by Lora Edwards
Teagan huffed out a laugh and took a sip of her own drink. “Yes Vid, a celebrity who butchers women and, apparently, is a rogue supernatural.”
Ovidia waved that away. “Bran and I will be there for support, and it is not like you are lacking in skills. The whole institute is buzzing about your little tornado in the library today.”
Teagan coughed and sputtered. “Everyone knows about that?”
“Oh Teag, the institute is like a small town—everyone knows everything. You will get used to it.”
Teagan leaned forward in the booth. “If I never hear the phrase you will get used to it again in my whole life, it will be too soon.” Teagan sat back in the booth, taking another sip of her drink.
“Well, well, it looks like Cleo has her hooks in Bran again,” Ovidia said in a low voice.
Teagan turned, looking in the direction of Ovidia’s gaze, and saw Bran with Draconus’ secretary. Cleo was wrapped around him like some elegant vine and, before she could look away, Teagan witnessed their lip lock.
“They need to get a room, seriously,” Teagan snapped, taking a gulp of her drink.
Ovidia looked at Teagan, amused. “Jealous much?” she asked, arching her eyebrow. “Don’t wear your heart out on him Teag, he is not worth it. The man does not know the meaning of the word monogamous.”
Teagan straightened in the booth, glaring at Ovidia. “I won’t be wearing anything out on him. I just think there is no reason for that in public. No one needs to see that.” Finishing her drink in two more long gulps, Teagan slid out of the booth. “I think I am going to call it a night. I said one drink, and it has been a long week.”
Ovidia smiled and lifted what was left of her Cosmo. “Okay, Girlfriend, enjoy your jammies and book. I think I will stay here and flirt with the waiter a while yet. You okay to get back on your own?”
“Yeah, I will just hail a cab. Enjoy the rest of your night. Love you Vid.”
“Love you too. Get some rest.”
Walking out of the bar required going past Bran and Cleo. Teagan walked quickly, attempting to avoid eye contact, but Bran caught her eye just as she walked past.
He stared for a moment then hastily looked away. Cleo gave her a once over, smirked, and then turned back to run her hand through Bran’s thick hair, smiling deviously.
Teagan continued out of the bar, raising her arm to hail a cab. Why did she feel like she wanted to cry? Like she had been betrayed when there had been nothing but sniping between her and Bran? Maybe she was the only one feeling the attraction between them. Teagan reached up to rub the ache in her chest, angry at herself for being affected by him that way. He was a jerk and a player if what Ovidia said was right, and she would know.
After paying for the cab, Teagan went up to her room and changed into a t-shirt and butter leggings. Grabbing a glass of wine and her Kindle, she settled down in front of the bedroom fire.
She put her feelings for Bran out of her mind and lost herself in her current read.
Chapter 8
“You ready for round two, Princess? I hear you caused quite the ruckus yesterday in the library.”
Looking at Bran, Teagan put her hands on her hips. “I am so ready to wipe the floor with you. I hope you are ready to get your ass kicked by a girl.”
Crouching down, Teagan went for him, hoping to catch him by surprise, but Bran was ready for the move and quickly moved away from her. The dance continued with each person getting in a hit or two like a deadly ballet, neither able to get the better of the other. She noticed the change in his eyes, how they seemed to glow, and readied another spell she’d practiced the day before. As the fire blew toward her, she stood her ground, imagining a brick wall in front of her and hoping and praying it worked. She did not have a desire to become a crispy critter. The fire flew up the barrier she had created, and Teagan was surprised that she did not even feel the heat. She began to move closer to Bran until she was within striking distance. A roundhouse kick to the stomach and the fire stopped as an oomph came from Bran. Standing over him as he lay on the mat, attempting to breathe, Teagan smirked.
“What did I say—oh yes, that I was going to kick your ass. Are we done here?”
Standing up and smiling broadly, Bran looked at her. “Good job Princess, though you know I let you do that right? I wanted to see the extent of your power, and it is quite impressive.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah right, whatever helps you keep your manhood in place.” She smirked at him again.
“Again.” Bran crouched down, motioning her forward.
Oh, the needs of the male ego, Teagan thought as she bent at the waist and circled him.
He moved in first and she blocked, the dance beginning again. She felt the sweat roll down her back at the effort of matching him move for move. He was a good fighter without all the magic. Hit for hit, the fight went on. He was like a machine, and she could feel herself tiring.
She’d learned over the two sessions that he was somewhat overconfident and leaned slightly to his right. She waited for an opportunity and used her small form and speed to get past his guard.
Bran’s legs flew out from under him, and as Teagan began to gloat at her victory, she too found herself flat on her back on the mat when he kicked out at the last minute, taking her down next to him.
Eyes shining, Bran rolled to his side on the mat, looking down at her. “Nice.”
Teagan glared up at his face, irritated that she’d been caught off guard and that he’d used the same overconfidence in her that she had used on him.
The look went on, but the playfulness left Bran’s face, replaced by something else; an intensity that made her skin tingle. She found her gaze slipping from his eyes to his mouth, wondering what it would feel like to have it on hers.
Tearing her gaze away, she again looked at his eyes, which were now deep dark green pools she could fall into.
“You are making progress Teagan. I think by the time we make the jump, you will be ready.” Bran’s voice was rough and his gaze landed squarely on her mouth.
Leaning forward and closing her eyes, Teagan felt a tingling in her lips in anticipation of his lips meeting hers.
“Yo, Bran, you in here,” a low voice inquired from near the door and they broke apart, both jumping up and not looking at each other.
“In here, man,” Bran responded as a huge man entered the room.
“Draconus would like a word.”
Bran nodded in his direction and looked at Teagan, the desire gone from his eyes. “That is enough for today, Princess. As I said before, it is apparent that your fighting skills are impressive.”
Teagan nodded as she hurried out of the room, not making eye contact with either of them. She could feel Bran’s gaze on her back, an itch between her shoulder blades as she walked out of the room.
Teagan quickly walked up the hallway toward the library, running her hand through her hair and trying to corral her racing thoughts. What the hell is going on? She could not be attracted to him. It was a no-go. She needed to focus on why she was there. She could not let this happen. He was not interested in anything, just a fling, as he’d made apparent when talking to Cleo outside Draconus’ office. If she bent to the attraction between them and her heart got involved, that road would only lead to heartbreak.
Walking into the library, she shoved thoughts of Bran and the almost kiss out of her head. She needed to concentrate for this part. Her control was still shaky and she would hate to destroy her grandpa’s library once again.
Looking up from his papers, Hugh smiled at her. “Hello, my girl, we have a special lesson today.”
“Special lesson?”
“Yes, today will be your first jump.”
Teagan felt her stomach drop. The time travel stuff was about to become real.
“I know this is an odd question, but will it hurt?”
“Oh no. You may feel a bit lightheaded at first, but it won’t hurt, and when you get the feel for jumping, those symptoms wi
ll go away. It is something that is in your blood, and not all people can master the skill.”
“How do you know I can?”
A mischievous twinkle came into his eyes. “Do you remember when you were a child, and I would take you to those gardens you so loved, the ones with the hanging plants and the fountains?”
Teagan searched her memory; it was still odd to suddenly have all these memories from when she was a small child. There was a vague memory of skipping down a stone path as water gurgled in a fountain, the smell of flowers all around.
“Yes, I remember a little.”
“That was Larissa Castle.”
“You have got to be kidding me!”
“No Girlie, I am not. It was one of our special places, and it is the place we are going to go today.”
“How do you know it is not your power that took me there? How do you know I can do this on my own?”
Hugh chuckled again. “When you were small, probably too small to even remember, we used to play hide and seek, and you took hiding to a whole new level. I once found you in a trunk in the Tower of London…in 1560.”
“How did you know where I was, how to find me? How frightening.”
“No, it was fine. When you were small, we had a trace spell on you, something like a GPS tracker, as you liked to slip in and out of time, and in and out of Faery whenever the fancy took you.”
Teagan stared, shocked. She had time traveled before, on her own, as a small child! The thought was hard to wrap her mind around.
“It is quite simple. I will show you a picture of the place we are going, and I want you to see it in your mind’s eye. You were good at this—you would look at a photo and be able to jump to that place quite easily. I just want you to make an image of it in your mind and imagine yourself there.”
“That’s it?” Teagan asked. “No spell, wand, or stone?”
“No. With our power, none of that is needed. Others travel with those things, but we do not have need of magical aids.”
Teagan frowned doubtfully and closed her eyes. She’d always had a vivid imagination, always drawing and painting as a child and teen.
Hugh held out a picture of a castle, green rolling hills, a massive stone structure with mist wreathing the uppermost turrets.
Teagan looked hard at the image.
“Let us try for the top of that hill there, just outside the castle walls, shall we,” he said.
Teagan focused on the green hill surrounding the castle, letting her imagination open up—it was almost an audible click in her head. Teagan could feel the wind in her hair, could smell the heather and horses. Even the air felt like it had changed, a chilly mist settling on her skin.
Feeling a hand at her elbow, she frowned; she did not want to leave this daydream. It was so pretty and so realistic. She did not want to open her eyes to see the kind face of her grandpa as he told her she had failed.
“Girlie, open your eyes,” he whispered beside her. Feeling him take a stronger grip on her arm, Teagan did as he said.
The library did not greet her, but the image from the picture did. She felt herself sway a bit as a rush of dizziness enveloped her, and she quickly closed her eyes once more to get her balance. Opening them slowly, she looked down from the hill at the immense castle that loomed before her. “Damn, it is real. I did it.” Teagan looked at her grandpa’s smiling face. “Where are we?” she whispered. “When are we?”
“We are still in the present year. I wanted to try something easy the first time, just to help you move through space. This is why the photograph was used. When you are more trained, you will be able to move through time just by using a painting of a place or by the description. It is a tricky business, so we start slow. Of course, there were photos taken in 1888, so that jump should be much like this one.”
Teagan nodded in his direction and looked around. “Can we explore?”
“Of course. The castle is a tourist attraction in present time.”
Sitting in one of the side chairs beside a crackling fire, a glass of wine in hand, Teagan reflected on the events of the day. She’d spent a wonderful afternoon with her grandfather just looking around the old castle. Memories of when she was a child, playing around the grounds hundreds of years in the past, surfaced; now, just remnants remained, and those memories clashed jarringly with the recollections she had of the fountains flowing and the gardens full of fresh flowers. Afterwards they had returned to the institute and he had introduced her to Fenian Faelyn a cousin of hers from Faery and he had helped her refine the fae side of her magic.
Laying her head back against the chair, Teagan smiled. Her life was something out of a fairytale. Looking at her phone perched on the armrest, she groaned. She had promised to go to dinner with Ovidia, and it was time to get up and get dressed.
Teagan sighed in relief as she pulled open the door to the upscale restaurant. Vid chose well, she thought as she entered. Soft classical music played overhead, the lighting dim.
“Welcome to Seven Park Place, how may I be of assistance,” the maître d’ asked her with a pleasant smile on his face.
“Teagan Faelyn here to meet Ovidia Valkyrie.”
“Yes, Miss Faelyn. Miss Valkyrie has already been seated, right this way.” He led her through the elegant dining area to a small round table draped with a white linen cloth. Nodding at him as he pulled out her chair, Teagan laid her bag next to her place, noticing the amazing view of the Thames.
She looked at Ovidia suspiciously with one eyebrow raised. “How did you beat me here?”
“I came straight from a meeting that was shorter than expected, because someone is a hothead,” Ovidia responded.
“Meeting?”
“Draconus called a meeting of the senior people going on the Ripper jump, something about Bran thinking you needed more security.”
“Me? I can handle myself.”
“I know, and that is what I said. Draconus agreed, and Bran stomped out of the meeting like a child in the middle of a tantrum. I have never seen him so worked up. So, the meeting was shorter than expected and I came early to enjoy an extra glass of wine while I waited for you to get here.”
Teagan frowned at the information Ovidia had just given her. It looked as if during the training session the next day, Teagan and Bran were going to have to have a talk. She did not need some macho man thinking he had to take care of her. She was capable of doing that on her own—her parents had made sure of that.
“So how are the lessons with Hugh going?” Ovidia asked, changing the subject.
“Well, I traveled for the first time today. We did not go into the past, but he took me to this old Greek castle from my childhood and we toured the ruins. It is still strange to have memories from childhood that are new to me—I kept getting flashes of the castle when it was new. It was awesome!”
Ovidia laughed. “Leave it to you, Teag, to think a bunch of crusty ruins were awesome.”
The waiter arrived and took their orders then the two old friends settled in for good food and even better conversation. She found herself relaxing for the first time since coming to London, the familiar banter with Ovidia bringing things into perspective. Even with the massive changes going on in her life, some things remained the same.
“Vid, I am stuffed. That was amazing—you always know the right places to go.”
Ovidia smiled as she signaled the waiter for the check. “Yes well, I do like to eat, and if I am going to eat, it might as well be good.”
“What are your plans for the rest of the night?” Teagan asked, knowing she was not going back to curl up with a good book.
“I am meeting someone for drinks. He is a new to the institute, a selkie.”
“Be careful, you know what they say about their hearts belonging to the sea,” Teagan commented as she took her card back from the waiter and stood to leave.
“Oh Teag, you know me—I’m not looking for forever.” Ovidia laughed as she linked arms with Teagan to walk out of the
room.
Opening the door and breathing in the fresh air, Teagan felt that itch between her shoulder blades and turned around. At one of the nearby tables sat Bran, staring at her with an unreadable look on his face. Across from him was a tall blonde—a different woman for a different night, Teagan thought bitterly.
Giving him a little wave, he waved back, and the blonde turned around to see who was behind her. Her face could have been sculpted in marble, an icy beauty in a silvery blue dress that clung to her trim figure, the neckline plunging to show off generous cleavage. Teagan turned around and followed Ovidia out of the restaurant with a small shake of her head.
After saying their goodbyes, Ovidia caught a cab to her next destination and Teagan began the short walk back to the institute.
Angry with herself, her steps were quicker than normal as she reached the building and walked to the bank of elevators. What did it matter to her if he had a different woman every night? It was not as if they were in a relationship and the almost kiss did not count as anything. She told herself it was just the aftermath of the adrenaline of her successful jump that afternoon.
He was an unattached, adult male, and she knew he wasn’t good for her. She wasn’t going to be a one-night stand, a notch on his bedpost. Shallow relationships did not fit into her lifestyle. Stepping off the elevator and letting herself into her place, Teagan convinced herself she did not need a romance right then, not with everything else going on. She would eventually find a man she had things in common with, not one who had a string of women a mile long.
Changing into her favorite leggings and a long, soft t-shirt, Teagan grabbed a glass of wine and her book, determined to put all thoughts of Bran and his player ways out of her head. The only man she needed was the one between the pages of her beloved romance novel.
Chapter 9
It was the day of her appointment with wardrobe and she was excited to see the outfits she would be wearing for her trip back to the 1800s. Teagan walked into the cozy room and noticed a line of dress forms in front of a painted screen. The room also contained a few chairs and a small raised platform in the middle.