The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance

wait,” Sarah said.
    “I forgot how short that time truly is,” Sam said, and pulled her into his arms. “I forgot you would be here when I got here.”
    “I forgot too,” she said. “Everything there is like light through fog. You only see a little, you only understand a little, and it isn’t until you cross the bridge that it all becomes clear.”
    They walked over the bridge of light, their hands clasped.
    This time, nothing separated them.

The Tuesday Enchantress
A Guardian Story
Mary Jo Putney
    It was just after 2 a.m. on a warm Tuesday morning when I stumbled into the corner deli and croaked, “Gimme a triple espresso mocha latte and make it fast!”
    My pal and classmate Rajiv, who was minding the store for his grandparents, glanced up from his textbook. At this hour, he could get almost as much studying done in the deli as he would at home. “It might be malpractice to give you a triple when you already look like nine miles of bad road. Maybe you should try gettin’ some sleep?”
    Even after years of being friends, I smiled at the contrast between Rajiv’s Indian face and his Texas accent. He’d saved my bacon when I returned to school after a couple of years of bumming around. I’d lost the habit of study, and it was Rajiv who helped whip my brain into academic shape again. “I’ll sleep when finals are over.”
    He set aside his book and crossed to an espresso machine so big and fancy that it seemed like it should do more than just make coffee. “Don’t worry, Charlie, you’ll ace the exams. You always do.”
    “Only because I study so much I have no life.” I waited impatiently until he gave me the tall, foaming cup. After slurping some whipped cream off the top, I started chugging the latte. Two swallows and I started to feel alive again. “Fat, chocolate and triple caffeine,” I said contentedly. “What more can a desperate student want?”
    Rajiv pulled a couple of hot samosas out of the warming case and handed them to me. “Some protein would be good. And then maybe a scone or three.”
    I thanked him through a mouthful of samosa. He made a cappuccino for himself - only a single shot, the wimp - and I decided I would survive this last exam after all. While I chewed, I surveyed the empty deli.
    Spotlessly clean, the small place was jam-packed with corner-store staples, the espresso bar and a small but excellent selection of fresh edibles. This being New York City, there was everything from pastrami to burritos to stuffed grape leaves. The Guptas’ deli had kept me from starving for years. “Sure is quiet tonight.”
    “It’s Tuesday night. Nothing ever happens on Tuesday nights,” Rajiv said authoritatively. “They’re great for studying.”
    A chime rang as the door opened. I glanced over, then stopped in mid-bite. “That is the hottest chick I’ve ever seen,” I said softly, speaking under my breath so she wouldn’t come over and deck me for the sexist comment.
    Rajiv studied her. “Nice looking, but not spectacular. Unless she has the keys to your DNA, and judging by your expression, she does.” I could hear the grin in his voice.
    She was tallish, with a nice figure, dark hair pulled back simply at her nape, a reserved expression, and a profile that belonged on an ancient coin. I couldn’t see her eyes since she was frowning at the rack of packaged cookies. Technically, Rajiv was right. She looked damned good in jeans and a tweed blazer, but she wasn’t a raging beauty. Nonetheless, she made me want to roll on my back and wave my paws in the air.
    “OK, she’s not exactly a hot chick,” I conceded. “She’s the kind of girl you want to take home to mother and, if you manage that, your mom says ‘You finally did something right, Charie.’”
    “Either you’ve gone nuts from studying and caffeine, or you’d better go over and introduce yourself right now,” Rajiv remarked as he ambled back to the counter.
    There was a mirror over the espresso machine. The reflection was discouraging. Tall and a little underfed, I’m average looking at best, and I wasn’t at my best just now. My hair hadn’t been cut in way too long, I hadn’t shaved in a week and my mom would burn my battered sweats if I was ever fool enough to wear them home. The hot chick would probably call the cops if I tried to talk to her.
    Tentatively I reached out with my power to see if I could get a reading on her. I was immediately slammed with a magical blow fiercer than a physical