Free Beneath An Ivy Moon (Legacy Of Magick Series, Book 4) by Ellen Dugan Page A

brother’s closet, I tugged down on a brass hook and the door swung open. I selected a volume on the original Witch families from the colonies and went back to my room to study up.
    I settled into the curved window seat and stretched out my legs. I flipped open the book and, while I ate the ice cream, started reading about the earliest of the Witch families in America. I had a hunch I’d be seeing the gorgeous, rude, and ill-tempered Nathan Pogue sooner than later.
    I wanted to be ready when I did.
     
    ***
     
    In hindsight I probably should have found a more discreet way to fill my cousin in on the events of the previous afternoon. I tracked her down at her part-time job at the local history museum and slipped in to her office as quietly as possible. I hadn’t seen Autumn get really angry in a long, long time. But even though she didn’t raise her voice, I had to admit... it was a hell of a show.
    “Someone tried to do what ?” she growled, while above her the fluorescent lights began to flicker.
    “I said, some ass-hat named Pogue, from an East Coast line of Witches, tried to charm his way past the wards at the manor yesterday.”
    Autumn jumped to her feet. Her desk chair went rolling back and bounced off the wall. “Why didn’t you tell me right away?” she demanded.
    I shifted my black, loosely crocheted poncho over the emerald green cami I wore and sighed. “I tried to catch you this morning before you left for work.”
    “Damn it Ivy!” You should have called me last night!” she said, and the little task light on her desk blew out with a pop.
    “Hey, hey, ratchet that down.” I reached out. “Relax before you blow out all your computer equipment.” I patted her arm. “I told you I was fine. He couldn’t get past the wards.”
    Autumn seemed to catch herself. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Start at the beginning. How did you meet him?” she asked.
    “I first bumped into him on campus a few weeks ago...” I filled Autumn in about how I’d met him right before the skull had been discovered. Then how he’d helped me with the drunk Frat boys. “He didn’t approve of me. Said I dressed like a wanna-be and had no subtlety.”
    “Guy sounds like a prince,” Autumn said, scowling. “He never explained exactly why he wanted to speak to Bran?”
    “No. Only that he’d been trying to reach him.” Above us the lights stopped their frantic flashing. “He also said that he knew you. That he’d met you.” I tipped my head to one side. “I’m guessing he met you at the museum?”
    “Describe him to me.”
    “He’s about six feet tall, with straight brown hair—” I gestured to my jawline. “Down to here. He’d be nice looking if he wasn’t such a pompous asshole.”
    “Pogue...” Autumn went back to her desk, and began riffling through a file.
    “Nathan Pogue,” I said.
    She held up a paper. “I did meet him. He’s one of the grad students working on the archeological excavation.”
    “Well that explained the work clothes he was wearing,” I said.
    Autumn shifted over to her computer and began typing. “Got him,” she said a few moments later. “He started with the Master’s program this year. Nathan Pogue, from Danvers, Massachusetts.”
    I walked around her desk to join her. “Danvers?” I wondered, reading his file for myself. “Isn’t that close to Salem, Massachusetts?”
    Autumn glanced back over her shoulder at me. “Very. It’s less than five miles from modern day Salem.”
    “Why do you say, modern day Salem ?” I asked.
    Autumn leaned back in her desk chair. “The Witch Hunt hysteria actually began in what was called ‘Salem Village’... which is known today as— Danvers, Massachusetts.”
    “So things are suddenly hinky, we have a new player in town, and he comes from the place where the Witchcraft trials originated from?” I shuddered. “That can’t be good.”
    “No, it’s not. I want to check something...” Autumn trailed off and