Remedial Magic Read Online Free PDF

I said. Like I had a choice.
    Grace leaned over and pulled a little spiral-bound notebook from one of the desk drawers, then readied an intricately carved silver pen over the paper. I guess the Fae aren’t big on using Bics.
    “What is the purpose of your visit to Avalon?” she asked.
    Well, duh. I’m sixteen years old—I’m not here on a business trip. “I’m here to visit with family.”
    She jotted that down, then looked at me over the top of the notebook. “Aren’t you a little young to be traveling unaccompanied?”
    I sat up straighter in my chair. Yeah, okay, I was only sixteen, but that’s not that young. I was old enough to balance the checkbook, pay the bills, and drive my mother around when she was too drunk to be allowed behind the wheel. Grace’s eyes flashed with amusement as I bristled, and I managed to tamp down my reaction before I spoke.
    “Someone was supposed to meet me at the airport,” I said, though that wasn’t really an answer to her question. “No one showed up, so I just took a taxi. My father’s supposed to meet me when I get through customs.”
    Grace nodded thoughtfully, scribbling away. “What is your father’s name?”
    “Seamus Stuart.”
    “Address?”
    “Er, 25 Ashley Lane.” I was glad I’d bothered to ask for his address before showing up. I hadn’t really known I’d need it.
    “Was he in the parking area? I can ask him to come in if you’d like.”
    “Um, I’ve actually never met him, so I don’t know if he was there or not.” I hoped I wasn’t blushing. I don’t know why I found the fact that I’d never met my father embarrassing, but I did.
    She scribbled some more. I wondered how she could possibly be writing so much. It wasn’t like I was telling her my life’s history. And why would the border patrol need to know all this crap? I’d had to answer most of these questions when I’d applied for my visa.
    “Am I going to get my luggage back?” I asked, too ner vous to sit there and be quiet.
    “Of course, dear,” she said with another of those insincere smiles.
    Just then, the door to the office opened. The guy in the coverall who’d taken my luggage popped his head in and waited for Grace’s attention. She looked up at him with an arched eyebrow.
    “It’s confirmed,” he said.
    For the first time, Grace’s smile looked entirely genuine.
    “What’s confirmed?” I asked, the genuine smile for some reason freaking me out even more than the fake one.
    “Why, your identity, dear. It seems you really are Seamus Stuart’s daughter.”
    My jaw dropped. “How did you confirm that?”
    “Allow me to introduce myself properly,” she said instead of answering. “My full name is Grace Stuart.” Her smile turned positively impish. “But you may call me Aunt Grace.”





 

    Jenna Black graduated from Duke University with degrees in anthropology and French.  A full time writer of paranormal romance and urban fantasy, she lives in Pittsboro, North Carolina.  Visit her on her Web site at www.jennablack.com.