Shadows in Ravenwood (Daughters of the Circle)

by Lenore Wolfe

  TWENTY-ONE

  MORGAN

  Morgan turned towards the knock at her bedroom door. “Come in,” she said, as she kept folding her clothes and setting them on the bed, thinking they should hire some people to come in and get them to fixing whatever they couldn’t on the manor before it got too much colder.

  She glanced up to see Claire coming in the door and smiled. Sunlight streamed through the window behind her. The whole room lit with it. Sunlight always filled her heart to overflowing. And Claire’s attempt at a smile, at that moment, felt like a dark cloud next to that.

  Morgan hesitated half-way through folding a shirt, seeing it. “What is it? What’s wrong?” she said, alarmed.

  Claire grinned. “Wow! You’re pretty good at that—for a sister, who’s been missing for so many years.”

  Morgan made a face, then got up to move a stack of clothes to the top of the dresser. She returned to the bed and patted a spot for Claire to join her.

  “I had the strangest talk with Tara last night,” Claire said.

  “Really?” Morgan said, as always, drinking in the sight of Claire’s face. “What about?”

  “Well—first…,” Claire said, then laughed. “It would seem Tara doesn’t think Sophia is human.”

  Morgan blinked. “Ok-ay. Well,” she said, thinking about that. “Since I’ve been home, you guys have had me believing that none of us are human.”

  Claire eyed her—then chuckled. “You don’t feel human?”

  “We-ll…,” Morgan said. She made a face. “That’s not funny….” She picked up one of the shirts she’d been folding and threw it at her. “I’ve been reading about the A-Neg Rh-factor thing on the internet—and it would seem there’s a line in the human evolution whose DNA evolved from the Rhesus Monkeys,” she said, making a dramatic face to go with it.” She picked up another shirt from the basket and continued folding, looking up at her sister as she went. “They account for eighty-five percent of the population. But then there’s another fourteen percent of the population who doesn’t have it. And there is a lot of speculation about who donated that part of our bloodline.”

  “Really?” Claire said, “How interesting is that?” She leaned forward, clapping her hands together. “You’re saying—like Aliens?”

  Morgan nodded, dramatically. “It would seem—Starborne—for sure. I think that’s who people take for Aliens.” That secret fear she fought shot through her limbs and hit her square in the stomach. She sucked in her breath.

  That meant she couldn’t escape the magick. That meant they all couldn’t evade what destiny had in mind for them to do.

  She closed her eyes, turning her head so Claire wouldn’t see.

  Not noticing, Claire smirked. “Listen to you—already calling them the humans.”

  Taking a deep breath, Morgan turned her to face her sister, pasting a smiled on her face.

  Claire grinned. “But—really. That’s so great. It explains so much.” Then, she sobered. “But I don’t think Tara was talking about our witch blood when she said what she said about Sophia.”

  Morgan frowned, pausing her folding now. “Then, what?”

  Claire bit her lip. “I think she was talking about another race that doesn’t live quite so far away.” She half smiled at the that. “One who lives right here on Earth,” she said pointing down at the Earth.

  Morgan stared, wide-eyed. She thought her eyes would pop. “Like—Fae?”

  Claire nodded, matching Morgan’s earlier dramatics.

  Morgan’s mouth dropped open. “This doesn’t have anything to do with that God-awful Gargoyle statue that went missing?” she asked, jumping up from the bed and walking to the window. “Because it would seem…, she pointed out the window, “that he’s back, again.”

  “That statue is most certainly not awful,” Claire said, getting up to gaze out the window too.

  “It scares the hell out of me,” Morgan hissed, turning away.

  Claire giggled. “I thought you were on his side?” she said. She took Morgan by the shoulders to turn her back to the window. “Look at him. He’s so—beasty—and cute!”

  Morgan’s mouth fell open a second time. “He most certainly is not cute!”

  Claire laughed. “But he is—for sure when he’s is his yummy winged self. So muscular, and so, so strong. He’s like….”

  “Don’t you dare say it,” Morgan said, shaking a warning finger at her sister.

  “A guardian angel,” Claire finished, giggled hard now.

  “You used to say that about that statue when we were kids,” Morgan accused.

  Claire sobered. “You remember?”

  Lowering her gaze, Morgan sobered. “Yeah, actually,” she sniffed, surprised, “I do.”

  Claire grinned. “That’s great!”

  Morgan glanced at her, then her own narrowed. “What was the other thing?” she asked.

  Claire stared at her, clearly confused.

  Morgan shook a finger at her. “You said, first…,” she said. “So, what’s the second thing?”

  Claire appeared completely thrown off track by the unexpected question, but she couldn’t let it go. She saw the moment Morgan recognized what she’d asked.

  “Oh,” she said. She eyed Morgan, grabbing her hands and leaning in, she whispered, “I think one of the coven members convinced the coven not to train us.”

  Morgan leaned back, staring at her sister. “What? But why on earth would they….” she gawked at Claire. “You’re saying they convinced them not to train us? On purpose?”

  “Keep your voice down,” Claire whispered, furiously.

  Morgan turned to gaze out the window. Seeing her point, she lowered her voice to a quiet whisper. “But how on earth did they convince our parents not to protect their kids?”

  Claire looked up at her. Morgan flinched with what she saw there.

  Finally, Claire said, “I don’t know, but that’s what we’re going to find out.” She stared at her. “But that’s not the biggest surprise,” she whispered. “The biggest surprise is that Dante may have been planting enemies around us all these years.”

  Morgan’s mouth fell open.

  Claire gave her a grim smile. “Yeah—that was my reaction too,” she said. Then, whispering, she filled her in.

  Morgan had started down the stairs to find Tara when she got her second surprise of the day.

  She’d been deep in thought when she saw Jake. He sat at the window near the stairs, watching someone outside. He didn’t see her, and when she got closer, she saw that far down the field Sophia had Kira were walking, and it appeared like she walked—toward the woods.

  The first thing that hit her—was to wonder why Sophia headed toward the woods—and with Kira—when they had an enemy stalking them. Then, it dawned on her that Jake seemed so engrossed in watching her, he hadn’t noticed Morgan watching him. She also noticed he had a dark frown on his face. If he was that concerned, she sniffed, why didn’t he just go after her?

  Following his gaze, she saw that he hadn’t done so because Tara sat on the deck below, watching Sophia too. Jake glanced down at Tara, then back up at Sophia—as she walked along the trail, heading straight for the forest.

  At this point, Morgan flushed, feeling like she was spying. That galvanized her forward, and she moved quickly to stand next to Jake. She sensed that he flinched, but he didn’t look up.

  “Where’s Jack?” she asked, glancing down the stairs. Usually, where there was one twin—the other could be found not far behind.

  “He’s keeping an eye on our statue.”

  Morgan’s brow shot up, and she laughed. “Taking turns, huh.”

  He nodded.

  Morgan eyed the window, where Sophia had disappeared. “Why don’t you tell her?” she asked.

  Jake didn’t pretend not to know what she was saying. He knew how accurately she—and Alex—could read people. “I think someone has hurt her. She trusts me, and I don’t want to ruin that.”

 
Morgan frowned, then nodded. “That’s quite insightful, Jake.” She patted his shoulder because he still hadn’t taken his eyes off were Sophia and Kira where fast approaching the woods, then she headed down the stairs to find out why Tara also watched Sophia. She knew why Jake did. But why Tara?

  Tara glanced at her as she came to sit beside her. She didn’t say anything, just sat there watching Sophia and Kira.

  “So,” Morgan said after a while when Sophia disappeared into the woods with Kira, “what exactly are we doing?”

  Tara took a sip of whatever she had in her mug with her fingerless gloved hands. “Hmmm,” Tara said, “wondering why Sophia took her daughter into the woods—when we have an enemy hunting us.”

  Morgan nodded. “Well,” she said, “should we follow her? Or should we trust she has her reasons?”

  Tara flinched. “I trust her,” she tried to explain.

  Morgan’s brows raised. “And yet you think she’s hiding something?”

  Tara sucked in her breath. “Maybe,” she said. “But I think it’s time I find out.”

  “And what makes you think that it’s any of our business?” Morgan pointed out. “After all, she’s a grown up. Just because she lives here doesn’t mean she must give us an accounting of her time? And—just because we’re all family—doesn’t mean she has to tell us all there is to know about her.”

  “True,” Tara said. “But what if she’s in trouble?”

  Morgan pressed her lips together and studied Tara for a moment. “I think you might get your nose poked if you butt into her business,” she said.

  Tara laughed. “You think so,” she said. “Sophia has always struck me as the non-violent type.”

  Morgan grinned as Tara stood. “Be careful,” she said. “There’s a fine line between concerned—and distrustful.”

  Tara nodded and headed down the steps and out the back yard.