Read Eden's Charms for Free Online Page B

love you, M’little lady.” He kissed the baby again. “My dear friend, you doubt me? I evanesced, walked into a lab full of white coats, computers and worked my magic better than my wife could have. Don’t tell her I said that though!”
    Duncan laughed. “That’s not hard to do. Serina messes up every spell she does!”
    Lucian’s eyes grew. “Shhhh! Don’t let her hear that. There is no record of Elyza’s genetic gifts. It’s all good.”
    “Splendid.” Duncan turned to Serina and gave her a light kiss on her forehead, to which she never stirred. “See you in the morning. Get some rest Luce, because once the bills catch up to the insurance you’re gonna get bounced out of here and life as you know it, is over.”
    ****
    Upon arrival in Saratoga at his North Broadway residence, Ethan specked out the place, and made certain everything had been taken care of for his two companions before going to the carriage house. The Maestro told him there was a gift waiting. Inside, resting on an old-fashioned turnstile, once used for washing horses and carriages in the late nineteenth century, sat a sporty little convertible, two-door, black on black leather, six speed with a thank you note and a big blue bow. The card read, “No more running around town unless you take this. Xier.” The car had two miles on it and a full tank of gas. As Ethan slid his hands over the paint job, his groin grew rock hard. Couldn’t help it—guy-car thing. He loved his new car almost as much as his plane. He plunged his nose deep into the leather seats and inhaled that new car smell. For the briefest moment a giant moue worked its way onto his face. What if—once he found the Maestro’s grandson, it had a leaky diaper or spit up on—or god forbid, inside his new car? His heart raced. What had he gotten himself into and why couldn’t he just say no? No to the Maestro? Then he remembered who he was dealing with. A crazy man. No, a crazy vamp. One that had him strung up better than a puppeteer with his marionette playing a game of Twister. After he slipped behind the wheel of his car, he stroked the steering wheel. She needed to be treated with kid gloves, worked up to a slow pace then taken for the ride of her life. He pulled out of the driveway and trolled North Broadway, swerving to avoid potholes.
    Saratoga had grown since he’d last been here. New buildings, homes and businesses seemed to have sprouted overnight better than Chia pets could grow green fuzz, but the town retained an attractive quaintness. The over-flowing flower baskets that hung from the old-fashioned streetlights and beds of colorful flowers that spilled out onto the sidewalks reminded him of home and his mother. A pang of longing struck a distant chord. Home was no longer where the heart was or a place for him to hang his baseball hat.
    All along Broadway, musicians played their hearts out to couples hand in hand that strolled by. He actually thought he might like to settle here, but that would require a woman and he wasn’t ready to commit to one woman yet, if ever… Unless Pippy became part of the package. Random, no ridiculous.
    Shaking her long, leggy image from his thoughts, Ethan focused on finding a spot in the parking lot in between Lillian’s and Professor Moriarity’s. He scoped out the area. His new car had to be safe. He parked her in between a Mercedes and a Jaguar. Three times he went back to the lot to check on her before he actually made it inside and to the restaurant. The term OCD crossed his mind on more than one occasion, but he scoffed the phrase, telling himself. “I’m not obsessive or compulsive. Diseased definitely,” he chided as he hopped over the cracks in the sidewalk and scooped up a head’s-up penny.
    The aromas from Lillian’s Restaurant found Ethan’s nose an easy target. He hungered for food and companionship, and at the same time, jet lag followed him better than his shadow. The stress from this job seemed to hover over