Moonshadow (Moonshadow #1)

The hostess checked the computer screen, and her expression changed. In a much friendlier voice, she said, “Very good. Please follow me.”

Kathryn Shaw’s name had clearly pushed Sophie over some invisible line into acceptability. Mouth tilting in a sour slant, she followed the hostess to a quiet booth located in a corner where a woman waited.

As Sophie and the hostess approached, the woman slid to her feet with cool, liquid grace. Smiling, she held out her hand. “Sophie Ross? How nice to meet you.”

“Dr. Shaw.” As they shook hands, Sophie sized up the other woman quickly and without being as obvious as the hostess had been.

Kathryn Shaw was not quite what she had expected. The other woman was lightly tanned and had a tall, fine-boned figure, golden-brown hair that streamed in an elegant straight fall to her shoulders, large intelligent eyes, and the kind of poise that came from education, money, and knowing her worth in the world. She had good, sensitive hands, a firm grip, and immaculately tended fingernails. A hint of Power, well contained and as honed as a scalpel, clung to her figure like an expensive perfume.

Kathryn’s cool, sleek sophistication was almost the antithesis of Sophie, who stood several inches shorter. Sophie’s pale skin never tanned, her body tended to curve at breasts and hips, and her thick black hair had a mind of its own.

After trying one short, disastrous haircut that made her look like a twelve-year-old with cowlicks, she had learned to keep her hair long enough so the weight straightened out some of the unruliness. That way she could at least braid or pin it out of the way.

At the moment, the knot at the nape of her neck had loosened as she had walked from the car to the restaurant, and it now fell in loose waves down her back. Her fingernails were no-nonsense and not nearly as well tended as the other woman’s. She had clipped them herself yesterday.

At first glance, it wasn’t obvious that Kathryn Shaw was Wyr, but then the muted lighting in the restaurant hit her just right, and her eyes flared with a golden reflection. Sophie guessed the other woman was not just Wyr but possibly some kind of avian. It would fit, with her narrow bone structure and build.

“Please, have a seat,” Kathryn said.

Sophie slid into the opposite side of the booth.

The hostess took their drinks order and left them with menus. Sophie ordered coffee. Coffee coffee coffee. After everything that had happened, she wanted to fall into a cup and bathe in it.

Kathryn set her menu aside without looking at it and folded her beautiful hands on the table. “Thank you for coming. I half expected you to not show up.”

“I thought about it,” Sophie admitted. “But then curiosity got the better of me.”

A serious flaw, curiosity. It had gotten her into trouble before. She devoutly hoped the flaw wouldn’t turn fatal.

Violent images threatened to surface. This time the images were not divination but memory, and her body reacted in response, the ghost of pain pulsing in three spots again.

She thrust it aside. No vital organs had been damaged, and the pain was getting better every day. Focusing on the present, she added, “After all, you were tenacious enough.”

Kathryn grinned. “Tenacity is a bad habit of mine.”

Sophie’s grin turned wry. “I was just thinking the same thing about me and curiosity.”

The other woman laughed, her fine-boned face opening like a flower. “And so here we are.”

“Yes.” Despite keeping her barriers up, Sophie found she liked Dr. Kathryn Shaw. Out of sight, she laced her hands together in her lap and clenched her fingers tight.

Their waitress came, brought their drinks, and introduced herself. After a short discussion about the day’s specials, they ordered lunch.

Gripped by nerves and wariness, she ordered the first thing she saw when she opened the menu, a simple chicken-and-mango salad. When the waitress left again, she cradled her coffee cup and took her first sip of the fragrant, dark liquid. It was excellent, with a smooth, roasted flavor.

She cleared her throat. “Perhaps now you can tell me what brought you all the way from New York. Especially since I threw away your letter and never responded to your first two phone calls.”

She had, in fact, been convinced that Kathryn’s letter had been a scam until the other woman had left a third message at the LA precinct where Sophie did consulting work.

Angry and disturbed at the intrusion into her life, Sophie had one of her department buddies, Rodrigo, run a background check on the caller, which was when she discovered that Kathryn Shaw really was a prominent, respected New York surgeon.

Only then did she return Kathryn’s phone call. As guarded as Sophie had tried to be, Kathryn had dropped too many lures in front of her, offering at least one or two answers about her past. It proved impossible to resist. After talking for several minutes, Sophie had finally agreed to meet her in person.

Sophie had been adopted into a family of witches, and her past was a blank slate before she was five. She had no early childhood memories and no knowledge of where she had come from.

The details of her adoption had offered no clue either—after she had turned eighteen and accessed her records, she had done some cursory research on the names in her file, but the research had led nowhere. Either her parents had long since vanished, or the names given when she had been surrendered to the authorities had been false.

Kathryn hesitated, her calm, intelligent expression assessing. Then she reached into her large leather purse and drew out a few manila files. “First I need to put everything I’m about to say into context with a little history. My late father was the Earl of Weston, Francis Shaw.”

Sophie’s attention lingered on the files while her old pal curiosity reared its head again. “An earl—an English earl?”

“Yes.”

“Does that make you titled as well?” Her knowledge of English titles was almost nonexistent.

Kathryn shrugged. “It does. I’m a countess, but I’ve lived in the States for so long I never use it. I’ve become very American. The most important title to me is doctor because that’s the one I earned.” She set the manila folders on the table. “My father was a unique man and very dedicated to certain causes. Some time ago—decades, really—I came to the States to attend medical school, and I chose to settle in New York. One of the causes my father was dedicated to was the British government. We did not see eye to eye on my choice of domicile.” One corner of Kathryn’s mouth lifted briefly, a bittersweet, affectionate expression.

Fascinated and somewhat envious of the other woman’s obvious sense of loss, Sophie looked down at the table. Clearly Kathryn had loved her father deeply. What would it be like to have family you loved that deeply? And who loved you just as deeply in return?

Carefully she adjusted her coffee cup in its saucer. “He’s deceased?”