Read Arcane Magic (Stella Mayweather Series) for Free Online Page A

street; and very shortly, Annalise and Beau would return to their new home with their new baby girl, the latest member of the pack. Life was good and I must admit I was pleased for them.
    I could hardly wait to visit them, and personally deliver the pretty baby set I ordered online: but until that time, I had to concentrate on the task at hand: the haphazard pile of paper on my desk. Fortunately, this was a straightforward, though not particularly interesting set. Most of the sheets were handwritten with very pretty pen-and-ink drawings of various flowers and herbs with notes on spells; and it struck me as quite similar to a book Seren and David once gave me as a gift. If I weren't mistaken, this was the author's original notations. How they came to be in the archives, I wasn't sure, but I made a note to tell David of my find. I was fairly sure this would be of interest to many other spellcraft witches too. As it turned out, however, it wasn't my most interesting discovery of the day.
     
    ~
     
    Originally, Gage promised to restock my refrigerator and have it ready for my arrival; but since I returned two weeks early, he hadn't gotten around to doing it, leaving me with an empty pantry. Before it got too late, I drove to the grocery store, filling my basket with all the essentials and driving home. I was turning onto my driveway just as dusk began to fall.
    Bumping the car door shut with my hip, I made a weird sort of lunging move to shift my bag further up my arm so it nestled into the crook of my elbow, while simultaneously trying to balance two sacks of groceries. Really, what I should have done was make two trips to the car, but the sunlight was quickly diminishing. All I wanted to do was get inside, brew a cup of hot, sweet tea, and ruminate on the day, now that I'd had a chance to clear my mind.
    So, I played the balancing game as I walked quickly along the path, my thumb grappling with the remote car key. Not that locking my car mattered out here. With only two houses on a road, which led to nowhere important, barely anyone ventured this far out unless invited. I could leave the keys in the ignition, and it almost certainly wouldn't matter. However, growing up in London instilled some security measures that I undertook automatically. Not that I could afford a car back then, but still, old habits were hard to break. The most important security measures were the wards that guarded my house from any possible harmful intent directed towards me, not to mention truly unwelcome visitors. I could feel the wards vibrating in the air as the warning system embraced the porch.
    When my foot landed on the first step, I stopped dead. A large person was sprawled on the porch, his fingers just reaching the doorframe. Judging by his size – thickly set with broad shoulders, and tall – as well as his clothing, he was obviously a man. Dressed in jeans that had surely seen better days, a thick, corduroy coat, and mud-encrusted boots, he lay on his belly, his face concealed by shoulder-length hair. He was very still. My immediate alarm was replaced by a whiff of otherness , something that wasn't immediately obvious. Werewolf.
    "What the hell?" I muttered. Setting my groceries on the step, I dipped my hand into my bag and pulled out my phone, hitting “speed dial” as I brought it to my ear.
    "Hey." Gage's reply was warm and smooth.
    "Hey, yourself. What have I said about your wolves taking naps on my porch?" I asked, staring at the prone man. Edging backwards, and away from him, I glanced across the street. Gage's truck was parked in the driveway and there was a light on in his living room, indicating he was home.
    "I don't recall that," replied Gage. "I do remember an angry note, however, about peeing on your porch."
    I remembered that too. Boy, was I cross! Especially, since it wasn't like they weren't as house-trained as their human selves. Every werewolf claimed he could keep a strong grip on that courtesy, even when down on all