Tena StetlerAuthor of Paranormal Romance/Suspense & Cozy Mysteries With Magic Spark!

—Inscribed into a white candle

Chloe padded barefoot across her apartment to the
altar on her windowsill. She struck a match and lit a candle. Its light
shimmered over a row of crystals and washed into the darkness beyond the open
window.

“Spirits of air,” she intoned, holding out her
hands. “Guardians of thought and intent, grant me your presence today. Spirits
of fire, guardians of will and passion…”

A gust of wind sent autumn leaves whirling through
the darkness and rustling against the window’s screen. She stopped chanting and
cupped her hands around the candle, shielding it from the breeze. She shivered.
There was a sense of foreboding in the air, a whisper and a chill that a witch
like her could not ignore. Someone else with powers was close by. And they were
thinking about her—at least that’s what her intuition murmured.

She glanced out the window. There was no one in the
tiny parking lot, one story below. The windows in the house next door stood
dark and silent. She caught a whiff of bacon and hash browns, but the smell was
faint and not unexpected. It was almost five-thirty, breakfast time for the
couple upstairs.

Quiet as could be, she tiptoed past her bed and a
stack of textbooks to the studio apartment’s front door. She opened it a crack
and glanced out. The hall light was on, its brightness fanning across the
hallway between her and the main staircase. But the doors to the other two
apartments on her floor were shut, everything dead silent.

Remembering her candle, Chloe swiveled back. “Out,”
she whispered, flicking her fingers to send a burst of energy at its flame.

The flame obeyed, only a thread of its
rosemary-scented smoke trailing behind her as she opened the door all the way
and crept down the hallway, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling.

When she reached the top of the staircase,
everything was still quiet. But after a moment, a faint thump-thump echoed
up from the foyer below.

 Thump-bang.
Bang. Chloe froze, her breath knotting in the back of her throat. It was as
if someone had leaned into the front door, hard shouldering it to see if it
would give way.

She waited, listening for the noise to happen again. One long second passed,
then another. She gritted her teeth and took a cautious step downward.

Her ear caught the swish and clink of something
being slid through the mail slot, followed by a hum of magic.

Not daring to breathe, Chloe snuck down the stairs
far enough that she could see the foyer and the front entrance. A narrow
envelope lay just inside the door, as white as moonlight against the worn
floorboards.

She glanced at the window set into the front door.
No one was looking in or lurking in the shadows on the porch, so she sprinted
down the rest of the stairs and snatched the envelope. Even before she read who
it was for, her intuition screamed that it was addressed to her:

The ink was black. The handwriting neat and
controlled. Perfectly centered. But it wasn’t an envelope. It was handmade,
paper folded and held shut by a disk of gold sealing wax stamped with an N surrounded
by a circle.

She nudged the seal with her index finger. Energy
crackled off of it, snaking up her arm. She gasped. Powerful magic. She was
certain of it, though if any of the other tenants had found the letter and
touched the seal, they wouldn’t have felt a thing.

Adrenaline pumped into her veins. A month ago,
she’d moved out of her parents’ house in Connecticut to take prerequisite
courses at the University of Vermont before applying for medical school. In all
those weeks, she hadn’t encountered any other true witches or magic. No way in
hell was she going to let someone drop off a thing like this and then escape
before she could meet them.

She shoved the letter into the waistband of her
yoga pants, unlocked the front door, and charged out onto the porch. Her gaze
flashed to the left. Parked cars lined the dark street. But no one was getting
into or out of any of them.

The swish of someone striding through fallen leaves
came from the opposite direction. She wheeled and caught a glimpse of him.
Definitely a guy, striding down the sidewalk through a glimmer of streetlight.
Broad shoulders filled out his dark quilted jacket. Khaki chinos. Lean.
Athletic. Confident.

Chloe’s long legs took the porch stairs in a single
leap. She sprinted down the sidewalk after him, leaves scattering beneath her
bare feet.

The guy jogged between two parked cars and crossed
the street.

“Wait!” she shouted.

He slowed and glanced back. That was all the time
Chloe needed. She willed her legs to go faster and in a dozen strides caught up
to him and snagged his sleeve.

His eyes met hers. He looked to be maybe
twenty-four or -five. His dark- brown hair curled at the nape of his neck. Deep,
brown eyes. Muscular. Classy. Gorgeous. His magic purred in the air around him.

She gulped a breath and toughened her voice. “You
owe me an explanation.”

His gaze traveled over her slowly, from her bobbed
honey-blond hair, past her makeup-free face and stretched out T-shirt, down to
her stormy- blue painted toenails, then back up to her eyes. Dimples formed as
his lips twitched into a roguish smirk.

“Not afraid of confrontation, are you?” he said.

His voice was warm and deep, liquid danger spiked
with an undercurrent of confident innuendo. It sent an excited shiver up her
arms. Still she glared at him. “First of all, I suspect you dropped off that letter
at this time of morning because you knew I’d be awake and sense you. That means
you’ve been spying on me.”

“Is that so?” He shifted closer, his magic sweeping
her skin.

Her legs weakened. Desire thrummed low in her
belly. Dear Goddess, this hadn’t been one of her brighter moves. Maybe she
could snuff out a candle with a flick of her fingers, but with seemingly no
effort his magic had aroused every inch of her. Clearly, he was extraordinarily
gifted—and not just with working spells.

She let go of his sleeve, retreated a step, and
found herself trapped against a cedar hedge.

He cocked his head. “Why don’t you open the letter
if you’re so curious?”

Her fingers obeyed, sliding it from her waistband—

She stopped. What the heck was she doing? She’d
felt the magic crackle off the seal. If she broke it, there was no telling what
kind of spell might be activated.

Chloe pulled herself up to her full height and
looked him square in the eyes, which wasn’t that hard to do. He was probably
five-foot-ten, but she was only a couple of inches shorter even in bare feet.
“I’ve got a better idea. How about if you tell me what it says?”

He frowned as if the idea didn’t appeal to him,
then surprisingly he stepped back and shrugged. “All right, if you insist. It’s
an invitation from the Northern Circle coven. Have you heard of us?”

“Umm—no.” Her pulse quickened, renewed wariness
pumping into her blood. Her parents had mentioned a few older hereditary
witches who lived in this area, but never this group.

“It’s to a party. A meet and greet. A chance to see
if you might be interested in joining us and if we think you’re a good fit.” He
rubbed a hand down the sleeve of his jacket as if deciding whether he should
say more. Finally, he went on, “We’re dedicated to finding ways to access
ancient knowledge. Through out-of-body travel, retrocognition…” He studied
her face carefully, as if watching for her reaction.

She pressed her lips together, refusing to give him
one—though what he’d said totally enticed her.

Amusement twinkled in his eyes for a second, then
he continued. “We believe there are cures to modern diseases and conditions
that have been lost to time. The wisdom and magic of Imhotep, Hippocrates, even
Merlin.” He smiled, slyly. “You are interested in medicine, right?”

Her wariness evaporated and that thrum jumped to
life again deep inside her. But this time it had nothing to do with sex. Magic.
Medicine. Secrets lost to time. None of the classes she was taking or
anything she’d come across at the university were even remotely as exciting as
this.

She folded her arms across her chest. “Of course
you’d know I’m interested in that. You’ve been keeping tabs on me.”

“I—we haven’t been spying on you. You don’t always
use protection spells. We picked up on your energy. That’s one of the ways we
find new potential members.” He stopped, his jaw tensing as if he were holding
something back.

She pinned him with a steady look. “And?”

He grimaced. “All right, we have contacts in
administration. We may have checked your college records as well: graduated
from a community college, taking additional prerequisites before applying for
medical school. Top-ten test scores. Not a great apartment. But somehow you
scored it last minute.”

Now he sounded like her father, using his connections
to screen potential employees. She thrust the letter out. “If this is all so
innocent, then why don’t you open it? Or does the seal bother you?”

He laughed, tugged the letter from her fingers, and
broke the sealing wax. The welcoming scent of sage and lavender perfumed the
air, and a trail of green firefly-like sparks twinkled upward, swirling around
before vanishing off toward the brightening eastern horizon.

“Better now?” he said, handing the open letter back
to her.

She skimmed it, nibbling her bottom lip. Even in
the dim street-light, she could see he’d told the truth. It was an engraved
invitation signed: Athena Marsh, high priestess, Northern Circle.

“You can take a city bus—or text Athena if you want
a ride. She’ll probably ask me to pick you up, but she’s the one doing the
organizing. This is her pet project,” he continued. “You won’t be the only
newbie. No one will force you into anything.”

His voice settled sugar-sweet in her ear. Medicine.
Magic. A chance to gain the knowledge from ancient physicians, scholars,
and sorcerers. Perhaps even pick the wizard Merlin’s brain. How could she say no?