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  Had someone just been here?

  My stomach curled in on itself.

  A prickling sensation in the back of my neck warned me we were not alone.

  “Someone’s coming,” I said.

  Cullen stepped back outside, still cradling Alana and I followed him. My eyes scanned the woods.

  “Go back inside, Aeval.”

  A light appeared through the forest, and Cullen stopped speaking and jerked. His jaw gaped, worked soundlessly, and I cried out as I saw the beam of light flood Alana’s chest.

  I reached for her, and her eyes fluttered. Whirling, I scanned the trees, and then I saw her.

  Her dark hair was blacker than I’d ever seen it and her pupils were so large I almost couldn’t tell her irises were brown. My very best friend in the world stood there among the pines, but she looked older and different, somehow. Her hands glowed. She was sending the beam of light into Alana’s chest.

  “Leslie,” I whispered. “You came, too.”

  In a heartbeat she ran to me and we embraced like sisters.

  “What in the name of God are ye doin’ here?!” Cullen demanded. “The book?” He laid Alana down and stepped forward. “It pulled you through as well, but you didn’t have a body to come back to.”

  “Actually, I did,” she answered. “My name is Laasya Lovari.”

  She pulled the book from her satchel. “Come on, let’s take Alana inside and lay her on the cot. She should be healed soon and I’ll do my best to explain.”

  Epilogue

  Witch Adventure to Begin

  Dublin, Ireland, 2031

  I took my pumpkin cookie and dunked it in my coffee. Nibbling off a corner as my own worries nibbled at me. I glanced around the bookshop. Where the hell was Leslie, or Laasya, or whatever the heck her name was now?

  To my right, Alana was cleaning the front window. She’d already wiped it down twice. We were both filled with nervous energy. Five days had passed since we’d escaped the noose. Once we were safely inside the cottage, Leslie had explained to Cullen and I who she was and filled in the pieces that were missing from Sandra’s version—like how Leslie had put a failsafe into the curse so that she, too, would be reborn. After Alana and I had recuperated for a couple days, Leslie had performed the ritual to send us home. I hadn’t heard from her since and that was three days ago.

  “Mum! Ye’ve got to bloody well see this.” Alana said and pulled back the velvet drapes.

  Leslie walked toward Mysterious Adventures in Ink. She was carrying a massive birdcage along with some other parcels.

  “Mum! What has she got?”

  “That’s a Raven. Sandra Brun’s familiar, to be exact.”

  “Remus, the birdman. Why is she after bringin’ him here?”

  “I don’t know. She must have tracked him down. I guess we know where she’s been.”

  The little bell jingled as Leslie stepped inside. “The Doctor is in and making house calls.”

  I ignored her smile. “Where have you been?”

  My stomach tightened when she looked away. Something was going on.

  I came out from behind the counter to look at the ornate cage.

  She opened the little wire door. The Raven cawed, flitted up to my shoulder, and then flew to one of the higher shelves.

  “Why’d ye let it out?” Alana questioned. “That thing is evil.”

  “No. He was Sandra’s familiar, but he was also a victim of her mother’s magic. A sad story really—he was once a man in love with Alexandra but her mother didn’t approve so she transformed him in order to keep them apart.”

  “Wow, I guess maybe Alexandra wasn’t so bad when you considered her mother. Won’t he want revenge for Sandra’s death?”

  “He’s just a raven now unless I take pity on him and keep him for myself, or find a way to reverse the spell. Then he’ll have to do my bidding.” Leslie carried the cage to the corner, and began to decorate it with amulets as a store display.

  “Where were you?” I asked again, more forcefully.

  “I was with Peter.” She replied.

  “Peter? The silver fox with the glasses…the guy from London?”

  Leslie nodded and set a pastry box down. “Anyone hungry?”

  “Are those cupcakes?” Alana asked, interrupting my chance to pry.

  “I think we’ve all had enough cupcakes.”

  “They’re pastries from across the road.”

  Alana gingerly removed one of the éclairs from the box and put it on a napkin. “Ye know, I still don’t understand how ye were pulled through the portal with us,” She said, licking the chocolate from her finger.

  Leslie closed her eyes, and then opened them quickly. “I’ve been thinking about that too. Sandra nicked me during the blood ritual when she handed me the knife. At the time, I didn’t think it mattered,” Leslie added. “After all, the spell required a body to travel into.”

  “Little did you know you had one?” I said.

  “So ye were the high priestess from Sandra’s story—Sandra’s aunt. That explains why she was always so hostile to ye and why ye were able to get us home. So much for my magical debut; all I did was complicate matters,” Alana said.

  “Well, actually there’s more to it than that.”

  I glanced over at Alana, who frowned and then bit into the chocolaty confection with gusto. She chewed for a moment and then went on. “I feel so bad about it all … I can’t imagine why I chose to get involved with another woman’s man. It just doesn’t seem like somethin’ I would do.”

  Leslie reached over and patted her hand. “Of course not, dear. It’s not your fault. We evolve through our lifetimes and you are not the same as you once were. None of us are.”

  “Besides, it was a complicated situation,” I added. “It didn’t help that you were manipulated by Alexandra and seduced by Vilhem. Man, I can’t believe Liam was my father—reincarnated. That is just plain creepy to think about. I thought of Sandra being stabbed by the Priest and felt a cold chill, had she died? At least Alexandra had the decency to exclude the Priest from the curse—I can’t imagine what he would have been like.”

  “What about now? Who are we?” Alana asked.

  “I don’t know about you, but as I understand it, I was—or maybe I still am—the High Priestess…a little rusty, but a witch all the same.”

  “Remember when you gave me the book in the library that day? Who knew it would lead to all of this?”

  “Not me,” she said and smiled.

  “What do we do with it—the book?” I asked. “I love books as much as the next bookstore owner but that one only seems to bring trouble.”

  “That’s why I was with Peter. I just might have a solution.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. He’s a curator from London. He’s asked me to come and work for him there.”

  Alana looked from me to Leslie. “Why would you do that?”

  Leslie bit her lip.

  “What about the shop?” I asked.

  “I think you and Alana can handle it. I think it’s probably time I started living a life of my own. I could add the book to the museum collection. It would be safe and sound.”

  Tears surfaced. When I really thought about it, I realized what Leslie said was true. She had been looking out for me in one way or another since we’d met, even as kids. I was always center stage and she was always off in the wings protecting me.

  “That’s a perfect idea,” I agreed. “London’s not that far away and Cullen’s always travelling there for business. I’ll just start to tag along more.”

  “It is not,” Alana said.

  “What?” I asked, surprised by Alana’s childish outburst. It had been strange to see her as a grown woman in the past—even to think of her as the strong and protective, proud woman I’d met in the little house in the woods—and yet our dynamics here were just the same. Well, maybe they were a little more cordial but she was still sixteen.

  “I mean Leslie shouldn�
�t go and I don’t want the book to go, either. I’m a witch and that’s our heritage and I don’t want to hide from it. Da’s always saying a craft is an enemy if not learned. I want to embrace our power. Let’s join a coven or—better yet—let’s form one right here. We can meet and practice and eventually train others here at Mysterious Adventures in Ink.”

  I took a sip of my coffee and turned to Leslie. “You’re the High Priestess, what do you think?”

  Leslie rubbed her face with her hands. She looked worn and tired, making me immediately regret my comment. “Being a witch is never easy. We may not have to hide anymore but the tide can always turn.”

  “True.”

  “Then again, denying who we really are isn’t good, either.”

  The door jingled and in stepped Cullen. He gave Alana a hug and nodded to Les before returning his gaze to me.

  My heart thudded and my palms started to sweat. He’d taken up a position as my shadow since we’d returned. I’d had to barter with him just to come to the store alone.

  “Stall it over, Aeval. Our reservations are confirmed and the truck is packed and waiting.”

  “What? No. What are you up to?” I asked. “We just got home.”

  “Annual date weekend, Mum. Remember?”

  I looked at Cullen. Surely he would understand if I didn’t want to go away right now.

  “It’s just for the weekend, Sophia,” Cullen bartered.

  “We can’t leave Alana.”

  “Mum. Please. I’m not a wee baby. Ye go every year and I’ll be grand as long as the two of ye promise to be back by Monday.”

  I debated my options. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “I packed yer red dress. The really low cut one,” Leslie said and winked.

  “But…”

  “Alana will be fine,” Leslie added. “I’ll be with her. We have some catching up to do.”

  I recalled now that Sandra had said they’d been the best of friends in that life. It was Lasaya who had arranged for Elena to help her cousin, thinking she’d only be there in the capacity of a healer and nursemaid. That explained the bond Leslie and Alana shared. At times I’d been jealous of their relationship but I could see now what a magical friendship it truly was.

  “Do ye think we could pull off that teleportation spell that’s in the book, Les? We could pop in and say hello at dinner.” Alana suggested.

  “Get up the yard with that now! Don’t ye dare pop in on us,” Cullen said in a low and growly voice. “Believe me, it’s for yer own good.”

  Leslie smiled and shook her head.

  “I think that’s a little big for us right now, but maybe we could study some of the other spells. Actually, I have a gift for you and your mother.” She pulled two books out of her bag.

  “I think the reason Alana had trouble with the spell during the séance was because it was not her magic. The Lovari’s Book of Rochus was my family’s grimoire and this one is yours. Elena buried the book under the hearth when she thought she’d be accused of witchcraft. She sent me a coded message so I could help Sofia.” She held out the black book.

  “How was I able to work the spells?” I asked.

  “Most likely because either Rochus or I accompanied with you.

  “You weren’t there every time.” I clarified.

  “No, it’s not that only Lovari’s can work their spells, but magic is finicky and when the grimoire is not your own, the spell more than often goes awry.” Leslie replied.

  That made a lot of sense to me.

  “Why are there two books?” Alana asked.

  “The blue one is Elena’s journal—I know you have many questions and I thought perhaps you’d like to hear some of the answers in your own words.”

  Alanna nodded and accepted the book.

  “There’s something in there that she wrote to you as well, Sophia.”

  “I will not be opening that book any time soon. Just go ahead and tell me.”

  “Fair enough.” Leslie smirked. “Turns out that Vilhelm may not have been your father. Elena was married and her husband died. She had a feeling that she was pregnant when she left for Hunedoara, but she didn’t know for sure.”

  I glanced over at Cullen to see if he shared my relief at the news. I still secretly harbored the fear that Alana was Liam’s and if Liam were my father, even in a past life…well that was just too messed up to think about.

  “Oh no ye don’t.” Cullen said.

  “What?”

  “I know that look, ye crafty wee devil. Ye’re ready to dive into those books.”

  “Damn, he was good and he was damn good-looking too. Maybe some alone time with him would be beneficial.

  Too late to protest anyway—he’d scooped me up in his arms and carried me out the door while Leslie and Alana stood waving.

  As soon as we made it across the street I tilted my face to his, and his mouth came down on mine. I tingled from my head to my toes, happiness coursing through my veins. Then he grew serious.

  “I know what you were thinking back there, Aeval.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, and ye mustn’t think it because she’s mine. Alanna is my child.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Well, for one thing—she’s the spitting image of me.

  I did have to give him that. Seeing Elena as a grown woman had been a shock. She was basically the female version of Cullen, but that wasn’t complete proof. “Many kids look like their aunts and uncles.” I replied.

  “Ah well, this one looks like her Da.” He smirked. “I asked Sandra right before she passed on.”

  “When you ran to help her, you mean?”

  “I knew that ye needed to know the truth of it, whether ye admitted it or not. And she confirmed that Liam never raped you. She made that up so that you would give the book to her.”

  Though I couldn’t cry, I felt the sting of tears behind my eyes; it was so good, so very right to hear those words. I’d always known the truth inside. Liam had not violated me, and Alana was in fact Cullen’s baby, and yet to hear those two facts confirmed lifted the pit of darkness from my stomach.

  “Where are you taking me—off on another adventure?” I asked with a grin as he set me in the front seat of his truck.

  Cullen made a noise in his throat. His eyes were intently on me. “I’m takin’ ye to bed, Aeval—that is the only adventure I’m interested in ever again.”

  About the author

  Rachael Stapleton lives in a Second-Empire Victorian home with her husband and two children in Ontario, Canada and enjoys writing in the comforts of aged wood and arched dormers.

  To learn more about Rachael Stapleton, visit her online at: RachaelStapleton.com

  Time Traveling bibliophile series

  Temple of Indra’s Jewel

  Temple of Indra’s Curse

  Temple of Indra’s Lies

  Temple of Indra’s Witch

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  A Penning Trouble Mystery Series:

  Murder, She Floats

  Murder, She Slopes

  Haunted House Flippers Inc.

  Cookies, Corpses and the Deadly Haunt

  Time Traveling Bibliophile Mystery Series:

  Temple of Indra’s Jewel

  Temple of Indra’s Curse

  Temple of Indra’s Lies

  Temple of Indra’s Witch

  Coming Soon: A Bohemian Murder Manor Mystery Series

  Acknowledgments

  Above all, be the heroine of your life, not the victim.~ Nora Ephron

  Many thanks to my hometown cheerleading squad—people like my parents, my in-laws, my siblings, my aunts and uncles, my cousins and my friends who buy my books and share my stories, and who most importantly love me. Writ
ing, for me, is the easy part, but it’s the support I get from all of you that gives me the courage to share—the courage to be the heroin of my own life.

  Thanks to my writers group who offer up fireside chats, and creative minds that never cease to spark my inner peace, a feeling that I can hardly put into words—imagine that. Special mention certainly belongs once again to the awe-inspiring Susan Croft and Rebecca Medcalf for their fantastic catches. Both of you are always there at the end of my email, ready and willing to work through a character’s hang-up and I love you for it.

  Lastly, to my own personal dreamwalkers, my Gramma & Grampa Jackson, my Aunt Marcy, my Great Gramma Trimble and Ruth; I’ve heard you whispering words of encouragement for years. Some of you I got my love of stories from, all of you inspired characters and I hope I make you proud. I miss you daily, and I sure hope you can read my books in heaven.