Ghostland by Jory Strong

Author:Jory Strong [Strong, Jory]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, Horror & Ghost Stories
ISBN: 9780425226063
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2009-04-01T00:00:00+00:00

Eleven

AISLING studied the witches’ home from the safety of the cracked and broken sidewalk. Elaborate sigils were carved into the door and the window frames as well as the posts marking the front corners of the yard.

A short wrought-iron fence stood guard against the fey in a not so subtle warning. And though Aisling wasn’t magic sensitive, as some of the gifted were, she could feel the ley line humming through the souls of her feet, rising from the depths like a great whale close to breaching the surface of the ocean.

Tamara might have claimed her family didn’t practice black magic, but Aisling knew the Wainwrights were more than witches whose craft was tied to the elements and their goddess. At least some of them would be sorceresses, able to pull on the rich power pulsing through the ley line their house sat on.

Instinctively her fingers curled around the fetish pouch beneath her shirt. She glanced at Zurael and thought about returning from her trip into the spiritlands to find Tamara’s face tight with fear and her arms wrapped protectively around her swollen belly. At the time she’d attributed Tamara’s reaction to Zurael’s unexpected arrival and the menace radiating from him; now she wondered if Tamara had guessed what he was.

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to come with me,” Aisling said. “I haven’t got an affinity for spell magic, but I can feel a ley line close to the surface here. It’s strong enough to power any number of entrapment or revelation spells.”

Aziel nuzzled the side of her face in approval, then surprised her by jumping from her shoulder to Zurael’s, the unusual behavior making her wonder again about Aziel’s true purpose in giving her Zurael’s name.

“I can feel the line as well,” Zurael said, accepting the ferret’s presence without comment. “You won’t linger?”

“As soon as I tell them about the child at The Mission and either get their promise to retrieve Anya or the name of someone else to talk to about her, I’ll leave.”

“Your pet and I will wait out here then.”

Aisling pushed through the wrought-iron gate and walked to the front door. The decision to come here for help was an easy one to make. The only other gifted person she’d met since moving into the shaman’s house was Raisa. And given Father Ursu’s arrival minutes after Raisa’s departure and then the attacker who’d been waiting later, Aisling wasn’t prepared to trust the tearoom owner.

A thick brass gargoyle with a ring held in its mouth served as a door knocker. An older version of Tamara responded to Aisling’s use of it. She studied Aisling for only a second before looking past her and smiling slightly. “You must be Aisling. I’m Annalise, Tamara’s mother. She’s unavailable at the moment. Can I help you?”

“I hope so. I’m here about a child who needs a home.”

Dark eyebrows rose, the smile widened. Ice slid down Aisling’s spine with the impression that she’d been expected.

Annalise stepped out of the doorway and confirmed Aisling’s suspicion by saying, “Come in.

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