T*Witches 3: Seeing Is Deceiving by Randi Reisfeld, H.B. Gilmour

stalking her? Waiting to pounce? Could she read Cam’s mind, too? Most chilling of all, could there be a connection between Shane and Webb?
    Cam had arrived at the dance feeling like her old carefree self, surrounded by her friends, with a cute guy, looking good. Now, two hours into it, she was on edge.
    It wasn’t until the band launched into a raucous version of “Old Time Rock ’n’ Roll” that she went over the edge.
    Bam!
There it was: Her heart pounded, beads of perspiration broke out on her forehead, that sickeningly familiar icy chill swirled around her.
    Instinctively, her hand went to her throat. Her fingers found not the chain of her sun necklace, but the lariat instead. She whirled around, her back to Jason now. She knew who was the likely cause of her premonition, but had no clue
what
was about to happen. Only that it was bad.
    “Was it something I sang — off-key?” Jason leaned in close to be heard over the music.
    Turning around, Cam giggled nervously. “No, it’s just I —”
    He touched her arm. “Want to get out of here?”
    “— need to get some water,” she finished, feeling pulled, magnetlike, to the other side of the dance floor.
    “Want company?” he offered.
    “That’s okay,” Cam quickly dissuaded him. “Be right back.”
    Acting on pure instinct, she bolted to the far corner of the gym. There, the tallest of the decorative snowmen had been posted. Like a sentry keeping guard, it stood in front of the door leading to the equipment room. Without thinking, Cam brushed by the snowman and rushed through the door. It didn’t occur to her to wonder why it was unlocked. She knew: Whoever was after her would follow.
    “So, we meet again.
That is
Camryn Barnes.”
    His voice was light, teasing. He’d been waiting for her.
    She heard the door swing closed behind her and struggled to keep cool. “As if any of our meetings,” she responded, “have been exactly accidental.”
    Shane’s playful eyes glinted. “Accidentally-on-purpose, then?”
    Cam searched his face for a clue to his real identity — and his agenda. An unexpected calm settled over her. Her pulse slowed to normal; she no longer felt chilled. In fact, she began to feel a strange comfort in his presence.
    Then she thought of Beth.
    Cam stuck out her chin. No matter who he was, orwhat he wanted, she could deal. Even without Alex, or her necklace — without any word, even, from her protectors — she was no helpless victim. “What do you want with me, Shane? Were you sent here —”
    “To convert you?”
    For a second, Cam was confused. Convert her? To what? Was he talking about … Helping Hands?
    Shane laughed. “You can’t still think this is about… charity?”
    He’d tapped into her brain again. Okay. She could handle this. “So you’re a mind reader.” She shrugged and went all Shania Twain. “That don’t impress me much. What else can you do?”
    Shane said, “All sorts of things. Come with me and find out.”
    “Where?”
    “Coventry Island. That’s where we live.”
    “Where’s that?” Cam was interested in spite of herself. “I mean, is it on …” She wanted to say, “Earth,” but how dumb did that sound? “Is it a real place?”
    Shane laughed and his eyes twinkled. “It’s off the coast of Wisconsin, in Lake Superior. Real enough for you?”
    Go with him — to some remote island? Neh-
vuh
! She shook her head. “I’m here now, Shane. Or whatever your real name is.”
    “Actually, it is Shane. My parents were big Western movie fans.”
    “Fine, Shane. Whatever message you have to deliver, do it here, or forever hold your —”
    Something wasn’t right. Had the door behind her opened? Was Ms. Webb about to join them? Would it be two against one? Cam wished she had Alex’s hyperhearing! She listened harder, but now heard nothing.
    “Peace? Forever hold my peace?” he finished her sentence. “Interesting thing about peace. You might never find it, until you know who you really