Magic in Light Read online

  Magic in Light

  Supernatural Community

  Book One

  KRISTA STREET

  Copyright © 2019 by Krista Street

  All rights reserved.

  First published: December 26, 2019

  00 19 21 12 00

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, transmitted or distributed in any printed or electronic form, or stored in a database or retrieval system for any commercial or non-commercial use, without the author’s written permission.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and plot are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any places, business establishments, events or occurrences, are purely coincidental.

  Cover art by Covers by Combs.

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Power in Darkness

  Supernatural Community Series

  Thank you!

  Preface

  Magic in Light is a coming-of-age shifter paranormal romance and is the first book in the Supernatural Community series. Please note, these books get steamy! Even though the steam factor in Magic in Light is low, steaminess increases with each book in the series, therefore, the recommended reading age is 18+.

  Chapter 1

  The menacing words from the email stared back at me.

  Dear Ms. Gresham,

  Your time on this earth is ticking, witch. You’ll be dead by the end of the month. Tick tock. Tick tock.

  Your biggest fan.

  “Daria?”

  My head lifted from my laptop at the sound of my manager’s voice.

  Cecile appeared behind me in the dressing room mirror. “Your new bodyguard is here.” Her gray hair swept back from her face in a matronly bun. Worry lines tightened her mouth, making her lips pucker.

  Since this was the third death threat I’d received this week, I could understand her concern. I craned my neck to see around her. “Is he with you?”

  “He’s waiting outside. I wanted to make sure you were ready to see him.”

  “Yeah, I’m ready.” I pushed back my chair, the legs catching on the thin carpet.

  “You can stay here, Dar. I’ll bring him in.”

  Before I could protest, Cecile exited the tiny dressing room in our travel bus. The cheap brown paint covering the door peeled away from the surface, and the worn carpet had faded from years of too much sunlight. However, the bus ran and that was more important than any cosmetic appeal.

  With trembling fingers, I closed my laptop, but when I tried to set it aside, it nearly fell from my shaky grip.

  “Crap,” I whispered.

  After muttering a spell under my breath, my laptop lifted in the air, my telekinetic magic holding it aloft. It glided to where I stored it by the desk and landed safely on the scarred wood shelf.

  Forcing myself to take deep, steadying breaths, I peered out the window, hoping to catch a peek of my new bodyguard before he climbed aboard the bus.

  But when I cracked the blinds, there was no sign of him. What I did see was a lone gas station across the road. Racks of junk food and miscellaneous paraphernalia filled the windows. Behind the gas station lay endless plains and a sky bathed in red.

  We had pulled off some highway in rural southern Kansas, the scheduled pickup place to meet my bodyguard. I didn’t know the exact location. Tomorrow, we would be in western Nebraska after Mike drove us through the night.

  I let the blinds fall back into place and plopped onto the chair. My bright turquoise eyes stared back at me in the dressing room mirror, reflecting my worried mood. Just calm down, Dar.

  But that was easier said than done. Whoever my new guard was would be the first bodyguard I’d ever employed. Until recently, I’d never needed one.

  I studied myself and smiled sadly. The image staring back at me looked like a younger version of my mother. For centuries, my mother’s people had birthed only daughters, and we all looked similar—golden hair, startling turquoise eyes, pale skin, and small frames.

  If I ever had a daughter, she would be a near replica of me, and it wouldn’t be just my looks she would inherit. She would also acquire my telekinetic magic and my healing light. My magic, I could hide and only use when needed, but my healing light was my purpose.

  A purpose my mother and my nan had shared.

  I hung my head. I miss you both so much.

  The door to the dressing room squeaked open, startling me. Cecile appeared in the doorway, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. A few wispy strands of gray hair had escaped her normally tamed bun.

  “Daria, this is Logan Smith.” Cecile sidestepped, revealing a tall, dark-haired man behind her.

  My breath caught in my throat.

  He had to be at least six-three, and his shoulders were so broad they brushed the doorway. Thick dark hair covered his head. His complexion was unblemished, his features chiseled, and a large duffel bag hung over his shoulder.

  I swallowed my rush of awareness for how very … male … he was. Wow. I had no idea he would be so good looking.

  Shaking myself, I stood to greet him.

  According to Cecile, Logan Smith was twenty-five years old—four years older than I was—and had over six years of experience in security and came from a military background. He also came with a glowing resume and had passed his background check with flying colors. From here on, he would be traveling with us.

  And hopefully keeping me safe so I can continue my supernatural-healing tour.

  I held out my hand, knowing it would activate my gift but doing it anyway. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Daria Gresham.”

  I tensed, waiting for his touch. Once our skin connected, my healing light would escape from the chest I buried it in deep within my belly. Unlike my telekinetic magic, my healing light had proved unruly. The only times I willingly let my light out was during my healing sessions, but touch triggered it despite my attempts to control it. A handshake with Logan guaranteed that unpleasant sparks would shoot up my arms once we made contact.

  Still, social niceties required certain interactions, so I usually dealt with the unpleasant aftermath touch elicited. Besides, handshakes only lasted a second or two. Anyone could handle a second or two of pain.

  Logan’s hand engulfed mine, his palm rough and warm. “Nice to meet you, too, although I wish the circumstances were different.”

  My lungs seized, rendering speech impossible. I cringed. Waiting.

  Logan pumped my hand once, twice, then … he let go.

  The sparks never came.

  “Cecile’s told me you need protection.” Logan’s brown eyes grew alight with concern.

  Frowning, I let my arm fall back to my side. “Um … yeah, that’s right. I’ve been receiving death threats for the past few weeks.” I eyed his hand again. Did I really not respond to him? Shaking myself, I added, “And thanks for answering our ad and coming on such short notice. Cecile tells me you were formerly in the military but now do freelance work?”

  “That’s right. I’ve been working personal security for a few years.”


  My gaze unwillingly returned to his hand again. How come I didn’t respond?

  Cecile gave me a curious look before waving toward the bunk beds in the back. “The plan is for you to stay with us on the bus.”

  Logan hoisted his duffel bag higher. “That’s what I’m counting on. I can’t do my job if I’m not close.”

  Cecile stepped forward. “If you’ll follow me, I can show you where to set your things.”

  Logan gave me a small smile then trailed behind Cecile from the dressing room. I stepped to the doorway to watch, my frown deepening.

  Logan showed no outward reaction to our bus’s grim interior on his way to the back. Even though our home on the road was clean, it was old. More than one visitor had wrinkled their noses at it.

  I nibbled my lip and, against my better judgment, allowed myself a moment to study him. Faded, sturdy boots covered his feet. They were the kind of boots that would allow him to run at a moment’s notice but also plant a firm kick. Worn jeans hugged his lean waist and firm backside.

  His fitted dark T-shirt awarded me a view of his strong back muscles bunching and tightening beneath the thin material when he moved. I bit my lip more, my stomach tightening. Damn, he’s hot.

  But as soon as that thought came, I shook it off. He was also my employee, and I’d hired him for his competence, not his good looks.

  What the heck’s the matter with you, Dar?

  I returned to the desk to ponder my reaction, or rather non-reaction, to Logan’s touch. I figured it was a fluke, but the sight of my closed laptop on the scarred wooden shelf made any curiosity about my new bodyguard disappear.

  My heart pounded, the staccato feeling growing more common every day. “Your time on this earth is ticking, witch. You’ll be dead by the end of the month.”

  “Daria?” Cecile’s voice carried from the back of the bus. “Logan wants to speak to you.”

  I shook off my thoughts and slipped my shoes on before retreating to where Cecile and Logan waited by the bunks. I passed the two couches at the front, along with the kitchen and the tiny table that could seat four since the bunks lay in the back. Our home was small, cramped at times, but it fulfilled our needs.

  The carpet slid under my feet, and my stomach fluttered the closer I got to Logan. There was just something … about him.

  Logan stepped to the side to make room for me when I approached. I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. The top of my head barely reached his collarbone. The fluttering in my stomach increased just as the hiss of the door came from the front.

  Mike jumped up the stairs. “Are we ready to hit the road?” His bushy black hair rested on his shoulders, hanging down from beneath his baseball cap. He’d worn the same New York Yankees cap for the past nineteen years.

  “Excuse me.” Cecile bustled past Logan and me on her way to the front. “Yes, Mike. We’re ready to go. I just want to review our itinerary one more time.”

  Mike rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Yes, yes … I figured you would.” When he caught me watching him, he winked.

  I smothered a smile and Logan cocked an eyebrow. I hurried to explain my amusement. “Cecile micromanages everything, and if she ever does it to you, don’t take it personally. She’s like that with everyone.”

  “Good to know.” He scratched his jaw, and a moment of silence passed while Cecile and Mike’s soft conversation drifted to us. Logan dropped his hand and leaned against his bunk. “Do you employ both of them as well or are they related to you?”

  “No, they’re not related, but I consider them family. Cecile was my mother’s best friend and is like a second mom to me.”

  When Logan’s gaze didn’t waver, I added, “She’s also very dedicated to her job and is fiercely protective of everything involved in my healing tour. She books the clients I see, keeps us on schedule, makes sure I eat, and all that stuff. She’s super organized, and honestly, I would be lost without her. Essentially, she’s the perfect manager.”

  A lock of dark hair fell across Logan’s forehead. “Ah, your manager. That explains it, and I kind of suspected she was organized from my interview with her. If she ever decides to find a new career, she should consider joining the Marines.”

  I laughed, the sound startling me. Given all that had transpired since the death threats began, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed.

  Logan’s eyes twinkled. “And what about Mike? Is he the driver?”

  “Yeah. Mike’s similar to Cecile. He’s not a relation, but he’s been in my life for as long as I can remember.”

  Logan lifted an arm to prop against his bunk. His bicep bulged.

  Damn. So. Hot.

  For a moment, I stood there tongue-tied before mentally slapping myself and saying in a rush, “So yeah, a long time ago, my mom healed Mike’s mother in a session, but he didn’t have the money to pay her, so he offered to drive us for a few months, and a few months turned into nineteen years. He’s known me since I was a baby, and he’s kind of like a father to me—”

  I clamped my mouth shut. Why was I still talking? I sounded like a blubbering moron, but Logan merely watched me with an amused twinkle in his eyes.

  I gave him a weak smile. “So both Cecile and Mike are kind of like family to me—the only family I have now.”

  “And your healing tours, what are those? I take it that’s where I’ll be guarding you?”

  “Yep, exactly.” I twisted my hands.

  Seriously, stand still!

  Forcing my arms back to my sides, I added, “The tours are my job. My entire life’s work is dedicated to healing those who are chronically or terminally ill. I use my gift to cure them.”

  I tensed, waiting for his reaction. Those who didn’t believe in my light assumed I was a fraud, taking advantage of the weak and depraved. And I never spoke of or demonstrated my telekinetic magic. That would garner too much attention, never mind that my spells were something I rarely used anyway. The Gresham women’s focus had always been on our healing light.

  But the judgmental, scornful look that I’d grown accustomed to seeing in strangers’ eyes never materialized in Logan’s, but the twinkle in his gaze faded, his expression turning serious again. “I’ll do my best to keep you safe so you can continue working. Now, should we sit? I’d like to hear more about what’s happened and why you’ve hired me.”

  I picked at my fingers again, despite telling myself not to, and nodded toward the dressing room. “You can have a look for yourself. According to the latest threat, I’ll be dead within the month.”

  Chapter 2

  When I turned to guide Logan back to the dressing room, my mouth parted. Mike and Cecile stood immobile at the front of the bus. They stared in our direction, no doubt having heard our entire exchange. Panic covered Cecile’s face. She’d been looking that way all month.

  When Cecile stepped my way, I subtly shook my head. I knew she wanted to ask Logan if going to the police was the best course of action. Mike felt the same, but I’d been fighting them on it for weeks and didn’t feel like getting into it.

  Gresham women never turned to the law for a reason.

  “This way,” I said to Logan.

  The scent of stale coffee hung in the air when we passed the kitchen. None of us had cleaned the coffee pot yet. Once we stood in the dressing room, Logan’s forearm brushed mine in the cramped space.

  I jumped back, out of habit more than anything, before my gift could activate.

  Logan raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

  “Yep, fine.” I forced a smile. It was not the time to explain that random touch always caused my healing light to escape from my internal storage chest.

  Logan’s large muscled arm reached for my laptop. “Is this your computer?”

  “That’s the one.”

  He picked it up. When the screen popped up for my password, he handed it over. I quickly typed it in, which got a heavy scowl from him.

  “Remind me to teach you about using secure passwords
.”

  My jaw dropped. “You saw my password?”

  “No, I didn’t watch, but considering it’s only four characters, I already know it’s not secure.” He took the laptop from me and pulled out the lone chair, indicating for me to sit down.

  So he’s incredibly observant. Good to know.

  I perched awkwardly on the chair’s edge while Logan stood with my laptop in hand. Given that my email pulled up as soon as the internet was open, I didn’t need to log in.

  He grumbled when he saw that. “The first thing we’re doing is having Internet Safety 101.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I know my stuff isn’t very secure, but I’ve never had to worry about security before.”

  His dark eyebrows drew together. “Everybody needs to worry about security in the world we live in.”

  An edge filled his tone, making me think he’d seen his fair share of what those threats were.

  Logan scanned the latest email. “When did you get this?”

  “This morning. It’s the third one this week, and they’re always from different email addresses.”

  “And is this your personal email? Or your work email?”

  “My personal. Cecile handles my work email. Only I have access to this one.”

  “Have you replied to any of these?”

  “No. Never.”

  “And do you have any idea who this could be? Do you have any enemies or know of someone who would want to hurt you?”

  Clasping my shaky hands, I replied, “No. Not that I know of.”

  He scanned the message again. “Are you sure your personal email isn’t shared somewhere online? Even the Dark Web?”

  I drew in a ragged breath. “I don’t know. I don’t think so, but I’ve had it for a few years, so … maybe?” I shrugged helplessly. The entire situation made me feel exactly that—helpless. It wasn’t something I was used to feeling, and I sure as hell didn’t like it.

  Logan crouched at my side and tilted the laptop for me to see. His scent drifted my way—sandalwood and foliage. He smelled like the woods after a light rain. It was a strangely alluring smell. “You said you’ve had three threats this week?”