Chosen: Book 1 in the Ancients of Light series

by Heather Fleener

None of her acquaintances were ever the wiser that Ella was of the immortal Fire Caste of Witch and she had encountered few immortals in her blissful time free of the drama and strife that remained behind in the Realm. Once she had been shocked to happen upon a lone vampire roaming an alley in search of a human snack, but he had quickly shadowed off upon recognizing her Witch nature. To date no Witch had bothered her, with the exception of her visits from Myrrdyn.

  The Ancient’s appearances were always unexpected but always well received. Myrrdyn had been a favorite in her youth, a solid figure that had always provided just the right word of wisdom or sweet treat when needed. He had not been of her Caste, did not deign to associate himself with any single Caste actually. Perhaps that was the reason that he was so accepting of her and her mother.

  Pursing her lips, Ella gazed judgmentally at her reflection in the bedroom mirror. After smoothing the black pencil skirt over her hips she smiled, her eyes warming with the recollection of the wizened old Sorcerer. In her youth she had been shocked to realize that others of her kind regarded him in fear and awe. He had always been her friend.

  Pulling herself free of her reverie - her friends would soon arrive to collect her - she covered the few steps to her bathroom to fluff her hair and put the final touches on her makeup. Ella added a light sweep of blush to her high cheekbones. The creamy peach coloring of her skin was warm and a perfect complement to her thick, titian-hued tresses. Ending just below her shoulder blades, there was just enough wave to cause the mass to hang in beautiful fullness without actually curling at the ends.

  She pushed a few errant strands back from her vision and added a hint more mascara to the long lashes that framed her emerald eyes. The color was mesmerizing…her mother had possessed the very same eyes and Ella had gazed into them with adoration the first eighteen years of her life. Finished with her primping, she tugged one more stray lock into place. The fiery color was definitely not from her mother, Ella was most certain of that, since Seve had stick-straight chocolaty tresses.

  Neither did she get her towering height and strong build from her petite mother. Ella was only a couple of inches short of six feet and her frame was accented by lean muscles. That had served her well during their time in the Realm. Though they were not of the Warrior Caste, Ella had been drawn to that group when they had returned. Much begging and pleading had finally convinced her mother to allow her to participate in training with those that learned weaponry. While the strength and fighting talent of the Warrior Caste was not innate to all in the Witch breed, any witch willing to learn was trained to wield weapons of war.

  Ella had, much to her mother’s delight, been exceptional with weapons. Had she stayed in the Realm she might have assumed a prominent role in her own Caste. After her departure, she had kept herself in warrior form out of habit and because she actually enjoyed the physical activity of her exercise routine. She had purposefully abandoned her practice of magic though, leaving that to her Caste mates that remained embroiled in the war between the Light and the Dark in the Realm.

  Exiting the bath with that thought lingering, she dropped to the edge of the bed to tug on knee length black boots, and then stood to smooth her hands over her clingy black sweater. Giving herself a final once over in the mirror, she exited back to the only other area in her apartment, a small sitting area that merged into a smaller kitchen. Though tiny, and not in the best neighborhood, her home was warmly decorated and tidy. She loved it here…because it was hers and it was not in the Realm.

  A sudden grin took her face…the advent of a spectacular life was on the horizon, she could all but feel it. Still smiling, she snatched her black clutch off the table and headed out the door, not stopping to dim a single light. With the brightness of the room and in her haste, Ella failed to see the dark figure that shadowed away from the lone window of her apartment.

  CHAPTER 2

  The night had slipped by quickly, one club after the next and all began to blur. The large number of drinks that had been pressed on her, each with a toast of her success, hadn’t helped. Eight of her friends had dragged her very willing-self through the club scene quite late into the cooling Chicago night.

  Ella had just exited the mass of bodies on the dance floor and was grateful to feel the cooler air wash over her as she trekked to the bar. Jason – the rich little frat bastard - had opened a tab for her. Her slur on his parentage was nothing more than a running joke between them and since tomorrow she had only a date with her pillow, she was determined to enjoy herself fully at his expense. Until the bar closed and she stumbled home, Ella was in celebratory mode. A witch did so love to party.

  She thought for a moment she felt eyes trailing her, but shook the feeling off. In this large mass of intoxicated young adults she might gain the attention of some horny male, though that was not the kind of attention that would normally have her spine tingling. Obviously, she had imbibed too much. That thought did not slow Ella’s progress towards the bar. She hopped up on a stool and waved the bartender in her direction with a flirtatious smile.

  Ella could take no pride in her looks, because those were a blessing of her lineage. Females of the Witch breed possessed a supernatural kind of beauty. It did not mean that she could not and would not use it to her advantage when warranted, and her need of another glass of wine was paramount at the moment.

  The tingling of her powers nudged at her again and Ella frowned in irritation. An unexpected surge of magic always made her nervous. Though she had long since realized it was unreasonable to fear that someone nearby might sense the shift in her energy - years of time with the humans assured her that was not the case - she always experienced a fleeting feeling of unease anyway.

  The current spark of magic was probably brought on by the large volume of alcohol in her blood and the throb of blaring music. Having attributed cause to her magic’s pesky behavior, she brushed all worry aside. Ella was in her element and felt glorious, flirting wickedly while she requested her beverage. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror behind the bar, her grin widened. Her cheeks were flushed from her dancing and her eyes were bright. She was actually happy and felt again the foreshadowing whisper of wonderful things to come.

  Ella was still musing over that and the phone number that had accompanied the beverage napkin with her wine when she was nearly unseated by the jostle of a body against her arm. A sidelong glance showed her the large shoulder of a male as he squeezed into the space beside her. Ella shot him an annoyed glare; she hated being pinned in any tight space. When the offender turned to her with a ready apology, her aggravation was forgotten along with all instinct to breathe.

  Her widening gaze took in the most remarkable pair of topaz eyes flecked with shards of gold. With a little bit of effort, necessitated by the amount of her consumption that eve, she drew back and discovered that his face was as intoxicating as the contents of the glass she had been lifting to her lips. His large hand coming to rest on her arm made certain the goblet did not make it any closer to her mouth.

  He shook his head at her with explanation, “Princess, that swill will make your head hate you in the morn.” His accent was European but Ella could not place the locale. The deep timbre of his voice coupled with those good looks had addled her. He looked to be mid-thirties. His skin had a touch of bronze suggesting that he had just come to Chicago from some warmer clime and his black hair just grazed the collar of his shirt. It was sexily disheveled as though he habitually ran a hand through it.

  By the time she remembered to suck in some air, the man had extracted the glass from her hand and was having a hushed conversation with the bartender while sliding her drink away. She took note that her new companion also crumbled the numbered napkin and dropped it dismissively to the floor when the other man walked off.

  He was certainly sin, wrapped in chocolate with a sprinkle of naughty...visions of him would keep her happy in fantasy land for months. Ella felt a stabbing tingle of power again and dismissively tamped it down. Li
fting her gaze to find his riveted on her, it became important to her only just then that he had robbed her of her wine. To interfere with a witch and her consumption of brew was a no-no indeed. Her brow creased in mild vexation, “Are you attempting to cut me off? Because I am a big girl and I can handle…”

  His finger found her lips, cutting off her rant before she could work herself into a lather over the stolen drink. Leaning in close enough that his breath caressed her cheek, he confirmed that the attraction was not one-sided, “I am merely making certain that later, when I taste your lips, they will not be tainted with that plonk.”

  Ella swore he shuddered with the characterization of her aforementioned drink before turning and nodding his thanks to the tender for the bottle of wine and glasses deposited on the bar. He swung that piercing gaze back to lock on hers and murmured in the same smooth tone, “Your head needs to be clear enough to focus only on me when I kiss you the first time, Witch.”

  His words - both his claim to her attentions later and the call to her immortal nature - had the desired effect. A sharp intake of breath and quickening pulse accompanied the rapid rise of color to her cheeks. Her eyes flared wide before narrowing with animosity. An unnatural spark of green swirled in their depths, evidence of the rise in magic, and this time Ella let it go unfettered.

  Her intoxication had been enough to muddle her instincts and cause her to dismiss the warnings her magic had been screeching at her. Now that she had been clued in, it was easy for her to gain a sense of his nature as well…Vampire. Her lips curled in distaste, only to be answered by his smirk as he ignored her obvious ire to attend to their glasses. His unconcerned manner made her furious. He knew her to be a Witch so he should be fleeing in the opposite direction, not pouring her a beverage…the arrogant bloodsucker.

  Shoving aside her shock and recalling the gist of his earlier proposition – kiss him indeed - Ella hissed quietly, “Over my dead body, Leech.” She leaned in while he tarried over the pour of wine. The rolled sleeves of his dress shirt gave her view of his muscled forearms and revealed that any marking of the Light faction was absent. The dangerous sparkle in her eyes grew stronger with the realization that this one was aligned with the Dark.

  He took note of her assessment though he was completely at ease when he set the bottle back to the bar. A cocky grin spread over his face and he countered, “No gorgeous, I prefer your body heated, that sweet mouth of yours begging for more...” The vampire trailed off and presented her one of the two goblets of swirling red liquid. His eyes touched on the flicker of pulse in the column of her neck before he continued in a husky whisper, “And you will beg, Witch.”

  So as not to draw notice of those humans in proximity, Ella eased back and accepted the glass. Tipping it to him in mock salute before raising it to her lips, she whispered over the rim, “This is as close as you’ll ever get, ass leech. Enjoy.” Despite her anger she was tempted to close her eyes and purr in ecstasy as the rich wine bathed her tongue. The fact that he was a Dark parasite that had totally ruined her evening kept her from doing just that.

  Her insult did not give him pause because he witnessed the pleasure that had come over Ella. The witch liked the finer things and that suited him well enough. With her momentary distraction, his hand snaked out to capture the nape of her neck and he leaned in close. He took enjoyment in the fact that her body stiffened reactively when he drew nearer to her throat.

  Shifting direction, the vamp steered clear of her neck and instead nuzzled her ear. A part of Ella itched to remind the Vamp of the danger in toying with a Fire Witch. The still-insane-with-lust side of her wanted to hop up in his lap and say ‘pretty please with a side of whipped cream.’

  She did neither and he continued on with a husky reprimand, “Shhh…do not make a scene. We are amongst humans.” The Vamp dropped back, abruptly releasing his intimate hold and invited, “Call me Cole.” His look was daring her to accept the offer.

  Her whisper crossed the space between them and would have gone unheard over the din of the crowd if not for his keen senses, “I’ll burn you from the inside out and be content to toast your demise as I do…Vamp.” Her blatant rejection of the use of his name had his brow rising, the light in his eyes reflected his pleasure over the challenge she presented. Cole loved stalking prey and the stunning make of this one would make his conquest all the more satisfying.

  Ella deposited her glass back to the bar and made move to rise but his hand met her shoulder and stopped her exit. His unnatural strength was controlled, but evident in his hold. He issued a simple command that seemed more an invitation when coupled with the warmth in his tone and a sensuous smile, “Stay.”

  As much as she might wish this stunning male was harmless, he was a very real and very deadly threat. Her instincts had recognized it long before she had and the fire had apparently grown impatient with begging to be unleashed. The swell of magic inside her when he touched her this time caused her to grasp the edge of the bar tightly. White-knuckled, Ella almost doubled over while she fought for control. She was panting, as much from the pain it caused her to rein in a magical surge of this magnitude as from the fear that swept her at the thought that she might be unable to keep her magic concealed from the throng of humans surrounding them. A panicked glance at her unwanted companion confirmed that he knew exactly what was happening to her.

  Cole had sensed the shift in her internal energies and was pleased by it. He had hoped his high-handed treatment might draw the magic to the surface. Seemingly nonplussed by her condition, he pried one hand free and captured it in his. Entwining their fingers, he began stroking his thumb over the back of her hand. His dwarfed hers. Ella swallowed hard. The quick change in him from domineering male to soothing comforter had her as off balance as her internal fight with her magic.

  Retrieving her glass, he pressed the rim to her lower lip. Her expression told him that she objected to these familiarities, but his stare was calm and unwavering, “That green sparkle in your eyes is most enchanting, but you need to calm yourself Witch. I am not your enemy tonight.” He inched in closer to keep the eerie light from her gaze completely shielded from any onlookers. His eyes reflected a concern for her and he tipped the glass against her lip, inviting her to sip, the soothing rub of her hand unceasing.

  Apparently even her inherent, vampire-loathing Witch nature was not immune to his charm. Ella could feel the magic begin to dissipate as he fed her the liquid. His demeanor remained unruffled, no concern or hostility evident in him. That should have made Ella more wary, but it eased her instead. Allowing her eyes to slip closed, over the space of the next few minutes she was able to rein her power in completely. The vamp continued his attentions and she allowed it even after she knew she had gained control.

  Cole felt the energy level off and had her eyes been open, she would have witnessed a flash of triumph cross his face. He was enjoying the chance to study the witchling up close. Her sooty lashes curled up where they dusted the tops of her cheeks and her creamy complexion was perfection. He had long been tempted by that fiery hair and he was barely controlling the urge to wrap his hands in the thick strands and drag her against him.

  When she at last lifted her eyes to his, there was no spark to greet him, only suspicion. The vamp could have done any number of things to her in those moments that she had been indisposed, but there had been not one hint of evil in his handling of her. Ella did not know quite what to make of him.

  Despite that every inch of her attention-starved body was screaming otherwise, Ella lifted her hand to push his and the wine glass away. Cole obliged her by returning it to the bar and straightening, moving back to give her space. She hadn’t remembered to release his hand though and he pointedly looked at their locked fingers and then extracted his. Ella might likely have kicked him over the smirk that followed if her her vision had not lit on her friend across the room at that same moment.

  The frantic waving in her direction would have been impossible to ignore. Hilary f
lashed the ‘two thumbs up’ in her direction as soon as their gazes met. Ella knew that the other girl assumed she had landed a hot hook-up for the evening. Hilary, whom she adored, was a bit of blonde fluff that fell in love with a new guy every weekend.

  Her friend did not realize that Ella was not just super-secretive about her flings but that Ella had yet to rack up a single one in her twenty six years. As an immortal, she saw no need to rush, she literally had forever. She also had the benefit of learning from her mother’s mistake, so she doubted that she would ever hop into the bed of a male that was not her mate.

  Cole followed her gaze towards the petite blonde and murmured wickedly, “Mmmm…snack.” When he had the audacity to lick his lips, Ella kicked his shin with the sharp point of her boot in silent warning. His only response to her abuse was the narrowing of his eyes on hers and a taunt, “Wicked little witch.”

  She looked at him as though he was daft. In a huff, Ella tapped his chest with her forefinger, “You decide my friend is an hors d'oeuvre and then claim that I am the wicked one?”

  He laughed richly at that before leaning in and fixing her with his gaze, “I do not want an appetizer, Princess. Why would I settle when what I want is right here? The question is…will sacrifice yourself to the big bad vamp to save your friend?”

  Ella knew just from the look in his eyes that he was toying with her, that there was no evil intent behind his words. Her friend would be safe. She could also tell, however, by the level of heat in his stare that were she to accept his terms, her ‘sacrifice’ would entail much more than giving him a satisfying drink of her blood. His proposition did not strike her as repulsive as it should have.

  Watching the internal debate play out over her face, his next proposal was more outrageous, “If you do not stay with me all night, how will you make certain I do not change my mind and have blondie as a midnight snack?” He could tell by shot of green sparkle that flashed in her eyes that his emphasis was duly noted. Cole was enjoying this game and her reactions much more than he had anticipated. Raking his gaze down her, taking in every delicious curve, his eyes were full of sinful promises and a hint of teasing laughter when he repeated meaningfully, “All night.”