Magick (Immortals and Magick Book 2) (23 page)

I paced in the hallway, chewing on my thumbnail. Anna leaned against the wall, Gareth next to her. Damien was halfway down the stairs, sitting with his back to the room that Harley was in.

“Is it taking too long?” Anna asked, worry and doubt in her voice.

“None of us know how long it’s supposed to take.” I shot back irritably, earning a disgruntled look from Gareth.

“Sorry. I’m just as nervous as you all. I hate being out here.” I grumbled. As I walked past the door for what seemed like the thousandth time, a bright flash of light shot out from under the door. I jumped back, not sure if it had weight or not.

“What the hell was that?” Damien asked as he whipped around to look at the door.

I pressed myself up against the door, as quietly as I could. I didn’t want to break their concentration inside the room, but the suspense was killing me and bright flashes of light were not helping. My parents were nowhere to be found. They had enough supernatural woowoo the night before and had made themselves scarce after Anna had brought back a change of clothes for them.

“Maybe you should get away from the door.” Anna urged, her hands reaching out to me.

“I’m trying to listen. Shhh.” I shushed her, putting a finger to my lips.

I listened hard, but couldn’t hear a damn thing. They had been in there an hour, ever since breakfast and I was getting very antsy. I was surprised that Noah and Amity had the energy to do such a difficult spell, but they were both committed and resolved. They had left us all downstairs with an admonishment to not come upstairs. They obviously didn’t know us very well.

With a sigh, I pushed away from the door and resumed pacing. Noah and I had fallen asleep wrapped up together, to where I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began. We held on like it was our first night together or our last, neither one of us dwelling on what had transpired earlier or what could happen in the morning. I held on to that memory as another bright flash lit up the doorway.

“Any brighter and I’d need my sunglasses.” Gareth observed as he winced from the light. Anna made a noise of agreement. We all went back to our silent vigil.

What seemed like another hour had gone by before I heard the lock click and the bedroom door opened. Amity came out first, followed by Noah, who sent a smile my way.

“It’s done. She’ll be fine until we can get her back.” Amity announced, giving us all a smile. Damien made it into the room first, followed quickly by Gareth and Anna.

“She’ll be ok now. We’ll get her back Teagan, don’t worry.” Amity rubbed a hand down my arm as she passed me to go downstairs.

I looked up at Noah, and he smiled down at me.

“Lots of smiles today after such a horrid night.” I remarked and he just smiled wider.

“What are you smiling about?”

“I heard her.” He whispered, and my knees almost gave way. He caught me by the elbows and held me up.

“What? How? What did she say? Is she ok?” I babbled out questions, but I was smiling now too, and could feel more tears gathering. Gah, I was so tired of crying but they were happy tears.

“She said she’s ok. She’s lost, but she’s out there, fighting to come back. We need to set up a schedule, keep talking to her so she can follow our words home.” He picked me up and swung me around and I was laughing and crying and finally feeling hopeful.

“We’ll get her back Teagan. I know it now.” Noah said then kissed me with all the hope he felt. It joined with my hope and filled us both with light.

The End

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Prologue

My mother, a full blooded Native American, was a curious woman. While she embraced her ancestry, she was also thoroughly modern. We had the latest in every comfort and convenience, and the faculty parties she threw for my father were always hailed as civilized and cosmopolitan.

I remember many a night when I would sit in my room, banished for the evening due to the glittering affair downstairs, and close my eyes but still see the people dressed in their faculty-party best. My mother was well aware of my talents from an early age. My father took some convincing.

My father was a professor of Literature at the University of New Hampshire in Manchester, and eventually the head of the department. I remember him as a quick-to-smile gentle man, who loved the dusty, leather-bound books that graced his study as much as he loved my mother and I. No stuffy tweed-draped professor facade for my father; to watch him teach was to watch someone completely enraptured of literature, awestruck by the creation of fiction, and he taught his eager young students with fervor and a bit of hilarity.

From him I was gifted with the love of the written word and his green eyes. From my mother, I received the gift of incredible fashion sense and her ability to read minds and converse with the spirit world.