A small stream of power rose in the room, enough to raise the hair on his arms.
Graelen leaned across the desk to examine the card closely. “Uh, Ms. Gallagher—may I call you Rena?” She nodded her assent. “I don't see anything different about this card.” Although the increase in power concerned him. A civilian like her should not be able to have this affect. “It's been in our family for generations and, while it is a beautiful depiction, I don't see what has piqued your interest.” His hand reached for the card and brushed against hers for a brief moment. A whisper of power sparked through his arm and his heart stuttered in shock. Her sharp intake of breath told him she had felt it, too.
“There—there is a hidden story in these cards, and I believe this card is the key to the answers.”
Withdrawing his hand, he stared into her eyes. His power stirred through his body with it’s all too familiar seductive call, and he knew his eyes had darkened.
Danger.
Something about this woman was pulling at him.
“This—this card, when I touched it I felt something. A pull. As if being tugged into the scene on the card.”
He found himself physically drawn to her voice, her passion, as she reluctantly told him the story. The story of his family she had found depicted in the cards, the curse of he and his brothers lives.
Four male witches born every other generation. Two sets of twins bound to carry The Power through the family line, if they could avoid the seductive call of the darkness every time they used their powers. The combined power of the four would be unlike any other, but the cravings created from using their magick would darken their souls piece by piece until the ability to tell right from wrong would disappear, and the magick would quickly destroy their life forces.
Anger, greed, and lust, all luring them to the evil potential of their magick.
He watched her fidget nervously with the card, her agitation growing as she continued through the family story she had managed to decipher from a seemingly typical deck of cards.
“Until this card…” He sat forward placing his hand over hers, giving in to temptation as well as attempting to reassure her, to calm her obviously frazzled nerves. When his hand covered hers atop the Ten of Pentacles a streak of energy surged through her hand into his body, slamming him back in his chair and pushing it against the shelves behind him.
He gulped in air as magick flooded his body. In his fight to hold it in check he almost missed the difference. Instead of the dark weighty feel of his typical powers, this magick was light and bright with a different feel altogether.
What the fuck?
“It's true then? You’re a witch.” Her hands trembled as she knotted and twisted them together.
He wanted to deny her claim. To excise her from his house as quickly as possible before anything more happened. But as he sat there struggling to maintain his composure, a free flow of energy swept through his system, making it impossible to deny. He didn’t need a mirror to know his appearance had changed. Years of living and breathing magick twenty four seven had taught him a certain amount of control and in seconds this Ms. Gallagher had wiped that from him.
Without it his eyes turned black and his skin grew itchy and hot until he did something to expel the excess energy. Not to mention she sat in front of him staring—eyes wide in disbelief at the truth before her. She’d obviously come here knowing and just needed some evidence to prove her theory. So he’d play along—for now.
“Yes. I’m a witch, and the story you just told is my family's history.” With the last of his shredded control, he pulled his chair to the desk and leaned forward tapping the Ten of Pentacles with his finger. “And what exactly do you think is so important about this card? It's just a simple depiction of a flourishing wealthy family.”
“You're right. That's what I thought the first hundred times I looked at it as well. Until…” She bent down to rummage through her backpack, making the sexiest little grunting noises in apparent frustration, before finally pulling out a small magnifying glass. “Until I found something a little unusual. A symbol here in this spot.” She pointed to a family banner placed on the wall in the background.
Grae sighed. This was going nowhere. “Rena, that symbol simply represents one of the brothers. There are four of them throughout the card.”
She shook her head furiously. “Hold on. Let me finish. That's what I thought, too. But more research and digging into the symbol tell things differently. In the 1800s when your crest was developed, that symbol didn't stand for a witch but a different being all together. An empath.”
ChapterTwo
“What? That's not possible.” His patience appeared to wear thin. “There are four of those symbols in the family banners and they represent each male witch born to the curse. The damn curse that kept my brothers and me virtually apart since we became adults.” He slammed his fist down on the table, scattering the cards. “Ms. Gallagher, I don't know what game you're playing here but I've had enough.” He stalked around the desk and grabbed her arm.
His anger seared her body like the sharp edge of a knife thrust into her arm. The emotions poured through her as she tried to sift through his pain and anger of the suffering he and his brothers had endured over the years. The pent up frustrations slammed into her body with the force of a Mack truck, and spots appeared in her vision as the blood rushed from her head.
“What the hell?” He jerked his hand back from her arm as if he'd been burned. “What is going on here?” He shook his hand and arm, attempting to shake her off.
She wondered if he even realized that
