A Curse in Ash

By Julie Zantopoulos

Everyone knows you don't mess with Fae on a New Moon.

But the Fae that Aisling Quinn deals with don't need a thin Veil to cross and jeopardize her carefully created life. As a powerful witch, she's battled for agency in realms determined to control her. Now, she has a circle of friends she loves, a job where she excels, and a c

• Language: English
• Publisher: Atmosphere Press
• Release date: Oct 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9781737278610

Book preview

Chapter 1

Aisling

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"W

hy’s it so crowded tonight, Ash?" Lettie had to lean in and yell to be heard.

Aisling swayed against the man in front of her and answered her friend. It’s a dark moon. Everyone’s looking for trouble.

The music thrummed, dim lighting threw shadows over the crowd, and bodies moved as one to the driving beat. Aisling lifted her long auburn hair off her neck and pulled a hairband from her wrist to twist it into a loose bun. Trent and Lettie, her lifelong friends, danced around her.

Trent’s laugh sounded from behind Aisling. Idiots, if you ask me. I appreciate the eye candy all the same.

Aisling spotted a Fae she didn’t recognize across the dance floor. She wasn’t working tonight but they were worth checking out. They locked eyes and he separated from the shadows of the wall and prowled toward her through the dense crowd.

As the tall, muscular Fae approached, she bit her lip in welcome. Cheesy? Yes. Effective? Always.

Aren’t you a sight, pet?

She rolled her eyes at his accent. Fae didn’t have accents, but they’d do anything to make themselves more attractive to humans.

Trent groaned. You’re working too hard, friend.

The strange Fae placed his hand on her waist and waited to see if she’d react to his touch. In Faerie, he’d be within his rights to get all grabby hands with her. Here, the Fae were subject to their laws and women didn’t like being grabbed against their will. It’s one of the things Aisling loved most about this side of the Veil. The sweet taste of agency. She had worked hard for it.

Aisling pressed her body against his and continued dancing. I haven’t seen you here before. I’d have remembered. You’re not here to get into trouble, are you?

Only if that’s your name.

This time, Aisling couldn’t help it. She sighed loudly. You’ve had a lifetime to establish a catalog of pickup lines and that’s what you led with?

If she didn’t want to I.D. this new Fae, she’d have walked away immediately. But seeing as she didn’t recognize his face from police files at the border crossing, he was a potential threat.

I thought girls appreciated clear communication.

The beat of the song increased and she moved languidly against his body. Aisling registered the second Fae approaching them and knew her anonymity was in jeopardy. She remembered them from an interaction a few months back. He wasn’t a fan of hers.

You have a name, sexy? Maybe we can meet up again while you’re in town… if you’re here long enough? She cursed herself mentally. That was really smooth.

He opened his mouth to answer but stopped when the other Fae grabbed his arm.

Don’t answer her. Don’t you know who she is? He scowled at Aisling and she smiled prettily.

Who, me? I’m just a pretty little pet.

Fae eye rolls are always humorous. She laughed as he explained the mistake his friend almost made.

Meet Aisling Quinn. The way her name flowed off his tongue tingled up her spine, a music only Fae could create. Aisling on human lips lacked the grace of the Faerie pronunciation. Too often she’d been asked why her mother hadn’t spelled her name Ashlynn like it was pronounced, but when Fae spoke her name, you understood. It was why she allowed people this side of the Veil to call her Ash. Why bother with her full name when it would never sound right, anyway?

You don’t need the trouble she brings, no matter how hot she is.

The Fae she’d been dancing with looked at her with wary fresh eyes. He walked away, and Aisling cursed her inability to get his name before she turned back to Trent and Lettie.

Don’t you ever stop working? Trent asked.

I stop working and people can get hurt.

I take it he didn’t come through the portal legally? Lettie said looking to where the first Fae was now talking to another woman. Shame.

Aisling looked at the Fae again. His long hair clung to the sweat slick skin of his arms left bare by his mesh tank top.

I would kick your ass if I ever saw you making eyes at a rogue Fae. If he’s not smart enough to sneak back to Faerie tonight, he’ll be sorry I studied his face that closely.

Aisling’s job aiding the Birchwood Falls PD’s Supernatural Department was one she was proud of. Other witches could whip together potions or charms, but none wanted to put up with the bullshit she dealt with. Well, that and her assigned partner had quickly vetoed the other candidates. As a twenty-two-year-old civilian consultant, she got paid more than most rookie cops. A lot of egos got hurt when that got out.

He hasn’t done anything wrong, yet. Trent reminded her.

Can’t hurt to monitor new Fae until the moon phase passes. The Veil between Faerie and the human realm was thinnest while the moon was new. The strongest of Fae could pierce the Veil and travel between realms, but the weaker Fae needed the moon phase, or a portal crossing, to enter the human world.

Of course, the portals were monitored by the SPD, which meant that Fae had to register their name, familiar, and court allegiance when using them. A lot of Fae didn’t like the idea of being cataloged, so they broke through the Veil in the shadow of a dark moon. Seldom with good intentions.

She stayed alert to new faces because rogue Fae meant trouble for her eventually. It meant charming cells to hold Fae or spelling boxes to hold sprites. Aisling excelled in mixing the potions that kept police from being influenced by Fae. It was a necessary and lucrative side job, one that recently afforded her a condo.

I need another drink, Ash. Lettie announced. The two girls left Trent kissing a buff, sweaty man to make their way to the bar. Bodies brushed against them, close and hot, until they reached the end of the dance floor and the air cooled. Still, they dabbed at their sweaty faces with bar napkins while they waited for their drinks.

Not a single guy has come up to me tonight. Lettie looked at Trent grinding with an unknown man on the dance floor. Or a girl, for that matter.

They’re idiots, Lettie. You look smoking hot tonight. You don’t have to wait for them to come to you.

She looked amazing, but that wasn’t surprising. Lettie’s family didn’t have the budget for the latest fashion trends, but everything Lettie wore looked fantastic on her filled-out frame. They were opposites in a lot of ways, Lettie’s short black hair to Aisling’s long auburn, her tanned skin to Aisling’s freckles.

Yeah, Lettie said, her hips still moving to the music as the bartender returned with their drinks.

Aisling slid money across the bar, but he shook her off. Paid for by the man. He pointed down the bar and made his way to the next customer. Aisling lifted her Jack Daniels and ginger ale to the smiling man, but he wasn’t looking at her.

That one is all yours, Lettie.

But Lettie was already swaying her hips as she sauntered through the room, turning to throw her a wink.

Aisling used the only pocket available to her in tonight’s club outfit, her bra, and pulled out her cell phone. She leaned against the bar and sipped slowly at her drink while scrolling through her text messages.

She’d barely had time to read the novel-length text her mother had sent her regarding home decor when she someone moved in close and coughed. Wholly uninterested in anyone who would cough as an icebreaker, Aisling kept her eyes on her phone.

I’m not sure what you’re looking at, but it can’t be that interesting. I haven’t texted you yet.

Why didn’t you say it was you? She playfully knocked shoulders with the man standing next to her.

Dexter chuckled before sitting on an empty stool next to where she stood. Where’s the fun in that? Plus, I don’t get the chance to take you by surprise often. How many of those have you had, Ash?

She finished her drink and shook off the judgment in his tone. That was number three. That a problem, Officer?

Dex shook his head. Not tonight.

Aisling looked her friend up and down. Dexter Ruiz, Supernatural Police Department Detective was dressed for a night out with a beer hanging loosely from his fingers. With his elbows resting on the bar behind him, his distressed T-shirt stretched across a muscled chest, his biceps threatening to burst the cuffs around his arms. Trent called him ruggedly handsome, and went on endlessly about his tanned complex-ion and juicy lips. But, to Aisling he was just her co-worker.

You won the lottery. Her smile was genuine. He deserved a night off. The new moon was an all-hands-on-deck call at the PD, normally. A night off during one was coveted.

Just in time, too. The last few days have been rough. He sighed and took a long draw on his beer.

Relaxation suited him, but Aisling reminded herself not to look him over too much. Having a poker face was essential for Dexter’s job, but Aisling realized early in their working relationship that he wanted something more with her. Despite a drunken kiss a few years back, Aisling wasn’t interested in moving their relationship beyond professional.

If he was upset, that was on him. If there was one thing she prided herself on, it was communication, and she’d told him it wasn’t in the cards for them.

Let’s make the most of it. He drained his beer, placed it on the bar, and pulled her to the dance floor. Dexter pulled her close as the light flickered above them and the bodies pressed in on them. Trent, who had pushed Aisling to give the guy a shot, wiggled his brows at her as they moved to the music.

Dexter mumbled something in her ear, and she prayed to the Goddess she’d misheard. What was that?

Questioning why we aren’t together. He winked and Aisling hoped he was teasing her.

We’d be horrible together, Dex.

Trent had broken off from his most recent dance partner and moved behind Dexter. If you’re looking for somebody a little less intimidating, I’m free.

You are definitely not less intimidating. Dex smiled. But, I’ll keep your offer in mind. He was dead serious and Aisling appreciated he wasn’t mocking her friend or faking interest. She looked at the men in front of her and tried to imagine them together. Dexter with his broad shoulders, square jaw, and thick black hair was the opposite of Trent. Her best friend rocked white blond hair, a slim body, piercings, and tattoos. They were night and day.

Her musings were interrupted by a buzzing in her bra.

She reached for her phone, noticing Dex’s eyes follow her hand and blushing a bit. Aisling cursed when she saw the PD’s number on the screen and looked up to see Dex reaching for his phone and frowning. Guess their night was over.

He cursed before stuffing his phone back into his pocket. You sober enough to go on a call?

I’ll be fine but I’m not driving. Aisling nodded, not too upset to leave the crowded club.

You can ride with me. Let’s go.

She took a second to kiss Trent’s cheek and ask him to make sure Lettie got home safely before she let Dex pull her out of the club. After a quick detour to her car to grab her bag, they took off in his SUV.

What are we walking into? She asked as she drank from the water bottle he’d handed her.

A group of kids drinking in the woods stumbled across a body. The scene looks too clean, the body a little suspicious, so they want you in to check for magical involvement.

Got it. Aisling prepared herself. It wouldn’t be her first time seeing a body, not by a long shot, but you never quite got used to it. The lifeless, waxy vacantness that death left behind was unsettling, even more so if it was a Fae. Seeing something immortal laid to waste was disturbing.

Grabbing her bag had been smart, but she shouldn’t need it. Magic left a trace behind, a magical signature, and Aisling had been training to see them since she was a child. Her mother, a wonderful witch by her own right, had created a game out of charming items around the house and asking Aisling to find them. It had been their version of Hide and Seek and she’d excelled at it.

It had taken Aisling years to realize that her abilities weren’t what most would call normal." She’d been sent away for years of her childhood to get a better handle on her power. It had only been safe to return once she could hide her powers from people. Dexter was included in that list of people. There was no way to explain her being able to perform the spells she did without a Ravdi, a human conduit that aided witches in their magic.

Whatever they were about to face, she’d be able to handle. Her psychologist mother still hated any time she got called to another body. She worried about the lasting trauma, but it was all part of the job.

The trees thickened, leaning into the road and creating a tunnel that during the day looked welcoming but at night looked like clawed arms reaching for them. They drove into the belly of that beast and toward the flashing lights ahead.

Here we go. Dexter grabbed his weapon and badge from the locked glove box.

They opened their doors and Aisling followed behind him past police officers questioning a group of teenagers. Their pale faces told Aisling that tonight was not a good night for them. As they left the clearing, they passed an officer taping off the woods around them. Dexter flashed his badge and Aisling tolerated their sneers at her club outfit.

Apparently, nobody here had ever seen a woman in checkered booty shorts and a loose-fitting black tank top over a lace bra at a crime scene before. At least her footwear was practical. Her black Keds were perfect for dancing and walking to a body in the woods. She gave each judgmental prick the mental finger as they made their way toward the voices ahead.

Officer Ruiz, thanks for coming in. A cop Aisling had met a few times raised a brow at her. Did you two come together?

She didn’t take the bait. Who is in charge of the scene?

Captain is with the M.E. The cop mumbled pulling his belt up to his considerable waist and strolling away.

Sorry if all this adds fuel to the fire, Dex said with a wince, but Aisling remained unfazed. Most people thought she’d slept her way to the consultant job, and it was beneath her to argue with them over it.

Let’s go. She said, making her way over to the two people she needed to speak to. The Captain was standing with the medical examiner, a petite older woman whom Aisling adored.

The woman looked up from the body. Sorry to interrupt your night, but I can’t make out what I’m seeing.

Don’t worry about it. Every time you call me out here Captain has to pay me the big bucks.

The Captain growled, but it didn’t intimidate Aisling. You spray the body yet?

No. Wanted you to check out the signature first.

Aisling appreciated when people understood how magic worked. If she sprayed the body with saltwater, it would have removed base spells, but it also would have washed away the magical signature and her chance to see if she recognized it. Aisling was familiar with more signatures than any other witch in town, given her line of work, so seeing it was important.

She let her sight go blurry like she was looking at a 3D image, then scanned the area. Magic swirled through the air, thin and silvery in the darkness as it wove around the body. Initially, upon walking up to the scene, Aisling had observed a man in his early thirties, still young enough to be taken for Fae, wearing a suit. Now with her sight open, Aisling saw the truth.

The body was broad and muscular, clothed in jeans and a graphic T-shirt. They had short blond hair and their fingers were twisted in the dirt. The claw marks near them were evidence of a struggle. All clues that hadn’t been visible through the spell on the body. The bulge in their neck and the violent angle of their head made it clear this was a homicide. This changed things.

Aisling let her sight slip away and saw once again what everyone else in the clearing did.

I don’t recognize the signature, but he’s heavily spelled. He’s not Fae, which saves us from having to deal with the courts. She assured them, It should be safe to spray now.

The medical examiner nodded, and Aisling pulled out her bottle. Something so simple, salt and water, but it cleansed most spells away if they weren’t being actively reinforced.

Her vision slipped again, and she watched as the silver magic drained back into the ground, back to where it was pulled from.

It was an earth elemental who worked this spell. She commented.

Would have been more convenient if you recognized the signature. Dexter chimed in.

Aisling bit back irritation at the off-hand comment. She wasn’t here to do their jobs for them. She couldn’t recognize every signature.

That’s the least of our problems, Officer Ruiz. Aisling kept it formal but nodded to the body now that the magic had washed away. Recognize him?

Shit.

Accurate assessment of the situation, Mr. Ruiz. The Captain said as they stared at the face of the victim. Any idea how your informant ended up in the woods with a broken neck?

How long has he been dead? Aisling asked the medical examiner.

My best guess based on decomposition would be a few days, five tops.

Dexter cursed next to her, putting things together as Aisling did.

We talked yesterday. He came to me with information. Dexter commented.

The Captain walked away while punching furiously at his phone. Someone’s night was about to get seriously fucked.

"I

’m excited for you, sweetie, but I hate the idea of not having you here."

Aisling hugged her mother as she cried over a box she was taping up. I’m on the other side of town, Mom.

I know. She wiped her eyes and resumed her packing. It’s never been easy to watch you leave, Aisling. I keep reminding myself that this isn’t like when your father had you.

She lifted a box of linens and stacked it on top of some books. Self-diagnosis at its best.

Self-awareness, her mother corrected her.

Aisling stopped packing to tap her shoulder and let Phlyren settle and nuzzle her cheek. The bird had been with her since she was small. Her mother pronounced his name Fler-in but she couldn’t wrap her mouth around it when she was younger. So, he was Rin. He hated it, but he let her use it. She stroked the bird’s soft head and under his beak before she resumed packing.

The racket-tailed roller, a beautiful teal, brown, and white bird with long decorative tail feathers, settled on his perch. From there he oversaw the proceedings with authority. He was a demanding companion, but he meant the world to Aisling.

I can’t believe this is the last time you’ll sleep here, and I don’t even get you to myself. Her mother huffed.

I’ve already moved into the new place, Mom. Trent and Lettie want another night here. You had me last week and all the years before that.

Not all of them. She mumbled, Oh well, guess I get to look forward to being kept up all night. She grinned and Aisling didn’t disagree.

Trent had lived with them for a while when he got kicked out of his house. Lettie escaped there when life with her siblings was too much. Tonight would be chill, some pizza, beer, and old school movies. Unlike the prior years of late nights and gossip, tonight would be about memories.

Aisling packed the last of her boxes into the rented van and left for the condo with her mother and stepfather in tow. The condo was a two-bedroom, two bathrooms with a combo living and dining room. The kitchen was open with a view of the sliding-glass doors to a wraparound deck overlooking the pool.

She’d set up the second bedroom as a library with a daybed for guests. Aisling had grown up surrounded by books, so the idea of her own room lined with bookshelves appealed to her. She’d keep Phlyren’s perch in her room, but he’d be free to come and go as long as the weather allowed for open windows. He needed plenty of time outside to hunt for food and spread his wings. Nothing was worse than cranky Rin in the winter when he had to be fed store-bought crickets.

Her mother left for her house while Aisling and her stepfather returned the rental truck.

Watching your mother suffer while you were with your father was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. She worried so much, Ash. This is different, but for her, it feels the same. Patrick paused. We’ve spent so long worried about your safety. But at least we could sleep knowing you were in your bed. She won’t have that anymore.

Aisling could tell this wouldn’t be easy on her mother, but it was healthy for her. I need to do this, Patrick.

We know that honey, but it doesn’t make it easier. Put yourself in our shoes. There are criminals out there who would love to hurt you and now you’re here all alone. She’s going to crowd you for a bit. She can’t help herself.

I’ll try to remember where she’s coming from but I’m going to be okay. You know that right? She squeezed his hand. I’m not defenseless. I can take care of myself.

When they pulled up to the old home Patrick left to check on her mother. Aisling stood in her vacant childhood bedroom. She closed her eyes and felt the thrum of magic deep in the house’s foundation. It would take ages until her condo was a proper witch’s home.

Her text message alert sounded, and she saw Dex’s name on the screen.

Checking in on you.

You okay today?

Why wouldn’t I be?

Last night didn’t

exactly go as planned.

I’m not a newbie, Dex.

I can handle it.

Okay. I have nothing

else to say so I’m gonna

go before I make

a bigger ass of myself.

Talk to you later.

Aisling wanted to tell him it was fine, that he could text her to chat, but it would send the wrong message. Instead, she let him go and smiled when Phlyren came in with her friends who carried beer and pizza.

Is he ever going to stop dive-bombing us when he sees us? Lettie asked as she fixed her hair.

He’s happy to see you.

The menace was torturing some alates in the garden when we got here. Trent said and then shrieked as the bird dove at his head. A very handsome menace! Sorry, buddy.

Phlyren was notorious for harassing the local sprites. The earth sprites, alates, were polite because they feared him, but the air elements, wisps, liked to mess with him. The sprites would change air currents as he flew, making him wobble mid-flight. Lucky for the wisps, they weren’t corporeal; he couldn’t attack them no matter how hard he tried.

What movie first? Lettie asked, grabbing a cold Shock Top.

Beer before food? Trent asked.

Toss-up between Teen Witch and The Labyrinth. Aisling responded.

Ash, Lettie groaned. Can’t we watch something made in the last twenty years?

Absolutely not. It’s our last sleepover in this house and we’re sticking to tradition. Throwback movies for the win. She commanded while accepting a beer from Trent who settled onto the sofa next to her. Lettie sat on the other side of Aisling, her feet in her lap.

Fine, she relented. I vote The Labyrinth. Jareth is hotter than Brad.

The top that scene is better than any music in The Labyrinth. Trent argued.

Aisling gasped, Sacrilege! Nothing beats Dance Magic Dance.

The three laughed, Aisling cued The Labyrinth, and Trent hopped up to grab the pizza. They ate out of a box on the floor and quoted every line as they watched. When it ended it was early enough to start another movie. Aisling grabbed their fourth round of beers and settled in.

Before we start the movie do you want to fill us in on the rest of the night with Officer Hot Stuff? Trent asked with a smirk.

Nothing sexy, at all. A body, a bunch of high school kids, and a giant clusterfuck.

I heard it was some strung-out guy, Lettie said between sips of her beer.

He’d been clean for a little while. Aisling was defensive of the dead man who’d fought for his sobriety.

Oh, sorry.

Aisling took a sip of her beer. I’m more interested in what happened with you two after I left. She let the statement trail off and waited to see who would bite first.

I don’t kiss and tell, Trent said.

Like hell you don’t, Lettie laughed. I was having fun talking to… it doesn’t matter. I won’t be talking to him again. She blushed and took a drink.

Looked more like making out than talking to me. But why won’t you be talking to him again, Lettie? Trent poked.

No reason. She shot daggers at him.

What am I missing? Aisling looked between her two friends, one laughing while the other blushed.

We should start the movie. Where’s the remote? Lettie started searching the blankets.

Turns out Lettie was making out with a senior… in high school. The kid was eighteen with a fake ID. Trent fell into a fit of laughter.

Fuck you, Trenton. Lettie threw a pillow at him. How the hell was I supposed to know? It’s not like I ID dudes who buy me drinks.

Lettie groaned and put her head under the blanket. I will never live this down, will I?

Nope. Aisling laughed. Definitely not.

He’s been texting me all day. Lettie was turning a horrid shade of red.

You gave him your number? Trent snickered.

I’ve told him to stop texting me, but he won’t.

Awww that’s kinda cute. I mean, it’s creepy but cute, Aisling offered before snorting out a laugh. Remember that time Trent hooked up with the guy who was really in his sixties but under Fae glamor?

Trent started laughing, gasping for air. He had a grand-kid.

Oh my goddess, I’d forgotten that part! Aisling said.

Lettie giggled. Remember when I freaked out because I had a crush on Aly? I was such a baby queer. But fuck it, if I love you, I love you.

Trent smiled at Lettie, and it reminded Aisling of how happy she’d been when Lettie had told them she was pansexual. Lettie loved love too much for limits.

Her mother and Patrick came in as the movie started and shook their heads at the three of them huddled together.

Some things never change. Her mother commented before heading into the den with her husband.

Chapter 2

Riordan

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R

iordan’s bags were the last on the carousel rounding out the shit show that was his travel day. It wasn’t bad enough that he had been sitting next to an elderly man with wretched gas on an international flight. Or, that when he landed there had been a slew of angry text messages from friends back home.

Even the unluckiest of bastards had their day, though. When his bag emerged, he was thankful it hadn’t gotten lost. He hefted the duffel bag onto his shoulder, grabbed his guitar case, and got in the taxi line. Aunt Maggie had offered to pick him up, but mornings are busy for bakery owners and he didn’t want to put her out. He’d be enough of a burden staying with her until he got on his feet in the States.

A taxi finally pulled up and he was on his way toward the main street of Birchwood Falls and the apartment over Sweet Escapes bakery.

This was Riordan’s first trip to the United States and he’d only met his aunt a handful of times. He’d have been nervous if he wasn’t living in a constant state of numbness. His therapist said it was perfectly normal, a defense mechanism after trauma. Apparently, this was normal but when he lost himself in booze and women, that was frowned upon. Turns out there are right and wrong ways of coping after your parents are murdered.

As if the grief weren’t enough, they had laid his agony bare on national television. He left the media frenzy and a very disappointed brother behind and was ready for a distraction. He told his aunt as much when she joined him in the apartment to get him settled in.

It’s not as large as you’re used to back home, but feel free to make it your own. She twisted her hands in the apron she was wearing.

She’d lost her sister, his mother Calyssa, and he should give his condolences to her, but he didn’t. Her grief was as valid as his, but he didn’t want his mother’s ghost in this new space.

It’s perfect, Aunt Mags. Thanks again for letting me stay.

It’ll be nice to have company for a change. She hugged him and he did his best not to stiffen. So many people had hugged him since his parents’ death that he’d begun to hate being touched when he didn’t initiate it.

I should have stayed home longer, been with you and Liam. The shop is the only income I have and you two seemed so composed. She bit her lip. Then the news conference happened.

He took her hands to stop their nervous twitching. It was time for you to come back, Aunt Mags. I’m not angry and neither is Liam.

She frowned before nodding and offering a small smile. Well, I’ll let you settle in, yeah? She patted his cheek and then left him to unpack. It didn’t take long. His clothes got tossed in a dresser, one framed photograph went on his desk next to his laptop. Then, he set his guitar next to the bedside table with a few books he brought on top. That was it. That’s how little of himself he’d brought to start this new life.

He had purposely left shit behind. Of course, that shit included some friends and a few girls who were less than thrilled he’d skipped town without saying goodbye. His phone was full of unread and unanswered text messages, DM’s, and emails filled with hurt. They hurt; big deal. The only person with the right to be angry was his brother, and Liam was still working for the fucking Firinne.

His brother’s refusal to leave the same organization responsible for their parents’ death had been his breaking point. He’d expected his brother to finally see that serving witches wasn’t the honor his family believed it to be. But, no, he was still working for their council.

His parents had served as Ravdi, magical conduits for their bonded witches, and it had cost them their lives. Riordan could never, would never, understand accepting that fate. His parents had been happy being Ravdi and it had cost them everything. Liam had proudly followed in their footsteps. He’d not only accepted the Ravdi bond, but he went as far as to work for the headquarters of the witches, the Firinne.

Looking at the picture on the desk he saw his dead parents and his estranged brother. A sudden pang of longing, of loneliness, stabbed at him.

After connecting to the WiFi Riordan sat down at his laptop and started looking for the one thing he needed, a motorcycle. He’d left his back home because it hadn’t been realistic to ship it. His international license paperwork was all filled out. Now he needed a bike. The sooner the better. As he understood it fall would come early and quickly turn to winter and he wanted as much time on the road as possible before then. As