Of Fate and Fortune: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (Arcane Arts Academy Book 4)

by Elena Lawson

  “After Granger returns to the academy. He’s watching over things in her stead.”

  I nodded along with his words. I just needed to be reassured he would be here. It wasn’t that Cal and Adrian weren’t enough. Or that I couldn’t get through this without him. I just wanted him. I craved his touch. I needed to see the steadiness in his denim blue eyes to know for sure I could weather this storm and any others that would be thrown into our paths. I needed the sense of security he always brought with him like a warm blanket.

  Soon. He would be here soon. I just had to wait a little longer.

  “And Draven should be back soon. He was hoping he’d be able to come back tonight, but more likely tomorrow. He had some… things to deal with.”

  I wrinkled my brow, about to ask just what things he was referring to when Adrian came in brandishing a crystal decanter and three glasses clasped together with only his fingers. “Will this work?”

  I snorted, eyeing the brimming full decanter—knowing it contained only the finest, and strongest Irish whiskey. “Yeah,” I said, reaching for my glass when Cal took them from Adrian and held one out to me. “I think that’ll do the trick.”

  Proud of himself, Adrian beamed and began to fill the glasses, my nose wrinkled before I could even get it anywhere near my mouth to take my first sip.

  “I’m going to pretend that’s sweet tea,” Granger said, entering the dining room behind my guys.

  Adrian choked on his swallow of whiskey and grimaced as a bit came out his nose. I chuckled, unable to help myself. Adrian snickered at me, but behind the facade of annoyance, I could see the relief in his eyes at the sound of my laughter—no matter how short.

  Behind Granger, another woman entered. I recognized her. She was the same lawyer who’d come to arrange for the inheritance of my father’s estate properties and accounts after the origin spell proved my heritage. I gave her a little wave. “Hi again,” I said lamely as Adrian drew out a chair for her. I didn’t miss her look of distaste at seeing my two familiars there.

  That one little thing put a nasty stain on my impression of her, and I sank back into my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.

  The woman cleared her throat, running a flat hand against the side of her head as though there may have been a hair out of place in her meticulously twisted bun—there wasn’t. Damn, she must have had to wax her hair for it to be so perfectly smooth, without a single flyaway. My own hair was a gnarled mess I hadn’t bothered to brush since yesterday. Instead of attempting to comb the tangles before the funeral—a task I’m certain would’ve taken an hour if not more—I’d pulled it back into a sort of messy updo that managed to look halfway presentable.

  “Yes, well, I wish we could meet under better circumstances, but it comes with the territory I suppose.”

  I gave her a tight-lipped nod and leaned forward a bit in my chair as she set her briefcase down atop the table. I already had an idea of what Martin would have left me, but I couldn’t be certain.

  I mean, he really only had one thing.

  “Martin had his will amended just days before the um…incident,” she said, getting right down to brass tacks.

  Granger’s hand came to rest on my shoulder, making me jump at first before I realized it was just her, trying to lend me some strength.

  “He left you his house—the caretaker’s cottage Alistair had built for him, and all of its possessions.”

  I exhaled. Glad that was over. I was completely honored, of course. That he would think to write me into his will after so little time… it both warmed and broke my heart. And made me wonder if he somehow sensed that something was coming—maybe something he may not survive. It made me question whether he knew he wouldn’t be returning when he went with Bianca into the bowels of the academy.

  I shivered just to think of it.

  The lawyer pushed a sheet of paper toward me and handed me a sleek silver pen. “Just sign here, dear,” she said and pressed the cool metal into my hand.

  I did as instructed, my throat feeling as though it were suddenly full of cotton and razor blades.

  “Oh,” she exclaimed as she tucked the slip of paper back into her briefcase. “And this. He was very specific that I was not to give it to you until after he was formally buried, which I found odd, but I suppose he was an odd sort of fellow.”

  She lifted a thin white envelope out of the case. It was square-shaped, and when she handed it to me, I could feel the weight of the old paper. Thick and sturdy. Across the front of the otherwise unblemished parchment was one word, my name, written in black ink with an unsteady hand.

  2

  “Aren’t you going to read it?” Elias asked several hours later. I was sitting on his lap in one of the soft armchairs in my father’s study. Draven hadn’t returned yet and Cal and Adrian were taking the reprieve to shower, though I think they knew I wanted a moment to myself with him.

  I inhaled deeply, blowing the breath out through my nose, almost groaning. His hand on my waist shifted, tightened, trying to get my attention. I met his stare and he wrapped his other arm around me, drawing me nearer so our noses were almost touching. “No rush,” he said, and rubbed his nose against mine in the faintest of eskimo kisses. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. Just a couple hours ago I was eager to get this all over with. Ready to move on as best I could so we could tackle the bigger problems. I couldn’t very well do that if I held on to this thing. I glared down at the little letter in my hand. Wondering what it could hold. Was it a goodbye? Would the writing inside tell me he knew his death was coming all along? What else would it be?

  “No, I’ll read it now,” I said, my voice straining to eek the words out. “Pass me that?” I added, gesturing to the half drunken glass of whiskey on the side table next to the chair, just out of my reach. He passed it to me, taking a little sip before he did.

  “Good stuff,” he said, more to himself than to me.

  It was. The best stuff. My father’s stores were stocked well with it, too. I wasn’t sure we’d ever run out.

  Well, if we kept drinking like we were tonight then it was possible…

  I downed the last of it and handed the empty glass back. The strong alcohol burned a path down into my stomach. I let the liquid courage do the work for me—tearing the seal in a rush before I could change my mind.

  “Hey, you decided to read it?” Cal asked as he stepped into the study, still drying his hair with a damp towel. Nothing but those khaki cargo pants hanging low enough on his waist that the booze had me thinking of all sorts of things that should not be crossing my mind right now.

  “Yeah,” I answered, pulling the single slip of paper out of the envelope. My knuckles were white as I opened it and clenched it on either side, my jaw clenching.

  Dear Harper.

  Oh god. I put it down, unable to continue. My chest tightening.

  “Do you want me to read it to you?” Elias offered, holding out a hand for the letter.

  I considered. I guessed that I would be telling them what it said, anyway. Besides, it might be easier to hear Martin’s words if they came from Elias’ lips.

  I didn’t answer, just handed him the letter and turned my face away, focusing on a spot on the floor. Cal came to lean against the armrest of the chair and began running his fingers through my tangled hair.

  Elias cleared his throat. “Dear Harper,” he began just as Adrian walked into the study. He folded himself down to sit cross-legged in front of the chair, mouthing to me you got this.

  I refocused on my spot on the floor. The little whorl of wood where the tree had knotted before it was sawn down to form one of these ancient planks. I wondered how old it was. Realized I was just trying to distract myself and started stressing again.

  “If you’re reading this, it means I’m gone, and I want you to know that I had a wonderful life here. There was nothing quite like watching your father grow into the man he became. Or watching you come into this w
orld, and then after, finding you safe and returned home after so many years. That I should have lived to see such things… well, I am blessed. But unfortunately, the purpose of this letter is not to console you but to enlighten you,” Elias paused there and we all looked to him, confused, but curious. Eager to hear what he meant.

  Finding his spot again in the short letter, Elias continued. “I made a promise once. A vow of secrecy that I swore to take to my grave. And now that I’m safely resting beneath the ground, it’s time you knew the truth. I’m only sorry I’m not there to better explain things. Or rather—that she isn’t. The secret I kept was for your mother, Harper. She isn’t what you think. She didn’t abandon you. She’d never do that.”

  My heart beat out a discordant rhythm and my pulse picked up. Sweat broke out over my chest and suddenly it was too hot in here. Why had we made a fire? I ground my jaw.

  Noticing my discomfort, Elias paused again. “Do you want me to stop?”

  I shook my head.

  “Alright,” Elias said, clearing his throat to begin again. “From what I know she vanished only days after she left you, and given what she was and what she knew, I don’t doubt for an instant the vanishing was done of her own accord. But the important part—what you need to know—is it isn’t only powerful witch blood that runs in your veins, Miss Harper. Your mother wasn’t human, though she passed for it more or less.”

  “Uh,” Adrian said, as though he was going to ask a question, but thought better of it.

  Cal shushed him, trying to read over Elias’ shoulder.

  My stomach twisted. My mind was trying to rebel against what it was hearing. This couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. My mother was human, she was—

  “She was Enduran,” Elias said, continuing in his reading of the letter.

  Cal cursed under his breath. Adrian’s jaw slackened. Looking between the letter and me—then back again.

  I didn’t realize I was shaking my head until Cal stopped his stroking of my hair. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right.

  “Well, don’t stop,” Adrian said, scooting closer. “Keep reading.”

  Elias’ brows raised for an instant before he refocused on the parchment between his fingers. I wanted to tell him to stop. That I didn’t want to hear anymore. Except, that wasn’t really true, was it?

  Even as Elias continued reading, I started to see the sense in it.

  My familiar bond with two Enduran shifters. The moon room beneath the willow tree in the yard. The wolf’s head knocker on the door. That one passage my father had written about needing to find the cure for her.

  “Her bloodline was weak,” Elias said, and it took me an extra couple of seconds to realize he’d started reading again. “Muddied from too many generations mated with humans. She was a born wolf, but could only turn on a full moon. She was never able to control it, or to control herself when she changed. It was painful for her. So painful. Your father worked tirelessly to find a way to stop it.”

  Elias swallowed, wetting his dry lips—the crease in his forehead deepening. “But now you know, dear Harper, the secret she made me promise to keep. There is more, but I can’t pretend to understand it all. If it’s more answers you seek, you’ll find them in Spain. At La Casa Rosa. I implore you to tread carefully, dear one. For I fear it was the pursuit of answers that killed your father. Don’t let it take you, too. Thank you for allowing me to serve you. It was an honor and privilege.”

  None of us spoke for what felt like ages after Elias set the parchment down in my lap. I didn’t move to take it. Didn’t move at all.

  I glanced at it out of the corner of my eye, noticing a sequence of numbers written across the bottom of the page. “What are those?” I asked, ignoring the more important glaring fact we’d just learned. Elias narrowed his eyes at me before he refocused on the page.

  “Don’t know,” he said with a small shrug.

  Cal tore the page out of my hand and after one quick glance he said, “They’re coordinates,” in a raspy growl. “Are we not going to talk about the fact that you have wolf blood in your veins?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek, suddenly feeling very small with all of their eyes on me.

  “Yeah,” Adrian chimed in. “That’s kind of big news.”

  “Maybe it’s why your power is more difficult to control,” Elias mused, his eyes unfocused as he tried to work out the problem in his mind. “A witch can’t be infected by the bite of a shifter. We can’t change,” he said. “But you were born with Enduran blood already inside you. Your magic would have to work twice as hard every second of every day to fight it.”

  What he said was making sense, but there was one crucial thing he seemed to be missing.

  “But—”

  “And I’d stake money on that being the reason why you bonded to us as your familiars,” Cal added.

  I shook my head. “If it’s true,” I said. “There’s no way to prove—”

  “What reason would Martin have to lie about something like that when he’s already dead and gone,” Elias said, sort of insensitively. I flinched. “I don’t think it’s a lie, Harper. I think it’s true. And since it is, that would make you a hybrid. The first ever born to survive longer than a few days.”

  If it was true—and I wouldn’t give it anything more solid than an if—then I just might be what he said. A…a hybrid? Not only was it once illegal and still frowned upon to mate with another race, but everyone knew that it wasn’t possible for an interracial couple to conceive. Not since the curses were laid. Our warring types of magic energy didn’t mesh. A shifter could not bear a witch. A witch could not bear a fae. A Vocari couldn’t bear anything. And so on and so forth.

  “But it’s not possible.”

  Elias ran a hand through his tousled hair, and a vein in Cal’s temple seemed to twitch. “Apparently, it is.”

  “What does it mean?” I said after a time. “Does it even matter?”

  Elias pursed his lips, and the others also carefully considered my question. It was a fair one. I’d never been swayed by the moon. I’d never been able to change into a wolf. Did this information really matter at all? Other than the fact that Martin believes my mother never actually abandoned me—which I was still processing—the information seemed pretty damn useless.

  “I think it does,” Elias said. “If you have shifter blood and your magic is fighting it, there would be a way for you to allow that part of you to surface. To suppress your arcane magic enough to let it out…in theory, of course.”

  I rolled my eyes, getting up from his lap so I could look him properly in the eyes. “Why? So, I can shift only during a full moon like my mother? In agony as my bones reform to a new figure?”

  Elias dropped his head at that. I would be the first to admit that the fleeting moment I spent inside Cal and Adrian’s minds as they ran in their wolf forms had been glorious. If I could do that…well, it would be incredible. But that wasn’t what we were talking about here. If all of this was true, then my mother’s bloodline was already weak, which meant mine would be even weaker.

  If I could shift at all—and the thought alone was absolutely ridiculous—then I would probably be like her. Only able to shift during a full moon. Forced to stay chained up in the moon room below the earth. Entirely unable to control my primal urges.

  Who would want that?

  “You’re right,” Elias said. “I’m sorry.”

  Eager to change the subject—not wanting to think about my mother or shifter blood in my veins anymore, at least until I was alone—I went back to the letter. “La Casa Rosa must be my father’s summer home in Spain.”

  Cal quirked his lips, and I could visibly see him letting go of the previous conversation and bowing to my need to change the subject with a small huff. “I’m assuming that’s what the coordinates are for.”

  “It’s probably warded,” Elias agreed. “The coordinates would be the only way to find it.”

  I took a long, deep breath and let my
shoulders fall. The ghost of a smile rested on my lips. I shrugged. “Anyone fancy a trip?”

  3

  It was decided. It took a lot of convincing to get Cal and Adrian to allow me to cover all the expenses, but they agreed after I told them the trip would be all you can eat. How could anyone turn down an open meal ticket in Spain? Elias, of course, couldn’t come with us, at least not on the same flight… because of the whole it’s inappropriate to be dating your teacher thing.

  I couldn’t wait until that wasn’t a thing anymore. I longed for the ability to be open about our relationship. About my relationships with all the guys. But maybe we could do that at La Casa Rosa. A warded mansion in the Spanish countryside—likely without any neighbors. We could just be…us. It was enough to dampen the uglier emotion still vying to be felt.

  Elias was planning to visit his parents at their home in Andorra during the break before the new term started at AAA. Turns out, their place in Andorra is less than a six-hour drive from the coordinates Cal googled—just a little further inland from Valencia, near what looked to be a tiny village on the map with a name I couldn’t pronounce.

  So, if we just happened to bump into each other…well, no one had to be the wiser about it. If there were many clues or answers to be found in Spain—I knew I would need Elias’ expertise to figure them all out.

  The only person left to ask was Draven, but we still hadn’t seen him. Knowing the sly vamp, he would probably show up at my dorm room window for old times’ sake. I hoped he would come, too. If he wanted, I could even book us a red-eye flight, and make sure it took off and landed in darkness.

  “I still can’t believe we’re going to Europe,” Cal said, tearing another chunk off the loaf of bread with his teeth. Even after all this time I couldn’t figure out where he was putting it all. They’d already eaten almost everything in the ice chest and pantry. That bread he was snacking on was probably awfully stale by now. Though he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.