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By C. J. Barry


Chapter Two

T-Minus Five Days and Counting. . .

Lacey watched the clock on her computer flip from 11:59 PM to midnight with the kind of anti-climax that pretty much summed up her existence to this point.

"Happy New Year," she murmured to no one in particular. A blank Excel spreadsheet sat on her screen with the header, "Lacey Garrett's New Year's Resolutions."

She took a deep, slow, deliberate breath. It was time to get serious and set some goals. Specific, achievable and sensible goals in a logical order, just like a software program. If she followed the master plan exactly, she wouldn't take any more wrong turns.

So she flexed her fingers and typed, "New Year's Resolution #1: Rebuild career trashed by lying, stealing, scum-sucking, two-timing ex-fiancé/partner from hell, Robert E. Gwyn."

There. Definitely concrete and feasible. And she could almost type his name without twitching now. A definite improvement over the past two months.

Rebuild her career. How long could that take, she thought, considering she was completely broke with one tenuous programming contract to cling to. But if it was anyone's fault, it was hers for taking on an applications partner in the first place. Making him her fiancé was her second mistake. More followed but a woman could only handle so much humiliation in one sitting.

Besides, the career was the easy part. Re-inventing Lacey was going to be the real challenge. But this was a new start in a new place in a new year. She was finally taking control of the threads of her life.

Exit: Lacey Garrett, wishy-washy doormat.

Enter: Lacey Garrett, Warrior Programmer.

Speaking of which. "#2: Control own destiny and fight to the death anyone who stands in my way."

She smiled. Good one. Xena would be proud. What else could she do to stay out of trouble? Ah, yes.

"#3: When in doubt, play it safe."

She nodded firmly. No more taking chances, no more unnecessary risks. From now on she was going to think about her choices and after careful consideration, make the right decision. Her decisions, her way.

She startled as the window above her desktop rattled on its old hinges and the January winds of Virginia's Shenandoah Valley Mountains tried to come inside. The farmhouse shuddered around her and somewhere in the belly of the 100-year-old structure, the furnace cranked on with a low, prehistoric groan.

Bravely, she typed. "#4: Restore this old house."

Hmm. On the other hand, those four little words sounded pretty expensive for a woman with no savings account. And it wasn't like she was going to be here forever. Just until she'd regrouped. Yeah, the place needed work and hopefully someday someone would do it. Just not her. She was already on a mission.

She backspaced and re-typed. "Repair this old house so I don't freeze to death this winter." There. Much more manageable.

Her email binged. She pulled it up and saw a reply from Zainman, the same one who'd posted the URGENT: Can anyone read this? Need help. Please. message on the Tech-Nest board a few days ago. Normally, Tech-Nest was used by geeky programmers, and other faceless souls with no lives, to trade tips, tech updates and solutions. So it wasn't unusual to see HELP messages on a regular basis.

But this one was different. This guy included a series of jumbled images with his email. It had taken her a while to realize that the clutter was actually many layers dumped on top of each other, Magic Eye style. Besides some incomprehensible patterns and codes, one of the images looked exactly like the Stonehenge layout on the poster that hung over her computer. Lucky for Zainman, she had a strange fixation with Stonehenge.

So, being bored with the database work that she should have been doing to support herself, she dropped him an email and told him so. Day before yesterday. No reply. No, why thank you, ma'am. Nada. For a guy in trouble, he didn't seem too interested in her reply. Obviously, Zainman was a computer geek with no manners.

She opened his email.

Yes, that's perfect. When was the last time you looked at the stars?

"Oh, brother," she mumbled. What kind of reply was that? Stars? She'd probably hooked a Trekker. She really needed to stop hanging around with nerds.

She deleted his reply, re-opened her goals page and added, "New Year's Resolution #5: Don't talk to e-strangers."

Just as she finished, she heard Oliver meowing outside for at least the bizillionth time today. Lacey groaned aloud. Yup, she wasn't going to let anyone push her around—except for her cat. And technically, he wasn't even hers. Damn Robert. Not only had he dumped her, he'd ditched his cat too. Poor little Oliver. It wasn't like he could pick his owner. She, however, had no excuse.

Which brought to the most important resolution of all: "#6: Absolutely no relationships due to TSTL—too stupid to love."

She sat back and reviewed the list. Looked good. Yes, this year was going to be different. She was going to get it right.

Oliver yeowed again with real conviction and Lacey frowned in concern. He sounded off-key.

Floorboards squeaked under her feet as she walked through the dark house to the kitchen that led to the back yard. She muscled the outside door open and peered out.

In a clear, star-studded sky, a full moon poked through trees that swayed in the wind. Her aunt's house was a far cry from the city of Baltimore where she'd lived with Robert. She wasn't sure if she liked it yet since solitude and quiet were new concepts. But she loved the country air—crisp and clean and thick with scent. It smelled like freedom itself.

In a narrow shaft of light from the kitchen, the tiger cat sat in the center yard staring back at the roof of the house.

He meowed in her general direction and she rolled her eyes. Heaven only knew what he was looking at. Probably a leaf or something equally fascinating.

Grudgingly, she accepted the fact that she'd been relegated to a revolving cat door attendant and pulled open a drawer to find the flashlight. It teetered on its base and she had to prop it up with her knee. One of these days, she'd have to get the outside lights working again and fix this disaster of a cabinet.

The skimpy knit tank top and light pants of her pajamas did little to protect her from the cool winter night when she stepped outside to fetch her cat. Her slippers shuffled through a mat of fallen leaves. It occurred to her that no self-respecting Warrior Programmer owned a pair of fuzzy purple slip-ons. Next trip into town, she was going for the faux leopard pair.

"What's the matter with you? Didn't you hear me?" she said, picking up the ten-pound fur ball and rubbing her face against his soft head. "It's a good thing you're cute."

His little body tensed in her hands as she turned back to the house. She heard a hum above her and froze. Something was on her roof. She raised her flashlight to the 21-inch satellite uplink dish attached to the soffet. It was rotating around in complete circles as if trying to find a signal. She glanced to her bedroom window where her computer sat...alone and unattended. So why was the dish moving? It always pointed south, that's where the geostationary satellite sat in orbit. That's how she connected to the net in the middle of God's country.

Then she heard a low, teeth-chattering hum above her and she looked up into a million winking stars. Nothing unusual there so why was the hum getting louder and closer? A bass vibration buzzed her nerve-endings and made her ears ring. With growing dismay, she watched a big black hole glide by ever so slowly. When it was directly above her, a tiny light appeared dead center and as she gaped, it grew bigger. She froze in place, knowing she should run but too mesmerized to move. Then a blue beam blinded her.

The flashlight slipped from her fingers as invisible arms gripped her and threw her into a rolling vortex. She had the sensation of being stretched out but there was no pain, just a strange feeling of detachment. Far away, she heard Oliver's plaintiff meow and her own helpless cry. Lights flashed before her.

I must be dreaming, she thought, watching colors appear and dissolve before her. Fallen asleep at the computer again. Wouldn't be the first time. However, the out-of-body experience was something new. A rainbow of light exploded, flooding and overwhelming her senses. And as abruptly as it had started, she landed on her feet with a jerk. The world spun around her, focusing in a dizzy rush.

She breathed. Prickly warmth and pale beige walls surrounded her. Something smelled like it was burning. She hoped it wasn't her.

What the heck just happened? Oliver was in her arms and appeared perfectly comfortable. And she was still wearing her pajamas and sissy slippers.

But everything else had changed.

Her gaze traveled around the stone walls of a tall dome-shaped room. Towering arches formed doorways and between them, rows of images she recognized vaguely.

"How do you feel?"

The deep voice jarred her from any thought she may have been forming. Slowly and with great dread, she turned around to face the source. It was a man. A gorgeous man. The kind darn good fantasies were made of, in fact. He had chestnut hair pulled back into a short tail and piercing dark eyes like a black bear. He filled out a taupe crew-type shirt, tan pants and brown knee-height boots nicely with a body as broad and powerful as a Mack truck. Although he was smiling at her, there was something in his stillness, a glint of danger in his eyes that set him apart from any man she'd ever seen before.

And he stood there like he'd been expecting her, waiting for her and only her.

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