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wrapped around his heart like a vice. Oh, she’d be a challenge he’d relish. “Yes, I am trying to show you how special you are, but the other woman isn’t a threat.”
    “That’s what a player would say.”
    “Player? Now I am hurt.” Ryan spoke over his shoulder. “Come on out, Honey. I made a mess of things.”
    “I’m here to help you both.” Honoria stepped from the shadows. Her silver hair glinted in the soft lamplight and her blue eyes twinkled. “Listen to him, Sammy. He’s your Spirit Mate.”
    “Spirit Mate… Gramma ? Where did you come from?” The colour bled from her face and her eyes widened. “You—have you been here the whole time?” Samara scooted back in her seat, tipping the chair over as she scrambled away from the table. “Oh, my God…Ryan Black is the new man in your life.”
    Sidling up next to Ryan, Honoria threaded her hands around his biceps. “He’s cute, but he’s not my type. His hair’s too long.” She swatted his butt in more than a gentle shove towards Samara. “Then again, dress him in something from ’42 and we could strike a bargain.”
    Covering her face with her palms, Samara turned around. Her shoulders shuddered. “This cannot be happening. You said you liked a guy named Walter.” As Ryan reached out to comfort her, Samara whipped around. “I’ll leave you alone. You need privacy, not my intrusion.”
    Ryan snagged Samara’s arm as she scurried past him. “You’ve got it all wrong.”
    She froze, but didn’t cringe away. The muscle in her forearm tightened beneath his touch. “How? She’s got a set of keys to your car, your apartment. As twisted as it looks, she’s your girl.”
    “Sammy, child, calm down. Unlike most things in the world, this is simple. You have a gift.” Honoria smoothed the wrinkles from her shimmery blouse. “You can see me when others can’t.”
    “Of course I can. You’re my grandmother and a cougar.” Samara inched away from Ryan in the direction of the front door. “But I must be losing my mind because you just appeared out of thin air and have the hots for the guy I like.”
    Ryan’s ears perked. “You like me?”
    “Hush, Ryan. You aren’t my cub,” Honoria replied. She turned her attention to Samara. “I’m dead, little girl.”
    Steadying herself on Ryan’s arm, Samara swayed. Her face paled. “That’s not possible. We spent Christmases together. You made me dinners and showed me how to crochet.”
    “Sit down and we’ll explain everything.” Honoria’s voice dropped to a whisper. “But we have to hurry.”
    Ryan gathered Samara in his embrace and led her to a chair. She slumped forward and yanked the elastic from her hair. As she rubbed her temples, the curtain of chestnut and chocolate strands shrouded her face from his view. He dropped to one knee and brushed errant strands behind her ears, needing to touch her, to reassure her. The fragility in her eyes conflicted with the strength in her soul. The desire to question her statements crossed his mind. Samara said she liked him. The knowledge lightened his heart. He cast a glance at Honoria . Already she began to pale. Shit.
    “Sammy, look at me.” Honoria edged closer. “You can see the dead.”
    “Not possible because you’re not dead,” she replied without looking up.
    “I have been for thirty years, child, but you saw me because you can.”
    “How? It doesn’t make sense.” Samara squeezed Ryan’s hand as she brushed tears from her cheeks. “Why me?”
    “The women in our family have magic and we have Spirit Mates.”
    “Magic? Okay, yes,
Willow
and Jonquil have special down to a science. But me? I’m plain,” Samara whispered. “I can’t even do card tricks.” Ryan rested his forehead against her temple. Given ten more minutes alone, and he’d show Samara every way she made his heart race. Plain didn’t begin to describe her.
    “You’re my granddaughter and that makes you special. Your mother never embraced the gift so