Familiar Strangers by Allie Standifer

not talking about that, and I don’t want to make money off you. I’ve enough to live on and buy the things I need. No,” she shook her head, looked right into Regin’s eyes, and held her hand up. “Wait your turn, young man,” she told Damon as she continued on.
    “Evil’s what I’m about. The evil killed you once, tried again a few years back. It only grows stronger with time. You’ve got to destroy it before it destroys you.” Taking a deep breath and ignoring her hostess’s shocked gasp the woman continued. “He doesn’t want you to find each other, but even more, he doesn’t want you to trust again. He’ll do, say, and manipulate whatever and whoever to stop you. You already know the truth of this. He’s haunted you with more than nightmares these past years. If he wins this time, it will be over for good. No more second chances. Don’t let him win, Cherie. You must stop him before it’s too late.”
    The woman whispered almost to herself. “Before it’s too late for all of us.”
    Damon was already on his feet, reaching a hand out to haul the old woman out of the cabin.
    Regin stopped him. “Wait.” Regin placed a restraining hand on his muscled forearm. “It won’t hurt to hear her out, Damon.”
    He glanced at her hand and then up to her face. “Duchess, you want me to sit here and listen to some flake talk about the moon over Pluto, rabbit cults, frog curses, old toe nail clippings mixed with chicken blood while dancing naked in the moonlight listening to Don Williams music?” He shook his dark head in denial. “No way, I’m not sitting here listening to you get bamboozled.” He turned on his heel to walk out the back door.
    The stranger’s voice stopped him in mid- stride.
    “Don’t you walk out on me, Damon Augustus Taylor Kiriakis. Your mamma told you ‘bout things not to be explained,” she raised one shapely arm toward him. “Most of all she taught you to respect them even when they tend to scare you. Besides, I don’t think you’d look so good dancing in the moonlight. Naked or not.” She finished with a soft chuckle before her eyes darkened. “And for your information, there’s nothing wrong with Don Williams’ music.”
    He was back at the table in a flash. His dark eyes hot with anger and the skin pulled tautly over his cheekbones, indicating his anger. “What do you know of my mother?”
    “Child, many things I know. But a greater number of things I don’t, except maybe your dancing.” She waved a hand again and sat back at the table as if this were an everyday occurrence to her.
    Damon stayed, but his pride allowed him only to move from the table and lean against the far wall and pin his coldest gaze on Caprice. “Fine, I’m here. Please continue, Madame.” He bowed contemptuously from the waist waving a hand toward her. “The floor is all yours. Dancing is optional.”
    Caprice smiled and said, “I truly pray to the Blessed Mother to be there when you finally remember you have a beating, pumping, working heart within your chest. That woman’s going to knock, not just your socks off, boy, but your pants and shirt, too. Just you wait and see.” She laughed as if she pictured some strange woman wrestling Damon out of his socks, shoes, and three-piece designer suit.
    When her laughter died away, her gaze locked with his. “She is going to despise you for everything you’re so darn proud of, for everything you think is so all-consuming important. The one thing she’s going to ask of you is the one thing you won’t know how to give. And it will cost her.”
    Caprice abruptly stopped speaking, remembering her audience. “Never you mind, Cherie, just remember Caprice tried to warn you.”
    With those vague warnings and a distinct dirty look, the dark Cajon woman turned her attention once more to where Regin sat. Regin suddenly realized her eyes were wide and her mouth gapped open.
    “Don’t worry, we gonna find out what the evil is doing this time before