March Forth (The Woodford Chronicles Book 1) by Deirdre S. Hopton Page A

eat.”
                  She looked at him, shrugged, and looked at the squares.  She pictured her usual mornings at home and, feeling a bit silly, put her hand on one of the squares.
                  A pack of Marlboro Lights, a lighter, a cup of coffee, and what appeared to be her cell phone appeared on the raised square.  They both stared at it for a brief moment before Deanna reached for her bounty.  Steven grabbed her hand, stopping her, and said, “Really?”
                  “I told you, I’m not a breakfast person,” she replied, sweeping up the cigarettes with her other hand.  “I usually have a cigarette and coffee and screw around on my phone for a few when I wake up, before I meditate and get started with my day.”
                  He shook his head in disbelief and grabbed the cell phone with his free hand, then released her hand.  “I’m afraid you can’t use this here.  No service, and we don’t need to be tracked.  But after I eat, I will bring you outside so you can smoke a cigarette. You really do have to eat, though.” As he said this, he put his hand on a square and produced a breakfast very similar to his own.
                  Deanna nearly forgot all of the hostility she had developed toward Steven in her anticipation of a cigarette.  “Thank you,” she said.  “I can’t tell you how much I would appreciate that.  I’ve been dying for a cigarette since I got here.”
                  “I used to smoke,” he said, with an air of confidence as he walked toward an unoccupied table.  “I gave it up when I joined the Navy.  Well,” he said thoughtfully as he pulled out a chair and sat down, “I still have one every now and again.   Mostly if I’m drinking.  Not that I’ve had a chance to do that for over a year now.”
                  “Why?” Deanna asked.
                  “I’ve been on assignment,” he replied.
                  “Looking for this David Carver guy?”
                  Steven’s spine straightened and he looked tense for a moment, then gave a perfunctory nod.  He shoveled food into his mouth; Deanna assumed he was trying to avoid further conversation.  She felt like she was learning more about her captors by the second, though.  She now knew that Steven, at least, was in the Navy, even though Larsen had said the day before that they were not.  She wasn’t sure if that information was important, but at least she had learned something.
                  Excited by the possibility of an imminent cigarette, she dug into her breakfast.

Steven
     
                  Steven was finding Deanna remarkably easy to talk to.  Almost too easy; he wasn’t sure he should have admitted he had been on assignment looking for Carver.  He had not yet conferred with Larsen to ascertain what he was or was not allowed to tell her.  It had been a long time since he had been in casual conversation with a woman, though, and he realized his guard was down.  He filled his mouth with food to prevent himself from blurting anything else out without thinking.
                  As he chewed, he looked Deanna over.  For the first time, he was looking at her as a woman rather than a test subject.  He had to admit, she was really pretty.
                  “So tell me about yourself, Deanna,” he said lightly after he watched her eat for long enough that he was starting to feel awkward.  “What do you do when you’re not hanging out in libraries and violating laws of magic?”
                  She studied his face for a second, as if she were trying to figure something out, before answering, “Little of this, little of that.”
                  “There were a lot of paintings in your apartment.  Do you paint?”
                  She shrugged a shoulder and said, “I