Night's Touch. Amanda Ashley

stood and then offered Cara his hand.

      “Did he see us?” she asked anxiously.

      “Not yet.”

      She breathed a sigh of relief, and then frowned. “How do you even know he’s here?”

      “I can hear him. He’s right over there,” Vince said, pointing.

      “I don’t hear anything.”

      “Come on, I’d better take you back to the library to get your car.”

      “I don’t want to go home.”

      “And I don’t want you to go,” Vince said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

      But it was probably for the best.

      Chapter 8

      Roshan made an effort to keep his temper in check as he stared at his daughter. She sat on the sofa, her hands clasped in her lap. As always, he was amazed to have her in his life. He had never expected to have a daughter, had resigned himself to being childless, and then she had come into his life, enriching it beyond measure. The thought of losing her was beyond bearing.

      “What were you thinking?” he asked quietly. “Going off into the woods with some man you don’t even know? Merciful heavens, Cara, don’t you ever listen to the news? It seems like every other night there’s a story about some girl who’s disappeared!”

      “I’m sure none of them had bodyguards, Daddy!”

      “Di Giorgio said you were out of his sight for a short time. It only takes a minute to snuff out a life.”

      Cara stared at her father. His eyes had gone hard and flat, and he spoke with such conviction that she might have thought he had taken a life or two himself if she hadn’t known better. “I’m sorry.”

      Taking a step forward, Roshan placed his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, too, Princess. I don’t mean to scold. I know you’re a big girl now. But you’re also a beautiful girl, and men have been taking advantage of beautiful young girls since time began.”

      “I don’t mean to worry you, but, oh, Daddy, I like him so much!”

      “Which one is this? The one who drives the BMW or the one who drives the Mustang? Or someone new?”

      “The one who drives the Mustang, Dad. His name is Vince, and he owns a garage over on Seventh Street and…”

      “And you can’t think about anything but him.”

      Cara smiled up at her father. “Yes.”

      “Sounds a little like love to me, Princess,” Roshan replied, and felt a sudden ache deep in his heart. This was the first time he’d seen that look in her eye or heard the excitement of first love in her voice. He had always known the day would come when another man would appear to take her away from him. Was this the man?

      “Does it? Was that how it was for you with Mom? Did you know, the very first time you saw her, that she was the one?”

      Roshan nodded. He had been on the verge of destroying himself when he fell in love with Brenna Flanagan’s picture. His need to know more about her, to find out who she was and where she had lived and how she had died, had become his sole reason for survival. She had quite literally saved his life. Ah, Brenna, was there ever another woman like her? She had given him a reason to go on living. She had given him a daughter…

      He stroked Cara’s cheek. “Are we going to meet this young man?”

      “Do you want to?”

      What he wanted to do was send the man far away, erase him from Cara’s mind. He wasn’t ready for his daughter to leave home, didn’t think he would ever be ready, but it was the way of the world and so, with a smile, he said, “I think so.”

      “When?”

      “Preferably before the wedding,” he said dryly.

      “Oh, Daddy!” She gave him a playful punch on the arm. “We aren’t getting married. I hardly know him. We’re just…you know, friends. How did you and Mom meet?”

      “The first time I saw your mother, she was dancing. I took one look and I was smitten…”

      “Smitten! Oh, Daddy, how melodramatic.”

      “But true, nonetheless. I saw her and I knew I had to have her.”

      “Smitten.” Cara shook her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone actually use that word. Did Mom feel the same about you?”

      “Not at first, but I soon won her over.”

      “I’m not surprised.”

      “No?”

      “Of course not. You’re very sexy. For an old man,” she added with a grin.

      Old, he thought. She had no idea. “So, when do we get to meet this new man in your life?”

      She started to say Sunday, then remembered that she had a date with Anton and no way to contact him so she could break it, although she might be able to get in touch with him by calling his mother’s bookstore. She frowned thoughtfully. She had no way to get in touch with Vince, either, unless she went by the garage. “I’ll talk to Vince and get back to you.”

      “All right.” Leaning forward, he kissed her cheek. “Good night, Princess.”

      “Night, Dad.”

      Roshan blew out a sigh as his daughter left the room. If centuries of experience had taught him anything, it was that nothing stayed the same, but this was one change he wasn’t looking forward to.

      Chapter 9

      Serafina sat on the floor in the back of her shop, opening boxes. Since she had discovered eBay, every day was like Christmas. It was amazing, all the weird and wondrous things you could find for sale there. Of course, her passion was books. The boxes she was opening now contained a collection of books she had purchased from a seller on eBay who claimed that the books had originally belonged to the seller’s great-great-grandmother, who had been a practicing witch.

      Serafina removed the books from the boxes reverently. One by one, she thumbed through them, thrilled with what she saw. The books were indeed old and rare, some so old they had been written in longhand.

      One especially caught her eye. It was a book of ancient mystical blood rituals. There were spells for curing warts and insomnia and for healing a variety of illnesses, most of which no longer existed. There were love spells, of course. What witch hadn’t been approached for a charm that would win the love of another? The last part of the book was dedicated to dark Magick.

      Serafina hesitated to turn the page. She had been taught that witchcraft should only be used for good, but curiosity finally won out. She turned the pages, scanning them quickly, until she came to the last page.

      The words seemed to blur before her eyes.

      An Incantation to Raise the Dead

      On All Hallow’s Eve, between dusk and dawn,

      The blood of kin must be drawn,

      Nine drops, no more, no less,

      The blood of kin you must bless.

      To this the blood of love you add,

      And the blood of an enemy, it must be had.

      Seven drops of each, one by one,

      Quickly now, it must be done.

      Four drops of a maiden’s blood,

      Rosemary for remembrance,

      An infant’s blood, three drops for life anew.

      A sprinkling of yarrow, a dash of rue.