The Witches of New York: A Novel by Ami McKay

Author:Ami McKay [McKay, Ami]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Historical, Occult & Supernatural
ISBN: 9780062359926
Google: qlNpBgAAQBAJ
Amazon: 0062359924
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2017-07-11T04:00:00+00:00

Adelaide pinned a spray of pheasant feathers to the hat she planned to wear to accompany Beatrice to Dr. Brody’s house. Setting the velvet bonnet high atop her curls, she turned her head to appraise her work. Not too bold. Not too sweet. Just right. She was anxious to see how Beatrice would perform, pleased to be spending time with Quinn, again. When she’d gone to his house, he’d invited her to call him by his first name. Was that how she should address him today? With Beatrice along she figured she’d better stick with “Dr. Brody.” Inspecting her face in the mirror, she patted the slightest bit of rouge onto her lips. Then she mouthed the words, “You’re looking well today, Dr. Brody.”

What a brilliant creature he was! With such lovely eyes! Just thinking of him made Adelaide cross her ankles and tighten her thighs. He was endearingly shy, yet she knew he was hungry for her: he had a habit of biting his lip whenever his eyes dropped to her mouth. (Perhaps a little more rouge was in order?) No, today was to be about Beatrice.

She couldn’t help but think that the something she’d been feeling was about to happen had already begun and it had everything to do with the girl. When the dumb supper was over and their blood oath made, she’d snuck up to her room with what remained of the pear, and carefully plucked the seeds from its core. Then she’d placed the seeds one by one inside a small, slender phial and hung it by a chain around her neck. She’d worn the thing every day since, keeping the seeds close to her heart as if they were a religious relic. From time to time she’d shake the phial so she could hear the seeds rattle. To her, their tiny sounds were like the rumble of thunder, testifying that everything she’d seen, heard, smelled, touched and tasted that night was real. Was this what it was like to be spiritually transformed? If so, then she’d become a True Believer.

Although she didn’t profess to understand every device Quinn had shown her in his study, she’d learned quite a lot about the nature of his research, including his hopes of finding a medium who could get his father’s spiritoscope to work. In light of all she’d experienced during the dumb supper, it’d all seemed tremendously compelling and meant to be.

Too bad Eleanor wasn’t going to come with them for today’s visit, but she’d said an outright no. “You go. I’ll stay. Beatrice doesn’t need an audience watching her every move.” Adelaide had felt the sting of Eleanor’s disapproval, but she was convinced she was in the right. She’d been careful not to push or cajole Beatrice in any way. She was simply opening doors and allowing magic to blossom in an effort to help the girl discover her own path. Although her methods might not be ones that Eleanor preferred, Adelaide had to be true

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