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Spell of Summoning

Page 23

by Anna Abner

She dropped all four bags and waited. Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and then Holden whipped open the door.

  “You don’t have to knock,” he chided, grabbing her off her feet and crushing her against his chest. He smelled deliciously like freshly cut lumber. “Make yourself at home.”

  He kissed her, his mouth warm and insistent. He kissed her in that fierce way of his, like this might be his last kiss ever.

  “I missed you,” he growled.

  “It’s only been three hours.” But she’d missed him, too.

  “Okay,” Rebecca said, putting distance between them and waving at her luggage, “This is everything I own. Well, everything that’s not in storage. But symbolically it’s everything. I want to be honest with you.” She laughed throatily. “I put my brand-new, never-even-lived-in Raleigh McMansion up for sale. I’m basically unemployed and homeless.”

  Holden folded his arms, the muscles in his chest bunching. “No problem. I own my own place, and I know of a diner in town looking for a new co-owner who loves waiting tables and accounting.”

  “That’s great news,” she said, bouncing on her toes, “because Sparky’s has all kinds of franchise potential. I have big plans for that place. I thought I’d have to talk you into it.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “It’s a what now?”

  Laughing, she said, “I’m a lucky girl.”

  He pulled a matching pair of plane tickets from his back pocket. “Ready to get even luckier?”

  “Have I told you how much I need a vacation?” She clapped her hands together.

  The sound brought Buster padding across the foyer to investigate. When he spotted her, he burst into a run. Becca dropped to one knee and gladly accepted his big, messy, doggy hug.

  “I missed you, Buster.” And she realized she meant it.

  He licked her throat and wagged his tail until his back feet nearly came off the ground.

  After a final pat, she stood and caught sight of a beautiful little girl in Holden’s shadow, the fingers of one hand resting uncertainly over her mouth.

  “Hello, Olive,” Rebecca greeted. “Have I told you yet today that you’re one of my favorite people in the whole world?” Without the little girl’s help, they never would have found and stopped Derek.

  Thanks to her former assistant, Rebecca would spend the rest of her life seeing the spirits of the dead. It wasn’t so bad, though. Casting was the hard part. Holden had promised to teach her the basics, but she wasn’t ready yet. The memory of all that channeled power burning through her was enough to make her wary of necromancy.

  Olive burst into giggles and vanished.

  “Oh, that reminds me.” Becca closed the narrow gap between her and Holden, wrapping her arms around his waist. “There’s one more piece of business we have to take care of before we leave.”

  He checked his watch. “It better be quick. The plane takes off in two hours.”

  * * *

  The doorbell rang, but Jessa must not have heard it, because she was too busy banging around his kitchen looking for a skillet to make scrambled eggs. Which he didn’t even like.

  He opened the door to a tall, blue-eyed man and a yellow-haired woman. He’d learned colors recently in therapy. Red, blue, yellow, black. He couldn’t say the words. His speech hadn’t come back after his accident. But his doctor was optimistic it would return in time.

  “Hello,” the woman said. “How are you?”

  She must not know he was mute.

  The blue-eyed man took the woman’s hand and held it, forming a human wall on the doorstep.

  Jessa grabbed the door out of his hand and pushed around him like he wasn’t even there. In a lot of ways, he felt invisible, though he knew he had substance. The not-real people, on the other hand, had no substance.

  “Rebecca! Holden. It’s so good to see you both.”

  “How is he?” Rebecca asked.

  Jessa spoke for him. “He doesn’t seem to remember much, but we’re not sure, because he hasn’t said a word since the—” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Accident.” Jessa frowned in an exaggerated way. “And he’s relearning a lot of things. Forget about tying his shoes or working the remote or using the stove. Baby steps, you know.”

  The man and the woman nodded. Behind them stood a little black girl with pigtails and bright eyes. But she was one of the not-real people, so he ignored her. Real people got uncomfortable when he paid too much attention to the not-real people.

  “Well, we just wanted to check on him. Call me if anything changes, will you?”

  “In Raleigh?”

  “No, I’m not moving to Raleigh after all. I—”

  Holden squeezed Rebecca’s hand, and she amended, “I’ll be in touch.”

  “Sure.” Jessa smiled, probably not noticing the couple’s body language. Like how they looked at each other. Not with fear. No, what was the word? Worried, that was it. They looked worried.

  “But we’re taking a vacation for the next couple of weeks or so. We might stay longer. It all depends on if we like it there,” Rebecca finished. “Well, take care, Jessa. Take care, Derek.”

  That was his name. Derek Walker. But he didn’t like it. It didn’t feel like his name.

  Rebecca caught his eye. “I’m sorry to hear about your accident.”

  Jessa hugged the woman good-bye, and then she returned to the kitchen to bang more pots around.

  He stood at the door as his three visitors got into a vehicle and slowly backed down his long driveway. Even though he wasn’t supposed to pay attention, he watched the little black girl. He couldn’t remember his favorite band or his parents’ faces or how to brush his teeth by himself, but he thought he just might remember her.

  * * *

  The next day

  The beach at Parrot Cay, Turks and Caicos, was like a scene out of a Bond film—miles and miles of white sand, green palms, and the bluest, clearest water in the world. It might as well be called Paradise on Earth.

  Their private villa sat directly on the beach, their patio opening at the far end to a panoramic view of crashing white-crested waves.

  Holden sipped an icy piña colada from a straw and stretched an arm over his head as he took in not the ocean view, but the woman reclining beside him in a matching pool chair.

  Rebecca poked him playfully in the ribs. “That’s a dainty drink for such a big, tough guy.”

  “I like it.”

  She sipped from a matching glass, but she looked way sexier doing it than he did.

  “It tastes good,” he said.

  She lowered her voice to a husky purr. “You taste good.”

  That voice coupled with those flirty eyes and the tiny black bikini she wore had him setting his glass of pink slush aside. “That sounds like a request.” He stood and scooped her into his arms. “Shall we have a taste test? Because you taste pretty good yourself, darlin’.”

  Her head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck and her small, velvety-soft arms closed around his shoulders.

  “You make me happy,” she whispered against his throat.

  He kicked open the sliding glass door to their master suite. He didn’t put her down, though. Not yet. Because this was important.

  “I was like a ghost when you met me. You brought me back to life, Rebecca. And I love you more than you could possibly know.”

  “Holden,” she said breathlessly, her eyes shining.

  He dipped his head and kissed her the way he’d always kiss her, with every ounce of passion in his soul.

  THE END

  An Excerpt From Spell of Binding (Dark Caster #2)

  Chapter One

  David Wilkes’s bedroom smelled funny. He woke with a pulsing headache to mold, dust, and perfume scents—three odors he never encountered in his new condo. With great care not to jostle his skull, he peeled his cheek off a strange pillow and rolled onto his back in an unfamiliar bed. A white ceiling came into focus, so he hadn’t skydived with a faulty parachute. But something bad had hap
pened. In a flash, it was four years ago, and he was driving his ‘63 Camaro home with his wife, Jordyn, and their son, Ryan, when a motorcycle veered into his path and the side of a Chinese restaurant rose up in front of his windshield.

  “David?”

  He returned, gratefully, to the present and an uncertain female voice. But when he lifted his head to make eye contact, the resulting agony forced him to reconsider.

  “Are you in pain?”

  That was a nurse type of question. Maybe he’d had another accident and ended up in a hospital. Oh, no. Ryan. David didn’t care if he tore his own body to pieces in a high speed collision, but he couldn’t handle the thought of Ryan injured.

  “Where’s my son?” he mumbled. Even speech hurt.

  A small, cold hand palmed his forearm. “Heal,” she said. He extracted himself from her icy grasp, and the uncomfortable freezing sensation faded.

  David took a deep breath, which helped. A few more and the pain receded into the background.

  “I don’t know,” she answered.

  He blinked and found himself staring into a pair of dark, nearly black, eyes. Familiar eyes.

  “Daniela?” What was his son’s former preschool teacher doing here? And where was here?

  This was no hospital room, but a basement, considering the dank odors. Two narrow mattresses lay on the floor, a beat-up recliner between them. A bare concrete floor. And a steel door. The kind of door used in horror movies and prison cells.

  This was not a hospital. And there was no sign of his son.

  “What happened?” he asked. Time felt wonky. Things blended together, some events hazing over. He must have been asleep a long time.

  “Drink some water. You’ll feel better.” She slid a tall plastic bottle across the floor.

  Yes, he was thirsty, like really thirsty. David drank, spilling water down the sides of his mouth, and then stood. But he moved too quickly, got light-headed, and reached for Dani to steady himself.

  “Something’s wrong,” he said, and then groaned.

  She shrank from his touch. “I’m not totally sure what’s going on. I woke up a few minutes ago.”

  Her rejection cleared his head like nothing else could have. For a moment, he’d forgotten how cold she was. “You’re not totally sure.” He tried to shake off her obvious revulsion. As if she hadn’t already made it clear a year ago. “But you have an idea?”

  David remembered leaving his office in city hall. Had he reached Ryan’s day care? Had he made it home? Someone had abducted him by force, obviously, and stuck him here with Dani Ferraro, of all people. But that didn’t make any sense. He wasn’t important enough to abduct. There must be another explanation. Or this was one big goof-up.

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head, and waves of black hair rustled around her narrow shoulders. And just like in the old days, desire zinged through him. She was still graceful and petite and exactly his type. While she had her face turned away, he studied her from her neon pink sneakers to her wild mane of black curls. Yep, still gorgeous. “But it has to do with magic.”

  He would have laughed if he hadn’t been so sick inside. “Right.” So, Dani was going the crazy route. Fine. But he couldn’t afford to sit around describing pink elephants and shouting about alien conspiracies. He had his son to worry about.

  Turning in a slow circle, he stared at the door and then the high window. Where the hell was he, and where was Ryan? The last he remembered, his four-year-old was safe in Auburn in his new day care. But what if…? David’s insides twisted, and he rushed the door, jerking on the handle. It didn’t budge. Sealed tight. As in triple locked, maybe welded shut.

  “Hey!” He pounded on the metal. “Open up!” No response. “You hear me? Open this door!”

  His memories twisted and warped. Last night—was it only last night?—he’d been driving home from his office in Auburn’s city hall on his way to pick up Ryan at New Horizons Day Care, thinking about dinner and construction on the bridge and the new crime drama waiting for him on his TiVo. There was no reason he should be locked in this room except that someone with a strong incentive had put him here.

  And he was trapped with the one woman he’d hoped to never see again. A year had passed, but he hadn’t forgotten when this sexy woman had flicked him away like lint on her sleeve.

  He had to get out of here. Now.

  About the Author

  Anna Abner has been a writer for nearly her entire life, but some of her day jobs have included teaching, childcare, and real estate. She lives in North Carolina with her family and loves hearing from fans. Connect with Anna at www.annaabner.com.

  Spell of Summoning is Anna’s first novel.

  Subscribe to Anna’s monthly newsletter for sneak peeks, updates, and bonus material!

  Other Works by Anna Abner

  Novels

  Spell of Summoning (Dark Caster Series Book One)

  Spell of Binding (Dark Caster Series Book Two)

  Spell of Vanishing (Dark Caster Series Book Three)

  Elixir (Red Plague Trilogy Book One)

  Antidote (Red Plague Trilogy Book Two)

  Panacea (Red Plague Trilogy Book Three)

  The Red Plague Boxed Set

  Short Stories

  The Night Trevor’s Soul Came Loose

  Shadow Cells

  Table of Contents

  Spell of Summoning

  Praise for The Dark Caster Series

  Other Works by Anna Abner

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  An Excerpt From Spell of Binding (Dark Caster #2)

  About the Author

  Other Works by Anna Abner

 

 

 


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