Return of the Light

Maggie Shayne

Литагент HarperCollins EUR

Dori Stewart's six-figure Manhattan job has vanished, and her lover and friends have vanished with it. She's scraping by as a waitress and awaiting the day she can return to New York in triumph. Maybe a ritual on the winter solstice can renew her wavering faith. What she needs is just the right candle…and Jason Farrar, an old boyfriend, by her side.

Return of the Light

Maggie Shayne

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Prologue

The candles were the only light in the room. They glowed from every quarter, painting the faces of the men and women in a golden light. Incense smoke hung in the air; sandalwood and myrrh, mingling with the seasonal aromas of pine boughs, holly and ivy.

In the center, she stood with her arms upward and outward, head tipped back as the High Priest knelt before her, completing the fivefold kiss by pressing his lips briefly to her feet.

She opened her eyes and spoke to the gathered assembly, spoke the words of the Goddess according to Leland, who said they were given to him by an Italian Witch named Maddalena more than a hundred years ago; and to Gardner, who adapted them from Leland, adding his own touches; and to Valiente, who made them beautiful and must have been truly inspired; and according to Dori, Lady Starfire, who had made them her own.

“Hear my words and know me! I shall be called by myriad names. I am the Maiden of the Moon, I am Mother Earth. And I am the Crone, who holds the keys of life and rest. I am an unknowable mystery and yet known to every soul!”

She lowered her arms to her sides, moving her most penetrating gaze from one face to the next, meeting their eyes so they would feel touched by the Goddess.

“Hear my words and know me! Whenever the full moon rises, come to me. Gather in some secret place, such as this…”

Not much of a secret place, though. Not really. Her penthouse apartment in Manhattan. Still, it served the purpose.

“And adore the spirit of your Goddess, who is Queen of all Witches.”

Speaking the words of the Goddess felt a little phony tonight. Something was wrong; something was off. Dori wasn’t sure what. And yet she felt that spirit wasn’t speaking through her, hadn’t in quite some time now. The Charge had become rote, recited from memory. And while those standing in a circle around her seemed awestruck and mesmerized when she met their eyes with her own, she didn’t feel the magic.

“I shall teach you the mysteries of Nature, and the ways of Magick!”

Not much nature, here. Not in the apartment, aside from her plants and her cat.

“All that is hidden shall be revealed. Even the secluded soul shall be pierced by my light.”

She didn’t really teach anymore. The priestesses she had trained did that, ran their own covens, taught bright-eyed beginners, organized social functions and rituals and performed weddings and funerals. But in this particular branch of the Pagan community, she was queen. The ranking elder, the most honored Witch in town, and a coveted special guest at many a Pagan function. She was even respected and a bit famous in non-Pagan circles, having successfully worked with the police on several missing persons cases. The press loved that kind of crap. It was a damn good thing she saw no reason to be secretive about her beliefs. They wouldn’t have stayed secret long.

“I do not demand sacrifice, for I am the mother of all living!”

She moved around the circle now, speaking to each individual.

“Create and heal!” she told one. “Be strong yet gentle,” she said, touching the cheek of another. “Be noble yet reverent,” she instructed a third. “Bring forth and replenish.”

She returned to the center. “And just as the moon moves through her cycles, waxing and waning and beginning again, and just as