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A small queue was outside and I quickly learned that most of the people in line had business to conduct with the Consular Office. A couple from Wisconsin told me who I needed to speak with when I told them about my lack of passport, money and a place to stay.

They seemed horrified by my lack of identification and not very optimistic about what could be done to remedy my situation. I tried not to worry. But niggling doubts crossed my mind. I'd thought that if I could just get to the Embassy, they would be able to take care of everything, but what if they couldn't? What if I was arrested for being here without a passport?

What if I had to ask for Gage's help!

Within an hour I was at the counter (which reminded me a lot of the Admissions counter at college) trying to convince a bored woman named Becky that I was not only an American citizen but that I had been transported into the country against my will. Her expression when I told her I had no money, passport or a way to get home went from suspicious to incredulous.

When I couldn't explain why I didn't go to the police to report my kidnapper, Becky got downright rude with me.

With a sniff of disdain, she asked me to take a seat and wait to meet with her boss.

Within the next five hours I read all the posted travel alerts and customs requirements ten times WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 56

each. I flossed and brushed my teeth in the small public restroom and drank enough water from the water fountain to cause an uncomfortable sloshing sensation in my belly.

My butt was numb from sitting on the hard, molded plastic chair and the man sitting next to me kept coughing in my direction and asking me the time even though I didn't have a watch. I gritted my teeth with impatience as I wondered if Becky had even told anyone that I was here.

I was about to get back into the line, when, with a staccato drum of fast moving shoes, a harried looking man in a brown suit hurried up to me. He stopped in front of me with a flustered waving of his hands. His forehead was damp with sweat and his cheeks were cherry red from exertion.

“Miss Sutton? Anna Sutton?” He said while gasping for breath and leaning over

slightly.

I nodded and stood up, pasting my brightest smile on my tired face. I stuck out my hand to shake his and he looked at it like he had never seen one before and I was about to drop it to my side in embarrassment when he grabbed it and gave it an enthusiastic shaking with his damp one.

“I'm Gavin Prewitt, the Consulate General's assistant? I am so sorry you had to wait, I didn't know you were here!”

He aimed a glare at the girls behind the counter and I saw a couple of them give me gimlet eyed stares as he ushered me towards a bank of elevators guarded by a pair of brawny marines with machine guns. I tried not to stare at the guns, but they drew the eye. I had never been so close to a gun before and I felt my mouth go dry with fear. But the marines barely noticed us as we passed.

I felt my knees weakening as the elevator went up and I hoped I wouldn't collapse now.

It had been a long day so far. I was exhausted and hungry and would give my new wool coat for a sandwich and a comfortable chair to lounge in.

Gavin lead the way down a maze of corridors. The carpet was shabby and worn in places and it smelled like coffee and stale popcorn. Phones were ringing everywhere in a cacophony of annoying bell tones and the sound of several conversations rose and fell as we walked quickly towards two large double doors at the corner of the building.

After a quick knock, the doors opened and for a moment I couldn't see anything as sunlight from a bank of windows opposite shined into my eyes. When I got used to the light I found myself face to face with the Consulate General.

No, I don't follow ambassadorial appointments, before coming to the Embassy I wouldn't have recognized the Consulate General if he stopped by my apartment to use the bathroom. But, I had just spent several, very long hours staring at a framed picture of him in the passport services lobby and I felt like I knew every freckle and crease in his handsome fifty-something face.

He was friendly and solicitous and after I had explained my problem, he smiled and said, with a total lack of conceit, “I can help with that.”

After that, there was a whirlwind of phone calls and people rushing in and out with faxes while I sipped coffee and enjoyed the view. Within three hours I had an emergency passport, a business class ticket to Portland via New York with a short stopover in Denver.

Mr. Prewitt gave me a ride to Heathrow waving off my frequent and slightly incoherent thanks. By the time I was tucked into my airline seat with a squashy pillow, a scratchy airline blanket and a small bag of stale pretzels, the last couple of days seemed like a bizarre dream. I WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 57

blinked blearily around at my fellow passengers feeling like a refugee returned to my homeland.

I wondered what Gage would do when he found out I was gone and I smiled to think I had outwitted the man. He was entirely too arrogant and sure of himself for my taste. He probably thought I was sleeping in, taking advantage of the designer makeup he bought me to make myself look nice for him, ha! Boy was he in for a surprise!

I bet he was already planning a small wedding for us and a prolonged honeymoon. I laughed out loud at the thought of his consternation, the shock he would experience that I had run out on him! I bet that didn't happen too often to Mr. Playboy of the Supernatural World! I noticed a couple of my fellow passengers staring at me with wary expressions and with an apologetic smile I snuggled into my scratchy blanket and by the time the flight attendant stopped by with a complimentary soda, I was nodding away in snoozeville.

* * * *

My plane landed in Portland shortly after midnight. The airport was still pretty busy, but I could appreciate the relative peace at night to what it must be like during the daytime. The Consulate General had given me a hundred dollars and I used the money to pay for a cab that let me off on the street behind my apartment.

I breathed in deep of the foggy Oregon air and smiled when I heard the lowing horn of a barge being tugged down the Willamette River. It was good to be home.

Gage wasn't stupid, he would guess that the first place I would go would be my

apartment. But, I had a head start. At the earliest, he could be here by tomorrow. Which is when I would put my brilliant plan of attack into place; call the police. If he tried anything, and I do mean anything, I would call the cops pronto this time. He wouldn't dare try to snatch me from under their noses!

I rooted around in the pot of begonias outside my apartment door looking for my spare key. I hadn't needed it in so long it had settled under a thick layer of potting soil, with a feeling of relief I felt the sharp edge of the key and pulled it out. I brushed the dirt off as I shuffled my bag to my left hand. I had a little trouble getting the key in the lock without any light, but after a couple of minutes of fumbling I felt the rasp as the key slid in. With a twist of my hand, I was inside. Victory! I made it.

My apartment smelled musty after being shut up for the last three and a half days. The rooms seemed smaller as I walked through them, and the furnishings just a tad shabbier than I remembered. But it was all mine and I was glad to be here.

I tossed my bag of clothes on the bed and quickly changed into my softest flannel pajamas enjoying the feeling of being free of zippers, buttons and laces after almost twenty four hours of being dressed. I splashed water on my face and pulled on a pair of soft, squashy socks, wiggling my toes in bliss.

Luckily, I had gone grocery shopping just a couple of days before my magical mystery tour of England, so I was able to sit down with a glass of milk and a small stack of buttered toast.

I was too tired to cook anything, but after a day of stale pretzels and too sweet cakes, anything would have tasted good. I licked the melted butter from my fingers without a stab of guilt at the number of calories I had blown for the day.

I settled down on the couch, clicked the television on, but after flipping through the channels I decided to turn it off and have a quick rest before going to bed. I closed my eyes and smiled tiredly, everything would be better tomorrow.

With a gasp I sat up, the clock on the mantel read just after six, so with a racing heart I WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 58

rushed through my shower and dressed in my favorite navy suit for work. I took extra care with my makeup, shadowing my eyes with gold and amber and even taking the time to curl my eyelashes before applying a careful coat of waterproof mascara. I slicked on a quick coat of lipstick and was ready to go.

I was expecting to be fired today. I wasn't sure that there was anything to be done to avoid that. But on the off chance Lillian and the firm would give me a second chance I wanted to look nice. I was going straight to human resources to talk with Patty before going to my desk.

I wanted to avoid the embarrassment of being escorted from the building by a security guard. I cringed at the thought of it. Having a stranger pack up your personal effects from your desk and send it, along with your last check, seemed the final insult. I crossed my fingers hoping that it wouldn't come to that and I wracked my brain trying to come up with an excuse for the last few days absence.

When I got to work, I stopped by Patty's office. She wasn't in yet, her computer was off and her phone was transferred to voicemail. I didn't want to go to my desk upstairs. If I was going to be fired, I would rather hear it from someone in Human Resources than to get an earful from Lillian or Guy. I was trying to decide between waiting in Patty's office or taking a seat in the break room when Gerald Franz gave me a friendly smile and offered to get me a cup of coffee. Gerald was the Director of Human Resources and wasn't known for his kindness to employees he was about to fire.

In fact, he wasn't known for kindness at all. Most employees gave him a wide berth when they saw him coming. He had a narrow, pale face, lacquered dark hair and thin lips that seemed permanently fixed into a disapproving sneer. I gave him a quizzical look and he blushed and hurried back to his office, pulling the door halfway closed behind him.

At that moment Patty swept into the office and gave a shriek when she saw me.

“Where have you been? We were so worried! Leah and I went by your apartment
every
day. Your neighbors were making fliers with your picture on them! Leah and I were going to drive around and post them on telephone poles.”

I felt a stab of guilt thinking about my neighbors. They were all elderly and in frail health. I looked in on most of them and some went with me to the grocery store, saving themselves long trips on the bus. Most of them didn't have any family and their only friends were the other seniors in the neighborhood.

Of course, they were worried. If I had gotten up earlier this morning I could have stopped in for a coffee with Martha and Lenore, they were up at the crack of dawn. They could have passed on the news of my homecoming to the other neighbors. But I was in such a hurry this morning, I didn't think about them.

I took a deep breath preparing to give her a condensed version of what I had been doing the last three days, when, like a volcano she erupted again, “Gerald said you took a leave of absence that had been approved by Mr. Whitley. Lillian didn't believe it and she came in here madder than a tiger with a loose tooth screeching about how, 'she could replace you if she wanted.' Then she got called to Whitley's office and since then she has been terrorizing the word processing staff and shouting at everyone else. There were rumors that you had a mental breakdown and tried to jump from the roof, completely naked!”

Patty gave me a hug, looked me over and then hugged me again. I was touched that she had been so worried for me. That she and Leah were going to start papering the city with fliers was too much to be believed. I gave her an amazed look and laughed at the way rumors could WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 59

get so outrageous in such a short time. Although, to be fair, a mental breakdown and suicide attempt was pretty mundane compared to what really happened.

I had been dreading trying to explain where I was but I was spared a tortured and likely incoherent confession when Gerald stuck his head out of his office and in a return to his usual martinet ways, said, “Time's wasting ladies. You aren't paid to socialize. Get on with it!”

I gave Patty another quick hug and whispered in her ear, “Lunch, okay? My treat. I'll meet you at City Subs. Tell Leah to meet us too, alright? I can explain everything.”

She nodded and gave me a look that promised a grueling and exhaustive explanation of where I had been and what I had been doing the last few days. I wasn't looking forward to it and I wasn't sure where I would start.

I walked back to the bank of elevators and took the next one going up. I had been so worried I would be fired that by the time I got to my desk I felt a million pounds lighter and didn't notice that people stopped talking as I passed. Several junior associates stuck their heads out from their cramped little offices to watch me walk by. A storm of whispering broke out and I finally noticed the stir I was making, walking by, when two of the snootier interns gave me brief nods.

I dropped my purse in my bottom drawer and sat down at my desk with a sigh; back to real life now. My inbox was surprisingly empty and I was just enjoying the banality of turning on my computer and logging in, when Lillian walked out of her office and with a look of burning contempt said, “Anna, order coffee service for two, pronto.”

She snapped her fingers and gave me a once over that seemed to imply we would have words later. Uh oh, that's a conversation I would like to avoid. But knowing Lillian, she'd been storing it up.

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