Around three hundred years ago, Gabriel and his seven living siblings—Tobias, Rowan, Alexander, Nathaniel, Xavier, Sylas, and Colin—had been evicted from their world and sent to Earth by their evil and ruthless mother, Eleanor, under the pretext that she was saving them from their malevolent uncle who’d murdered their oldest brother Marius at his would-be coronation. But in February, Raven and Gabriel had discovered everything they’d been told by their mother was a lie. She’d sent her children, the Treasure of Paragon as they were called in their world, to Earth so she could keep the throne for herself. They’d spread out across the globe, believing that diluting their magic in the human world would keep them safe from detection. Over time, the eight lost touch with each other.
Now Gabriel was working tirelessly to reunite his family. And although he did not speak about it frequently, he seemed more inclined by the day to challenge his mother for the throne.
Which was none of Avery’s business really, considering she was a simple human who was connected to Raven by blood and Clarissa, Nathaniel’s mate, by a magical bond. They were the three sisters, a bound trio. Unlike Avery, Raven and Clarissa were extremely powerful witches. The only special skill Avery had ever possessed was the ability to comfort Raven and Gabriel’s baby… well, technically, their egg. The half dragon, half witch hadn’t hatched yet. For some reason, Avery was the only one besides Raven and Gabriel who could hold the egg without getting zapped by its defensive magic.
Which brought her to this moment. She’d decided to remain in London, living in Nathaniel’s place, Mistwood Manor, at least until Raven’s baby was born. She also desperately wanted to explore the magical connection she shared with Raven and Clarissa.
What would it be like to have magic? Since she’d learned of Raven and Clarissa’s powers, she’d questioned whether she was somehow defective. Was she a dud? A cosmic mistake? Not only was she completely without magic, her human existence was equally dull and ordinary, a truth that came sharply into focus in Nathaniel’s bookstore, which specialized in the extraordinary.
Her phone vibrated in her back pocket, and she brought it to her ear with a cheery greeting.
“Thank you again for watching the shop while we’re away, Avery,” Clarissa said. “We owe you one.”
Clarissa was legally obligated to perform one more show for her record label, this one in Italy, and she and Nathaniel had left that morning. Normally, Nathaniel’s store manager, Albert, would take over while Nathaniel was gone, but the man was ill with some sort of stomach bug. Avery had agreed to fill in during his absence.
It was the least she could do considering Nathaniel had opened his home to her these past weeks, sheltering and feeding her with no expectation that she do a single thing to repay the favor. Sure, she’d worked here for him a handful of times and made some calls for Clarissa in support of her new indie music venture, but all in all, she spent her days riding Nathaniel’s horses, soaking in his heated pool, or wandering aimlessly through his orchard without contributing one shilling for her upkeep.
“Don’t think twice about it, Clarissa. I’m having a blast. The people-watching in Cecil Court alone is worth the effort. It wasn’t like I had anything else going on tonight.” In fact, there was nothing on her calendar at all. She’d taken a leave of absence from her job working with her mother at the Three Sisters Bar & Grill and hadn’t a clue what she might like to do next with her life. She understood this couldn’t go on forever, but she refused to think about when it had to end.
“Well, thanks again. Nathaniel and I know the shop is in good hands. Oh, before I forget, I told Emory to stop by with some dinner for you. He’s going to stay in London and run a few errands for Nathaniel until it’s time to drive you back to Mistwood. He should be there with the best curry you’ve ever tasted within the hour.”
“That’s so sweet.” Avery loved Nathaniel’s driver, Emory, and looked forward to him stopping in. Plus curry was a favorite. “Have a great show and tell Nathaniel not to worry about a thing.”
“Thanks. Love ya.”
“Love you too.” There was a click and the call ended. Avery smiled. The exchange of I love yous between Clarissa, Raven, and herself had come naturally over their time together. They were as close as sisters could be despite Clarissa not being related by blood. Avery called her a “sister from another mister.” She couldn’t remember what it was like before the woman had come into her life.
The bell over the door dinged and Avery whirled, thinking it must be Emory with dinner. Instead, a reedy man in a stained T-shirt that used to be white stood in the door.
“Welcome to Relics and Runes. Can I help you find anything?”
He didn’t answer her. A muscle in his cheek jerked. His lashes fluttered.
An uneasy feeling wormed in Avery’s gut. The man standing before her seemed agitated and unkempt. His red-rimmed eyes darted around the room. The stench of cheap alcohol and cigarettes met her nose. Avery’s gaze caught on his inner arm where track marks and fresh punctures marred his skin.
Her smile faded.
“Can I help you?” she asked again softly. Her gaze darted out the window to the people passing by in jackets. The weather hadn’t changed, and his short sleeves seemed utterly inadequate. Maybe he’d stopped in to warm up. The poor man was obviously in distress. “Are you hungry? Do you need a place to sit down for a minute?”
The twitch in the man’s face grew more pronounced, and he turned around as if he might leave. He placed his hand on the knob, but instead of opening the door, he turned the lock and flipped the sign on the window to Closed.
When he turned back around, a knife had appeared in his hand. “You can help me by giving me what’s in the till.”
Their eyes locked. She had only compassion for the man, but what she saw in his visage was anything but kindness. Survival instinct kicked in, trumping any concern she might have had. She rushed for the back door, but before she could open it wide enough to get through, his hand slapped above her head and slammed her into it, cutting off her escape.
His rank breath hit her face. “Where do you think you’re going, huh?” He spun her around and pressed the knife to her throat.
One thing she’d learned working in a bar for so many years was how to handle threatening situations. She’d dealt with her share of drug addicts and alcoholics as well as drunk men who simply wouldn’t take no for an answer. The key was to remain calm. She slowed her breathing and looked him straight in the eye, flashing her warmest, most practiced smile. “Let me move to the register. I’ll give you what you want.”
His eyes narrowed, and he pressed the blade harder against her skin. Warm blood dribbled along her neck, and she resisted the urge to wipe it away. His eyes flicked to her breasts. “You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?”
Her skin crawled. Avery knew she was in trouble. If she somehow made it to the front door, could she unlock it and get out before he sank that knife in her back? He shifted the blade, moving it from her throat a fraction of an inch as he tried to get a better look at her chest. She didn’t give him a chance. Crossing her arms in front of her hips, she circled them, thrusting his knife-holding arm up and away from her as her knee barreled into his crotch with every ounce of force she could produce. His body doubled over from the pain. She used the opportunity to catch his arm by the wrist and thrust it up the center of his back.