Excerpt from Morgan’s Wand
Daughters of the Circle Bonus Short-Story
Morgan never imagined she’d be drawn to a wand. She’d couldn’t remember giving it much thought. So, when it arrived at the front door of the manor in a long, beautiful, ornate box, she stared at it, thinking how beautiful the box looked—and the wand too—nestled in the impression where it sat.
The box intrigued her, in itself, made up as it was of intricate molded metal, in deep reds and gunmetal gray, the interior a deep, rich black velvet. Other than that, she never gave it another thought. Yet over the next several hours, something surprising happened.
First, she kept getting pulled back to the room where she’d set it over the fireplace mantel. Several times, she found herself standing in front of it, having had no conscious thought of going there. When she did, she’d become aware she just stood there, staring at the impressions in the metal of the box. Then, she’d find herself taking it down and opening the box, just to stare at the wand. She felt something from it. She sensed this connection caused her to keep being tugged toward it.
Each time the connection grew stronger—and stronger still.
Looking down at it, now, cool against her fingers, she realized that she might not know where this wand had come from—or why—but she’d held it before—had owned this wand before…. If a wand could be owned, that is.
Frowning, she stared at it. She certainly hoped that this wand hadn’t come into her life to start trouble. Not just when she’d made up her mind, now more than ever, to have a normal, magick free life—at least for a while. She’d hate to think that it showing up on her doorstep meant something was amiss—again.
At the very least, she needed a short break from magick.
There were four of them, who did magick. She and her sister, Claire, Tara, who’d always known she was a witch—and Sophia. Then, there was Alex and the twins. They’d grown up together in the small town of Red Bluff, before being separated one fateful day, playing around with magick.
They’d just gotten their aunt back—for heaven’s sake—after losing her to their very first enemy, Dante. Now—Sophia, who was half faery, half witch, and a lifelong sister-witch, and who had also moved into Ravenwood Manor, was still with the Prince of Fire and his group—because of that stinking no-account Fae Prince, who couldn’t take no for an answer when he’d up and decided to make her one of the members of his little harem.
They needed a break—a big one for heaven’s sake—from magick….
Now this.
The more she stared at it—the more she had the growing sensation this didn’t bode well for them. That this meant something more was in store—already.
Morgan set the wand in its velvet nest. Shaking her head, she closed the lid with a snap.
Oh, no, she thought. She wouldn’t be drawn into yet another battle—no matter what the wand thought it had in store for her.
She placed the box back on top the mantel, squaring her shoulders. And with some determination, she left the room.
She found Alex in their bedroom, putting his clean clothes away. Sitting on the bed, she frowned, staring out the window. She sensed that her troubled thoughts got his attention, because he hesitated, halfway to the dresser with another pile. Setting the pile on top the dresser instead, he turned to look at her instead. “That wand still bothering you?” he said.
Glancing at him, she nodded, swallowing, then glancing away. “I have a feeling it means we’re in for something more,” she said, irritated. “And we haven’t even finished with the last bit of trouble we’ve uncovered.”
He nodded, sitting down on the bed and pulling her into his arms. Alex bent and gave her a tender kiss, running his thumb along her jaw. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together,” he said, looking down into her eyes.
She tried for a smile, pulling away. “But that’s just it,” she said. “We’re not together—not anymore. And who knows if we’ll ever get Sophia back.” She got up from the bed, turning to look at him in her agitation. “That prince may never give up on his obsession with her.”
He got up from the bed, pulling her into his arms. Looking down at her, he pulled her flush with his body. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised, leaning down to give her a tender kiss.
She gazed up into his dark eyes. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” she asked.
He grinned at that, but then he sobered. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” he repeated back to her.
She leaned up on her tiptoes, kissing him. She felt the blessing of his love wrap itself around her. She felt the answering call within her body. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him back with everything she had.
She knew he was right. If they stuck together—they could get through anything. But she sure wished someone out there would give them a break.
An hour later, they left the bedroom, hand-in-hand. Down in the kitchen, they found Claire busy preparing dinner. She glanced up at them, as they came through the door.
“I heard someone has given you a wand,” Claire said to her.
Morgan nodded, not liking the reminder. She’d just managed to get her mind off that thing. “Have you seen it?” she asked her sister.
Claire nodded. “Jake told me where it was,” she said with some excitement evident in her tone. “I had to go and peek,” she said.
Morgan shook her head, going to take the plates out of the cupboard. “How can you be so happy about this?” Morgan asked, glancing at her as she worked.
Alex took the plates from her and went to set them on the dining room table in the other room. As always, she felt a surge of love for him, realizing he was giving them some room to talk.
Claire glanced at her, from where she now stood in front of the countertop stove that sat on the island in the kitchen. She stirred the spaghetti sauce, then sniffed at the aroma curling up from the pot. “How can you not?” she said back to Morgan. “It’s so beautiful—and old—and it feels amazing,” she said.
Morgan stopped halfway through pulling the flatware out of the drawer. “We don’t even know where it came from….” She finished for her sister.
Claire wrinkled her nose. “Well, there is that,” she said. “But you have to be intrigued, none-the-less,” she said, looking at her sister expectantly.
Morgan frowned and shook her head. Finally, she shrugged. “Okay,” she admitted. “Yes—I am,” she glowered at her sister now. “But only because I remember that wand,” she pointed toward the living room.
Claire looked up sharply at her sister. “You do?”
Morgan nodded emphatically.
“From where?” Claire asked, suspicious now.
Morgan looked away, then back at her sister. “From a past life….”