The night was cool and thick with moisture when Daemon woke, shivering. He’d had another dream. He couldn’t seem to figure out why he was having unwanted dreams about the queen of Wiccan--she was mated to one of his best friends, the king of Wiccan.

Shivering as the cool night air hit his naked body, Daemon slipped his legs over the side of the bed and quietly walked across the room toward the open window. His eyes watched the glow of the single moon which hung over the Nebraska green lands. His hands braced the windowsill until his knuckles turned white.

“There has to be a reason why I’m having these dreams,” he said aloud, shaking his head and dropping his chin to his chest. He inhaled the crisp clean air deep into his being, willing his soul to seek out the answers to his much needed questions.

Then it came to him. He had to leave this place of solace to seek out the answers in a small town in California.

The night was warm and humid when Daemon pulled into the small town on his Harley. Stopping at the edge of town, revving the engine with a flick of his wrist, the Harley began to roar through the quiet, empty streets. He found a hotel to his liking halfway down the block of main street. Only the light of the clerk’s office was on. Calling to him. Daemon body was growing weary of traveling though this valley of California for several hours.

He’d been traveling through the dusty streets and highways until he came across this small town. Moonscroft. Something about this town was pulling him in and it had nothing to do with his tired, travel weary body. A closed fist covered a yawn with while turning the engine off with a click of his wrist. His eyes roamed over the empty streets of the small town.

Moonscroft, a small town in California, was in the heart of the central valley, settled in the middle of farmland. A small community of barely four-thousand people, most of them work at the Naval Air Station twenty miles away.

Parking the Harley next to the office of the gray motel, he climbed off the bike. Daemon pushed the door open and stepped inside the small, cozy office. A deep-green fern hung from a brass hook in a corner of the ceiling. His footsteps echoed across the white tile floor of the quiet office. No one seemed to be in the room, but a small bell sat next to an open book in the center of the white counter. Daemon reached out to tap the bell and a loud ding echoed against the silence. His hands rested on his hips while waiting for the clerk to make his appearance.

His feet shifted when an elderly man finally stepped into the room, shuffling his feet across the carpet. Turning his back to the counter, he let his eyes peer into the darkness of the quiet town. The old man reached up with the palm of his hands to rub them over his face. Daemon watched the man shuffle forward, his hands resting on the counter.

“What can I do for you, young man?” the white haired man asked while glancing at Daemon with tired, pain-filled eyes. His fingers drummed along the white counter as he waited for the younger man’s reply.

Daemon guessed the man was sleeping in a bedroom off to the side of the office. His eyes turned back to the older man on the other side of the counter. “I need a room for a night, maybe two.” He watched the man through worried eyes taking note of the man’s arthritic hands while he moved slowly behind the counter. A sense of this man being in a lot of pain overwhelmed Daemon and he closed his eyes briefly, then opened them when the man spoke.

“It’s thirty dollars a night,” the old man informed Daemon while pulling out a yellowish registration card and began filling it out.

Daemon slipped his fingers inside his pocket to withdraw the credit card Darr had given him days before leaving his house in Nebraska. He passed it across the counter while silently chanting. The other man’s fingers brushed along Daemon’s then paused. Something shifted in the old man’s eyes when he pulled his hand away from Daemon’s. Holding back a grin, he watched while the man finished filling out the card.

The clerk paused in his writing to rub his hands together, pushing his eyebrows upward. Mumbling something incoherent, he went back to finish writing on the registration card. He moved along the counter easier and Daemon nodded his head. “Sign here,” he spoke to Daemon, pointing at the paper in front of him.

Signing his name on the line, he then pushed the card back to the clerk. He tucked the card in an index then handed Daemon a key card. “Have a good night,” he called out to as Daemon began to walk away from the counter.

Daemon paused to look over his shoulder, “Have a good night yourself.” Pausing near the door to pick up a newspaper from the rack, he tucked it under his arm as he stepped outside. The cool air hit him instantly when stepping off the curb to climb onto his bike. He could still feel the humidity in the air. A sense of awareness washed over him and he knew it was getting closer to the midnight hour.

He rolled the Harley up quietly next to his room, parking the bike near the door. Daemon pulled out a black duffel bag with red stripes from the storage compartment in the back of the bike. Letting out a weary sigh, he slid the card key through the slot to open the door.

The bag slipped from his fingers to land on the floor with a hard thud. Tossing the newspaper on a small round table, Daemon walked across the white carpet toward the bed. Peeling his black T-shirt from his massive chest, he tossed it on the floor near the queen-size bed. He pulled the deep-blue comforter back and threw it to the foot of the bed. Kicking the black boots from his feet, he pushed the blue jeans from his hips and threw them onto the floor.

Daemon slipped between the white sheets and tucked his arms under his head, then sighed. Reaching over to grab his jeans from the floor, with his other hand he pulled out a cell phone from the pocket. His jeans fell back onto the floor while Daemon flipped the phone open and began pressing a series of buttons on the phone to dial Darr’s cell phone.

When Darr answered his cell phone he was quick to tell him what was going on. “I’m in Moonscroft,” Daemon informed him, leaning back on the bed, his hand rubbing down his face then he sighed again.

“Moonscroft?” Darr spoke softly.

Daemon closed his eyes. “In California. It’s a small town in the valley.” Rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand again, his body began to relax as he shifted on the bed. Using a hand to move the pillow under his head, he shifted his body on the bed to find a more comfortable position which caused the springs under the bed to squeak against his movements.

“Have you found what you’re looking for?” Darr asked then began murmuring in the background; Daemon figured he was talking to Alexandria.

“Not yet,” Daemon muttered, disconnecting the call. Reaching over, he set the cell phone on the night stand then turned off the light.

Lying in the bed with darkness surrounding him, he sat up. His hands rested on his knees, his feet tucked under his thighs. After several moments of trying to find solace in his mind, Daemon gave up. He lay back again on the bed with his arm over his eyes. He tried to even out his breathing by taking deep even breaths and tried to relax his muscles.

Thoughts about the Queen began to disturb him, making his body heavy with tension. Instinctively he knew he would find the answers in this small town about the strange dreams he’d been having lately

It didn’t look like he was going to be getting much sleep tonight, so he rolled over onto his back with the pillow tucked under his chin. His arms wrapped around the pillow, then closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep but was failing miserably. He got to his feet to open the sliding window, thinking a midnight flight might ease the tension. He began to chant softly. His body began to change form.

~ * ~

Megan Ramsey was thrown against the wall, landing with a hard thud. An arm began pressing against her throat, making it hard to breathe. She stared hard into the brown eyes staring back at her. Sounds of hard grunts and moans were heard around her while she began to regulate her breathing. Breathing hard against the arm blocking her breaths, she reached up with a steady hand while her eyes held his. Her finger slipped around his thumb then she dug her nails into the soft flesh to yank his arm downward.

Megan twisted his arm making him cry out in pain. Shifting her weight toward him, she using her hip to throw him on the blue and red checkered mat. His eyes stared up at her, stunned by the sudden move.

“You’re getting good.” He told her as Megan helped him to his feet.

Her hand gripped his as she pulled him to his feet. “I’ve been practicing, Sensi.” She murmured, wiping her hands over her black gi.

Sensi Brent Owens turned to stare at his other students, they were going over the moves he’d taught them minutes earlier. Glancing down at her watch and noting the time, Brent turned back to her and she bowed to him. “I need to leave for my shift,” she told him. Her body was aching and she knew there must be some new bruises on her body and her breathing was harsh and deep.

Brent nodded his head, bowing down back to her. “You may leave. And please be careful out there, you never know what may happen tonight.”

“Thank you.” Megan murmured then she stepped off the mat then bowed down to it. She turned to pick up a duffel bag while untying her purple belt and tossed the belt inside the bag, then began to peel off her black top and stuffed it inside. Wearing the black pants and a thin strapped, ribbed pink T-shirt, she stepped out of the Dojo with her black gi pants to change into her uniform.

Warm air instantly washed over her over-heated skin, drying the sweat from her body. Reaching up to wipe a bead of sweat from her forehead, Megan glanced over the street as a few cars rushed by her. She shifted the strap of the bag over onto her shoulder so she could tug a pair of sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose when the glare of the morning sun became to blinding for her brown eyes. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, he pulled one out then lit it. She began to make her way toward the highway patrol car parked at the curb and tossed the duffel bag into the trunk before sliding into the driver’s seat. Her hands rested on the steering wheel wondering what the day held in store for her. She reached out to pick up the mike to check in with the dispatcher.

“Car three-one-seven, check,” the dispatcher acknowledged.

Megan started the car then pulled away from the curb. She took a deep pull from her cigarette while making the usual rounds up and down Highway 198 between the Lemoore Naval base and the Highways 198 and 99 junction while watching for speeders before pulling off to the small side roads. Then she pulled into the small town of Moonscroft, driving slowly while taking in the vehicles parked along the curbs.

At the far corner of the street, near an abandoned bar and grill, she spotted a motorcycle parked out front. Megan slowed down the patrol car as she got closer to the bar. A woman stepped outside, then a black haired man stepped out behind her. Megan stopped the car as she watched them for several moments.

Her spine stiffened in the seat, hands gripping the steering wheel until the knuckles turned white. Sweat coating along her forehead, her body began to tremble. “No,” she said softly while shaking her head, not wanting to believe what she was seeing. She tore her gaze away from the man who only appeared in her dreams. “This can’t be real. This can’t be happening.” Pressing her foot on the gas pedal to pull away from the intersection, her fingers trembled as she reached for her pack of cigarettes and withdrew one, lighting it. A thin stream of smoke filled the interior of the patrol car and she reached out to roll the window down to let the smoke out.

Pounding her hand on the steering wheel, she couldn’t seem to stop the shaking of her body while turning a corner. “He can’t be real,” she muttered when the radio squawked, nearly causing her to jump out of the seat. “Requesting every available unit for an accident on Highway 198,” came through the radio from the dispatcher. Listening to the exact location, she realized it was too far from where she was currently driving.

“This is car three-one-seven, responding,” Megan informed dispatch then turned her lights and siren on, making a U-turn in the middle of the road, almost causing another accident. She threw the cigarette out the window and headed to the location.

The scene of the accident was every officer’s nightmare--a ten car-pile-up. A bloody mess. Megan inhaled sharply, gaining control of her queasy stomach.

She walked along the length of cars, peering inside them. A couple of the vehicles were empty of their driver’s and passengers. An emergency medical team was working on the injured passengers.

Megan pulled a fellow officer to the side, “Do you know what the cause was of this pile-up?” Her eyes glanced over at the mangled vehicles.

“They’re still investigating,” Victor Sanchez replied, looking over his shoulder when his name was called out by another officer.

Megan reached inside of her patrol car searching for her bag. Shouts began from behind her. She spun around to see what was going on. A man was going into cardiac arrest. Leaving the door open to her patrol car, Megan ran up to the side of the man whiles the EMT’s were busy working on him. Her own heart nearly stopped beating as she stared into his ashen face. A bead of sweat trickled down her spine while she dropped to her knees.

“We’re losing him,” one of the EMTs called out, reading a monitor hooked up the man. “He’s flat lining.”

“We need to get him to the hospital, ASAP,” the other EMT muttered, whose nametag read “Sarah”. Pushing down on the man’s chest with her hands, he kept up a hard and steady rythm performing CPR. The air around them seemed to thicken and become heavy with tension.

“We need an air-lift,” Jack, the first EMT, called out over his shoulder at Megan.

Megan nodded her head while talking into the radio transmitter from her shoulder, requesting an air-lift from the dispatcher. She clipped the mike back onto her shoulder as she squatted closer to the man. She picked up one of the man’s hands with hers while gazing into the middle-age face. A strong feeling that this man shouldn’t be alone overwhelmed her.

Warmth began to spread from her fingers into his, an urgent need to chant overwhelmed her and she didn’t understand why. All she could think of was that wanted this man to live. Her hand gripped his tighter and the will for him to live became stronger within her. Within seconds, her body began to grow weary and she dropped their hands into her lap. She opened her eyes suddenly, she hadn’t realized that they’d been closed.

“We got a heartbeat,” Jack shouted jerking Megan out of the daze she was in. Blinking her eyes she took her hand from the man’s and looked around her as she stood. Her eyes puzzled at what happened. Slowly, she made her way back to her patrol car and placed her hand on the open door. Get a grip on yourself, she told herself with a stern voice, shaking her head again. It could just be a coincidence. Inhaling a deep breath before climbing into the patrol car, there was suddenly a thump-thump sound above her. She glanced up into the sky to find a red and white helicopter hovering.

Megan glanced over her shoulder toward the man where EMT’s were still working on him and preparing him to be put into the air-lift. Hoping that he’d make it to the hospital, she reaching into the car for her cigarettes, pausing with the pack in her hands, then tossed them back inside into the passenger seat. Her eyes moved along the highway and the tangled vehicles.

Tow trucks began arriving to clear the wreckage and she was no longer needed here. Pulling onto the shoulder of the highway, she made a U-turn and drove back to Moonscroft. Her body began to tremble at the thought of seeing the man again. She inhaled several deep breaths, gaining control of her body again--yes, this was one bloody mess.

Driving slowly next to the bar again, her eyes glanced toward the building. The ‘For Sale’ sign that had been there was now gone. Her breath hitched in her throat and she shook her head. Pressing her foot on the gas pedal, she drove away. Memories of the dreams she’d been having for the past year began running through her mind. Some were too erotic for her to even mention. But she couldn’t stop the feeling that this one man was about to change her life forever.

~ * ~

Sitting alone in the bar, on a metal stool, Daemon stared out the dirty, old window and watched the cars driving by him. A highway patrol car had stopped across the street. His grew body stiff while his heart began pounding fast. There was something about the car. A strong feeling there was a woman inside the vehicle came over him, but he couldn’t see the face through the dirt and grime of the windows. His eyes flew to the woman in the car just as it pulled away.

Daemon watched it leave then turned back to the bar. It needed a good thorough cleaning. Cobwebs hung down from the ceiling, paint peeled from the walls. The windows definitely needed a good cleaning. Shaking his head while his feet dropped to the dusty floor, which caused a spiral of dust to lift to the air, Daemon waved his hand in front of him. The dust disappeared from around him.

Eyes glancing toward the ceiling, suddenly there were potted plants, flowers and various herbs hanging down. Daisies to help elevate feelings and inspiration. Tulips for willpower. Lily of the valley to stimulate intellect. Sarsaparilla for social elevation. Rosemary for happiness and Ginseng for prosperity, vitality and sexual force.

Daemon’s eyes looked toward the tables, gleaming through the cleaned windows. The tables looked new again once he’d worked his magic to clean them and remove the scratches. White, cloth table cloths covered the tables--white for luck, peace and calm. Candles in assorted colors were placed in the center of each table.

With his arms crossed over his chest, he turned on his heels and went into the kitchen. Pots and pans still covered with dried food were still in the sinks. A strong odor wafted to is nose. Daemon sighed, chanting as he moved his arm in a circular motion.

The odor was gone and the pots and pans were shining with a sparkling silver, hanging from nails above the cleaned stove. He pushed a hand into the pockets of his black jeans. “Soon,” he murmured, shrugging his shoulders. “Tonight.” Nodding his head, he left the kitchen and into headed back into the bar. The sun was beginning to fade from the sky as he stood before the window looking out. A couple of women were crossing the street toward the bar. The waitresses he’d hired to work for him.

Daemon opened the door for them, letting them inside.

“Wow.” The redhead spoke softly with her mouth open. “The place looks great.” She turned to smile up at him.

“Nice,” the brunette agreed with her. “You did all this since this afternoon?” She turned to him, her hands resting on her hips.

“I had some help,” Daemon muttered then clapped his hands together.

“Let me get you some aprons.” He started for the bar and reached beneath it. “You do remember what I’ve told you?” he asked giving them each an apron, looking past them as three men entered the bar--the cooks and dishwasher.

“Yes.” The women spoke at the same time.

Daemon waved the men over, motioning for them to sit down on the bar stools. “Jon, you’re the head cook. Bob you’re doing the prep and Steve, the dishwasher. Meet Candy and Andrea, they’re our waitresses.”

Each of them murmured their greetings.

“This will be a trail run for the night, and then we’ll have to take it as it is afterwards.” Daemon turned to Candy and Andrea, “Remember to smile while the customers are ordering their drinks. If you have any problems, let me know. Try to keep the drinks at a minimum. I don’t want to be responsible for the drunks who get out of line.” Clapping his hands he turned to Steve. “If Jon falls behind, help him with the food, same goes for you Bob.”

“Okay, let’s open up on up to the public.” Daemon walked across the blue and white tiled floor to turn the lights on. His employees slipped off the bar stools. The three men made their way to the kitchen as Candy and Andrea slipped their pink aprons on. Minutes later, they were already getting customers. Daemon stood behind the bar filling drink orders while the men in the kitchen prepared the meals.

~ * ~

Megan sat alone in her apartment eating a frozen dinner while listening to the TV in the living room. Her chin resting on her palm, she watched a commercial for a product to quit smoking. “I should try that,” she muttered as she took in a long drag from a thin cigarette. “It’s time to quit.” Waving the smoke aside from her face, the telephone rang on the side-table beside her. Looking at the caller ID; she decided to let it ring. She wasn’t in the mood to go out with her friends from the station. She wanted to be alone.

Crunching the cigarette out in the ashtray she stretched out on the bed and closed her eyes. But she couldn’t get the image of the man at the bar from her mind. “Who is he?” she muttered. “How can this be? I thought he was only in my dreams and now he’s here in the flesh.” She thought back about when she began having those dreams about the man. A deep sigh escaped her, “Now he’s here? Why?” she whispered into the darkness of the room.

~ * ~

“Have you been to the new bar?” Leeza asked Megan the following day while they were in the snack room. Pushing two quarters through the slot into the soda machine she pressed one of the big buttons on the panel for her drink.

“No.” Megan sighed, tapping a file on her thigh as she waited for Leeza to grab her soda out of the bin. “You know I’m not much of a bar type.”

“Daemon’s isn’t much of a bar, really,” Leeza said as she opened the diet soda and took a deep drink. She started down the corridor and Megan walked beside her. “It’s more like a bar and grill. The food is great, unusual but great. From what I heard, he uses his own recipes.” She gave Megan a cheeky grin. “People are saying--”

“Leeza, a bar is a bar no matter what you call it.” Megan informed her, cutting her off before she could say anything further about the new bar in town.

“That’s the thing; it’s not a typical bar,” Leeza said, tossing the empty can into the recycle bin before turning to Megan. “You really should go; it’s the talk of the town. Besides, Daemon doesn’t let anyone leave drunk. As a matter-of-fact, he puts a limit on how much a person can order on the alcoholic beverages.”

“I’m not in the mood right now,” Meghan replied. “Are you still having those dreams?” she asked, concern evident in her face.

“Yes,” Leeza said softly, lifting a finger to twirl a lock of her blonde hair. “I’m not sure what they mean.” She was puzzled about her dreams and they were beginning to wear on her. She was beginning to have problems sleeping at night.

Turning away from Leeza, Megan stepped through the door to the outside. “They have to mean something.” She lit up a cigarette and took a long pull then let out a stream of smoke.

“I was thinking of seeing a psychic about the dreams but decided not to. I don’t think they’ll tell me anything,” Leeza murmured while following Megan out to the parking lot. Her gaze followed Leeza as she made her way to her parked Toyota a few slots over.

“They may mean nothing,” Megan muttered, stopping at her own Blue Toyota Tundra. Unlocking the door, pressing her hand on the edge she then turn to Leeza, “I didn’t mean to say that.” She took another deep inhale of her cigarette, “I’m sorry.” But Megan had a strong feeling the damage was already done when she spoke the words.

“I know and you may be right,” Leeza muttered softly, glancing down at the pavement between her feet. Not wanting Megan to see the hurt look in her eyes. “I have to go.” Leeza turned and quickly walked away from Megan. Climbing into her car and started the engine.

“Leeza,” Megan muttered with a strained voice. Watching as her friend sped away, she knew she’d hurt her feelings. Shaking her head as she tossed the cigarette on the ground, she stomped on it. Megan opened the door to the truck and climbed in. She leaned her forehead on the steering wheel with her eyes closed. How could she help Leeza? She had her own strange dreams and didn’t know how to deal with them. She sighed, wondering what she was going to do. Blinking her eyes open, Megan placed the key into the ignition and start the truck.

Pulling the truck out of the slot while looking over her shoulder, Megan watched Leeza leave the parking lot and turn down the street. Megan pulled the truck toward the exit and went in the other direction. She couldn’t help the feeling washing over her. She’d hurt Leeza’s feelings and needed to make it up to her.

“Maybe I should try the new bar and grill,” Megan murmured as she drove by the place, shivering. “I’m not sure if I can go. Not when... he’s there. The man from my dreams...” she muttered, shaking her head. “I should get a grip on myself and face him. I’m bound to run into him sooner or later. Besides, it’s not like he’s going to know I’ve been dreaming about him.”

Driving home in silence, she arrived without really knowing how she’d gotten home thoughts were so focused on the man in the bar. He was the same man in her dreams. She thought about what that meant while unbuttoning her shirt as she made her way across the living room and toward the bedroom in the apartment. After shrugging off the shirt when she entered the bedroom, she tossed it into the hamper then stepped into the bathroom. Dusk began settling over the valley when the water was turned on in the white shower stall. Tan pants were pulled off then Megan stepped back into the bedroom.

The feel of the soft pink carpet under her bare feet helped to ease the pain from the black, stiff shoes she wore all day. Peeling off her bra and panties, she tossed them into the hamper then turned to walk back into the bathroom. After letting the water warm up, she stepped into the shower to let the warm water ease the day’s tension from her body.

~ * ~

Daemon was standing behind the bar with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes darted back and forth, watching the patrons of the bar. Looking at each person carefully, he was looking for the woman from his dreams. The door to the bar opened and automatically his eyes flew toward the entrance.

He inhaled sharply. It’s her, he told himself. His eyes took in the dark-brown hair, her frightened brown eyes. His first instinct was to go to her, wrapping his arms around her. But he held himself back because of her frightened eyes. He didn’t want to startle her even more. “Just take it nice and easy,” he murmured, his head tilted to the side as he watched when she stepped further into the room. She found an empty table neat the door and sat down.

Andrea went up to give her a menu. She murmured something to the waitress. Andrea nodded her head and spun on her heels.

“I need a glass of water with no ice.” Andrea spoke rapidly and breathlessly.

“Anything else?” Daemon asked while his eyes darted back to the woman. His heart began to pound in his chest. She was sitting with a stiff spine. Daemon waved his hand over the glass, silently murmuring while his back was toward Andrea. He turned and handed Andrea the glass of water.

“She hasn’t ordered any food yet, if that’s what you’re asking,” Andrea informed him. Taking the glass from his hands, she went back to the woman sitting near the door.

“Thank you,” Megan murmured without bothering to look at the waitress. Wrapping her fingers around the offered glass then taking a sip. Her body began to relax when she set the glass down on the table. Her eyes took in he sourrounding while leaning back in the chair.

Her fingers tightening together on her lap as her eyes landed on the soft pink candle in the middle of the table. She reached out with a hand to pick up the candle, only to stop when she felt eyes on her. Her hand dropped back to the table when she turned her head. Standing behind the bar was him, the man from her dreams.

~ * ~

“What do these dreams mean?” Leeza spoke softly. Leaning her head against the cushions on the couch she closed her eyes. “I’m so damn tired of being haunted by them. I can’t help but wonder if they have something to do with my past. Why can’t I remember anything about my life prior to that day ten years ago when I woke up and had no idea who I was?” Blinking her eyes open she thought about Daemon, the owner of the bar and grill.

“I feel like I could be really close to him but he isn’t interested in a relationship with me, only friendship,” she murmured into the dark room with a pillow pressed against her chest.

A deep sigh escaped from her lips, “Maybe I should tell him about those dreams. Maybe I shouldn’t, no one seems to understand how I keep dreaming about a different world unlike ours and so many other things. Or maybe it’s from reading too many romance novels about far away places.”

Throwing the pillow onto the floor, she shifted her weight on the couch, with her arm tucked under her head to stare at the wall across the room. Her breath hitching in her throat, a tear slipped from the corner of her eye. Her fingers trembled as she wiped the wetness from her eyes.

~ * ~

“Daemon, there’s a beeping sound coming from your office,” Bob said coming toward him.

Daemon tore his eyes from the woman when she stood. He looked to Bob and nodded his head. It was the call for which he’d been waiting. “Watch the bar for me.” He tapped his hand on the other man’s shoulder before he stepped around him. He glanced over his shoulder when the woman stepped outside with the door closing behind her. Then he walked from behind the bar and into the kitchen.

Nodding his head at Jon and Steve, he passed by them to enter his office. The beeping sound grew louder when he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He went straight toward the desk to pull open the drawer after unlocking it. Pulling out a small hand-held device, he pressed a button.

“Did you find her?” Kosek’s voice spoke through the hand-held.

“It might be her, I’m not sure. She looks so much like Phania but she was going by the name of Leeza Gaillard.” Daemon had a strong feeling that Kosek was sighing with relief. “The strange thing is, she doesn’t remember who she is. She doesn’t remember her life before ten years ago.” Daemon informed him.

“What happened to her?” Kosek asked.

“I don’t know, like I said, she doesn’t remember her past life,” Daemon replied, tapping his fingers along the smooth wood desk.

“Keep an eye on her until I get there.” Kosek begged of him.

“Will do.” Daemon was about to terminate the call when Kosek’s stopped him with a sudden question.

“What about you? Have you found what you’re looking for on Earth?”

“I think so,” Daemon replied then terminated the call. A small groan escaped him when he stretched his arms over his chest. His arms dropped to the desk and he tilted his head back with his eyes closed. Pinching the bridge of his nose he groaned again. He started to rub the palms of his hands over his eyes and stood. His eyes glanced over at the clock on the wall beside the gray filing cabinets. It was getting close to closing time. Daemon’s was the type of place that didn’t stay open late. He didn’t need that kind of reputation for the bar.

“Let’s get ready to close,” Daemon told Jon and Steve when he stepped into the kitchen. Jon was busy washing the dishes while Steve was cleaning the grill with the spatula. Steve nodded his head as Jon did the same with his. Daemon stepped into the dinning hall and took note the waitresses were starting to clean the room. The patrons were paying their tabs and leaving. A few other people wandered in and ordered drinks and nothing else. Bob was busy cleaning the bar and stocking it.

Daemon’s eyes flew toward the door; the woman was standing outside along the curb with her arms crossed over her chest. He couldn’t help the feeling that he sensed, as if she was lost. Glancing to the waitresses and the few customers that were left, Daemon spun on his heels and went outside. He inhaled the fresh air when the door closed behind him and that caused the woman to turn toward him and stiffen when she saw him standing there.

“It seems like a nice evening to be outside.” Daemon muttered while his eyes held her brown ones. His fingers itched to run them through her soft dark-brown hair.

“It is.” Megan spoke softly while turning away from him. A soft breeze swept over her, causing goose bumps to appear over her bare arms. She began to rub her hands over her arms.

“Is it always like this before the fall season?” Daemon asked in a deep, husky voice.

“Yes,” Megan answered while turning back to him. “You’re not from around her? Your accent--” She stopped when she gazed into his deep green eyes.

“No, I’m not from around here,” Daemon spoke softly, taking a step closer to her, staring deeply into her eyes. He reached out to run his fingers along her face. “Who are you?” He muttered. Her breath caught in her throat, heart beating wildly,

“Megan.” A feeling suddenly came over her like she was drowning in his green eyes and that she was being swept into the stars shining above her. Lips parting with a soft sigh, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his if her life depended on it.

“Megan.” Daemon breathed deeply of her sweet essence. His fingers swept down her neck then slowly back up to her face. After a brief moment, he lifted his hand from her soft flesh only to tuck it into his pocket. Clearing his throat, he stepped away from her.

Megan glanced away from him and down the street. A dark-colored vehicle started up and pulled away from the curb. When she turned back to him, he was gone. She let out a deep shuddering breath and tucked her own hands deep into her pockets. She turned away from the bar and began to walk down the street toward her truck. “I should stop by and see how Leeza’s doing.” Looking up into the star-studded sky, she shook her head. She climbed into the truck and started the engine. Turning on the headlights she pulled away from the curb. Her thoughts were in a jumble as she was driving down the street. Her elbow rested on the door with a finger tucked under her chin. Thoughts were jumping in her head, going from Leeza to Daemon and back to Leeza A soft whimper escaped from her lips while running a hand over her face.

“I’m tired. That’s what it is, I’m tired. I’ve put in a full week’s worth of work and some overtime while I had to appear in court for traffic violations.” She let out another deep sigh. “I’m tired.” She shook her head when she pulled into the parking lot of her gray apartment building. Megan walked along the lighted cement path toward her apartment. The keys were in her trembling hand, trying to unlock the door.

Finally, it gave, causing her to stumble inside the apartment and closed the door behind her with her foot. Megan tossed the keys onto the coffee table and then walked across the light beige carpet and down the hallway and into the bedroom. She leaned her head against the door with her eyes closed, wondering what she should do now.

~ * ~

Daemon was sitting at his desk in the dark. He was staring at the wall with his eyes open, unblinking. A single name whispered through his mind, “Megan.” His eyes closed, searching her out through his inner mind. Finding her alone in the dark, sleeping, Daemon blinked his eyes open and sighed. Resting his hands on the desk he clenched and unclenched them. He stood then and walked out of the office and up the stairs to his apartment above the bar. Tugging the shirt over his head, he threw it on the floor. His fingers went to the fly of is jeans and unbuttoned them. He pushed the jeans down over his lean hips and legs. Slipping into his bed, Daemon placed his arms under his head to stare up at the ceiling. “Megan,” he whispered her name in the darkness of the bedroom. His vision blurred while he was inhaling and exhaling deep even breaths. His eyes closed as he slipped into a deep sleep.

~ * ~

Megan’s back arched off the bed, crying out softly. Her eyes flew open as she jerked herself into an upright position on the bed. A trembling hand covered her fast beating heart. Her eyes glanced around the bedroom. “The dream seemed so real.” Feeling tingles all over her body, sweat coating her skin, she shook her head as she lay back down and inhaled a deep breath then slowly let it out. Rolling over onto her side she checked the time on the small alarm clock on the night stand and groaned. It was only a half an hour before the alarm was to go off. Pushing the blanket to the side she stood. She arched her back before she turned to make the bed.

Her body was still shaking from the latest dream, it was different then the others. This one was more intimate, more intense. She ran a hand along her face before stepping out to the bedroom and down the hallway and into the bathroom. She needed a shower to wash out the fogginess of her brain and to stop her body from trembling.

First, she needed some coffee. Stepping out of the bathroom, she made her way toward the kitchen. She fixed the coffeemaker and waited for the coffee to brew while taking a mug out of the cupboard. She Poured cream and sugar into the mug just as the coffee maker gurgled out the last of the coffee. Her fingers trembled as she poured the brew into the mug then took a sip. Her fingers were still trembling as she reached for the first cigarette of the day and lit it.

“What does it all mean, those dreams?” she asked herself then let out a puff of smoke.