Spellbound
A Second Chance Paranormal Romance
© 2017 Laura Greenwood
All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise – without prior written permission of the published, except as provided by United States of America copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher at “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address; [email protected].
Visit Laura Greenwood’s website at:
www.authorlauragreenwood.co.uk
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Cover Design by Laura Moyer of thebookmachine.com
Spellbound is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Other Books by Laura Greenwood
Paranormal Council (Paranormal Romance)
The Dryad’s Pawprint (available in In the Shadows)
The Vixen’s Bark
The Necromancer’s Prey
The Vampire’s Bite
Paranormal Council Standalones
Spellbound
His Lost Bear (Newsletter Serial)
Sci-Fi Romance Standalone
Moonrise
The Humra (Short Story)
Paranormal Standalone
By Any Other Name: A Retelling of Romeo and Juliet
Fantasy Romance Standalones
Hidden Smoke
Assassin Princess (coming soon!)
Alventia Series (Fantasy)
Betrayed (Mailing List Exclusive)
Awakening
Cloaked
Curtain Call (Sweet NA Romance)
What Lies Beneath the Mask
You Know I Do
Anthologies
Touched by Shadow, Caressed by Light
The Newcomer: Twelve Sci-Fi Short Stories
Christmas in Love
Other Books by Laura Greenwood
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Author’s Note
About the Author
Chapter 1
Eliza walked through the door, grateful to be home after a horrendous day at work. She’d graduated from university the year before, and had been lucky enough to get an entry level marketing job for a well-known clothing brand. And she hated it. A lot of her job was tedious, but she hadn’t known what she wanted to do when she finished her degree, so had settled on what she was best at.
She waved her hand towards the kitchen, a bright blue spark leaving her fingertips, animating a chopping board and knife. The day her Mum had taught her to use her magic for cooking, had been one of the best of her life. Before that, she’d been made to cook by hand, which just made using magic all the better. She’d known she was a witch since she was a little girl, but her powers hadn’t manifested until she reached eighteen. For some reason, witches either developed magic while they were still toddlers, or when they reached adulthood. At first, Eliza had resented being one of the late bloomers, but seeing the havoc her younger sister, Camille, had caused, she’d finally decided that it was a blessing in disguise.
A chirping noise came from behind her, and a small smile crossed Eliza’s face.
“Hey, Bluebird,” she crooned at her familiar. All witches had one, though very few would ever be seen by other people. Bluebird had appeared to her after she’d been left alone on her eighteenth birthday, thankfully after she’d got a basic grip on her new powers. Much like Eliza’s normal magic, Bluebird was made of blue sparks, and yet, she didn’t seem to be controllable in the same way. Bluebird appeared when she wanted to, and did what she wanted to, making her more like a low maintenance pet than magic.
Eliza poured herself a glass of white wine, having learnt from experience that there were a few things that magic couldn’t, and shouldn’t, take care of. There’d been too many liquid related accidents for her to trust her powers with pouring.
Eliza jumped at the sound of her phone ringing, and she made the mistake of answering before checking who it was; not that it would really matter. The only people who were likely to call her were her parents, or her eighteen-year-old sister.
“Hello,” she said, taking a sip of wine.
“Hi Liz,” a deep male voice sounded at the end of the line.
“Todd,” she greeted. Eliza sighed inwardly, dreading the conversation to come. She wouldn’t deny that she’d been attracted to Todd the first time they’d met. He was tall, dark and handsome personified, and just her type. It’d been her type ever since her first boyfriend in high school. It didn’t hurt that he had one of those deep and sexy as sin voices either.
The only problem with Todd was that she’d become bored. It seemed to happen a lot with the men she dated, not that there had been many of them. At first, she’d be totally into them, especially if they reminded her of Ethan. Unfortunately, that soon seemed to wear off. Often even before they had sex.
“You free tomorrow night?” He asked.
“I’m not sure, I’ll have to check.” She cringed at the fact she hadn’t just told him no, but she hated telling men she wasn’t interested. A quick glance at her dinner told her it was almost time to put it in the oven; another job that she’d discovered was better done without magic. Unfortunately, the distraction didn’t take long enough for Eliza’s liking.
“Well?” Or it took too long, according to Todd.
“I’m sorry Todd, I promised Camille I’d go ice skating with her.” She crossed her fingers, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to sense a lie. Really, she shouldn’t be worrying about that, but it was habit from growing up in a paranormal household.
A lot of paranormals were able to sense lies, especially if they were told by someone close to them. Which meant that she was probably safe from plain old human Todd.
“Seriously? Can’t you cancel?” The whine in his voice made Eliza grit her teeth. He was fast becoming as annoying as he was boring. It was definitely time for her to get rid of him for good. Heartless though that may be.
“No, I can’t. Bye, Todd.” She hung up without waiting for a reply, and hoped that he got the message. They’d only been on three dates, which was two more than Eliza should have gone on. She’d known that he wasn’t the one for her after the first date. Though why she’d ever thought that was the case was beyond her. She was a witch. Her ‘one’ was most likely a paranormal being of some kind.
Sadness flowed through her, just like it did every other time she thought about her ‘one’. Somehow, she’d got through her string of boring men without losing her romantic streak, and there was still a part of her that mourned the loss of her high school boyfriend. But like the others, Ethan had been just human, and her family moving away had been a blessing in disguise.
She’d been the one to break it off between them, and she’d done so with tears streaming down her face and her heart breaking. She’d loved him then, and it had been difficult to do, even if her Mum had tried to persuade her that she’d get over the adolescent infatuation with time. Eliza wasn’t convinced. There was still a part of her that loved him, and probably always would. After all, there was a rea
son that all the men since Ethan looked just like him.
She tried to change the direction of her thoughts, otherwise she’d just end up feeling worse when she remembered that she’d never see him ever again. Or that Ethan had just been human, and that there wouldn’t have been any future for them anyway. It always hurt to think about that, and she suspected that she’d never truly get over him. Whatever that meant for her future. Maybe she was one of those people that would end up alone forever. She probably deserved it after what she’d done to him.
Chapter 2
Ethan Sanders hated Mondays. Though he did wonder if there was anyone that actually liked them. If he was completely honest though, he hated every day, and had done ever since the love of his life had moved away. It wasn’t a very manly thing to admit, but when it came to Eliza, he didn’t care; nor had he ever. Even if she wasn’t a witch, like he was, there was just something about her. Everything, from her long dark hair, to her no-nonsense attitude was perfect to him. She’d always been sure of who she was, and no one had been able to persuade her differently. He’d always admired that about her.
The day that Eliza had ended it between them was branded on his mind, no matter what he did. Even the nights getting drunker than he’d ever thought possible hadn’t helped. The night she’d broken it off, she’d been visibly upset, and had even gone as far as saying she didn’t want them to end. He’d tried his absolute best to persuade her they could still be together; he’d been sure that long-distance would work. In hindsight, he knew that he’d been wrong. Not that he doubted Eliza was meant to be his; he was still certain about that despite the heartbreak. Rather, he doubted either of them would have been happy with a long-distance relationship. At least this way he’d had some semblance of his own life, even if he’d never found anyone to replace her. He doubted he ever would.
He took a sip from his coffee, only to almost spit it out. It seemed that he’d been too engrossed in his graphic design project, and had let it go cold. He glanced around the office to make sure that no one else was around, before cupping his hands around the mug and sending his power into it. Red sparks crackled, and the coffee began to steam again. Ethan smiled to himself; sometimes being a witch had its advantages.
He turned back to his screen, concentrating on the design he was working on. The brief had been frustratingly exact on what the clothing company wanted. On the one hand, he supposed it made his life easier to have such a clear vision to work to. On the other, it was frustrating to have such a precise set of rules and not let his own creative flair have a say. A nudge came at his hand, and he looked down, shocked to find his familiar, Flame, sat there and pushing his head against Ethan’s skin. The magic sparks he was made of tickled a little, but Ethan was used to them and they didn’t bother him.
Ethan still found it odd that Flame was a bird. From the hints his family had given him over the years, most of them had feline familiars. And familiars tended to run in families. Yet, on his eighteenth birthday, despite it all, up had popped the little bird made of red sparks. Not even his family knew that his familiar was different. Ethan had never outright lied to them about it, but neither had he told them. Even if he wasn’t sure what it was, there would be a reason for Flame’s appearance. One day, maybe he’d even discover what it was.
“Hey, buddy. What’re you doing here? You’ll be seen if you’re not careful.” To most people, it would probably seem odd that he was talking to what was essentially a collection of magical sparks, but as far as he could tell, it was actually a fairly normal thing for witches to do. Though he’d never actually seen another witch with their familiar to know that for sure. The secrecy surrounding such an important part of witch culture was perplexing at times. Ethan tried not to think about it too much, or he’d invariably end up with a headache.
Flame nudged his hand again, before pointing his beak towards the right-hand side of Ethan’s computer screen. Ethan glanced over and was surprised to find that it had already gone eleven, meaning he’d been here at least four hours longer than everyone else. He jumped to his feet, careful not to spill his almost empty coffee in the process. Normally it didn’t matter how late he worked, it wasn’t like there was anyone waiting for him at home, and his hours were logged via his computer anyway, so there was no risk of being underpaid. But tomorrow was different. He had a meeting with the client he was working for, and while they’d probably just send some poor soul who was too far down the pecking order to be able to say no, Ethan still wanted to be alert for it.
Plus, there was something in his gut telling him that tomorrow’s meeting was even more important than it should be. He didn’t actually have any precognitive powers, though he’d heard that some witches did. That kind of thing also tended to run in families. But, over the years, he’d learnt to trust his gut instinct, and if it was telling him that tomorrow was going to be important, then going home and having a fairly decent night’s sleep was probably the best idea.
Chapter 3
Eliza had a feeling about today, and while she didn’t know where the feeling had come from, she spent extra time getting ready all the same. She even styled her hair, something that she barely ever did, even if it would only take a wave of her hand to do. It wasn’t that she didn’t like to look good, but more that she figured that there were more important things in life.
Her hair now fell in natural looking waves, much like her every day look, but a little sleeker, and it completed the look she’d gone for. Her electric blue satin shirt brought out her blue eyes, and the pencil skirt suit she’d teamed it with was the perfect combination of business and sexy, providing the confidence boost she needed. She still wasn’t sure what she needed that confidence for, but at least it would help her to get through the meeting she had today.
It’d been foisted on her by her superiors, and considering her low-down position within the company, she hadn’t been able to avoid being the one to go. It wasn’t likely that she’d have said no anyway, she wasn’t confrontational enough for that.
The trip to the office took a mere fifteen minutes, during which, butterflies had made themselves at home in her stomach. She wanted to scream at them, and tell them to get lost. It was just a normal day at work, and the meeting was a simple check up to see that the graphic design company was doing what they should be, nothing more. She tried to give herself a talking to, and was grateful that she was alone in the car, or else she’d end up looking crazy. Not that was a new thing, she talked to herself all the time. She got caught all the time too, but she didn’t want to risk looking any crazier than she already did.
Eliza logged herself into the meeting room she’d booked, and powered up her laptop. She was determined to get some work done while she waited, especially since the other people in her team spent more time gossiping than they did actually working. It made getting on with things a shade more difficult. She was busy typing away when the phone in the middle of the conference table rang, making her jump. She really should work on being less spooked by ringing phones.
“Hello?” She propped the phone between her shoulder and her cheek, continuing to type as she did.
“Miss Davidson, I have a Mr Sanders here to see you,” said the voice at the other end. She was only half listening, and she barely registered the name of the man she was meeting. It wasn’t like it mattered anyway. The design company hadn’t named her contact, and she suspected that the man was just a lackey like she was.
“Okay, I’ll be with you in a few moments.” She saved the document she was working on, and pushed back her chair. Slowly, she made her way through the brightly lit corridor and down to the ground floor. “Hi, Denise.” She smiled brightly at the aging receptionist who seemed to be a permanent fixture on the front desk.
“Hi Miss Davidson, he’s just over there.” Denise pointed to a tall, dark haired man, who was examining the display of mannequins, each wearing clothes from one of the company’s ranges.
She’d never admit it out loud, especially
not while she was at work, but Eliza would never be caught dead in any of it. It was far too faddy for her. This morning’s weirdness aside, Eliza normally wore comfortable clothes; jeans and t-shirts on the weekend, if not her pyjamas, and equally as comfortable work clothes. With the occasional suit skirt if she had an important meeting.
Denise leaned forward and made a come-hither gesture, a conspiratorial look on her face. Humouring her, Eliza leaned forward.
“Just wait until you see his front,” Denise said as she winked. Eliza gave her a fleeting smile.
“What did you say his name was again?”
“Mr Sanders,” Denise replied, only half paying attention to Eliza. The rest of her attention was focused on the man’s rear. Eliza didn’t blame her; it was quite something to look at. But this time, when Denise said his name, it registered, and she began to look at the man in a completely different way. The man turned around, and caught her staring, not that it was enough to stop her doing it. Nor did it stop her heart hammering in her chest, while simultaneously dropping like a stone.
While she hadn’t seen him in nearly six years, there was no doubt in Eliza’s mind that it was Ethan standing in front of her. He had the same dark hair and brown eyes, with the intense gaze that he’d had for years. Except that he was broader now, and without a doubt, he was manlier. At school, he’d been on the rugby team, but he’d been that position that the skinny boys who happened to be able to run fast played, she’d never been able to remember what the position was called. If he still played, then she was sure he’d now be part of the scrum.
Her mouth almost began to water as she took in the sight of him in dark trousers, and a smart white shirt open at the neck. He had a suit jacket slung over his arm, but like her, he’d probably decided that it was too hot outside to wear it. She didn’t blame him; it was unseasonably warm for early May, and it felt like it was getting hotter in reception by the second.
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