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Lost and Found

Lilian Carmine




  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  About the Author

  Also by Lilian Carmine

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One: Witchy Boot Camp

  Chapter Two: Blind Sighted

  Chapter Three: Presentations

  Chapter Four: Playtime with The Lost Boys

  Chapter Five: The Cool Nerd

  Chapter Six: Secret Investigation

  Chapter Seven: Misty Lake

  Chapter Eight: Lost in the Woods

  Chapter Nine: The Last Breath

  Chapter Ten: An Epic Win

  Chapter Eleven: Returning Favors

  Chapter Twelve: Baby Talk

  Chapter Thirteen: Blackout

  Chapter Fourteen: Blank Page

  Chapter Fifteen: Best Friends For Ever

  Chapter Sixteen: Fired Up

  Chapter Seventeen: Haunted

  Chapter Eighteen: Perks of a Husband

  Chapter Nineteen: Dinner for Two

  Chapter Twenty: Just a Little Patience

  Chapter Twenty-One: Old Friend Return

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Pieces of Puzzle

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Finding Clues in a Wasp Nest

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Beneath the Starlight

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Welcome Back

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Better Safe than Sorry

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Chasing a Hunch

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Fearful

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: Ring of Fire

  Chapter Thirty: Memories Out

  Chapter Thirty-One: One Last Thing

  Chapter Thirty-Two: Happy Normal Ending

  Chapter Thirty-Three: A Normal Future

  Epilogue: A Glimpse Ahead

  Copyright

  About the Book

  JOEY HALLOWAY IS LOOKING TO THE FUTURE

  Freshly married to her high-school sweetheart, Joey is excited for an uncomplicated life, free from the paranormal terrors she and Tristan have endured.

  BUT FIRST, SHE MUST FACE HER PAST

  Joey’s unique supernatural abilities have always been a mystery to her, as has the identity of her father – something’s telling her, these could be related.

  Enrolling at a ‘witch camp’ it’s not long before news of a secret League reaches Joey’s ears. But there is someone – or something – that doesn’t want her to find out, and will go to any lengths to stop her...

  The thrilling finale to The Lost Boys trilogy, perfect for fans of Stephenie Meyer.

  About the Author

  Lilian Carmine is the writer of The Lost Boys series. She plans to live in places all over the world, but for now she settles for the worlds and places inside her head.

  She currently works with illustration as well as the next book in The Lost Boys series.

  Also by Lilian Carmine:

  The Lost Boys

  The Lost Girl

  Lost and Found

  Lilian Carmine

  To the fans

  My everlasting gratitude for making my dream come true.

  Chapter One

  Witchy Boot Camp

  “HOW ABOUT NOW? Are we there yet?”

  “Harry, dude, this stopped being funny three hours ago,” Tristan grunted from the driver’s seat.

  It was the twelfth time Harry had asked since we’d set off on the road trip. He had been squirming in his seat for the past hour, fizzing over in excitement.

  Seth sat in the passenger seat, repeatedly turning the map upside down and back again, his tongue poking out in concentration.

  “We should be getting near a small side exit now. The camp is really close, I think,” he stated.

  “Are you sure? You don’t seem to know the right way to read that thing . . .” I muttered from my seat next to Harry in the back.

  “Shut it, Skippy. In this car I’m the second in command. I’m Chewbacca to his Hans Solo. I give the instructions to the captain of the ship here!” Seth said smugly.

  That was Mr. Seth Fletcher, my hardcore nerdy blond friend.

  “Fine, Chewie,” I grumbled under my breath. I had been demoted to the back seat because even if my life depended on it, I wouldn’t know how to read a map and give the right instructions, therefore Seth had been allowed the seat next to Tristan to assist him as the official navigator.

  “Are Josh and Sam still following us?” I turned round to look at the road behind us. Sam and Josh had most of our luggage and instruments in their car, and were following us close behind. Nobody had wanted to sit in the back of their car because of Rocko, Sam’s new dog. Rocko, an English Mastiff, tended to get car sick quite easily, and I couldn’t think of anything worse than a barfing hyperactive dog on such a long journey.

  “Man, this trip is going to be friggin’ swell!” Harry exclaimed, imitating the Fifties slang that Tristan sometimes used when he was excited. “We are going to rock the fans’ socks off with this new album. I can feel it!”

  We were heading out of state to a private camp in the woods. A secluded cluster of cabins in the middle of nowhere was the perfect place to start working on the new album and brainstorm some new songs and lyrics in privacy. We’d be semi-incognito, so wouldn’t even need a security guard, which was a relief after the way the last one had turned out.

  The girls had been left behind. Seth and Sam’s girlfriends, Tiffany and Amanda, were used to the band’s private get-togethers whenever we had a new album to work on, and Robin, Harry’s new girlfriend, was having a vacation of her own with a couple of friends. But this trip wasn’t just about work, although the girls weren’t aware of our ulterior motives for this week away.

  “I’m just happy to be free of the press right now,” Tristan mumbled, staring at the road ahead. Ulterior motive number one.

  After getting engaged on a small island off Italy, Tristan and I had announced our marriage to the press a couple of weeks later, once we’d arrived home and signed the official papers. As we’d expected, the local media went nuts at the news. We couldn’t go anywhere without being hassled by photographers and harassed by the paparazzi. A photograph of the happily married rock-star couple was currently worth big bucks, and the vultures were fighting for a chance to snatch that one golden picture.

  Tristan resented this invasion of our privacy; he hated the exposure that came with the band’s fame and success. This week away was the perfect chance for us to have a break from all the nosy reporters for a little while.

  “Here’s the entrance! Turn here.” Seth pointed to a metal sign at the side of the road. “It says ‘Misty Lake Woods’. That’s the name of the place, right, Joey?”

  “Yep. That’s the place.” I nodded as Tristan slowed the car. He flicked on the indicator so Sam, in the car behind, wouldn’t miss the entrance. For good measure, he also thrust one arm out of the window to point in the direction we were headed.

  It took a few turns down a narrow graveled road before we finally reached a small cabin that looked promising. From its roof hung a big wooden plaque with “Misty Lake Camp” carved on it in big yellow letters. A guy came out of the cabin as soon as he saw our cars approaching, and introduced himself as Craig Simms, the camp caretaker. He was middle-aged, short and a bit chubby, with grizzly brown hair and a bushy moustache. He wore round, thin-rimmed glasses and was dressed in khaki adventure shorts and a shirt.

  Craig instructed us briefly about the directions to the camp itself and handed Tristan a small map, circling the two cabins that were reserved for us with a red Sharpie.

  He told us the main house was right down the road, and our cabins were further up the hill into the woods. “Miss Harker has asked for Mr. Joe Gray to check in at the main house as soon as he arrives. She
is waiting for him,” Craig informed us, peeking inside the car to see which one of the boys was “Joe”.

  “It’s Mrs. Joe Halloway,” I corrected him.

  “But Joe is a boy’s name . . .” he countered, despite the fact that Seth and Tristan were trying to give him subtle please don’t looks.

  I guess the last name could change all it wanted, but the curse of the boy’s name still continued, firm and strong. Whoop-de-doo.

  “Oh, I beg your pardon . . . Mrs. Halloway,” Craig apologized, with a frown, after finally noticing the boys’ reproachful glares.

  “Yeah, yeah. Joe is a boy’s name,” I said, slightly annoyed. “Fair mistake. Happens all the time. Let’s get a move on.”

  Tristan thanked Craig for his assistance and drove up the hill for a couple more minutes, turning left on to an even narrower trail before we reached our final destination: two wood cabins nestled cozily amongst the tall pine trees. One cabin was considerably smaller – for Tristan and me – and, a few meters away, the other was significantly bigger, for the boys. Everybody started getting the bags, backpacks and musical instruments out of the cars the minute we had parked.

  “We can quickly drop our bags in the cabin and I’ll drive you to the main house to check in,” Tristan proposed, but I dismissed his offer.

  “It’s all right, Tris, you can go inside and relax now. We’ve had a long journey; you must be tired from driving. And it doesn’t seem to be too far to the main house. Plus, I need to stretch my legs. You take the bags inside, and I’ll go meet Celeste, okay?”

  He leaned closer and pecked me on the lips. “Okay, buttercup. Have fun with Celeste, then.” I snorted loudly at that remark, and he arched one eyebrow in reply. “Be nice, Joe. You promised you’d try, remember?”

  “Yeeeah, I remember. I will, don’t worry. It’s mostly force of habit. ‘Celeste’ and ‘fun’ don’t fit in the same sentence. Ever,” I said, but quickly followed up with, “I know she’s trying hard to be more patient with me. I must try to be, too.”

  Celeste was the second reason for this trip. Ulterior motive number two. I wasn’t here just to work on our next album and to escape reporters, but also to attend a Gathering for witch apprentices. This year, the Harker sisters were coordinating it.

  Celeste Harker, the eldest of the three Harker siblings, had taken over Miss Violet’s role as my occult mentor, after the whole situation with Tristan in the first year we met. Miss Violet had assisted during those hard times – when Tristan was brought back from the dead – and Celeste had taken on her mantle afterwards, tutoring me in the occult arts of witchcraft.

  It hadn’t ended well. I was too short-tempered, and Celeste was too strict, bossy and a gigantic pain in my ass, so one day I quit after a heated argument and left her house, determined never to return again.

  Until a couple of months ago, when I had, as I’ve tended to do, waddled into murky magical waters. I had got myself into big trouble by accidently switching powers with my other-worldly friend Vigil. Celeste had helped me through the whole ordeal and had been there for me when I’d needed her most.

  We had both agreed to give the mentor-slash-tutoring thing another chance. We had even shaken hands. I promised to be more focused and zealous with my studies, and Celeste was going to be more patient and understanding in return.

  When Celeste had called to invite me to this Gathering for young apprentices, I’d agreed to go. But not just to honor my promise to Celeste to take this occult thing seriously – there had been another reason for my quick acceptance.

  Ulterior motive number three.

  For the last couple of weeks, my mother had started acting very strangely. At first, I’d put it down to some sort of shock that I’d almost died after my last turbulent magical mess, which had left me in a hospital bed – or to my secret marriage to Tristan after that. But then she’d invited me back home to Esperanza and dropped the biggest bomb since I found out that Tristan was a ghost.

  “I can’t believe you’re only telling me this now!” I’d exclaimed, shocked at the news she had just given me.

  “I’m sorry, munchkin. I have always had my suspicions, but I didn’t know for sure. The first inkling I had was that New Year when you brought a boy back from the dead. I wanted to wait to see how things went with Tristan before saying anything, but after this last scare with Vigil, I realized I’d waited too long.”

  “You mean you’ve known something was up since the day I brought Tristan back?” I said, and then gasped as realization hit me. “That’s why you handled things so well, wasn’t it? I did think you were being outstandingly understanding at the time . . .” I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at her. “. . . too understanding.”

  She squirmed in her seat, looking flustered and all guilty. “It was only a small suspicion but, deep down, I’ve had it since you were very little. You could see – can see – people’s feelings so clearly; you can read people like open books! But then I thought maybe you were just a very sensitive and perceptive girl. Some people can be that way, you know. But that craziness with Tristan happened in the new year. You had a lot to deal with. I didn’t want you to be even more scared than you already were. I even tried to convince myself it was something to do with Tristan rather than you. I used my time at work to track down his background history and dig through his past, while you were at home busy worrying if he was going to go to school with you or not.”

  I tried to protest, but she shushed me. “Oh, you know it’s true, Joey, stop it! Your only concern back then was to keep him by your side, and you know it. You didn’t stop to think about any of this magic nonsense happening to you! But I was trying to figure it out while you were away boarding at Sagan. Only I didn’t find anything suspicious or dark about Tristan’s past, so I was stuck again. I had no idea how to explain what was happening to you.

  “And then Tristan was gone, and you were devastated. You were hurting so much, I . . . I . . . couldn’t bear to talk to you about it. I thought you needed some time first to heal, mend your broken heart. I thought this magic craziness was finished, with Tristan gone.” She sighed deeply, passing a frustrated hand through her hair. “How naïve I was, to rely on wishful thinking. You managed to bring him back again. And then you had magic forever in your life, constantly by your side, in Tristan’s presence.

  “You were so happy, living a normal life,” she said, her eyes full of apology. “You had a boyfriend who adored you, and you had your band. Everything was good and back to normal. I thought all the magic troubles were over. I didn’t want to put any doubts in your head. They could stay only in mine. But the truth is, your father—”

  At this I couldn’t help but interrupt. “You think this magic I have comes from Dad?”

  She paused. “I don’t know for sure, honey. I told you, your father never said anything to me. He was very secretive about his past, and I suppose that’s kind of a giveaway. As far as I know, he didn’t have any family. He would get very upset when I asked him about it. He’d tell me to leave the past behind and live for the future. It was one of his conditions, in fact, before we started dating: that I had to stop asking about his family. That he alone should be enough.

  “One day he gave me an ultimatum. If I couldn’t let the past stay buried, and if I couldn’t accept him on his own, then things between us were over. I loved him very much. So much that I agreed. The past didn’t matter, as long as I had a future with him . . .” She shook her head and glanced down, her eyes brimming with tears. “I didn’t know I would get such a brief future with him, though. I didn’t know that my decision to stay ignorant could put you in harm’s way now.”

  She wiped the corners of her eyes and took a deep breath, in an effort to compose herself. “The thing is, honey, your father always had this kind of . . . magical aura about him. A little bit like Tristan has. I thought I was romanticizing things, because I was so in love. And he was a musician. You know how it is. They all have a special glow about them . . . But smal
l things – weird things – sometimes happened around your dad. And then weird things started happening around you, too . . . Well, let’s just say I don’t believe in coincidences. I’m worried about you, Joey. I don’t know how much more weird this can get. Last time, you ended up hospitalized!”

  “You think something happened to Dad, Mom? Did he die because of magic?” I asked, scared. “Did something strange happen?”

  “No, no, honey. What happened was an accident. Your dad was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Magic had nothing to do with it, just bad luck. The guy that robbed that convenience store is locked up for the rest of his life; he won’t hurt anyone ever again.” She put her hand gently over mine, trying to comfort me. “But I need to tell you this now, about your dad and magic, in case you want to look for answers yourself. Miss Violet said she’d found magic connections to the name Gray when she was trying to help with the New Year’s spell, but she can’t confirm if they have any relation to you. You could investigate a little, maybe try to find out more about your dad’s family? Maybe your friend Celeste might know more?”

  My mother’s eyes had been filled with hope – and regret.

  And that’s really why I was attending the Harkers’ Gathering: to find out more about my magic heritage, my dad’s past – and maybe some family secrets.

  The boys had agreed to help me. I could work on the album half of the time, and study magic the other half, while surreptitiously digging up secrets about my father’s history. Everybody was in agreement, and now here we all were.

  The Lost Boys had arrived at Misty Lake Camp!

  Chapter Two

  Blind Sighted

  I STOPPED IN the middle of the road to check the map that Craig, the camp caretaker, had given us. I seriously sucked at reading instructions; no wonder I had been demoted to the back seat of Tristan’s car.

  The directions seemed pretty clear, though: it was one squiggly trail from our cabin to a big straight road that went all the way down to the main house. Figuring it out wasn’t exactly rocket science, but I had been walking down this graveled road for a while, now, and the main house still hadn’t come into view. It seemed the proportions on the map were a tad incorrect, and the main house wasn’t as close as the map indicated. Either that or I’d screwed up and managed to get seriously lost in the camp already.