Beneath An Ivy Moon (Legacy Of Magick Series, Book 4) (8 page)

I dropped a kiss between his kitty ears. “I had an interesting afternoon,” I said, opening up my dinner. I was happy to find that with a little re-stacking, the club sandwich was fine. I snagged a soda out of the fridge and climbed on a barstool to eat my dinner, discussing the events of the day with Merlin.

Going back over what had happened, I had to wonder...
Why had Nathan said that he’d been trying to contact my family? If Nathan wouldn’t have identified his lineage, I’d have never guessed that he was a practitioner. Or was he? Maybe he was simply a magickal snob.
While I mulled that over, a white tipped paw reached out and batted at a sweet potato fry. “You won’t like it,” I warned the cat.

Merlin ignored me and tried again. “
Aus!
” I told Merlin, and he let go of the waffle fry immediately. I pulled a small piece of turkey from the last of my sandwich and offered it to him instead. “
Fass
,” I told the cat, and he snatched the meat so fast that I started to giggle.

A few years ago, after the big smack-down with the Drakes and the BMG, I had secretly taught Merlin attack dog commands... in German. The fact that Merlin was a cat and that I didn’t speak German as a rule seemed to make no difference to our fifteen pound familiar. He’d taken right to them. Suddenly the cat whipped his head around in the direction of the front door and hissed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, watching him. I reached out with my intuition and felt someone approaching the manor... Someone uninvited. “
Zur wache
!” I gave the command to be on guard, and Merlin took off with a growl towards the front of the manor.

I got up to follow him and barely made the family room before there was a loud, demanding knock on the front door.

I reached out with my magick to try and sense who was out there. I picked up on impatience and frustration, but no ill intent. I walked through to the foyer and eased up to the front door, quietly leaning forward to check the spy hole.

Nathan Pogue stood on my front porch, and wonder of wonders he was still frowning. I didn’t even bother to wonder how he’d known where I lived.
If
he was a practitioner, that sort of locator spell would be child’s play for him... and if he wasn’t— well all he had to do was ask around. I stepped back, debating whether or not to ignore him. Merlin let out a warning meow and leaned against my leg. I glanced down at him. “Should we see what he wants, Merlin?”

Merlin’s bright golden eyes met mine. He blinked and titled his head as if to say,
Your call.

“
Sitz,
” I told Merlin, and he sat obediently next me. To be safe, I took a deep breath and pushed some of my own energy into the household wards to reinforce them. I tapped my fingertips three times on the doorframe. “By all the power of three time three,” I whispered. “Impenetrable my home will be.” As I finished the verse I saw a little bolt of yellow light run along the doorframe.

I thought about how I wanted to play this, and I started to grin. I knew exactly how to handle the gorgeous— pompous— I corrected myself
.
The
pompous
ass. I grounded my energy planted my feet, and opened the door.

He tugged the bandana from his head and twisted it in his hands. “Hi,” he said.

“Well my goodness,” I drawled in my best southern accent. I fluttered up at him, fanning my face with a hand. “It’s a gentleman caller.”

He closed his eyes at my snark and took a breath.

I could tell he was counting. I’d experienced similar frustrated reactions from my own family over the years. After a ten-count, he opened his eyes and focused on me. “Ivy, I need to speak to your brother. Is he home?”

“He’s out of town.” I kept hold of the door, staying on my side of the threshold.

“What about the relative that works at the museum? Her name is Autumn, isn’t it?”

“And you’d know that how?” I demanded, my protective instincts kicking in.
If he thought he could skulk around and spy on my relatives... he was in for a world of hurt.

He held up his hands and took a half step back. “I met her the other day.”

I scowled at him. “Tell you what, why don’t you leave me your number and—”

“This
is
important,” he cut me off.

“I’m sure
you
think it is,” I said.

He drew himself up. “I was simply hoping to have a private, polite conversation with an elder member of your family line.”

“Really?” I shot back. “You should probably go home and practice being polite first. From what I’ve seen that’s going to be a real challenge for you.”

He did a double take.

I stood silently and waited.

“I’m sorry,” Nathan said, rolling his eyes. “I apologize for my behavior—”

“Too late!” I sang.

“—this afternoon,” he said over me. “It’s been a hell of a day.”

“Let’s add ‘learning to sound sincere’ to your to-do list,” I suggested, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why are you really here, Pogue?”

“I told you...” He leaned in aggressively, closer to the door. “I was hoping to speak to a member of your family.” He stared down at me. Our eyes locked and I felt a trickle of his power.

I broke eye contact, and yanked my head back.
The sonofabitch had just tried to spell me!
I had a flash of insight and realized that he was used to getting his way.
By his looks, or his magick.
I glanced down at the cat. “
Achtung
,” I said quietly. Beside me, Merlin let out a feline grumble and rose up to attention.

Nathan’s jaw dropped open at that. “Did you really give your cat a command— that it obeyed?”

“What’s the matter? Too subtle for you?” I said over the increasing volume of Merlin’s growl. I stood up straighter and held my ground.
No way was he getting past the wards.

“This isn’t getting us anywhere...” Nathan scrubbed a hand over his head, and his hair fell artfully around his face. His whole demeanor changed as he braced his forearm against the doorframe. “Why don’t you invite me in?” he practically purred, leaning in closer with a slow smile.

The open space in the door frame— and between us— lit up with a bright yellow flash. He fell back from the door, and I had the supreme satisfaction of watching his jaw drop for the second time that day.

“Manners, Pogue. You really do need to learn some,” I said, stepping further back into the foyer. “I’ll be sure to let my family know that a pompous asshole from an east coast line of Witches dropped by.” I flicked a finger towards the door. Untouched it began to swing, and slammed shut— right in his face.

I focused on the lock and it flipped loudly. I waited until I heard him leave and I rushed to the family room window. I stood off to the side, watching him stalk down the front sidewalk. He let himself out of the narrow opening in our tall, iron gate at the end of the driveway, barely clearing it— when it banged closed behind him.

From the window I could see him flinch in surprise, spinning around to scowl at the gate. Merlin jumped up on the windowsill and made a chirping noise that sounded like a chuckle. We watched as he got into his little black sports car and drove away.

I stepped away from the window. “What an asshole! Why did he have to be so good looking?”

As an answer, Merlin took a swipe at my hand.

“Ouch!” I yanked my hand away and inspected it. “Well at least you didn’t break the skin.” I glared at the cat. “I never said I
liked
him.”

Merlin radiated feline superiority and began to groom his paws.

I couldn’t help it. I started to laugh. The whole scenario struck me as outrageously funny. “What a day.” I went back to the kitchen, still chuckling. I cleaned up my dinner and fed the cat. I snagged an ice cream sandwich out of the freezer and headed upstairs.

Going directly to the hidden panel in my brother’s closet, I tugged down on a brass hook and the door swung open. I selected a volume on the original Witch families from the colonies and went back to my room to study up.

I settled into the curved window seat and stretched out my legs. I flipped open the book and, while I ate the ice cream, started reading about the earliest of the Witch families in America. I had a hunch I’d be seeing the gorgeous, rude, and ill-tempered Nathan Pogue sooner than later.

I wanted to be ready when I did.

***

In hindsight I probably should have found a more discreet way to fill my cousin in on the events of the previous afternoon. I tracked her down at her part-time job at the local history museum and slipped in to her office as quietly as possible. I hadn’t seen Autumn get really angry in a long, long time. But even though she didn’t raise her voice, I had to admit... it was a hell of a show.

“Someone tried to do
what
?” she growled, while above her the fluorescent lights began to flicker.

“I said, some ass-hat named Pogue, from an East Coast line of Witches, tried to charm his way past the wards at the manor yesterday.”

Autumn jumped to her feet. Her desk chair went rolling back and bounced off the wall. “Why didn’t you tell me right away?” she demanded.

I shifted my black, loosely crocheted poncho over the emerald green cami I wore and sighed. “I tried to catch you this morning before you left for work.”

“Damn it Ivy!” You should have called me last night!” she said, and the little task light on her desk blew out with a pop.

“Hey, hey, ratchet that down.” I reached out. “Relax before you blow out all your computer equipment.” I patted her arm. “I told you I was fine. He couldn’t get past the wards.”

Autumn seemed to catch herself. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Start at the beginning. How did you meet him?” she asked.

“I first bumped into him on campus a few weeks ago...” I filled Autumn in about how I’d met him right before the skull had been discovered. Then how he’d helped me with the drunk Frat boys. “He didn’t approve of me. Said I dressed like a wanna-be and had
no
subtlety.”

“Guy sounds like a prince,” Autumn said, scowling. “He never explained exactly why he wanted to speak to Bran?”

“No. Only that he’d been trying to reach him.” Above us the lights stopped their frantic flashing. “He also said that he knew you. That he’d met you.” I tipped my head to one side. “I’m guessing he met you at the museum?”

“Describe him to me.”

“He’s about six feet tall, with straight brown hair—” I gestured to my jawline. “Down to here. He’d be nice looking if he wasn’t such a pompous asshole.”

“Pogue...” Autumn went back to her desk, and began riffling through a file.

“Nathan Pogue,” I said.

She held up a paper. “I
did
meet him. He’s one of the grad students working on the archeological excavation.”

“Well that explained the work clothes he was wearing,” I said.

Autumn shifted over to her computer and began typing. “Got him,” she said a few moments later. “He started with the Master’s program this year. Nathan Pogue, from Danvers, Massachusetts.”

I walked around her desk to join her. “Danvers?” I wondered, reading his file for myself. “Isn’t that close to Salem, Massachusetts?”

Autumn glanced back over her shoulder at me. “Very. It’s less than five miles from modern day Salem.”

“Why do you say,
modern day Salem
?” I asked.

Autumn leaned back in her desk chair. “The Witch Hunt hysteria actually began in what was called ‘Salem Village’... which is known today as— Danvers, Massachusetts.”

“So things are suddenly hinky, we have a new player in town,
and
he comes from the place where the Witchcraft trials originated from?” I shuddered. “That can’t be good.”

“No, it’s not. I want to check something...” Autumn trailed off and began an online search.

Curious, I leaned into my cousin, peering over her shoulder again. I saw that Autumn had pulled up a few documents listing the names of the people imprisoned or executed for Witchcraft during the hysteria. “What are you thinking?” I asked.

Autumn tapped a few keys and began to print the files. “I’m starting to think— like your mother always said—
there’s no such thing as coincidence
.” Autumn nudged me back and grabbed the papers from the printer. She pulled a hot pink sharpie out of her desk drawer and began to mark the pages she’d printed.

Fascinated, I went and sat in one of the little office chairs, pulled my denim clad legs under myself, and watched her go to work. “When you lived in New Hampshire, did you ever make the pilgrimage to Witch City?” I asked, leaning my elbows on her desk.
I’d always wanted to see Salem, the place famous for the Witchcraft trials
.

“Sure. Salem is a pretty harbor town filled with fabulous history,” Autumn said, never even glancing up at me. She opened a yellow sharpie next, and began to highlight different sections of the page.

“Did you see the old graveyard, and the Witch Trials Memorial?”

“Yes, my father took me when I turned thirteen.” Autumn blinked up at me. “He took me out of school for the day. The two of us played hooky... and we never told my mother.” She smiled as she reminisced. “We went to all of the museums, and toured the House of the Seven Gables. Saw Gallows Hill... And wow, I suddenly realized that he must have been trying to sneak in
something
about the legacy of magick, in a roundabout historical way.” She sat back and blew out a breath.

I watched her shake her head at the memory. “I wasn’t trying to make you sad,” I said.

“You didn’t.” She smiled at me. “No worries, Shorty.”

I knew she was a little touchy on the point of her father. He’d hidden her legacy, and even bound her magick. I stuck my tongue in my cheek, hoping to make her laugh. “So, did you ever sneak out with your friends and go back to Salem around Halloween?”

Autumn grimaced. “Only once. It’s frantic, loud and crowded during the month of October. The best time to go is in the summer, when you can see everything without all the crush of crazy tourists dressed in cheap costumes.” She switched out the highlighters for a ball point pen and began to make notes on the back of a page.