Magic ReclaimedA Calliope Jones novel
Coralie Moss
Copyright © 2019 by Coralie Moss
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, objects, and incidents herein are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual living things, events, locales, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Published internationally by Pink Moon Books, British Columbia, Canada.
ISBN 978-1-7752646-9-9
Created with Vellum
The entire MAGIC series owes its inception to Meghan Ciana Doidge, her husband, Michael, and an afternoon conversation over iced tea and Meghan’s magical gingersnap cookies.
Getting ‘Magic Reclaimed’ written and into the world could only have happened because a group of women held my boat steady at a time in my life when the waves were coming over the gunwales.
I dedicate this book to:
Yaffa Seraph, Tia Barber, Taralynn Moore, Taylor Fox, R.R. Taylor, Michelle McCraw, Meka James, Maureen Marshall, Marit Tinguely, Luna Joya, Lily Michaels, Lauren Accardo, LA Burroughs, Jessica Calla, Jeni Chappelle, Felicia Grossman, Evie Drae and E.C. Farrell.
Thank you.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Coralie Moss
Magic Redeemed (book #3)
Chapter 1
“I know what you are, Calliope.”
Officer Jack Kaukonen of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police planted himself at the end of my roughed-up gravel driveway, hands on his hips and chalky half-circles under his eyes. His unexpected presence at one o’clock in the morning was no social call.
“Jack,” I said, trying to keep my body language from broadcasting the maelstrom tugging me in multiple directions, “what are you talking about?” I shifted my weight to one leg and crossed my arms under my breasts, hoping a flash of cleavage would draw his attention away from the collection of Magicals keeping tabs from the kitchen window.
“I know you’re a witch.” He tapped the side of his nose. “An earth witch. Wolves have an acute sense of smell.”
Oh. A fraction of the internal storm quieted at his admission.
“Certain spells leave an olfactory residue, and my nose tells me there was a sorcerer here tonight.” He lifted his chin in the direction of the clumps of sod and the cluster of overturned tables and chairs littering my yard. “A powerful sorcerer. In addition…” He inhaled again, flared his nostrils, and squinted. “There were at least two otter shifters, three witches, a wolf, and a couple others I don’t recognize off the bat but let me get my nose to the ground and I will.”
“I had no idea, Jack.”
“No idea your party guests were Magicals?” he asked, shifting slightly on his boot-clad feet. His black work pants strained at the seams.
I chided myself for staring at his thighs. Eyes up, Calliope.
“No idea you were on the magical spectrum,” I answered. Generally, I could sense when I was in the presence of other Magicals, even prior to my recent initiation ceremonies. Jack had never popped up on my radar, which might have been another downside of the magic-muting tattoo I’d only recently gotten rid of.
When he glared at me and ran fingers through his close-cropped hair, I held his gaze. Now that he’d shared his secret, I waited to see if his animal side would show. “I’ve known you were a witch for a while, Calliope. Just never had a good opening line on the tip of my tongue.”
Yeah, Jack was a shifter all right. The wolf peeked out, amber facets shining in his eyes, and headed toward hopeful before making a U-turn back to Officer Jack.
Once I grasped that piece of the puzzle, the control he held over himself made a lot more sense. So did the zing zipping between us the first time he’d showed up at the house. I twined my fingers through the cords looped around my neck to remind myself what was at stake.
“I’m getting concerned,” he said. “This is the second time in two weeks I’ve been called out here because of a disturbance.”
“And the last time you were here, I told you—”
“You were lying, but I couldn’t to say anything in front of Lewis. My partner’s human.”
The last time Jack—and Lewis—had parked their RCMP-issued vehicle at the end of my driveway, a druid had just hauled my ex-husband and his twin brother out of the woods behind my house. The men had not come out quietly.
Rifling through my options, I decided I could present Jack with a partial truth. “I’ve been having some trouble with Doug. That night, he and his brother Roger thought it would be fun to harass me in my own backyard.”
“You could have called me for help.”
“A friend helped me strengthen the protective wards around the property. I figured the boys and I were okay.” I shrugged, tried to keep my expression nonchalant, and left out the bit about the friend being a druid with a wolfy side.
A woman’s voice called, “Calli!” from my house.
Jack’s gaze traced a line from my face to the deck fronting my A-frame. I swiveled on my heels and confirmed the voice was Rowan’s. She was a local OB/GYN doctor and witch. She was also one of my newest Magical friends.
“Everything’s okay,” I yelled, waving. “I’ll be right there.” The night air had dropped a good ten degrees since red-and-blue revolving lights had announced Jack’s arrival. I rubbed my upper arms and shivered. “Jack, I can handle the stuff with Doug. I promise.”
He gave my shoulder a brief squeeze. If my response trigger wasn’t so skittish, I might have leaned into the masculine solidity of his chest, let him wrap his arms around me, and confessed
