Legacy of Magic
Page 1
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Legacy of Magic
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Seven
For a Sneak Peek at Book Two
Chapter One
A word about the author…
Thank you for purchasing
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His normal blue jeans were replaced with black. The customarily tight T-shirt was now a blue, button down shirt opened at the throat. Damn, it matched his eyes.
Eyes that were making a very slow, thorough, perusal of her before meeting her gaze. “Must admit, I thought you might stand me up.”
Now why hadn’t that occurred to her?
“The thought never crossed my mind. I follow through when I say I’m going to do something. Although, technically I don’t think I actually accepted your invitation.”
“Sure, you did. You said 6:15. That implied acceptance.”
Cory rolled her eyes. “We both know if Aunt Addy hadn’t been there, I would’ve said no very clearly.”
“Maybe, but then we’d both be left wondering what the two of us together might be like. Personally, I prefer a more direct approach.”
Her foot began to tap. “Oh really? Maneuvering me into a date is direct? And for the record, I wouldn’t be wondering about anything. You and I are not going to get together.” Her hand waved back and forth between them. “We can’t even be in the same room for a few minutes without arguing.”
Finn laughed. “This isn’t arguing.”
“Oh really, what would you call it?”
He leaned toward her and whispered, “Foreplay.”
Legacy of Magic
by
Denise Carbo
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.
Legacy of Magic
COPYRIGHT © 2018 by Denise Carbo
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com
Cover Art by Rae Monet Inc Design
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Fantasy Rose Edition, 2018
Print ISBN 978-1-5092-2245-2
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-2246-9
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my Dad: You are missed every day.
Acknowledgments
I would like to send a heartfelt thank you to my editor, Amanda Barnett, for seeing something of value in my writing and offering me my first publishing contract for “Bloodlines,” and my second for “Legacy of Magic.” Without her taking a chance on an unpublished aspiring writer my dream of seeing my stories in print (or digital) would not have come to fruition last year.
In that vein, I need to thank the entire team at The Wild Rose Press. I have learned so much as a result of their tireless efforts. A special thank you to Rae Monet for creating the beautiful covers for both my books.
My dream wouldn’t be possible without the endless support of my wonderful husband. When that nasty self-doubt creeps in he’s always there to shine some desperately needed positive encouragement.
Finally, thank you to my family and friends, your interest and support means the world to me and you have my everlasting gratitude.
Prologue
Tendrils of mist snaked along the forest floor. The full moon guided her hurried steps. Foreboding drenched her senses. Nerves taut, Josephine paused beneath a towering oak and placed her palm against the ridged bark of its massive trunk—seeking the comfort it usually bestowed. Fear and urgency shrouded her like the dark cloak she wore. Her gaze searched the murky path behind her.
Nothing stirred.
An eerie silence stretched across the dark woods. The scurrying and calls of night creatures were absent. Josephine took several small steps forward. She was already late.
Her coven waited. They needed to decide on a plan of protection and detection. Two members had already mysteriously disappeared. Fear ran rampant throughout the coven. Some whispered they were under attack. By whom, they didn’t know. But why, they could guess. Power. Their coven consisted of twelve of the most powerful witches ever born. Each a master in their discipline of the four elements.
Delicate ferns flicked at her ankles. A branch snatched the edge of her hood and halted her progress. Josephine freed the material only to have another branch snag in her hair. She stood motionless and examined the path ahead. The clearing where they always met wasn’t too far away. She could be there in just a few moments. She studied the plants along her path. Branches, twigs, even the leaves were arching onto the trail blocking her way.
She took a cautious step back. Her hand covered the precious life already growing inside her. A rare vision had shown her the child she carried. Not even a month along.
She would not risk this cherished gift.
Josephine veered back toward her home.
A twig snapped behind her.
She didn’t look back.
She ran.
A spell whispered from her lips, “Plants of the Earth, hear my call. Protect our flight. Hide us from sight.” She repeated the words three times as she continued to run.
Roots broke through the ground behind her to hinder the steps of those who pursued her.
Branches and vines stretched across the path to hide and block.
A plan formed in her head. She and Adam, her husband, would disappear. Flee England and go to the American colonies. She would have to bind her power. There was no other way. Those seeking her would sense it and find her. She must bind it and hide it until it was safe. Safe to pass on to her child.
Chapter One
“Time to face facts Cory, you’re lost.” Cory glanced down at the car’s navigation system for the dozenth time in the last half hour. She didn’t recognize any of the street names. The GPS had directed her off the highway and onto back roads, each smaller than the last. Nothing looked familiar.
“Take the next left,” the English sounding navigation voice intoned.
“Left? What left? I see trees,” she mumbled.
Granted it had been quite a while since she’d been here. Not since she was a kid. The last few times she’d seen her, Aunt Addy had traveled to her parents’ home in New York. She remembered her aunt’s house was perched on a small hill on a corner. There were a few other hous
es on the road. The town should be just a short distance away. So where on earth was she?
There…was that a road? Good grief is that dirt?
Sure enough, the next left was a dirt road. Cory made the turn and stopped. Should she turn around? Maybe she should go back and find some civilization and ask for directions. The map looked like it opened up to more streets ahead. Should she chance it?
Why not? Live a little.
She crept down the road. There were no pot holes or ruts. It was in pretty good shape. At least she wouldn’t damage her car. The last thing she needed was a car repair bill to put a drain on her savings. Cory was on a tight budget until she could get a job.
Ooh…a mailbox, and another just ahead. So maybe she wouldn’t end up as a headline after all. “Woman lost in the wilds of Connecticut.” She snickered. Who knew Connecticut had wilds to get lost in?
Cory glimpsed pavement ahead. “Yahoo,” she muttered.
Two turns later, she loosened her tight grip on the steering wheel and relaxed against the headrest. She might be headed in the right direction after all, and if not, there were at least houses around if she got into trouble.
“In a quarter of a mile take a right-hand turn.” The disembodied voice was really starting to get on her nerves. Whoever decided an English voice was the way to go anyway? Personally, she’d like to hear someone soothing yet confident, like a professor type with a Southern drawl or an Irish lilt.
Cory looked at the map on the navigation screen to try to read the name of the road. Clarkhill, that’s Aunt Addy’s road! Finally.
The squeal of tires jerked her gaze back to the road.
A neon green sports car barreled straight for her.
She yanked the wheel to the right and slammed her foot onto the brake pedal. Her white, luxury sedan hit the dirt on the side of the road and slid out of her control. Her white knuckles gripped the steering wheel as the small car rocked back and forth gently before stopping completely in the shallow ditch running parallel to the road.
Her door was wrenched open. “Are you hurt?” The gravelly voice echoed from somewhere above the roof of her car. She stared at a pair of jean-clad thighs before whispering, “I don’t think so.”
“Then do you mind telling me what the hell you were doing driving on my side of the road,” the harsh voice demanded?
She gasped and pried her fingers off the steering wheel. Her fingers ached slightly. “Your side? What were you doing driving like a bat out of hell?”
A pair of furious, ice blue eyes suddenly appeared in her line of vision. “What speed I was driving wouldn’t have mattered a damn if you had been on your side of the road!”
Cory clenched her hands in her lap and glared at the man. One arm rested on her roof as he leaned down to give her a withering glare. Rich black hair fell haphazardly around his head in a complete absence of style. Five o’clock shadow darkened his strong jaw, despite it being nowhere near five o’clock. In the back of her mind she registered she would find him quite handsome if she wasn’t so pissed off at him.
“Back. Up,” she uttered through clenched teeth, as she disengaged her seatbelt and began the arduous and ungraceful process of climbing out of her car. Luckily, he complied and shifted to stand at the side of her tilted vehicle. He offered her his hand, which she ignored. As she finally made it out and stood beside him, the realization dawned she needed to look up quite a bit to meet his gaze. One dark brow shot up while he scanned her from head to toe.
She spotted his car parked on the shoulder of the opposite side of the road. The sports car didn’t look to be suffering any damage. What was he complaining about? She was the one sitting in a ditch, and she refused to believe it was her fault. “I hope you have insurance.”
He folded his arms across his middle and leaned back against her car. “It’s not my insurance you need to worry about, sweetheart, it’s your own.”
Insufferable man.
“Take a look at those skid marks between your car and mine.” He gestured to the road with a lift of his chin. “Those wider, deeper skid marks are mine. Notice they’re all on my side of the yellow line. Now take a look at yours, the narrower set. Which side of the line do they start on?”
Crap!
Damn it. Okay she had looked down at the GPS, but only briefly. Cory closed her eyes and sighed before turning back to Mr. Tall, Dark, and Annoying. She really, really, hated to eat humble pie.
“I might have drifted slightly onto the other side of the road,” she grudgingly admitted. “But if you hadn’t been driving so fast my car wouldn’t be practically on its side in that—trench right now.”
“Perhaps if you knew how to drive, your car wouldn’t be in a ditch.”
“Listen you male chauvinistic…”
He held up a hand to silence her. “It has nothing to do with you being a woman, just a bad driver. Now go stand out of the way while I check out the damage to your car.”
“Why you arrogant—”
“Do you want to get out of this ditch or not lady?”
Cory stalked to the front of her car. The smell of burnt rubber scented the air. She wiped her clammy palms on her jean clad thighs.
Her foot started tapping as he got down on the ground to look under her car. It rested at an angle making it easier for him to examine the undercarriage. He just assumed she didn’t know anything about cars because she was a woman. How did he know she wasn’t an expert? For that matter, what did he know? He could make matters worse and then where would she be?
He stood up and wiped his hands together. “Doesn’t look like you bent the axle, but you’re going to need a tow truck to get you out of here. You should have it fully checked out before driving it again. There’s a decent garage over in Bensonhurst, about an hour north of here.”
“What about Allendale, that’s where I’m headed.”
“You’re in Allendale.”
She inwardly sighed in relief. “Oh good, isn’t there a mechanic around here?”
The man smirked. “Yeah, but I don’t think you’d want him working on your car.”
“Why not? He’s not any good?”
“Oh, he’s good, but he’s also picky about the cars he works on and doesn’t take kindly to being called chauvinistic, arrogant, or run off the road test driving a six-figure car for a client.”
Double crap!
Fine, Bensonhurst it is. Time to regroup. First she needed to find a way to get to her aunt’s.
Cory started moving in the direction of her car to get her cell phone and insurance information just in case there was damage to his car, or the client’s car. “I’ll give you my insurance information, so you can be on your way.”
He stood next to her car with his hands on his hips while she scrambled to the glove compartment and back out, grimacing as she bumped her knees against the console, and handed him her insurance card.
“New Jersey? What are you doing in Allendale?”
“Visiting my great aunt.” She pointed to her insurance card. “Can you just take a picture of that with your phone?”
“Your aunt wouldn’t happen to be Adelaide Stone, would she?”
Was the town that small? “Yes, why?”
A harsh sigh accompanied him handing back her insurance card. “’Cause she happens to be my neighbor, and she said her niece was coming to stay with her. Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”
He started walking over to the green sports car while she stood there debating whether to accept the grudgingly offered ride or stay and try to call a tow truck or taxi, or something. Did they have taxis out here? It would probably be better to get to her aunt’s and then figure out how to get a tow truck out for her car. Her rude rescuer was already opening the driver side door before she made her decision. Cory grabbed her purse and hightailed it across the road—before he changed his mind. If she was completely honest with herself, she couldn’t really blame him if he did. But who said she wanted to be honest with herself?
&n
bsp; ****
Before Cory could come up with something to say to diffuse the tense situation with her aunt’s, and probably her, neighbor the man drove into the driveway of the old Victorian her aunt called home. It was a grand old lady, white in color, decorated with ornate trim work, and a large wraparound porch. The gardens she remembered surrounding the home were in disarray and overgrown. Apparently, her mother was right, and it was getting to be too much for Aunt Addy to take care of. Well she was here now, and she could help.
Cory extended her hand to her new-found nemesis and reluctant rescuer. “We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. Since we’re apparently going to be neighbors why don’t we let bygones be bygones. My name is Coralea Bishop.”
He stared at her outstretched hand, making no move to shake it. She was about to drop it and give him another tongue lashing on his rudeness when he smirked and enveloped her hand with his. His skin was warm and rough from calluses, and it swallowed her hand whole.
“Finn D’Orsey.”
“Thank you for the ride Mr. D’Orsey.” He was already sliding out of the car, so Cory scrambled to do the same. Apparently, he planned to accompany her into her aunt’s. Was he planning on tattling on her? For gosh sake, she felt like a child about to get in trouble. Well, if he was going to tell on her, she was going to tell on him. So there. She wanted to stick her tongue out at him, and if he had been in front of her instead of in back of her, she would have.
The door opened as she approached the front steps. She looked up with a bright smile ready to greet her aunt, only to find a tall, handsome blond man in the doorway. He was dressed in a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled back and black trousers. He stared, piercingly at her for a moment before a welcoming grin spread across his face. Wow, someone should bottle that magnetism.
“You must be Coralea. Adelaide has been waiting, eagerly, for your arrival.” He stepped out onto the porch and took hold of her arm, gently directing her into the house. “I’m Sebastian Marks, Adelaide’s lawyer, and friend I hope.” He completely ignored Finn D’Orsey.
Sebastian led her through the two-story foyer into the living room to the right of the stairs. Little had changed over the years. A floral covered sofa and two wingback chairs were grouped together on an oriental rug in front of the marble fireplace. The smell of jasmine reached her, and she spotted the tea cup on the table next to her aunt.