The blonde smiled. “That’s her all right.”
Lena got to her feet, laying the baby in her nearby bassinet, and scooped up the cat. Stroking the animal, she said, “We’re going to miss you around here.”
“We only live a little further around the lake, or up the trail through the woods if you don’t mind a hike,” the blonde said as Lena carried the cat over to her.
“The cabin?” Lena asked. “The one that belonged to a priest?”
The other woman nodded with a wry glance at her husband. “We’ve been away, and Pyewacket here ran away from her sitters.”
She met Lena’s eyes, and it felt to Lena as if the blonde was looking deep inside her. “I’m surprised we haven’t met before,” Lena said.
“Like I said, we’ve been away. Out of the country, in fact. Honeymoon.” She smiled up at the man beside her, then returned to her steady perusal of Lena and offered a hand.
“We’re the Petrosas. This is Tomas, and I’m Indira. Indy for short.” She clasped Lena’s hand as she spoke, and Lena felt as if an electric buzz passed between their palms.
“Indira?” Lena asked, disbelieving.
The other woman blinked, nodded.
“I’m Magdalena. Um, Lena for short.”
The blonde’s eyes widened. “Oh, my Goddess,” she whispered. “Oh, my Goddess, it’s you.” She threw her arms around Lena, then turned to her husband. “It’s her, Tomas. It’s Magdalena!” When she stood back and looked at Lena, there were tears in her eyes. “Man, do we ever need to talk,” she said.
“I guess we do.” Lena looked back at her sleeping baby, her beloved Ryan, the comfy fire crackling in the hearth. She’d thought this was over, but maybe she’d been wrong.
Indira put a hand on her shoulder. “Not now, though,” she said as Lena faced her again. “We haven’t even unpacked, and you—”
“I need some time. We’ve...we’ve been through a lot in the past week.”
“I can only imagine.”
Lena nodded. “Tomorrow, then?”
“Tomorrow,” Indira agreed with a nod. “I have so much to tell you.” She hugged Lena, and Lena hugged her back, feeling a rush of affection for the woman she’d only just met and knowing they were not strangers. They were sisters.
Sisters. Imagine that.
The couple left with their cat, and Lena watched them all the way to their ancient-looking off-white Volvo, then down the drive and out of sight. Ryan came up behind her, reached past her to close the door, then turned her to face him and wrapped his arms around her.
“I thought this was over,” she whispered against his shirt. “Oh, Ryan, I’m not ready for any more. I don’t know if I ever can be.”
“It’s gonna be okay,” he told her. “We’ve already proven that we can get through anything as long as we’re together. We’ve got the most powerful force in the world on our side, Lena. Perfect trust and—”
“Perfect love,” she said with him. “It is perfect, isn’t it?”
He nodded, turning her in his arms and walking her to the bassinet, where they gazed adoringly at their sleeping daughter. “It’s beyond perfect,” he whispered. “It’s a miracle.”
And then he kissed her, and she knew they could face anything as long as they were together.
* * * * *
Look for BLOOD OF THE SORCERESS,
the final volume of “THE PORTAL,”
by New York Times bestselling author Maggie Shayne,
coming in February 2013 from Harlequin MIRA
AUTHOR’S NOTE
The Great Rite mentioned throughout this book is actually better called the Symbolic Great Rite or The Great Rite in Token. It’s symbolic of ritual sex. The “Actual” Great Rite, ritualized intercourse for magical purposes, has been practiced throughout history. In many ancient cultures the High Priestess would offer her body to be used by the Goddess and engage in ritual sex with the chosen king, who was the earthly representative of the Gods. This act served as the king’s anointment and ensured that his reign would be blessed by the Gods, and his lands and people would be fertile, fruitful and productive. The entire idea is based on the understanding that form and force equal life. Form is female energy, the womb. Force is male energy, the seed. The two combined create all life. And this is why Witches today honor that knowledge by recreating the Great Rite symbolically at the beginning of most of their magical workings, through the use of the chalice and the blade.
Also, you may notice that I did not capitalize the word Witch in this book. Normally I would, but in fiction there would have too many instances where the copy editor would have had to figure out whether the word was being used to identify a follower of a given path or with a more general meaning, which would change whether it should be capped. We opted to simplify by using lowercase throughout. Likewise, my use of the word magic, as it pertains to Witchcraft, would normally (among practitioners, at least) be spelled magick to differentiate the kind practiced in the Craft from the kind performed by stage magicians. However, magick is not a word many people know, and it was going to drive the copy editors mad, so we used the mundane spelling.
For more information on Witchcraft and magick, visit: www.ThePortalBooks.com/online-book-shadows.
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ISBN: 9781459248922
DAUGHTER OF THE SPELLCASTER
Copyright © 2012 by Margaret Benson
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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