I nod and look at each of them. That’s the plan.
“Okay. I can do it.” I don’t want to say goodbye but I should just in case I choose Larissa.
It’s crazy. I should want to go home. It should be a given because I’ve only been here for a handful of days.
What imprinted on me was love. Love for each of them.
“I don’t want to say goodbye,” I say.
“Then don’t,” Lucian says. I smile at him. I love kissing him, and I love the way Marcus and Caleb touch me. I love how they all make me feel.
“I won’t then,” I say. “But I want a kiss.”
He leans forward and kisses me. Then I kiss Caleb and Marcus.
Once I stop kissing Marcus he snaps his fingers and there’s a flash of silver light.
“That is the tear. I’ve conjured things a little different so you can choose better. Once you go through it, you’ll be able to see exactly where to go. Once the light fades, that’s it My lady.”
“Okay… I love you all,” I tell them.
“We love you too.” Lucian says it for all of them.
Pulling in a deep breath I step through the silver light. As soon as I do I’m sucked right in and they are gone.
I’m surrounded by shimmers of light with visions of the past happening before me like TV. screens set up to show me the sequence of events.
I follow each one until I get to the night I first had the dream. I decide to go back just a little bit before that time, to earlier that day.
I step through and look back seeing the silver light. One hour tops. I better make haste.
I’m in the kitchen. Larissa is supposed to come home any minute now so I head out to the living room.
The front door opens and she comes in. When she looks at me she has that annoyed expression. The one that shows how irked she is that I quit college.
Despite that I hug her.
“God, what is with you?” she asks.
“I don’t have much time.” I answer, pulling away.
“Much time for what? Laila you have all the time in the world. It’s me who has to work hard, remember? Me who has to take care of you and watch over you. I don’t know what you’ll do when you have to live on your own.”
As she speaks I’m reminded of what she thinks of me and it hits me then that it’s time to move on.
“I’ll be fine. I have one last thing to do and then I’m gone,” I answer and it feels right. As right as being with my guys.
“What do you mean?”
“We have to go to the seer now. Something bad is going to happen. I had a premonition of a warlock coming to steal our powers.”
“And the stupid film you saw the other week has nothing to do with it?” She sets her hands on her hips.
Confidence fills me and I shake my head. “No, it’s not about that. We need to go to the seer now.”
I sound different and feel different too. She notices.
“Okay, this better not be some sort of shit though.”
“It’s not.”
We teleport to the seer and I tell her all the details of the vision. As I speak, I speak with the eloquence of someone who’s sure of themselves.
I talk and I’m mindful of the time.
Like the Oracle said, the seer contacts the high witches and they get together to create a spell to stop the warlock in his tracks.
Just like that, the problem of him stealing the coven’s powers is eliminated.
When Larissa and I get back home, I only have five minutes left.
This is the moment. Instead of going to the living room I take her to the kitchen and she stops short when she sees the silver light.
“What is that?” she asks.
“A slice through the fabric of time,” I say. When I look back at it I feel sure of what I want to do. Why be good when you could be a legend? “Larissa, I’m leaving. For good.”
She gives me a wide eyed stare. “What? You can’t just leave.”
“I have to. I’m going to go back through the light. I won’t see you again, but we’ll always be able to sense each other. I’m going to be a mage.”
“No, I want you to stay,” she winces.
I hug her. “I can’t… I can’t stay. I went to a place where I found myself. I went to a place where I could be me. You’ve always told me to aim high and be the best I can be. That’s what I’m doing now.”
A tear tracks down her cheek. “This is too soon, so sudden. You can’t just do this and leave.”
I point back to the light. “This is my one chance. I have to take it. “I have to go.”
We stare at each other for what feels like eons. The last time I saw her look so sad was when Mom was killed.
“This is it? Goodbye?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
I nod. “I’ll be in your heart. So I won’t go too far.”
We hug and when we pull apart the light begins to flicker.
“I love you Laila.”
“I love you too,” I say. I step back through the light and it seals.
I find my way back to my guys and as I step out of the light on their side Lucian pulls me into his arms.
“I’m staying,” I tell him and look to each of them.
They all hug me.
They hold me and I feel like I’m home.
I feel complete with my protectors.
The End
About the Author
Faith Summers is the Dark Contemporary Romance pen name of USA Today Bestselling Author, Khardine Gray.
Warning !! Expect wild romance stories of the scorching hot variety and deliciously dark romance with the kind of alpha male bad boys best reserved for your fantasies.
Dive in and enjoy her naughty page-turners.
Roots and Gerunds
Edeline Wrigh
About Roots and Gerunds
Cassandra missed the family witch gene—or so she thinks. One of the few in her line who can’t seem to do a spell right to save her life, she’s content running the local apothecary and New Age shop in her small mountain town.
Then, a man comes in, begging her for help. He claims her legacy is just getting started, and after he dies in front of her, his ghost gives her one task: To do a love spell.
What could go wrong? What could go right? Find out in this exclusive low-heat reverse harem story today!
One
It was a normal day in Cassandra's life when she decided, finally, she was going to work a love spell. She'd been doing what she did best—or, at least, what she usually did, which was showing up to her quaint little shop that sold witch supplies, odds and ends, and eccentricities, opening it up, and doing her best to read her clients.
Her shop was located just off one of the biggest pedestrian roads in town—which wasn't saying much. Newberry was a tiny town nestled into the Rocky Mountains in Utah; one of places like every other little mountain town out west, but also absolutely unique. It was the sort of place that'd be labeled "mountain town" in a photo exhibit by a photographer who would have forgotten precisely which of the little towns the photo had actually been taken in, but anyone who had ever spent any time there could pick it out of a lineup: the architecture was just so, and didn't you know Jenny Minerva was the one who had opened that schoolhouse back in the late 19th century, and didn't you know Danny Minerva was now the local sheriff?
As it was, they had their share of tourists who stayed in the bed-and-breakfast up the road, and they had their share of people who had been running from somewhere to start a new life—or to somewhere where they would never be forgotten like they were in New York or Chicago or LA.
But then, they also had their secrets. Cassandra thought it wouldn't much surprise her to learn that most of the residents of Newberry were in fact witches; it was just one of those sorts of places. She, herself, came from a long line of them, though she could never master even simple spell work. She’d instead gone off to non-magical college, gotten good at gardening, and
had returned to open an apothecary. Well, that had been the plan, anyway, but ultimately she ended up grabbing the tail of the New Age craze, adding crystals and small statues to her wares.
Her clients were a mixture of human and witch, and they came in for everything from tarot cards to shock their conservative parents with to ancient artifacts they could use to chase out spirits from their family home.
It was never mundane. That was for sure. But it got boring being on the outside of it all this way.
Yeah, there was no mistaking it: she was lonely.
A love spell couldn't be that hard, could it? She sighed as she straightened the sage sticks, then turned to the bookshelf.
Somewhere on the top row was an old, incredibly real, book on spells, and she knew what she was looking for was in there. She grabbed her wand and muttered an ancient word to summon it off the shelf.
The entire shelf, books and all, bounced and then fell. She moved in time to avoid most of it, only taking a few errant books to the head, even if she tripped in all the chaos. When she emerged, she assessed the damage: the bookshelf had splintered in half, and some books looked worse for the wear, but the damage was minor.
She should have known better, she scolded herself. At least the book she'd been looking for landed on the top of the pile this time. Last time she'd had to dig for it, and she did so only to find it had turned to ashes at the bottom of the pile.
She was getting better at this, right?
"Cassie, are you okay?!" a worried voice shouted from the entrance. Oh, right, employees. What was she thinking? One of these days, she thought, maybe she'd be the kind of boss that was... well, boss-like. Firm. Resolute. Respectable.
As she brushed the dust out of her hair, she realized this was probably never going to be her. Ah well. Maybe this was why most witches—at least witches in training—wore hats. But Lindsey was probably the best employee she could ask for, and that was saying something. She was always on time, always ready to help, always actually helpful...
...and never asked too many of the wrong questions.
"I'm fine," Cassandra said, taking Lindsey's outstretched hand and letting her help her to her feet. Lindsey was young, around nineteen years old, with bright eyes, long dark hair, the eagerness that comes to so many without experience, and a curiosity that was as flattering as it was worrisome.
Lindsey was entirely, one hundred percent, human. She was also, as it was, Cassandra's best friend, age gap aside.
"What happened?" she asked now. "Didn't you just have a shelf fall over last week too? Do you want me to bolt the others into the wall? You could have been really hurt!"
A million questions hit Cassie at once. She went with the easiest response, which was a non-answer. "I was trying to get a book off the top shelf-"
"Without a stepladder? Without a chair? Were you just climbing it? Haven't I made you promise not to do that? Cassie!"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry," she said. "Can you please help me clean these up? They can just go on a display by the register, at least the newer ones. And the older ones I'll just put in the back for now."
"Yes, boss," Lindsey said, satisfied that Cassie was not actually hurt, then took as big of an armful of books as she could carry and made her way to the register. Meanwhile, Cassie grabbed as many books as she could carry and took them to the back, where she could look up the love spell without any questions.
Lindsey very, very much wanted to be a witch. Cassie was sure she didn't have a magical bone in her body—and she definitely didn't have any witches in her immediate family—but sometimes wonky things happened when humans started looking at the real spell books, and you couldn't be too cautious.
How to Make Him Fall in Love With You
Ingredients:
1 snip of...
"Cassie?" Lindsey asked.
Cassie spun around, dropping the book. It fell on the floor and slammed shut.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you-"
"You're fine, Lindsey," Cassie said, "What do you need?"
"There's a man here... he said he needs to talk to you."
"Do you know what about?"
Lindsey shook her head. "I couldn't get him to tell me anything. Not his name, not whether it had to do with the store. Nothing. He just seems... desperate."
Cassie picked up the book and set it on her desk, doing her best not to look too interested in it as she did so. "Don't touch that book until I say otherwise," she said, moving to meet the man who apparently was desperately hoping to talk to her.
She prepared to give her "I am not a licensed medical doctor" spiel—it always seemed to be people with some kind of terminal or embarrassing illness that refused to explain their situations to Lindsey—and walked up to him. "Hey there, I'm Cassandra, and I'm the owner of Roots and Gerunds," she said, giving a wave instead of a handshake intentionally. "What can I help you with?" she asked him.
"I'm in grave danger," he said.
"Grave danger, huh?" she raised an eyebrow. It wasn't the first time someone had come into her shop claiming as much, but she knew better than to do more than prompt him to go on at this stage. It was a fifty-fifty chance whether he was a prankster or in need of someone who could work the Craft.
Unfortunately, that person wasn't her, but that wasn't really the point, now was it?
"Mortal danger. I'm going to be stabbed tomorrow," he told her. There are forces bigger than those I understand after me and I don't know who else to turn to. I've just had... visions. And I know it's you and your men who are capable of saving me."
"Me and my men?" Cassandra broke into laughter. "I think you have the wrong idea, sir," she started.
"Rasputin," he said, "the name's Rasputin."
"Rasputin," Cassie started, "I-"
"You're going to tell me you can't help me. I know. But you're wrong: you can. I'm not just another crazy coming into your shop. I see the future. And so do you," he added, a softness in his voice.
She gulped. "I don't have any magic," she said. "I'm a dud."
He shook his head. "Far from it. You and I both know you see the future. What I need to know is if you can tell me... help me scoot things along. I'm after the... the..."
He began coughing, water spewing from out of his mouth as if he were drowning or poisoned. A wound on his chest opened, too, red blood spreading across the nondescript shirt he wore.
But it seemed he was wrong: he did not have until the next day. He didn't even have until that night. Rasputin died on the floor of Roots and Gerunds. Cassandra had been the last person he'd seen, and he'd died asking for her help.
Lindsey had been helping other customers during Cassandra's conversation with Rasputin, and he had died quietly, all the hubbub of his begging for help aside. The other customers left, and Cassandra watched Lindsey's perfect customer service smile fade.
The sound of the bells by the door brought Cassandra's attention back to the situation at hand, and she bounded toward it in a few giant steps. She flipped the sign to closed, then locked the door before Lindsey, bless her, had really taken in the severity of the situation.
She may not have initially watched Rasputin fall, but now, his corpse between them, she started yelling.
"Oh no! What happened? Is he okay?!" she began, leaving Cassandra to do nothing but shake her head in a no.
"He's dead," Cassandra said, "I'm not sure how." She swallowed, trying to figure out next steps.
Police. Right.
"Call the police," she directed Lindsey, who nodded and went to the back room to do so immediately. Meanwhile, Cassandra sat with Rasputin's body, trying to remember a spell—any spell at all—that might be helpful here.
And one she could do quickly, at that, because who knew how long her assistant would stay on the phone?
She took a deep breath and uttered some words she remembered flipping past in the book she'd been using to research love spells. She grabbed the necessary herbs from a nearby display, sprinkling them over h
is body, then muttered one phrase she remembered.
If she was doing it right, it would tell her who had attacked him. Because that was what this was: an attack. One by a witch, it seemed, as there was no other good reason for him to be here otherwise, and there was no other way his death made sense.
She said the words and watched for clues.
"As I was saying," a voice came from in front of her. She opened her eyes and took in the ghost of Rasputin: exactly as he had been a few minutes prior, save that he was a weird blue-green color and transparent. He stood exactly where he'd been standing, too, his feet disappearing into his physical body's arm. "I was here to look for the... stone. I believe it's a stone, anyhow, if I'm reading the ancient language correctly."
"The stone?" Cassandra blinked. There wasn't much else to do; she hadn't expected the spell to work, as hers usually didn't, and she wouldn't have been willing to try one on a living person for a reason.
Not that this worked, really, anyway, since it had not done what she intended it to do, but at least it was something like progress, right?
"Yes, yes, the stone," he said, "there is one such one by the name of, well, the philosopher's stone, so they say, that a man by the name of Nicolas found. Your Nick should be able to help me. That's why I came to you."
Cassandra blinked again and shook her head. "I don't have a man-"
He held up his hand. "There's not much time. Bring me the stone. It will help me... live. Or come back to life? Or at least stay a ghost. Trust me. It will help."
"How am I supposed to help? I don't understand. I don't know anything about the stone."
"It will all become clear. Take your book home with you tonight. Do your love spell with everything you have in you. Tomorrow, you will meet Nick, and the others, and together you will be able to save my life."
Wicked Souls: A Limited Edition Reverse Harem Romance Collection Page 211
