2

      ABOVE THE NOISE of the manhole cover clattering to the street, Lukas heard another sound. High-pitched. Like a woman’s squeal.

      “Did you hear that?” he asked the big orange tabby cat that was tucked under his arm. The cat flattened its ears and growled. Lukas let go of it and it shot off into the darkness. He hoisted himself out of the manhole and looked around.

      The night was clear and crisp, the sky thick with stars. He turned slowly around, trying to remember what he’d learned as a kid about astronomy. All he remembered was that nothing looked like it was supposed to. The names made no sense to him at all. Except maybe the Big Dipper. He could always find that. Tonight it seemed full of stardust.

      “You’re getting fanciful, Lukas. You better watch that,” he muttered to himself as he dragged the manhole cover back into place. He straightened up and that’s when he saw it. Something lying in the street. Something as bright and shimmery as a heap of stardust fallen from the sky.

      When the heap of stardust moaned and shifted slightly Lukas went closer and found himself looking down at the body of Gillian Caine.

      He sucked in his breath, then hunkered down next to her. “Gillian,” he said softly, touching her on the shoulder. She didn’t move. He found the pulse in her neck with his fingers. Oh man, was she soft. And her heart felt like it was beating pretty good, too. She moaned again and he snatched his fingers back. Her eyes stayed closed so he touched her hair for no good reason at all except that, there, just outside of the circle of light from a street lamp, it looked like it was shot with silver. She moaned again and her lashes fluttered.

      “Gillian?” he repeated.

      She smiled a little this time. A small, sweet smile. In fact, the princess looked altogether sweeter when she was passed out cold than she had when he’d seen her that afternoon.

      She was wearing a pale dress made of something silky. It floated around her, settling in the swells and hollows of her body, and fluttered out around the curves of her calves. Her shoes were worthy of a princess, too. Glittery silver with tiny straps and skinny heels that were made out of something as transparent as glass.

      “Gillian?” Still no response. He frowned. Shouldn’t she be coming to by now? He looked around the street. All the buildings were dark. Even the windows above Sweet Buns where his sister lived were dark. Molly must have already gone to bed. Timber Bay Memorial was only a mile or so down Ludington Avenue. Lukas figured he could get Gillian to the hospital himself in less time than it would take him to rouse Molly, use her phone, then wait for an ambulance to come.

      Carefully he started to gather Gillian up in his arms. She felt so small. A wounded helpless creature. As he started to lift her, his nose brushed her neck. The scent of her shot through him like a craving. The urge was strong to bury his face in the soft crook of her neck. Just for a moment, he told himself.

      “Who are you and why are you sniffing my neck?”

      Lukas pulled his head back quick enough to give himself whiplash. He knew his face must be flaming.

      “Lukas McCoy,” Gillian mumbled fuzzily. “I should have known.” She looked around, still obviously in a daze. “What am I doing in the middle of the road?”

      Before he could answer, she started to get up and moaned loudly.

      “Ohh—my arm. What happened?”

      “Near as I can tell, you must have been standing on that manhole cover over there when I—”

      Gillian gasped. “Now I remember! You were that beast who came up out of the concrete and sent me sailing into the air, aren’t you? What is it with you McCoys, anyway?”

      “What does that mean?”

      She shook her head. “Oh, never mind. Just help me up.”

      Lukas helped her struggle to her feet.

      “What were you doing, anyway?” she asked. “Lying in wait, hoping to get a second chance after your earlier attempt at crippling me failed?”

      “Hey—that was an accident,” Lukas said a little bluntly—more bluntly than he should have. The bright idea of Gillian Caine being wounded and helpless was definitely losing its shine.

      “Tell that to the thousand-dollar pair of boots you ruined. And I suppose this was an accident, too. Just you crawling out of the sewer after a day of Dungeons and Dragons?”

      “I was down in the tunnel of love to—”

      Gillian shot him a sharp look with those huge gray eyes. “The tunnel of what?” she asked him, scrunching up her nose. “Did you say the tunnel of love?”

      Lukas hadn’t meant to say that. He felt foolish enough for knocking her flying and the knowledge that he’d wrecked a thousand bucks’ worth of leather wasn’t sitting too well, either. He didn’t relish the idea of trying to explain the legend of Timber Bay’s tunnel of love to the princess when she was acting more like the wicked queen. “Look, maybe we better see about getting you to a doctor,” he said as he took her gently by the other arm.

      “I don’t need a doctor,” she said, pulling away from him and jostling her wounded arm in the process. “Ow!” She grimaced. “Okay, maybe I do need a doctor.”

      “My truck is right across the street. I’ll take you.” Lukas didn’t know much about body language, but Gillian made it clear she didn’t want his help getting across the street. It was kind of amazing, really, he thought as he followed her to the truck, that she could walk like she did on a pair of heels like that after she’d just been out cold. She made it look as if balancing on three inches of acrylic was the most natural thing in the world.

      He opened the door for her and tried to help her in, bumping her shoulder in the process.

      “Ow!” she said again, as she shot an angry wounded look at him with those big gray eyes.

      “Sorry,” he said as he dipped his head. “I guess I can be kind of a bull in a drugstore.”

      “China shop,” she said.

      “Huh?”

      “Bull in a china shop. You said drugstore.”

      “Oh—that’s because when I was twelve I was kind of big for my age and there was this sort of pyramid of perfume bottles stacked up on the counter at Ludington Drugs and one day I went charging right into them, breaking every last one. The whole town square smelled like lavender water for a week. Ever since then—” He gulped, wishing he’d stayed tongue-tied. She was looking at him like he’d gone around the bend. Which he must have because here he was standing in front of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and rattling on about his damn clumsiness after he’d just given her a demonstration of it by busting up her arm.

      “Look,” she said. “I’m sure this folksy charm works on all the local girls, but I’ve got the disadvantage here of being in pain. Let’s save your life story for after I’m medicated, okay?”

      Lukas clamped his mouth shut and managed to help her up into the truck and shut the door without jostling her again. When he went around to the other side and got in, the cab was already full of the scent of her skin. It tied his tongue up all over again. Good thing, too. Otherwise, the big-city princess might have managed to bite it the rest of the way off.

      GILLIAN