Surviving Ivy

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Surviving Ivy Page 17

by Rayne Rachels


  Her parents’ faces turned dark.

  Ivy took a step forward. She lets the energy surrounding her to flow through her. “Your days of personal gain and manipulation are over. As far as I’m concerned the Braxton Coven is dissolved and the witches free from your control. Those who believe as you do will suffer your fate with you.”

  The coven members gathered let out a collective gasp.

  Ivy realized her words had power. “The oaths made to the coven are now and forever dissolved.”

  Her parents screamed and growled. They tried to attack Ivy, but their spells did nothing.

  Thank the goddess for the wards I set up around the perimeter. Ivy pulled more energy to her and whispered a spell that bound her parents’ powers.

  “What have you done?” screamed her mother.

  “You will never be able to hurt anyone ever again.” Ivy felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw Ben looking at her. She gave him a weak smile.

  “I love you my fated mate,” he said.

  “And I love you.” Ivy rubbed her cheek against his hand.

  “Looks like Uncle Todd is here to make your parents leave town. I called him when they first drove up.” Ben gestured toward a set of flashing lights at the edge of the parking lot. They watched Sheriff Todd Anderson walk up through the crowd. He went straight to Ivy’s parents and made them get back into the limo. He then said something to the driver. Several seconds later, the limo drove out of the parking lot. The sheriff went back to his car and followed it.

  Ivy stood up straight. She looked at the gathered witches. “You need to go home. There is nothing left here to see.”

  Several of the witches looked at each other. Finally, one of the female stepped forward. “We don’t want to go back. Many of us would like to move here…to Bryant Station like you did. I hope that maybe my fated mate will be here too. I don’t care if he is a witch, a human or a shifter. I want a mate who will love and care about me.”

  Ivy bit her bottom lip. She looked around the crowd and saw both men and women nodding their heads. She looked at Ben.

  “It’s up to you. I will support whatever decision you make,” he said.

  Ivy turned her attention back to the crowd. “Whether or not you decide to move here, the choice is yours, but there will be no covens. And you will live in peace with all shifters and humans who live here.”

  Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. Slowly, the people made their way back to their cars and drove away.

  Ivy let most of the energy drain out of her. Her shoulders slumped. “What have I done?” she asked as she turned to face Ben and the others.

  “You did what you needed to do.” Ben pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Are you sure you don’t want to lead the coven?”

  “I’m sure. I’ve never wanted that responsibility. All I’ve ever wanted was my mate and hopefully one day children, or in our case, cubs.”

  Ben kissed her again. “You may be getting more than you want. Sometimes people are called to do things they really don’t want to do because it is their destiny.”

  “Well, that was interesting.” Forrest looked at the others. “I have a feeling Bryant Station is going to have a population growth.”

  “I have a feeling you are right.” Ivy turned to watch the last of the cars drive out of the parking lot. Changes were coming. She felt it, and she just hoped they were for the better.

  “The show is over. Everyone back to work. We have cars to rebuild and customize.” Hank made a shooing motion with his hands.

  Ivy gave Ben a quick kiss. She watched him and the others go back to the garage. She started walking back to the trailer when the toe of her shoe caught on something, causing her to stumble. She managed to catch herself before she fell to the ground. “Horse feathers! I’m still a klutz.”

  *****

  “How are you doing?” asked Ben as he handed Ivy a large iced coffee.

  “I’m okay…I guess.” She flashed him a quick smile and she took the drink. “I mean, it’s not every day your parents try to attack you and you have to bind their powers.” She sipped the drink, and then put the cup on the coffee table. Ivy sighed.

  Ben sat down and pulled her into his lap. “Under the circumstances, I think you did the only thing you could have done.”

  “I know, but it doesn’t make it easy.” She snuggled against him. Her hand rested on his chest. “There was no way I was going to let them hurt you.” I’m glad I cast the protection spells around the garage and our home.”

  “Your powers are growing stronger.” Ben rubbed his cheek against the top of her head.

  “And it scares me,” she admitted. “I can’t believe so many of the witches want to move here. Before we left there were twenty plus phone calls from witches wanting to move here.”

  He nodded his head. “They’re looking to you for guidance.”

  “Fiddle sticks! I don’t want to be a leader.” Ivy closed her eyes and buried her face in her mate’s chest.

  Ben tilted her head so she had to look at him. “Whatever happens, I will be at your side. I’m not letting you go. You are mine, my beautiful curvy witch. Together we can survive anything.” Ben heard his bear grunt in agreement.

  “Together,” said Ivy. “Now kiss me.”

  Epilogue

  “You were right.”

  “I told you Ivy and Ben were the two who could bring shifters and witches back together.” Miss Martha looked up at her sister. “Sit down and have a cup of tea. It’s Earl Grey, you’re favorite.”

  The tall woman with the long black hair sat down. “Maybe just one cup. I want to visit my grandchildren.”

  “How are Theo and Joy doing?” asked Miss Martha.

  “Good. They are so happy,” said Lilianna.

  Miss Martha raised an eyebrow. “You could be happy too. I do believe there is a certain Viking who would love to make you happy.”

  Lilianna shook her head. “It will never work.” She shimmered away.

  “You need to quit running. But then he just might enjoy the chase.” Miss Martha smiled as she sipped her tea.

  THE END

  About the Author

  I have lived in many different towns and cities during my married life, but I have always lived in Texas. I live with my husband who indulges my addictions to books, pens, coffee, stickers, and planners. I also have to very spoilt cats that run the household. I dream of either “retiring” or “quitting” my day job so I can write full time.

  I love reading, science fiction, coffee, and hot tea. I enjoy photography, fishing, playing poker (Texas Hold’em), rummaging through flea markets, and spending time with my husband.

  It is rare to find me without a pen and a notepad, because I’m constantly jotting down stuff. My head is full of story ideas and characters.

  Rayne would love to hear from you.

  http://raynerachels.blogspot.com

  www.facebook.com/raynerachels

  [email protected]

  www.twitter.com/raynerachels

  www.pinterest.com/raynerachels/

  Other Books by Rayne Rachels

  Bryant Station Curves series

  Lisa’s Bear (Book 1)

  Chasing Tara (Book 2)

  Abby’s Heart (Book 3)

  Saving Courtney (Book 4)

  Lauren’s Mate (Book 5)

  Claiming Harley (Book 6)

  Joy’s Forever (Book 7)

  Bryant Station Curves Box Set 1 (Books 1-3)

  Bryant Station Curves Box Set 2 (Books 4-6)

  Reluctantly Undead series

  Reluctantly Undead (Book 1)

  Briary Creek Wolves series

  Bailey’s Secret (Book 1)

  Gracie’s Wolf (Book 2)

  Brimstone Heat

  Lucifer (Book 1)

  Tangled Fates

  Chance to Love Again (Bear Shifters)

  Wolf for Christmas (Wolf Shifters)

  Reluctantly Und
ead

  Ember Winterstone is not having a good night. She wakes up in a dumpster. Her neck hurts where her date used her as a meal. Vampire hunters chase her, and the other vampires think she is the real queen, especially since she is a day walker, eats food, drinks almost no blood, and stands up to Zophia, the psycho vampire queen.

  Ember’s problems have just begun.

  Her mother has kept a couple of major secrets from her. The two men who make Ember drool refuse to claim her. The psycho vampire queen decides Ember must die.

  EXCERPT:

  I do not know if it was the smell of rotting trash or the cat licking my face, but something woke me. Maybe it was a combination of the two. Either way, I was awake and I was clueless as to where I was, and to top it all off, my neck ached.

  I took a deep breath.

  Bad mistake!

  The smell of rotting trash filled my lungs. I gagged several times, but that wasn’t the worse of it. My face was pressed up against the remains of someone’s Chinese meal, and not just any Chinese meal.

  Oh no, it had to be sweet and sour pork. Dry heaves racked my body as soon as I smelled it. Sweet and sour pork is not my favorite meal. In fact, for me, it is the meal of death.

  One night, when I was about thirteen years old, mom worked late, so my stepfather brought home Chinese take-out. Later that evening, my stomach started hurting and by bedtime, I was in the bathroom hugging the toilet and wishing I would just go ahead and die.

  I spent two days with the toilet as my best friend and another three days barely able to keep down chicken broth and crackers. I have never seen mom so concerned or angry. I later found out, the sweet and sour pork Henry brought home had sat in his hot car for most of the day, and I was the only one who ate it.

  Ever since the incident, I had a nagging feeling I couldn’t get rid of. Henry had tried to kill me with tainted sweet and sour pork, and it would have looked like an accident. People die all the time from food poisoning, but I was just a kid and I didn’t have any kind of proof. Henry apologized several times, but a little voice in the back of my brain told me to watch him.

  Now, when I see or smell sweet and sour pork, I get physically ill. Maybe it was all in my head. I don’t know, but the experience at thirteen left a very lasting impression. Don’t get me wrong. I love Chinese food. Beef and broccoli, egg rolls, Kung Pao chicken, fried rice are all my favorites, but sweet and sour pork is the food of death.

  And there it was.

  Yesterday’s leftovers were staring me in the face, taunting me after all these years of avoiding them.

  That’s it!

  Another set of dry heaves erupted from my body. Not funny! My stomach’s violent attempts to empty itself weren’t doing anything to help my aching neck.

  I had to get out of here, wherever here was, but sitting up wasn’t so easy. Every time I moved, the stuff underneath me shifted. The large black bags on each side of me didn’t help either. They kept rolling on top of me. I felt like I was in one of those multi-colored ball pits you find in the playground areas of fast food restaurants. You move and the balls move, filling in the space you just vacated. The more I struggled, the more the black bags moved. After what seemed like forever, I managed to fight my way into a sitting position.

  I looked around.

  My brain started functioning, and it dawned on me.

  I was in a dumpster—a stinking, nasty, filthy, rotting trash-filled dumpster!

  I couldn’t believe it. I mean, how did I get in here? I didn’t exactly climb in willingly. I can’t even stand opening the large green trash can when I take out the trash at home. The smell—especially in summer—is enough to gag a maggot! My climbing into the dumpster on my own was off the list of possibilities.

  I sniffed and looked down.

  My jeans!

  There was no way I was going to get the ode de trashcan funk out of my jeans.

  I groaned.

  I just bought them, and they fit good…really good! It’s not easy finding jeans to fit a size 16 frame, especially with a butt like mine.

  I was pissed.

  Someone was going to pay for them, just as soon as I figured a way out of the gross, over-sized tin can in which I was buried.

  Glancing around, I sighed. The dumpster was only half-full, so getting out probably wasn’t going to be easy.

  Pulling myself into a sitting position was an act of Congress, but standing? That had me clueless.

  I pushed and shoved stuff out of my way. I started to groan when I heard a sound. At least, I thought I heard something. I got really still and waited.

  Nothing.

  I started to take to move again.

  “Are you sure she’s dead?”

  I froze.

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” replied a second male voice.

  What the hell, my eyes widened and my heart pounded against my rib cage.

  “It just sounds strange that she died like that. Maybe she just fainted,” suggested the first voice.

  “She was dead. I waited an hour. No pulse. No heartbeat. She was dead…”

  Chance to Love Again

  A Tangled Fates Paranormal Romance

  Tori Brooks, a curvy human, lost her mate and her unborn cubs in a car wreck ten months ago. She has grieved alone, believing her in-laws blame her for Ben’s death.

  Bear shifter, Brad Harris, believes human women are all gold diggers, and assumes the only reason Tori mated with his twin was to gain access to the family’s money. Brad refuses to have any contact with Tori because he doesn’t want to tempt Fate into making her his one—his mate. Brad has plans to settle down with a safe female bear shifter.

  However, a letter demanding money sends Brad to meet Tori for the first time.

  The mating pull is strong, but assumptions, tempers, deceptions, and the past are taking away Tori’s chance to love again.

  Will Tori and Brad overcome the obstacles they face and find love?

  EXCERPT:

  “Have you heard anything from Ellis Transportation?” asked Bentley Harris, as he walked into Brad’s office.

  “Not yet, but I’m not surprised. We just sent over the contract with a new set of numbers. It may take them a few days to go through them,” said Brad Harris, as he loosened the tie that was suddenly too tight around his neck. Contract negotiations were a pain. He hated the paperwork and the back and forth dance that went with it.

  There were times like this when he wished he had been more like his twin, and not give a damn about business attire. The whole suit and tie number was beginning to drive him crazy. He would rather be outside, using his hands to build something.

  Brad ran a hand through his short, brown hair. He thought about how it was when he and Ben actually worked on the job sites. He could almost feel the hammer in his hand, smell the sweet order of freshly milled lumber, and he could hear Ben’s laughter.

  “You’re thinking about Ben again,” said Bentley. There was no use asking questions, when he knew he was dealing with facts. He walked over to the expensive leather couch and sat down.

  “Does it show?” asked Brad as he looked at his father.

  “I see the signs. It has only been ten months. I think about him too, but for you, there is more to it. You see Ben’s face every time you look into the mirror, and you wonder about what could have been.”

  “I can wonder all I want, but—”

  “You are restless. Your bear is riding you hard about finding your mate. I know your mother has been hinting about giving her grandchildren. I think she is trying to fill a hole in her heart.”

  “You call what she is doing just hinting? I think she has managed to parade every eligible female in the whole state in front of me.”

  “You’re her only hope for grandchildren now that Ben is gone.” His father sounded sad. “If there is to be an heir to Harris Construction, it is up to you, which means you need to find your mate.”

  “Not you too!”

  His father gave
him a weak smile. “Grandchildren would be nice, but I want you happy, and right now, you are not happy.”

  “My engagement to Jessica Avery will be formally announced in a couple of weeks at our engagement party. That should make both you and mother happy.” Brad picked up the letter again and stared at it. The urge to wad it into a tight ball and throw it across the room was strong—almost too strong.

  Who did she think she was? Did she think they wouldn’t react to this?

  “Jessica is a lovely woman, but I don’t think you will be happy with her. It’s obvious she is not your one.” Bentley raised an eyebrow. “Why are you settling for anyone less than the one female meant for you? You will never be truly happy without the one meant to be your mate.”

  “I’m not settling. Jessica is a beautiful bear shifter, and she is willing to have a cub,” said Brad. “Mother will get her grandchild and you will get your heir.”

  “But there is no spark, no passion between you. I’m not the only one who has noticed something missing between you and Jessica. In fact, you are acting as if this were a business deal instead of mating for life,” said Bentley.

  Brad did not look up at his father, because the man was right. Jessica was not his one—his mate. He had known it for months. He had a strong suspicion as to who his mate was, but he didn’t want to admit it. Brad figured it was Fate’s way of getting back at him for turning his back on his brother and for his beliefs about human women.

  “I think you are about to make a big mistake that will haunt you for the rest of your life, especially when you do stumble across your one. You’re letting your head rule your heart. That is a mistake. Not all human females have issues with shifters or are they out to use you for money. Ben’s mate was human.”

 

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