The Awakening by Heather Graham Page A

woman.”
    Joseph shrugged. “Opinionated as all hell—and not at all averse to expressing those opinions, I guarantee you. But that’s okay. I think she means well—but she’s hell on me, and Morwenna. We love her anyway.”
    â€œWell, I’m forewarned. I’m going to have lunch with her and be the best I can be—Megan loves her a lot.”
    â€œThat’s true. Hey, need any help?”
    â€œWhat? No, I, sorry—all set. I was just replacing a string when I met Martha. We do a couple of things without the sound boxes. Guitar and voice, that’s it. Had a bad string. It’s all set now.”
    â€œHow long do you break?”
    â€œTwenty minutes.”
    â€œWhy don’t you come to our table? Get something to eat.”
    â€œWe’re already down to about thirteen minutes left, no time, but thanks.”
    â€œCome over to the table, order for Megan and yourself, and your food will be there for your next break.”
    Finn hesitated. Joseph’s invitation made sense. Meeting Martha had made him feel more comfortable. But now that she was gone, he felt the touch of a lingering sense of unease. He wanted Megan away from all these people.
    Stupid. People were being great. They were playing terrifically. It wasn’t even an old place, it was brand new. No ghosts. Just ribs, fries, steaks, drinks, dancing, laughing, a good old time. They were making great money. It’s what he had wanted. The college student working the register, Corey Vale, wearing a black cape over his white tailored shirt and jacket—the former looking like a garment required for his position at night during the Halloween season—had stopped by to tell him that he’d already sold a number of boxes of their CDs. He couldn’t have asked for better. Finn thanked him, and told him he was more than welcome to one himself.
    He wished to hell he wasn’t here.
    â€œFinn, you okay?”
    â€œYeah, Joseph, I’m fine, just thinking. Sure, I guess your invitation is a great one. Just don’t let them put our meals on your check—dinner for the two of us is part of the gig.”
    â€œDon’t worry. Morwenna has a talent for barely glancing at a dinner bill as if she couldn’t possibly conceive of a server making a mistake. But trust me—she reads it like a hawk in the two seconds she glances it over.”
    â€œTerrific,” Finn murmured. He stood, then hesitated again and tried to sound casual. “Who else is with you two tonight?”
    â€œNo one. Just Morwenna and I. We left the place with others tonight. They’re closing down and trying to set the shop to rights after so many people have been going through it handling everything. And hey—how’s the hand?”
    The hand hurt. Like hell. But Finn shrugged. “It’ll heal.”
    â€œYou playing okay with it? Dumb question—you sound great.”
    â€œIt’s just the palm. It’s all right.”
    â€œI’ll buy you a beer—unless alcohol is part of the gig?”
    Finn shrugged with a rueful grin. “Nope. You can buy me a beer.”
    â€œWe’re right over there.”
    â€œMegan’s on her way back here with something liquid at the moment. I’ll come as soon as she returns.”
    â€œShe can’t miss us—we’re on the way back to the stage.”
    â€œAll right, then I’ll join you now.”
    Finn set down his guitar. He followed Joseph toward the table, then found himself suddenly pulled back as if a giant hand had reached down to grasp him by the hair at the top of his head. He winced, pulling back, then swore softly as he saw that he had been accosted by the same stupid prop that had snagged Megan.
    Joseph must have heard his quick, startled curse. He turned back. “Dumb thing—I’ve seen people caught up by that monster all night. Here, I’ll give you a hand.”
    Finn didn’t