The Enchanted Crossroads: Enchanted by the Craft, #1

By Dora Blume

A Vengeful God. An army of evil warlocks. An inexperienced witch, the world's only hope...
 

As an introverted lawyer and daughter of a single mother, Kaira has learned that working hard and keeping her head down is how to succeed. Until her mother's death reveals a world shattering secret- she's the mage descendant of a powerful God. And he's come to claim her, so she can take her rightful place. 
 

Leif, the most powerful leader of the mage coven, rescues her from capture or certain death should she refuse her father. The spark between them is instant. He'll teach her how to be a witch. She'll teach him how to be a better leader. 
 

Running from a pissed off God, Kaira has to find the sisters she didn't know existed with powers she doesn't know how to use. As the fated pair risk their lives to find Kaira's sisters, they must decide to resist or embrace the simmering passion between them. Any distractions could have them meeting an early grave. 
 

Will she escape the clutches of her powerful father to find her sisters or will he capture her before the search even begins? 
 

The Enchanted Crossroads is the pulse-pounding first book in the Enchanted by the Craft urban fantasy series. If you like strong-willed heroines, dashes of romance, and worlds dripping with intrigue, then you'll love Dora Blume's complete series.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dora Blume
• Release date: Aug 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393048022

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

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Amidst the echoing shadows of an enigmatic past, my mind stirred with a quiet intensity. My thoughts wandered from the deposition to the odd feeling that tickled at my senses. Something felt different, but I couldn’t say what. Trying to stay engrossed in my work, my fingers tapped against the keyboard, the clicks becoming rhythmic music to my ears. The muted hum of my computer was interrupted by a cheerful voice crackling through the speaker on my desk.

Girl, you're single. It's Friday night. You're not spending another night working when you should be out living your life. Come on. One of the guys from Trampled by Turtles is playing locally tonight. You need to come with me, Angie urged.

I sighed, my fingers dancing across the keyboard as I continued typing. Angie, I have things I need to do. I have a deposition on Monday and three other cases I need to be working on. I can't go out tonight.

Oh my God, Kaira. You are going to turn into one of those cat ladies who never leaves their house. Come on, you're approaching thirty and need to go out. See what's out there before all the eligible men are taken.

I'm completely fine with the prospect of being a cat lady. I think you're the one who's insecure about it. I huffed out a breath, my gaze still fixed on my computer screen. Angie, why did you call me on my work line? I'm only supposed to be taking business calls on this phone.

Angie's voice took on a more determined tone. Because you are avoiding your cell phone. I've left messages and texted you half a dozen times. When you don't respond, I have to change tactics. Someone has to drag you out of your office. I'm not taking no for an answer tonight. You can go back to all your boring work the rest of the weekend. I'm pretty sure that's what Sundays are for. I'll be at your house at eight. Don't you dare stay in the office too long! You need to look good. Your boring pantsuits are not going to cut it tonight. Angie hung up the phone before I could argue.

I muttered to myself, God, she can be so infuriating. I finally tore my eyes away from the computer screen, looking around my office. My dedication to my career was evident in every nook and cranny of the space. I was determined to climb the ladder and become a partner one day, even if it meant long hours and sacrificing my personal life.

My gaze landed on my office secretary, Nicole, who leaned against the door jamb, seemingly relaxed but with a restless tapping of her heel against the floor.

I made copies of the Dorken file. Mr. Cross also rescheduled the meeting about the Sampson case. It's now Wednesday at ten. You're all set on the Johnson case, although I'm not sure why you took it. You've already done more pro-bono cases than anyone else on this floor, Nicole informed me as she handed over a file.

I accepted the file and replied, I took it because no family deserves to work so hard to start a business only to have it destroyed over someone's stupidity. Plus, I like helping others whenever I can. I shrugged and set the file on my desk, glancing back at Nicole, who was fidgeting.

Do you have somewhere you need to be, Nicole? I inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Nicole hesitated for a moment but then confessed, Well, it is Friday, and I'd like to miss traffic.

I chuckled. It's after five. You're not missing traffic. What's up?

Oh, nothing, Nicole said, avoiding eye contact.

I, not one to be easily deceived, pressed further. Now I know something's up. What is it?

Nicole threw her arms up in exasperation. Ugh, fine. I have a date tonight. She met my gaze, silently challenging me.

I grinned and leaned forward, genuinely interested. Ah, I met him on Match. It's our first meeting, and I'd like to make a good impression. He's cute in that boy-next-door kind of way. I just really don't want to show up in my work clothes.

Besides, don't you have to be home to meet Angie? Nicole added, arching an eyebrow inquisitively.

Nicole, were you listening to my call? I raised an eyebrow, amused.

Not entirely, I can hear you when you put it on speaker at my desk. Sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop on your conversation, but I kind of have to agree with her. You spend way too much of your time working, Nicole pointed out. I know it's a requirement, especially if you want to move up the ranks here, but come on. You took another pro-bono case when you've already met your quota for the next two years. Plus, you're already overloaded with cases. You need to have a life, too. And we both aren't getting any younger.

I sighed, realizing that Nicole had a point. Fine, I guess we'll both leave at a reasonable time. Go, have fun on your date. I expect a full report on Monday. I laughed and walked back around to sit at my desk. I had one more document to proofread before sending it off, then I'd leave. Traffic was going to be a nightmare either way. It was part of the reason I always left the office after seven.

After another half-hour of meticulously pouring over legal documents, I methodically shut off the lights in my office. Nicole's words lingered in my thoughts, echoing the idea that perhaps I needed to have a life beyond work. Tonight, I mused, I'd let loose and experience the world outside these office walls. I had the entire weekend to focus on my cases; perhaps it was high time I struck a better work-life balance.

The parking ramp was dimly lit as I made my way towards it. In the eerie silence, I contemplated the idea of embracing a little spontaneity. What could be the harm in having a bit of fun, even if it meant breaking from my tightly woven routine?

As I approached my car, the sound of scuffling footsteps behind me sent a shiver down my spine. The parking lot, typically bustling with workaholic lawyers, was surprisingly empty for a Friday evening. I glanced over my shoulder, sensing a presence, but saw no one. My heart raced as I quickly entered my car, locking the doors with a sense of urgency. I reassured myself that it was probably nothing more than my imagination running wild.

Driving through the various levels of the ramp towards the exit, I couldn't help but notice that there were still several cars parked, a testament to the shared dedication of my colleagues to their work.

I'm not the only workaholic, I murmured, attempting to downplay my unease.

As I approached the exit gate, I rolled down my window to scan my parking card. An inexplicable chill coursed down my spine once again, as if an unseen gaze bore into me. I swiftly scanned my surroundings but found no one. It's probably nothing, I muttered, shaking off the unease. Just my overactive imagination. I should really stop watching so many crime shows.

With the unsettling feeling still lingering, I finally made my way home. Angie would be arriving soon, and I couldn't help but wonder if tonight might indeed be different.

Standing in front of my full-length mirror, I appraised my third outfit for the evening. The black pants clung to my frame, complemented by a rich plum blouse. The V-neck blouse was tasteful, revealing just enough of my decolletage to strike the right balance between class and allure. A silver chain adorned my neck, matching my small raindrop earrings. The vivid red of my hair stood out against the deep plum, creating a striking contrast.

A knock on my door snapped me out of my thoughts. I took a final look in the mirror before answering the door.

Angie stood at my doorstep, arms initially crossed over her chest, but they fell away as her eyes took in my appearance. Oh, honey, you're absolutely stunning, she gushed. She stepped inside and embraced me, then pulled back, her hands resting on my elbows. I mean it, you look amazing. Where did you get this top? It's perfect with your hair.

I smiled. I think I got it at The Fun Sister's shop, or maybe that was where I got the earrings. It's one of the places on Nicollet. I love exploring the shops there on weekends. I've found some incredible treasures in the antique stores.

Angie's excitement couldn't be contained. So, are you ready to go?

I couldn't help but tease her. You're in quite a hurry. What's the rush?

I want to whisk you away from this house before you change your mind, she admitted.

I'm all dressed up to go out. I'm not changing my mind. Where are we headed? I inquired.

Angie's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. One of the guys from Trampled by Turtles is playing at Blackstack Brewery tonight. It wasn't advertised; it's a secret show. I adore Trampled, and you've got to come with me, she urged, her excitement palpable.

I agreed with a smile. You know, if you'd mentioned that earlier, I would have been convinced. I know how much you love their music.

Angie retorted, I did mention it. You always resist going out, citing work-related excuses. She used air quotes as she mimicked my excuses. You can be so boring sometimes. When you're not working, you're buried in books. It's time you lived a little outside those pages.

I nodded, gazing longingly at the novel on the end table. I love reading. Getting lost in a book is one of my favorite things to do, but I understand what you mean. It's a constant struggle to put down a good book.

Angie's tone grew more serious. I worry about you, Kaira. I see you working and staying in night after night. I'm concerned that you're missing out on life. There's a whole world out there, moments of pure happiness you're missing. I love you, babe, and I don't want to see you miss out on life.

I sighed, acknowledging her concern. I don't want to see you waste a single moment of your existence. It's too short to squander.

She softened, taking my hands in hers. I just don't want to see you miss out on life, babe.

I rolled my eyes at her dramatics but couldn't help but smile. I suppose that's the last of your rants about how I'm not living life to the fullest, right?

Angie laughed. Let's hope so. Now, let's go have some fun.

Okay, I just need to grab my things, I said, quickly donning my black leather coat and snatching my purse from the counter. I slipped my phone inside and announced, Alright, I'm ready.

Angie chimed in, Let's go. I've got a Lyft driver waiting downstairs.

As we hurried downstairs, I couldn't help but inquire, You had the driver wait down there? Why didn't you tell me? We could have left right away.

Angie reassured me, Don't fret, I'm covering the cost.

I can't let you do that, I protested, though I knew her well enough to realize it was a futile argument.

Oh, you definitely can't. Angie shot back, her tone firm. I'm tired of your 'I'm a lawyer and make more money' excuses. I'm paying tonight, and someone needs to take you out for a change.

Angie opened the car door and moved to make room for me. I sighed, my frustration evident as I climbed into the vehicle. You can be so exasperating at times, I muttered under my breath and shut the door.

Angie flashed me a teasing grin. Yes, but you've already admitted that you love me.

Turning her attention to the driver, Angie requested, Hey, honey, can you take us to Blackstack Brewery?

The driver, a handsome young man with caramel skin and well-defined shoulders, flashed a crooked smile as he replied, Of course, ma'am.

Angie giggled and playfully rubbed my thigh. I rolled my eyes, ensuring she noticed. I was not ogling the driver; I simply appreciated the dedication he must have put into maintaining his physique. Having spent considerable time at the gym, I couldn't help but admire others who shared that commitment.

I do go out, I defended myself, casting a quick glance toward the rear-view mirror, where the driver's eyes met mine, and he smiled.

So, are you ladies headed to play mini-golf tonight, or is there something else going on at Can Can? he inquired.

Angie spoke up enthusiastically, Oh, one of the members of Trampled by Turtles is playing at the brewery above Can Can Wonderland. It's a secret show. I'm a huge fan, and it's supposed to be a hush-hush event.

Wow, a secret show. That's cool, the driver remarked, focusing on me. Do you have a special someone you're meeting there tonight?

Angie jumped in, No, it's a girls' night. Just Kaira and me. She playfully nudged my side, causing me to wince.

Smirking, the driver continued, Well then, I'd better get you there lickity split so you can start having a great time.

Angie laughed, saying, Oh my god, did you just say 'lickity split'? Who says that?

The driver raised his brows. I do.

While Angie and the driver conversed, I found myself under his prolonged gaze in the rear-view mirror, unable to tear my eyes away. He held my attention, a rare experience as Angie typically drew everyone's focus.

When we arrived at the brewery, the driver said, Well, ladies, it's been a pleasure driving you.

Thanks, Angie replied as she moved closer to me, and I thanked him as I exited the car.

Angie rolled her eyes and closed the door behind me, then hurried toward the brewery's entrance. I followed her, pulling out a bar stool and taking a seat.

Angie glanced around and said, We'll sit closer to the stage.

I agreed, and she waved to get the bartender's attention. As I scanned the menu, I said, I'll have a People Person.

The bartender approached us, stopping in front of Angie. She flirtatiously stated, Hey, cutie. I'll take a Public Persona, and she'll have a People Person.

The bartender nodded and returned with our drinks. After Angie handed him a twenty, she turned to me and asked, Come on, I want to be near the stage.

We made our way to a table on the left side of the stage, with Angie taking a seat to keep an eye on the room. I sat with my back to the bar, quietly sipping my beer.

I commented on the taste of the drink, and Angie teased, How are you supposed to see all the yummy bachelors if you sit with your back to the room?

I playfully rolled my eyes and observed the room. I'm here to see the band. I thought you were here for the same reason.

Angie retorted, I'm here for both. I can enjoy the music while checking out the eye candy around the room.

She winked at someone in particular, and I raised an eyebrow at her. See something you like?

Her eyes remained fixed on her target as she replied, Yes, I do. If you'll excuse me, I think I'll go introduce myself.

Angie stood and approached a tall man leaning against the bar. I watched her as she engaged him in conversation, and within moments, they were both laughing. Angie's hand moved along his arm, and I couldn't help but wonder how she possessed such extraordinary flirting skills. It was as if she'd taken a course in the art of seduction. I couldn't fathom how she did it, but it was certainly effective.

The screech of a chair sliding across the floor stole my attention, and a smooth voice whispered, Hey beautiful, from the seat next to me. I turned to find myself captivated by the striking stranger who had appeared beside me. His presence felt like a gentle whirlwind, his cobalt eyes meeting mine as he greeted me with a disarming charm.

Uh, I'm Kaira, I stammered, genuinely surprised by his approach.

A beautiful name for a beautiful lady, he remarked, his voice as smooth as silk. His blonde hair cascaded slightly over his ears, and he casually brushed it back, catching my gaze.

Are you here to see the band? he inquired, those magnetic eyes still fixed on me.

Yes, I responded, my eyes flicking towards Angie, who was deeply engaged with another man at the bar. My friend loves them.

Just your friend? He probed, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity.

I like them too, but I'm not as big of a fan as she is, I explained, my attention returning to him.

He leaned back, allowing the faintest trace of a smile to grace his lips. So, what do you do when you're not out with your friend? he prodded, his eyes penetrating.

I'm a lawyer, I disclosed, expecting him to make his swift departure, as was the usual outcome when men discovered my profession.

His initial response was a bit of hesitation as he tried to find his footing. Oh, wow, um, ah, I have to get back to my friends, sorry, he stammered, rising from his seat. For a fleeting moment, his expression almost appeared apologetic before he made a hasty retreat, heading far away from my table.

I sighed and rolled my eyes, unfazed by his departure. I had become accustomed to men feeling intimidated by my profession, but someday, I hoped to meet someone who wouldn't be. As I pondered this, I heard a throat clearing behind me and swiftly turned around.

A tall, dark-haired man had taken a seat at the table behind me, and I couldn't help but notice his rugged appeal. He ran a hand over the stubble on his chin, concealing a smile that seemed to linger just beneath the surface.

Excuse me, I uttered, my eyes wandering down his body, taking in his strong shoulders clad in a black leather jacket, dark indigo jeans, and a pair of black boots. One of his jeans was slightly bunched up, caught on the top of his boot, giving him an effortlessly cool look. I couldn't help but admire the fullness of his lips and the strong lines of his jaw, which drew my gaze as I bit my own lip. He met my eyes and noticed where my attention had lingered. An unexpected rush of warmth flooded my cheeks, and I quickly averted my gaze.

His voice, deep and melodic, broke the silence. That was brutal.

Startled, I questioned, What? I was hopeful he wasn't referring to the earlier encounter with the man who had left.

With a knowing look in his eyes, he dropped his hand from his chin. Nothing, I'm sure he'll be right back over once he checks with his friends.

I couldn't help but hope that he was wrong. I'm not worried about it. I'm here to see the band, not to deal with young boys looking for an easy hookup, I retorted, rolling my eyes, and refocusing on my beer.

He chuckled softly and muttered to himself, Interesting.

My attention was snatched away when the band walked onto the stage, and one of the members stepped up to the microphone to introduce the group. I turned to get a better view, only to realize that the enigmatic man I had been talking to had disappeared. I scanned the room, but he had vanished without a trace. I was left with an odd sense of curiosity and a lingering sense of intrigue.

With Angie pulling out a chair next to me and settling down, I wondered what had just unfolded and how it might affect the rest of the evening.

As the band continued to play, the rhythm of the music carried the night forward. Angie's inquisitive gaze met mine, and she asked, So, how was your meeting?

A playful smile curved on her lips as she added, I gave him my number and promised him a dance later. I didn't want to leave you sitting over here all by yourself for too long. Who was the tall drink of water you were talking to?

My thoughts briefly returned to the mysterious man I had conversed with earlier, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what made him stand out. Oh, ah, I don't know. He didn't stick around long, I replied with a shrug, turning my attention back to the stage where the band played energetically.

Angie leaned in closer, a look of advice in her eyes. Did you tell him you were a lawyer? You need to stop telling guys what you do right away. Talk about something interesting for once. There's nothing interesting about being a lawyer.

But he asked me what I did, I defended, unsure of how else to respond to such a direct question.

Angie exhaled, her exasperation evident as the band launched into another spirited tune. Our conversation came to an end as the lively melody filled the room. I couldn't help but wonder about the dark-haired stranger I had met earlier. Despite my disclosure about my profession, he hadn't made a hasty escape like most men did.

Rather, he engaged me in a conversation, albeit a brief one, before vanishing. I scanned the room for any sign of him, captivated by the alluring enigma that surrounded him. Had he been watching me all along, waiting for the right moment to approach?

My curiosity remained unquenched as I shifted my focus to the band. Angie, on the other hand, had other plans and urged me to join her on the dance floor, a place where I felt truly liberated. The lively banjo music filled the air as we twirled and moved, completely immersed in the music. For a moment, I forgot about the enigmatic man and the feeling of being watched. Dancing was a true escape for me, and I savored every moment of it.

Exhilarated but breathless, we returned to our table and settled back into our chairs. A friendly waitress approached us, inquiring, Can I get you ladies a refill? She gestured toward our empty glasses.

Angie didn't hesitate, swiftly responding, Yes, please. A Public Persona and a People Person. She leaned back comfortably in her chair.

The waitress smiled and promised, Coming right up, before disappearing into the bustling crowd. She returned shortly with our drinks, and before Angie could reach for her purse, I handed her a twenty. As the waitress headed back to the bar, I made sure to tip her generously.

However, as I handed over the tip, a distinct feeling washed over me—an inexplicable sensation that someone was observing me. A shiver cascaded down my spine, prompting me to whip my head around, scanning the room to identify the source of this eerie sensation. It was strange, unsettling even, to feel like I was being watched so intensely, yet no one in the room seemed to be paying me any unusual attention.

Angie noticed my reaction and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. What's wrong? she asked, her eyes locking onto mine.

I tried to dismiss the feeling with a forced smile, saying, Nothing, it's probably nothing. I just felt like someone was watching me. I got a chill. It's probably nothing.

Her response was nonchalant, There are lots of people watching us. Some of them are even hot, like really hot. We had some amazing moves on the dance floor. Now, we have some admirers. That's probably what you're feeling.

You're right, I conceded, attempting to shake off the lingering unease. It's probably nothing.

The band announced a brief break, during which Angie once again surveyed the room. Her eyes locked onto the blonde man she had been talking to earlier, who was now watching her with a friendly smile.

Are you ditching me? I inquired with a hint of irritation, my annoyance evident in the quirk of my eyebrow. Angie had a habit of luring me into going out and then leaving me to fend for myself once she met a potential romantic interest. At times, I questioned the authenticity of our friendship.

No, it's girls' night. I can't believe you'd even ask me, she responded with a flutter of her lashes and another glance at the man.

Right, you can go with him if you really want to, I replied, my tone laced with a trace of sarcasm. I understand. I'll find my way home, like I usually do. The words tumbled