The Trinity Sisters

by Kristin Coley

  I sighed as I heard another bang from inside. Dane was trying to find the bag for the casserole and was too stubborn to ask.

  Cabinet next to the sink, second shelf. I sent the thought to him and a moment later a sheepish thank you came back.

  We were packing to spend the Christmas with my sisters and the rest of our collective Scooby Gang. It’d been six months since we’d taken down Mitchell and I’d found out I had sisters and this would be our first holiday together. They’d begged me to stay with them, but I’d insisted on coming back to the farm. Gloria agreed that Dane and I along with Tori were better off with her on the farm than trying to return to our homes. I’d sold the house I grew up in and buried my parents. Dane and Tori had done the same, but they’d scattered their mother’s ashes over their father’s grave.

  Vincent had decided to stay with Garvin to no one’s surprise. I actually missed him and was looking forward to seeing him again. Luke and Sinclair continued to live in the carriage house on Garvin’s property, but I had the feeling they would need to expand soon based on a text Kincaid had sent me. She and Milo spent most of their time on the road. It seemed wanderlust had been engrained in them and they traveled all over the world hunting down witches and warlocks that dabbled in the dark arts. It was rare they needed assistance since both were strong fighters. They gave the dark users the option to go straight and if they refused they were brought before the three of us. We’d only had to deal with that once and in the end we’d stripped her of all magic, leaving little more than a husk behind. She served as a warning as did Mitchell’s coven. Dark magic was not allowed.

  Edgar cawed as he landed on my shoulder, a shiny coin clutched in his beak. I held out my hand and he dropped it, and the gold guinea glittered in my palm. I laughed at my sisters’ impatience. I had no doubt they were both pacing around waiting on my arrival. Or rather the arrival of their niece. They’d agreed to let me name her after our mother as well as Dane’s since we all knew Sinclair would have a son eventually. I crossed my fingers, hopefully Kincaid had been correct about her vision of Sinclair. It would be fun if our children could grow up together.

  I patted my stomach already imagining the chaos that would come with her birth. She would be the first born of a trinity and we had no idea what to expect. Would she be gifted with the same powers as her mother and aunts or would she be more like her father? We didn’t know, but I suspected she’d have my power. The prophecy had indicated a thousand years of light and I had no desire to live that long which meant our children would be the ones to continue the legacy.

  Tori came racing down the drive then, a cloud of dust behind her car. After she parked, she bounded over to me, taking the steps two at a time, and reminding me forcefully of the Tori I’d know before her mother’s death. She’d taken a long time to heal and was closer than ever with Gloria. Dane and I had one another and the distraction of a pregnancy, but Tori had struggled with the sacrifice her mother and Peter had made to save her. It was a rare gift to witness a carefree Tori, one who acted like her seventeen year old self.

  “Great, I was afraid you were going to leave without me.” She exclaimed, dropping down beside me and setting the swing to rocking.

  “No worries. They’re still packing stuff up inside. They refuse to let me help.” I snorted, making air quotes as I said, “It’s enough that you’re teleporting all of us to Garvin’s house. You need to take it easy.” Tori laughed at my impression of Dane and patted my stomach.

  “Is everyone going to be there?” She asked me nervously.

  “That’s what I heard. Even Garvin’s mom and Luke’s mom will be there along with their sisters. It should be interesting.” I chuckled at the memory of Vincent describing Garvin’s mother. There was no denying he’d come by his theatrics honestly. “And supposedly Garvin has all of our outfits for Christmas dinner. Sinclair said we have to be ‘dressed’ to sit down at dinner with Garvin’s mom who we’re supposed to call Momma Garvin.”

  “Are you serious?” Tori gasped, shaking her head. “Wow. I can’t wait to watch this train wreck. I wonder what Momma Garvin thinks of Vincent?” I shrugged, having wondered that myself. “Did you hear Patrick is dating Luke’s mom?”

  “What? No, how did you hear that?” It was my turn to gasp as I struggled to turn and face her. I wasn’t used to the bowling ball stomach and sudden moves were getting harder.

  “Portia told me, she heard it from Milo.” Tori replied with a Cheshire grin. “She’s still dating Scott too which Kincaid finds hard to believe.”

  I grunted in agreement, since having full access to Kincaid’s past memories meant I knew exactly how badly her and Scott’s relationship had been. It was nothing compared to what she had with Milo, and it was difficult to believe Scott could be that for Portia. Stranger things had happened though.

  “I’m guessing if Milo hasn’t killed him yet he must not be doing too badly.” I finally replied. “I heard he was going to invite some friends of theirs. A couple of guys he meet when they were kids traveling with their dad. He’s kept in touch with them, said these guys saved him and Portia a long time ago.”

  “Cool, I bet they have some stories.” Tori gushed, excited to hear about Milo’s past. There was no doubt she had a bit of a crush on him, but I thought it stemmed from a fascination with how they were raised more than anything. She enjoyed hanging out with Portia, asking me to teleport her more than once so she could see her. I didn’t mind being a shuttle on occasion, but was grateful we’d figured out that Kincaid and Sinclair could borrow my gift when they needed it. Supposedly, we could all borrow each other’s gifts but I found it difficult to cast illusions with the same precision as Sinclair. Luckily, Kincaid’s gift wasn’t one you could borrow on demand and she only used mine when necessary.

  Silence from inside had me struggling to get up. Tori hopped up and offered her arm which I accepted gratefully. It was hard for me to believe sometimes that she was only a year younger than me and almost done with high school. My life had changed in so many ways I had a hard time remembering the girl I’d been the night my parents’ died. Tori had been forced to grow up as well, but thankfully she still had the chance to be a teenager on occasion.

  The door banged open interrupting my thoughts as Dane came out loaded down with stuff.

  “I think we have everything.” He muttered with two duffel bags thrown over each shoulder and food dishes piled in his arms. Gloria was right behind him with even more food.

  “I think Garvin was catering dinner.” I mentioned, pointing to the food.

  “Christmas dinner, but, dear, I’ve seen you eat lately. These are to tide you over till then.” Gloria smiled as Dane choked back a laugh and Tori bit her lip. So my already enormous appetite had seemed to quadruple with pregnancy, but that didn’t mean we had to bring mass provisions so I didn’t eat Garvin out of house and home!

  “Fine,” I muttered, ignoring the rumble of my stomach as I smelled her famous macaroni and cheese. “Are we ready then? They’ve already started pestering me about when we’re going to show up.” I held up the guinea Edgar had so kindly delivered to their amusement.

  “We’re ready.” Dane nodded and I pictured the front porch of Garvin’s Tara, and with a tingling rush we were gone.

  Keep reading for a peek at The Pack, a YA paranormal romance.

  Chapter One

  The smell of exhaust fumes hit me as I stepped off the Greyhound bus and into my new life. The driver didn’t even bother getting off since my luggage consisted of the duffel bag slung over my shoulder. I hadn’t taken two steps before he was bumping back over the shoulder and onto the road.

  Guess Banks, Idaho wasn’t a hotspot for travelers.

  I considered my options, which were exactly nil, and let out a sigh. I was literally standing on the side of the highway with no phone - thanks again, Mommy Dearest – and no real idea of what to do next.

  A covered bulletin board caught my eye and I wandered over to it, hitching
my bag higher on my shoulders. Considering it holds all of my worldly possessions, it should be heavier, I thought idly as I perused the board. It had the bus schedule and - thank you, God – a map of this tiny town. It wasn’t much but it gave me a direction to start walking once I figured out which way was south. According to the tiny map, there was a town called High Valley to the north, but nothing between here and there. I was looking for the only motel around which based on my own sketchy brand of logic should be in the center of the town.

  I headed south, fingers crossed I was actually going south, and thanked whoever was listening once again that I’d had the foresight to wear tennis shoes when I told my mom I was going to live with Dad. I’d packed my stuff in anticipation of what would no doubt be an epic showdown. What I hadn’t expected was the sheer vindictiveness she’d displayed. When she realized she couldn’t stop me, she’d refused to let me take anything, including my phone or debit card. I’d been allowed one duffel bag of clothes so I’d been choosy since I had no idea what to expect. As I hiked along the shoulder of the highway, it was clear I was no longer in the city. Massive trees surrounded me, the highway nothing more than a ribbon cutting through deep forest, and I shivered slightly. When I’d decided to move in with Dad, I hadn’t really considered the consequences of my decision.

  My phone confiscated by a petty parent while I tried to figure out how to survive my senior year in the backwoods of Idaho. Part of me wanted to turn back, wait for the next bus and go back home, but after Mom’s last words, I knew that would never happen. I had to make this work.

  After fifteen minutes of walking, my duffle bag was getting heavy and I needed to find a bathroom. I was also cursing my inability to call Dad to come get me, and somewhat shocked that not a single car had gone by the entire time I walked. I was starting to think there was no town and the bus driver had just decided to drop me in the middle of nowhere.

  A couple more minutes of trudging and it looked like there was a break in the never-ending wall of forest. My steps got a little faster and then I saw the sign.

  Wander Inn Motel

  I snorted at the pun, but was also relieved to find it actually existed. I’d begun to wonder if Dad had just dropped off the face of the planet, but no, he’d just found the furthest place from Mom and his old boss as humanly possible.

  I turned on to the gravel drive, and then stopped and stared. When Dad had told me about the place, he’d described it as old school, retro even. Staring at it now, I could definitely state that old school was a generous term for what amounted to a pay per hour dump. It was one of those old types where you drove up and parked right at the door of your room. Two levels with a staircase, no elevators here, and while it could have been nice, now it just looked like a hangout for drug dealers and pimps. I scanned the doors to see if any of them were open waiting for a John to stroll by.

  I steeled myself and headed for room 119, the room Dad said he’d rented for the duration. Duration of what, I still had no idea. Midlife crisis? Licking his wounds? Finding himself? Really, no clue here. I just couldn’t abandon him to do it alone. Mom was the master of that.

  I knocked a little harder than I intended, not realizing the door was some hollow core piece of crap. It wasn’t long before Dad threw it open, and I wanted to ask if he’d even bothered to check and make sure I wasn’t some drug dealing thug.

  “Bunny!” I winced at the familiar nickname, the one I still hadn’t broken him from using as he engulfed me in one of his bear hugs. Even as quick as he’d been to embrace me, I’d still witnessed his surprise at seeing me. I’d told him I was coming, but I guess he’d thought Mom would convince me otherwise. He knew how she was, as well as I did.

  “When did you get here? How did you get here?” His forehead wrinkled in bewilderment – a familiar expression – and I smiled. “You should have called, I would have come to get you from…. wherever.”

  “She ‘confiscated’ my phone,” I answered, using air quotes with a roll of my eyes. “I took a Greyhound, apparently the stop is a couple miles north of here, so I walked the rest of the way,” I explained as I checked out the accommodations, relieved to see it was at least clean, if extremely old. The color scheme fell somewhere between rust orange, avocado green and a shade of yellow I was unfamiliar with. There were two beds and, surprisingly, a tiny kitchenette. It was roomier than most standard hotel rooms nowadays and not too terrible if you ignored the shag carpeting.

  “Well, kid, welcome home,” Dad said enthusiastically as he watched me take everything in. I knew him well enough to see the uncertainty he was trying to disguise and gave him a small smile.

  “Which bed is mine?” I finally asked and he let out a relieved laugh.

  “Whichever you prefer, Bunny.”

  “You’ve got to stop calling me that, Dad.” I shook my head, glancing away to hide my smile at his use of my nickname. As much as I despised it, I also couldn’t imagine him not using it.

  “I will,” he promised for the umpteenth time.

  “Yeah, when I’m eighty?” I said in my standard reply.

  “Eighty, eighteen, somewhere in there,” he answered, our routine familiar by now.

  “You have a month. I don’t think you can do it,” I dared him, mentioning my upcoming eighteenth birthday.

  “So little faith in your old man,” he answered, acting wounded as I threw my bag on the first bed and then proceeded to bounce on it.

  “Ompf,” I grunted as the bed gave a loud squeak and I felt a spring poke me in the back. “Comfy.”

  He looked abashed as he went to the other bed and sat down. “It’s temporary. They don’t have a lot of available housing and the local community college just started their semester and all of the apartments got snapped up,” he rambled, eyeing me sheepishly.

  I nodded, not wanting him to feel any worse, but I did wonder how long I could share a hotel room with my Dad. I loved him, but there was no escaping the ick factor.

  “I’ll figure something out,” he promised, and I nodded as he ducked his head. “I’m glad you’re here, kid.”

  “Me too, Dad. Me too.”

  Chapter Two

  Two days later, Dad deposited me in front of my new high school and drove off with a honk. I got a few sideway glances and some out right stares, but ignored them as I climbed the steps of what I’d mistakenly assumed was an old courthouse before spotting the sign proclaiming it to be Banks High School. The brick building was beautiful, if intimidating, and like everything else I’d seen so far, old. As I stepped inside, I was relieved to see the requisite linoleum floors and double stacked lockers lining the halls as I followed a sign to the office.

  Half an hour later, I had enrolled and been directed to my first class of the day. It didn’t take me long to find since the halls were numbered and apparently all of my classes were in hall 400 since I was senior.

  I squinted at the doors trying to find Room 412. A couple of the florescent lights were out, leaving the hallway dim. I wasn’t paying attention so when he spoke I jumped, letting out an embarrassingly girly shriek.

  “What are you doing here?” The tone was accusing, instantly pissing me off.

  “You scared the shit out of me,” I snapped back, aggravated. It took my heart a second to slow from the sudden rush as my eyes found the person who’d spoken.

  I studied the guy in front of me and mentally corrected myself. The man in front of me wasn’t smiling as he crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes the only thing standing out in the dimly lit hallway. They were a light yellow, almost luminescent, and I took an instinctive step back when they met mine, the primitive part of me recognizing danger.

  “Class,” I stammered, my heart suddenly racing again. “I’m trying to find my class.” I waved the schedule in my hand as evidence, but it didn’t erase the grim expression on his face. “412 is my homeroom.”

  “You don’t go to this school,” he stated and I shook my head before I realized what I was doing.
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  “I do,” I disagreed before adding, “Go to this school.” He didn’t look convinced and I felt annoyance start to creep back in. This guy had me flustered and I didn’t like it. “I’m a new student. Hence the looking for my classroom.” Again, I held up my handwritten class schedule since the hundred-year-old printer in the office refused to print and the school secretary had decided it was faster to write it than get someone to fix it. “Jess Carter.”

  Some of the tension seemed to leave him when I said my name and I frowned. The entire situation was odd and as the guy stepped closer, I felt myself step back once again.

  He was huge.

  It wasn’t enough he had to be brushing 6’7 or 6’8, but he wasn’t one of those tall, lanky guys. Noooo, he was broad shouldered and there was a definite possibility his bicep was bigger than my head. My mind immediately jumped to steroid use and the likelihood of him going after me in a roid rage when he lifted his arm, but he only flicked his wrist toward the door on the right.

  “412,” he muttered before turning and disappearing down the hall. I let out a shaky sigh, not moving until he was out of sight. I wasn’t sure if it was his enormous size or his instant dislike that had me on edge, but I could only hope we didn’t run into each other again anytime soon.

  The Pack

  Hidden Truths

  High school senior, Addie, never expected her unique 'gift' to lead her to a missing student, but when it does she's thrown into the middle of a dangerous drug war. Now, she's forced to work with a gorgeous (and completely off limits) detective to discover the truth before it kills them both.

  Their reluctant alliance will reveal more than either could have anticipated as Addie's ability leads them to a dangerous showdown and a shocking betrayal.

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