Page 43 of Unbearable Attraction
And judging by the Council's mixed reactions, that remained very much in doubt.
28
LEENAH
Three days after the ritual, Leenah was learning that sharing consciousness with someone came with unexpected complications.
Luka's emotions filtered through their bond at the most inconvenient moments—protective worry when she climbed a stepladder, territorial satisfaction when other men spoke to her, bone-deep contentment whenever she was nearby. His fourth cup of coffee concern was currently making her want to throw her mug across the kitchen.
"This is going to take some getting used to," she muttered.
Minerva's purr from the windowsill sounded suspiciously like amusement.
A knock interrupted her brooding. She swung open her door to three strangers whose formal dress marked them as an official delegation.
"Miss Carrow?" The speaker was an elegant woman with silver-streaked hair. "I'm Helena Cross, mayor of Moonridge Falls. We've come seeking your assistance with a supernatural crisis."
"My assistance? I'm just a ghost tour guide with some necromantic abilities."
"What we've heard," said the second delegate, a sharp-featured shifter in an expensive suit, "is that you successfully resolved a centuries-old spiritual crisis. You freed trapped souls while forging a new pact serving both living and dead."
The third delegate, a witch whose medallion caught the light, stepped forward. "Our town has similar disturbances. Spirits manifesting publicly, magical disruptions, increasing unrest among entities that should be at peace. We need someone with your expertise."
"Have you identified the source?"
"That's what we're hoping you can help determine," Mayor Cross replied. "We're prepared to offer significant compensation."
The number she quoted made Leenah's eyes widen. Enough money to fund research for years, to travel and document supernatural communities, to build the independent life she'd always wanted.
Enough to take her far from Hollow Oak. From Luka.
"You don't need an immediate answer," the witch said. "But we'd appreciate your thoughts within the week."
"Of course. I'll need time to consider."
After they left, Leenah stared at their business cards scattered across her kitchen table. Through the bond, she could feel Luka at the Council meeting—his worry about political implications, his determination to make their commitment work despite resistance.
Another knock. This time Twyla appeared with a bag of cinnamon rolls and an expression that was part concern, part curiosity.
"Saw the fancy delegation leaving," she said, settling at the table without invitation. "Judging by your face, they made quite an offer."
"They want me to help with spiritual disturbances in Moonridge Falls. For more money than I've ever seen."
"And?"
"And I don't know what to do with that." Leenah slumped into her chair. "Three days ago I bound myself to someone in ways I don't fully understand. Now opportunity shows up with an offer that would take me away from everything I just committed to."
"Sounds like you're looking for permission to run," Twyla observed bluntly.
"I'm not running."
"Aren't you? Big scary commitment gets complicated, suddenly traveling the world helping other communities sounds appealing?" Twyla bit into a cinnamon roll. "I've run this café long enough to recognize avoidance when I see it."
The accusation stung because it held truth. "It's not avoidance. It's practical consideration of opportunities."
"Uh-huh. And what does your practical consideration tell you about the bond?"
"That it's complicated. That I can feel his emotions bleeding through mine constantly. That I’m not sure how to be myself while being connected to someone else."
