Home > Portals and Puppy Dogs(45)

Portals and Puppy Dogs(45)
Author: Amy Lane

Gabby paused as they were walking through the office to send the clip to the lawyers, to Chris, and—because she was evil in a way Alex could appreciate—to Facebook.

“I consider it a public service,” she said. “Now, Simon, you need to go to work—I’m taking Alex out for breakfast as a thank-you, and I don’t want anyone to blame you.”

“Blame me all they want,” Simon told her happily. “Alex, let’s hear it for witchcraft and good intentions.”

“And true love,” he said quietly, giving Simon a sideways look.

“And true love,” Simon replied, stopping right there in the middle of the office to kiss him soundly.

Alex was so carried away with the triumph—and with being in love with Simon Reddick—that he didn’t even think to object.

 

 

Help!

 

 

JORDAN looked nervously at the eclectic mix of herbs in the tape-marked star in the center of the cul-de-sac and at the five black, white, and red candles arranged like a shooting star, with onyx, garnet, and clear crystals in their midst.

They were making an unapologetic signal flare—calling to magic, calling to love, calling to purity, and hoping those were the things to answer back.

His coven gathered around him, including Lachlan and Simon because seven was powerful, and even if Simon didn’t have a hint of occult abilities, he had creativity and bravery, and those were a special sort of magic in themselves.

And that was seven—a coven of seven, even if it was makeshift—and all of them wanted the same thing.

They wanted their friends back.

Samhain was in twelve days. They had the perfect venue and the perfect moment of power in the Wiccan year. If they were going to cast a spell to pull two people from a pocket between two worlds, that was going to be the time. But Jordan’s coven needed help. He hadn’t wanted to admit it at first, had wanted to pull them all around him like he had during college, but the rift they’d caused with their lying spell had been too wide.

Simon was right. It was time to face the forces of magic in abject humility and beg for aid.

He reached out his hands and took in Alex on his left and Bartholomew on his right and then at everybody in their circle. The sun had about a minute before it would set, and they didn’t have any time left.

“Ready?”

They all nodded soberly.

He closed his eyes and lit the candles with a thought.

“Forces of good, of kindness and love, come help us in our need. So say we all and so mote it be.”

“So mote it be.”

The cone of light raised in their midst was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Bright rockets of light erupted, one after the other, seven of them in all. Each one, in a twirling rainbow of colors, rose above the cul-de-sac, did a pinwheel circle above their heads, and flew off.

Each one, one after the other, flew off in the same direction.

The sun set, the cul-de-sac lightened fractionally, protected once again from the darkness that encroached upon it, and Jordan’s friends and their lovers all sagged in his general direction.

“That’s exhausting,” Simon observed. “Seriously. I don’t see how you all function.”

Jordan smiled at him, grateful. Alex, for all his guardedness, had brought home someone forthcoming and honest and brilliant and generous with his praise. Together, they were like a shield against all the world could level at the small band of friends, and Jordan liked him immensely.

“Cookies,” Bartholomew said. “We’re cooking again tonight. This is mine and Lachlan’s busy season.”

Lachlan sighed. “I’m sorry, Tolly. I’ve got to—”

Bartholomew kissed him right there as the others filed into the house, and they left him to kiss his boyfriend goodbye. Lachlan had been such a good soldier, helping them all out, but he had his craft business and his own stock to fill. Simon was driving home with him—but first he was getting the bag of cookies Bartholomew had put aside for his friends and movie night.

Jordan’s circle of friends was growing, and while he was grateful that Bartholomew and Alex had found lovers and were happy, he could admit to a little bit of melancholy of his own.

He’d wanted to find someone for himself. Wasn’t that how this whole thing had started?

He shook that off, though, and they launched themselves into Bartholomew’s baking night per usual.

This night, there was a spark in them. Lachlan and Simon had given them all hope, and even if they weren’t there as the coven cast the spell, the strength they’d given Alex and Bartholomew still seemed to linger.

So there was some energy in the little group, some sparkle, as they sat around the table and sampled Bartholomew’s last batch of cookies for the craft fair in the morning.

There was a sizzle of anticipation zinging around them—but that didn’t mean they weren’t all shocked when, at two o’clock in the morning, a hard knock came at the door.

“Oh my God,” Bartholomew murmured, because they’d all seen it.

Seven times a fist pounded that door, and each time a different color of the rainbow lit up the doorframe as they watched.

Help had apparently arrived.

“On my way,” Jordan called, and as he stood, his eyes searched out those of his friends. “Are we ready?” he asked.

They all nodded soberly.

And with a quick prayer for strength—and a hope for humility—Jordan strode to the door to meet their fate.

 

 

Award winning author AMY LANE lives in a crumbling crapmansion with a couple of teenagers, a passel of furbabies, and a bemused spouse. She has too damned much yarn, a penchant for action-adventure movies, and a need to know that somewhere in all the pain is a story of Wuv, Twu Wuv, which she continues to believe in to this day! She writes contemporary romance, paranormal romance, urban fantasy, and romantic suspense, teaches the occasional writing class, and likes to pretend her very simple life is as exciting as the lives of the people who live in her head. She’ll also tell you that sacrifices, large and small, are worth the urge to write.

Website: www.greenshill.com

Blog: www.writerslane.blogspot.com

Email: [email protected]

Facebook: www.facebook.com/amy.lane.167

Twitter: @amymaclane

 

 

By Amy Lane

 

 

DREAMSPUN BEYOND

HEDGE WITCHES LONELY HEARTS CLUB

Shortbread and Shadows

Portals and Puppy Dogs

 

DREAMSPUN DESIRES

THE MANNIES

The Virgin Manny

Manny Get Your Guy

Stand by Your Manny

A Fool and His Manny

SEARCH AND RESCUE

Warm Heart

Silent Heart

Safe Heart

 

 

Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS

www.dreamspinnerpress.com

 

 

Now Available

 

 

Shortbread and Shadows

 


Hedge Witches Lonely Hearts Club: Book One

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