The Shoppe of Spells (The Gatekeeper Series)

by Grey, Shanon

  When Dorian nodded agreement, John walked back to the entrance and pulled his gun holding it at his side. Ian smiled.

  “I’m game when you are,” he said. “Oh, I have an envelope for Meadow in the safe. It’s for her birthday.”

  “I’ll see that she gets it,” Morgan promised.

  “Whatever you do, don’t break contact. This could take a bit longer and require more effort. Please, see this through.”

  Dorian took Morgan’s hand and led her to the area by the ledge. They turned sideways, so they could both see Ian. Dorian leaned forward and lightly kissed Morgan’s mouth. She felt the tingle. Then she felt his arms embrace her, his legs move to either side of hers and he placed his forehead to hers.

  Surges of energy raced between them. Erratic at first, then pulsing, Morgan felt her heart rate change to match the pulse. She could feel the energy, hotter than before, move between them. She tightened her palms against his sides. The current deepened, widened.

  About the room, stones began to glow. At a certain point, the light from the stones began to pulse. The pulses quickened. As Morgan watched, the line on the floor emitted a spark. Beams of lavender light shot up from the floor, through the stone in the center, and fanned out toward the ceiling. The creatures circling Ian’s legs moved back and forth, more and more erratic. Ian was beginning to slump. Morgan started to pull away, to go to him. He saw her and yelled, “No!”

  She held on to Dorian, tears stinging her eyes. The current was moving up and down her spine, then down to the floor and back again. She couldn’t tell if she was energized or drained. She and Dorian stood as one.

  Suddenly, she could see the portal. She stared. Lights of lavender and a rainbow of other colors pulsed in the area where the portal should be. She knew it was open when one of the creatures went through. Then another. Ian, having slumped to the floor, began dragging himself toward the brilliant, flashing pulses of light. The last creature disappeared into the glow. The portal seemed to blink.

  “Please,” Ian begged, staring at the portal opening as though he could see through it to the other side. “Please help me.”

  Morgan tried to break free. Dorian held on tight, clasping her in his arms.

  Ian stretched out one hand and she saw it disappear into the glow. The glow changed color and encircled his wrist. He pulled back, looked at his hand. Thrust it through again. Pushing with his feet, he inched toward the portal. His breathing became labored, he could barely move, yet he refused to remove his hand from the portal.

  Suddenly, one of the creatures appeared back through the portal. Then another. As more came through, Morgan sucked in her breath. What had they done? They watched as a mass of Gulatega encircled Ian, and, by sheer will, inched his form slowly toward the portal.

  Morgan didn’t realize she was holding her breath until the last creature began to move through the portal. The creature reached down and pushed the stone that Ian had placed in the middle through the portal and followed it through. The portal collapsed upon itself. Ian was gone.

  She began to shiver. Dorian tightened his arms around her and held her. Tears poured from her eyes. She took great gulps of air into her lungs. Morgan knew that, had Dorian not been holding her up, she would have collapsed.

  The stones no longer glowed. The only signs of what had transpired were scratches in the dirt. No one would know what had occurred. No one would believe her.

  “You all right?” Dorian leaned back and looked at her. His expression was strained, his brow furrowed.

  She nodded. She could do nothing else.

  John walked into the room and handed Dorian the velvet bag. Silently, they walked around the room collecting the rare stones and placed them in the bag as Morgan leaned weakly against the ledge. John brought the diagram over, folded it and slipped it into the bag. With one last look around, the three of them walked silently out of the cave, the lab, and up the stairs to the main level.

  Dorian sat Morgan in a chair in the hallway and disappeared into the library with John.

  “You okay with us leaving?” Dorian asked.

  “Bask will have the clean-up team here anytime. I’m pretty sure nothing’s going to come through that portal—at least not while I have these.” He held up the bag of stones.

  Dorian clapped him on the back. “Thanks, I owe you one.”

  John smiled. “It all works out. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  Dorian walked back into the hallway and helped her to her feet. As they got to the door, John called. Dorian stopped, took the duffel bag John handed him, smiled at his friend, and led Morgan to the SUV.

  Morgan glanced at the side view mirror as they wound their way down the drive. Looking back, one would never guess that this estate sat so close to the Atlantic Ocean. They turned onto a narrow road. Sand scattered in windblown wave-like patterns across its gravel and asphalt surface. She could see the divided highway ahead with beach cottages and dunes separating it from the ocean. Most of the cottages were boarded up for the winter now, with a few permanent residents the only holdouts.

  Dorian turned onto the divided highway and drove in silence. Morgan let her head fall back against the seat and closed her eyes. She opened them again. She kept seeing Ian disappearing through the portal and she wasn’t sure she was ready to handle that imagery yet.

  Dorian swung into a fast food drive-thru, placed a double order, and retrieved it while she watched in silence.

  “I bet you don’t have any idea of when you ate last.” He handed the bag to her and set the drinks in the cup holders in the console.

  The smell of hot fries escaped the bag and she sniffed longingly.

  “Go ahead,” he encouraged.

  Morgan slipped her hand into the bag and pulled out a container of fries. Her favorite kind—fresh and piping hot. The tang of salt and heat touched her tongue and she reached for another. She held out the carton in offering. Dorian grabbed a few, cursed when they burned his fingers and sucked in air around the hot grease he’d just popped in his mouth. She smiled and nibbled on another, closing her eyes in appreciation of the distraction.

  He turned down a short road and parked the vehicle at the end, overlooking the ocean, now cloaked in night. Morgan could make out the white of the waves’ crests as they raced toward shore. Even with the windows up, she could hear the sound of the ocean.

  Dorian doused the lights and reached for the bag of food. He pulled out his burger and set another carton of fries on the dash. They ate listening to the sound of the waves.

  “Want to take a walk?” he asked as he shoved wrappers back into the bag and tossed it behind the seat.

  “Sure.” She was feeling better. The food helped. Maybe a walk along the sand would help her regain perspective. The ocean always seemed to give her strength.

  Dorian took her hand as they stepped down onto the sand. The waves sounded louder although they weren’t breaking very high. The blackness of the ocean pulled at her, its unknown beckoning. They walked down to where the water had dampened the sand, giving them a firmer path. They turned and headed toward the distant lights of a pier. Morgan crossed her arms over her midriff as a chill breeze ruffled her hair. Dorian threw his arm around her and pulled her close, slowing to adjust his gait to hers.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She nodded, watching the twinkle of the sand in the dark and wondered if he could see its sparkle. She turned and looked up at his strong profile, the unshaven line of his jaw, the unruly curl of his hair. He turned and looked down at her, his eyes clear in the night.

  They stopped. He turned her toward him and pulled her gently against his body, dipping his head down to kiss her lightly on the lips. The heat of his mouth warmed hers and she parted her lips, welcoming his exploration. Her arms moved to his chest and up around his neck. He pulled her tighter and deepened the kiss. She felt the comfort of the current moving between them, giving and taking, advancing and retreating, as the water kissed the shore.
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  As he lifted his head, he kissed her temple. Morgan looked down. They were encircled by the perimeter of sparkling sand, glittering in the night.

  “Can you see that?”

  He looked down. “Yes.”

  “I’m glad. I never know what things only I can see.”

  “If it’s within a spectrum I can perceive, I can see it. Probably not as vividly as you, but I see it. “Which means,” he lightly kissed her and turned to walk back in the direction they had come, “others can see it as well.”

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” She laughed softly.

  She felt much better. Energized. As she always did when they connected. Even a kiss set up a connection between them.

  “Do you want to go back to your parents tonight?”

  “It’ll be late. I don’t want to bother them. I should call them, however.”

  “Bask already did that. I’m sorry; I forgot to tell you. I knew you’d want them to know you were okay.”

  “Then let’s go to my apartment,” she said, then added, “If you don’t mind?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Chapter Twenty

  It felt like years since Morgan had put her key into the lock of her apartment. Suddenly, self-conscious about what Dorian would think, her hand trembled as she pushed open the door. A soft mewl greeted her. Everything fell away as she stepped in and watched Mrs. T stretch out a paw and roll over on her side on top of the hutch.

  “Hey there, gorgeous,” she called softly and took the paw in her fingers. Mrs. T splayed out her paw for a mini massage. They must have brought Mrs. T over in the afternoon as a surprise. When the cat saw Dorian she flipped back over, withdrew her paw and tucked them, ladylike, under her ruff, while tilting her head to inspect the newcomer.

  Dorian reached up, let her sniff his fingers and, laughed when she rubbed the side of her mouth across his fingers, lightly scrapping a tooth against his skin.

  “She’s giving you a subtle hint who’s boss,” Morgan informed him and walked into the room. She looked around. She’d forgotten how small it was.

  “It’s you,” Dorian said. He inhaled the basil and citrus scents he remembered from his first meeting with Morgan. She had become so infused with the lavender that pervaded the shop and cottage, that he’d almost forgotten that fresh scent that was her.

  Morgan walked over to the table in the kitchen alcove. A basket with fruit, bread, cheese and a bottle of wine sat in the middle, with a note leaning against it.

  We thought you might be hungry. There’s some ham and turkey in the fridge. Call us tomorrow. We love you, Mom and Dad (p.s. Dorian’s quite charming—Mom)

  When she turned to Dorian, she was smiling. “It’s from my folks. I didn’t know you met them.”

  “Wow. I forgot to tell you that, too. Yes, I went to see them. I like them a lot. Your Mom fed me and put me to bed. Your Dad pretty much inspected me.”

  “My mother put you to bed?”

  “Yes. After giving me some sort of suggestion or psychic push or something. That’s when I first saw you. Oh, and they sent the clothes.”

  Morgan hadn’t thought about the fact that Dorian had brought her clothes or where they had come from. She’d just accepted that they were there. It showed what a jumbled mess her mind had been in earlier. She shook he head. It would take a while to sort out her thoughts.

  “Well, now they’ve sent food.”

  Dorian walked over to the patio doors, flipped on the light and looked out. Someone had put covers over the herb plants to protect them from the chill. Probably her parents. Further evidence of the little things they did for her. Their caring reminded him a great deal of the way Mel and Thom went about their lives, caring for him and others. God, he missed them.

  He turned back to the room. Morgan stood near the table, watching him, a frown on her face. He moved toward her. She took a step back. He stopped. He studied her expression and saw she was puzzling over something. He took another step and stopped.

  A smile broke across her lips and Morgan moved forward until she was in front of him. She lifted her hand, slipped it around the back of his neck and pulled him down, fitting her slightly parted lips to his. She eased her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. His hands moved to her waist and moved upward until his thumbs rested on the side of her breast, making small circles. She could feel her nipples harden, anticipating his touch. She backed away, took his hand in hers, and led him to the bedroom.

  Morgan had never been very aggressive sexually. She had never wanted any man quite like she wanted this one. Even without the current flowing between them, her body hummed with need when she was around him.

  She closed the bedroom door and touched the lamp on the bedside table. A small glow emanated from the bottom of the lamp. She saw his eyes focus on the lamp. “A gift from a friend of my mom’s. It’s a touch lamp. I’ve had it since I was a girl. I’m sure she didn’t have this in mind when she gave it to me.” As she spoke, she began slowly pushing up his tee shirt. She leaned forward and pressed her mouth to the muscles of his midriff, using her tongue until she encircled his hardening nipple. Her fingers splayed and moved around his side to his back, gently massaging his muscles.

  In one swift motion, he pulled the shirt over his head. In another motion, he pulled hers up and off her, letting her hair fall down her back and across her breasts. He ran his fingers along the scalloped edges of her bra, feeling her breasts swell in anticipation. He slipped his hand around and, in an instant, the bra lay at her feet. He put his hands under her breast, gently cupping them, while his thumbs circled her nipples. She moaned and his mouth took hers.

  It seemed to be a race to free themselves of all traces of clothing until they were lying facing one another on the bed. He pushed her on her back and starting at her ear, used mouth and tongue to explore her body. His mouth trailed fiery kisses, his hands explored and gently kneaded muscle and skin. He inched his way down her body until he pushed her legs apart, and let his fingers slowly trail heat through her moistened curls. Where his fingers explored, his tongue followed, until she writhed with pent-up passion. Sensing her reach toward satisfaction, he eased back, slowing the pace.

  In one quick move, she pushed him back until he fell across the bed. Quickly, she shifted positions and used her tongue to lick his jaw and down his neck, while her hands followed the inside of his arms to his sides. She laved his nipples and followed the dusting of hair down his abdomen. When her mouth took him, he grabbed the sheets in sweet agony. His whole body went rigid.

  She looked up and watched his eyes darken. Suddenly, his hands were on her sides and he was lifting her, pulling her up. Her legs straddled his hips and she came down slowly on his shaft, letting her heat engulf him. He pulled her head down and took her mouth, their tastes mingling. As he deepened the kiss, he started a rocking rhythm that she quickly picked up. His hands cupped her breasts and teased her nipples. She leaned back and rode him. The air around them sizzled and sparked. Energy coursed back and forth between them, sensitizing their flesh. Tension built and when their climax came, their moans were as entwined as their bodies. Morgan collapsed on top of him.

  A moment later, Morgan stirred to heated kisses on her neck. She stretched. Without saying a word, he pulled her up and led her to her bathroom. Fitting both of them into her small shower proved to be a challenge, which they accomplished, even if it meant mopping up the floor when they finally stepped out, sated and clean.

  They munched on bread, cheese, wine and each other, making love one more time before falling asleep. By the time Morgan’s eyes closed for the last time, she was wrapped in the warmth of his arms, safe and content.

  She woke with his hardness pressing into the soft flesh of her rear, tempting her to wiggle ever so slightly. He responded by shifting and sliding into her warm wetness from behind, giving him full access to her breasts and the tender flesh between her legs. Fully sated once more, she snuggled into his arms.

&n
bsp; Dorian moved slightly. She rolled onto her back. He raised up on this arm and looked into her eyes. “You are so beautiful.” He lifted a lock of red curl and laid it gently across her breast. “I love you.”

  Her breath caught.

  He smiled, creases forming at the corner of his eyes. “What? You didn’t know?”

  She smiled back at him. “I do now.”

  She was quiet for a moment, then spoke, her voice soft, “I don’t know how it happened so fast, but I love you too.”

  “Destiny,” he said, a smile lifting the side of his mouth.

  His look turned serious. “We are paired. You are my mate, as I am yours. That’s fate. Do me the honor of becoming my wife. That’s your choice.” He spoke softly, his voice deep.

  She tried but couldn’t seem to swallow. It took a moment for what he’d said to sink in.

  He brushed the hair away from her face, studying the emerald eyes he loved. He waited.

  She studied his face, trying to read his thoughts.

  Finally, he spoke, “I know it’s quick. I understand if—”

  “Yes,” she interrupted him.

  He stopped, a smile spread across his face. His eyes looked as though they twinkled. “You sure?”

  “Are you?”

  “I’ve never been more sure.”

  She answered him with a kiss. A kiss in which she put all the feelings she felt in her heart and soul. He was her mate. There was no other.

  “I would like to ask your parents, if I might. I understand it’s a formality because I’d marry you if the entire world were against it. But, they have been through a lot and they love you so much.”

  Morgan threw her arms around him. “Thank you. That would mean the world to me.”

  The door rattled and they looked at the door. A scratching sound started slowly and increased in urgency. “I think Mrs. T would like some breakfast. Or lunch,” she amended when she glanced at the clock.