Chapter Forty-Seven
Dominic Corisi
The mountains above Firebrook Valley
The one-of-a-kind, stealth aircraft descended onto the ridge like a shadow detaching from the sky.
Dominic’s engineers had taken the newest hybrid-electric tilt-rotor prototypes—the kind governments were still begging for test flights on—and scaled them up to his specifications.
Twin tilting nacelles, ducted electric fans for silent hover, and a hybrid turbine generator gave it heavy-lift capability without the thunder of traditional rotors.
The matte-black fuselage could carry a dozen passengers plus cargo, yet it set down on unprepared grass with almost no downdraft, its AI terrain system reading every root and rock in real time.
The side doors opened with a whisper. Dominic stepped out first, his pristine charcoal suit untouched by the mountain air, then offered Abby his hand.
She took it with the same delight she always had when he let her drag him into something wonderfully ordinary.
She was practically bouncing on her toes. “Thank you for doing this, Dom . . .”
He bent to kiss her gently. “If you want something, it’ll always happen.”
Her eyes lit with love for him. “Well, if I ever required proof that you love me, bringing me here is it. I know you don’t believe in things like oracles or healers.”
He smiled down at her. “More than twenty years together, and I’ve finally found a way to prove you’re my heart?”
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly as she murmured, “You’re my heart as well.”
Over her head, he motioned for the construction crew he’d flown in a heavier aircraft to seek out anything that needed fixing. He stood there a moment longer, simply savoring the feel of his wife in his arms.
A woman in simple attire, her gray hair pulled back in a loose bun, stepped out onto the porch. She didn’t smile. She looked them over slowly, noting the crew that was milling around the outside of her home. Her eyes closed briefly as if gathering her strength—or perhaps to build suspense.
When she opened her eyes again, he met her gaze and was surprised by how steady it was.
Dominic could make a president blink first. He had stared down cartel leaders who sweated through their suits.
This woman—silver curls, lined face, eyes pale with age—didn’t seem at all worried about his presence or that of the others.
Abby pulled back, noticed the appearance of the woman she’d come to meet, and smiled. “Hello. I hope it’s okay that we didn’t contact you before we came. We heard you don’t have a phone . . .”
“You’re wasting your time here,” the woman said in a voice that was surprisingly strong. “And I’m busy.”
Abby’s mouth rounded in disappointment. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She glanced at Dominic quickly, then back. “Could we help you with whatever you’re working on? Or with anything?”
There was no reaction from the older woman. The only sounds were those of birds and the men Dominic had brought as they put ladders against her house and began climbing them.
The woman sighed and rubbed a hand across her forehead. “Why are there men on my roof?”
Dominic responded. “We were told you require a service in lieu of payment.”
Abby placed a hand on his arm. “What he’s trying to say is we hope we’re doing this right. We should have asked if our team could work on your house. Do you want us to call them back?”
The woman rolled her eyes. “No, there’s been a leak since the last storm. I couldn’t find the cause. I wouldn’t be angry if they did and could resolve the issue for me.”
“Of course,” Abby nodded vigorously. “They can replace your whole roof if you’d like.”
Her eyebrow cocked. “You flew roofing tiles up here?”
“Not yet,” Dominic said as he typed a request for them into his phone. “But they’ll be here shortly.”
She pressed her lips together. “I’m not an oracle, and if there’s something wrong with either of you, you should know I’m also not a healer.” Her voice was flat and practical.
Abby’s hand laced with Dominic’s again and she whispered, “Should we go? I don’t think she wants us here.”
“My name is Dominic,” he said. “Dominic Corisi.”
“Is that name, or how you said it, supposed to mean something to me?” the woman asked. “My name is Evie. Evie Thorne.”
Dominic smiled at that.
Abby rushed to keep the dialogue going. “It’s so great to meet you. I’m Dominic’s wife, Abby. If now is inconvenient, we completely understand and can go. I’m so excited to meet you.”
The corner of the woman’s mouth curled slightly. Abby’s genuine warmth and interest in others made her difficult to resist. Dominic’s life since meeting her was evidence of that. Evie asked, “Why are you here? What do you want from me?”
Abby’s hand gently squeezed her husband’s. “Is it wrong to admit curiosity is what brought me here? You’re well known in the area. People say you’ve been healing and giving good advice for decades. They say you’re a . . .”
“I’m not anything.” Evie shook her head. “People would rather believe in magic than acknowledge their actions determine their situations.”
Abby laughed, delighted. “Oh, I wholeheartedly agree with that.”
Evie’s attention returned to Dominic. “And why are you here?”
Without missing a beat, he answered, “Because I love this woman, and where she leads I will always follow.”
Abby elbowed his ribs. “You’ve never followed anyone, not one day in your whole life.”
He chuckled and looked down into the laughing eyes of his wife. “Wait, I’m still in charge? That’s news to me.”
She playfully yanked his arm. “This pretense of humility isn’t fooling anyone.”
He pulled her closer and kissed the side of her head. “Maybe I’m mellowing as I age.”
Abby tipped her head back, gave him a long look, then hugged him. “No one believes that, but I love you anyway.”
Evie made a sound in her throat. “I don’t like strangers up here.” Both Abby and Dominic turned to face her. After a long beat, she added, “But I also don’t like people I know up here, and that never stops them from visiting.”
Dominic felt the corner of his mouth twitch. He hadn’t doubted for a moment that Evie would invite them inside. Abby could charm an angry bee into wanting to share its honey. Evie’s fate had been sealed as soon as Abby had decided to get to know her.
He didn’t regret agreeing to come. This Evie woman was an enigma. He studied her setup. “No electricity?”
“No need,” Evie said.
“No phone?”
Evie shrugged. “Does it require electricity?”
Touché.
“Is it safe for you to be up here, all alone—”
“If you add at your age, I will poison the lemonade I’m soon going to offer you.”
Dominic coughed back a laugh at that.
Abby smacked his arm lightly. “Stop interrogating her. And he would never say that.”
Evie looked Dominic over again. He kept his expression neutral, the same mask he wore in boardrooms and back alleys.
Pristine charcoal suit, Italian leather shoes that had never seen real dirt until today, and a wife in soft jeans and a sweater who already looked at home here.
He’d meant what he’d said about being willing to follow Abby anywhere she led, but mostly it was to ensure her safety.
He’d grown up in a household where he wasn’t strong enough to protect his mother from his father.
No one would ever hurt anyone he loved again—that was what motivated him.
He didn’t feel one way or another about prototype technology that had brought them to this mountain, but he prided himself on how safe Abby felt as she moved through the world.
Evie turned on her heel and said, “Follow me,” before retreating into her home.
Abby smiled up at Dominic. “We’re going inside! Isn’t she great?”
“Did you miss the poison part?”
“She was joking.” Abby stepped forward, tugging at Dominic to follow. “Healers don’t harm anyone.”
He reluctantly walked with her up the steps and to the door. “By her own words, she’s not a healer.”
Abby went up onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “And, if I asked you, you’d say you’re not a hero, but I know you too well to believe that. Now lighten up and let’s go have our fortunes told.”
“Didn’t she also say she wasn’t an oracle?”
Abby’s head tilted to the side as she stressed, “Isn’t that exactly what a real oracle would say? She doesn’t accept money. She doesn’t want fame. What more proof do you need?”
“Indeed.”
The inside of the cabin was . . . interesting.
Lit only by the sunshine streaming through the windows.
Clean pine floors, a woodstove that smelled faintly of smoke and fire, and shelves that ran floor to ceiling packed with glass jars of dried herbs, roots, and things he didn’t want to question the nature of.
Instead of photographs, bound plants hung to dry.
If he were writing a description of a witch’s house for a movie, even he wouldn’t have toned the scene down.
No jars of eyes of newt. Probably a good sign.
He hadn’t brought security since they were visiting an older woman, but he was beginning to wonder if he should have. The floor creaked beneath his feet as he made his way farther into the kitchen. It was also overflowing with labeled jars.
Abby was already seated at the table, eyes wide. “Your place is beautiful. It’s like stepping back in time. But nicer. And I love your lemon plants. How do you get them to grow? I’ve tried without much success.”
“I rotate them in and out of my greenhouse,” Evie said as she moved to the counter, filled a kettle from a hand pump, and set it on the woodstove. When she turned, she gave Dominic another once-over. “Tea? I thought you might like something to calm your stomach.”
Dominic’s eyebrow arched. “My stomach is fine.”
She shrugged. “Tension knots the stomach and stirs up the acid until it bites back. I’ll make you a chamomile and lemon balm. The chamomile quiets the nerves that wake the extra acid; lemon balm loosens the knot in the gut so the lining stays protected.”
“Is this part of your act?”