Moonglow: Blood Magic Book 2

by L.H. Cosway

  Moonglow

  Blood Magic Book Two

  By L.H. Cosway

  Copyright © 2021 L.H. Cosway.

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover design by L.H. Cosway. Cover image from Shutterstock.com.

  www.lhcoswayauthor.com

  PLAYLIST

  To listen to L.H. Cosway’s playlist for Moonglow, go HERE.

  Contents

  1.

  2.

  3.

  4.

  5.

  6.

  7.

  8.

  9.

  10.

  11.

  12.

  13.

  14.

  15.

  16.

  17.

  18.

  19.

  20.

  21.

  Meet the Author

  Books by L.H. Cosway

  “My course is set for an uncharted sea.”

  Dante Alighieri.

  1.

  So … I kind of cheated.

  Yes, I booked a ticket to a city hundreds of miles away, but I also added a stop in Chesterport first. I couldn’t just leave without seeing my dad, and I definitely wanted to check on Florence and make sure she was settled at her grandma’s house.

  I was delaying my journey by a day. It wasn’t a huge deal.

  On the bus ride, I distracted myself from the memory of Ethan’s face as I walked away from him by reading one of the books Gabriel gave me, A Short History of the Twelve Families. If I was going to evade being captured by these people, then I needed to learn everything I could about them. The book contained a full chapter on each family, accompanied by a family tree. The family names included Girard, Ridley, Petrovsky, Dragu, Forbes, O’Quinn, Kanumba, Diego, Baumann, Patel, Tanaka, and Williams. I studied each one, wondering which family my mother came from.

  By the time I reached my stop I’d read all about the Girards and how they’d traced their origins to French witches from the middle ages. It was truly astonishing. I didn’t know anyone who could trace their family that far back.

  As the bus came to its stop in Chesterport, I shoved the book in my bag, climbed off the bus, and started the short walk to my dad’s house. The town was quiet and softly lit by streetlamps. Unlike in the city, everyone here was tucked safely in bed by this hour. Normally, I wouldn’t be on edge walking through the town at night, but there was a vampire governess who’d set her sights on me and I wasn’t able to confirm if Rita’s hex had worked. What if it didn’t and Antonia was sending out a search party at this very moment?

  Well, it wouldn’t be easy to find me. No one knew where my dad lived, and though Ethan might be able to sense my whereabouts through our blood connection, he’d promised he’d keep my location to himself until the connection faded.

  My heart squeezed at the thought of it fading. There was something oddly reassuring about him being able to find me if he needed to.

  I reached my dad’s house and dug out my key, quietly letting myself in. The house was dark, the only source of light coming from a dim lamp left on in the living room. Upstairs, I heard his loud snores. I’d sent a text earlier, letting him know I was on my way, but he must’ve fallen asleep. I carried my bag up to my old bedroom and flopped down onto my bed. The sheets smelled fresh and my heart gave another squeeze—this time at the thought of Dad preparing the room for my visit.

  I closed my eyes, but it was hard not to see Theodore’s crazy face every time I did. I needed to quit worrying. Yes, he’d killed my mother, but he’d been banished to a hell dimension, and whatever that entailed, I was fairly certain he couldn’t come for me again.

  Finally, exhaustion pulled me under, and I fell asleep in my clothes. The next morning, I woke up to the smell of brewing coffee and fried eggs. I smiled fondly. My dad made a mean breakfast. I quickly washed and dressed, then headed downstairs.

  “You hungry, sleepyhead?” Dad asked with a warm grin as I entered the kitchen.

  “Starving,” I replied, walking around the counter to hug him. My stomach gave a hungry grumble as I eyed the bacon, eggs, and freshly buttered toast.

  “It’s good to see you, honey,” he said, giving me a squeeze before letting me go. Emotion clogged my throat because he sounded like he’d missed me. I’d missed him, too. I didn’t want to leave so soon after arriving, but I knew I had to.

  He eyed me as I withdrew to sit on one of the kitchen stools. I lifted a fork and ate a slice of bacon.

  “Is something wrong?” Dad asked, running a hand over his salt and pepper stubble. “You look stressed.”

  I swallowed another bite, wanting to tell him the truth but not sure how he’d take it. It all depended on how much he really knew about my mother.

  I cleared my throat. “Dad, I need to ask you a serious question.”

  He studied me closely now. “Okay.”

  “How did Mum really die?”

  His expression clouded as his complexion paled. “Why do you ask that?”

  “Just tell me. I know she didn’t die from cancer.”

  “Tegan, I’m not sure what’s going on with you, but—”

  “Somebody took her, didn’t they?”

  Dad turned away now, his shoulders tense. When he turned back around, he looked perturbed. “Who have you been talking to?”

  “I’ve made some discoveries about myself recently. About Mum, too. I know she was hunted and that the person who hunted her got her in the end.”

  “But how can you possibly know—”

  “I know because the same person tried to come for me.” Dad paled further, his hands fisting at his sides. “Don’t worry. He’s been taken care of. My friend banished him to a hell dimension so he won’t be bothering us again.”

  “I think I need to sit down.” He sounded out of it as he went into the living room and sat on the couch. I lowered into the space beside him and took his hand into mine. “Mum was a witch, wasn’t she?” I said softly.

  He didn’t answer, just sat there silently, looking like his mind was a million miles away.

  “She spent her whole life hiding,” Dad finally replied with a catch in his voice. “When we met, she didn’t tell me the truth for a long time. I had no idea about the world she came from, about witches and magical families and vampires. It took a while for me to get my head around it, and then, after you were born she said there was a chance the same people who hunted her would try to hunt you. She said she cast a spell to hide you, so no one would ever know what you were.”

  “The spell is still intact, but some people found out about me anyway.” Dad looked like he was going to be sick. “That’s why I can’t stay. I have to go far away; somewhere they won’t find me.”

  Pain shone in his eyes. He looked heartbroken. I was, too. I didn’t want to go. I wished there was a way that I could hide right here in Chesterport, but it was too risky. This town was far too close to the city. Dad rose silently and went upstairs. When he returned, he carried an envelope and a small handgun.

  “Where the hell did you get that?” I said, eyes wide.

  “It’s registered and legal. I want you to have it. For protection.”

  “What about you? If anyone comes to you looking for me, you’ll need to be able to defend yourself.”

  “Don’t fret about me. I have more where that one came from. If anyone comes sniffing around, I’ll blow their heads clean off.”

  Wow. This was a side
to my father I’d never seen before. “I don’t have the first clue how to shoot a gun.”

  “We’ll drive out to the woods this afternoon, and I’ll teach you. It’s not complicated. You’ll get the hang of it quick enough. You can also take the Volkswagen. I don’t want you riding the bus. It’s too risky.”

  “Seriously?”

  He came forward and gripped my shoulders. “I’d do anything for you, honey.”

  I sniffed, trying not to cry. “Okay, well, I need to visit a friend of mine before I go. It won’t take long.”

  Dad nodded and handed me the envelope. “Here’s some cash, too. It’ll help you get settled.”

  I peered inside the envelope. “This is way too much, Dad.”

  His lips formed a straight line like he was trying to hold in his emotions. “Just take it. It’s the least I can do.”

  Sadness constricted my throat, cutting off my words, and I nodded solemnly, accepting the money.

  “Come on,” he said, motioning me back into the kitchen. “Let’s finish breakfast before it goes cold.”

  ***

  After breakfast, I walked the short distance to Florence’s grandmother’s house. It was in a quiet part of town where mostly older people lived. It must have been a pleasant change for her compared to the noise and bustle of the city. The house was picture-perfect with its neat flower beds and hedgerows out front.

  I’d texted ahead to let her know I was coming, and the door flew open as soon as I stepped foot on the front stoop.

  “Tegan!” Florence exclaimed, hurtling forward and throwing her arms around me. I was a little stunned by her hug and how happy she was to see me, but it was nice to see her looking so healthy and cheerful.

  “Florence, you look great,” I said, taking her in. She couldn’t have been here more than a day and already her skin looked brighter and her long, straight hair was clean and washed.

  “Thanks. Come on in and meet Gran. I’ve been telling her all about you.”

  I stepped inside the cosy house and was immediately met with the pleasant scent of jasmine and lemon balm. An older woman sat in the living room with some knitting on her lap. She had grey hair pulled into a long plait and a kindly face, reminding me of the grandmother from The Witches.

  “Hello. It’s Tegan, isn’t it?” she said with a warm smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.” She set her knitting down and came to shake my hand. “Young Florence has been telling me all about you and how kind you’ve been to her. I can’t tell you how grateful I am. My ne’er do well of a son has put this poor girl through the ringer.”

  So, she was aware that Terry was scum? I was glad she wasn’t one of those parents who believed their children could do no wrong, even when they were the worst of the worst. Maybe Florence would be okay here. Judging from first impressions, her grandma seemed like a nice lady. I knew appearances could be deceptive, but I didn’t get any bad vibes from her.

  “Well, Flo has been a good friend to me. I was glad to help her out,” I said.

  “Please, take a seat. I’ll make us some tea.”

  She went to the kitchen while I sat down on the couch. Florence took the armchair across from me. “She seems lovely,” I said encouragingly.

  “She is. I really like it here.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad.” I shot a glance in the direction of the kitchen before lowering my voice. “Isn’t it strange, though, that your dad just randomly decided to send you here? It seems almost too good to be true.” I thought of the night Ethan had compelled Terry never to hit Florence again and wondered if he’d paid him another visit. If he had, then I wasn’t mad about it. Florence was much better off here with her Grandma.

  “I agree, it’s strange,” she replied. “But I’m not going to question it. I’m starting a new school next week, and this town is so quaint. I’d rather finish school here than back in the city. This is a good thing, Tegan.”

  “If you’re happy, then I’m happy,” I said, eyeing her closely. I continued speaking quietly, “I also wanted to ask you something a little unusual.”

  “Oh?”

  I took a deep breath, weighing my words, before levelling my gaze on her. “Are you different, Flo?”

  She stiffened, worrying her lip as she replied, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, are you like everybody else or is there something about you that’s not quite … normal?” When she didn’t answer, I hurried to add, “Because I’m not quite normal either.”

  At this, her eyes lit up. She opened her mouth, about to say something, but her grandma returned at that moment with the tea. Great. The woman had perfect timing. We sat and made polite chit chat for a while before it was time for me to leave.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Florence said, guiding me to the front door. She was quiet as she accompanied me to the end of the garden. Her grandma remained in the house, her focus on her knitting.

  “To answer y-y-your question,” Florence began nervously. “No, I’m not normal.” She could barely meet my eyes when she said it. She looked almost ashamed. “And please don’t be mad, but I know you aren’t normal either. It’s why I’ve always trusted you.”

  “How do you know that about me?”

  She waved her arms around me. “I can see it. You’re different. It’s plain as day to someone like me.”

  “Someone like you?”

  She snuck a glance back at the house before whispering, “I’ve never told anyone this, so it’s a little n-n-nerve-wracking for me.”

  “Don’t be nervous. I won’t tell a soul. I know how to keep a secret.”

  “I can see auras,” she confessed in a whisper. “They show me people’s emotions. Like right now, I can see that you’re eager to l-leave. You’re not staying here in Chesterport, are you?” Her expression was glum, and I felt bad that I couldn’t stick around for her.

  “You’re right. I am eager to leave, but it’s nothing to do with you. It’s because of what I am. It’s dangerous for me to stay here.”

  Florence nodded, a sense of wisdom in her gaze that was far beyond her years. “I see.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes. I can see that what you’re doing is for the best, even though I’m going to be sad to see you l-l-leave.”

  I reached out and pulled her into a hug. “I’ll miss you.”

  She accepted the hug, and we stood there for a long moment. When she pulled back, her face was worried. “Will you let me know when you get to wherever you’re going? Just let me know you’re safe?”

  “I will. I promise.”

  We exchanged one final hug, and my chest felt too tight. There were so many people I had to leave behind, and it was killing me. I began the walk back to Dad’s house, and my chest squeezed even tighter knowing I only had a few hours left with him. The road I had ahead of me was a painfully lonely one, but I could handle it. I’d survived this far, and I was damned if I was going to give up now.

  Steely determination formed in my gut. I could do this. I could start a brand-new life far from here and evade all the people who wanted to find me …

  Right?

  2.

  6 months later

  It seemed like a sick joke that the first job I managed to secure in my new city was at a grocery store almost identical to Hagen’s. However, I stipulated that I wouldn’t be available to work any night shifts, so there was that. Typically, I was back in my apartment before it got dark and I didn’t leave again until morning. Avoiding going out at night had become a new habit.

  At least I knew I wouldn’t encounter any vampires during the day.

  It was starting to wear me down though. I needed to get out and socialise. I couldn’t remain a hermit for much longer and retain my sanity. On the way home from one of my shifts I spotted a flyer for an art exhibition happening at a gallery nearby. My heart filled with longing just looking at it. I wanted to go, enjoy a glass of wine, admire some art, and perhaps even make small talk with strangers.

  I
was still thinking about the exhibition when I got home and ate dinner.

  I could go, right? No one had come looking for me so far. If I was lucky, they’d moved on to something else and wouldn’t even be thinking about me anymore.

  Oh, to hell with it, I needed a night out. Just one night. I rifled through my clothes and found my best pair of jeans and a pretty cream blouse. I ran a brush through my hair, which used to be longer but was now shoulder length. I also bleached two strands at the front as something of a disguise, but also because I thought it made me look like Rogue from X-Men.

  When I reached the gallery, it wasn’t too busy. I paid the entry at the door and stepped inside, gladly accepting the complimentary glass of Prosecco from a smartly dressed waiter. The work of several artists was being displayed, but one collection, in particular, caught my attention. The style reminded me of the expressionists, and I stood admiring a painting of a Japanese garden.

  “Are you the artist?” a man asked. He’d come to stand next to me, and I cast him a quick side glance. He was attractive, probably in his forties, and wore a suit.

  “Me? No. I was just admiring it.”

  “Oh. I thought you might be one of the artists,” he explained with a smile. “You have the look.”

  I guessed he was referring to my somewhat eccentric white hair strands. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, about to move on when he asked, “Can I get you another drink?”

  Was he chatting me up? My stomach twisted up into knots as I gave a polite smile and declined, “No, but thank you for the offer.”

  He looked a little crestfallen when I walked away. I’d thought I was ready to interact with people, but I felt completely out of practice. I wasn’t ready to accept drinks and flirt with a sexy, older businessman. I needed a few more practice outings first.

  I moved on to the next painting, and the gallery began to fill up. I stood back and took in the people. Most were well-dressed, professional types. It was a new habit of mine to scan any room I found myself in, always on the alert for possible danger. The man who’d offered to buy me a drink had moved his attention to a leggy brunette in a blue dress.