Wolfsbane: Aspect of the Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Jennifer Colgan
And I emphasize ‘perfect.’ She's a schoolteacher, works with disabled children. She doesn't even like scary movies. This would utterly freak her out."
Daniel cleared his throat. “You said something about tweaking the spell on the silver chain?” He seemed more anxious than Vance to begin the magickal work.
Emilie pulled the chain from her pocket and arranged it in a circle on the coffee table. “I'd like to see the spell you used to make this."
An uncomfortable look passed over Daniel's face. Vance eyeballed him suspiciously.
"The book is here.” He opened a drawer in the end table beside the recliner and pulled out a book bound in cracked burgundy leather. When he handed it to Emilie, she felt the resonance all the way up to her elbow.
"This was your grandfather's?"
Daniel nodded.
"And you say he wasn't a witch?” she asked, leafing through the old pages one sheet at a time. The book looked more like a diary than a grimoire, with dated entries written in the strong, angular hand of a man in a hurry. Here and there she recognized the cadence of spells and incantations, interspersed with accounts of what appeared to be werewolf hunts. “I understand."
"No, not completely,” Vance responded, but Daniel silenced him with a look.
"What? Don't keep me in the dark. If there's more I should know, then—"
"Pop hunted werewolves for thirty-two years,” Daniel said. “He personally killed more than a hundred in Europe and even chased one all the way to Australia.” Daniel leaned toward Emilie, flipped over a few of the book's crinkled pages, then pointed to an entry. “Here—a tribe of aborigines helped him track down a creature they believed had escaped from the fevered dreamtime of an injured man."
Emilie scanned the page. “It looks like they taught him a few protection charms. We may be able to use these."
"Do you think you'll be able to come up with something before the next full moon?” Vance asked.
"I'll try my best. At the very least, we'll find a way to keep you safe during the next cycle if I haven't come up with a workable spell. Do you have more of your grandfather's papers?"
Vance hesitated. What was he hiding?
"It's all right if you prefer to keep them private."
"Why don't you show her, Dan? I'm going to give Beth a call and let her know we're not coming up for air on the Peterson portfolio.” Vance stood and headed for the kitchen, grabbing Emilie's empty wineglass on the way. “I'll refill this for you."
"Just half, thanks. When I get home I've got to do some research. I don't want to fall asleep with my nose in a book."
"I'll show you the room Pop used as an office,” Daniel said.
He guided her out of the living room and up a narrow flight of stairs to a hexagonal garret on the third floor. The floorboards creaked and groaned as they stepped inside. The smell of old books and dried herbs surrounded Emilie, and she immediately got a sense of the man the Garrison brother's called “Pop."
"This was his house?” she asked.
Daniel found a pull chain that turned on a fringed lamp. The old bulb illuminated an open roll-top desk, overflowing with papers, letters, old-fashioned inkwells and bottles labeled in the same tight handwriting as the journal he'd shown her. “Vance and I inherited the place. I'm buying him out so he and Beth can get a house of their own."
Emilie's fingers ached to touch everything in sight. Pop might not have been a witch, but he had magick. A great deal of it still lingered in the room. Like her grandmother, it seemed everything he had touched contained a powerful essence. Emilie wondered if his grandsons had inherited any of the power. She certainly thought she felt something from Daniel.
Standing with him in the little room, she realized the feeling was more than just her own traitorous attraction to him. He possessed a hidden strength, something coiled just below the surface. She saw it in the tight set of his jaw and the controlled way he moved. She
Daniel cleared his throat. “You said something about tweaking the spell on the silver chain?” He seemed more anxious than Vance to begin the magickal work.
Emilie pulled the chain from her pocket and arranged it in a circle on the coffee table. “I'd like to see the spell you used to make this."
An uncomfortable look passed over Daniel's face. Vance eyeballed him suspiciously.
"The book is here.” He opened a drawer in the end table beside the recliner and pulled out a book bound in cracked burgundy leather. When he handed it to Emilie, she felt the resonance all the way up to her elbow.
"This was your grandfather's?"
Daniel nodded.
"And you say he wasn't a witch?” she asked, leafing through the old pages one sheet at a time. The book looked more like a diary than a grimoire, with dated entries written in the strong, angular hand of a man in a hurry. Here and there she recognized the cadence of spells and incantations, interspersed with accounts of what appeared to be werewolf hunts. “I understand."
"No, not completely,” Vance responded, but Daniel silenced him with a look.
"What? Don't keep me in the dark. If there's more I should know, then—"
"Pop hunted werewolves for thirty-two years,” Daniel said. “He personally killed more than a hundred in Europe and even chased one all the way to Australia.” Daniel leaned toward Emilie, flipped over a few of the book's crinkled pages, then pointed to an entry. “Here—a tribe of aborigines helped him track down a creature they believed had escaped from the fevered dreamtime of an injured man."
Emilie scanned the page. “It looks like they taught him a few protection charms. We may be able to use these."
"Do you think you'll be able to come up with something before the next full moon?” Vance asked.
"I'll try my best. At the very least, we'll find a way to keep you safe during the next cycle if I haven't come up with a workable spell. Do you have more of your grandfather's papers?"
Vance hesitated. What was he hiding?
"It's all right if you prefer to keep them private."
"Why don't you show her, Dan? I'm going to give Beth a call and let her know we're not coming up for air on the Peterson portfolio.” Vance stood and headed for the kitchen, grabbing Emilie's empty wineglass on the way. “I'll refill this for you."
"Just half, thanks. When I get home I've got to do some research. I don't want to fall asleep with my nose in a book."
"I'll show you the room Pop used as an office,” Daniel said.
He guided her out of the living room and up a narrow flight of stairs to a hexagonal garret on the third floor. The floorboards creaked and groaned as they stepped inside. The smell of old books and dried herbs surrounded Emilie, and she immediately got a sense of the man the Garrison brother's called “Pop."
"This was his house?” she asked.
Daniel found a pull chain that turned on a fringed lamp. The old bulb illuminated an open roll-top desk, overflowing with papers, letters, old-fashioned inkwells and bottles labeled in the same tight handwriting as the journal he'd shown her. “Vance and I inherited the place. I'm buying him out so he and Beth can get a house of their own."
Emilie's fingers ached to touch everything in sight. Pop might not have been a witch, but he had magick. A great deal of it still lingered in the room. Like her grandmother, it seemed everything he had touched contained a powerful essence. Emilie wondered if his grandsons had inherited any of the power. She certainly thought she felt something from Daniel.
Standing with him in the little room, she realized the feeling was more than just her own traitorous attraction to him. He possessed a hidden strength, something coiled just below the surface. She saw it in the tight set of his jaw and the controlled way he moved. She