Kismet Knight, Vampire Psychologist 3 - Dark Harvest by Lynda Hilburn Page A

The elusive boyfriend explained a lot.
    “Well, it’s not out of the realm of possibility, but I seriously doubt it. He doesn’t live in Denver and I never know when he’s going to show up. But we make up for it with great phone sex.”
    “Well, then.” I laughed. “It sounds like the perfect modern relationship to me.”
    She smiled. “Yeah, but sex is certainly more fun when he’s actually in the room with me.”
    Appreciating the truth of that statement, I grinned and stared out the window at the full moon, wondering where my sex object was. It was probably better that I didn’t know, though, since I was sure he’d be angry that I’d fled protective custody. I swiveled my head to glance behind me, just to make sure he hadn’t materialized. I never knew where he’d turn up. Devereux could literally be anywhere in a multitude of universes and still show up in a heartbeat to surprise me. And the ease with which I contemplated that bizarre thought made me shake my head. How weird was it that my vocabulary now included words like parallel dimensions, simultaneous existence, auras, etheric bodies, and Merlin, of all things.
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    Leave it to me to fall for a guy whose mother was an apparition and whose extended family included a famous, ancient wizard. I’d recently realized that I’d stopped labeling Devereux’s vampirism as the strangest thing about him. I hadn’t exactly gotten used to it, but in the midst of all his other disturbing tendencies, blood drinking didn’t rate very high on the fright meter anymore. Amazing, what one can acclimate to. Especially when it was linked with great sex.
    I roused myself from my daydream and noticed we’d traveled away from the lights of the downtown area. We probably hadn’t been driving that long, but I’d lost track of time. “Where the hell is this place?
    Kansas?”
    “Nope.” She chuckled. “We’re still in Denver. I took a back route so nobody would see us arrive. Here we are.”
    She angled the car off the road, edged it between two rows of trees, and killed the engine.
    I leaned forward and peered through the windshield. Thanks to the lunar illumination, it was easy to see in the dark. I pointed. “What is this place? That rickety thing looks like … it looks like some old roller coaster or something.” I swiveled my head toward Maxie. “This is where we’re going? An abandoned amusement park?”
    “Bingo, Doc. I don’t know how long you’ve been in Denver, but the fire that destroyed half of this place was the talk of the town. It was arson. We wouldn’t have our fancy new, state-of-the-art tourist trap downtown if the little pyromaniac bugger hadn’t torched this one. And are you ready for this? The jerk set the fire because he was a pyromancer.”
    I frowned. “A what? I’m not familiar with that term.”
    Maxie nodded. “A pyromancer. Somebody who reads the future by interpreting flames. This is right up your alley, actually. At his trial, the little creep testified that the voices in his head told him to barbecue the whole park so he could write his own book of future predictions like Nostradamus. There’s an asshole born every minute. Come on. Let’s collect supplies.”
    She opened her door, stepped out, and quietly pushed it closed. I followed her example and tiptoed around to the back of the Jeep.
    “Are you sure this is where the thing is happening?” I glanced around. “I don’t see anybody. It’s so quiet.”
    She popped open the plastic flap covering the rear window and peeled it back, flopping it up on the roof. “Shhhh. We’re on the other side of the park, but you never know who’s lurking.” She pointed to a bent, broken chain-link fence. “We’ll be crawling in under that fence and skulking around, on the lookout for a good place to observe.” She studied my clothes, her lips pursed. “The jeans, sweater, and hiking boots are