by Terra Wolf
Ally wants all her characters to have a happily ever after, but sometimes the long journey to get there is the best part!
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Fated Night
Part I
Fated Night
Spells of Fate Book 1
Copyright
Spells of Night Book One: Fated Night
Published By Ally Summers
Copyright © 2015 Ally Summers
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places or events are entirely the work of the author. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or places is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Please purchase only authorized editions and do not participate in piracy of copyrighted materials.
Cover art by Cover Up Designs
Chapter One
The mixture of cool rain and warm blood washed down my cheekbone. It was pointless, but I wiped the stream from my eyes and massaged my throbbing temple. Keep going, Ivy; keep going.
As I hurdled each step, the pace of the footsteps tracking me seemed to cut the distance between us. My chest hurt as I tried to catch each breath and push myself into a faster pace. He was close and I didn’t know if I could make it to the seam before he stopped me. A quick diversion might help, but that was how I got into this mess. I had to do something. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t make it back, and this was not the place I wanted to get stuck.
The sidewalks and brownstone steps blurred past as I searched for a place to hide. I felt my body lunge forward and shudder with a thud. I hit the pavement, and my already scraped face smacked into the stones. My lungs froze from the impact. My throat clamped shut. I tried to pry myself up, clawing at the cracks in the sidewalk. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.
In that moment, I realized I could be caught. How could I have been so careless to jeopardize everything?
I jumped forward in the bed, clutching the sheet to my chest. A dream. It was a dream.
“Illuminate,” I whispered, holding my hand forward.
The soft orb formed above my palm. It’s light bounced around the hotel room. I steadied my breath. It was only a dream. But it wasn’t the first time it had awakened me. I looked at the clock. It was nearly three.
“Extinguish,” I called to the light, watching it fade to remnants of glitter. I sank into the pillow, pulling the sheet to my chin.
I didn’t know what the dream meant. I didn’t know what triggered it or why I kept having it. I turned on my side, curling my knees upward.
The room was cold, but the chill shaking me had rooted under my skin. Something or someone had been chasing me. I shuddered, knowing it would be nearly impossible to fall asleep after a nightmare.
I tried to focus on tomorrow. I needed a distraction from the feel of rain on my face and the taste of blood on my lips. I reminded myself I was here for a story. I needed a glitzy set of Vegas characters I could take back for my next book.
I walked through how I would travel, keeping my mind pointed on performing the spell I would need. How I would time spell. I pictured the Starlight Casino and Resort.
The casino was a labyrinth, but I discovered a service corridor that didn’t have cameras. I would be able to start the spell and travel from there.
My body began to feel heavy again. The shaking had stopped. I pictured the blackjack tables and the doorway where I would make the seam. My eyes relaxed.
There was a reason I had chosen the Starlight. It was part of old Vegas. I would find my story here. I had to. My fingers let go of the sheet as sleep fell over me. Tomorrow I would find my story. Tonight I would forget the dream.
Chapter Two
Two Years Later, Sullen’s Grove
I gripped my coffee mug between my palms, pulling my knees to my chest. Cooper was curled in a ball of massive yellow fur under my desk. I stared at the blank screen on my laptop. Nothing was happening. Nothing. I couldn’t think of a single word.
It had been six weeks since the Vegas Star premier. Six full weeks. I sighed.
The high of writing the screenplay and spending time in New York to promote the film had finally faded. I was left with a crumpled ball gown in my closet and writer’s block. Ugh.
Cooper whimpered and laid his head in my lap. Oh, those sad, brown doggy eyes got me every time.
“You know, you’re right, Coop. We need to get out of here and go for a walk.”
I grabbed his leash and we hit the sidewalk in front of my bungalow. His nose had picked up the trail of something highly potent in his world, probably a cat. I began to jog after him.
I waved at one of my neighbors and smiled. Things seemed different since the movie premiere. People who never talked to me before, were suddenly eager to strike up a conversation. I didn’t expect the level of attention I received. My first book didn’t have this kind of effect.
My phone rang a few times before I glanced down to see Jack’s name on the screen. I inhaled, tried to calm the quick rush of adrenaline, and answered as sweetly as possible.
“Hey, Jack, I’m out with Cooper. Can I give you a call back later?”
Despite how disastrous it would be to be involved with my editor, I had fought a crush on Jack Coleman for two years. He was the one person I had completely surrendered to creatively, and I was in deeper than I wanted to admit. It was inconvenient and hopeless.
The only thing saving me from ruining the best thing that had happened to my writing, was Jack’s complete lack of interest in me.
The last time I asked him to meet me for coffee to talk about new storylines, he barked at me and told me to talk to his assistant about scheduling an office meeting instead.
I couldn’t conjure up a more perfect image of Mr. Tall Dark and Ruggedly Handsome if such a spell existed. Jack easily stood over six feet tall, had a square jawline, with the slightest dimple in his chin, dark brown eyes, and sun-tinted brown hair that sometimes was overdue for a haircut. He wore his five o’clock shadow well and looked edible in every button-up shirt he wore to the office.
He sometimes gave me this look when he read something of mine. It was the kind of look that spoke volumes. The kind that said he got my writing.
If it wasn’t for the fact that revealing my identity was completely out of the question, I might have tried using a little magic. But I couldn’t take the chance.
I wasn’t expecting the reaction I got on the other end of the call. His response jolted me.
“It’s important. Can you meet me in fifteen minutes, sooner if you can? It can’t wait.” I heard him exhale.
“Sure, sure. I’ll be at the office in fifteen.” I hoped that was quick enough for him. He seemed serious.
I frowned at Cooper, knowing it would be awhile before we’d reschedule our walk. Cooper’s nose was still on the trail and was not ready to be dissuaded from his pursuit of that cat.
“I don’t want to meet at the office. Can you come to my place? It’s on the corner of Market and Corinth Avenue. It’s a brick ranch—one story, 1207 Cor—”
I interrupted, “Oh yeah, I know where it is.”
I smacked my forehead, cringing at how I had let that slip.
“Um.” An awkward silence followed. “Just get over here and I’ll explain or I’m at least hoping you will.” He hung up and I looked down at the dark screen in my hand.
The entire call was weird. He always wanted to meet in the office and usually scheduled our meetings with extensive advanced planning. For a moment, I let myself think that maybe
this wasn’t a meeting about publishing dates or about pressure from the board for new material. Maybe it was more personal.
Although as quickly as it skipped in, I pushed the idea right back out. This was Jack, and he barely smiled at me—of course it was business-related.
I looked at my running shoes, and decided it wasn’t a bad idea to change out of my yoga pants. I could spare five minutes for a wardrobe switch and make it to his house on time.
I corralled Cooper in the house and made a dash for my closet. For the most part, I reveled in how normal I could be and blend into the world like a regular girl, but there were times when magic was necessary for a quick fashion crisis. This was most definitely one of those times.
A quick glance over my shoulder in the mirror told me I’d found the right blend of cute, casual, and sexy for an impromptu meeting with my off-limits boss. I loved my glamour spell. I grabbed my keys off the hook and rushed to meet Jack.
He lived in an older part of town. I envisioned the houses here were once full of life. Summers filled with children dashing through yard sprinklers. Christmas wreaths hung on every door during the holidays. Neighbors waving at each other on their sunset strolls down the sidewalk.
The problem with the vision was that all of it had happened thirty years ago, and now the houses were unkempt, lonely, and quiet.
I pulled up behind Jack’s Jeep, noticing fishing poles hanging out of the back window. I didn’t know much about what he did when he wasn’t working at the office or hounding me for rewrites, but I guessed he spent a lot of time outside.
Even in cold winter months, he still looked tan and he was always in shape. During our meetings, I couldn’t help but notice how his buttoned-up shirts lightly clung to his arms. Obviously, the man worked out. I waited for the song to fade out on the radio before I pulled the keys from the ignition.
The house looked dark and the shutters were closed. If he hadn’t just asked for this meeting, I would guess Jack wasn’t home.
It was the beginning of spring in Sullen’s Grove, but chilly winter evenings were hesitant to retreat. Smoke curled from the chimney. I straightened my cream-colored jacket and pulled the low V-neckline of my T-shirt down so it was at just the right dip. I was especially pleased I had bought these leather boots as I swung my legs out of the car and hit the gravel. My jeans were the right amount of snug, I thought, as I pushed my phone into my back pocket.
I couldn’t help it. I wanted Jack to notice something about me other than my writing. After the heartbreak I had been through, being with a man who didn’t know anything about shifter worlds or fated gifts was exactly what I needed.
It was hard to imagine trusting someone again. My heart had been shattered. Ripped in half. Abandoned. But Jack was all the things my ex wasn’t. He was steady and certain. He was a normal guy. A regular guy. And if he would just open his damn eyes, I knew we could have fun together.
I scanned the desolate street again. Before I could ring the doorbell, the door jerked open. An arm to reach toward the porch, grabbed hold, and pulled me into a dark hallway.
“Ouch,” I squealed. “What the hell?”
As my eyes adjusted to the lack of light, my nose inhaled an aroma mixed with the faint scent of leather, bourbon, and Jack’s cologne. My mind flashed forward to what it would be like to spend time in this house with Jack and to smell that wonderful Jack-smell every day, but I snapped-to in a blink when I heard his voice.
His hand gripped around my upper arm, cutting off the circulation from my shoulder. My heart raced and my breath quickened as he leaned closer. I searched his eyes for an explanation, but all I saw was fear.
“Ivy, I need to know who you are. It’s time you tell me the truth.”
Chapter Three
I refused to blink or to turn from his radiating glare. Maybe it was the crispness in his voice, or the death grip he had on my arm, but my legs locked in rebellion.
“What is going on?” I asked.
I tried to wriggle from his hold, he pulled me toward the living room. If the circumstances had been anything but this, I would have oohed and awed over the book-covered walls and the stone-stacked fireplace.
I had imagined so many times what the inside of Jack’s house would look like. There was no doubt this wasn’t playing out like my daydreams.
He pointed to the coffee table. “That’s what is going on.”
I stared blankly at the manila envelope. He wasn’t making any sense.
“You need to tell me why I received this package today. Who are you?” His tone had softened, but his eyes had not. He released my arm.
I massaged my arm where his hand had been. I had never seen him like this.
“Why are you acting like this? Did we get some bad press about Vegas Star?”
I tried to remember if I said something I shouldn’t have in one of my interviews. But public relations wasn’t Jack’s territory. Gina covered that for Raven Publishing. What was going on?
“Or does it have something to do with the new book? Because if that’s it, you can tell everyone I’m working on it. Really, I’m trying to put something together. It’s only been a few weeks, and I can’t turn out books like a news article. It takes time. You know that.” I kept rambling, not knowing what was happening.
Unsure if I should sit or stand, I opted to sit, hoping it would lessen my fidgeting. I nestled myself in the closest chair and looked at my riding boots. I suddenly felt silly for worrying about impressing Jack with a new outfit.
“What is in that envelope that’s so serious we couldn’t meet at the office?” I huffed.
“It’s about you.” His five o’clock shadow was dark enough to cover the soft cleft on his chin. It gave him a simultaneous rough and sexy look.
“Me?” My stomach churned. “May I?”
I didn’t wait for his answer as I reached across the coffee table for the package. I tried to meet his gaze, but he had already turned toward the fire. He pushed the sleeves on his arms. He couldn’t stay still.
At first glance, it looked like a regular query letter with all of the markings of a business correspondence, only handwritten and not typed. Jack probably got hundreds of these a week and if Ann, his assistant, was doing her job, he should only see a handful of them.
Ann sat directly outside of Jack’s office and fielded all of his calls, impromptu drop-ins, and sorted a mountain of snail mail. It was rare I stopped by the office when she wasn’t dropping letter after letter into the black basket labeled return.
She had a way of matter-of-factly picking up each letter, skimming the contents, and then immediately depositing it into one of the two baskets. She adjusted her glasses, and took a sip of coffee before picking up the next request.
I watched her letter-sorting routine on each visit to Jack’s office with curiosity. My biggest fear as a writer had been that my work would end up in the dreaded return pile. On the days when I sat outside of Jack’s office watching Ann, I felt bits of guilt and sadness for the writers who took the chance to submit their work, not knowing ultimately it was up to Ann to sort their mail into either read or return.
I wondered how many manuscripts had been sent back unopened, never to have Jack’s guidance or direction. He had done so much with my work. He truly understood how I wrote and what I was trying to say.
I looked at the outside of the envelope and noticed it was addressed to Jack’s home address and not to the Raven Publishing offices. I unfolded the letter.
The paper was thick and the edges of the words bled onto the page. I held it between my fingers, but as I scanned the sentences I struggled to keep the page from shaking in my hand.
My shoulders shuddered when I read the last line. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t possible. No.
Chapter Four
A wave of nausea surged through my stomach as I jumped from the chair, dropping the letter to the floor. I raced for the door. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I reached for the handle, b
ut Jack was already between the exit and me.
His hand slammed into the top of the door, pressing it closed.
“No. You’re not leaving until you tell me what’s going on. I’m a part of whatever is happening and you need to fill me in. Tell me what in the hell this means.”
His deep voice filled my ears. I felt his breath on the back of my neck. It was rapid and hot. He spun me around, gripping my shoulders firmly.
The door was rough against my back, but Jack seemed determined to hold me in place. We had never been this close before—in each other’s space—inhaling the same heavy breaths. My eyes darted to his, but the only emotion I recognized from the pools of deep brown was anger.
I thought about using magic to freeze him or extinguish what little lights were left on in the house, but that would be catastrophic. I didn’t have the kind of magic to erase it from his thoughts or memories if he saw me. I had never wanted my cousin’s Eraser gift more. I had to face this on my own.
He towered over me and I could feel the strength in his arms. They were the only reason I was standing at this point. My knees wobbled.
“You’re not talking, Ivy.”
“Ok. Ok.” I searched his face for a semblance of pity or sympathy, anything but the doubt and irritation staring at me.
“I’ll tell you what I can, but promise me you’ll listen, and you won’t judge.” My chest tightened.
“Good, because I’m about five minutes away from calling the police.”
His eyes shot to the phone sticking from his front pocket, but I could sense his hesitation to use it. He wanted answers. Answers only I could give him.
“No, no, don’t do that. Let’s figure this out. Let me tell you what I know about Vegas Star.” My voice cracked. I bit hard on my lip to stop the tears. I wasn’t going to break down in front of Jack.