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  The sun bore down with increasing heat, and she pulled her hand-painted fan from her purse and flicked it open. She breathed deeply as she fanned herself. Her face tingled with a mist of salty air and the lingering scent of Mr. Stanton’s handkerchief.

  She watched with growing suspicion as the man in question postured in front of the women prisoners with his quizzing glass, assessing them with a practiced eye. Oh, dear, what were the horrible man’s intentions? She slipped her fan back into her purse and hastened to her father’s side.

  Jamie Munro was speaking quietly to a fettered youth who appeared a good five years younger than her one and twenty years. “All I ask, young man, is honesty and a good day’s work. In exchange, ye’ll have food, clean clothes, and a clean pallet.”

  The spindly boy’s eyes lit up, and he licked his dry, chapped lips. “Food?”

  Virginia’s father nodded. “Aye. Mind you, ye willna be working for me, lad, but for my widowed sister, here, in Boston. Do ye have any experience as a servant?”

  The boy lowered his head and shook it. He shuffled his feet, the scrape of his chains on the deck grating at Virginia’s heart.

  “Papa,” she whispered.

  Jamie held up a hand. “Doona fash yerself, lass. I’ll be taking the boy.”

  As the boy looked up, his wide grin cracked the dried dirt on his cheeks. “Thank you, my lord.”

  Jamie winced. “Mr. Munro, it is. We’ll have none of that lordy talk aboot here. Welcome to America.” He extended a hand, which the boy timidly accepted. “What is yer name, lad?”

  “George Peeper, sir.”

  “Father.” Virginia tugged at the sleeve of his blue serge coat. “Can we afford any more?”

  Jamie Munro’s eyes widened and he blinked at his daughter. “More? Just an hour ago, ye upbraided me aboot the evils of purchasing people, and now ye want more? ’Tis no’ like buying ribbons for yer bonny red hair.”

  “I know, but this is important.” She leaned toward him. “Do you see the tall man in lavender silk?”

  Jamie’s nose wrinkled. “Aye. Who could miss him?”

  “Well, he wanted to purchase me—”

  “What?”

  She pressed the palms of her hands against her father’s broad chest as he moved to confront the dandy. “ ’Twas a misunderstanding. Please.”

  His blue eyes glittering with anger, Jamie clenched his fists. “Let me punch him for you, lass.”

  “No, listen to me. I fear he means to buy one of those ladies for . . . immoral purposes.”

  Jamie frowned at her. “And what would ye be knowing of a man’s immoral purposes?”

  “Father, I grew up on a farm. I can make certain deductions, and I know from the way he looked at me, the man is not looking for someone to scrub his pots.”

  “What can I do aboot it?”

  “If he decides he wants one, you could outbid him.”

  “He would just buy another, Ginny. I canna be buying the whole ship. I can scarcely afford this one here.”

  She bit her lip, considering. “You could buy one more if Aunt Mary pays for George. She can afford it much more than we.”

  “Nay.” Jamie shook his head. “I willna have my sister paying. This is the least I can do to help Mary before we leave. Besides, I seriously doubt I could outbid the dandy even once. Look at the rich way he’s dressed, though I havena stet clue why a man would spend good coin to look like that.”

  The ship rocked suddenly, and Virginia held fast to her father’s arm. A breeze wafted past her, carrying the scent of unwashed bodies. She wrinkled her nose. She should have displayed the foresight to bring a scented handkerchief, though not as overpowering as the one sported by the lavender popinjay.

  Having completed his leisurely perusal of the women, Mr. Stanton was now conversing quietly with a young boy.

  “Look, Father, that boy is so young to be all alone. He cannot be more than ten.”

  “Aye,” Jamie replied. “We can only hope a good family will be taking him in.”

  “How much for the boy?” Mr. Stanton demanded in a loud voice.

  The captain answered, “You’ll be thinking twice before taking that one. He’s an expensive little wretch.”

  Mr. Stanton lowered his voice. “Why is that?”

  “I’ll be needing payment for his passage and his mother’s. The silly tart died on the voyage, so the boy owes you fourteen years of labor.”

  The boy swung around and shook a fist at the captain. “Me mum was not a tart, ye bloody old bugger!”

  The captain yelled back, “And he has a foul mouth, as you can see. You’ll be taking the strap to him before the day is out.”

  Virginia squeezed her father’s arm. “The boy is responsible for his mother’s debt?”

  “Aye.” Jamie nodded. “ ’Tis how it works.”

  Mr. Stanton adjusted the lace on his sleeves. “I have a fancy to be extravagant today. Name your price.”

  “At least the poor boy will have a roof over his head and food to eat.” Virginia grimaced. “I only hope the dandy will not dress him in lavender silk.”

  Jamie Munro frowned. “Oh, dear.”

  “What is it, Father?”

  “Ye say the man was interested in you, Ginny?”

  “Aye, he seemed to like me in his own horrid way.”

  “Hmm. Perhaps the lad will be all right. At any rate, ’tis too late now. Let me pay for George, and we’ll be on our way.”

  An Excerpt from

  TURN TO DARKNESS

  by Jaime Rush

  Enter the world of the Offspring with this latest novella in Jaime Rush’s fabulous paranormal series.

  CHAPTER ONE

  When Shea Baker pulled into her driveway, the sight of Darius’s black coupe in front of her little rented house annoyed her. That it wasn’t Greer’s Jeep, and that she was disappointed it wasn’t, annoyed the hell out of her.

  Darius pulled out his partially dismantled wheelchair from inside the car and put it together within a few seconds. His slide from the driver’s seat into his wheelchair was so practiced it was almost fluid. He waved, oblivious to her frown, and wheeled over to her truck. “As pale as you looked after hearing what Tucker, Del, and I went through, I thought you’d go right home.” He wore his dark blond hair in a James Dean style, his waves gelled to stand up.

  She had been freaked. Two men trying to kill them, men who would kill them all if they knew about their existence. She yanked her baseball cap lower on her head, a nervous habit. “I had a couple of jobs to check on. What brings you by?” She hoped it was something quick he could tell her right there and leave.

  “Tucker kicked me out. I think he feels threatened by me, because I had to take charge. I saved the day, and he won’t even admit it.”

  None of the guys were comfortable with Darius. His mercurial mood shifts and oversized ego were irritating, but the shadows in his eyes hinted at an affinity for violence. In the two years he’d lived with them, though, he’d mostly kept to himself. She’d had no problem with him because he remained aloof, never revealing his emotions, even when he talked about the car accident that had taken his mobility. Unfortunately, when he thought she was reaching out to him, that aloofness had changed to romantic interest.

  “Sounded like you went off the rails.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “Look, if you’re here to get me on your side, I won’t—”

  “I’d never ask you to do that.” His upper lip lifted in a sneer. “I know you’re loyal only to Tucker.”

  She narrowed her eyes, her body stiffening. “Tuck’s like a big brother to me. He gave me a home when I was on the streets, told me why I have extraordinary powers.” That she’d inherited DNA from another dimension was crazy-wild, but it made as much sense as, say, being able to move objects with her mind. “I’d take his side over anyone’s.”

  “Wish someone would feel that kind of loyalty to me,” Darius muttered under his breath, making her wonder if he was trying to