A group
of women have been the victims of some unusual thefts. They have had, not
items, but aspects of their physical being, such as their heights, builds and
youth stolen via dark magic. To stop the thieves and restore themselves, they
band together to defeat the loose confederation known as Eve's Thieves. To do
it, they must battle an ancient evil, deal with betrayal … and face the
darkness within themselves. But they soon find that little is as it seems. Can
they trust anyone -- even each other? Who is the leader of the group known as
Eve’s Thieves? What will it take to stop her … and will any of them survive to
do it?
Excerpt:
Nevaeh
was checking online for jobs, now that she was again able to enter the work
force, when her phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the
number, something she’d gotten in the habit of doing lately. There was one
frequent caller whose calls she no longer was taking. But she didn’t recognize
this number, and there was no caller ID display, so she answered. “Hello.”
“Hello,
Nevaeh? This is Linda Younger,” said the familiar voice from the phone.
“For
someone named Linda Younger, you sure sound like Wynda Dancer,” Nevaeh replied
flatly. “How are you, Wynda?”
“OK, I
guess. And you?”
“Fine.”
There was an awkward pause before Wynda said, “Peri tells me you’re not
answering her calls or texts — or anyone else's from the team, for that
matter.”
“What
team?” Nevaeh said. “There is no team. There’s only Peri and whatever version
of her plan is left now. And apparently that plan involves keeping secrets
within the ‘team.’”
“I know,”
said Wynda. “But lives depend on it, including yours.”
“And
Lilka’s?”
“And
Lilka’s,” Wynda said, swallowing hard.
“Well, I
don’t know how much she wants her life saved right now,” Nevaeh said. “I don’t
know if she’s going to make it as it is.”
Wynda’s
heart sank. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “How is she?”
“What do
you care? You’re dead, remember?”
“Nevaeh!”
Wynda shouted. “What’s wrong with Lilka?”
There was
a second’s pause before Nevaeh said, “You sent her some flowers just before you
‘died?’”
“Yes,”
Wynda said. “I needed to tell her, ‘I love you,’ and to try to encourage her to
stay with it. I tried to tell her what was going on without telling her what
was going on.”
“Well,
from what Maryska has texted me — she’s the one person in the ‘group’ whose
texts I’ve been reading, by the way — Lilka is in deep grief, and her mind
seems to have gone a bit over the edge. She does nothing but sit in the
apartment with the lights out and the curtains shut, listening to 3 Doors Down
and Chicago —”
“But she
hates those bands,” said Wynda. “Those are my fa— Oh.”
“Yeah,”
Nevaeh said. “She spends all day listening to your music. She’s taken to
wearing only black, and only outfits that have a pocket over the left breast so
she can keep your note over her heart. She even pins it to her nightie so she
has it there overnight.”
“But she
sleeps in the buff,” Wynda said.
“Not
anymore,” Nevaeh said. “Not if it means being separated from the last she has
of you. The only other thing she does is call Peri a couple of times a day,
asking when the next mission will be. It seems to be the only thing she looks
forward to.”
“Oh, God,
I wish I could tell her,” Wynda said.
“Then why
don’t you?” What’s the big secret? Why are you hiding this from people, and
especially the woman you love? I mean, look, I don’t get this whole ‘gay’
thing, but from what I saw before, you two really loved each other.”
“Love
each other,” Wynda corrected.
“Well,
you’ve got a funny way of showing it,” Nevaeh said. “And, assuming we all
survive this, how do you think Lilka’s going to feel when she finds out the
truth? Will she forgive you that easily? Will your love be undamaged? Will it
even survive at all? She’s wounded pretty deeply, in some of the worst grief
I’ve ever seen. How will she react when she finds out the hell she’s being put
through was all a lie?”
Quietly,
Wynda asked, “Is anyone with her?”
“Maryska’s
staying with her. I don’t think Lilka’d buy any food or pay the bills at this
point if someone wasn’t staying there. Maryska’s sleeping on the sofa. Lilka
goes to the bedroom at night and hugs your pillow — the one you used as a bed
when you were shrunken — to smell your scent on it so she can go to sleep with
a little bit of you.”
Wynda’s
lip quivered as she asked, “Why aren’t you talking to anybody, Nevaeh?”
“I
promised Peri I’d keep your secret,” Nevaeh said. “With the way I feel, the
only way I can do that is to not make contact. And, until this stupidity is
over, I want nothing to do with Peri. This plan is putting Lilka through hell,
and I can’t believe you’re a willing part of it.”
“Look, we
really need you for the next take-down,” Wynda said.
“Well,
you’ll have to do it without me. I’m out of the team until you stop putting
Lilka through this nightmare. Oh, and ‘Linda?’ I don’t want to talk to you
again. When Wynda Dancer is available, I’ll talk with her. Until then,
goodbye.” Nevaeh hung up without giving Wynda a chance to reply.
Wynda
sighed. She looked over at Peri, who had listened in on Wynda’s side of the
conversation. “Well, that could have gone better,” the former Olympian said to
the detective.
“Can’t
say I’m surprised.”
“Why are
we doing this again?” Wynda asked.
“You
already know,” Peri said. “Whoever the mole is, she’s feeding our battle plans
to Eve’s Thieves, directly or indirectly. My source says it’s direct. We need a
strategy they won’t see coming. They think you’re dead.”
About the
Author:
Mac Rome is a lifelong resident of the Great Lakes region
of the United States. He’s experienced life in the Appalachian foothills, along
the Ohio river and in the flatlands of the former Great Black Swamp, and in
large cities, small towns and rural areas. He’s a student of ancient lore and
mythology and a lover of cultural exploration, history and dialects. He writes
fantasy, science fiction and romance.
