“Don’t be sorry. I’m not.” The hunger in his eyes had heat pooling low in her belly. Damn. Drake’s desire was plain for her to see.
“No one has ever looked at me the way you do.”
A crease lined his brow. “What do you mean?”
She pried herself from the intensity of his gaze and knelt down beside the trunk, lifting out some hand-knit baby sweaters and a few more photos. Anything to keep from making eye contact.
“I mean, I’m different.” She shrugged, reaching for a yellowed envelope. “My whole life people have stared at me. Bullies in school called me a ghost and a freak.” She stole a glance up at him. “But you’ve never made it an issue.”
He knelt down beside her. “Because it’s not. You’re one of a kind in a world that mass produces everything.” He shook his head, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. “You’re beautiful, Heather.”
She couldn’t find words, so she pressed her lips to his, allowing her touch to speak for her. He drew back slowly with a sexy smile. “Let’s find whatever we were sent up here to discover.”
She took a slow breath and nodded, already aching to kiss him again. Focus. She returned to the flashlight app on her phone and shined it on the envelope.
Gram’s shaky script stained the front. My Sweet Heather.
“What is it?” Drake asked.
“I’m not sure.” She stood and handed him her phone. “Hold the light for me?”
He took it with a nod as she carefully slid the brittle paper out of the envelope. She reached for her grandmother’s energy, but for now, she and Drake were alone. After unfolding the note, she held it under the light, skimming her grandmother’s letter.
My Angel, Heather—
If you’re reading this note, then your mother’s dream is coming to fruition. She saw love and danger, two sides of the same coin. I promised her I would contact you and send you to the attic if this day ever came, but I pray this letter will never be read.
Your sister has always pined for your gift, for your power, and for this house. Our home was built on a powerful ley line, Angel. Ashley can sense this. She always has.
We crafted a talisman for you. Keep it with you at all times. When the banshee wails for you, she will return empty-handed. I wish we could do more to protect you from this fate.
Remember, you are loved, and we are with you always.
Gram
The hair on the back of Heather’s neck rose as she passed the letter to Drake. “Mom knew.”
He frowned as he read the note. “I thought she didn’t have the gift.”
“I always suspected she had a touch of clairvoyance, but I never knew for sure.”
A crease formed on his brow as he met her eyes. “She thought your sister means you harm.”
“We don’t get along very well, but Ashley would never hurt me. Not physically anyway.”
“Can she hear the dead?”
“No.” Heather knelt back down to the trunk. “But she used to dabble in magic when we were kids. Love spells and sleeping potions mostly. She’d probably deny it now.”
Her fingertips brushed a bump along the bottom lining of the trunk. She traced the line with her fingernail and carefully peeled back the paper to reveal a small velvet pouch. Her pulse raced as she opened the drawstrings. Reaching into the bag, she withdrew a simple gold chain with a tiny crystal angel pendant. She held it up to the light, marveling at the red glow in the center.
“Did you find something?” Drake asked.
Heather wasn’t sure yet. Witchcraft wasn’t really her wheelhouse, but growing up in Savannah she’d come in contact with some of the practitioners over the years. Unlike New Orleans, voodoo wasn’t a tourist attraction in Savannah, but the conjurers still existed here. Buried under the Georgia heat, myth and magic blended together like a sweet mint julip.
And although she’d need to get confirmation, she was almost sure the heart of this pendant contained a drop of her Gram’s blood.
She cleared her throat. “I don’t know, but I bet one of the root doctors around here can tell me.” She unclasped the necklace and put it around her neck. The angel lay in the center of her chest just below her collarbone. She ran her fingertips over it and met Drake’s eyes. “Before you got here tonight, my sister stopped by.”
He folded the letter, a muscle in his cheek tensing. “Did she hurt you?”
“Like I said, not physically. But she is trying to take this house.” Dread knotted in Heather’s stomach. “She’s got an offer on the house.”
He raised a brow. “You’re not going to sell it, are you?”
“No. I could be an idiot for passing it up.” She worried her lower lip. “Maybe she does know this house is on ley lines and told Ian Flynn.”
Drake’s gaze snapped to her face. “Captain Flynn is trying to buy your house?”
“Captain?” Were they talking about the same guy? “Ian Flynn is the owner of Flynn Enterprises. The commercial real estate company in Atlanta.”
Drake cursed under his breath and lifted his gaze to her face. “He was also the captain of the Sea Dog. He’s the one who gave the order to keep sailing during the storm that sank us. He’s captain in name only now. Colton owns the replica we built.”
“Wow.” She put the puzzle pieces together in her head. “You’re telling me he’s immortal, too?” Her head spun with questions, but instead she blurted out, “He’s offered us six million dollars for the house.”
“Don’t take it. He’s a greedy bastard with no love for Savannah’s history. My crew has fought for decades to keep him from destroying the historic district with his plans for new hotels and resorts. He’ll demolish everything and take your family’s history to see
