Souls of Three: Book Two of the Starseed Trilogy

by Ashley McLeo

  I hope they don’t look at me differently. Or think because I have magical powers I can’t be trusted. Things were so much easier when I was normal, or at least something close to that.

  “We’re here, Miss Evelyn,” George said from the front seat.

  Evelyn jumped.

  “Uhh, thanks, George. Sorry, must have dozed off,” she said, thankful that the loyal family driver did not ask questions.

  She stepped out of the car into a swarm of people: coming and going, all fast, most staring into their phones, going about their business. This was New York. This was where she thrived. The sensation of purpose. The smell of asphalt and bodies crammed together. The gloomy darkness and chill of the late fall morning. The movement of the city air around her as she weaved her way through the crowd to push open the modern brass and glass doors of Locksley Enterprises.

  The difference between the lobby of Locksley Enterprises and outside world never ceased to amaze Evelyn. Here, inside her family’s empire, there was space. White, well lit, and smelling of pine cleaner with touches of copper and sage, the offices were a stark contrast to the city. Her father had made sure of that.

  “We want our clients to believe they’ve entered a sanctuary. A place where they can relax. The city, while exhilarating, is not the best place to do a deal. It’s too rushed, too anxious, and too dark. Our clients need light, space to think, and time if we are to succeed. They will find it here,” James had explained when they remodeled the building years ago.

  Everyone in the business world thought her father was crazy then. They asked dozens of times why would he waste money creating a beautiful office when it could be put in shareholders’ pockets or reinvested? But James Locksley had a knack for power dynamics that the doubters had failed to see. It was why at only forty-nine years old James was where he was.

  “Good morning, Miss Locksley,” a pretty girl with a posh English accent at the front counter smiled at her. “Might I send you up a coffee once you’re settled?”

  “Morning, Rose. That would be great. Thanks.”

  Rose nodded, the phone already in hand to call in the order.

  Blessedly, the elevator ride up to the fifty-first floor was nonstop and quiet. Evelyn loved that. A bit of quiet before what was sure to be a storm. She was going to need it today. The elevator dinged, and she stepped onto the executive floor.

  The top floor of the building was like the entrance but on steroids. Floor to ceiling windows provided the executives with a stunning view of the city. It gave their clients the impression that all was possible with Locksley Enterprises. Cubicles were forbidden. Instead, there were spacious offices with doors made of translucent Japanese paper framed in bronze. As a modern shoji, the doors provided enough material to give one privacy but still exude a sensation of lightness. Lush, leafy plants in warm copper pots lined the hallway, providing fresh air and color.

  This may be the only place in the city, besides the park, where Lily would be happy. The thought struck her out of nowhere and Evelyn sighed. For now, witches, mysterious ancient books, and other families don’t exist.

  She was about to open her office door when she glimpsed movement in the conference room. Stretching her neck, Evelyn peeked down the hall. She caught sight of her father and mother inside the glass enclosure at the end of the hall, opposite of her father’s office.

  James ran his hands through his dark hair and smiled sheepishly at Sonja, who was fixing James’s tie. The gestures were so familiar it made Evelyn’s heart swell. How did I not know they weren’t my biological parents? Evelyn’s sapphire eyes flitted over her mother’s petite frame, dark hair and eyes, nestled in a beautiful olive complexion. Evelyn looked nothing like James either. His chestnut brown hair, slitted gray-blue eyes, and thin frame gave an impression of a nimble wolf. None of her light coloring, curvy frame, or sensual features were in these people, yet she’d never doubted they were her blood. Did other people wonder? I guess it would be difficult not to.

  Evelyn had stayed with her parents in their Hampton home for a couple of days after her return from Ireland. She’d wanted to hear their side of the story and what they knew of the McKays, her biological family in Ireland, before retreating to the city apartment she shared with Vici. It was as Brigit said it would be. James and Sonja knew almost nothing of the McKays. To them, Evelyn had been a godsend for a young, hardworking power couple plagued by infertility. Even all those years ago they preferred to work with people they had a history with, and Sonja trusted few more than her college friend, Fiona Fallon. Sonja had thought it lucky that Fiona, Evelyn’s second cousin by blood, had taken a senior position at an Irish adoption agency. Lucky that there was a baby girl recently born and waiting for them. Lucky, that the birth family’s stipulations could be easily met.

  “We were the luckiest couple we knew,” Sonja had claimed when Evelyn asked of her adoption story.

  But Evelyn knew better.

  There had been no luck involved. Just as there had been no adoption agency, only a family of witches hoping to hand out three daughters to people who could provide well and keep them safe. Evelyn found herself wanting to correct her parents. To inform them on who they were in partnership with. How most of what they believed about her heritage, and the world in general, was one big lie. But first, she had to out herself as a witch. Soon, she thought as she made her way to her desk and extracted a slim gold notepad from her briefcase before heading down the hall.

  James opened the conference room door at her approach.

  “Evelyn. Come in,” he said, his gray eyes crinkling at the corners. “Now that we’re all here, we can begin.” James motioned down the long table.

  Evelyn twitched as she took in the figure in the room she had not seen from the hallway. He was young, only a few years older than her, though his stance suggested otherwise. Tall, slender, and well-built, the man filled any space in the room not taken up by the large personalities of Evelyn and her parents. He looked up, saw her standing in the doorway, and with a closed-lip smile walked forward and extended a hand. Evelyn slammed down sturdy mind barriers—it was a self-imposed rule she’d devised for business interactions to keep them fair—before clasping his hand. Their skin touched for only a second before she pulled away.

  What was that? She caught the man’s playful blue eyes.

  “Sorry about that,” he said shaking his hand and extending it once more. “I’m Roman. Roman Simons. Didn’t mean to shock you. It’s a surprise anything can carry electricity in here, what with all the glass and paper decor.”

  Evelyn nodded and took his hand again.

  “Evelyn Locksley.” She tried to concentrate on Roman’s strong handshake rather than the alluring, peppery scent of cloves.

  “Evelyn recently returned from a trip to Ireland. We’re so glad that your time in the city overlapped. We think you two will find much that you can agree on,” Sonja said taking her seat, her eyes trained on Evelyn.

  “Ahh, Ireland. A charming country. I have familial ties there. Dad and I try to get back at least once every year, go hunting, feel the blood of our forefathers pound in our veins. You know, manly bonding. Too bad we haven’t made it yet this year, what with the company growing so fast and all.” As Roman spoke a slight twang arose, and Evelyn’s ears perked up.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Nashville,” Roman admitted, a blush accentuating his high cheekbones. “But don’t tell my father when you meet him that you caught onto the accent. He tried to train it out of us as kids. He likes to put on the big city persona. Thinks somehow losing the accent makes us appear to be better businessman. Truth is, he has a harder time covering up his accent than me.”

  Evelyn stifled a giggle. “Fake it till you make it.” The words escaped her before she could catch herself. Where is this shit coming from? And did I just giggle in a meeting? An unfamiliar heat crept up her neck and Evelyn realized she was blushing. She looked at her father, hoping he'd be able to set the meeting back
on track.

  The grin on James’s face said it all. There was a reason he had wanted her here, and it wasn’t all work related.

  “Well, now that everyone knows each other, what do you say we get on to business?” James said correctly interpreting her glower.

  They emerged two hours later, having achieved more than Evelyn expected despite her humiliating performance. She couldn’t think of a single other meeting where she’d added less value. Reading figures off charts was about all she had been good for. Probably because she didn’t have to make eye contact with Roman or her parents.

  How could they embarrass me like that? She slammed her notebook on her desk. She hated being out of control in the two arenas she excelled at: business and men.

  Don’t they realize I have more to worry about than men?

  She shook her head at the absurdity of her own question. Of course they don’t. I still haven’t told them my plans to go back to Ireland. Or the reason why. With that she turned and strode out the door to her father’s office.

  Her steps softened as she drew closer and peeked in. Roman was gone. They were alone.

  “Evie! That went well, didn’t it?” James jumped from his seat as Evelyn slid his door open.

  “Depends on what your meaning of well is. Why didn’t you tell me this was some type of weird setup?”

  James and Sonja locked eyes and Evelyn read the words that flowed between them as clearly as if she’d been reading their minds with her mind magic.

  Guilty, guilty, guilty.

  “To be fair, darling, we didn’t plan it this way. Roman’s father was set to come instead.”

  “But you would have known days ago. Yesterday, at the very least, when you three went over the preliminaries.”

  James winced.

  Guilty again.

  “You’re right,” her mother said, leaning back into her chair, her fingers tented beneath her chin. “We should have told you we found Roman extremely charming and the type of man we want you with. Probably that he was young, and handsome, too, but when has that ever mattered?” Sonja raised her eyebrows. “You always have the upper hand with men. I see it at every society function we attend. After I spoke with Roman yesterday I’ll admit, I hoped you’d take to him. Even date him once we finalized his accounts and set them to automation so it didn’t violate company protocol. But I wasn’t about to make a big deal over something that may be nothing.”

  Evelyn studied her mother. No doubt Sonja was telling the truth. It didn’t make Evelyn feel less humiliated, but at least the air was clear now.

  “Alright,” Evelyn said dropping into a chair next to her mother. “As long as we’re being honest now, I have something to say.”

  Her parents nodded.

  “I have to go back to Ireland soon. I’m not sure for how long and it’s not fair that Vicencia gets bogged down with all my work. I’ll be there for the foreseeable future so you’ll have to hire someone capable to help.” Her heart hurt saying the words.

  “What do you mean foreseeable future?” James asked, his eyes hardening.

  “Are you moving there?” Sonja bit her lip and drew her brows together.

  “I . . . no. There are things I have to work on with my family there. Things I can’t do from New York.” Why can’t I say it? I’m a witch and I have to train to save the world. How hard can it be?

  She opened her mouth, but the words stayed lodged deep inside.

  “That complicates things,” James said leaning forward in his chair. “Your advancement within the company, for one thing. Especially if you don’t know when you’ll be back. And that’s not even taking into account our current situation.”

  “What situation?”

  “The one where Roman has asked to work with you as his lead account manager on this project. I hope he’ll still be amenable to working with us once he learns your exiting. It’s a large deal for Locksley Enterprises.”

  Evelyn’s stomach hardened. She’d seen the numbers and knew how large a deal it was for them. If Roman’s company kept expanding at its current rate, it meant hundreds of millions to billions in added revenue every year.

  A battle broke out inside Evelyn. The business woman in her jumped at the chance to prove herself. To grow her father’s company in a way that with their average clients could take years. To be the one who took Locksley Enterprises to the next level.

  The witch was cautious.

  From what Brigit told them after the battle between Evelyn’s witchy family and the vampires in Alexandria, the triplets were nowhere near as prepared as they should be to face their foes. Evelyn knew she should be in Ireland training and learning magic. She didn’t want to fall behind in her training and be the weakest of the three. Especially, now that they'd lost the element of surprise and secrecy.

  Evelyn shivered as Brigit’s ominous words of warning that they should be battle ready at any moment came rushing back to her. That Brigit had only been willing to give them two weeks with their adoptive families before returning to Fern Cottage spoke volumes. And Evelyn was all too aware her time in New York was almost up. Brigit probably wouldn’t have let us leave Fern Cottage at all if Lily hadn’t been so deep in mourning. Not after the horrors they saw in Alexandria. But I don’t want to disappoint dad either . . .

  She hated letting her father down. James Locksley, the man she had looked up to all her life. A man who had given so much of himself to his company and yet always managed to put Evelyn and Sonja first. A father who was annoyingly supportive when it came to Evelyn becoming acquainted with her birth family. The one person who helped them get to Alexandria to try to save Lily’s kidnapped family member from the vampires, no questions asked, when it seemed impossible. I can’t do that to him.

  "I’ll stay to help with the Simons account, but only until we get the initialization plan off the ground and running. A month, two at the absolute most. After that, someone else will have to take over for the next few months before automation. It will take at least that long at their current growth rate to stabilize. And it can’t be Vici, she’s already got enough. Hire someone and I can supervise remotely until they are comfortable taking the reins.”

  James smiled, “That’s our girl. Roman will be pleased. He took a liking to you.”

  “And us trying to set you up is a moot point, now that you’re taking an extended break. You won’t have time to fall for him,” Sonja teased, though Evelyn could tell she was trying to put on a happy face at the news of her daughter leaving again.

  Evelyn returned her father’s smile as her stomach flipped uncontrollably. How am I going to tell Brigit? And, even worse, Lily? We’ve finally gotten on semi-even ground and now I’m abandoning her for two months? And I still have to tell everyone I’m a witch . . .

  Evelyn closed her eyes briefly. One thing at a time. “Thanks, Dad. Have Natalia send Roman my information, will you? I’m late to meet Vici for lunch.” She turned to leave, feeling even more confused than when she’d arrived at the office that morning.

  Tradition and Troubles

  “You’re back!” Sara cried, engulfing Lily in a hug tinged with the faint scent of the sage bundles Sara burned during meditation. “It was so weird here without you. Our room felt too big.”

  Lily smiled at her sister’s crooked grin and bright copper eyes. I didn’t expect coming back to feel this good.

  “How are you? I bet you were happy Gwenn picked you up instead of Morgane. Less chatter after such a long flight.” Sara winked and took Lily’s small duffle from her hands and guided her down the hallway.

  “Feeling a little better, thanks. And as much as I like Morgane and know her picking me up would have been more convenient, I agree Gwenn being there was a pleasant surprise. It was nice to have another earth witch in the car, sensing that I needed quiet. Gwenn has always been so in tune with my needs.”

  Sara nodded as she pushed open the door to their shared bedroom.

  Lily stopped dead in her tracks.


  “Do you like it?” Sara whispered, brows knitted together.

  Their room had undergone a complete renovation in the two weeks Lily had been recovering and healing with her adoptive family in Oregon. She gawked at the sage duvet, warm cherry wood side table and dresser, and reupholstered green wingback chair that sat next to its tartan twin. The old carpet was gone, replaced with shiny wood floors and sheepskin rugs below the beds. Walking to her side of the room, Lily felt the warmth and love that had gone into creating the space. The soft green of moss and swaths of naked wood put her at ease as if she was sitting in a forest. A photo collage of her Oregon and Irish family hung in a place of honor above her bed. Best of all was the decorative divider running the length of the room creating the illusion of separate living spaces.

  “How did you manage to get all this done?”

  “It was Mom’s idea. She thought our room should reflect our personalities a bit more. We didn’t get as much studying done as I thought we would while you were gone. We mostly did this.”

  Lily tilted her head trying to discern how she felt about Brigit’s title change in her absence. She had no qualms with Sara calling Brigit, Mom. She was after all their biological mother, and Lily could even see why it would feel natural to Sara. As a child Sara hadn’t had the traditional, loving mother figure. As a result she’d bonded to Brigit and Brigit’s three sisters, Gwenn, Mary, and Aoife, faster than Lily or Evelyn had.

  Mom. Lily closed her eyes and repeated the word three more times. To her surprise, both Rena’s, the woman who had raised her, and Brigit’s images arose. She opened her eyes again and smiled. The brief exercise had told her more than weeks of internal debate could have. Sara’s right. We may have only known each other four months but they’ve been intense and unlike any other months in my life. All the women here have literally put their lives on the line for me. Brigit feels just as much a mother to me as Rena. I think it’s time to let her know.