Demon's Kiss by MAGGIE SHAYNE Page A

wooden fences, meadows, barns, stables—not an animal in sight, but plenty of room for them.
    â€œThis is a little place?” Seth asked, gaping at the back of Topaz’s head. “Your friend’s winter home?”
    â€œMmm-hmm. Cute, isn’t it?”
    â€œ Cute isn’t quite the term I would use,” Seth said. “Who the hell is your friend? Donald Trump?”
    â€œGod, no.” She rolled her eyes as if he were an idiot. “Sissy Spacek.”
    Seth thought he would be damned if he could tell whether she was kidding or dead-on-balls serious. It was impossible with her.
    Roxy pulled up to the front, passed the house and followed the strip of pavement to the endlessly long garage. “This is great. We can keep Shirley out of sight.”
    â€œA blessing all its own,” Reaper muttered. When Roxy shot him a sharp look, he went on. “Let’s find an empty spot and park this thing. No point in drawing any more notice than we have to.”
    â€œAll right.” Roxy looked up to the row of overhead doors on the six-vehicle garage and shrugged. “So, Monty, should I take door number one, do you think?”
    â€œWhat?” Reaper looked confused.
    Topaz said, “The doors are automatic. All the bays are empty, too—or all but one. She said something about leaving a car here for the season. There should be a remote…” She looked through the van’s side window, and then pointed to a plant hanging from an ornate wrought iron bracket between doors four and five. “There, in that ivy. Do you mind, Seth?”
    â€œHell, at least you got my name right this time.” Seth slid open the side door and got out, then took his first breath of Georgia air. It was potent. He could smell about a million flowers and then some. Sweet, sweet air. He went to the ivy, a ceramic pot overflowing with the stuff, and reached in, feeling around the moist soil until he found the small remote control. He picked it up and pointed it at the door closest to where Roxy and her van had come to a stop, then hit a button.
    The door opened, and the interior lights came on. “Nice,” Seth muttered. Shirley rolled inside as Seth stayed outside, pushing buttons, opening other doors, curious to see what was behind them. And then he was standing there, feeling a rush of something very close to lust, and staring at his dream come true—well, his second best dream, at least—and muttering, “ Damn nice.”
    The others came out to join him, gathering around, gradually picking up on his state of arousal and following his hungry gaze to where she sat, teasing him with the sultry expression in her headlights.
    â€œHoly moley,” Roxy said. “Is that a…?”
    â€œMustang,” Seth whispered. “Shelby GT.” He walked into the garage, moving slowly around the car, holding a hand out as if to touch it, but stopping short, not quite wanting to mar its gleam with a smudge. “Mint condition. Nineteen sixty-eight. I’ve never been this close to heaven in my life.”
    â€œOh,” Topaz said, “that’s the one my friend left here. She said I could use it if I want. Keys are in the house.” She wrinkled her nose. “It looks kind of old.”
    Seth swung his head toward her, gaping.
    â€œAnd that color. It’s like blood. Don’t we get enough of that?” Topaz shrugged. “Whatever. I suppose it’ll do.”
    â€œIt’ll do? ” Seth repeated. “That car is a freaking work of art. Do you have any idea—”
    â€œNot much legroom. We’ll be cramped in there if we all squeeze in together.” Topaz tilted her head. “At least it won’t draw as much notice as the van.”
    â€œPeople will fall on their knees in the streets and worship it as we pass!”
    Topaz looked at Seth, and broke into a full-blown smile. “You’re kind of cute, for an irritating