The Sign of Seven Trilogy by Nora Roberts

out of a plane with a handful of red balloons. But this…I can’t say I got a charge out of it. I didn’t just think I felt cold, for instance. I was cold. I didn’t just think I felt myself hit and roll on the ground. I found bruises this morning that weren’t there when I went to bed. Fresh bruises on my hip. How do you get hurt in a dream, if it’s just a dream?”
    You could, he thought, in Hawkins Hollow. “Did you fall out of bed, Quinn?”
    â€œNo, I didn’t fall out of bed.” For the first time, there was a whiff of irritation in her voice. “I woke up with my arms locked around the bedpost like it was my long-lost lover. And all this was before I saw that red-eyed little bastard again.”
    â€œWhere?”
    She paused long enough to spoon up some cereal. He wasn’t sure if the expression of displeasure that crossed her face was due to the taste, or her thoughts. “Did you ever read King’s Salem’s Lot ?”
    â€œSure. Small town, vampires. Great stuff.”
    â€œRemember that scene? The little boys, brothers. One’s been changed after they snatched him off the path in the woods. He comes to visit his brother one night.”
    â€œNothing scarier than kiddie vampires.”
    â€œNot much, anyway. And the vampire kid’s just hanging outside the window. Just floating out there, scratching on the glass. It was like that. He was pressed to the glass, and I’ll point out I’m on the second floor. Then he did a stylish back flip in the air, and poofed.”
    He laid a hand over hers, found it cold, rubbed some warmth into it. “You have my home and cell numbers, Quinn. Why didn’t you call me?”
    She ate a little more, then, smiling at Meg, held up her cup for a top-off. “I realize we’re dating, Cal, but I don’t call all the guys I go bowling with at three thirty in the morning to go: eek! I slogged through swamps in Louisiana on the trail of the ghost of a voodoo queen—and don’t think I don’t know how that sounds. I spent the night, alone, in a reputedly haunted house on the coast of Maine, and interviewed a guy who was reported to be possessed by no less than thirteen demons. Then there was the family of werewolves in Tallahassee. But this kid…”
    â€œYou don’t believe in werewolves and vampires, Quinn.”
    She turned on the stool to face him directly. “My mind’s as open as a twenty-four-hour deli, and considering the circumstances, yours should be, too. But no, I don’t think this thing is a vampire. I saw him in broad daylight, after all. But he’s not human, and just because he’s not human doesn’t make him less than real. He’s part of the Pagan Stone. He’s part of what happens here every seven years. And he’s early, isn’t he?”
    Yeah, he thought, her mind was always working and it was sharp as a switchblade. “This isn’t the best place to go into this any deeper.”
    â€œSay where.”
    â€œI said I’d take you to the stone tomorrow, and I will. We’ll get into more detail then. Can’t do it today,” he said, anticipating her. “I’ve got a full plate, and tomorrow’s better anyway. They’re calling for sun and forties today and tomorrow.” He hitched up a hip to take out his wallet. “Most of this last snow’ll be melted.” He glanced down at her boots as he laid bills on the counter to cover both their tabs. “If you don’t have anything more suitable to hike in than those, you’d better buy something. You won’t last a half mile otherwise.”
    â€œYou’d be surprised how long I can last.”
    â€œDon’t know as I would. I’ll see you tomorrow if not before.”
    Quinn frowned at him as he walked out, then turned back as Meg slid her rag down the counter. “Sneaky. You were right about