Serena's Magic Read Online Free PDF Page A

around her. He watched her for another moment with curious tenderness, then stood and stretched and slipped back into his cutoffs. He glanced around, and it occurred to him how dark it was getting. Thank God there was a full moon or he wouldn’t be able to see his hand before his face. He paused for a moment, looking down at her, decided she was deeply asleep, and thought that he’d hurry back to the car for his huge lantern—he wanted a little light on the subject when she awoke and he quizzed her.
    He walked around the pond this time, absently picked up the split bottles and the cooler, and stumbled back through the trail that had brought him.
    Except that going back in the dark was a hell of a lot harder than coming had been.
    He cursed himself for an idiot as he lost his way through the trees, muttering beneath his breath as leaves slapped his face. What a woodsman! he thought with a groan. But eventually he found the car—bright and shiny beneath the moonlight. He replaced the cooler and threw the garbage on the floor of the passenger seat, then scrounged around in the trunk until he found his massive flashlight.
    Returning to the pond once more was a hell of a lot easier with the light. He began to wonder about her again as he walked, a little in awe of the whole situation. Women—no, he admitted fairly, not just women, but people—usually had motives. Most of the time, they wanted something.
    That was part of what had been so unique. They had met, touched, and come together. The meeting was as unique as the woman. And as he had never been before, he was anxious to find out about her.
    And he was anxious to hold her again. He was already wondering if anything could have been so damned good … or had it just been the twilight, playing tricks upon his senses?
    When he reached the pond again, he incredulously discovered that she was gone. Vanished. Without a trace.
    He felt as if he were a madman—rushing about the place like an idiot, searching the foliage high and low, then standing there like a fool with his light trained upon the water.
    She simply wasn’t there. Not a sign of her. The entire interlude might not have been.
    As he stared at the water, a horror engulfed him. What if she hadn’t felt so wonderful about the experience? He didn’t know a damned thing about her. She might be mentally unbalanced. She might have …
    He dropped the flashlight and dove into the water, surfaced, dove again. Over and over, until he had covered—as best he could in the darkness—the entire pond.
    Then he got up to sit by the shoreline, feeling even more like an idiot—and more furious.
    Now if he found her, he wanted to throttle her!
    He panted to regain his breath after his efforts and finally puffed out an exasperated sigh. Incredible. It appeared now as if he sat before nothing more than a dark pond. Nothing could have happened here. His experience with a witch at twilight might have been a date with magic.
    He stood with an impatient grumble. He didn’t believe in magic—and his witch had been a flesh and blood woman. And he would find her even if it meant searching not just Salem, but all of Massachusetts.
    Muttering disgustedly to himself, he started back for the car a second time. He found his way easily with the flashlight; but he felt uncomfortable because his clothes were sopping wet; his green Izod dripped on his cutoffs which in turn dripped on his sandals and his bare toes.
    He was muttering as he drove into Salem—only to discover that he hadn’t read his map well. The road he should have been on ran parallel to the one he had taken. He had to backtrack to find the inn, wondering all the while how the proprietress would greet a soaking wet guest.
    But the smiling, middle-aged woman who answered the door merely clucked over his appearance, warning him that while July days were hot in Salem, the nights could become very cool. She ushered him into a warm parlor while promising hot coffee and towels. He