and he posed the question to his parents:

Why can't werewolves trick-or-treat?

---

Buck paced the floor, practically tearing a hole into the flooring with how fast he moved. His sister Luna and her husband, Buck's past Alpha, sat on the couch. Her husband had arms around Mason and Aaron, who were none the wiser to their uncle's distress.

"You're out of your f--..." Buck's eyes cut to Mason and Aaron again as they innocently looked at him. He huffed before resuming his pacing. "... effing mind. We're werewolves, not humans."

"Are you saying my children should be limited based on what they are?" Luna asked.

Her question didn't really sound like a question; it was one of those where Buck knew he had to be careful about how he responded. Luna had a temper, and would make him regret saying something stupid.

"We didn't do it as children," Buck said.

But as the words came out of his mouth, he visibly cringed.

Luna got in his way to stop his pacing and talk to her.

"I won't have my boys grow up the way we did. Do you want that for Mason and Aaron?" Luna glared at him.

Buck shook his head 'no.' He glanced at Mason and Aaron, who looked up at him expectantly. Buck had an expression that said he thought his sister was insane. Mason didn't give his mom much chance to convince his uncle because he and his brother had killed the neighbor's rooster just a week ago. Aaron had tried to explain it was justified because the bird made a racket at all hours, even in the middle of the night. Mason's dad might agree that letting the two pups, as he called them, loose on the community might be a bad idea.

"It's their first Halloween," Luna pressed.

The boys had been made aware of what Halloween meant when they went to kindergarten. They'd made their case to their mother, who was now fighting their battle.

Buck rolled his eyes.

"They won't even remember in a few years. Let's just buy them a bag of candy and be done with it."

Aaron looked at Mason expectantly, but Mason put his hand on his brother's arm before he shouted out that he would go along with that. Since Mason was the dominant brother, Aaron kept his mouth shut.

"I want pictures for their photo albums," Luna said, already talking as if it was a done deal.

It was, and Buck knew it, but he still didn't want to take his rambunctious nephews trick-or-treating. Not for the first time, he wished that Luna's husband could go out in public. There'd been an accident, and he'd not transformed back into human form completely. It had forced Buck to become Alpha, and he had to fill in to accompany the youngsters to public events.

"Luna, I re--"

"Boys, go put on your costumes," Luna ordered.

Buck stared at his sister.

"Luna..."

Mason and Aaron waited for their uncle's final word. As Alpha, they wouldn't go against what he decided, even if their mother told them to.

Buck finally relented. Looking back, he was probably right to be hesitant. Mason and his brother, if nothing else, tested their uncle's patience.

Coming back from his thoughts, Mason locked the door behind him and headed for the coffee pot because one cup wouldn't be enough today. He went to his desk and booted up his computer to check his email. He turned on the radio for some background noise.

"Reports of minor vandalism are coming in from all over town," the news anchor announced. "While some people might think playing pranks are part of the spirit of Halloween, we need to remind listeners that the police will not be amused. Charges can be brought for vandalism."

Mason pulled out his phone and hit Aaron's number on speed dial. Aaron answered on the first ring. Just hearing his brother's voice put him in a better mood. Unlike a lot of brothers, they were also best friends.

"I want to report a crime," Mason joked.

"Jesus, not you, too. What happened?" Aaron sounded worn, and his shift had only just begun.

"Several pumpkins bit the dust--or rather, the sidewalk--on our block. Karen said someone took down the detour sign for the festival."

"Well, you're going to have to stand in line--a long line--if you want to file a complaint," Aaron replied. "There's always some of this kind of thing around Halloween, but this year it's off the charts. Not just near downtown--everywhere, and our best guess is it's high school kids."

"Sorry to hear that," Mason answered. "At least you have something to do."

Aaron actually growled at his brother. That made Mason's day.

---

Chapter 3

Selina

After spending time catching up with family, Selina decided to explore the little downtown area. She'd found a small art gallery that had some interesting pieces. She'd been around enough people in New York with more money than sense who would have killed to have some of this art.

She took in one that caught her eye. It looked like a wolf family frolicking under the New Mexico moon. The imagery made you feel happiness at the joy the artist captured in their moment of play. When she looked closer, she was amazed at the detail of little things, be it a rock, cloud, or tiny bug. Selina felt it might be the first purchase for her new house until she saw the price tag, which rivaled New York City prices.

"That is one of my favorites."

The deep, male voice behind her was laced with amusement. Selina spun around, blushing.

"I was..." Selina said as her voice left her at the sight of the man standing behind her.

Selina had gone a little wild when she moved to New York, which was filled with gorgeous men who made it a sport to pick up newbies for one-night stands. This man looked about her age with dark brown eyes and was absurdly good-looking. She was having a hard time thinking about how to describe him. He wasn't GQ or male-model beautiful, and he was... elfin. He reminded her of Tolkien's description of the elves in Lord of the Rings. Definitively masculine, exuding a calm, quiet sense of inner strength and confidence. Sharp-featured, exotic-looking, with a gaze that flitted around the room and missed nothing.

If Selina had seen him in a club and had to guess his job, it would be... rock star. He was at least six-one and had a lean and rugged look that only came from hours in the gym. He wore skinny jeans that were almost but not quite too tight, the cuffs tucked into well-worn, Sharpie-decorated Chucks.

Then her premonition kicked in. The man was more than he seemed. Selina squinted at him, and it felt like she was within range of a wild, hungry panther with its eyes fixed on her. Her lizard brain warned her that he could pounce at any moment, and she wouldn't stand a chance. He just exuded lethality in a way she'd never encountered before.

Selina's lizard brain was of two minds. She should either run right now or do some pouncing of her own. While she wasn't a virgin, she hadn't had that much experience. What she noticed was this man's... Uhm... equipment. From what Selina could see of the outline in his jeans, he was... exceptional. It looked big enough to make her fist clench and her mouth go dry.

Realizing that she was staring at his crotch, her head snapped up to see him grinning at her. His hair was bound low on the nape of his neck, with the end trailing down to his shoulder blades in a thick, wavy, brown ponytail.

It was funny because being back at the carnival for only a couple of hours made her think about what would happen if she saw him on the midway. Selina would take him as the local jock with some bimbo on his arm. She would assume he hung out with a bunch of drunk, arrogant, dumbass friends, the type of townies who would sneer their superiority at the carnies at work. Selina would instantly hate him and want to run some kind of con to separate him from his cash.

What stopped her from assigning him that stereotype was that most guys like that would never be caught in an art gallery.

"You like the artist?" he asked, nodding toward the wolf painting.

Selina glanced at the painting, trying to think of what to say that wouldn't make her sound foolish. The silence stretched out a little too long.

"If this one is too pricy, we have others by this artist that are smaller," he suggested.

'Oh, no. He works here,'

Selina thought.

This time, the heat flaring on her face was as much anger as embarrassment. He'd made the presumption that she couldn't afford the painting. She was surprised at how the emotion hit her. Selina thought she'd gotten past the stigma of her Romani heritage. People made assumptions. Hell, he might even want her to turn out her pockets, thinking she was a shoplifter.

Selina glanced guiltily at the painting. The truth was, she really couldn't afford it, no matter how much it called to her.

"Would you like to see it in a better light?" the guy asked.

"That would be nice," Selina mumbled.

"She can talk."

His grin undercut any sarcasm that might have been in his voice.

"Here," he said, reaching past her to take it from the wall. "Let's go to the viewing room."

Selina felt the heat of his body as he got close to her. She couldn't remember feeling any guy being literally as hot as he was. It was as if he had a little furnace built in. And his scent was all male. Her face instantly flushed. She realized that he noticed because of the little knowing look. This guy must have women throwing themselves at him.

What was she thinking? This guy was a townie. Plus, after this weekend, she would be moving on to whatever came next in her life. Selina didn't need the local studmuffin to garner another notch in his headboard at her expense. She'd quickly learned her lesson in New York. Her pride wouldn't let her go there.

Then again, she wasn't the same naïve little girl who'd left four years ago.

She let him tell her all about the painting. Selina found that with his description, she saw things she'd missed at first, which made her love it even more. In the end, she had to say 'no.'

"I can't afford it," she readily admitted.

"Are you in town for the festival?" he asked.

"Do I come off as a tourist?"

"No, it isn't that. This town is small enough that if you lived here, I would know you."

"Yeah. For a few days."

The guy nodded.

"I've always wanted to travel, but I've never been more than sixty miles from here."