Drake Sisters 01 - Magic in the Wind

was with the dogs, he was more centered on the voice. He strained to listen.
    "Please, Sarah, you have to be able to do something. I know you can. Please say you'll help me. I can't bear this," the crying voice said.
    Her sorrow was so deep Damon ached for her. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt someone's pain. He couldn't remember how to feel anything but bored or frustrated. The dogs both sniffed the air and, as if recognizing him, wagged their tails in greeting and sat down, hair settling to make them appear much more friendly. Keeping one eye on the dogs, he strained to catch the words spoken in that soft lilting tone.
    "I know it's difficult, Irene, but this isn't something like putting a Band-Aid on a scraped knee. What do the doctors say?"
    There was more sobbing. It shook him, hurt him, tore up his insides so that his gut churned and a terrible weight pressed on his chest. Damon forgot all about the dogs and pressed his hand over his heart. Irene Madison. Now he recognized the voice, knew from Inez at the grocery store that her fifteen-year-old son, Drew, was terminally ill.
    "There's no hope, Sarah. They said to take him home and make him comfortable. You know you can find a way.
    Please do this for us, for me."
    Damon edged closer to the house, wondering what the hell she thought Sarah could do. Work a miracle? There was a small silence. The window was open, the wind setting the white lacy curtains dancing. He waited, holding his breath.
    Waited for Sarah's answer Waited for the sound of her voice.
    "Irene, you know I don't do that sort of thing. I've only just come back. I haven't even unpacked. You're asking me..."
    "Sarah, I'm begging you. I'll do anything, give you anything. I'm begging on my knees..." The sobs were choking Damon. The pain was so raw in the woman.
    "Irene, get up! What are you doing? Stop it."
    "You have to say you'll come to see him. Please, Sarah.
    Our mothers were best friends. If not for me, do it for my mother."
    "I'll come by, Irene. I'm not promising anything, but I'll stop by." There was resignation in that gentle voice. Weariness. "My sisters will be coming in a day or so and as soon as we're all rested we'll stop by and see what we can do."
    "I know you think I'm asking for a miracle, but I'm not, I just want more time with him. Come when you're rested, when the others have come and can help." The relief Irene felt spilled over to Damon and he had no clue why. Only that the weight pressing on his chest lifted and his heart soared for a moment.
    "I'll see what I can do."
    The voices were traveling toward him. Damon waited, his heart pounding in anticipation. He had no idea what to expect or even what he wanted, but everything in him stilled.
    The door opened and two women emerged to stand in the shadow of the wide, columned porch. "Thank you, Sarah.
    Thank you so much," Irene said, clutching at Sarah's hands gratefully. "I knew you would come." She hurried down the stairs, straight past the dogs, who had rushed to their mistress.
    Irene managed a quick smile for Damon as she passed him, her tearstained face bright with hope.
    Damon leaned on his cane and stared up at Sarah.

Chapter 2

    SARAH STOOD ON the porch, her body in the shadows.
    Damon had no idea of her age. Her face seemed timeless. Her eyes were old eyes, filled with intelligence and power. Her skin was smooth and flawless, giving her the appearance of extreme youth, very much at odds with the knowledge in her direct gaze. She simply stood there quietly, her incredible eyes fixed on him.
    "How did you get through the gate?"
    It wasn't what he expected. Damon half turned to look back at the wrought-iron masterpiece of art. The gate was six feet high and an intricate piece of craftsmanship. He had studied it on more than one occasion, noting the symbols and depic-tions of various animals and stars and moons. A collage of creatures with raw power mixed with universal signs of the earth, water, fire, and wind. Always before when he had come to stare at the house and grounds the gate had been firmly locked.
    "It was open," he replied simply.
    Her eyebrow shot up and she looked from him to the gate and back again. There was interest in her gaze. "And the dogs?" Her hand dropped to one massive head as she absently scratched the ears.
    "They gave me the once-over and decided I was friendly,"
    he answered.
    A faint frown touched her face, was gone in an instant.
    “Did they? You must get along well with