Shadows and Sorcery: A Collection of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Adkins, Heather Marie

  Riley suppressed a sigh. Her mother tried so hard. But the pizza would be a far cry from any she could have in New York, and the cake would say the same thing it always said. Happy Birthday, Sam and Riley. Her mother hadn't changed that tradition since they'd been in Georgia. Riley was expected to blow out her candles each year, leaving half the cake still lit for her father. They let it burn until the icing snuffed the flames, and then somehow they never seemed to eat it.

  "Sounds good, huh?"

  "Yeah, it's what we always do." Riley faked a smile. She didn't have the heart to say what they both knew was true. The cake was a lie. Her whole life was a lie. After what had happened, she didn’t know what to think. She eyed her mother. Was everything a lie? Did she actually have some kind of powers?

  "Well, I thought we'd start a new tradition this year." Her mother's voice broke slightly at the word tradition. She touched Riley's necklace. "Like we did with your charms."

  Riley hooked a finger on her necklace and closed her eyes against the spots of light filtering through her vision. The charms came with each birthday and Christmas, and sometimes on her pillow for a special occasion. Like the tree charm she'd found tucked in her sock drawer the first night she'd pitched a no-hitter. They were beautiful works of art, and she loved her mom for trying-- but nothing could make them a normal family again. Not jewelry, not cake, not puddled candles. And definitely not new traditions.

  If Tsura had told her the truth, which she felt in her heart was right, then they would never be normal again. Never were.

  Riley fought the tears stinging behind her eyes. "I don't want a new tradition. I want to go home."

  It wasn’t what she’d meant to say, but it was something she hadn't said in a long time. It hung between them now, suspended by their locked gazes.

  "This is home, Riley. It's our home." Her mom said it quietly and looked so sad Riley felt bad for saying it.

  She looked away toward the bureau where Liz's jacket was spread eagle beside an ornate box, one jacket arm hanging down the front drawers. A dark pattern of blood spread up the sleeve.

  Her mom cleared her throat and spoke louder. "But maybe you need to get away."

  Riley dropped the charm she’d been rolling between her fingers and stared at her mother. "That man was there. It all happened just like I said. Liz may not have seen him, but he was there. I have the nail to prove it. You know it's real. Whatever I did … it was real." She heard her voice reach a panting octave and tried to slow her words. "You believe me. You said you did. I need to know, mom. I need to know why he came for me."

  Her chest rose and fell with the panic that had been gripping her since she'd first felt those soulless black eyes watching her. She glanced at her dresser where she'd hidden the nail and started toward it.

  "Calm down, sweetie." Her mother pulled her into a tight hug. "I believe you. It was terrible what happened to you. I wish I could have saved you from that.”

  Her mom closed her eyes suddenly and touched her hand to her head. “Sorry, very bad headache. What were you saying, darling?”

  Riley met her mother’s squinted gaze. She seemed weird. She looked up like she’d lost her train of thought and then added, “I think we both need a change of scenery."

  Riley took advantage of the moment. "I want New York."

  "We can't. Next choice."

  "Then anywhere but here." Riley closed her eyes and let her cheek rest against her mother's hair.

  "How does Ireland sound?"

  Riley pulled back. "Ireland?"

  Her mother nodded, a smile playing at her lips. "I just thought you might want to see Grandpa."

  "He's not here?"

  He always came for her birthday. She was hurt. Unless …

  “Is he okay?”

  "He’s fine. You know he wouldn’t miss your birthday, but something came up." Her mother looked away and stood. She reached for the box on top of the bureau, carefully avoiding Liz's jacket. "Here. He sent your present, though. Said to tell you he wants your help with the Donahue place."

  Riley fingered the thick ribbon, hesitant to pull it from its intricate knot. Her grandfather's distinct scent wafted up from the box, a mix of pipe tobacco and the sweet, creamy toffees he always had in his pocket. When he lived with them in their New York apartment, he kept a tin of them under his bed and shared them with her over wild bedtime stories. A wave of homesickness worried itself into her consciousness.

  "Okay, let's go."

  Her mom smiled and cleared her throat."I can't. I mean, not right now. You know how Peters is. This conference has been scheduled for months. I have to be there, but I have vacation time saved up and as soon as the last panel is over, I’ll be on the next flight out. I need to know you’re safe until then, so it’s to grandpa’s house you go. He’s been begging for ages for us to come. You know what he says. It's a cold house that has no woman in it."

  Riley nodded. She could use some time away from here. She met her mother's eyes, and guilt invaded her mind. Her mom seemed lost. What if someone came for her too? "I shouldn't go without you. I could go with you to the conference and then to Grandpa’s."

  "You'll be fine. I'll be fine. Da' will be over the moon. But listen." Her mom reached out and righted the little ruby red shoe, the first on the timeline they'd created since her father had left. Riley didn't know why she bothered to right it. It would just turn itself around again in seconds. Her mom took a deep breath. "Your grandpa is a great man. He was the best, kindest father to Rob and me. Always there for us."

  Her mom sighed, looking away from the necklace and down at her hand where she still wore her band. She twisted it round and round before looking back at Riley.

  "He told us stories every night. Just like he did with you. Skin-crawling legends and beautiful tales of faeries and gold and heroes built of tide." She stopped and her gaze went to the bureau. "Thing is, he really believed those tales. The reason he bought Donahue castle is because he became obsessed with finding out what happened to his best friend who disappeared over sixty years ago.”

  “How terrible.”

  “I know. But don’t let him waste his life trying to find out what happened to that kid. Maybe you can see that he’s okay.”

  Riley nodded. “I’ll take care of him.”

  Her mom wrapped her in a hard hug. “You’re a good kid. Proud of you.”

  “Thanks, mom.”

  “Love you. Saints be with you."

  Riley swallowed hard. “Love you.” Her mom had used their family blessing. Her father always said it before each trip and especially when he was particularly worried. Like her first day in self-defense class or the first time she rode the subway alone. But her mom had never said it before. She must be worried.

  Her mom released her and headed into the hallway towards the kitchen. "Okay, I’ll go see about that pizza. Be back with some more ointment.”

  Riley pulled the bow off in one piece, its shape intact, and lifted a book from the bubble wrap. "It's a book."

  Since when did her fun grandpa send books? At least it was an art book. The Canvas of the Soul. The faded dust jacket boasted itself as the best resource on modern brush techniques. When was that modern?

  She carefully turned the yellowing pages. The whole thing was written in calligraphy. Not an art book. It was someone’s journal. She flipped back to the front. Sean Donahue. Her grandpa’s friend?

  Riley flipped a few pages in, scanned the page, and stopped midway at a random paragraph.

  I am seeing for the first time. Stone calls to me, not cold but slow, as though time itself failed to move through its density There is always the memory of heat and the longing to again melt and change.

  What followed was indistinct, and Riley skipped ahead until she came upon a pencil illustration, a smudgy blur of a woman in a long dress with her head to the side and her back to the viewer. Under it was written two words in another language followed by a deeply etched passage like the writer was in a hurry to
pour out whatever had him in its grip.

  This vision that found me haunts my hours, waking or in slumber. I know we will meet again, this maiden of mist. I see you as in a pond, the ripples threatening to carry you off. My heart knows you, as surely you know mine. It pulses to your every breath. Come again, breathe life to me, my vision, my dream.

  Riley slipped the dust jacket off and let her fingers trace the gold-stamped letters on the cover. SD. The hairs on her arm rose and her skin tingled. She turned to the first page. A piece of paper had her grandfather's scrawl laid out in bold letters.

  The time has come, as the Walrus said, for us to talk of many things…

  * * *

  “I can’t believe you’re going to Ireland. And without me.” Liz pouted as she took one of Riley’s bags and placed it on the airport cart. “Not fair, Riley.”

  Riley kept her gaze on the moving crowd. Anxiety had her seeing danger in every stranger. She worried for everyone in her life and herself. No one seemed to be taking what happened to her seriously, and the only person who had known anything about magic was gone. Tsura’s ring was on her right middle finger now, but even the promise of its protection did nothing to calm her.

  Liz looked worried underneath the smile and cheerful voice. She’d been there. She knew how spooked Riley was. Riley could read the knowing look Liz tried to hide. She thought Riley was running away.

  She was running. She only wished she could take everyone she loved with her. Her unspoken fear was that her mom and Liz would be in danger. But that was probably true with or without her.

  “You okay, Riley? Really?”

  “Yeah, I’m good. Promise.” Riley didn’t meet Liz’s gaze. “Oh, I want you to have this.” She pulled her tree of life charm from her pocket. She’d added it to a long silver chain. Somehow it felt right to give it to Liz. Maybe it was sentimental or superstitious, but her mom had said it would protect her when she’d given it to Riley, and now Riley needed it to protect her best friend.

  “Oh, wow, really?” Liz had admired the charm since she’d gotten it. “I can’t though. It’s probably expensive.”

  Liz handed it back, but Riley pushed her hand away. “I want you to have it. Wear it, okay? For good luck.”

  “I won’t take it off. I love it. Thank you.” She hugged her and stepped back to put it on. She looked happy for a few moments before her smile faded. “You are coming back, though, right? Like this isn’t a goodbye forever gift is it?”

  “No. I’ll be back. Promise.”

  Liz didn’t look convinced, but she smiled again. “Good, because that wasn’t in the prophecy.”

  Riley laughed. “Don’t mention prophecies to me ever again.”

  Liz sobered. “You’re going to be okay, right? Like you don’t need your best friend to fix things? Maybe a whole weekend of streaming and pizza? ‘Cause we can binge watch together even when you’re in Ireland. Just a text away.”

  “It’s a date. I’ll text you.”

  “K.”

  “K.” Riley took a deep breath. “Don’t forget, wear your necklace.”

  “I won’t.” Liz zipped the charm on the chain back and forth. “Don’t forget to tell me when you land. And send pics. Especially if you see hot Irish guys in kilts, okay?”

  “That’s more a Scottish thing, but sure.”

  Liz attacked her with a hug and stood back. “I’ll see you in a few weeks then.”

  “Bye.” Riley waved and pushed the cart to where her mom was sitting, watching her closely. Without a word, they gathered their stuff and headed to the terminal where Riley’s flight waited.

  Overhead, the com called for passengers to board.

  Her mom checked her watch. “Da’ said his friend would meet us here.”

  “I hope she’s not late.” Riley glanced around, looking for someone who might be Irish and elderly. Her grandpa had insisted that Riley should travel with a friend of his who was returning from the states. She was supposed to have booked the same flight, but they hadn’t heard from her.

  “I hate to send you off like this.” Her mom smoothed Riley’s hair and held her tightly. “But I’ll be there in a week. You’re going to be okay. We’re going to be okay. Grandpa will take good care of you.”

  “Hello there!”

  They turned. A woman dressed in a flowing chiffon dress glided towards them with her arms outstretched. She hugged them both to her before adjusting her glasses and looking at Riley. Riley noticed that the woman’s eyes were different colors. One green, one an almost violet blue.

  “Ah, I’m Emma Aubrey, and you,” she tapped Riley’s arm, “Carter’s girlie you be. Same smile of him. Let’s get on with it then. You girls say your goodbyes, and we’ll be on our way. Good to meet you, mum. She’s in good hands, don’t you fret.”

  Emma Aubrey hugged Riley’s mom again and whispered something that Riley couldn’t hear. Her mom’s face changed slightly and she came over to Riley smiling.

  “Mom?”

  “Have a good trip, honey.” Her mom kissed her cheek and said her dad’s blessing again. Saints be with you until I am again.“I’ll call you, darling. Be safe. Love you.”

  “Love you, Mom. I will.”

  Riley watched her mom walk away with her lanyard swinging from her hand and her shoulders going stiff and high.

  “It’ll be okay, girlie. Emma Aubrey’s got you.”

  Boarding was a whir of activity that left Riley tired and even more anxious than before. Emma left her to get a “wee snack” as she called it, and Riley struggled into her seat alone.

  By the time the plane was about to take off, she had forgotten how to breathe. Not that it was a good idea to inhale considering the mothball man in the seat beside her. She glanced at him. He was ignoring the instructions, focusing instead on pulling crumbs of muffin from his grey beard.

  “Excuse me. Sorry. Hello there,” Emma carried an armload of snacks, mostly chocolate. She pushed herself into their row. “I am sorry, but I had a few things to take care of. You know, business.”

  She sat down and seemed to spread half into Riley’s seat. “Would you be a dear and hold some of these?”

  Riley found herself rising slightly to transfer the mountain of snacks successfully to her lap. Several men turned to stare. The woman waved with her free hand, winking at one gentleman whose grin couldn't possibly stretch any farther across his face. She blew him a kiss and turned her attention back to Riley.

  “Thank you ever so much. Saints reward you. First time away by yourself, huh? I remember the first time I got on one of these birds. Like to tossed my cookies and tangled my flimsies. I actually kissed the ground when I got off in one piece. Sure, and I ate a bit of it, too. Got to stay grounded I told myself, but other ways of traveling are just as wracking on the nerves. From this location to that location, my head fair spins with the lot of it. But, you know, many of these birdies do crash and burn. Pilots are all nuts, they are.”

  “Thanks. That’s comforting.” Her nausea swelled. Why her grandpa thought sending this woman was beyond her.

  “Oh, my dear, do not despair. God’s in Heaven and Emma Aubrey’s not the co-pilot. Relax. Now, I don’t believe Carter told you much about me?”

  “Not really.”

  “He’s a good man, that Carter. We belong to the same club, you might say. He’s very proud of you, girlie.”

  “Thank you,” Riley didn’t know what else to say. Emma looked at her expectantly, but there was nothing she could think of to add. Her mind was blank.

  A stewardess checked their seats, and Riley tensed.

  “It’s okay, dear. Just lean back.” Emma passed her a bag of chocolate-covered raisins. “Tuck these in that little compartment. So, you enjoy art then?”

  Without looking over, Riley nodded. “Yes.”

  “So, you paint, do you? You said you paint.”

  “I didn’t say that.” She stared at the woman’s mismatched eyes, both giving her a once-over, though one was fi
nished before the other. Riley's pulse quickened at the strange floating sensation sweeping toward her.

  Emma winked her blue eye. “Oh, yes, you did. Clear as day. Didn’t she, sir?”

  Emma appealed to the man on Riley’s right who grunted and made a show of hiding behind the newspaper. “See, clear as day. Well, it might have been a mumble, but I heard it. I paint, too. Portraits of my dear cats, three.” She counted on her fingers, “Maeve, Belle, and Serena, my darlings. White as chalk, each one, except Belle. She has one black paw. The only one to have a marking. Very distinguished, my Belle. Loves being the center of attention.” She laughed. “Gets that from me.”

  Riley shook her head a little and remembered what it was like being on the dizzy cups at the fair.

  “You know, first I saw you, I said to myself, what lovely hair you have, a gorgeous auburn. I’m so jealous of that kind of red hair. Wanted it all my life, but it wasn’t to be. Went silver at twenty. Stress, you know, and our genetics.” She sighed and tucked a glossy strand behind her ear before turning to the window, “Ooh, look how the clouds seem to reach out and touch us, Riley.”

  Riley leaned over to look and realized she was buckled to the seat. When had the plane taken off? A moment’s panic battered at her brain before she was hypnotized by deepening blue pushing through the white mass of clouds. The sky darkened slowly, navy receding into black. She wondered how much of each color would give her paint just the right hue to show the fathomless sky morphing from shade to shade.

  Emma patted Riley’s hand. “I’m going to have that snack now. Feel free to have whatever you want.”

  “Hmm? Oh. Thank you.” Riley started to ask Emma for the Dove bar, but Emma was sharing her chocolate-covered peanuts with the mothball man.

  Riley dug Sean’s journal out of her bag. She’d read most of it. Each time she did, her mind was flooded with scenes as if they were her own memories and not those of a boy more than half a century ago. She was the one running through the brilliant green field with the sharp scent of bleeding grasses awakening her mind and the rush of gentle air sending the leaves down like painted snowflakes. She was the one whose laugh echoed in the high-ceilinged rooms, who climbed onto the balcony of the library to visit the gargoyle and read to him from her journal. She was the one alone now with only the company of books and stone.