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The Paranormal Research and Rescue Institute Books 1-3: Books 1-3 in the Paranormal Research and Rescue Institute Series

Page 4

by Lora Edwards


  “An hour! No way can I get everything in order in an hour!” Ovidia looked at Teagan in horror.

  “Well, I did not bring half of everything I own, so I can get settled much faster. I suppose we could carve out some time for shopping, as well?”

  “I am glad you recognize my superior fashion sense, and that you are not getting out of some shopping in your future. In exchange for your accompanying me on my fashion journey, I will go with you on one of your Ripper walks.”

  Teagan stopped at the door of her suite, looking at Ovidia, who had stopped down the hallway at the door to her suite. “Vid, that is sweet of you, but you know you are not obligated to come with me.”

  “I know, but you never know, I might learn something, and you never know when it may come in handy,” Ovidia said, slipping the key into the lock of her room, and slipping inside before Teagan could respond.

  “Vid, you surprise me sometimes,” she said to the empty hallway as she too slipped her key in the lock and opened the door to the suite that would be her home for the next few months. Leave it to her parents to book a suite in one of the most exclusive and famous hotels in London; she would have been perfectly fine in a small flat somewhere, maybe one with a view of the Thames or Big Ben.

  Walking through the parlor of the suite and to the large window, she realized she had gotten her view. Looking down, she could see the Thames sluggishly flowing its way through London Town. The water, which was clear now, had been a dirty mess in the time of the Ripper. Teagan again felt the tingle of excitement that she would see the place where she was born, and the sights the Ripper and his victims had seen every day.

  Teagan turned and surveyed the suite. The living room was done in creams and yellows, with a long sectional stretching out in the middle and plush throw pillows lining the couch, all anchored by an elegant patterned rug. Two cream-colored chairs flanked the fireplace and invited one to have a glass of brandy and sit by the fire. Gilt tables were scattered around the room with tall vases of pale yellow roses peeking their heads out of crystal vases, giving the room the slight sweet scent of roses in full bloom.

  Running her hand down the back of the couch, Teagan wandered past the elegant glass table set for two and opened the door to the bedroom. Here the cream-and-yellow theme continued, the grand four-poster bed piled high with pillows. Another vase of roses sat on the bedside table, so fresh that dew still clung to the petals.

  Teagan deposited her bag and took a quick peek through the adjoining room into the bathroom where, acres of marble counters, fluffy towels hanging on warming racks, and a jetted tub, greeted her. Teagan shook her head. She would have been happy in a little creaky flat, but her parents loved elegance and style. That said, it would not be a hardship to soak in that tub, or to sleep in that bed, safe and cozy under the mounds of blankets and pillows.

  She quickly settled into her suite and fired off a quick text to Ovidia telling her she would meet her in the lobby in twenty minutes. She then dialed her mother, smiling, and sinking down into the couch as a lilting voice came over the line.

  “Teagan, did you make it in and get settled? How was the flight?’

  “Vid and I checked into our suites and the flight was fine—I slept through the whole thing,” Teagan said ruefully.

  “You must be nice and rested then for your first day in London. I take it you have already scheduled several tours?”

  Teagan laughed; her mother knew her well. “Yes, I have. The first one is a Ripper walk and starts shortly, but there is also the tour of London, Buckingham Palace, and Highclere Castle, just to name a few.”

  Her mother’s laughter came through the phone like trilling bells. “Well Teagan, you never disappoint. That brain of yours is always working. Please tell me you have penciled in some time for dinner with your parents and grandfather in the midst of all your historical research.”

  “I assumed we would meet up with Grandpa tonight for dinner.”

  “Yes, he will meet us in the dining room at 7 there at the hotel, does that work well for you?”

  “Yes, the tour will be done by then and that still gives me a little time for sightseeing, and Vid wants to go shopping.”

  “That girl loves her shoes,” her mother said with a laugh in her voice. “Okay darling, we will see you in the dining room at 7. As always, tell Ovidia she is more than welcome.”

  “Will do Mom. Love you, and tell Dad I love him too.”

  “I will. Enjoy your tour, and don’t forget to check in with your grandfather—and Teagan, your father and I love you very much.”

  “Love you too Mom.

  Her mother disconnected and a frown crossed Teagan’s face. Everyone was acting strange; her mother always told her she loved her, but not in that way, as if she would doubt the love of her own parents. Shaking off the strange feeling, Teagan picked up the phone again. Checking in with her grandfather was her next call.

  “Hello, my girl, are you getting settled in?”

  Teagan smiled at the sound of his voice. “Yes Grandpa, I am settled in. I am going on a walking tour of Whitechapel; a Ripper walk. How are things at the museum?”

  “The same, the same. I cannot wait to see you tonight at dinner—your parents informed you of the dinner, didn’t they?”

  “Yes, they did. I’ll be there.”

  “See you soon girl—don’t get so caught up in the sightseeing and forget.”

  Teagan laughed, checking her watch. “Okay Grandpa, I won’t forget. I have to get going so I am not late for the tour.”

  “See you soon,” he chuckled before signing off.

  Teagan ended the call and walked into the bedroom of the suite where she had laid out a pair of dark blue skinny jeans and a long oatmeal-colored sweater. She grabbed a quick shower, dressed, brushed out her hair, and added some light makeup. Slipping her feet in a pair of butter-soft ankle boots and setting an alarm on her phone that gave her plenty of time to come home and change for dinner, she grabbed her keycard and set off to meet Ovidia. It was her first time in London and she could not wait to see all she could see.

  She was even okay with all the shopping Vid would drag her to—maybe she would even buy a new dress for dinner later that night to celebrate her return to her birthplace. Teagan found a comfortable upholstered armchair in the lobby and settled in to people watch. She was a few minutes early, and she knew Vid loved to primp before an outing. She wouldn’t be showing up until the exact time, if not a bit after.

  “Hello again, are you enjoying our fine city so far?”

  She glanced back and spotted Bran, the man they had encountered in the bar back home. Teagan turned and frowned toward the upper-class British accent.

  “Hello again,” Teagan responded. “What brings you to the Savoy?”

  “Museum business, hush hush you know.” He grinned at her, showing the dimples she had noticed last time she saw him

  “Yes, guarding rare books and treasures obviously leads to clandestine meetings in elegant hotels.” Teagan’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

  Bran frowned in response. “Temper, temper, Princess. The museum conducts many a secret transaction.”

  Princess?

  Looking at his watch and back at Teagan, Bran gave her that same cocky grin. “At that, I better get back to it.” He strode away, leaving Teagan with her mouth open.

  Damn him and his dimples, the cocky bastard, she thought as she sat back on the bench, another glance at her watch showing her that Ovidia was late…again.

  Teagan very much hoped her work for her grandpa and the British Museum didn’t have her interacting with Bran regularly. “What a jerk,” Teagan mumbled to herself as Ovidia walked up, looking more as if she was ready for a Paris fashion show than a walking tour.

  “Who is a jerk?” Ovidia asked as Teagan stood from the comfortable chair and the pair walked toward the front doors.

  “I had another run-in with your friend Bran while I was waiting. He kind of gets under my skin.”
r />   “Yes, well, Bran is an acquired taste—the Dragos normally are.”

  “Dragos? What is that?” Teagan asked, looking at Ovidia.

  “His family name—they are an old Welsh family,” Ovidia said quickly.

  “Welsh, huh—then why does he sound like a British prep school attendant,” Teagan asked ungraciously.

  “He spent most of his schooling years at a British boarding school. The Welsh comes out when he is angry or tired, I am sure you will experience the former at some point, everyone at the institute—I mean the museum has.”

  Teagan wondered what she had been about to say. Vid had been different the past few weeks, since they had made their plans to come to London, more guarded almost. She mulled over what she had said. Angry or tired? What kind of relationship did they have? She had known Ovidia most of her life, and Teagan never remembered hearing Vid talk about a Bran. She felt annoyed to feel a small sliver of jealousy at her words. She wondered if they had dated in the past.

  It didn’t matter—he was a jerk, and she was there to work, not to flirt…not that she was any good at that, anyway. Teagan shook her head again and linked arms with Ovidia. “Ready to meet the Ripper?”

  Ovidia raised an eyebrow, a funny smile crossing her face. “The question is, are you?” She held the serious look for a moment and then laughed.

  Teagan laughed along with her as they climbed into the car hired to take them to Whitechapel. That was a joke, right? Teagan thought; Ovidia had looked so serious for a moment there.

  Teagan looked over and Ovidia was busy texting, so she enjoyed the sights from the window until they pulled up to the tour company that would show them around.

  “Can you believe it! I cannot believe we saw all the sights the Ripper saw, and even though I knew all that information, it was still just amazing to see the spots and feel the place.”

  Ovidia stood in place, looking amused as Teagan babbled on for a few more moments, still wrapped up in the tour they had just taken.

  “Okay, now it’s over with and we can begin the real fun—shopping.”

  Teagan felt as if she had walked a million miles. Between the tour and Ovidia dragging her in and out of shops all over London, it felt as if she had run a marathon. All she wanted to do was take a long hot bath, switch on the fire in her suite, and snuggle down with tea and a good book.

  She had bought a new dress for dinner, a classic cocktail dress with a high neckline and snug fit down to her waist that flared out in a full skirt, hitting just at the top of her knee. In a rich deep purple, it was perfect for dinner. Of course, she had to have the perfect shoes as well, a pair of shimmering ivory heels and matching clutch. Teagan had tried to impress upon Ovidia that it was just a family dinner, but Ovidia had insisted.

  “A dinner at the Savoy calls for elegance, regardless of whose company you are keeping,” Ovidia had said.

  Teagan had to agree—you couldn’t wear just any old thing to dinner at the Savoy. She had plenty of respectable outfits that would have done, but she had to admit, Vid had excellent taste.

  She again looked down at the pretty, but dreaded high heels, sighed, slipped into them, grabbed her key card, and walked out to go down to the dining room for dinner. At least she would spend most of her time sitting, and the shoes were fabulous.

  Teagan pushed the elevator button and stepped into the waiting car, smiling at the other well-dressed occupants. Reaching the lobby, she stepped out and looked around for her parents and grandfather. Not seeing them, she walked toward the dining room of the hotel, but was stopped in her tracks by a low whistle.

  Turning around, a smile already brightening her face, she said, “Dad.”

  He was a distinguished-looking man with the same emerald eyes as her own, tall and elegant in a charcoal suit paired with a silver-grey shirt set off by a black silk tie. His dark hair had faded to silver, but that just added to his classic, good looks.

  “You look beautiful—went shopping with Ovidia this afternoon I take it,” he asked as he admired her new dress.

  Hugging her father and inhaling the aroma of Old Spice and his unique scent, she looked around him for the others.

  “Where are Mom and Grandpa, she asked, not seeing them behind her father.

  “Your mother is securing a table in the dining room and your grandpa was just here…” Her father trailed off as a booming laugh echoed across the lobby of the elegant hotel.

  Teagan saw her grandpa standing next to Ovidia, the two chatting away like long-lost friends.

  Ovidia had always loved her grandpa and when her parents had been too busy to come visit, Ovidia had often traveled with Teagan’s grandpa to America. Teagan and her father walked across the lobby to join them.

  “Isn’t she a bit young for you Hugh,” Thallan asked with an arched eyebrow.

  “Aye she is, but I am not after catching her with my looks boy—I’m sure she will fall for my Welsh charm.”

  “He is a charmer, that is for sure.” Ovidia smiled and kissed Hugh’s wrinkled cheek then greeted my father with a hug. “Good to see you again Thallan.”

  “Are you not joining us for dinner,” he asked Ovidia.

  “No, I have people to see, places to go. I have been away from the scene in America, and I have to get caught up, you know.” With one more squeeze of Hugh’s arm and a wave to Teagan, Ovidia was off across the lobby to join a handful of young, well-dressed people.

  “Well there boy, you scared off my date. I guess I will just have to take this one off your hands. My girlie, don’t you look pretty.”

  “You look dapper as well Grandpa,” Teagan said as she hugged him. “I would be glad to be your date.”

  “That is an offer this old man will not be turning down. Come on, that food smells good and I am starving.”

  Inside, the dining room was lit with crystal chandeliers that gave off a warm low light, outlining tables dressed in cream linens, sparkling crystal, and the bone china adorning each place setting.

  “You rascal, you found a lovely girl for a date didn’t you.” Seraphim smiled at Teagan and her grandfather.

  “Aye I did, and I don’t have to worry about the boy stealing her from me, now do I,” he said, sticking a thumb out in her father’s direction. “He stole the last pretty lass I had on my arm he did. I intend to keep this one a bit longer.”

  Thallan rolled his eyes at the old lament and led the way to a table in the back, his hand resting on his wife’s waist.

  Teagan sighed. She hoped someday she would find a love such as what her parents had. They loved each other fiercely, even after 30 years together. They were each other’s partners and best friends; and, to Teagan’s mind, that was the way it should be.

  Her father took her grandpa’s good-natured teasing well, but from the stories, her grandpa had put up quite a fight when her father had asked for her mother’s hand. He had, in his own words, “finally relented—the boy was not giving up, no he wasn’t.”

  Her grandfather pulled out her chair as her father did the same for her mother. Once seated, they ordered food and wine. Teagan sat back in her chair and just grinned at her family. “I wanted to say how excited I am to be here with all of you, in London. I don’t know why, but it feels like I am in the place where I belong,” Teagan said. She noticed her parents give each other a look and her grandpa break out in a smile.

  “Lass, that is because this is where you belong, where you will learn about your heritage and your true calling.”

  “Dad, please, let’s at least eat dinner before we get into all that,” her mother admonished.

  Hugh humphed and sat back in his chair, fiddling with his glass. “I cannot believe you have not told her yet. She deserves to know, will have to know, if she is to help—”

  “Hugh, we will tell her. We wanted to have a pleasant family dinner first,” Thallan said. He used his “royal” tone, as Teagan liked to call it, the tone that meant he was the law and brooked no argument. She knew it annoyed him to no
end when she called it that.

  “What are you guys talking about? What heritage, what true calling? I am already an expert in the Ripper murders. It is one of my specialties, and that’s what I am here to help Grandpa with…isn’t it?” Teagan looked around the table, a perplexed look on her face.

  “Teagan, sweetheart, let us eat our dinner, and then we will go back up to our suite and we will explain everything. We just wanted a chance to have a family dinner…before everything was different,” her mother stated, glaring at her father across the table.

  “Lass, you beat around the bush too much, have your whole life. It is a trait of yours, and I am for just getting to the meat of things I am.”

  “I know you are Dad,” Seraphim said, sighing.

  “You know I was against this from the start. She should have stayed, been raised at the institute,” Hugh continued stubbornly.

  “Enough!” Thallan’s voice was forceful and insistent, his fist hitting the table making the silverware jump. “We made our decision, and that was final. We do not regret it even if you still do not agree with it.”

  “Well boyo, I think I have had enough family time for one evening. Teagan my girl, when you need your questions answered and you do not want someone who will dance around things, get these two to tell you where to find me,” Hugh choked out as he threw his napkin on the table then strode out of the dining room.

  Teagan looked at her parents in shocked silence as the server came and delivered their meals and topped off their wine.

  He appeared to feel the tension as he left without questioning any of them.

  “Let’s eat our dinner, and then it appears we are long overdue for a conversation, Teagan. We want you to remember that everything we kept from you was to protect you, and because we love you and wanted you to have something we never had,” Seraphim said, patting Teagan’s hand gently as she watched her father storm out of the dining room.

  Teagan looked at both her parents and felt curiosity burning through her. She knew the look on their faces; she had seen it before as a child when she wanted something they did not believe was good for her. When they were a united front, she wasn’t getting anything from them.

 

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