Read Online A Stroke Of Magic by Tracy Madison - Free Book Online Page A

she’d almost placed on the man who’d hurt her, who’d abandoned her, was forgotten. Now, all that was in her mind, in her heart, was her unborn baby. A daughter. Her daughter.
    Through Miranda’s mind, I saw her daughter as a baby just born. And then, I saw her daughter, and then the next. This last daughter was my great-grandmother, whom I only knew from pictures; and then came my grandmother, my mother and my sister, along with other women I didn’t recognize but somehow knew to be family, connected to me in some form or fashion. They all appeared before me at lightning speed, in a vision that didn’t make any sense. At the tail end, another baby appeared, and I saw her grow into a little girl. She had big brown eyes and chubby cheeks, and a smile that melted my heart. In barely a breath, I knew who she was.
    My daughter.
    I hadn’t thought I was ready to see an image of my child, but now? I wanted to stare at her, memorize every detail, and pull her into my arms; but the vision abruptly ended, leaving me with an ache—an empty place deep inside—and it hurt like nothing I’d yet known. Miranda’s lips moved again. The power returned, and while it was just as strong as before, it didn’t scare me. It didn’t fill me with foreboding or urge me to scream out warnings. Instead, it washed over me in a hazy glow, like a rainbow appearing after a storm on a sunny day. This display of power had an enchanted feel—without darkness, without evil.
    As her lips continued to move, the colors grew brighter, the power stronger. I watched, once again completely enthralled. While I couldn’t hear her voice, I heard her thoughts as if she spoke them directly to me.
    A gift, from daughter to daughter, to be passed on through the generations. The gift of magic. My gift. My magic. My daughters. My legacy.
    Somehow, I understood that this was the message I was meant to hear. But even with that knowledge, I couldn’t quite grasp it fully. It hovered there like a pesky mosquito I couldn’t squash, evading me at every turn. Before I could give it any further thought, the scene below me changed yet again. The colors and the energy still swirled together, like a rainbow whipping around at top speed, but the colors strengthened in hue to a brilliance I couldn’t see through. Shielding my eyes with one hand, I tried to see past the glare, past the brightness, to no avail. My eyes watered, the wetness seeping out, dripping down my cheeks.
    Ringing filled my ears. Loud, obtrusive, it went on and on. I cringed at the sharpness of the noise and moved my hands to cover my ears. At first I didn’t recognize the sound, because it didn’t belong in this place, in this time. The second I realized what the sound was, everything in front of me, everything around me, stopped, as if I’d hit the pause button on my DVD player.
    The energy pulled at me, tugged at me, and with one hard yank I was only myself again, on my couch, clutching the rose petal in my fist. The phone still rang, blaring through the room incessantly. My sister? It had to be. And for that, I was grateful.
    With a trembling hand, I reached for it. “What took you so long? You won’t believe what happened.” My voice came out in a rush, the words merging so that they were almost incomprehensible. I inhaled deeply and gave it another go. “I need you to come over here now. No ifs, ands, or buts. Just do it.” After a thought I added, “Please.”
    When she didn’t answer immediately, my exasperation climbed to a whole new level. “Are you there? Why didn’t you tell me about Miranda? And the gift?”
    Still no reply. And really, the fact she hadn’t answered should have been enough to clue me in that I’d been mistaken about the caller’s identity. Sadly, it didn’t. I was too preoccupied for coherent thought. “Elizabeth?”
    “Have I phoned at a bad time?” The sexy Irish drawl held a bit of humor, along with a touch of concern.
    Heat rushed my face,