by Lenore Wolfe
THIRTEEN
MORGAN
Lights from the Jack O’Lanterns lit the pathways from the drive to the barn, two nights later. They’d set up a mighty party at Ravenwood, lighting the way so that the party goers could find their way to the big red barn. The old, gray house turned out to be the perfect place for Halloween. After all, the town already thought of it as spooky.
The wind blew leaves across the yard. Morgan sensed the thinning in the veil between the humans and spirit. She realized she’d always felt it this time of year. More powerful than ever.
They’d set chairs out around three, large tables on the back deck, and Morgan sat in one next to Alex. He reached out now and squeezed her hand.
“You seem happy,” he said in low tones.
Morgan looked up at him. “Yeah?” she said. “Hmmm,” she considered that for a moment. “Yeah, I think I am.” She grinned at him, then sobered. “But—that doesn’t mean I’m not concerned about what we’re going up against.” She gazed over at Claire and lowered her tone to make sure she wouldn’t be overheard. “I’m not stupid. I may not know as much as Claire and Tara. Not by a long shot. But I know we’re in a lot of danger.”
Alex nodded but didn’t say anything.
She leaned her head forward against his chest, as far as the chair would allow her to be close to him. “I love magic, Alex,” she admitted. “But I’m afraid.”
Taking one hand, he tipped her chin up, so he could see her eyes. “Because of what happened when we were children?” he asked.
Her chin quivered, and she nodded.
“We were kids, Morgi,” he said, calling her by a pet name he’d used when they were kids.
Her lips quirked, she couldn’t help it. She’d forgotten all about that.
Grinning at her, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. “We were kids, playing with magic,” he said. We just didn’t know what we were doing.”
She nodded, but the terror running through her veins—warned her that it went deeper than that.
Not liking that train of thought, Morgan pulled herself back to the present. She tipped her head back against her chair. She couldn’t believe how well she sensed those from the other-side, as they more easily moved into the physical world this time of year. She didn’t have to ask her sister—to know—she sensed them, too. The thinning of the veil allowed the spirit world to move amongst them—and the feeling she got from that was nothing short of amazing.
The witch, she’d learned from Claire, stood as the gatekeeper between the worlds. Her sister told her tonight they would share some of that with their neighbors—even if only a few would be aware of what they shared.
Laughter, music and the smell of food, cooking over the barbecues, and pumpkin spice filled the air. Corn stalks, pumpkins, and squash sat in strategic locations along the post and beam structure, signifying the meaning behind the celebration. Hay bales sat against all the walls, where people sat talking and eating, watching those out in the middle of the lawn, dancing.
The entire town had come out for the party. The town’s people seemed only too happy the girls were back. And if anyone grasped that a little extra magick had gone into making the haunted house they’d prepared, they never let on. Instead, the town opened her arms to the sisters, and their friends, welcoming them home with hearts full of love.
People from the town came up to greet Morgan and Claire as if they were long lost, friends. Alex had been right. They’d felt more than a little responsible for Morgan’s disappearance—and they were relieved to see both sisters safely returned. By midnight—their little group had more invites than they could handle in six months.
Friends and neighbors sat around, busy eating and playing games. Music drifted to them from the speakers in the garden for most of the night, controlled by a stereo in the house.
Morgan sighed as laughter from couples dancing, both inside and outside the manor, floated on a light breeze.
The twins handled the haunted house—which they seemed to enjoy way too much, Morgan thought with a smile. But—she’d been busy enjoying something too.
She’d been pleasantly surprised at how much Alex loved to dance. Many men didn’t. Well, she suspected more men might enjoy it more—if they quit teaching each other it wasn’t the manly thing to do.
At any rate, she’d danced nearly every dance with him. In fact, they enjoyed themselves so much, they danced past midnight without realizing it.
They’d stopped only moments before and, now, stood in the back yard near the fire, listening to Jake playing the guitar, and Jack lead the neighbors in a song.
Eyes half closed, Alex smiled at her, pulling her up close to him for another dance. Morgan gazed up at Alex from where she stood with her arms wrapped around his waist. She loved this, dancing with him, with her head against his chest.
When she glanced over at the fire—she saw a flicker. She frowned, then squinted. She made out the form of the shadow flitting towards the trees. She raised her head to stare. In the looming darkness, she saw the winged man give chase.
Alex must have felt her stiffen because he looked down, then followed her stare. He let go of her and started at a dead run toward the woods. Morgan wanted to call to him to halt, but she didn’t want to start a panic with their neighbors. They’d come here to welcome them back, and she wouldn’t let anything make them regret that.
Instead, she snuck out of the crowd and went after Alex.
When they got to the edge of the woods, Alex tipped his head and eyed the trees. Morgan followed his gaze and spotted a shimmer moving through the branches, but nothing more. They stood like that, trying to follow his movement as he appeared to give chase to something—or someone—they couldn’t see.
A shiver snaked down Morgan’s spine. The dusky skies made it difficult to see him, but Morgan didn’t doubt he was there. Nor did she doubt she’d felt him as he shimmered and moved deeper into the woods.
She slipped her arm through Alex’s. “He’s gone,” she said.
He glanced down at her, putting his hand over hers. “The Gargoyle chased him?” he asked.
She nodded. “I’m pretty sure the shimmer was our fast moving, winged Gargoyle friend,” she said.
Alex peered towards the woods, but they both were gone.
After a moment, they turned around and started to head back toward the manor. They met Tara on the way. This time, the twins were too busy entertaining their neighbors to realize what went on.
Morgan smiled. She knew how disappointed they’d be when they learned they’d missed out.
Later, in the wee hours of the morning, when everyone had gone home and they were all in their beds, Alex and Morgan made love. She couldn’t believe how her life had changed in the past few weeks. But then, where years earlier they'd been ripped apart, now the balance of life was set right again. That’s how balance worked, setting things from chaos—back to order. This night, perhaps as a culmination of a perfectly beautiful night, their love-making held a particular sweetness. But Morgan knew the main reason for it.
She’d come home. She’d—returned to Ravenwood.
More than that—their world had been tilted upright. Where before, it appeared they’d lost one another for good. Now, they’d found one another. She and Alex had found one another—once more—and their love had held fast—and triumphed, as if to keep testimony over all the harm done to them.
Her sister had returned home, as well as their friends. And their grandmother watched over them. Their aunt would be here in a few days, and the sisters were looking forward to seeing her—especially Morgan.
She also looked forward to more of the lessons in the attic. Morgan smiled at this. She thought about the town—about the family she’d lost—and now regained. She realized the old saying might be true. Love did make the world go around. And memories lasted a lifetime.
So, that night she and Alex made love—and started a new chapter in their new life. A life that now included the Daughte
rs of the Circle.
Much, much later, Morgan finally did what she’d been putting off for the past several weeks. She gave in and let herself fully absorb exactly what it meant—to be one of the Daughters of the Circle.
What that meant. What Claire had still not been telling her.
She could see something troubled her sister. Heck, when they were in the attic, Claire could barely sit still. Sure, Morgan hadn’t been around her sister in a long time, but she still sensed when something bothered her, as it did now.
Morgan had a feeling it centered on the Daughters of the Circle—and whatever they were supposed to do. But how could they concentrate on that? Sure, it might be as important as all hell—but they had a heck of a load on their plates already, didn’t they? How could anyone expect them to try and deal with more right now?
They couldn’t handle the stuff they had to deal with now.
Yet, Grams had said—the Daughters were the exact reason he hunted them. Morgan sighed. She could see no way around it—he’d hunt them, either way.
Not use to feeling sorry for herself, she straightened her shoulders. It was just, darn it, they’d only just managed to get their group back together—after being scattered to the ends of the earth. Well, at least, the ends of the United States.
Morgan had to wonder if someone had done that on purpose. Perhaps, what happened had been a well thought out plan to get rid of those who were to become the Daughters of the Circle—before they could ever get started doing what they were supposed to do?
Or—perhaps—it had been done to make it more difficult for Dante to track them?
Both of those ideas scared her to death, and she rolled off the bed, coming to her feet and walking to the window to stare out into the dusky sky.
Morgan shivered. If Dante had caused them to become separated—that would mean they had a powerful enemy, indeed. And that would mean he hadn’t pulled any punches in making sure they never had a chance to do what they’d been born to do.
She gazed out into the darkness.
If he were that determined—exactly what would he willingly do now when he found his well-laid plans had failed?
Morgan turned to stare at Alex as he lay sleeping.
On the other hand, if someone in the coven deliberately misled their families into not training them—well she didn’t even want to think what that might mean.
She knew her sister worried they were in way over their head. She knew Tara knew it too. That’s because they were. She couldn’t help the cold feeling that snaked up her spine, as she realized they could get killed before they even had the chance to figure out what they needed to know about him.
Morgan sat up in her chair, turning to stare up at the moon, making a silent vow as she stared at Her bright luminescence—a cold determination pulsing through her.
“It’s high past time we find out what’s hidden from our view,” she said to the Grandmother moon.
Alex stirred behind her, but she didn’t take her eyes off the shadowy night. At that moment, she knew she’d fight to the death to protect her family—they all would.
They were family.