Page 27 of Veiled By Smoke (The Nature Hunters Academy #5)

Fern looked hesitant, glancing at the window as thunder rumbled in the distance, but Aurora nodded. “Yes, please.” She was both nervous as a grasshopper when the lawn mowers started up, but also exhilarated at the idea of maybe figuring out why she had these feelings of emptiness and loss.

Cordelia took her hands. The world narrowed.

Firelight flickered, and the air thickened.

A tingle ran up Aurora’s arms like electricity.

Cordelia’s brow furrowed, eyes squeezed shut, lips moving in silent words.

Aurora’s breath caught. For a moment, the world was nothing but the press of Cordelia’s palms, the wild beat of her own heart, and the faintest scent of something burning.

It seemed to go on forever, but at the same time it felt like only seconds.

Cordelia’s eyes snapped open. She looked startled, then quickly gentle.

“There’s a bond missing in you, Aurora. Something close, waiting.

When you find it, you’ll feel whole in a way you can’t imagine yet.

I wish I could tell you more, but unfortunately that’s not the way it works. I can only say what I’ve felt.”

Aurora nodded, her heart thudding as Fern squeezed her shoulder.

“Why don’t we take that tour of the mansion, and if you want to purchase any souvenirs, you can do so at the end,” Cordelia suggested.

“Sounds good.” Aurora got up to follow her.

The old house was a maze of stairs, rooms, secret alcoves, and the smell of ancient books.

There was a draft that ran through it, causing her to shiver occasionally, but not enough to take away from her interest in all the things she was seeing.

By the time they reached the end of the tour, Aurora felt tired. She must have looked it, too.

“Let me give you some tea that can help with lethargy,” Cordelia offered.

“I’d actually prefer one for sleep if you have it. My dreams have been wild lately, and I just don’t feel rested.” Aurora felt Fern’s eyes on her and knew she was going to get asked by her foster mom why she hadn’t said anything.

“No problem,” Cordelia nodded. “I can hook you up.”

“How much?” Fern asked.

“On the house,” the woman smiled. “My treat to you both, because you’ve been a blessing to me. Some people are just like that. Being in their presence brings light, and it’s been so gloomy. Thank you Aurora. I know you don’t realize it, but you’re a very special young lady.”

Aurora felt her face flush and muttered a “thank you.” She didn’t really know what else to say.

Taking compliments wasn’t her forte, and she definitely didn’t feel like she was anything special.

She was just a normal girl with a sad beginning in life.

But Aurora was determined to not let that tragedy define her future.

As they left, the storm erupted, rain sluicing down in silver sheets, thunder rolling so close it made the windows vibrate.

As Aurora glanced back, lightning split the sky over Salem, illuminating the Blackhorn Mansion in stark relief.

Cordelia watched from the doorway, her face thoughtful and grave.

Aurora shivered, but not from the cold. Something was searching for her, she could feel it.

It was an odd thing to think, but that was the only way to describe the pit in her stomach.

She didn’t know whether to be eager or afraid.

Cordelia seemed to think it was something good, something that would make Aurora feel whole.

She hoped that was true because living with a hole inside of her was exhausting and lonely.

C ordelia watched the battered sedan disappear into the rain, its taillights smudged red against Salem’s gloom.

Even after the sound of tires faded, she lingered in the open doorway, arms crossed tightly over her chest, breath fogging in the damp air.

Thunder grumbled above, the kind that jolted in her bones and made every shadow in the Blackhorn Mansion twitch.

She closed the door and leaned against it, pressing her forehead to the old wood.

The house felt different now, and not just because of the post-battle silences that still haunted its halls.

Since the Dragon Heart forest disaster, everything had changed, half their coven gone, magic thin as soup, and the remaining Blackhorn witches forced to open their doors to curious tourists and believers, selling history and a bit of glamour to keep the lights on.

This was a difference that caused the house to wake up and take notice.

Aurora . . . Aurora was something unique.

Cordelia could still feel the ghost of her energy tingling in her palms, the echo of a bond that was there and not-there, humming between worlds.

Not a Mark, at least not yet. She knew what that felt like, and this was different.

Stranger. Older. But not directly applied either.

It was an energy that leaked into her. It made her skin prickle with curiosity and the tiniest bit of fear.

She made her way to the library, weaving between stacks of unsorted books and vases of half-dried herbs.

The fire in the grate had died down to embers, but she didn’t bother coaxing it back to life.

Instead, she grabbed her phone from the velvet armchair and scrolled through her contacts until she found Penny.

The line rang once, twice, three times, and then the voicemail picked up.

“Hey, Penny, it’s Cordi. Give me a call when you can.

It’s not urgent, so don’t stress. Be safe.

” She ended the call and sat there, rubbing the phone up and down her leg, disliking the uneasy feeling she was getting.

But until she talked to Penny, she didn’t really know what to do about it.

“Think, think, think,” she quoted her favorite animated character from when she was a child.

But there was no time to think as a knock came at the door.

Her next tour was here. The mystery of Aurora would have to wait.