The Paranormal Research and Rescue Institute Books 1-3: Books 1-3 in the Paranormal Research and Rescue Institute Series

by Lora Edwards

  “It’s the truth. I enjoyed talking to you—almost as much as our other activities.” He smiled again.

  They had lain in bed after making love, wrapped together, and talked for hours. Bran had regaled her with stories of the first time he had shifted into a dragon; and Teagan had shared with him the many places she had traveled with her parents. He’d made her laugh with funny stories about the missions he had been on for the institute; and she had told him about some of her favorite students and her work at Duke. They had fallen asleep holding each other, and Teagan had never felt so comfortable with another person. It was as if her shyness had dissolved for that one night.

  “Really,” Teagan ventured, hating the vulnerable tone in her voice.

  “Really. Now I hate to run, but I don’t want to scandalize the staff—it is common knowledge that our marriage is just a cover. See you downstairs for breakfast in an hour?”

  Teagan nodded, smiling in appreciation of his muscular back as he slipped on his clothes and walked to the connecting door. He turned and winked, flashing his amazing dimples one more time before going into his own room.

  Teagan looked at the rumpled bed and thought it was an advertisement for how they had spent the evening. Jumping up, she smoothed out the sheets and covers.

  With a smile still on her face, she stepped into the bathroom. Once she was freshly showered, she pulled the bell so Victoria would come help her dress.

  Teagan went downstairs to find Bran and Ovidia enjoying breakfast. Avoiding looking directly at Bran, she focused on Ovidia.

  “Okay Vid, what is on the agenda tonight? We have some time—this next time it is a double murder in the same night at the end of the month. We can research this Duke Somerton we have heard about.” Teagan filled her plate from the sideboard then sat down next to Ovidia.

  “Tonight, we will be attending a gallery showing hosted by Duke Clarence. It will be an exhibition of Duke Somerton’s work.”

  “Tomorrow evening I plan to go to Whites for a stag party for one of the other Dukes, and you ladies are booked in at a card party.” Bran looked over at Teagan with a warm look in his eyes, and Teagan tried to subdue the blush creeping up her cheeks.

  A quick look over at Ovidia showed she was busy reading the newspaper and had not seen the look that passed between them. She would have to tell Ovidia; there was no way she would not find out, and she would be hurt if Teagan did not let her in on things.

  “Well ladies, I will see you later this evening for the gallery showing. I have to go make it look as if I am a man around town. I will be in my study working on some things for the institute, and then I am off to the club for lunch.”

  As soon as Bran shut the study door, Ovidia leaned back in her chair. “You slept with him,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Vid!” Teagan squeaked as her face turned red.

  “I know how you are, and I don’t want details, but your face just gave me confirmation. You are two consenting adults so there is no reason to try to hide it.”

  “I was going to tell you Vid, you know I cannot keep a secret.”

  “I know, but it was fun to be able to tell you I knew and watch your face turn the color of a tomato. Be careful, Teag. I know you do not do casual, and there have been a lot of women who have worn their hearts out on Bran. He is not a bad guy, but he is a dragon, and they mate for life. Right now, he is just playing the field until the right one comes along. I imagine even at that point, he will run like hell.” Ovidia sat back in her chair with a small chuckle.

  “We’re just enjoying each other’s company. I know there is a chance of it not going anywhere, and last night was one of the few impulsive moments of my life, but it was not all physical. We talked, and both of us shared things I don’t think either of us shares easily. I will be careful, I promise.”

  “Good Teag, because you are not cut out for flings. You are a forever girl.”

  “What about you Vid, do you think you are a forever girl?”

  Ovidia stared out the window for a long moment and then turned back to Teagan with a small smile on her face. “I thought I was once, but it was not meant to be. I couldn’t talk about it to you because he worked at the institute. Since I was spelled, I had to keep the entire affair quiet.”

  “Wait, it was Erik, right?”

  “Yes, that was him,” Ovidia said in a soft voice.

  “Well, now that I am no longer under the spell, what happened? I remember you mentioning him, saying he was a work colleague, and then the next time we spoke you only said it didn’t work out.”

  “He chose someone else. He chose duty over us. It is a long story, not one I want to get into now,” Ovidia said, rubbing Teagan’s arm to take the sting out of the words. “Enough of that. We are free for the afternoon until we have to get ready to go to the showing and I have a little secret to show you. Go back upstairs and put on your comfy clothes then meet me outside my room in let’s say…twenty minutes,” Ovidia said, the old sparkle of mischief back in her eyes. Whatever Ovidia had in mind had chased away the sadness.

  “Okay, do I get to know what we are doing? Not scandalizing the Victorians, are we,” Teagan teased.

  “No, nothing like that, just go change. Trust me, it will be fun.”

  Twenty minutes later, Teagan stood outside Ovidia’s door, softly knocking. She was impatient to find out about Ovidia’s surprise, especially one that let her be comfortable in her favorite leggings and t-shirt.

  The door opened and Ovidia stepped out, comfortably dressed in loose silk pants and top.

  “Okay Teag, follow me.” Ovidia giggled, grabbed Teagan’s hand, and dragged her down the stairs. Teagan laughed; it reminded her of when they were young and, the more outgoing Ovidia, would pull Teagan out of her shell. Ovidia would take her out to do something fun, and she never disappointed.

  They wound their way down the stairs, down the hall, past the room where Teagan had seen Ovidia practicing her sword-fighting skills, to a nondescript wooden door.

  Ovidia reached out, muttering an incantation, and the door shimmered and disappeared. Ovidia gently pushed Teagan into a living room that resembled the suite of a nice hotel. There were sink-into-me couches and chairs covered in a deep chocolate suede, a gleaming wooden bar along one wall, and a modern kitchenette with microwave, stove, and sink tucked into an alcove opposite the door.

  Taking up one wall facing the seating area was a huge flat-screen TV. “We can pop popcorn, and the kitchenette is stocked with soft drinks and all types of candy, including your favorite Junior Mints. We can indulge in a few hours of guilty pleasure.” Ovidia was already moving toward the kitchen. “Let’s get this party started!” she shouted, fist-pumping the air and causing a belly laugh from Teagan.

  The girls chatted as they popped popcorn, poured their soft drinks over ice, and found boxes of Junior Mints.

  Sitting cross-legged on the couch, Ovidia turned on the screen and up popped their guilty pleasure, Keeping Up with the Kardashians.

  Teagan’s grin was even broader than before. She knew it was odd to be so obsessed with watching people with tons of money eat, gossip, and travel, but there was just something about watching a life so opposite of yours and immersing yourself in someone else’s petty everyday problems, that soothed the soul. No one but Ovidia knew of Teagan’s closet addiction to the show.

  “How is this possible,” she asked.

  “We have traveled through a portal. Not everyone who comes here can travel through time like the three of us, so with a little magic, it is a little bit of home in the middle of Victorian England.”

  “Thank you, Vid, I needed this,” Teagan said sincerely.

  “That makes two of us girlfriend,” Ovidia said as she pushed play on the remote.

  As Victoria was strapping her into another one of the torture devices later that evening, this time one in amethyst silk, Teagan reflected on her afternoon. It had been just what the doctor ordered. It was wonderful to be able to kick bac
k and just be with her best friend, spend the afternoon peering into the lives of other people and know that when she turned off the television, she did not have to care about their problems anymore. It had been a balm on her emotions and it had also put things back into perspective. She could have a little fling with Bran and be fine with it if that was all that came of their time together. She would solve this case and then decide what she wanted for the rest of her life. She did not have to make all her life decisions right that minute. For the time being she would enjoy Bran’s company and focus all her energies on tracking down the killer before he continued his rampage, and she would try to keep in perspective that fate may have other plans.

  “Well my lady—Teagan, that dress suits you perfectly. It is the most beautiful color on you.” Victoria sighed as she wound a matching silk ribbon through Teagan’s hair.

  Teagan had to agree; the dress was very flattering, and she loved the color. The delicate embroidery of silvery vines with dainty leaves wound down the side of the sleeves then continued along the bottom of the dress. Victoria had done her hair in an elaborate concoction of curls and ribbon, and Teagan was once again shocked by the reflection in the mirror. Teagan the historian was gone, replaced by Lady Draconus.

  She looked in the mirror for a few more moments then turned to Victoria. “Thank you so much for all the help and support you have given me. I would be lost without you.”

  Victoria blushed. “It was nothing. You have been so kind to me, kinder than some of the women that have come here from the institute. Not many have treated me like a person, and you have treated me like a friend. I thank you.”

  Before Teagan could respond, Victoria was gone, softly shutting the door behind her. Teagan took one last look at the woman in the mirror, turned, and swept out of the room to join her friends. Maybe the gallery opening would finally give them the clue they needed to prove Duke Somerton was, in fact, Jack the Ripper.

  Teagan lifted her skirts and carefully walked down the steps. She had previously taken a tumble down them before realizing walking without being able to see her feet took talent. She sighed as she arrived safely at the bottom. She heard muffled laughter and looked up into the bright blue eyes of Bran.

  “Playing it safe, are we,” he asked as his eyes roamed her figure in the dress.

  “Hey, it was only one time, and I learn from my mistakes,” she responded, noticing the heat in his eyes

  “I love the way you look in this dress,” he said huskily.

  She felt her cheeks heat up along with the rest of her at the frank admiration in his gaze.

  “Oh, this old thing, it was just lying around and I thought it appropriate to bring out for the occasion.” She winked and smiled.

  He laughed again. “Teagan, your wit captivates me, just as much as your lovely face.” His eyes moved to her mouth and he moved in slowly to capture her lips with his.

  He brushed her mouth lightly once, twice, but before he could deepen the kiss, the sound of a throat clearing interrupted them.

  Ovidia stood, hand on hip, tapping her slippered foot on the marble impatiently.

  She was stunning in a cream-colored gown of rich silk with a tightly wrapped bodice that billowed out at the waist to a full skirt. The gown was free of embellishments, with only a magnificent diamond and ruby necklace at her throat, made to look like she was wearing flowers—flowers that sparkled and danced in the light.

  “If the two of you are quite finished, we could be off to try to catch a killer, hmmm,” she asked, though there was a sparkle in her eye.

  Bran opened the door, bowing as he waved them through with his arm, smiling at Teagan conspiratorially as she walked past him.

  The gallery was a beautiful setting with delicate wainscoting, carved pillars, and crystal chandeliers. The show was not all that different from a modern art showing if you ignored all the elaborate clothing; any modern critic would have felt right at home.

  They wandered, leisurely, through the first room and it was apparent that the Duke was a very talented artist. The first room contained landscapes; so real they almost looked like photographs. It felt as if you could just walk right into the misty morning or walk along the rain-drenched paths that were depicted. They were restful, almost pastoral, and Teagan loved them. Bran yawned as if bored, and Ovidia flirted with a few of the handsome men that passed by.

  Walking through into the second room of the gallery, the paintings changed somewhat. They started out as portraits; some of the people Teagan recognized, most likely family of the Duke that had commissioned him to paint them. The talent here was just as pronounced as in the room before, and still the paintings were staid, nothing exciting.

  Teagan then walked around the corner and was shocked at the change. The paintings reflected anger and frustration. The paintings of the Whitechapel streets echoed the poverty of the slums, despair leaking out of the canvases. Teagan walked slowly, studying each picture. Every painting depicted a different scene of sadness, and always in the background, there was the shadow of a man in a top hat, a man on the fringe, watching the suffering and depravity of the East End, but apart and indifferent.

  There were only three paintings hung along one wall, and as Teagan walked over to study them, she noticed some of the other guests looking at her curiously. She looked behind her; no one was there. Perhaps they were just looking at the paintings?

  Then she noticed two women pointedly staring at her as they talked behind their gloved hands. They were not looking at the paintings; they were definitely talking about her. Giving them a frown, she walked around the corner to view the last of the paintings.

  There was only one, and it caused her to stop dead in her tracks. Ovidia bumped into her from behind.

  “Teag why did you…” Her voice trailed off as she caught a glimpse of the last painting.

  It was of Teagan at the garden party, slightly turned away with a wistful expression on her face. She held a glass of punch, and there in the corner was the shadow man from the earlier pictures, completely cast in darkness, the barest hint of a face visible. He watched her as she wistfully watched another.

  She felt lightheaded. The journal, this painting, the paintings of the East End—he had to be the Ripper. It all fit.

  Bran squeezed her shoulder. “Come on Teagan, we will go,” he said firmly.

  The trio turned to go, only to find Duke Clarence blocking their retreat. “My dear Lady Draconus! How do you like the last painting? He does brilliant work—he has brought you to life so exquisitely.”

  “Lady Draconus isn’t feeling well. I am so sorry, we must go,” Bran said stiffly.

  “Oh, I am so sorry my dear, I hope the painting hasn’t upset you?”

  Teagan looked at him, shaking her head. “No, it hasn’t, I am just feeling a bit lightheaded and need to go lie down. Please tell Duke Somerton it was a beautiful show.”

  “Yes of course, and do feel better my dear.” He took her hand and placed a kiss on the top.

  “You take good care of her Duke Draconus,” he laughingly admonished Bran.

  Bran gave a curt nod before taking Teagan’s arm and escorting both ladies out of the gallery and into the carriage. They immediately made their way back to the townhouse.

  Teagan felt as if her head would explode, the terror she had felt looking at the painting making her heart pound. He had been watching her. She had seen him in the shadows, but to paint her then put it in the show? People would gossip and speculate about her reputation—not that it mattered. She was only there to solve the murder, but still, it had unnerved her.

  Arriving back at the townhouse, they agreed to change and meet again in the study to hash out a plan for how they would apprehend the Ripper. They did not need to wait for the next murder; it was plain Duke Somerton was their man.

  Teagan pulled the bell with shaking hands and Victoria appeared, concern written on her face. “Lady, you are back so soon. Is everything all, right?”

  “Yes, Vict
oria I am just not feeling all that well. I think it may be the rich food of this time catching up to me. Can you help me change and then bring some tea to the study,” Teagan asked.

  Victoria helped her out of the dress and Teagan quickly changed into her comfortable leggings and a warm sweatshirt. Taking a minute, Teagan sat down in the chair in front of the fireplace. They would make a plan and catch the Ripper. She would go back to her old life and not be stalked by a psychotic killer. That was their goal, so why did the thought of it partly make her sad? Choosing to hash out her emotions later, she left to go down to the study. Her nerves would be steadier after a cup of tea.

  Chapter 17

  Teagan sat next to the roaring fire Bran had started in the study, her hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea.

  “I am fine you two, please stop looking at me as if I might freak out at any moment. It was just a shock seeing my portrait in the gallery. Who expects to walk around a corner and see yourself as the subject of such a creepy painting? Or any painting, at all, for that matter?”

  “Are you sure Teag? You were white, like pasty, and all your freckles stood out on your face. I thought you might pass out,” Ovidia said, the worry in her voice showing on her face.

  “I am sure Vid. It was just a shock, that is all.” Teagan smiled warmly at her, reaching out and taking her hand.

  “This is too dangerous. You will have to go back,” Bran said, his voice hoarse.

  “No! Bran, are you kidding me! I am not leaving now, not when we are about to catch him.” Teagan frowned.

  Bran jumped up from his chair and started pacing the study. “Don’t you see you are a new obsession for him? How long before he comes after you? Before he breaks his plan?” Bran grabbed the back of the chair he was standing behind, his knuckles white.

  “That is why you and Vid are here, and do not forget, I am not some shrinking violet. I have powers of my own. I have trained for this.”

  “Trained? Trained? For what, a few days? To do some magic tricks?”

  “Magic tricks?” The room shook slightly with the force of Teagan’s anger, the tea services rattling on the cart.