21. The Immortal Who Loved Me - Argeneau.pdf

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Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
About the Author
By Lynsay Sands
Copyright
About the Publisher
One
S
herry was muttering to herself as she worked. She hated doing taxes. She hated paying them even more.
Snorting with disgust as she calculated the amount of money she’d have to pay this quarter, she saved
the program and was about to shut off the computer when her office door burst open. Grumpy after her
task, Sherry raised her head, ready to rip into the employee who had barged in without knocking. But,
instead, the words caught in her throat and her eyes widened with surprise as she stared at the petite blond
teenager who rushed in and slammed the door closed.
The kid didn’t give her more than a passing glance as her gaze slid around the room to find the
window overlooking the store. The office was eight steps up from the main floor, so it allowed for an
eagle’s view of everything. On spotting the window, the kid immediately dropped into a crouch, and then
moved to it to poke her head up and peer anxiously out over the store floor.
Sherry’s eyebrows rose at the action, and she announced, “It’s a one-way mirror. No one in the store
can see you.”
The girl glanced around and frowned at her. “Shhh.”
“Excuse me?” Sherry said with a half laugh of disbelief at the sheer gall of the girl. Expression
turning serious, she said grimly, “This is my office, kiddo. I suggest you explain your reason for being
here, or get out.”
Rather than put the kid in her place, the words merely drew a full-on scowl from her as she turned and
then concentrated a pair of the most amazing eyes on Sherry. They were a strange silver-green and seemed
almost to glow with intensity.
Caught by those beautiful and unusual eyes, Sherry allowed her to stare briefly, mostly because she
was staring back, but then she arched her eyebrows. “Well? Are you just going to crouch there and gawk
at me or explain yourself?”
Instead of answering, the girl frowned and asked, “Why can’t I read you?”
A short disbelieving laugh slipped from Sherry, but when the girl simply stared at her with
bewilderment, she said reasonably, “Maybe because I’m not a book.”
That got no reaction from the girl. She still continued to stare at her, looking almost vexed. Tired of
thinking of her as “the girl,” Sherry asked abruptly, “What’s your name?”
“Stephanie,” the girl replied almost absently, eyeing her now as if she were a bug under a microscope.
That examination ended abruptly when a chime sounded from the speaker in the corner of Sherry’s office.
It announced that the front door of the store had been opened. Seeming to realize that, Stephanie whirled
to peer out at the store again, and quickly dropped back to her haunches so that only the top of her head
poked up over the bottom of the window ledge.
“I told you it’s one-way,” Sherry said with exasperation. “They can’t see—”
“Shhh,” Stephanie hissed without glancing around, simply raising a hand in her direction, palm up,
demanding silence.

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