Beneath An Ivy Moon (Legacy Of Magick Series, Book 4) (7 page)

Cypress left a short time later, promising to pick up some supplies for the protection work from her Aunt Marie. The shop stayed quiet after she left, so I skimmed through Dr. Meyer’s book. I took a few notes on the more interesting stories of sightings of Victoria Crowly’s ghost.

By the time five o’clock rolled around, my stomach was growling. I tucked the book and all my notes in my purse and started to run the closing reports. With Bran, Lexie and the baby out of town for the weekend, and Aunt Faye up in Hannibal visiting friends, my original plan to nab some takeout, stop by the manor to feed and water Merlin, and spend the evening watching a DVD in solitary splendor didn’t seem very appealing to me anymore. I felt the need to be around people, and noise.

I finished the closing paperwork and let myself out the front door of the shop about a half hour later. The September sun slanted down brightly as I locked the front door. I stuck my big, black floppy hat on my head and checked my reflection in the display window. I dropped the keys in my bag and fished my compact out. I reapplied some lipstick in a matte crimson shade, and powdered my nose while I was at it.

I stowed the cosmetics, pulled the brim of the hat down a bit lower, and, satisfied with my appearance, strolled off, comfortable in my black converse sneakers. There were plenty of restaurants and bars doing a brisk business tonight, I noted. I could always pop in somewhere and grab a meal. Then afterwards, I’d drop by the manor. Following my intuition, I turned left and started to wander.

I’d maybe gone a block when I spotted
The Old World Pub
. A popular establishment with both locals and tourists. I saw that tonight the outdoor seating was full. But as I glanced through the windows, I found two empty spots at the far end of the bar. I tugged open the heavy wooden doors and waved at the hostess, she nodded and left me to seat myself.

The bartender, Miriam, flashed a smile as she placed a menu in front of me. “Hey, it’s my favorite goth girl.”

I tipped my sunglasses down. “I’ll have a Dr. Pepper, dah—ling,” I over pronounced the word for dramatic effect.

“Good day at the shop?” she asked.

“Quiet today.” I tucked my sunglasses in the neck of my shirt.

“The new window display at the shop is great. I saw you working on it when I came in to work today.” Miriam set a soft drink in front of me while I perused the menu. I ordered a club sandwich and sweet potato fries, and sat at the bar chatting with Miriam, and swinging my foot in time to the Irish music that was playing.

Casually, I scanned the other patrons. At a tall four-top table a trio of Frat boys sat together drinking beer and talking loudly. They were borderline obnoxious, and all probably newly twenty-one years old.

While I couldn’t scan their minds like my cousin Autumn, or even read their emotions like my twin sister could— I didn’t have to. The energy they were pushing out was rude, and just this side of drunk. They called loudly for their waitress and I saw Miriam give a little head shake to their server.
The boys had been cut off.
I shifted slightly in my chair, acted as if I hadn’t noticed them. I lifted my pentagram from my shirt and slid it back and forth on my chain while I thought over my conversation with Cypress.

A moment later the last remaining barstool was claimed, and I glanced over to see a man wearing a navy blue bandana tied around his head. He had straight brown hair that peeked out of the bottom of the headscarf. He wore khaki shorts, work boots and a purple University t-shirt. I guessed he’d probably been working outside all day. I appreciated the view and smiled at him when he turned on the bar stool to look me fully in the face.

His dark, horizontal brows lowered, and steel blue eyes blinked at me in recognition. “You,” he grumbled.

“The name, is Ivy,” I said, my heart doing a little dance. He was every bit as attractive as he’d been that day I’d photographed him, scowling at me under the dogwood tree. I dropped my pendant, and raised an eyebrow at him.

He narrowed his eyes. “No camera today, Ivy?”

“Nope.” I spread my hands. “See? I’m unarmed.”

He laughed at that. “I feel safer already.” As I watched, he seemed to catch himself. He ordered an iced tea from Miriam, glanced back at me, and the smile slid away.

Why was he fighting the laugh?
I wondered.
It did wonderful things to his face.
I smiled at him anyway. “I never did catch
your
name.”

He picked up a menu, studied it with determination. “No, you didn’t,” he said straight faced.

Stymied, I drummed my fingernails against the bar top. “Are you always so unfriendly?” I asked him.

At my question he lifted his head and met my eyes. His gaze dropped pointedly down to the large silver pentagram my mother had given me, and back up to my face. “I’m not your type,” he sneered.

The disapproval I felt from him hit me harder than I would have expected. I’d encountered versions of the same criticism, and or narrow-mindedness since I was thirteen.
Maybe it was the gothic fashion, my snarky attitude, or possibly the pentagram that was putting him off...
it really didn’t matter. I sighed, gesturing to Miriam. “Can you make my order to go?”

He silently rolled his eyes at me and reached for his tea.

I tugged my wallet from my purse to settle the bill. By the time I’d pulled out the cash, my food was in a bagged to-go box— like magick. I handed Miriam the money. “Keep the change,” I said.

I stood and gathered my food. “Have an enchanted evening,” I said, as he set the drink back down. I pulled my hat down more securely on my head, and with a flourishing gesture, made his glass of iced tea slide farther down the bar. He blinked, and did a double take.

“Humph.” I sailed out of the pub with my nose in the air.

What an asshole!
I stomped back down Main Street.
I should have made his drink tip over in his lap while I was at it...
I smiled, cheered at the thought.
Too bad about the condescending attitude— not to mention the permanent stick up his ass, because he was one of the best looking guys I’d met in a long time.

The crowds thinned out as I walked closer to
Enchantments
. The sun was behind the buildings now, and I ducked down the brick alley to take a shortcut to our little parking lot behind the store. As I stormed back to my car, I worked out a dozen clever, pithy comebacks that I could have said to Mr. Congeniality.

I was digging in the bottom of my purse and my fingers had only folded over the car keys, when I heard steps behind me. I saw the three Frat guys from the pub were standing at the top of the alley. And they were staring at me.
Shit.

“Where you going, witchy-girl?” The tallest of them flashed me a smile.

“Don’t be shy!” the second one called out as they started to lurch down the alley towards me.

“I’m not shy— just not interested,” I said, walking to the hood of my old red Fiesta. I had the keys out, but before I could get to the drivers door to unlock it, the third guy came around from the back of the car. They had boxed me in.

“Don’t be so unfriendly,” the third guy said.

Hearing my own words repeated back to me made me sick to my stomach,
and
it really pissed me off. I dropped my purse, keys, and the food so my hands would be free, “You boys have made a major mistake.” I planted my feet and flung both hands out to my sides. Magick filled up my hands with an almost visible energy.

“Waz that?” One of the guys pointed at my hands.

He must be a sensitive, or the alcohol had lowered his shields.
Regardless, I swung my eyes back and forth, wondering who to zap first. I struggled to maintain control, even as I closed my fists around the energy and prepared to strike out defensively.

Suddenly guy number three was pulled back and away from me. He went tumbling backwards and fell hard on the blacktop. I blinked and discovered that my rescuer was none other than the scowling, bandana wearing, Mr. Congeniality.

“Walk away,” he growled at the two remaining Frat boys.

“Actually, I’d run if I were you.” I turned towards them, blocking my rescuer’s view. I threw my hands forward and open simultaneously, and my magick shot out hitting
exactly
where I’d intended. The two remaining guys bent over as one, each clutching their balls. They stumbled away from me as fast as they could.

I watched the three of them stagger off, and as soon as they lurched up the alley I let myself exhale. I steadied myself against the hood of the car with one hand and squinted up at my rescuer. “Thanks for the assist,” I managed as black and white spots swam in front of my eyes. My ears buzzed and I felt slightly sick.

“Hey!” he gave my shoulder a little shake. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I’d never raised and thrown defensive energy on my own that quickly before, and I fought to stay upright.
Holy crap,
I thought.
Maybe I should stick with telekinesis,
because this throwing energy solo shit really knocks you on your ass.
I blinked and shook my head to clear it. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw them follow you out of the Pub,” he said.

I suddenly realized he was still holding my arm, and I tried to pull my arm away. “Why the hell would you even care?”

He let go of my arm immediately, and held up his hands. “Easy, easy. I was simply concerned for you.”

I squinted up at him and said nothing.

“Look, if you walk around dressed like a girl from the coven in that TV horror show...” his words trailed off.

I clapped a hand to the crown of my floppy black hat and pushed it back down in place. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I said, firing up again.

“It means that you’re bound to attract the wrong kind of attention.” He scooped up my purse and the bag of food from the ground and held them out.

“Think you’ve got me pegged, don’t you?” I saw my keys lying in the gravel a few feet away. “You know
nothing
about me.” I said, holding my hand out. I used my telekinesis and the keys shot straight up hitting my hand with a loud snap— right in front of him.

He jumped back from me. “God damn it! You
are
a real practitioner!”

I blinked at his choice of words. “Yes, I am. And you sir, are a real asshole.” I unlocked my car, snatched the bags away from him, and tossed my things inside.

“Wait.” He grabbed the car door before I could get in. “Hang on. What’s your family line?” His voice was low and urgent.

“Dude, what is with you?” My head was still spinning, both in reaction from the self defense magick, and from his conflicting reactions.

“You caught me off guard. Your last name, what is it?” he asked.

I scoffed at that. Telling another magickal practitioner your full name was not something that was casually done, because names held power. “Do I look like a novice?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Yes actually, you do.” He scowled down at me, even more disapproving than before. “You use your powers out in the open, and you dress like a wanna-be.”

Returning the favor I looked him over, deliberately. “Such a harsh critique from an obvious fashion icon... I’m devastated.”

He almost smiled. “Who are you?”

“Give me your name first,” I countered.

“Nathan Pogue,” he said.

Nathan Pogue. N P...
I realized with a jolt.
Autumn had doodled those initials on the side of that note paper she’d given me the other day.
I stared up into those steel-blue eyes, and despite myself felt a little tingle all the way down to my feet. I covered it with attitude. “And your family line?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

“My lineage comes from my father’s Irish ancestry and from my mother’s family— Osborne.”

I recognized the old Colonial name.
So... Mr. Congeniality’s mama was descended from the earliest of American Witches.
Straightening up, I met his eyes. “My family line includes Jacobs and Bishop,” I said quietly and with pride. “My name is Ivy Bishop.”

I watched his eyes widen as my announcement sank in. He drew in a long breath. “You’re a
Bishop
? By the old gods...”

His reaction made me feel offended all over again. “Jerk,” I said, shaking my head at his shocked expression.

“Is Bran Bishop your brother?” Nathan asked

“Yes,” I said, scowling up at him. Technically, Bran was my cousin, but my mother had adopted him when he was little, which
also
made him my brother. But this was hardly the time, the place, or even the person to whom I’d consider explaining the complicated twist of my family tree.

“I need to speak to your brother, right away,” he announced.

I’d had enough intrigue for one day. Instead of answering him, I ducked under his arm, climbed in my car, yanked the door out of his grasp and started up the Fiesta.

His polite knocking on my window was the last thing I expected. “Ivy,” he said.

“What?” I shouted over the engine.

He motioned for me to roll down my window. “Listen, we need to talk. I really have been trying to contact your family.”

I didn’t roll down my window to answer him. Instead I cranked up the car stereo to blasting as he tried to continue speaking.

“Did you hear me?” he frowned at me.

I smiled when the song changed over to Meghan Trainor’s, “NO.” “Sorry, can’t hear you.” I mouthed the words to him, pointing to my ear.

He stood there gesturing wildly and obviously trying to shout over my music. I put my car in gear and backed up. I flipped him the bird, and whipped out of the parking lot. I headed straight to the manor, singing along with the song, never looking back.

CHAPTER FIVE

Merlin was waiting for me in his sentry position on the kitchen island when I arrived, and greeted me with a loud meow. I hung my hat on a hook in the potting room, carried my dinner into the kitchen, and went straight to the cat for some kitty comfort. I knew better than to scoop him up for a cuddle, Merlin wasn’t big on being held. So I leaned over and laid my forehead against his nose. “Hey Merlin.” He rubbed his face against mine, and gave a playful nibble to my hair.