Institute of Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Druid #1)

“Thanks.”


She smiled and drifted away, disappearing through the wall.

I returned to the bathroom where I’d discarded my clothes. I cringed as I stepped into my old underwear, then pulled on the dress that Mildred had recommended.

I turned to the mirror. “Wow.”

I looked like Mildred. Like I’d stepped out of a time capsule. Not my usual style, but it was clean, so I’d take it.

I hurried out to the kitchen, which I found by scent alone. It was beautiful, looking just as I’d imagine a French country kitchen would look. Fresh flowers sat on the counter, no doubt courtesy of the kooky woman who managed the house.

Lachlan, his dark hair still wet from his shower, stood at the counter, cutting a block of cheese into slices. He looked up, then smiled when he caught sight of the dress.

It was the first smile he’d directed my way, and it was as devastatingly sexy as I’d imagined it would be. Heat coiled inside me, and I wanted to pat my cheeks to make it go away.

“I see that Mildred approves of you,” he said.

“I think so. You have quite the roommate there.”

He nodded. “I didn’t realize I was getting a ghost when I bought the place, but I didn’t have the heart to evict her.”

“I think she spies on you.”

“I think so, too. I try to ignore it.” He picked up the tray of cheese and sliced meats. “I hope you like a cheese tray. Valerie, the housekeeper, dropped it off. Along with salad and bread.”

“I’m always interested in cheese. Who isn’t?” I sat at the table.

He set the tray down, then returned for the bread and salad. ”Wine all right?”

I doubted he had any cheap champagne on hand, so I nodded. “Thanks. It’ll probably put me to sleep.”

“I doubt you need any help with that.”

I put on a mock-offended voice. “What, do I look tired?”

“You look lovely, actually.” Surprise flashed across his face, as if he couldn’t believe he’d said that. Then all expression disappeared, and he sat across from me.

I blinked at him, trying to understand him.

I came up short, so I sipped the wine instead. He built himself a sandwich that looked pretty manly. Lots of meat, some cheese, and two huge hunks of bread. I picked at mine, but quickly devoured at least two people’s worth of cheese.

Once my hunger was sated, I looked at him. “Have you always been so powerful?”

He frowned. “No. But the potential was always there.”

“How’d you develop it?”

“Practice.” There was more story there, but he wasn’t going to reveal it. Not now, at least. “How did you really end up at the Protectorate? Did they find you?”

“They did.” I couldn’t tell him the whole truth, but perhaps a part of it? “My mother died when we were young. Thirteen.” Murdered by those who hunted us because we were Dragon Gods, but I wouldn’t tell him that. “She had a feeling she would die young, so she wrote to them, telling them about us. That we’d need help.”

“I’m so sorry.” Concern flashed in his eyes, and his hand twitched. Almost as if he wanted to touch me in comfort.

Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

Truth was, I didn’t think I’d turn down any kind of touching from him.

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t. The pain was still sharp, but I didn’t want to start crying. The Nile was my favorite river, and also my preferred way of coping. Denial could get one a long way.

“And the Protectorate came and got you?” he asked.

“No. They tried, because that’s what they do—help people in terrible situations like ours.” Though I wouldn’t reveal quite all the details. Becoming orphans at thirteen was terrible enough. I doubted he’d pry. “But by the time they got to the homestead in Alaska where my mother had been raising us, we were gone. We had no way to survive there, so we left.”

We’d also been running from those who hunted us, though we hadn’t known who they were at the time. We’d spent our childhoods running and hiding from an unknown threat.

“Then what?” he asked.

“Eventually, we made it to Death Valley Junction, the supernatural town in California.”

“It’s like the Old West, isn’t it? I’ve heard of it.”

“It’s just like the Old West. Straight out of a John Wayne movie. We got odd jobs, and an older man helped us out some. Uncle Joe. Eventually, we got ourselves the buggy—an armored monster truck—and started doing runs across Death Valley, delivering outlaws to Hider’s Haven.”

He whistled low under his breath. “An armored monster truck that you call the buggy?”

“Yes. It’s my one true love. Besides my sisters. And my painting.”

“That’s a lot of true loves.”

“I have a lot of love to give.”

He gave me an undecipherable look, as if he didn’t know what to make of that, then said, “Driving across Death Valley is insanely dangerous.”

“It is. But I’m brave. Good with weapons, too. We were the only ones willing to do the job. So you can see why the Protectorate wanted to hire us when they finally found us after all those years.”

“I can. You’re a woman of many talents.”

The compliment warmed me, enough that I wanted to lean across the table and press my lips to his. But then, who was I kidding? I’d been wanting to do that for a while now.

I shoved back from the table, unwilling to make any kind of move. “Well, that’s it for me. I need a few hours of rest, or I will fall over.”

“I’ll call the blood sorceresses in the morning,” he said. “We’ll get a lead on the mage who took the spell, then we’ll go to the Protectorate and see if they have any answers about our missing magic.”

I nodded. Damn, I hoped they had the answers we sought. Because we really needed them.



I woke up at dawn to the sight of Mildred sitting on the edge of my bed, staring hard at me.

I jumped, my heart thundering. “Holy fates, Mildred.”

Happiness spread over her face. “Did I scare you?”

“Yep.” I nodded. “Plenty. You’re a fabulous ghost.”

She stood, preening. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” I climbed out of bed, keeping the sheet wrapped around me. I’d had no nightclothes, and I hadn’t wanted to borrow Mildred’s. Wearing a ghost’s clothes was really only something I wanted to do when absolutely necessary.

“You’d better hurry,” Mildred said. “There are guests in the kitchen. Two women. A little scary.”

“All right, thanks.” I shuffled off to the bathroom, dragging my sheet like a tail. It didn’t take long to get cleaned up and put on the dress again. My own clothes were so stiff from dried blood that they could have stood up on their own.

Mildred was gone by the time I made it out of the bedroom. The scent of coffee drew me towards the kitchen, along with voices.

When I reached the kitchen, I spotted two new faces. Familiar faces, actually.

A blonde woman and a black-haired woman sat at the kitchen table, both looking like they were dressed up for a night out on the town. The black-haired one wore a plunging black dress dotted with black crystals. The same gems ornamented her tall bouffant, and her eyes were coated in so much black makeup it looked like a mask. Her lips were blood red.

Mordaca, the blood sorceress from Magic’s Bend. She was famous. And so was her sister, Aerdeca.

Aerdeca wore her signature white. But instead of the power suit I was used to seeing, she wore a white evening dress. Somehow, it was classy and scary, all at once. Her blonde hair slicked like water over her shoulders, and her blue eyes were cold.

“Ana.” Mordaca’s voice was raspy—the pack-a-day for forty years kind of raspy. Given that she couldn’t be over thirty, it had to be natural. Her dark brows rose. “You’re helping Lachlan.”

I smiled as I went to the counter. “That I am. Thanks for coming to help with this.”

They were the ones I would have called if I’d had to, but their prices made me cringe.

“He caught us just as we were heading out for the night.” Aerdeca’s voice was sweeter than Mordaca’s, sounding like the trilling of birds. But it’d be stupid to assume she was any nicer or less dangerous.