Light and Shadow (Reign of the Witch Queen #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Harper

I ’ve been driving around for two weeks with an expired driver’s license. I’d like to say it’s unlike me to let things go, but that would be a big fat lie. I’m the queen of procrastination.

It’s not entirely my fault. The thought of sitting in a New Jersey Driver’s Motor Vehicle office like one of a hundred head of cattle being shoved from one queue to another forced me into my illegal driving. Yup, I just blamed bureaucracy for my bad behavior, and I’d do it again.

After over an hour of being shuffled through lines, having my picture taken, and a thorough examination of every document since my birth that proves who I am, I’m waiting in a gallery of small chairs that must have been some kind of torture device in another life.

The guy behind me had tuna fish for lunch.

The woman next to me fixes her boobs every five seconds by reaching into her low-cut, yellow blouse and manually pulling them up and in. She smells of stale cigarette smoke and cheap perfume. Fixing her lipstick for the third time in the half hour I’ve been sitting here, she gives me a wink.

There’s a woman with three kids, all in varying states of come apart.

I don’t blame them. I want to melt down too. Honestly, I feel for the woman. Imagining having three kids under the age of ten is like imagining my life as anything but an utter mess.

A black screen with red digital numbers hangs on the wall above the six openings where the clerks’ desks are situated. The current number is 162, and the middle light in the one is out, making it look like a vertical dash. My ticket is 175. I tuck it into my pocket.

I’m going to die here. Right here in this giant, gray-walled room in a horrible chair with the smell of canned tuna fish as my last memory. This is hell.

“163,” the bald clerk with round, blue-tinted, wire-framed glasses drones as if we’re inconveniencing him.

The mother of three jumps up, dragging the smallest of the kids with her to the window. While the child whines, she hands the clerk her paperwork.

I’m a little jealous of that kid and the other two running around the tall table where people are filling out mounds of red-tape-related forms.

The room gets completely silent like places do before a rock star belts out the first note of his biggest hit.

The kids are frozen in place.

The boob lady has one hand in her blouse and her face is twisted in a bright-red-lipped scowl.

I stand and turn slowly and find every person in this hellhole statue-like. Even the tuna guy stopped stinking.

“What the fuck is happening?” I step around the boob lady and the teenage boy sitting next to her, tuck my paperwork into my oversize purse, and step into the aisle. “Hellooo… What the fuck is wrong with everyone?”

From my right comes a whooshing sound, and the papers from the forms table fly in every direction. A pinpoint of light appears in the middle of the cinder-block wall. It widens until swirls appear and the wind pulls at my hair.

My heart is pounding so hard I’m close to hyperventilating. “I’m dead. I died in the fucking DMV. That’s not fucking fair.”

A hazy figure appears in the swirling light, then grows bigger, taking on the outline of a man.

I swear to god, Thor jumps down from the opening to the painted-gray concrete floor of the most boring place on Earth. Thor! Blond hair like sunshine, bright blue eyes, a sharp angular jaw, and shoulders as wide as the Jefferson Memorial bridge. Pointed ears poke through his gorgeous long locks. A sheathed sword is attached to his belt. A sword! No beard, but otherwise…

He winces, then his gaze intensifies, and he pulls his lips into a tight line. He shakes his head as if to clear it. When he spots me, he narrows those piercing eyes. “Harper Craig, you must come with me,” he says with a heavy brogue.

Legs shaking and heart in my throat, I make a mad dash for the door. I don’t care if he is Thor, I’m not being killed by him or some swirling light thing. Though, I’m probably already dead.

I keep running. Outside, everyone is frozen. Maybe I’m going to hell. I mean, I’ve never given the prospect much thought, but I’ve been a nice person. I should at least get a chance for heaven or whatever.

I jump into my Toyota Corolla and drop my purse on the passenger seat. The car has seen better days, but it’s reliable, and I’m too lazy to shop for a new car. Nothing happens when I turn the key. I mean, not even a click.

Thor opens the passenger door. “It won’t work. We’re outside of time. I’ve got to take you through the gate before it closes, Harper.”

I wrap my hand around the tire iron I keep on the floor, pull it out, and jab at him. “You’re not taking me anywhere. How do you know my name?”

My ears burn with a loud shriek.

“Shite!” Grabbing my tire iron, he pushes my bag to the side and sits in the passenger seat. “You’ve done it now.”

I cover my head and brace for the blow.

“Do you think I’d strike you?” Indignation fills his voice, as if I’m out of line.

Peeking under my arm, I’m ready to open the door and run. “Don’t say that as if I’m the crazy one. You came through a solid wall, have pointed ears, look like Thor, and you’re trying to kidnap me.”

He blinks several times. Touching his ears, he smiles.

I’m not going to lie. That smile could melt the most bitter woman’s—or man’s—heart. I have to push that aside because I’m probably having some kind of psychotic episode, though the idea that I’m dead is still on the table.

With a shake of his head, his hair hides his ears. He mutters a few words I don’t understand, and he almost looks normal. “I suppose those will stand out here. Who is Thor?”

I don’t mention that he’s too beautiful to not stand out, even without pointed ears. “Thor is the god of thunder.”

Cocking his head, he taps his fingers on the dashboard. “I’ve not heard of that deity, nor am I a god, and my name is Aaran Riordan. Your vehicle will start now. We’ll need to go to the Labrador Coast.”

When exactly did the world go mad? Oh right, when Thor jumped out of a hole in the wall at the DMV. I grab the strap of my purse, give it a hard tug until it’s free, get out of the car, and head back inside.

Before I reach the double glass doors, he grabs my arm. “Where are you going?”

I give his hand a long look.

He must see the fire building inside me because he lets go.

“I’m going to get my driver’s license renewed, then I’m going home. I’m sure the fuck not going to Newfoundland with a crazy man who can’t possibly exist. I’m willing to accept that I’m having some kind of psychotic break, but I’m not going along with the fantasy.” I step inside and check the number, 173. Good, at least I didn’t miss my turn. I sit on the last chair in the back row.

Several people are picking papers up off the floor and everyone looks a little confused by the state of the room. The wall is solid again.

Doing my best to keep my breathing steady, I ignore Aaran when he sits next to me. His sword is gone, and that probably means I left my car unlocked and there’s a fucking sword in my Corolla.

At least three women, including boobs and lipstick, turn to give him a good look.

I don’t blame them. If he were real, he’d be gorgeous, but he can’t be real because people don’t show up in vortexes and demand I go with them. People don’t freeze as if time has stopped. I’m not insane. All is well.

Repeating these things over and over in my head helps, but the impossible man is still next to me.

When my number gets called by a lady with long spiral curls and thick glasses, I jump up and run to her little window. Digging in my pocket, I come up empty. “I lost my ticket, but I’ve been here for hours.”

“Yeah, whatever wind blew through, everyone lost their tickets, hon.” As if rogue winds blow through central New Jersey buildings all the time, she takes my paperwork and looks at each paper one by one, then types something into her computer.

Unable to resist, I look over my shoulder. Aaran’s chair is empty. He’s standing near the door, leaning against the wall. In brown pants and a white shirt, he could be anyone coming off a hard day’s work.

“Okay.”

The clerk startles me. I spin back to her.

She gives Aaran a look and smiles, then hands me back my paperwork. “It’s twenty-four dollars. Will that be cash or credit?”

“I have cash.” I pull the money out of my purse and hand it over. I can feel his eyes on the back of my head. Why doesn’t he go away?

“Okay, Miss Craig, here’s a dollar change and your new license. Thank you for your patience and sorry about the mess.” She smiles.

“Thank you. Have a nice day.” I walk away, barely hearing her say, “You too,” as I tuck everything in my purse and rush to the door.

“Did you get what you need?” Aaran follows me out.

At my car, I turn to him. “You are not real. I don’t know what you are, but you are not real, so go away.”

He steps back, and his bright blue eyes are wide. “I’m real enough.”

“Leave me alone. I’m a normal girl with a normal life. I don’t do drugs, and I generally only drink on weekends. I can’t recall being in a situation where someone could have slipped me something, but clearly, that’s what must have happened. I’m going home and lying down until this passes.” I get in my car and start the engine.

Before I can pull away, Aaran gets in the passenger side. “I’m not a phantom or dream, Harper. You’re not mad.” For the first time, he sounds sympathetic rather than commanding.

“Sane people don’t see holes open in the wall, then have hot men step out of them. Maybe it’s been so long since I’ve had sex that I conjured you for a quick thrill.” I shake my head and pull out of the parking lot. To get on Route 1, I drive down an access road behind the mall. Then I get on Quaker Bridge Road and take the ramp. Traffic is miserable in both directions, but I get off at the next exit, make the jug handle, and turn left to cross Route 1. Then I take back roads to my condo.

“Will you give me a chance to explain?” It would be easier to ignore him if his voice wasn’t like a meadow in springtime.

I’m turning into a poet, for the love of all. “What’s to explain? You stepped out of a wall, demanded I come to help you, and now you want me to go to Canada.”

I stop in my parking space, turn off the car, and get out.

Unsurprisingly, he follows with his sword in hand.

As I climb the stairs, I try to find the moment when my mind must have snapped. Did the DMV literally drive me over the edge? “I don’t suppose I can get you to just go away?”

“I’m sorry you’re upset. Maybe there were better ways to go about this, but the magic only works for so long. I came through and hoped you’d just go back with me. I suppose that was a naive notion. My mother told me this world has no knowledge of magic. I can’t leave you. We need your help.” He stands very close as I open the door.

Not bothering to lock him out, I drop my keys in the dish on the half table and toe off my shoes.

Stepping out of his boots, he watches me like people watch a cornered dog. “Your home is nice. This living off the ground and attached to others is odd, but I can see the ease of it. No fields to plow or gardens to tend.” He looks out the window at the lake.

It’s a nice area just outside Princeton. My neighbors are all lawyers and professionals. “My father died and left me a lot of money. Now my mother is quite ill. I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes are warm with emotion when he turns. “I’m sorry, Harper.”

“I have a decent job doing logistics, and it’s close to home.” I have no idea why I’m telling him any of this. Maybe if I talk, he’ll either make sense or disappear.

I flop onto my soft gray sectional. “I took the afternoon off to get my license renewed. It expired two weeks ago. I could have sent all the information in and done it by mail, but I’m a procrastinator and let it lapse.”

“What’s the penalty if you’re caught driving without this license ?” He rolls the word as if it’s a foreign language, and sits on the ottoman at the far end of the couch.

I shrug. “I’d probably get a ticket and have to pay a fine. Maybe, if I made eyes at a cute officer, I’d get off with a warning and a command to take care of it immediately.”

The way he smiles is too sexy. “I’m sure you’re lovely enough to avoid a fine.”

“Why me, what’s in Canada, how did you make that vortex, and what help do you need? Start with, why me?” If he’s not going to leave, I may as well play along with my delusion.

His eyes shine as if lit from the inside. “It’s a very long story, and you might not understand.” He shakes his head, and the tips of his ears peek out.

“If I’m not crazy, then you’re not human?” I get up and cross the large living space to an open kitchen. I grab half a bottle of wine from the fridge and pull the cork. “Do they drink wine where you’re from?”

“Indeed, on occasion.” There’s that smile again.

Damn him.

Taking two stemless glasses from the cabinet, I keep waiting for him to dissolve into thin air, but he’s still on my couch, and his sword is leaning against my front door frame when I return with the wine-filled glasses. “Either tell your long story or get out.”

The silence is thick with whatever decision he’s making. With a nod, he takes the glass. “Try to keep your mind open, Harper. This is going to sound stranger than what you already saw.”

Easing down, I sit carefully so that I don’t spill my wine. I drink half of it. “Give me the abridged version. I don’t have any more wine in the house.”

He sips and smiles at the white wine. He takes a long swallow and puts his glass on the coffee table. “I’m not human. You have that right. I’m elven. My world has been tied to yours since the beginning of time. Long ago, our peoples mingled, but that was a time nearly forgotten.”

Should I throw him out or keep listening? I keep a baseball bat in the coat closet near the door. I could force him to leave.

“While it’s never been one of my gifts, some elves can read the thoughts of others. Oddly, I know you’re considering bashing me over the head with a bat, whatever that is. It doesn’t sound as if I would like it.” He looks amused rather than angry.

“It’s only sensible.” I drink the rest of my wine and cradle my empty glass.

Even his laugh is perfect. It’s like music. “I don’t know why the worlds were separated, but long ago, when humans and elves mingled, children were born. The elven magic has been passed down through the centuries, and three women living in this time have that magic. My world is in trouble, and my two brothers and I were sent here to find those three women and ask them to help save us.”

What am I supposed to say to that? I stare at his handsome not-quite-human face and wonder if perhaps I’m sane and it’s he who’s mad.

“You asked why you? That’s the answer, Harper. You are one of three women who can save us.” His hands are fisted on his knees, then he relaxes them and rubs them over his thighs. It’s the first sign that he’s nervous.

“What are we saving you from?” May as well get the full story so I know what to tell my therapist.

He gets up and paces from one end of my living room to the other. In my modern condo, he looks out of place. I can picture him in a cottage with handmade cabinets. My white shaker-style cabinets and black counters don’t suit him at all. His home would have a butcher block and a rocking chair.

“I live in a house that has stone counters. It’s my mother and father’s house. There are a few rocking chairs.”

“That’s very inconvenient and intrusive.” I use my best scolding voice.

Oddly, he bows. “I’m just making sure you’re not going to scratch my eyes out. I don’t mean to invade your privacy. Also, I’ve never been able to read anyone’s thoughts before. It’s new.”

“If I promise not to beat you with a bat or claw you, will you stay out of my head?”

Another bow. “Of course.”

“You have a deal then.” I get up and offer him my hand.

As he wraps his fingers around mine, I feel the weight of his responsibilities and his fear of failure. I jerk my hand away. It’s not the first time I’ve touched someone and known more about them than I wanted to, but it hasn’t happened in a long time. I sit. “Tell your story, but if it gets too long and too crazy, we’re going down to the bar.”

“You have a pub in the building?”

“Not in the building, but around the corner.” My condo is part of a planned neighborhood, complete with restaurants, shops, and an Irish pub. It’s trendy and convenient.

Sitting next to me, he says, “We may need that pub, but let me get the brunt of it out.”

Having felt his sincere worry and doubt, I no longer wonder if he’s a figment or a lunatic. Whatever he is, he’s sincere.

“Before I start, can I ask you something?”

I nod.

“When you touched me, I felt a flash of knowing. You felt it too, I think. Have you felt it before?” The late-day sun shines through the sliding patio door and frames him in a glow of gold and orange. Maybe it’s a sign.

“Not for a long time, but when I was young, I could sense things about people. My grandma said it was the sight. She had it too. My mom said to keep it to myself or people would lock me away in an asylum. Her description of such places silenced me well enough, and most of the time, I avoid skin-to-skin contact. I guess over time, whatever it was, stopped.”

He shakes his head and covers my hand with his. His fingers are rough with calluses. “You have a lot of gifts you’ve yet to discover, Harper.”

I’m flooded with kindness and sympathy and pull my hand away. “I’m just an ordinary woman with good instincts about people. Don’t dramatize it.”

While blocking the setting sun, Aaran looks me in the eyes. “The witch queen rules my world and brings darkness to everything she touches.”