“What’s this? Who are these burglars robbing me pantry?”
Cooke’s fall back into her Irish brogue usually meant she was teasing or angry. Since they didn’t know which, they blushed and kept silent. Or mostly silent.
Keta couldn’t stand it, and she blurted, “We were so hungry, and the guys were just as worried as we were, and we thought you might need us, so we decided to come home,” she gasped, “and check in, but then we worried we might wake you.” She blushed so hard her ears nearly bloomed.
Cooke snickered and hugged the blue haired girl, then ushered the four of them into the dining room where she served up a massive platter of bacon and eggs. The four friends hardly knew what to think. Something was different, and everyone behaved like nothing was wrong.
The coffee was fresh when Cady joined them with a steaming mug and several yawns. The girls bombarded her with questions.
“You won’t believe it. Rhea lives. That’s all you need to know now. You’ll get to see her tonight, I promise.” Catarina nodded to the relieved faces. “Now I want some breakfast and then I really need sleep.” She yawned again.
“Thank the Goddess! She’s alive. I was so afraid,” Victoria said around a hunk of bacon. “The cards whispered some strange things. The Tower card still concerns me. But she is alive. Everything is okay.”
“Except for Tyler,” Steel noted quietly.
“I would be scared to get the Death card,” Seth answered Victoria and ignored Steel. “But looks like Rhea survived despite losing her baby.”
“Enough of that talk. Eat up and off with the lot of ye,” complained Cooke. She offered the guys one of the spare rooms at the top of the stairs, and she demanded the girls go right to bed. “Long nights behind us and more ahead. You need rest.”
“Yes Mom,” Keta whined before the sleepy crew drifted upstairs.
When the kitchen was calm and empty again, Franklin popped in.
“They are going to need our help.”
“I know, ye lugger. We’ll be there when they figure out how to get to Fairy,” she promised. “What about the prophecy and the young sir? Do they know yet?”
Franklin shook his head. “I think we all have realized they were wrong and the prophecy isn’t finished.” He presented Cooke with one of the new golden roses. “I don’t believe we’ve met her yet.”
THE USUAL SUSPECTS gathered in the library after dark but the mood shifted from last night’s terror to tonight’s happier, unbridled relief. Am and Dra offered very few details. Cady tried to explain the physiological changes in Rhea.
“It feels like we’re getting the movie credits and missing all the good parts,” Seth observed.
“There isn’t a need for detail,” Am noted. “I think it might be easier if you see for yourselves, yes?”
The lighting in the library was minimally sufficient. The fireplace blazed and filled the room with a comfortable warmth as well as additional light. November promised a colder than average season, but everyone was used to the house fires.
“Who goes first? I would like to see her,” Victoria stood.
“I have wanted to see you, too,” Rhea said from the back of the room.
She startled them, and everyone jumped. Gasps and elation followed. The guys stood as Rhea walked by without a sound, and slipped into Amor-el’s arms. Reaper whined and pushed his head under her hand. Rhea bent slightly and scratched his ear. She let them stare. They might need time to adjust.
“You’re a vampire,” Keta said with wide eyes. “You’re like Dra.”
“The Moon, the Tower, and Death,” whispered Victoria. “So that’s what it meant.”
Rhea nodded to Victoria. “You were right on all those scores, my dear. I think I have learned I must trust your cards. They seemed to know my fate before any of us.”
“I’m sorry about the baby, Miss Rhea,” Seth said softly.
“Thank you, but we have reason to believe she’s alive and well. Am and I plan to find out soon.”
“Um, Rhea, about that. I hate to leave you but I must. In the morning,” Dra shrugged.
“Back to New York? Can I come too?” Keta’s hopeful voice rang out.
“Sorry, hon. No, I’m headed home, to my country. I have to have that official wedding before my birthday, and I need to meet with the council for my coronation.” She stared at Amor-el. “It will give me a chance to deal with Raikas. Perhaps I will be able to stop in Normandy and look for Destin. I can beat Selwyn with his other arm.” She smirked.
Rhea’s eyes blazed, and that’s how everyone got their first look at the phoenix’s new fire.
“We planned to attend your wedding, my friend.”
“You worry about your children, Rhea. I’ve got the rest,” Dra whispered.
“Soon as the holidays are over,” Am added. “I need time to help you adjust before we go, my love. Watching me hunt and hunting are completely different. So many little things.”
“I am ready,” she cooed. “I believe it will be a little like making love.”
Seth made a face, and the others laughed.
“Anyone want to go with us to Fairy?” Rhea wondered.
Immediately the gathering silenced.
“What?” Steel’s mouth fell open.
“That’ll be a happy New Year,” Keta grinned and twirled around. “They won’t know what to make of all of us.”
Am stared at Rhea. She did not join in the celebration. Her eyes glowed with a strange new menace.
“They will regret what manner of evil they wrought this night,” Amor-el said slowly.
“I am counting on it,” Rhea whispered.
November 3, 1997
THREE MEN HUDDLED in their heavy skins. One wore a natural white wolf skin. The second hunched into his bearskin. The third man, used to the cold, donned a hooded coat edged in green stones. Once more, they came to the cliff’s edge. They measured success and failures by degrees. Tonight the measurement for success was tallied by blood.
Duke Selwyn’s shoulder wrap added extra warmth but could not heal the loss of his arm. Prince Vaeryl glanced away. Such injuries failed to elicit genuine emotion from him. Toying with your enemies is tantamount to disaster. Such wounds were the result of weakness. The Prince hated weakness.
“We’re one short. Where is Alexi?” Selwyn asked and stared at a new member.
“I want to know the answer to that as well,” said Lord Raikas Olegoski as he kicked the table leg.
“Did he not marry your ward, Raikas?” pressed Selwyn. “My grandson tells me there was a wedding. Don’t tell me he absconded with your precious little princess.”
“He’s missing,” Raikas growled. “And how is babysitting these days, Edward?”
“Destin will come around,” Selwyn snapped.
“Stop, I beg you. Your sniping serves nothing,” Prince Vaeryl nervously glanced out the window. “The glamour here is temporary. Get on with it.”
“We still have no book, but we do have the children. That is a major success.” Raikas paused when neither answered. “You do have the children?”
Prince Vaeryl allowed his self-confidence to shine through. “I have the new babe. She changes and delights my people with every passing day. Should I return her to her mother, she might be about three years of age now. Our revenge is at hand. But she is not human.”
“Of course not. A vampire and a phoenix? She’s a phoenix, right?” Raikas snarled.
“She is neither phoenix nor vampire. Nor is she human. We do not know what she is destined to become.”
“What? Have you unleashed yet another abomination?” Selwyn rubbed his shoulder again.
“My lord, are you telling me that we may be facing a change in the prophecy?”
“Perhaps. Fortunately, she remains veiled in Fairy and safe with me.
“What of the phoenix?”
“Dead,” Selwyn said.
The other two men applauded.
Wind whipped around the house. The fe
rocious storm moaned and augmented cries of wolves in the distance. The small shack shook violently, and snow bled through the crevices.
Some secrets are impossible to keep.
Without warning, the front door blew open, and a person in a blood-red cloak appeared in the doorway. The men held up their arms, braced against the gale, and urged this guest to come in and close the door. She did, but not before she welcomed in a large black wolfhound. The men backed away from this beast who snarled and snapped at them.
The man with the hooded cloak and green stones suddenly vanished.
“Coward!” cried the first man.
The newcomer’s red-gloved hands pushed back her hood and revealed luxurious red hair and bright green eyes.
The woman slowly took in the face of each man and then stared at Raikas.
“Hello, honey, I’m home.”
Acknowledgements
When the going was tough and I needed help and support, these special folks provided. My gratitude for their them is eternal.
New author Terri Wilson, my oral editor and cheerleader during this novel’s birth. Tessa is for you, my friend.
Jade Ryn for guidance and thoughtful discussion of the Tarot cards. Always consult the fae about such matters. Thank you, my wee fairy.
Bestselling author Elaine Calloway for the front cover review. No words are enough. Thank you for your generosity and support.
Yvonne Mason, Pam L’Heureux, Marcia Kay Feese, Mary Deal, Karen Taylor, Stephanie Seidler, Terri Wilson, Amelia Katherine, Crystal Matz, PA; Sean Foley, Jade Ryn, Elena Wasnak, and Tracey Jobes who offered names for the Dark Elf Prince. Congratulations to Amelia, winner of the best name. He will haunt you.
And Yvonne for naming Rico/Ransad. Surprise! He thanks you, too. I am also grateful for your Off The Chain blogtalk radio show giving free, warm, and caring promotions of Indie authors.
To one of the best mentor’s and supporters, Mary Deal. I know you can’t hear me but you made a difference in me.
Ann Nedich for naming Club Malachite.
Marisa-rose Wesley of Cover Me Darling for her amazing book cover. We won a gold medal for Time and Blood.
Cassy Roop of Pink Ink Designs for formatting the interior of my stories and bringing delicate art to the written page.
My husband Ron. You always believed in me. For running dialogue, fight scenes, and word choices. For being my biggest supporter, my roadie and my manager. For tea and laughter. The bower’s rose comes from you. Forever is only the beginning, my love.
About the Author
Sherry Rentschler is a bestselling, award-winning, multi-genre author of poetry, fiction, non-fiction, and photography. Her work has appeared online and in numerous magazines, newspapers, and books. Rentschler is also a writing coach and mentor to writers of all ages.
A vampire scholar, she is collects dragons and enjoys photographing nature. She loves old Sherlock Holmes movies, reading urban and gothic fantasies, plus indulging in fine wines and dark chocolates. Sherry is a retired USAF veteran and resides in North Carolina with her husband who is also a retired USAF veteran. They await the return of the dragons.
Learn more and connect with the author at www.sherryrentschler.com where you may join Sherry’s street team, sign up for her newsletter, and connect via other links like Facebook and Twitter. Also, you may request signed copies of her books via her website.
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The stories continue!
Look for the next book in
the Evening Bower Series
coming in 2019.
Next up:
Drahomira’s on a mission.
First, her crown.
Next, her king.
Then, a little murder.
And that’s just the first night.
Patience is required
for vengeance.
Stay tuned for
The Gypsy Curse
Love and Blood (Evening Bower Book 2) Page 30