Read Online Beneath An Ivy Moon (Legacy Of Magick Series, Book 4) by Ellen Dugan - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ellen Dugan
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straight up hitting my hand with a loud snap— right in front of him.
He jumped back from me. “God damn it! You are a real practitioner!”
I blinked at his choice of words. “Yes, I am. And you sir, are a real asshole.” I unlocked my car, snatched the bags away from him, and tossed my things inside.
“Wait.” He grabbed the car door before I could get in. “Hang on. What’s your family line?” His voice was low and urgent.
“Dude, what is with you?” My head was still spinning, both in reaction from the self defense magick, and from his conflicting reactions.
“You caught me off guard. Your last name, what is it?” he asked.
I scoffed at that. Telling another magickal practitioner your full name was not something that was casually done, because names held power. “Do I look like a novice?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Yes actually, you do.” He scowled down at me, even more disapproving than before. “You use your powers out in the open, and you dress like a wanna-be.”
Returning the favor I looked him over, deliberately. “Such a harsh critique from an obvious fashion icon... I’m devastated.”
He almost smiled. “Who are you?”
“Give me your name first,” I countered.
“Nathan Pogue,” he said.
Nathan Pogue. N P... I realized with a jolt. Autumn had doodled those initials on the side of that note paper she’d given me the other day. I stared up into those steel-blue eyes, and despite myself felt a little tingle all the way down to my feet. I covered it with attitude. “And your family line?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.
“My lineage comes from my father’s Irish ancestry and from my mother’s family— Osborne.”
I recognized the old Colonial name. So... Mr. Congeniality’s mama was descended from the earliest of American Witches. Straightening up, I met his eyes. “My family line includes Jacobs and Bishop,” I said quietly and with pride. “My name is Ivy Bishop.”
I watched his eyes widen as my announcement sank in. He drew in a long breath. “You’re a Bishop ? By the old gods...”
His reaction made me feel offended all over again. “Jerk,” I said, shaking my head at his shocked expression.
“Is Bran Bishop your brother?” Nathan asked
“Yes,” I said, scowling up at him. Technically, Bran was my cousin, but my mother had adopted him when he was little, which also made him my brother. But this was hardly the time, the place, or even the person to whom I’d consider explaining the complicated twist of my family tree.
“I need to speak to your brother, right away,” he announced.
I’d had enough intrigue for one day. Instead of answering him, I ducked under his arm, climbed in my car, yanked the door out of his grasp and started up the Fiesta.
His polite knocking on my window was the last thing I expected. “Ivy,” he said.
“What?” I shouted over the engine.
He motioned for me to roll down my window. “Listen, we need to talk. I really have been trying to contact your family.”
I didn’t roll down my window to answer him. Instead I cranked up the car stereo to blasting as he tried to continue speaking.
“Did you hear me?” he frowned at me.
I smiled when the song changed over to Meghan Trainor’s, “NO.” “Sorry, can’t hear you.” I mouthed the words to him, pointing to my ear.
He stood there gesturing wildly and obviously trying to shout over my music. I put my car in gear and backed up. I flipped him the bird, and whipped out of the parking lot. I headed straight to the manor, singing along with the song, never looking back.
CHAPTER FIVE
Merlin was waiting for me in his sentry position on the kitchen island when I arrived, and greeted me with a loud meow. I hung my hat on a hook in the potting room, carried my dinner into the kitchen, and went straight to the cat for some kitty comfort. I knew better than to scoop him up for a cuddle, Merlin wasn’t big on being held. So I leaned over and laid my forehead against
He jumped back from me. “God damn it! You are a real practitioner!”
I blinked at his choice of words. “Yes, I am. And you sir, are a real asshole.” I unlocked my car, snatched the bags away from him, and tossed my things inside.
“Wait.” He grabbed the car door before I could get in. “Hang on. What’s your family line?” His voice was low and urgent.
“Dude, what is with you?” My head was still spinning, both in reaction from the self defense magick, and from his conflicting reactions.
“You caught me off guard. Your last name, what is it?” he asked.
I scoffed at that. Telling another magickal practitioner your full name was not something that was casually done, because names held power. “Do I look like a novice?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Yes actually, you do.” He scowled down at me, even more disapproving than before. “You use your powers out in the open, and you dress like a wanna-be.”
Returning the favor I looked him over, deliberately. “Such a harsh critique from an obvious fashion icon... I’m devastated.”
He almost smiled. “Who are you?”
“Give me your name first,” I countered.
“Nathan Pogue,” he said.
Nathan Pogue. N P... I realized with a jolt. Autumn had doodled those initials on the side of that note paper she’d given me the other day. I stared up into those steel-blue eyes, and despite myself felt a little tingle all the way down to my feet. I covered it with attitude. “And your family line?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.
“My lineage comes from my father’s Irish ancestry and from my mother’s family— Osborne.”
I recognized the old Colonial name. So... Mr. Congeniality’s mama was descended from the earliest of American Witches. Straightening up, I met his eyes. “My family line includes Jacobs and Bishop,” I said quietly and with pride. “My name is Ivy Bishop.”
I watched his eyes widen as my announcement sank in. He drew in a long breath. “You’re a Bishop ? By the old gods...”
His reaction made me feel offended all over again. “Jerk,” I said, shaking my head at his shocked expression.
“Is Bran Bishop your brother?” Nathan asked
“Yes,” I said, scowling up at him. Technically, Bran was my cousin, but my mother had adopted him when he was little, which also made him my brother. But this was hardly the time, the place, or even the person to whom I’d consider explaining the complicated twist of my family tree.
“I need to speak to your brother, right away,” he announced.
I’d had enough intrigue for one day. Instead of answering him, I ducked under his arm, climbed in my car, yanked the door out of his grasp and started up the Fiesta.
His polite knocking on my window was the last thing I expected. “Ivy,” he said.
“What?” I shouted over the engine.
He motioned for me to roll down my window. “Listen, we need to talk. I really have been trying to contact your family.”
I didn’t roll down my window to answer him. Instead I cranked up the car stereo to blasting as he tried to continue speaking.
“Did you hear me?” he frowned at me.
I smiled when the song changed over to Meghan Trainor’s, “NO.” “Sorry, can’t hear you.” I mouthed the words to him, pointing to my ear.
He stood there gesturing wildly and obviously trying to shout over my music. I put my car in gear and backed up. I flipped him the bird, and whipped out of the parking lot. I headed straight to the manor, singing along with the song, never looking back.
CHAPTER FIVE
Merlin was waiting for me in his sentry position on the kitchen island when I arrived, and greeted me with a loud meow. I hung my hat on a hook in the potting room, carried my dinner into the kitchen, and went straight to the cat for some kitty comfort. I knew better than to scoop him up for a cuddle, Merlin wasn’t big on being held. So I leaned over and laid my forehead against
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