He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t.

Clarice knew she had been refused, and she laughed an ugly laugh. “Bruno is a slug. He crawls out of the mud and consumes everything he touches, leaving only the memory of what once bloomed, and a trail of slime to mark his passing. If you ever hear me say anything less, you’ll know somehow he’s got his claws in me.”

“Is that what you fear?” Adam understood her in ways he wished he did not. “That he’ll gain power over you?”

“Yes.” She stood and with an audible flick of scorn, she said, “But as you said, Mr. Ramsdell, we’ll hope he doesn’t find me here.” As she strode away, her long legs stretched and reached.

Adam made a point of not watching. She was too young, he wasn’t going to help her, and he needed sleep. Mindless sleep that never ended. He dug for his wallet, flung cash on the table—and jumped.

Rune stood by the recently vacated chair. “May I sit?” she asked and sat.

“No.” How had such a large-framed woman snuck up on him?

She tsked and brushed at the air around him. “Your aura. Wisps of anger, guilt and frustration are working their way out like slivers of pain. You’ve been flushing your soul, I can tell. Like...floosh!” Rune vocally imitated a toilet.

Adam caught her wrist. “Leave my aura alone, and tell me what you want.”

“Let’s talk about the spring festival.”

“What spring festival?”

“The Gothic Spring Psychic Festival.” With her other hand, Rune made a final plucking motion near Adam’s right shoulder. “The GSPF is in three weeks, and our knight in shining armor canceled. He got hemorrhoids from the jousting saddle. We need you to step in.”

“You are kidding. Have you ever met me? You want me to clank around a festival in metal chatting up the tourists?” Adam dropped Rune’s wrist and stood. “I live below the road for a reason. I can hear the ocean and not my neighbors.”

“I need your help. Gothic needs your help.”

Adam debated. He really debated. But no character flaw dismayed him as much as his weakness for people he liked and respected.

He liked and respected Rune. He sat. “You’ve got five minutes.”

“You don’t have to chat up the tourists. In fact, the festival committee would prefer you didn’t go within ten feet of a tourist, and I know because I’m the head of the festival committee. What we’d like is for you to perform a sword demonstration. We know you can do it. We’ve seen you work out with what looks like a medieval sword.”

Unease prickled Adam’s spine. “Who’s we, and how have we seen that?”