Page 4 of Glow

Dan tried to figure out how to say what was on his mind without sounding too needy. “I don’t fit in here, even though this is where I grew up,” he finally replied. “No one else is interested in the same stuff, or anything paranormal. I feel like the odd man out. I think I’m going to have to move somewhere and start over, hope I can feel more like I belong.”

That was more personal than his conversations with Quinn usually got, and Dan worried he had said too much.

“I might actually be able to help,” Quinn said after a pause. “Can you tell me a little more about the paranormal side of things?”

Dan caught his breath, pushing down the excitement over finding someone who was at least interested enough to ask a follow-up question. He didn’t dare admit to his other side, but he figured that he could talk about some of the related abilities that were still not the norm.

“I have a sixth sense about weather changes,” Dan admitted. “And I can hear spirits.”

“You mean ghosts?” Quinn didn’t seem surprised at the comment.

“Sometimes, but more like nature spirits,” Dan said. “It’s not usually ‘hearing’ like voices speaking words, more like reading vibes.”

“That’s really interesting,” Quinn replied, and sounded sincere. “Have you ever talked to someone more knowledgeable about supernatural stuff?”

“Ha, ha, ha. Not in my little town,” Dan responded. “That sort of thing isn’t considered okay here. I’d get chased out of town by a mob with pitchforks.”

“Are you interested in a road trip? I’m not sure where you live, but I’m in upstate New York,” Quinn said.

“Massachusetts,” Dan replied.

“Not too far at all. I live in Fox Hollow, which has a long tradition of supporting people with special supernatural talents,” Quinn told him, and sounded genuinely excited. “At the least, you could maybe talk to folks here and get a fresh perspective. And if you like what you see, there’s always room for new residents. I’d be glad to introduce you to people and show you around.”

That sounds really good, Wally spoke up in Dan’s mind, and his immediate buy-in encouraged Dan, who had come to trust his other side’s insight. Maybe we would be safe and make friends.

“I could use getting out of town for a while,” Dan said. “I work from home, so I’m pretty flexible. Give me a day to wrap up a couple things and prep the house to be gone, and I can head out.”

“Awesome!” Quinn’s tone made Dan smile and helped him feel better about taking up a relative stranger on his invitation. “I’ll send you my phone number and directions to Fox Hollow. You’d be welcome to stay with me, but I understand that you might like to actually meet me first, so how about if I help with a hotel reservation for you once you know when you’ll arrive? I’ll message you with your options and my recommendation so you can check them out.”

Dan’s pulse quickened with excitement. “I’d really appreciate that. Thank you for going to all the trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” Quinn assured him. “Looking forward to meeting you in the real world.”

Dan signed off, and his mood felt much lighter. That might just be what we need, he thought.

It would be nice to be in a friendlier place, Wally replied.

Just because people in Fox Hollow accept things like magic and ghosts doesn’t mean we can tell them about us, Dan warned, not wanting Wally to expect too much, and taking the caution to heart himself. There’s probably nowhere that would accept a daemon shifter, but if all the other pieces are right, it would be better than here, Dan thought.

Maybe you can find a partner who accepts both of us, Wally ventured, saying what Dan had been afraid to let himself think.

I wouldn’t expect miracles, but anything’s possible. One step at a time. But he found himself crossing his fingers just in case.

CHAPTER 2

QUINN

“Drop the rifle and put your hands in the air.” Park Ranger Quinn Wilson told the poacher, holding his Sig Sauer P320 steady. “At this range, I can’t miss.”

The poacher’s target, a white-tailed buck, sprinted off, vanishing into the underbrush as the man cursed.

“You’re under arrest for poaching,” Quinn said, “not to mention hunting in a protected area and out of season. Gonna cost you money, your license, your gun, maybe even jail time.”

“Screw that.” The poacher turned fast, trying to knock Quinn’s gun out of the way and ram him in the midsection.

Old military training kicked in, and Quinn took both of them to the ground, hoping he didn’t have to shoot the man. The poacher fought but gave up when Quinn leveled the Sig at him from point-blank range.

“Fuck,” the poacher muttered as Quinn handcuffed his wrists and shackled his ankles.