Daughter of the Spellcaster
Read Daughter of the Spellcaster Online
Authors: Maggie Shayne
Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fiction
Anything for their child…
Lena Dunkirk is a practicing witch, Ryan McNally a wealthy playboy. Logic says mismatch, yet from the first they share a passion that defies reason, as if they know each other from another place, another time. Then Lena gets pregnant and runs for the safety of home.
Months later, when Ryan appears at her door looking to help raise their child, Lena doesn’t know whom to trust—particularly now that “guru to the stars” Bahru has taken an interest in her baby, offering gifts forged of magic.
Soon she and Ryan are sharing eerie dreams of ancient lands, while a vengeful demon plots to take possession of their child. As the moment of birth approaches, the demon’s power rises, forcing the hand of love to wield the blade that will decide the fate of a child’s soul—and the future of the world.
Praise for the novels of Maggie Shayne
“Shayne crafts a convincing world, tweaking vampire legends just enough to draw fresh blood.”
—
Publishers Weekly
on
Demon’s Kiss
“This story will have readers on the edge of their seats and begging for more.”
—
RT Book Reviews
on
Twilight Fulfilled
“A tasty, tension-packed read.”
—
Publishers Weekly
on
Thicker than Water
“Tense…frightening…a page-turner in the best sense.”
—
RT Book Reviews
on
Colder than Ice
“Mystery and danger abound in
Darker than Midnight,
a fast-paced, chilling thrill read that will keep readers turning the pages long after bedtime….Suspense, mystery, danger and passion—no one does them better than Maggie Shayne.”
—
Romance Reviews Today
on
Darker than Midnight
[winner of a Perfect 10 award]
“Maggie Shayne is better than chocolate. She satisfies every wicked craving.”
—
New York Times
bestselling author Suzanne Forster
“Shayne’s haunting tale is intricately woven….A moving mix of high suspense and romance, this haunting Halloween thriller will propel readers to bolt their doors at night.”
—
Publishers Weekly
on
The Gingerbread Man
“[A] gripping story of small-town secrets. The suspense will keep you guessing. The characters will steal your heart.”
—
New York Times
bestselling author Lisa Gardner on
The Gingerbread Man
Kiss of the Shadow Man
is a “crackerjack novel of romantic suspense.”
—
RT Book Reviews
Also by Maggie Shayne
The Portal
MARK OF THE WITCH
Secrets of Shadow Falls
KISS ME, KILL ME
KILL ME AGAIN
KILLING ME SOFTLY
BLOODLINE
ANGEL’S PAIN
LOVER’S BITE
DEMON’S KISS
Wings in the Night
BLUE TWILIGHT
BEFORE BLUE TWILIGHT
EDGE OF TWILIGHT
RUN FROM TWILIGHT
EMBRACE THE TWILIGHT
TWILIGHT HUNGER
TWILIGHT VOWS
BORN IN TWILIGHT
BEYOND TWILIGHT
TWILIGHT ILLUSIONS
TWILIGHT MEMORIES
TWILIGHT PHANTASIES
DARKER THAN MIDNIGHT
COLDER THAN ICE
THICKER THAN WATER
Look for Maggie Shayne’s next novel
BLOOD OF THE SORCERESS
available February 2013
For Michele, Gayle, Chris, Laurie,
Ginny and Theresa.
Whoever said that
writing is a solitary profession never attended one of
our loud,
laughter-filled, munchy-fest plotting sessions!
What fun
would this stuff be if we had to do it alone?
Love you all!
Prologue
I
n her tiny hand she held the vial of mugwort over her steaming cauldron and carefully let three drops escape. No more, no less. Then she looked up at her mom and smiled.
Mamma nodded her approval but didn’t let little Magdalena bask in it for very long. “Now the eyebright. Just a pinch.”
Lena set the vial aside and picked up the old brown crockery jar with the dried herb inside. She plucked out a pinch and dropped it into the squat iron pot.
A little more
, said Lilia.
You have tiny fingers, after all.
She didn’t say it out loud, of course. She spoke from inside Lena’s head. Though her mom called Lilia an imaginary friend, to Lena she was a big sister and very real, even though no one—except Lena herself—could see her. No one else ever had. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t real.
Lena grabbed another pinch and popped it into the bubbling brew, eliciting a satisfying hiss from the pot.
Mamma frowned at her. “How did you know to add a little more?”
“Lilia told me to,” Lena explained.
“Ahh. All right, then.”
Mamma didn’t mean it, though. She didn’t believe in Lilia. Magic, yes. Witchcraft, most certainly. But not Lilia. Grown-ups could be so odd sometimes.
Aside from that, her mom was the best grown-up Lena knew. She was beautiful, first off. The prettiest mom in the whole town. And she didn’t wear jeans like the other moms. She wore flowing dresses—she called them captains. No, wait. Kaftans—in bright oranges and yellows and reds, and sometimes deep blues and greens. And big glittery jewelry that she made herself. And she knew all about magic. So much that other witches were always asking her about stuff.
And she loved Lena more than the whole wide world. And Lena loved her back. So with all of that, it wasn’t so bad that she didn’t believe in Lilia. And anyway, she never came right out and said it. Just said she was “keeping an open mind,” whatever
that
meant.
Lena took the wooden spoon and gave her mixture a stir, leaning over to sniff the steam. She had insisted on a drop of dragon’s blood—not from a
real
dragon, of course—as she did in almost all her potions. She loved the smell, and it always felt like a kick of extra power to her.
Her mom, who’d been a witch since she’d been in college, which was a
long
time ago, had taught Lena to trust her instincts.
They let the cauldron simmer for exactly thirteen minutes, then Lena blew out the candle that was heating it from underneath its three long legs and let things cool for thirteen more. Then she dipped a soft cotton ball into the concoction and used it to wash Mamma’s magic mirror.
It was Samhain, the perfect time for divination, and her mom wanted to teach her how to scry. Lilia had said it would be easy and promised to help.
Once the black mirror was all gleaming and wet with the potion, Mamma placed it in a stand, the kind you would use to display a special plate, and turned Lena’s chair so that she could look directly into it.
“Now you probably
think
you’re supposed to look at the mirror. But you’re not, really,” Mamma said. “Just let your eyes go sort of sleepy. Let them be aimed at the mirror but not really looking at it. It takes time and practice, Lena, but eventually you’ll—”
“Something’s happening!”
Mamma blinked at her in that way she had. Lena didn’t see her do it, but she knew. “What’s happening, Lena?”
“It’s all...foggy.”
“Good. Just relax and see if the fog starts to clear.”
“Oh, look!” Lena pointed at the images that were playing out in the mirror as clearly as a movie on TV.
“I can’t see what you’re seeing, Lena. Tell me about it as it unfolds.”
She thought she heard a little bit of doubt in her mom’s voice. Sometimes, Lena knew, her mom thought she was making things up, or at least stretching them out with what she called her turbo-charged imagination. But she
was
seeing that stuff in that mirror. Not in her imagination. But for real.
Go on, tell her what you see,
Lilia whispered.
“There are three girls, all dressed up like Jasmine from
Aladdin
. Hey, I think one of them is Lilia. It is! It’s Lilia!”
“Your imaginary friend?” Mamma asked.
“Yes! Oh, my goodness, that one is me. Only...way different. I’m all grown up in there. And my hair isn’t red like now. It’s black.” Lena giggled. “I’ve got
boobies
.”
“What am I ever going to do with you, witchling?” Lena could hear the smile in her mom’s voice, but she couldn’t look to see it for herself. She just couldn’t take her eyes off of the images in the mirror.
“It’s getting dark, and I’m sneaking out. Gosh, look where I live. It’s like on that show,
I Dreamed about Jennie?
”
“I Dream of Jeannie.”
“Yeah. You know, how it looks inside Jeannie’s bottle? It’s like that.”
“Makes sense. You said you looked like Jasmine.”
“Oh, and there’s a boy. A man, I mean. A prince! A
handsome
prince. Just like in one of my books.” She frowned, then blinked hard. “Oh, no.”
“What, baby?”
“I’m crying. He’s going away. But he says he’s coming back for me soon, and that we’ll live happily ever after. Oh, and he’s kissing me like in a grown-up movie!”
“I think that might be enough for now, Lena.”
One more thing,
Lilia whispered.
“Wait, Mom. There’s one more thing.” Lena blinked and relaxed back in her chair, because the fog had returned. It cleared again, though, and she leaned forward and stared eagerly, but then she sighed. “It’s just a cup. It’s just a stupid cup. Not a story. Just a cup.”
“What does it look like?” Mamma asked.
“Fancy. Silver, with jewels all over it.”
“Sounds like a chalice.”
“As the chalice is to Alice,” Lena chirped. It was a secret joke just between the two of them. See, there was this thing in witchcraft called the Great Rite. In it, a witch lowered her athame—that was a fancy knife—into a chalice. She was supposed to say “As the rod is
to
the God, so the chalice is to the Goddess.” It never made much sense to Lena, though her mom said it would when she got older. It was supposed to be a powerful rite, one of the most powerful in the Craft, and it was done right at the beginning of every ritual.
Lena had once commented that “As the rod is to the God” rhymed, so the second line should, too. And then she changed it to “So the chalice is to Alice.”
Some witches got really mad over that, so she wasn’t allowed to say it in front of them anymore. Mom said some witches just had no sense of humor at all, but that she thought the Goddess would find it funny as hell.
That was just the way she said it, too. “Funny as hell.”
“Lena,” Mamma prompted.
Lena was still staring at the cup in the mirror. “It kinda feels like I’ve seen it before, Mom, but I don’t know where.”
Then the fog returned, and in a second the mirror was just a black mirror again. She sighed and lifted her gaze to her mom. “Did I do all right?”
Mamma looked a little worried. “You did great, honey. I’m very surprised. Most people try for weeks and weeks before they can see anything in the mirror. And then it’s usually shapes in the mist, maybe an image or two, but not a major motion picture.”
“It’s ’cause I’m so young,” Lena explained to her. “Grown-ups have spent too much time forgetting how to believe in magic. I haven’t forgotten yet. That’s what Lilia told me.” She frowned and lowered her eyes, a sad feeling kind of squeezing her heart. “My prince never came back, though. At least, I don’t think so.”
He will, darling. He’ll come back to you, just at the right time. And so will the chalice. You’ll see. And the curse will be broken, and everything will be right again.
“What curse?” Lena asked Lilia very softly.
But Lilia only smiled softly before disappearing.