Changeling: An Appalachian Magic Novel Book 2 (Appalachian Magic Series) Page 23

  Michael snickered.

  “Bring on the ladies,” Tanner said, gathering up his crutches. “We better get going my man. Piedmont’s a long drive in the morning.”

  He and Michael said their goodbyes—much to Katie and Glenna’s disappointment.

  “I’ll see you at home in a few days,” Skye said to Michael.

  Home. She and Mom still had lots to work out. But at least they’d been talking—really talking—these past few weeks.

  As they left, Kyle and Katie’s parents came through the door.

  Kheelan tensed and Skye touched his hand under the table.

  “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.” Mama D rushed to the door and took their coats.

  The attractive older couple made their way over. Mrs. Jeffries eyes immediately sought out Kheelan. A well-manicured hand touched her throat at the sight of him. Mr. Jeffries strode straight to Kheelan and shook his hand. “Katie’s right. There’s a strong resemblance between you and Kyle. Remarkable.”

  Kheelan nodded and returned the warm handshake, a muscle tightening in his jaw.

  “Yeah, but Dad, once you’ve been around them a few minutes you can tell the difference easy. Kyle’s hair is curlier and his expression’s all different,” said Katie.

  Mrs. Jeffries sank into a chair beside Kyle, her face pale and tight. Kyle kept glancing at his mom and tilting his head to one side. “Mama, okay?” he asked.

  Glenna gathered up the tarot deck and shoved them across the table to Skye. “Time for me to head out too,” she said.

  So pathetic. And obvious. With Tanner gone, Glenna’s interest in the party was over.

  Under the table, Kheelan’s hand squeezed hers as everyone engaged in small talk. She couldn’t imagine how hard it must be having his long-lost parents show up and not be able to tell them he was their son.

  His mom was shaken. She kept stealing glances at Kheelan and had trouble keeping up her end of the conversation. When their family finished desert, and rose to go home, Mrs. Jeffries hung back. Before leaving, she placed a hand on Kheelan’s cheek, so much like Kyle’s.

  She knows something.

  “Katie’s told me how kind you’ve been to Kyle these last few weeks, taking him to the movies and out to eat,” Mrs. Jeffries said. Her eyes—so similar to Kheelan’s—were moist. “You’re welcome in our home anytime.”

  “I’ll take you up on that that,” Kheelan said, his voice gruff.

  Skye looked away, feeling like an intruder. Gathering dirty dishes, she carried them over to the kitchen where Mama D was loading the dishwasher.

  “Why don’t you go home?” she asked. “I’ve got this covered.

  When I’m done, I’ll lock up.”

  Mama D dried her hands on a dish towel. “That’s an offer I can’t refuse. I don’t know what I would have done without you lately, what with Claribel’s death and all. I can’t get over how quick it happened. One weekend we were having a grand time at the psychic fair and the very next week she falls down the stairs at home and twists her neck.”

  Skye shuddered. “A shame,” she said quietly. But she knew it was no freak accident. The Dark Fae had punished Claribel for letting Skye escape.

  “I hope wherever she is, she’s with her precious fairies.”

  “I’m sure they have a special place for Claribel,” Skye assured Mama D. In some deep, dark pit. Skye thought of Finvorra and wasn’t sure the Seelie fairies had been any less harsh. His punishment for abusing Kheelan was to be stripped of all fairy powers. Now human, cirrhosis of the liver worked its poison. Finvorra wasn’t long for the world of mortals either.

  Mama D slipped out and Skye reentered the coffee house. Kheelan again stood alone by the window. He had much to learn about human social interaction. She went over and wrapped her arms around him, felt the solid warmth of his body. “You’re not alone anymore,” she whispered fiercely.

  He stared straight ahead. “The first time I saw you, I knew that.”

  “Because you recognized I was The One who could rescue you from the fairies,” she teased.

  “No, even before that. I caught a glimpse of you through the store windows the first night I came to town. There was something about you . . .” He laughed self-consciously. “I followed you to your apartment.”

  Skye pulled back in surprise. Kheelan wouldn’t look her in the eyes. “Stalker,” she laughed.

  He kissed the top of her head. “See what you do to me? I stood out there in the dark, miserable cold listening to the fairies taunt me. I never would have thought—” He paused, fumbled in the pocket of his jacket, and pulled out a tiny box. “For you.”

  Skye lifted its lid with trembling fingers. The goldstone she’d once given him was now mounted on a braided gold chain and shone as brilliant as a sliver of sunshine, warming her palm as she picked it up.

  “You told me the stone helped people remember their dreams and destiny.” Kheelan slipped the necklace over her head. “You are my destiny, Skye.”

  Kheelan kissed her. A mind-bending, toe-curling kiss that Skye swore could steam up the nearby window. And when it was over, she held him tight.

  A tiny flash of light flickered in the darkness. Skye blinked. No way it could be firefly this time of year. She wiggled her fingers in a wave where the light had shone and it reappeared, flashing in response. A pixie.

  Kheelan stepped away. “Let’s clean up and get out of here.”

  At the table, Skye started putting the tarot cards in their box. “You’ve never read my cards,” said Kheelan. He pulled up a chair and tapped the deck. “Hit me.”

  “It’s not a poker game.” Skye shuffled and pulled two cards— Six of Wands, and Eight of Cups. “You have the strength to overcome any obstacles and obtain victory through your powerful will.” Skye pointed to the Eight of Cups. “You let go of the past and look toward the future.”

  Kheelan whistled. “What do the cards foretell for you?”

  Skye spread out all seventy-eight of the tarot and ran her hands over them until she felt a warm tingling in the palm of her left hand. “This one.” She set it aside, face-down, and gathered the rest of the cards back together.

  “Well, what is it?” he asked.

  “I don’t have to look. It’s the Knight of Pentacles.”

  Kheelan flipped it over. “Neat trick. I’m impressed.”

  “It’s no trick. The card represents someone very important in my future.”

  Kheelan’s brown eyes darkened to a deep sable. “Do I know this person?” His right hand, free of its tattoo, roamed over her wingless back.

  Skye touched his lips. “It’s you,” she whispered. “The cards and crystals tried to tell us all along that we belonged together.”

  Charmed and Dangerous Excerpt

  APPALACHIAN MAGIC BOOK 1

  Seven years later

  “You have to go back, Callie. You’re in real danger.”

  Go back. Danger. For two days the words haunted her. Now she was on the road, the rhythmic sound of the tires on the highway putting her into a trance. Danger, danger, danger. The minute Aunt Mallory opened the letter with an Alabama postmark, everything changed.

  She didn’t want to go back. Of all the nerve. She’d been exiled in New Jersey for seven years, and now Mom and Grandma Jo decided she must return at once.

  Callie hit the gas pedal. The angrier she got, the faster she drove. What should have been a fourteen-hour drive due south, she’d cut to a mere ten hours. She’d never traveled so far on her own, and convincing Aunt Mallory to let her do it wasn’t easy. Especially since her old Volkswagen convertible, the ‘Dixie doodlebug,’ had over 150,000 miles.

  Her heart skipped at the road sign, ‘Welcome to Alabama. The State of Surprises.’ No shit, Sherlock. Not even a mile away was another green and white sign proclaiming ‘Entering Central Time Zone.’ More like the twilight zone.

  Callie’s tension eased a bit as she neared Piedmont, the small town bordering Georgia and surround
ed by the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. In the gathering dusk, the rolling hills had a magical, ancient vibe. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad here. It’s not like she had a choice anyway. Aunt Mallory made that clear. Mom and Grandma Jo had convinced her aunt she needed to come home where the coven could help protect her.

  Callie rubbed her sore face. She’d clenched her jaw so long her temples throbbed. She consciously relaxed her facial muscles and rolled her shoulders. Much better.

  The cell phone rang. Aunt Mallory again.

  Callie smiled. “What? Are you going to call me every hundred miles?

  “Smart aleck. Where are you now?”

  “I’m about to enter the huge metropolis of Piedmont. According to its sign, the name literally means; ‘the foot of the mountain.’ Population: 4,964.”

  “Great.” Aunt Mallory let out a whoosh. “I’ve been so worried about you falling asleep at the wheel. I still think you should have spent the night somewhere along the way. You remember how to get to Mama’s house?”

  “Pretty much. The GPS can help me navigate the back roads if I get lost.”

  “Call me if it doesn’t recognize the dirt roads.”

  Callie rolled her eyes. “I know, I know.”

  Aunt Mallory sighed. “Glad you’re almost there. Tell Mama and Ginnie I said ‘hey’ and call me when you arrive.”

  Callie couldn’t speak around her tight throat. I’m really going to see them again. Silence haunted the air.

  “It’s going to be all right, Callie. They’re excited to see you.”

  Her aunt knew her so well. She cleared her throat. “If you say so. Change of subject. I’ve been finding sprigs of rosemary and basil everywhere in the car. What did you do? Dig up all your herbs?”

  Aunt Mallory laughed. “Guilty. We cast a protection spell in the crystal for a safe trip, and you always have your mom’s amber talisman. But a little added herbal charm couldn’t hurt.”

  “Better hope the cops don’t pull me over; they’ll think I’m a drug dealer.” Callie missed her aunt already. What would she have done without her all these years? “You’re the best,” she whispered.

  The GPS kicked in. “Turn left onto Booger Hollow Road,” it instructed.

  “Gotta go, Aunt Mallory.

  “Bye. Don’t forget to—”

  “—call you. I will. Bye.”

  Callie made the turn on Booger Hollow. Cute. Road names in these hills and dales had kept her amused the past hour. The street narrowed then turned to red clay where the pavement ended. Was she still going the right way? According to the GPS, this was correct, but she slowed the car. It was dark, and she had visions of the road ending at someone’s home. Possibly someone with a shotgun. People lived in the middle of nowhere for a reason. They didn’t want strangers bothering them.

  She touched the crystal pendant hanging on the interior mirror. Its faint prism glow in the moonlight soothed her frazzled nerves.

  The disembodied voice broke in again. “Turn right on Lavender Mountain Road. Destination is .4 miles.”

  She cut the doodlebug onto the rough, graveled road, relieved to recognize the location. “Arriving at—”

  Callie unplugged the GPS and pulled into the long winding driveway where Grandma Jo’s house blazed with lights. Despite the chill of the late December air, Mom and Grandma Jo waited on the wrap-around porch. As the car’s headlights flashed on them, they rose from their rocking chairs, tossing aside quilts wrapped around their legs.

  Callie had every intention of guarding her heart against these two. After all, they’d banished her years ago. And they hadn’t come to see her once, only wrote or called. And now when she didn’t want to come home, they’d finally sent for her.

  Still, her heart raced with anticipation as she got out of the car.

  Callie!” Mom cried, running down the porch stairs to give her a hug. The wind whipped her long silver-white hair into a ghostly mane.

  Callie froze at the tight embrace. She stepped back and eyed her MIA mother with wary curiosity. Ginnie Bradford was a pale woman with waist length, silver-white hair. Although a bit too thin and fragile-looking, with worry lines etching her face, it was obvious she’d once been a total babe.

  “You’re so . . . grown. Nothing like the skinny child that was all eyes and legs when I last saw you.” The faded blue eyes watered. “I missed out on all your growing up. It’s so unfair!” Her hands fisted by her sides.

  Fair? Oh no she didn’t. She was the one on the raw end of the deal. The first few months of separation, she could understand. Mom had some kind of breakdown. But after that, it had been nothing but innuendos that she’d been shuffled away because of some vague danger.

  Callie crossed her arms. “How do you think I’ve felt all these years? I’m the one you sent away, and you never once visited.”

  Mom hunched her shoulders and dipped her head. “I wrote you every week,” she whispered.

  “Big freaking deal.” Those fluff letters full of no real information, empty prattle about her precious animals and her job . . . blah, blah, blah. And she had the nerve to end those letters with ‘Your loving Mom.’ Grandma Jo’s letters were equally as lame, filled with her latest Cause of The Week—campaigns for a cleaner environment, the plight of the polar bears, etc.

  Callie wouldn’t have bothered writing back if Aunt Mallory hadn’t thrown a hissy fit. Every month, she made Callie sit down and write a letter. For spite, Callie wrote drivel about schoolwork and how much fun it was living with her new family, and how great it was living in a big city, so much better than the freaking backwoods of Alabama. She signed off her letters with ‘Your obedient daughter.’

  Grandma Jo stood at the top of the porch stairs. “Ginnie, why don’t y’all come inside now,” she called out crisply. “Callie’s got to be exhausted from that long drive.”

  Grandma Jo walked down the porch steps, calm and collected as always. She certainly looked too healthy and young to be anyone’s grandma. Only her short, spiky gray hair gave away her age.

  Gripping her in a firm hug, Grandma Jo said in a strong, clear voice, “Let’s shelve all that unpleasantness until tomorrow. Tonight is your homecoming, and it’s awful good to see you. Now, come on in and tell us all about your trip.”

  Callie resigned to play along. After all these years, she could wait one more night for answers.

  And she would ferret out the truth. No matter the cost.

  Want more?

  Charmed and Dangerous

  Charmed by the Salem Witch

  Thank You!

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  About Debbie Herbert

  Debbie Herbert writes paranormal romance novels reflecting her belief that love, like magic, casts its own spell of enchantment. She’s always been fascinated by magic and romance!

  Married and living in Alabama, she roots for the Crimson Tide football team. When not working on her upcoming books, Debbie enjoys recumbent bicycling and jet skiing with her husband as well as spending time with her two adult sons.

  Changeling was a finalist in two prestigious writing contests. It was runner-up for the Maggie award in Young Adult, & one of three national finalists in the Rosemary Award given by the Young Adult Chapter of the Romance Writers of America.

  She is also a Rita finalist, with the Romance Writers of America, for best published paranormal romance book, Bayou Shadow Hunter, in 2016.

  For More Information:

  www.debbieherbert.com

 

 

 
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