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Kane took off his scarf and coat and draped them over a bar stool. He ordered scotch. Axel brought it, then wandered to the other end of the bar to snag a section of the newspaper.

Kane rummaged in his coat pocket and pulled out a square box, wrapped in shiny blue paper with a silver bow. He presented it to me with a flourish.

“For you.”

“A present?” Uh-oh, had I forgotten some anniversary? At Kane’s urging, I untied the silver ribbon and opened the box. Inside was a watch, the exact same model as the one Difethwr had destroyed.

I threw my arms around him. “It’s perfect! I can’t wait to try it out at work.” I’d scheduled a couple of Drude exterminations for next week. I tried to put the watch on, but the strap slid off my wrist. “Um, what’s the occasion?” I asked, still nervous I’d forgotten some important date.

“There has to be an occasion?” He caught the strap and fastened the buckle, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin over my pulse. I shivered with the deliciousness of it. “It’s not your birthday.” His gray eyes looked deep into mine as his fingertips stroked my wrist. “It’s not an anniversary.” He leaned in close, his lips grazing my ear. “Let’s call it a beginning.”

THE NEXT DAY, ANOTHER POSTCARD FROM JULIET ARRIVED. This one showed an ancient-looking brick house with a stone balcony jutting from a second-story window. “Juliet’s balcony, Verona, Italia,” the postcard claimed. I smiled, remembering the real Juliet’s indignation when she told me she hadn’t even lived on the street where her supposed house was now a popular tourist site. The postcard had been mailed from Melbourne, Australia.

At first, I didn’t see the message. But tiny characters at the bottom of the card spelled out WT II ii 65-66. Right away, I knew what to do.

I took down The Complete Works of William Shakespeare and scanned its table of contents. There it was: The Winter’s Tale. WT. I paged through the book until I found Act II, Scene 2, lines 65 and 66:Do not you fear: upon mine honour,

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I will stand betwixt you and danger.

“Oh, Juliet,” I said to the empty apartment. “What have you gotten yourself into?” pqdm.com