Soul Whisperer by Jenna Kernan

for a stroll.
    The breeze off the bay was cool and damp, yet she didn’t seem to feel the cold.
    He took a hold of her elbow and moved in close to whisper in her ear. “The Skinwalker said you’re weak.”
    Her eyes flashed fire and he couldn’t hold back the smile at the indignation he saw there. He’d said weak and she did not like it.
    â€œWell?” he asked.
    â€œThe car then.”
    She had conceded for the second time and would be trapped in his vehicle. Was that why she wanted to walk, because she could escape him instantly?
    He wrapped an arm around her, tucking her against him while using his body to block the wind. She allowed it as she watched for his car.
    â€œWhat about the Figurehead on Pier Two?” she asked.
    â€œOverrated and too far.”
    â€œYou’ve never been.”
    It was more statement than question but he answered anyway. “No.”
    â€œPerfect.”
    His Cadillac pulled up and he motioned to his driver to get back behind the wheel as he opened the door for Bess himself.
    â€œThe Figurehead, Tommy.”
    â€œThe…yes, sir.”
    Bess smiled as she settled into the plush backseat.
    The lights from the street flashed over her face, revealing her beauty. She kept her attention fixed on the road and did not speak or look at him until they reached their destination.
    Once free of the car, some of the tension disappeared from her.
    â€œYou don’t like driving.”
    She got a wistful look in her eye. “It makes me feel trapped. I don’t own a car. Never needed one.”
    Because she could fly.
    â€œWhat’s it like?”
    â€œThere is nothing that compares to it.”
    Cesar thought that sleeping with Bess might be a close second, but he merely nodded.
    She turned toward the red-and-blue neon of the restaurant.
    You would never guess from her long, effortless strides that she had suffered a recent injury. He clasped her elbow, taking charge of her and controlling their pace if not their direction. She glanced at him and laughed, as if this were a game at which she excelled. Cesar took a moment to consider how many lovers she might have taken in all her years upon the earth and found he resented each and every one.
    When they arrived at the restaurant the hostess was polite but Cesar missed being greeted by name and being shown to his regular table. Bess asked for a water view and the hostess led them to a table before a huge bank of windows. The smell of garlic and cooking meat made him realize that he was starving. Bess stared out at the expansive view of the water. The lights of the Bay Bridge sparkled against the approaching twilight. He stood beside her for a moment then pulled out her chair. She graced him with a lovely smile that made his empty stomach drop several inches.
    â€œMay I take your coat?” asked their hostess.
    Bess slipped out of the black lamb’s wool. “I think I’ll keep it with me.”
    The hostess nodded. “Enjoy your meal.”
    They exchanged a look, and he smiled. It felt good to share a secret. He’d been alone with his own for so long.
    He kept his hand on the back of her chair as she nestled into her place. It was not until after she was seated that he realized the coat had vanished. On her wrist she now wore a new bangle bracelet sparkling with hundreds of tiny black crystals.
    Their waiter made his introductions, listed specials and handed over the menu and wine list. Bess studied her menu as if there would be a test later as the waiters circled the room, lighting small oil lamps on each table. They were early for the dinner crowd and momentarily had the room to themselves.
    Cesar ordered wine and afterward discovered Bess didn’t drink.
    â€œDulls the senses,” she said. “And I like my senses sharp.”
    The waiter returned with his wine, opening the bottle and offering a taste to him. He nodded and the waiter stepped back to take their