by Helen Scott
Reluctantly, he pulled his phone out and dialed Aiden.
The rough greeting he received in the man’s lilting Irish accent made it seem as though his voice was at war with itself. Alec quickly introduced himself and let Aiden know how he’d come about his number.
“How are Hal and Robin doing?”
“They’re well. They said you might be able to help me with a problem.”
“Is that so? Well, ye best tell me what it is, then, hadn’t ye?”
Alec gave yet another rundown of the situation, and Aiden’s breath sucked in when he realized that the Morrigan was in fact real and sleeping on Alec’s couch at that moment.
“Shite, that’s the last thing I expected ye to say.”
“So, I’m wondering if you can spare someone from your pack to help me look for them?”
“I wish I could, but I can’t. We’ve got some internal pack issues and I need every man, woman, and child where I can see them and keep an eye on what they’re up to.” He blew out a breath. “What I can do is have a friend of mine call ye. She’s somewhere in the US. Not sure where, mind ye, but she’ll be better able to help than I am.”
“Thank you. It means a lot.”
As they wrapped up the call, Aiden promised to have this woman call Alec as soon as possible. In the meantime, Alec needed to get Ben on his side. He didn’t know enough about him to truly trust him, but the least he could do was give the kid a chance. After all, they were family. Sort of.
It was no surprise to him that Ben was on board. For some reason, it always seemed like he wanted to be more involved with this family instead of his fury one. Alec knew there had to be a story there, but it wasn’t his place to push. After everything had been arranged between them, he had nothing to do but wait for the phone call from a stranger.
He sighed and got up to stretch, looking out of his kitchen window, or at least, what remained of it, to the churning clouds on the horizon. Snow was coming and would be here sooner than he was ready for, with the gaping hole that was his back door. As usual, his mind drifted to Ellie, but it wasn’t the usual romantic thoughts he had about her. The look on her face as she’d tried to get out of the wedding dress appointment had been haunting him all day.
They loved each other, that much he was sure of, or at least, he was sure he loved her. The fact that she’d desperately tried to avoid going shopping for her dress got under his skin, though. It was almost like she’d changed her mind. Maybe she didn’t want to marry him anymore. Maybe that was why she hadn’t wanted to plan a single ounce of the wedding, and maybe, just maybe, that was why she’d been giving him the cold shoulder for the last few months.
His brain reminded him of the sex they’d had the day before and tried to reason that her shoulder couldn’t have been all that cold for the sparks that flew between them. The problem was, the sparks seemed to be fizzling out on her side. He wanted to scream that they were soulmates, and that fizzling was not allowed, but he kept the impulse under control.
Somewhere in his mind, he knew he had to talk to her about it, but he didn’t want to, since that might bring the happiness he’d found with his soulmate crashing down around him, but then again, if she wasn’t happy, what was the point? The thoughts swirled in his head like the storm clouds he’d seen outside.
The seed of self-doubt that had been planted when she first started avoiding the wedding conversations had blossomed and towered over him like a redwood, not that he’d ever admit it, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he was the problem. After she had come back from Tír na nÓg, everything was perfect for about a year, and then everything with Cin, Robin, and Aster happened. Suddenly, almost two years had passed since he’d proposed, and she didn’t even want to go wedding dress shopping.
Maybe it was the immortality thing, part of his brain piped up. After all, humans were used to pledging themselves to one another for, what, fifty to eighty years at the most? The immortality thing had changed the dynamic between them, he knew that, but maybe it hadn’t changed it for the better like he’d thought. Maybe it had left Ellie feeling trapped.
His phone rang, a shrill beeping that snapped him out of his melancholy thoughts. It was a number he didn’t recognize, which meant that it had to be Aiden’s friend, since everyone else who had his number was in his contacts.
“This is Alec,” he said.
“Hi, Alec. Aiden asked me to call you. Something about a tracking job?”
The woman’s voice was sweet and she sounded young, but with shifters, he could never tell, at least until they got much older. He briefly described the circumstances once more and realized that he was getting tired of telling the story over and over again and hearing the same reactions from people. The woman, who hadn’t bothered to introduce herself, exclaimed about the existence of the Morrigan and fae in general before she got ahold of herself, schooling her voice into a cool professionalism that didn’t grate on his nerves nearly as much.
By the gods, he was turning into a grumpy old man. He shook his head. He’d never been so negative before, and the only thing he could attribute his current state to was the uncertainty between him and Ellie.
He wrenched his mind back to the woman and caught the tail end of what she’d been saying.
“So, if you want to come out here, I can introduce you to our best tracker, but she won’t go without meeting you first.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “She’s a little skittish.”
“That’s fine. Just text me where and when and I’ll be there with my associate.”
Less than a minute after they’d hung up, his phone buzzed with the text message.
Alec jumped to the rear parking lot of the tattoo shop and walked down the two blocks to the bar where Ben was waiting for him. From what he remembered, this was the same place Cin used to work, and ironically how she and Ben first knew each other before she knew they were related. It was hard being a supernatural individual when family didn’t know or care to accept them. It meant hiding and always looking for approval, something Alec was well versed in. His mind seemed determined to drag him into a negative head space, but he would fight against it. Hopefully, Ben didn’t screw up too much and make that impossible.
Chapter 5
Cin had disappeared before Ellie had even opened her eyes after arriving at the shop, which she appreciated. She truly wanted to be alone with some of her family’s things. While she didn’t grieve for the loss of her parents, and hadn’t in a long time, the loss of Granddad was still too fresh, as was the loss of Gran, even though that was a few years older.
Her family had always been so small, and it just seemed to get smaller as time passed. It wasn’t until she’d gone to the Isle of Skye to scatter their ashes that she’d even begun to accept their deaths, and then with everything that had happened directly afterward, it had still taken time. She could imagine what the island looked like in winter, the cold ocean air whipping around while a dusting of snow covered the brown grass.
It would be quiet since most of the attractions that drew tourists would be closed, but that would only make it more magical to her. She could go to the same lighthouse where she’d said goodbye to them and look up at the stars. The cold, clear air would make them shine a bit brighter, and she might be able to see the Milky Way since there was barely any light pollution.
The problem was, she wanted to do all that with her grandparents. Nothing about grief was easy. People always said it got better with time, but that wasn’t the truth. The truth was that the passage of time allowed a person to make room for the grief so they could learn to live with it, and then occasionally, like with Kelly, the wound was poked at and bled all over again.
The shop still smelled the way it would have if it had never moved locations. She wasn’t sure how she’d managed it; maybe it was just having all of Granddad’s things together, but she loved it. Suddenly, she felt less alone, like she could turn around and he’d be standing behind her, straightening the shelves and pushing hi
s glasses up on his nose or shaking his hair back into place.
Ellie ran her hands along the wood as she passed down an aisle to the back of the store. Behind the same curtain that had hung in the original Speak o’ the Devil were two rooms and a bathroom. The one room was used as storage, while the other held a lot of Granddad’s personal effects. She’d taken some home and Alec had made room for them, but there was too much for her to keep it all there.
As she settled on the couch they’d kept from the old apartment, she pulled out a few of the journals that Granddad had kept throughout his life. In that moment, she relished being alone with her thoughts and memories. If tears came, she would let them. If laughter bubbled up, then that was welcome, too. There was no one there, so she didn’t have to lessen her reaction to things, or try to keep everything in so she didn’t upset them. It helped that she wasn’t worried about anyone disturbing her. Besides Cin, and probably Aster and Robin, no one knew where she was. Plus, they worked by appointment only, so she would know if a customer needed something long before she arrived.
A photo sitting on the small desk in the room caught her eye. It was of the three of them—Ellie, Gran, and Granddad. They’d gone to a restaurant to celebrate her birthday, and for dessert, they’d ordered a slice of chocolate cake to share, not expecting the gargantuan piece that arrived. Gran had collapsed into a fit of giggles that had Granddad and Ellie laughing in turn. When the waiter had turned up to check on them, she’d asked him to take a picture.
It perfectly captured the moment, with the piece of cake front and center on the table and the three of them almost in tears around it. Joy sparkled in their eyes, and while they had all experienced some trials and tribulations, it was nothing compared to what was to come in the few years after that photo was taken.
Ellie sighed, tearing her eyes away from the photo that made the grief feel that much fresher. There was nothing that could ease the pain, except learning to accept it. The journals made her feel closer to her grandfather again, as though, just for a moment, he was telling her his stories once more. He’d kept them throughout his life, each one detailing what he’d learned about anything and everything magical, from shifters to gods to the properties of different herbs, and it was all written in his precise, squat handwriting. None of it was typed. Nothing had been printed out. He’d put his heart and soul into preserving everything he could just so Ellie could read them later.
He’d never told Ellie about her abilities because her parents hadn’t wanted her to be raised thinking magic was real since neither of them believed in it. Granddad knew it was, and after her parents died in a car accident, he knew that at some point, all the magic in the family would fall on her shoulders, so while he raised her in the way her parents had wanted, he’d been preparing to impart all this information to her.
She could only imagine what her reaction would have been if he’d tried to tell her magic was real or that supernatural beings existed. Ellie sighed, knowing she would have laughed and then proceeded to try to figure out if Granddad had started to lose his mind in his old age. Over the last couple years, she’d been slowly and methodically going through his journals so she didn’t miss anything. Of course, that was only after she’d taken a cursory glance at all of them before picking out the ones she’d found most interesting to look at in more detail.
There was one she hadn’t looked at yet because when she’d first opened it, Granddad had made a note that it was all the ways he’d tried to help Gran with magic. Ellie wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready to look at that, but she knew she would have to bite the bullet eventually. Plus, she knew her curiosity would get the better of her.
Her fingers ran over the text on a page that talked about gods and goddesses Granddad had encountered. Most of them were minor, but it floored her nonetheless. The journal was too much a reminder of her life at that moment, though, so she closed it and opened the next one. As soon as she looked at it, she knew she’d fall asleep if she started going through it, since it was just a list of herbs and their uses, from what she could tell. She flipped ahead. All she saw was runes and how to interpret them, and information on tarot cards. Sometimes the way Granddad had put the different chunks of information together amused her, and sometimes it just left her scratching her head.
She pushed it aside and picked up the last one. Her heart clenched. It was the journal she’d been avoiding. Of course it was. Why, out of all the times she’d gone to the back of the store to read through the notes, was this the time that she picked up that journal to go through? Her fingers ran over the textured leather cover. The brass corner protectors were dulled with age but still shone faintly in the light. The cover creaked as she opened it, just like it had the first time, as though it was protesting and telling her to back away.
Heeding warnings was not her strong suit, though, so she began to look at the first page once more.
Eilidh,
If you’re reading this, then I can only assume that I have passed on. I’m sorry for leaving you and not telling you about your inheritance, but I’m sure I’ve explained that somewhere else already. Since you’ve found this journal, I feel as though it’s only right for me to warn you about what it contains. This is my log of everything I tried to do to save my Colleen. Do not try any of this. I only tried it because I spent my life learning magic and refining my skills. These notes were mainly just for me to keep track of what I had tried and what I was planning on trying. I am leaving everything in here not only as a memory for myself but as a list of what not to do.
There is nothing in here that would be useful to you except as a learning tool, but (and I’m sorry for repeating myself like an old fuddy duddy) do not try these. In fact, you should probably just throw this away. I wish I could, but it reminds me too much of Colleen, and I can’t bear to part with anything that was close to her. At least, not yet.
When you find your soulmate, you will come to understand some of the pain I feel at the loss of my wife. She was my partner in life, in everything, really. I pray that you do not come to understand it fully, though, as this is not something I would wish for my precious girl.
Remember—look but don’t touch when it comes to this magic.
All my love,
Granddad
Xoxoxo
Ellie traced the indented writing before turning the page. The photo of Gran taped to the page hit her right in the gut, all the guilt and grief she had felt over the years rising to the surface, bringing tears to her eyes once more. As she flipped through the first few pages, she pushed the feelings back down into the hole they lived in inside her heart. Her eyes started to notice a pattern, one she didn’t understand but recognized. The corner of each page was decorated with the same swirling scroll around a triangle that was almost completely nested inside a circle. She had no idea what it meant.
From the looks of it, Granddad had started off with different herb mixtures and tonics, each entry getting more obscure and exotic with its ingredients. Eventually, the notes started to devolve into different spells and types of magic as he clearly became more desperate. It was hard for her to read, and even harder to think about him going through all this alone, because she knew that her gran, Colleen, wouldn’t have wanted him messing with this stuff to save her life.
She started getting worried when the spells progressed from healing to binding, and to much worse things. He’d tried binding her soul to an object, to the earth, even to himself, all with no success. When that didn’t work, he’d tried to meld their life forces together or just give her some of his own, like a blood transfusion. Again, he was met with nothing but failure. He’d tried to ward the apartment from death, and he’d even tried to siphon energy from animals and humans surrounding them to give her strength to fight her cancer, but, thankfully for the beings who lived around them, none of it worked. Ellie knew that if Granddad had killed someone by taking their life force to save Colleen, he never would have forgiven himself.
The next few p
ages were just ramblings of rage and grief after his wife passed away. It tore at her heart to get a glimpse into the pain that he’d kept so well hidden from her. Even his handwriting changed. On the pages Ellie seemed stuck on, it was jagged and messy, his thoughts scrawled over the page in a way that almost depicted the pain he described. Tears fell from her eyes, and as she went to turn the page, it caught on her hand, slicing into the pad of her middle finger. She hissed in pain at the sting of the papercut, but when she looked, she didn’t see any blood.
Turning the page was almost a scary thought. Ellie didn’t know what she’d find in the remainder of the journal, and part of her prayed that it was blank, but another part of her prayed for answers, for a solution to the pain and confusion she felt. She got neither of those things.
Chapter 6
Alec had found Ben perched on a stool, chatting with the bartender while sipping a tall glass of beer. The bar itself was filling with people seemingly before his eyes. They were the post-dinner rush—at least, that was his guess—but he didn’t know enough about the area to be sure. For all he knew, they were all just regulars stopping in for a drink before heading home.
“Ready to go?” The words ground out of his mouth as irritation flashed through him at Ben’s ease of being distracted.
“Um, yeah, just give me two seconds.”
As he watched, the younger man downed the majority of the beer in two big gulps and threw a twenty-dollar bill on the counter.