Sigils and spells, p.49
Sigils & Spells, page 49
“Magic is fun,” said Alice. “It’s confusing.”
“You’re telling me.” Ruby signed and shut the thick dusty volume we’d been looking at. “You guys should get ready to go. Minho will be here in a few for you.”
We stood and helped Ruby tidy her study a little. Alice and I as new and confused shifters, were going to one of Minho’s W.A. meetings, where they’d hopefully be able to help us learn to control our new found abilities.
Ruby wished us luck, and left us in her driveway to wait for my werewolf roommate. She went back into her big farm house. I looked at Alice and found myself grinning.
“So. Ceridwens, huh?”
She grinned back. “Everything’s going to be different now. I’m going to go back to school and study biology, but… now I’m magic.”
Her smile could have split her face open. “I’m magic!”
I squeezed her hand. “Yeah, you are.”
“So, Horse boy,” Alice bumped me with her hip, and, holding a pretend microphone to her mouth like a reporter, said, “You just defeated a psycho Fae lady, what are you going to do next?”
She smiled like she was trying not to laugh and offered her fake microphone to me, the golden sun slanted into her eyes, turning them mahogany.
“Well, Pickle Girl, I’ll tell you what I’m not gonna do.” I kissed her on the side of the head as Minho’s truck started to crunch down the driveway. “I’m never going in a Fairy circle ever again.”
—Thanks for reading!—
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ABOUT Z.Z. WARLANDER
The day Z.Z. Warlander realized books were written by real people, and not fairies or robots, she decided to become an author. Many years and many challenges later, Z.Z. recently graduated college with a degree in Creative Writing and a handful of published works, all leading to the fulfillment of a dream. She has a love of all things beautiful, all things kind, and all things dark and filled with magic.
The real magic is stories, and Z.Z. lives for the telling of them.
RETURN TO RAVENCROFT
Return to Ravencroft © 2022 Rebekah R. Ganiere
RETURN TO RAVENCROFT
Neve had no idea she was heir to a witch dynasty, until cousins Callum and Aegus come crashing into her life and her heart.
CHAPTER 1
Neve brushed her mane of wild curls from her face and cursed again for having worn lip gloss. Lip gloss and long hair never mixed. Why had she ever let her friend Amanda talk her into wearing some?
Amanda, Bethany, and Crystal had been Neve’s best friends since high school. A, B, and C. And ever since high school, her friends had been able to talk her into just about anything. The lip gloss, an expensive dinner that wasn’t worth it, and even going to a nightclub for drinks was no exception. It was hard to tell the three musketeers no when she owned her own business and could open her doors when she wanted.
Two drinks. She would only have two drinks, and then she would head back to her safe space, her greenhouse, and then her library.
“Stop.” Amanda pulled her through the door of the bar. “I know what you are doing.”
Neve rolled her eyes but stopped herself from sighing. “What am I doing?”
“You are figuring out how long you have to stay before you can return to the solitude of your plants, lotions, potions, and books.”
“They aren’t potions.” Neve laughed. “They’re tinctures,” she finished over the loud music.
It was Amanda’s turn to roll her eyes. “Same thing.”
Neve had always had an affinity for plants. Ever since she was young, she’d been able to take any plant and bring it back from the brink of death. Even cut flowers in a vase seemed to last three times as long for her as they did for other people. And because of that, she’d always felt more at home with plants than with people. Even so, somehow, Amanda had never given up on her. Almost like Neve had been her pet project. And because Amanda had always been so fun and pretty and popular, what she’d said had gone. So, Bethany and Crystal had accepted her the same way they would accept a tag-along little sister. She was the Dartanian to their three musketeers.
Several guys at the bar called to Amanda. She waved and leaned into Neve. “Go find a table, and I’ll see if I can snag us some free drinks.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
Neve knew better than to argue. She spotted a table in the corner and headed toward it. She’d gotten halfway across the dance area when she felt a tug on her skirt. She stopped instinctually and took a step back. She looked down to find a red high heel stuck in the hem of her long flowy skirt. She waited until the girl moved to the side and then continued to the table. She hoped Amanda hadn’t seen because she would once again chide Neve for not having worn something shorter and tighter for their night out.
Neve slid into the booth and looked around. The country music from the local band made her want to get up and dance, but she’d never been one to dance by herself, and more than that, she would never have the nerve to ask a man to dance.
She’d always been cute. That’s what everyone had told her. At five foot one, with wild red curls and a smattering of freckles – okay, more like an onslaught of freckles – and bright green eyes, she’d always been called cute. Her mother had called her cute. Her girlhood crush had called her cute. Her high school prom date had called her cute – right before he’d tried to get in her pants. Even Bethany and Crystal had nicknamed her Cutie.
And men didn’t tend to want “cute”. They wanted beautiful, vivacious, sexy. And she was just fine with that.
A strange sensation made her skin tingle. She looked around again, and her gaze landed on a man on the dance floor. Her breathing stopped as she took his devilishly handsome face and lithe body clad in pure black from the tailored button-down shirt to his black jeans and expensive dress shoes. But it wasn’t his obviously fit body that had her heart beating like a hummingbird’s; it was his eyes. True, there was a leggy blonde backed into and slithering against him like he was her own private stripper pole, but he barely seemed to notice as his intense gaze remained locked on Neve’s.
Her cheeks heated, but she couldn’t look away. His hands rested lightly on the hips of the blonde he danced with, but his gaze trapped Neve’s, making it impossible for her to do anything but watch him.
Stop. Stop looking at him. You are being an idiot, and he’s nothing more than a cocky a-hole for wanting you to watch.
Moments passed, and slowly he moved closer to where she sat so that by the time the song ended, he was mere feet from her table. Without so much as a glance her way, he spun the blonde into someone else’s arms and slid into Neve’s booth. He did it so fluidly that Neve had to blink twice to make sure he’d sat down.
“Hello.” His low gravelly voice held a hint of a Scottish brogue to it.
“Uh… hi?” Neve was sure she didn’t know him. She glanced to see the blonde staring daggers at her. “I don’t think your date appreciates being discarded like a stained dress shirt.”
A smile ticked up the corners of his mouth. “She’s not my date. I don’t even know her name.”
He was beyond handsome with deeply tanned skin and dark wavy hair. His deep eyes held an intensity that made her body heat and her belly flutter. But his arrogant air gave her pause. She hadn’t dated much, almost not at all, to be honest, but she knew what she liked and what she didn’t like, and cocky wasn’t on her qualities-wanted-in-a-boyfriend list.
Neve cocked an eyebrow. “You seemed pretty familiar on the dance floor.”
He gave a half-shrug. “What’s your name?”
Neve narrowed her eyes on him, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling in her gut. She sat back and crossed her arms. When his gaze dropped to her breasts that peeked out from under her peasant top, she undid her arms and set her hands in her lap.
“You sat at my table. Don’t you think you should introduce yourself?”
“Callum McIntire.”
A truly Scottish name.
“And you?” he questioned.
She bit the inside of her cheek. Something about him seemed almost familiar.
“Have we met before?”
“If we had, I would definitely have remembered your name.” His gaze heated, making Neve swallow hard.
“You sure look at me like you know me.”
His eyes twinkled. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head. This was weird. Even for her, this was a strange conversation, and she’d once had a first date where a guy started out by telling her how many women he’d slept with, and his favorite sex position. Then he’d asked her the last time she had been tested for STDs.
“Is there something I can do for you, Callum?” she finally asked.
The corner of his lips ticked up, and he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. “You can tell me your name.”
A memory surfaced from when she was little. She had been no more than three or four and had been at the store with her grandmother Elsie. A stranger had told her she was cute and had asked her name.
“Neve,” she’d said.
The woman had smiled at her and then walked away. But her grandmother had bent down, taken Neve by the shoulders, and looked straight into her eyes.
“Never tell a stranger your name. Names are dangerous. They hold power. If you give your name to the wrong person, they can use it against you.”
Neve hadn’t understood what her grandmother had meant, but since then, she’d always been careful about telling people her name, especially men.
“Okay,” Callum finally said. “I’ll give you one since you don’t want to share.” He studied her for a moment. “Beautiful. That fits.”
Neve snorted and folded her hands on the table. “If you’re going to tease, you can leave now.”
His brows drew together. “Why do you think I am teasing?”
The honesty in his voice made her blush. “Neve,” she blurted.
“Neve.” He whispered her name as though committing it to memory.
Strangely, though the music and talking had intensified, she heard him. She bit her tongue to keep from asking him to repeat it. She got the sudden feeling her gran had been right because just hearing him say her name sent a rush of heat through her like she’d never felt.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Neve.”
She swallowed hard. “And you, Callum McIntire.”
They stared at each other for several minutes, neither speaking. Neve tried to figure out what was happening. She’d never had a guy as hot as Callum look at her the way he was looking at her.
“If you are hoping for a one-night stand, I should tell you now; I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Do I look like that kind of guy?” His eyebrows rose when she didn’t answer. “Wow. I guess I’ll have to rethink my outfits then.”
“It’s not just your outfit.”
“No? What is it then?”
Neve chewed her lip. “It’s just… all of you. Yes, your outfit, but also how you danced with that other woman and tossed her away. The way you look at me like you want to take me out back and just have a good time against the brick wall. And it’s also the arrogant way you look like you tend to get what you want no matter the cost to others.”
He thought about her words for a moment. “Okay. First, I like nice clothes, nothing more, nothing less. Second, the other woman came and found me on the dance floor; I didn’t search her out. Third, I would never take you out back and have a quicky with you against a brick wall. I would take you home and make love to you long and properly. And lastly, I do tend to get what I want, but not at the cost of other people. I don’t believe in that.”
“Well, whether it be a quicky against a wall or a long sweaty session in your bed, you will be getting neither from me tonight.”
He smiled. “What about at a later date? Say after half a dozen dates?”
She narrowed her eyes at him and couldn’t help the smile that tickled the corners of her mouth. “What makes you think there will even be a first date?”
He shrugged. “Like you said, I tend to get what I want.”
She couldn’t help but smile. He may be cocky, but he had a playful side as well. Interesting.
“Where are you from?” she asked.
“Scotland. What about you? Are you from here in San Francisco?”
“No. I live about an hour from here. I’m just here for the night with friends.”
He nodded. “Are you staying at a hotel nearby?”
“No, I’m staying at my dad’s- well, no longer my dad’s. I guess it’s my place now.”
“I’m sorry. Losing a parent is painful.”
The emotion in his eyes hit her straight in the heart.
“I never met him. My mom died of cancer a few years ago.” Why had she told him that? She hadn’t talked about it with anyone besides her Gran.
“That’s terrible. I am truly sorry.”
The downward turn of emotions weighed her down, and she smiled instead. “It’s okay. I still have my gran. What about you? Do you have family around here?”
“My older brother. We… share a house with some other family members.”
She nodded. “Smart. Rents here are quite expensive, and mortgage payments are even worse. It’s why I don’t live here in the city. I rent my dad’s place out most of the time.” Again she wondered why in the world she was oversharing. She never overshared. Hell, she didn’t share in general.
Silence fell between them for a minute, and Neve let the music seep into her. She scanned the club for Amanda and noticed her and Bethany, and Crystal doing shots at the bar with a group of what looked like frat boys.
“So,” Callum said. “When do we start?”
She turned her attention back to his handsome face. “Start what?”
“The dating, of course.”
“Who said I’m going to date you?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
She snorted. “Seriously?”
He shrugged. “I’m a good guy. I can support myself. I’m good-looking, and I like you. Why not see if there could be more to this?”
She had to admit she liked his directness. “That’s honestly the best pitch I’ve heard in a long time.”
“So, is that a yes?”
“It’s not a no.”
“All right, I’m free right now.”
She snorted and shook her head. “It’s late.”
“And yet you are still here.”
“I’ve already eaten.”
“Then we’ve gotten two-thirds of the first date already over with. We’ve both eaten, and we’ve had a conversation. So now we just need to do something else.”
“Like what?”
He turned his hand palm up on the table. “Dance? We are at a nightclub, after all.”
Neve stared at it, and as if it had a mind of its own, her hand moved across the table. Her fingertips barely grazed his, but the contact sent lightning up her arm and across her chest. She pulled back as energy pulsed through her, straight down to her core.
What the hell was that?
Something inside her screamed for her to run, but something else intrigued her. She slid her hand back across the table and laced her fingers back into his.
Callum lifted her from the table and led her out onto the floor. His eyes never left hers as he pulled her close and wrapped his arm around her waist. The sensation made her breathing hitch, and her brain explode with questions.
What was that feeling? Why did she like it so much? Was it just her imagination because a man in almost two years hadn’t touched her? Did she really want to do this? Was he just toying with her?
All her questions faded away as he pressed her body into his and began to sway with the music, his hips grinding into hers.
The rest of the nightclub faded away as the two danced body to body. The warmth of his skin seeped through her thin clothing, heating her from the inside out. His eyes didn’t move from her face as they moved in slow circles on the dance floor.
Suddenly he bent his head, and his lips moved closer to her. Neve froze. Something inside her told her to stop. To get away. To run. And for once, Neve listened.
She pushed away from Callum. His eyes darkened but stayed locked on her. He reached for her again, but she pulled away, pushed through the crowd, and made for the entrance. She looked over her shoulder to find Callum still staring at her. She continued through the group when someone bumped into her. She turned and bumped again to find herself face-to-face with the blonde from earlier. The blonde pushed Neve so violently that she twisted and tripped over the hem of her skirt. Bouncing between people like a ping pong ball, she tried to keep upright but finally had to decide between losing her skirt or losing her footing. Unwilling to share the sight of her bare rear with the entire bar, she threw out her hands and braced herself for hitting the floor when a strong arm snaked around her waist and kept her from making contact. A moment later, she was spun and pinned against the far wall of the bar by a tall, black-clad body.
Neve’s heart raced, and she sucked in several breaths before realizing she was on the opposite side of the bar from the entrance. Instead she was in the small hallway that led to the bathrooms. She took a moment to orient herself and reached for her skirt to ensure it was still where it should be. It was then that she finally registered the tingling sensation that pulsed through her body like she’d pressed against a massage chair.
