Grave Magic by Lacey Thorn

Author:Lacey Thorn [Thorn, Lacey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Series
Publisher: Lacey Thorn Publishing
Published: 2018-10-08T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

Hudson doesn’t believe in magic. That was the thought circulating through Alice’s head as she sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, hugging them close to her chest. How could her body be so needy for his touch when his words broke her very soul? No magic? Her whole life was magic. It was the very core of who she was.

Hudson was relaxed in sleep. All the muscles she reveled in still prominent but softer as if they slept with him. He lay on his stomach, one arm thrown out toward her and the other curled under the pillow. She wanted to trace him with her fingers, to touch and caress every inch of him, but settled for perusing with her eyes. His black hair was cut short, though it was still lush and thick. His shoulders were wide, tapering down to his waist. His buttocks were full and firm, and she wanted to nibble at them. His legs were long and thick with muscle. Such perfection. And she wanted him, feared she might already be halfway in love with him. It had been one day. One long, invigorating day, but only one.

Her mother had always said life could change in a single day. People died in a day, were born in a day, and could fall in love in a day. Alice had never truly understood the gist of that until now. Slipping softly from the bed, she padded into the other room and grabbed her phone.

“Alice,” her mother answered on the first ring.

“Mother.”

There was silence as Alice tried to figure out what to say. Her mother didn’t have the same issue.

“It’s the moments that make the day. The week, the month, the year, the life. Each one is a tapestry woven together. Some good and some so bad they make you feel as if you’ve been torn asunder. Yet, each plays a part in the life you’re building.” She paused, sighed, then continued, “Tell me.”

“I’ve met someone,” Alice confessed.

Another sigh.

“Mother?”

“Did I ever tell you about the day I met your father?”

“No,” Alice replied, leaning forward, eager for the next words as only a child who’d been denied stories of her deceased father could be.

“I swept him off his feet. Quite literally.” She laughed heartily. Alice easily imagined Lucy Savoy wiping the tears from her eyes. “I was sweeping the front stoop, completely lost in some nonsensical story in my head, when he was just there. I flung the broom—out of fright, really—and knocked him right off his feet.” She paused again as more laughter filtered through the phone. “Then he looked up at me with such big green eyes, the same as yours, Alice. And I fell for him.”

Lucy paused again, and Alice pictured her, fingers spread at her throat, shoulders forward, chest pulled in, sadness in her gaze. It was the way she always reacted when Alice brought up her father. But unlike previously, her mother was sharing now.

“I met him at that house, loved him there, and lost him.

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