CnC 4 A Harvest of Bones by Yasmine Galenorn

Delta Mae apartment building has been engulfed by flames. There are fifty units in that building, five floors’ worth, and the fire’s out of control.”
    I leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes. “Those poor people.” Then, realizing that every minute he stayed here kept him safe but put others at risk, I yanked open the door. “Go! And be careful, please. Call me when you get a chance.”
    He gave me a grateful smile. “You know how much I love you, don’t you?”
    Fighting back tears, I nodded. “I love you too. Just take care of yourself, Joseph Files.” I hastily planted a kiss on his cheek and he raced toward his truck. My heart skipped a beat when he stopped long enough to take a quick peek beneath it, then shot out of the driveway on his way to the station. There were so many reasons I loved this man.
    As I stood on the front porch, shivering, the kids came running up the street, both pale and with deer-in-the-headlights looks in their eyes.
    “What? What is it?” I hurried them inside and shut the door, latching it firmly. “What happened?”
    “M-m-m-mom … in the lot next d-d-door …” Kip only stuttered when he was frightened or terribly upset.
    I leaned down and put my hands on his shoulders, bracing him firmly. “Kipling, honey? Take a deep breath—shush. Breathe.” Randa was glancing back at the door. “What happened?” I asked quietly, hoping to hell that some pervert hadn’t moved into the neighborhood. Or maybe, they’d found Samantha dead on the road.
    Her voice quivering, Randa slid down onto the bench in the foyer. “Kip saw something next door. In the lot.”
    “You saw something? Something as in what?”
    She shook her head. “I didn’t see it, but Kip did.”
    “Lights,” Kip broke in. “I saw lights. Round balls of light in the air.”
    I was taken aback, I hadn’t expected to hear anything in that vein. Slipping on my jacket, I said, “Maybe somebody’s prowling around over there with a flashlight.”
    Randa shook her head. “Not somebody, mom. Something.”
    I gave him a long look. “You didn’t see anybody?”
    “No, just the lights. They’re all different colors.”
    Bewildered—we didn’t have fireflies in the area and it wasn’t the season for them anyway—I took a deep breath. “Okay, stay here. I’m going to go have a look. By the way, Joe had to go out on a fire. If something happens, call Murray.”
    I grabbed one of the flashlights and headed next door. Most likely somebody was just out walking his dog for the night, and had startled the kids, but I wanted to make sure that nobody was mucking around the foundation. I could easily see someone deciding to ignore the warning ropes. All it would take was one misstep and bingo—a broken neck from a nasty fall.
    The night was crisp, but judging from the clouds, the mist would rise before morning. In Chiqetaw, the streetlights were reminiscent of the gas lanterns that adorned street corners years ago before electricity and mercury vapor hit the mainstream. Modern in use, but vintage in looks, they gave the town a homey, cozy feel.
    As I neared the lot, the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck began to bristle. Something was out there all right. I turned off my flashlight and slowed. As I rounded the fence that separated my house from Joe’s new land, the clouds parted briefly, letting a bare glimmer of star-shine through. The moon was near dark, of no use in lighting my way.
    I squinted, searching the vague shapes and shadows, when a flicker of light caught my attention. Faint—so faint I could barely keep it in sight. One step at a time, I closed in, taking care not to go careening into the basement myself. The lights were a good twenty yards beyond the foundation, still out of reach, hovering in the last tangle of brambles we hadn’t managed to clear yet. As I moved closer, they came into focus. Whoa, Nelly. Kip had nailed it. Dancing lights, all right.
    The glowing orbs were about the