A Glimpse of the Dark Side: Adult Paranormal Erotic Romance Collection Read Online Free PDF

the
armchair.
    Agent Talbot opened the door. She glanced at
January, then at Agent Sterling. "The Morgans are expecting us,"
she said. "You guys ready to work?"
    January grabbed her jacket and purse. She was
sure the other woman was staring at her tear-stained eyes, and
sensing her nervousness. If Agent Talbot gave any sign of noticing
anything amiss, she was too graceful to show it.

Chapter Seven
    THE MORGANS LIVED in a pretty neighborhood full
of tall trees and clean, brightly colored houses. As they drove
down the street, January watched children playing in driveways,
shooting basketballs, and rolling down the sidewalks on tricycles.
It reminded her of her hometown.
    Mr. and Mrs. Morgan opened the door together
when Agent Talbot rang the doorbell. They seemed nervous, but
collected.
    "Please, come in," Mrs. Morgan said. She showed
them into the living room.
    Mr. Morgan was a silver-haired gentleman of
around fifty. Mrs. Morgan seemed quite a bit younger than he, a
quick, garrulous woman with a small face and lively blue eyes. They
were very anxious to meet January, hoping she could really help the
cops find their daughter. She thanked them and left most of the
talking to the agents. She was starting to get nervous that she
would not be able to help them; or worse, that she would, and what
this would mean for their only daughter. She was also still shaken
by the episode at the hotel with Agent Sterling. She tried to calm
herself so she could do her best.
    "If you don't mind," Agent Sterling was saying,
"we'd like to get started, and give January a chance to do her
work."
    January turned to the Morgans. "Mr. Morgan, Mrs.
Morgan, I want to do whatever I can to help you. You don't know how
badly I want to be able to find your daughter. But there's
something you must know. When I'm able to see the victim, it means
that they have already... gone. You must be prepared for that
possibility."
    Mr. Morgan put his arms around his wife, and
they glanced at each other. Mrs. Morgan had tears in her eyes.
    "I understand, and I thank you for being honest
with us. But all we have now is hope, and you're part of that hope.
Of course, we want our daughter back alive and well. But if it's
not meant to be, I won't be able to stand it if she's out there
somewhere and we never find her. So anything that you can do is
greatly appreciated."
    January nodded. "I'd like to go to Lianna's room
now," she said. "I need to be around her things."
    Once there, she sat down on the edge of the bed
and looked around. The walls were a surprising shade of lime green.
There were posters of rock bands she didn't recognize, and a print
of the old war flyer showing Rosie the Riveter flexing her
muscle.

    "WE CAN DO IT," it read.
    There was an extremely messy desk with a laptop
still on, set to a screen saver cycling through a picture
slideshow: Lianna and a dark-haired boy dressed up in evening wear,
both looking slightly uncomfortable; Lianna and her parents,
wearing mouse ears at Disneyworld; Lianna in a sober gray dress,
standing at a podium, speaking.
    January closed her eyes. She started to repeat
the little rhyme she always used to send herself into her receptive
state:
    Once he will miss, twice he will miss,
    He only chooses one of many hours.
    For him nor deep nor hill there is,
    But all's one level plain
    He hunts for flowers.
    She didn't remember where she had first heard
it, but its rhythm and haunting words always seemed to do the
trick. She felt herself falling away from the world and into a
yawning blackness.
    At first, there was nothing. Sometimes it took a
few tries. It depended on the person she was trying to contact.
    "Lianna, where are you? I can't help you if I
can't find you. I need for you to hear me and lead me to you."
    She repeated some variation of this for the next
few minutes.
    Nothing was happening. She was starting to
wonder if this was going to work at all. There was some kind of
block at edge of her consciousness as she tried to