Read Online Daughter of the Spellcaster by MAGGIE SHAYNE - Free Book Online Page B

him for a few minutes. She had been okay without him for her entire life, minus eight blissful weeks, she thought, but she didn’t say it out loud.
    “I’ll venture into the reception,” she said with a nod toward the door. “Come on, Bahru. It would be rude of us not to at least put in an appearance.”
    Nodding, Bahru got to his feet. Lena turned back to Ryan. “I’ll wait for you, okay?”
    “Yeah. I’ll find you when I’m done here.”
    She didn’t know whether to look forward to that—or dread it.
    * * *
    Ryan rose when they left, then stood there staring blankly at the door for a long moment. It was like a twister had just swept through his life. He’d buried his father and found out he was going to be one himself, inherited billions he’d never wanted, and learned that the man he disliked more than anyone he knew was being installed as a fixture in his child’s life, when he himself had not yet been granted access. All in one day.
    “Are you all right, Ryan?”
    “Yeah. I—” He shook his head hard, as though he was shaking away the fog. “Yeah. Good. Let’s get on with this. I’ve got...a lot to deal with.”
    “That’s got to be the understatement of the year.” The lawyer bent to pick up an oversized briefcase, then laid it on the giant antique desk and snapped open the clasps. He opened it and picked up a wooden box that looked centuries old, at least. Its lid was completely engraved, so that there wasn’t a smooth spot anywhere. Vines with leaves and buds, stars and spirals in between.
    As the attorney held it out to him, Ryan took it and looked more closely, realizing that the more you looked at the thing, the more you saw. Swirls in the vine’s bark-like texture revealed an eye here, a hand there, a crescent moon in another spot. He wanted to roll his eyes. “I don’t know how many times I told the old man I just wasn’t into all his spiritual hocus pocus bull. I guess he just had to try one last time to capture my interest.”
    And he had. The box was spectacular—there was no denying it as a work of art. And that spoke to Ryan’s soul, though he would never admit it. But there was more. Something that seemed to grab his attention and pull him in.
    He lifted the lid to see what was inside.
    There was no earthly reason for him to feel as if he’d been hit between the eyes with an invisible blast, and yet that was what he felt at his first glimpse of the blade. It was a simple piece. A double-edged dagger with a gleaming gold hilt. It looked real. Weighed enough, too.
    “That’s it?”
    “That’s it. He said I was to give it to you in private, and to tell you to keep it to yourself.”
    “And why’s that?”
    Samuels shrugged, snapping the briefcase closed. “I don’t know any more than that, Ryan.” Then he rose and extended his hand.
    Ryan closed the lid of the wooden box and accepted the gesture. “Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome. I’m sure we’ll be in touch. Let me know if there’s anything you need. And again, Ryan, I’m very sorry for your loss.”
    “Thanks.”
    The lawyer nodded and left. Ryan watched him go. Then he opened the box again, wondering what the hell this was all about.
    He went to pick the knife up, but his hand stalled just before making contact, as if he was afraid to touch it. Which was completely illogical. And then his palm started tingling like nothing he’d ever felt before. For just the barest instant the golden blade seemed to glow.
    There was a knock at the door, and he slammed the lid as fast as if he’d spotted a cobra inside. Damn, he was jumpy. Emotional overload. A trick of the light. Some weird combination of the two.
    “Ryan?”
    It was Lena’s voice. He shoved the box onto a nearby shelf and went to open the door. She searched his face, hers full of concern. “You okay?”
    “Yeah. Fine. It’s just been...it’s been a crazy day, that’s all.”
    “I know it has. For me, too. And the energy out there is just...”