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

by Lora Edwards

  Fiona smiled. “That is kind of you miss. If you are agreeable, I will take a plate for myself and the mister and be on my way.”

  “Of course, feel free to do that any time. If there are leftovers after you have packed up your meal, please put them in the fridge. I am not much of a cook and will welcome coming home to such amazing food.”

  Teagan picked up her fork and slipped some of the dish between her lips. She closed her eyes as the tastes of Italy assaulted her tongue, let out an unladylike groan, and swallowed. “This is delicious Fiona, thank you so much!”

  Fiona’s face reddened in pleasure. “Thank you miss. There will be plenty of leftovers since I tend to overcook. Is there anything else that you need?”

  “No, you have been exceptionally kind.” Teagan smiled again at the small woman.

  “Okay then, have a good evening. I will be back tomorrow to clean.”

  Before Teagan could respond, the woman was gone, and she concentrated on the amazing meal in front of her.

  Feeling sated after the wonderful meal, she wandered the new apartment with a glass of wine in her hand, finally settling in one of the chairs in the bedroom. With the fireplace blazing, Teagan found herself dozing off. It had been a bizarre week, but she figured she would just take it one day at a time and open her mind to the possibility that everyone she knew was not crazy.

  As she readied for bed and snuggled down in the beautiful, four-poster bed, she felt a small curl of excitement unfurl in her belly. If this was all real, she would get the chance to go back to the Victorian era and have a standoff with Jack the Ripper. She would become one of the select few that would know the real identity of the Ripper—well, both Rippers.

  Teagan drifted off into peaceful dreams, thoughts of murder and mayhem tucked safely away in another part of her mind.

  Chapter 7

  Teagan stretched her arms and opened her eyes. She frowned at the silk bed hangings above her head, momentarily confused about where she was. Then it all came rushing back: she was at the institute in the apartment she’d been given, and it was her first day of lessons to prepare for a trip back in time.

  Throwing the covers back, her first thought was tea, and then, as if by magic, she swore she could hear the bubbling of the kettle. Grabbing her robe and throwing it over her shoulders, she walked into the kitchen to see Fiona already hard at work, bustling around making breakfast. “Fiona, you didn’t have to do this—I am not much of a breakfast person.”

  “Yes, I did. You are mine to take care of now and if you are going to be worth anything during your first day of training, you need a proper breakfast.” She waved a spatula in Teagan’s direction. “Now go get ready. Take this tea with you, and when you return, the food will be waiting. I was told to tell you to dress comfortably.”

  Teagan smiled at Fiona and took the offered cup, sipping it, pleased to find it exactly to her specifications—two creams, one sugar. She walked back into her room where she quickly showered and dressed, pulling her long hair back into a braid and donning yoga pants, a workout top, a hoodie, and tennis shoes. Then she followed the amazing smells back to the kitchen.

  “Here you are, oatmeal with fresh berries and crispy bacon, and you do not get to tell me you don’t like oatmeal until you try it.”

  Teagan smiled; it was as if Fiona was reading her mind. Teagan dug her spoon into the oatmeal and was pleasantly surprised by how amazing it was. “This is really good,” Teagan said, nodding her head as she went back in for a second bite.

  Fiona chuckled as she went back to cleaning up the breakfast dishes.

  “You really do not have to do that—I can clean up since you cooked.”

  “Nonsense. This is my job, and my pleasure. It is what brownies do. I will come three days a week to cook and clean. I will also make sure your pantry is stocked. Feel free to leave me a list of anything you need and I will get it for you.”

  Teagan nodded. It appeared there was no arguing with the woman. “Thank you again for breakfast, and for dinner last night. It was good to have a home-cooked meal.”

  “You are welcome lass. Now get on with you, Mr. Bran does not like to be kept waiting.”

  Teagan scrunched her nose up at this but waved, grabbing her key and bag, as she headed out the door for her first training session.

  Teagan walked into a vast room with mats on the floor. Directions and times had been included in her employment packet; Mr. Draconus must have been quite sure she was going to take the job.

  “Well, well, are you ready to fight Princess?”

  “Fight? And don’t call me princess—my name is Teagan.”

  “Yes, fight. We are going to go back in time and look for a rogue supernatural, so you’re going to need to know how to defend yourself.”

  “I have trained in tai-chi for years, and I have taken self-defense classes—I think I can handle myself.”

  “True, in a physical fight maybe, but what happens when magic is added?” Bran looked at her with one eyebrow raised. “Allow me to demonstrate.” Bran crouched down into a posture common in martial arts and gestured toward Teagan, signaling for her to attack.

  Removing her hoodie and rolling her shoulders, Teagan mirrored his posture and attacked. He appeared surprised at her skill and Teagan felt a smug smile cross her lips. The expression did not last long; as just as she was going in to pin him to the mat, his eyes started to glow and he blew red-hot fire from his mouth. Teagan ducked, feeling the heat pass over her head as the tongue of fire cut through the air where she had stood a moment before.

  “What the hell was that?” Teagan exclaimed. “Did you just spit fire at me?” She stood back, looking at Bran with shock and not little trepidation.

  “I told you, you need training in fighting supernaturals. After you have had a lesson with Hugh, I will teach you to fight not just with your body but with your magic as well. I am pleased that you have had some training in martial arts—at least your parents did something to prepare you for life at the institute.”

  Teagan just stared at him, angry that he would speak of her parents in such a manner, but since she was still upset about all they’d hid from her, she could not find it in herself to argue with him.

  They spent the next hour sparring, and Teagan learned to watch for the telltale signs that Bran was going to use his dragon powers to try to thwart her.

  Teagan crossed her arms and sneered at him, panting and glaring. “Just wait—when I know how to use magic, I am going to knock you on your ass.”

  “Good luck with that Princess. Now run along, you have a magic lesson to get to.”

  Teagan gaped at Bran. Seriously, what was with the tone and calling her princess? She was most definitely not princess material.

  Not giving him the satisfaction of engaging in the ridiculous trading of insults; Teagan spun on her heel and walked toward the door. She would learn to use her magic and then she would wipe that self-satisfied smirk off his face if it was the last thing she did.

  Teagan marched her way to the library, still fuming about the treatment she had received from Bran. What was his problem anyway? Teagan had seen him with Ovidia, and he did not treat her with the thinly veiled contempt he seemed to reserve for Teagan. With Cleo, he poured on the charm.

  She reminded herself that it did not matter because she would complete this mission with him then go back to Duke and resume her life. She did not care what some stuck-up dragon shifter thought of her.

  Teagan laughed as she opened the door to the library. Who would have thought those thoughts would be spinning through her head? Her definition of normal had definitely been changed and tested the past few days. She chuckled to herself as she stepped into the room.

  “A man cannot ask for more than a lovely girl laughing as she comes to meet him,” Hugh said as he stepped out of the stacks.

  She felt her smile became more genuine as she saw her grandpa.

  “Any girl would laugh and be delighted to spend time with such a h
andsome man,” Teagan said as she walked over to him and gave him a hug. This would never change, the special bond she had with her grandpa, made over trips, books, and long conversations over tea. No matter what strange changes came and went in her life, the affection and love she had for him would always remain a constant.

  Teagan stood and just hugged him, breathing in his scent of Old Spice and pipe tobacco, enjoying the familiar, for a moment, before stepping back. “All right Grandpa, let’s do some magic.”

  “Hold your horses, Girl. We are going to start with some simple things and work up to the bigger things. Your mind should start to remember some things you were taught as a young child—it is like the old adage of riding a bike.”

  Teagan nodded as Hugh stood in front of her, gesturing for her to mimic his posture. She raised her arms.

  “Two skills a witch learns early and two of the last things one loses: stirring the air and making fire.”

  Teagan smiled to herself. Making fire may come in handy, but being able to conjure up some water to put out the fire Bran stirred inside her, may help more. Where did that thought come from? That was not what she meant; it was the fire he threw at her, not one he stirred inside her.

  “Teagan, you need to concentrate. Quit thinking about that young man and focus.”

  Teagan opened one eye and looked at the amused expression on her grandpa’s face.

  “I was not thinking about Bran” Teagan said, standing taller and straightening her arms.

  “No one said anything about Bran, did they?” He winked in her direction before a more serious expression took over. “Now, I want you to close your eyes and imagine what the wind feels like, the breeze lifting your hair and tickling your face, just a soft breeze that stirs the air.”

  Teagan had always had a great imagination, a way of being able to visualize things. She had honed it over the years, a toy she could take anywhere and use to stave off the loneliness of being an only child. All of a sudden, there was a roar of wind around her, she felt it lift her hair, pick at her clothes, she reveled in the feeling of power that flowed through her.

  “Teagan! Teagan! Shut it down! Open your eyes, let go of the visualization!” Hugh shouted over the roar. Teagan opened her eyes and the wind died. Books fell with a thud and paper fluttered to the floor.

  Chuckling, Hugh stood up out of the chair he had been thrown into. “Well girl, you are stronger than I thought, and it is not like riding a bike for you—more like harnessing a speeding train.”

  Teagan turned around, wide-eyed. “I did all of this? I will help you clean it up, I’m sorry Grandpa. I hope nothing was ruined.

  Hugh shook his head. “It is fine Teagan. You are much stronger than I realized, though I should have known better. We will try again. Once you have mastered the witch magic, I will bring in one of the fae to help you with that side of things.”

  He said fae almost like it was a dirty word, with a sneer across his face. Before she could ask any questions, he gestured at her. “Again.”

  The afternoon slid by as Teagan tried different techniques. By the end, she was able to call a gentle breeze and had only singed herself and her grandpa twice. She was exhausted, starving, and sweaty. All she wanted was food, a bath, and a glass of wine, though not necessarily in that order.

  “You did well today my girl. We will give you a few more days of practice and then bring in the other so you can get a handle on those powers as well, though I’m not sure how much of that side you have—you seem to be all witch to me.” Hugh hugged her and smiled smugly.

  “Now go on and get some dinner. Fiona will be waiting with some tasty treat for you, I am sure.”

  Hugh turned around and called for Llewellyn, who came to help him straighten up the library.

  Teagan smiled at him sheepishly. “Sorry for the mess.”

  “It’s all right child. You are learning, no harm done.” He smiled at her in his easy way and with a murmured word, the papers and books began to gently float through the air and back to their original places. Any damage done knitted itself back together during each object’s flight back to its proper location.

  Teagan once again shook her head at what had become commonplace in her life.

  After another lovely dinner from Fiona, this time Irish stew and soda bread, Teagan was beginning to regret her plans to go out with Ovidia. The fire in the bedroom and her new book called to her. Picking up her phone and swiping it open, she saw she had a text, from said friend.

  Ovidia: Don’t even think about flaking out on me. Go get dressed in something to go out in and meet me at my place in 30.

  Teagan: Vid, it’s been a long day. I don’t think I’m in the mood to go out, and I don’t even know where your place is here.

  Ovidia: One drink, please, I want to know how your day was. We will make it an early night so you can go back home and be with your book.

  Teagan: Fine, one drink

  Ovidia: Get dressed. My place is the one next door to yours lol.

  Teagan rolled her eyes; she should have known. She went to find something to wear, thinking, that between her shopping trip with Ovidia and her meager wardrobe, she should be able to cobble something together that would look decent.

  Opening the door to the closet, she gasped. The racks that had hung bare earlier in the day were full. There was an evening wear section that was all silks and glitter, a section of casual clothes including nice slacks, blouses in a variety of styles, fabrics, and colors, and cardigans in cashmere and fine wool, and the last section was what Ovidia liked to call her “librarian” clothes.

  Teagan walked farther in and opened drawers finding socks, fancy bras, and silky panties. Another drawer revealed jeans in every style she could think to wear, shelves of tshirts in a rainbow of colors and just as many styles. Another held leggings that felt like butter when she ran her hands over them, and some thick socks and cable-knit sweaters rounded out her now stocked closet.

  Laughing, Teagan went to the going-out section, pulling out dark skinny jeans and a sparkling black top. Stopping at the shoe section, she grabbed a pair of sky-high red heels as she headed into the shower, still chuckling at the closet.

  Knocking on the identical door next to hers, Teagan tapped her foot, waiting for Vid to answer.

  “Teag it’s open, come in.”

  Walking into the foyer, she encountered a totally different place than the one she had been assigned. This apartment was all Ovidia—chrome, glass, and bold colors. There was none of the softness or old-world elegance that was present in Teagan’s apartment. Here, it was all hard lines and modern art.

  Teagan sat down on a surprisingly comfortable couch made of black leather. She set her bag down on the glass table and prepared to wait for Ovidia to be ready, as usual.

  Looking around, she saw bits of Ovidia everywhere, from the bold red club chairs in front of a marble fireplace to the paintings of female warriors that lined the walls, making her smile. The place really reflected all the different parts of Vid, the fashionista party-girl and the kickass warrior, all wrapped into one beautiful package.

  Ovidia strode out of the master and Teagan got a glimpse of a platform bed, a lake of rumpled black satin covering it.

  Ovidia had chosen stunning red tonight, a dress that flowed over her curves, and the highest of high heels to match. Siren red lipstick completed the outfit and Ovidia presented the perfect picture of a man-eater, one men wouldn’t be able to resist.

  “Well, how do I look,” Ovidia asked, doing a slow twirl in front of Teagan.

  “Like a man-eater,” Teagan replied drily. “Are you about ready?”

  “I see you found the gift we left you. That outfit looks amazing on you,” Ovidia replied, grabbing her bag off the counter as she looked Teagan up and down.

  “Yes. You did not have to do that—what I had was just fine, and I do have boxes coming from Duke, they just haven’t arrived yet,” Teagan said, standing and grabbing her own bag.

  “W
ell you had to be outfitted properly until that time came, and your mother and I had such fun! She did insist on the leggings and librarian clothes, so you have her to thank for that.” Ovidia came over and put her arm around her shoulders. “The La Perla, now that’s from me.” She gave Teagan a wicked smile.

  “No surprise there, Vid. Now if we are done talking about underwear, are you ready to head out?”

  Ovidia just smiled and nodded, heading for the door. “I was only waiting for you,” she said as another brilliant smile crossed her face.

  “As if,” Teagan muttered before following her out the door.

  Teagan appreciated the bar Ovidia chose—it wasn’t a noisy club, thankfully, because Teagan was not in the mood for that. It was an upscale place with low lighting and jazz music, much like the place they spent so much time in at home, and she instantly felt at ease.

  “This is perfect Vid, thank you so much for not dragging me to one of your loud, obnoxious clubs,” Teagan said as she slipped into a booth.

  “I knew if I tried to take you somewhere like that, it would be impossible to drag you out of your place. There is time for partying, but tonight I figured we would do low key.”

  The waiter came and they ordered drinks. Settling back into the leather cushion of the booth, Teagan sighed.

  “So, Chicky, how are you doing with all of this,” Ovidia asked, raising one eyebrow.

  “I am not sure. It is a lot to take in—not just the magic, the fae, or the witches, and not even just my parents lying to me about my true self. Time travel is what I find myself thinking about the most,” Teagan replied, fiddling with her cocktail napkin as they talked.

  The waiter arrived with their drinks and Ovidia sent him a sultry smile that had him blushing as he walked away.

  Teagan rolled her eyes; flirting was like breathing for Vid.

  Taking a sip of her drink, Ovidia looked at Teagan. “Wasn’t that waiter just scrumptious? Anyhow, I am not surprised that you are having the most problem with the time travel, but aren’t you the least bit excited? You are always droning on about Jack this and Jack that, and now you will get the chance to see him in person. It will almost be like meeting a celebrity.”