The Spell of Three

by Casey Morgan

  They both wrapped their arms around me and held me tight.

  “I love you, my new bride,” Brody said to me.

  “I love you too, Shanna” Ryan added.

  “And I love you both, very much,” I agreed.

  For the first time in my life I had found my family, a family that accepted, loved me, and put me first. I had just had the amazingly beautiful wedding of my dreams, and I was about to have a super hot honeymoon. Maybe we’d even be adding a baby to the mix soon. Luck’s Hollow was truly a lucky place for me.

  THE END

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  Keep reading for an exclusive peek into The Spell of Four

  Here is an exclusive sneak peek into book two the Luck’s Hollow series.

  Chapter 1 – Mila

  I stood outside the Cork Airport in the rain. It was coming down in buckets here in Southern Ireland. I knew before deciding to come here that it rained a lot in Southern Ireland, but, good Lord! I wasn’t prepared for this downpour.

  I could work a rain shield spell, but it didn’t seem worth the effort. I had a hard time doing magic when I was depressed. Sorrow seemed to take the dance out of my fingers and every spell I tried was just a flop.

  And lately, being depressed had become my status quo. So, I stopped trying. It was hard to be a witch without magic but that wasn’t the biggest thing I had lost lately.

  I knew I shouldn’t be standing out in the rain when I was perfectly capable of shielding myself, but it wasn’t the worst thing ever. True, I couldn’t see the Uber drive up from my vantage point – hidden behind a large concrete divider and under an awning –

  but I had the time when the driver would arrive. That would have to do.

  The rain started coming down even harder. I sighed. It was like the whole world was crying.

  I had shed a ton of tears in the last few weeks since my mother died. I was cried out now. So, the world cried for me. That’s what the rain felt like.

  I clutched my leather bag to my body, making sure that none of the moisture got into it and ruined the precious documents I had inside. They constituted the last gift from my mother. Also, my last connection to her.

  Without them, I knew I would feel as if I had nothing. I was alone. I had even given away my fish when I came here to Ireland.

  The awning above me soaked through and started dripping. A large fat drop of water plopped onto my head and saturated my red hair. It was very cold. I shivered and clung to my bag more fiercely.

  “Mila?” a voice about ten yards away called. “Mila?”

  I looked around the cement divider that I had my back to. I saw that a werewolf was in one of those tiny little three wheeled cars and was calling for me. He must be my driver.

  The car was bright yellow and shaped like a slice of pizza. It would be cramped for sure, but that was better than waiting in the rain for another ride.

  I leaned around the divider and waved a hand at the fellow. He pulled up closer, hopped out and helped me put my bags into the tiny car’s hatchback section. I hurried to the passenger’s seat and he got back into the driver’s.

  Once inside, the Were grinned at me. His face was slightly scruffy, with the usual beard that old wolves were so fond of wearing. He wore an old plaid cap of red and yellow, and a tan rain coat.

  “Morning, Lass,” he said, with a thick accent. “Welcome to Ireland.”

  I nodded, not sure I could find my voice yet.

  “American?” he asked, as he wove the little car back into traffic.

  I nodded again.

  “I’m supposed to be driving ye up to Luck’s Hollow?”

  “Yes, sir.” My voice practically croaked, because I had used it so little recently. “I have reservations at a bed and breakfast called Hennessey House.”

  The driver snorted.

  “Aye, I’ve heard of the place. Quite the place for recreation if you ask me. Meeting someone there?”

  “Yes. I mean no. I mean I hope so,” I rambled.

  The old Were smiled at me again. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and stuck it in his mouth. After rolling down the window just a crack, he lit it and puffed the smoke.

  “A pretty thing like you will have her pick of the lads,” he told me. “Don’tcha worry your wee little head about it.”

  I waved the smoke away from my face.

  “No, you don’t understand,” I explained. “I’m not looking for love. I’m looking for my family. My mother was born in a nunnery in Luck’s Hollow.”

  The Were nodded. “Sister Agatha’s, aye. I know it well. They’ve an elf woman there who has delivered most of the babies in town for generations.”

  My mother had told me something similar.

  “She was adopted by an Irish family from New York and they took her to America,” I continued to explain. “But she always wanted to meet her birth parents. So, she contacted the nunnery last year after my father died. They dug up her records. They think her family is still in Luck’s Hollow. I’m… I’m going to find out. Meet my grandparents.”

  My fingers brushed the folder in my purse. It had sat on Mom’s desk for months, slowly being filled with every new name and hint that she collected in her search for her roots.

  It was so important to her. It was probably one of the last things she touched before she died.

  “That’s a good thing to do.” The Were blew out another cloud of cigarette smoke. “Figuring out what kind of folk they are, for your ma?”

  I felt a knot clamp down in my throat.

  “Not exactly. She couldn’t come.” My voice broke and tears started to run down my face. “She died two weeks ago.”

  The driver tutted.

  “Bad luck and leprechauns! Ya poor dear.” He pulled a few tissues out of his glovebox and handed them to me. “There, there now. Yer ma would be proud that yer finishing her adventure.”

  I wiped my eyes with the tissues and took a deep breath.

  “I’m all alone now,” I explained. “So, it seemed like the right time to look for family.”

  He gave me a warm smile with the cigarette clinched in his teeth. “A good time indeed.”

  Most of the rest of the drive to Luck’s Hollow was spent in comfortable silence. I didn’t feel up to small talk and my driver seemed to understand that.

  The rain never ceased, so my impressions of the scenery of Ireland were very limited. But, the occasional break in the clouds showed vast fields of green interrupted by a few stone walls.

  As we got closer to town, we passed an orchard. When I asked the driver what kind of trees they were, he told me they were apple and that a local elf family ran the orchard.

  Running an orchard with your family seemed like a pleasant idea. But then again, having any kind of family seemed desirable at this point.

  Luck’s Hollow opened up to us after we went over a hill. It was quaint: cobble stone streets, three story buildings connected together and lining the roads, tall green lamp posts and park benches.

  Everywhere there was greenery and landscaping. It was picturesque. Actually, it was down right perfect. My mother would have loved it. It was like something out of the storybooks she used to read me at night when I was a child.

  My Uber driver gave me a brief tour as we headed for Hennessey House. It was this bed and breakfast I had booked online. It seemed to have decent ratings, although there were a couple of weird complaints about the staff.

  I never trusted weird complaints. I figured they were the rival inns trying to tear down their competition.

  The Were pulled his little yellow car up to a larger, stand-alone building. He turned to me and smiled again.

  “Keep yer chin up, lass,” he said. “There
’s a great deal of magic here in Luck’s Hollow. The good kind of magic.”

  After a pause, he added, “Mixed with some of the bad, but isn’t everything in life?”

  He must have noticed the scared look that had come over my face because he was quick to reassure me.

  “But mostly the good kind of magic. I’m sure ye will find yer family and maybe something more. Maybe a bit of that love ye say you’re not looking for. Who isn’t looking for love, though, right?”

  I just continued to look at him without saying anything, until he sheepishly shrugged his furry shoulders at me.

  “Well, anyway. If you need another ride, just give me a call. My name is Cullen.”

  He grabbed the tip of his cap and pulled it down over his pointy ears in a sweet salute. Meanwhile, I sent some magic to the back of the car, to open the hatchback and gently lower my bags onto the cobblestone street.

  “Thank you, Cullen,” I told him, warming to his nice ways despite my sorrow. “I appreciate the ride.”

  I stepped out of the car, gabbed my bags and glanced up at my destination. My heart began to flutter a bit. I was ready to start my new adventure.

  Chapter 2 – Mila

  When I arrived at Hennessey House, I saw that it was as charming in person, if not more so, then it was advertised to be online. It was a large cottage looking building, made of rough stones mortared together.

  The shutters and wood that surrounded the window frames was painted a deep red. The roof had shingles that the rain ran down, and from there it flowed into gutters.

  Unlike back home, rain seemed to suit this place. It was welcomed and expected in Ireland. The houses and buildings even seemed to be planned around it.

  As soon as I entered the lobby, I saw that a pretty witch about my age was working the front desk. She had light-red curls and a figure similar to mine: curvy and petite.

  “Hello, welcome to Hennessey House,” she greeted. “I’m Shanna. How can I help you today? Are you checking in?”

  I was surprised that she didn’t have an Irish accent. But I didn’t say anything, as that would be a strange way to first greet a stranger.

  “Hey, Shanna, I’m Mila Jackson,” I told her instead.

  We shook hands.

  “Oh, yes, welcome,” she said. “Your room is ready for you. Did you have a nice flight?”

  “Ugh, are there nice flights anymore?”

  I tried to laugh but it came out of as a kind of embarrassing half-snort. I blushed a bit.

  Shanna shrugged her shoulders and ignored my embarrassment.

  “Yeah, I know, right?” she agreed. “At what point did the airlines like, give up and say let’s turn every plane into a dirty taxi from the 1980’s?”

  I smiled at her comment. She seemed very nice.

  “Can you believe the creeps they have working in the TSA?” I added. “Such pigs.”

  I attempted to smile at her. Maybe we could be friends. I could use a friend right about now.

  “Yeah,” she agreed. “They get that uniform and it goes right to their head. I am so glad I decided to stay in Ireland. If only for the fact that I didn’t have to ride a plane back to the States.”

  So, that explains it, I thought. She’s American, too.

  We were two American witches in this small Irish town. What a coincidence. But, considering that there was a long history of witches and other fairy creatures relocating from Ireland to the States, I supposed there were stranger things in the world to have happen.

  A handsome Irish elf walked into the room and smiled at us. He was well over six feet tall, with light brown hair and an amazing body. Even his long pointy ears were attractive.

  There weren’t a lot of elves in my town back home. Seeing one here was kind of exciting.

  The elf moved up beside Shanna in a familiar way.

  “Hey baby,” she greeted him. “Mila, this is Brody. Brody, this is Mila…”— she glanced up at the computer screen in front of her to recall my last name— “Jackson, our new guest.”

  “Charmed,” he said, reaching over to shake my hand.

  Then he placed his arm around Shanna, resting a hand on her hip.

  “I hope yer stay here is pleasant,” he said, eyeing me carefully.

  Feeling a bit uncomfortable under his gaze, I stepped back a bit.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Do ye two not see it?” he asked, glancing from Shanna to me and back again.

  “See what, babe?” asked Shanna, looking up towards him.

  “Come here a tic,” he said, gesturing towards a silver framed mirror in the lobby’s cozy seating area.

  We both followed him over. He stood us side by side in front of the mirror.

  “Take a look at yourselves. Do ye not see it?” he asked, in his thick accent. “Ye could be sisters. Twins, even.”

  I studied Shanna’s and my face. We had the same cheekbones and jaw line. Her eyes were slightly lighter than mine and a bit rounder. Her hair was lighter too; light-red as compared to my dark red. Overall, the resemblance was uncanny.

  “Whoa, weird, now that you mention it,” admitted Shanna. She gave me a half-smile in the mirror. “I didn’t see it when you walked in.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “That’s so weird. I did think there was a resemblance between us, actually, but then I got distracted by your lack of an Irish accent. Before you mentioned that you were from the States. Just like me. Part of why I’m here is that I’m researching my ancestry. I’m looking for my family roots.”

  Shanna looked at me. Brody smiled behind us. He put his hands on Shanna’s shoulders.

  “Well, I think ye may have stumbled upon it,” suggested Brody.

  He was grinning.

  “What family name are ye tied to?” he asked.

  I headed back to the front desk and got out the folder from my bag. It contained all the research my mother had collected on her birth mother – every little scrap of info she could find online or retrieve from the nunnery.

  I ran my eyes over a few pages. I was looking for the right name.

  “McDonnell’s the name,” I said. “Yeah, that’s it. Apparently, they are a family of witches who are supposed to be living nearby. Do you know of any of those folks in the area?”

  “My maiden name is McDonnell,” said Shanna, after a pause, as if she was in shock.

  She had followed me back to the front desk.

  “Before I married the guys, I was…”

  She stopped, and her face went pale.

  “Oh, no.”

  “What is it?” I asked, confused by her reaction.

  Brody put a hand up to stop what Shanna was about to say.

  “The McDonnells don’t have a very good reputation around here,” the elf said, diplomatically.

  Shanna frowned.

  “Tell her the truth, Brody,” she grumbled. “They’re a bunch of thieves, liars and bullies. They are bad witches and some of the most unpleasant folk you’ll ever meet.”

  My stomach dropped.

  Unpleasant? Bad Witches?

  What did Shanna mean?

  Was my whole trip just going to end in more heartache?

  Good Lord. I didn’t know how much more I could bear.

  “Aye, it’s true,” agreed Brody, heading out.

  He grabbed the handle to the red front door.

  “But she just walked into the lobby, Shanna. I wanted to wait until she had at least a pint or two in her to break the bad news. Speaking of which, you’re welcome to it on the house.”

  He looked at me and nodded.

  “I’m sure it’ll all work out just fine,” he added, undoubtedly after seeing the pained look on my face.

  Then he practically skipped out the front door and closed it quickly behind him, leaving Shanna and I alone again.

  Great. I just traveled thousands of miles to find out my ancestors are assholes. I guess that was always a possibility, though. I didn’t know what awaited me in Ireland, and
I had known I should be prepared for bad news as equally as likely as good news. But actually finding it out is a different reality than just imagining the possibility.

  Maybe that was why my mom was given away – so that she could have a better life in the States.

  I put my hands to my temples and tried to rub away the headache that was forming there. I really didn’t want to deal with more bad news.

  Wait, I though – nearly as an afterthought because I had been too busy dwelling on the news about my ancestors to think about much else. Did Shanna just say she married “guys,” plural? That’s really weird.

  I shook my head a bit. I must have heard her wrong.

  But once again, I decided not to pry. Even though she was the one who had brought it up, it really wasn’t my business and I didn’t want to get off on the wrong fit with her, as either a current hotel guest or a potential future friend.

  “That would just be crazy if it turned out we were related,” I said to Shanna. “Would you have some time to maybe go through some papers with me?”

  “Sure, but why don’t you get settled in first?” she suggested and smiled sweetly at me. “I’m sure you’d like to relax for a minute after your trip. When you’re ready, come down for that free pint. The door to the pub is right over there.”

  She pointed towards a hallway to the right of the front desk.

  “Thanks, that sounds great,” I said.

  Another handsome Irish elf walked into the lobby. Again, he was over six feet tall, and built, but this elf had long blonde hair pulled back in a braid and lighter green eyes. He had the same familiar body language as Brody, as well as a similar appearance.

  “Where’s my brother?” he asked.

  That would explain the similar appearance, I thought.

  “Down the street, babe,” said Shanna.

  She gestured to me, but I was thinking, ‘Babe?’ Did she really just call him ‘babe,’ too?

  “This is Mila, our new guest,” she informed him.

  The elf glanced at me quickly.

  “Oh, aye. How ya doin’?” he asked me.

  Then he turned back to Shanna. It was like his eyes wanted to only be on her.