by Eliza Gayle
Bound By Magick
ELIZA GAYLE
The Pentacles of Magick Collection
Untamed Magick
Magick Ignited
Force of Magick
Magick Provoked
Bound by Magick
Pentacles of Magick
Copyright © Eliza Gayle, 2011
Cover art by: Mina Carter
Smashwords Edition
Gypsy Ink Books
www.gypsyinkbooks.wordpress.com
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental.
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
What readers are saying about Eliza Gayle’s Books
“Each and every book of the Pentacles of Magick series has been astounding.” ~ Whipped Cream Reviews
“Lucas: A Black Cougar Novel is gripping; adventure packed, and will have you on the edge of your seat from page one…” ~ The Black Raven Reviews
“Dirty Deeds was an exciting novella that just screamed with sexuality. I highly recommend it and look forward to reading additional pieces of work from Ms. Gayle…” ~ Night Owl Reviews Top Pick
Dedication
As always I must thank my family for their infinite patience while I write and edit more stories.
Untamed Magick
Pentacles of Magick
A novella of paranormal romance
By Eliza Gayle
Chapter One
The vision of a woman filling the screen took Graelen’s breath away. The tumble of dark blonde hair cloaking her shoulders and back surrounded an oval-shaped face with wide set, deep green eyes. Perfect white teeth nibbled on the lower edge of ruby lips. It was her—the woman he'd been warned about. The one he'd been waiting for. He'd known she would be beautiful and difficult to resist. What he hadn't expected was the sudden surge in his power at the mere sight of her. Every cell in his body sparked when he first spied her on the security camera, and with the seductive power rushing through his veins he couldn't turn away.
“I'm sorry, ma'am, but Mr. Scott isn't available for visitors at this time. Might I suggest you contact his secretary and schedule an appointment?”
He listened as his butler spoke in his typical clipped tone to the woman through the security speaker outside the front gate. She fidgeted nervously as she tried to convince Steven to let her in to see him.
“Please, sir, could you explain to Mr. Scott that I have come a long way to discuss some urgent family business with him? It’s of utmost importance that I contact him right away.” Her voice flowed through the speaker like the softest jazz on a sultry summer night, and Graelen felt the impact deep in his groin as his cock tightened.
“No, ma'am, I'm sorry, but…”
“Steven, let her in.” Graelen hadn't even realized that he'd walked over to the intercom until he pressed the button, cutting off his butler in mid-sentence. He knew he should let Steven send her on her way, her presence meant nothing but trouble for him. Yet for years he’d wondered what event would finally lead her to him. Despite the danger and risk this woman posed to his family, he had to know. Over the years he’d learned to control the cravings to use the magick at every obstacle, and he was certain he could hold his own with the petite woman now holding court at his front gate long enough to hear her out and discover what she wanted.
“Ma'am, if you will return to your car I will open the gate for your entry.”
Graelen watched as a small, smug grin turned up the edges of her full lips just as she pivoted back to her car. Her heart-shaped ass, clad in worn denim jeans, clung to her like a second skin as her hips swayed ever so slightly. As she reached for the car door she bundled her coat tighter around her waist, reminding him of the cooler temperatures that arrived this week, signaling the imminent approach of Samhain in just four days—the most difficult time of year for him and his brothers to resist the temptations of using magick. The ceremonies and traditions of this time created the most intense power surges that called to them, luring them to embrace exactly who and what they were.
This was simply another uncomfortable indication that his mystery woman's appearance at his doorstep was all part of the prophecy his family feared. The one that doomed them to a lonely and short existence. He should have sent her away and not even started what would likely be a fucked up chain of events. Yet, the power surge at her appearance intrigued him, and he had to know: why her and why now?
He'd deal with regrets later.
He listened intently as Steven ushered her into the library to wait for him. He paced the room, trying to work off some of the adrenaline the power pumped through his body. He had to calm himself before he went to her. It wouldn't do for her to see him this close to the edge, fighting the seduction of the powerful magick that currently enthralled him. It would be so easy to use this extra power to get what he wanted. One short spell and his little beauty would tell him everything he wanted to know. It would be simple to take what information he wanted before sending her back on her way.
Grae shook his head clearing those thoughts from his head. Best to face this head on and meet the woman who would be his destiny.
Rena couldn't believe she'd gotten in. She'd expected getting an appointment with the reclusive Graelen Scott would be next to impossible, and had planned out several clever ways to get him to see her. She’d arrived determined to do whatever it took to talk to him and get some answers.
As she tracked around the library, waiting for the mysterious Mr. Scott, she marveled at the luxurious furnishings surrounding her. She’d crossed expensive marble floors, custom carved pillars, and a multitude of cavernous rooms. From her extensive research she’d learned the financial empire surrounding the Scott family was funded by too many different avenues and products to count. Over the years they’d gotten involved in so many different offerings that it was impossible to pin their fortune on any one business or circumstance. It seemed that whatever the family touched turned to gold, or in their case millions of dollars. A very lucky family, indeed.
The dark mahogany furniture of the room she’d been left in, along with the forest green upholstery and accessories, spoke volumes about the kind of people living in this house. Men. The room was one hundred percent all man. When she touched her finger to the chair behind the desk, she could almost see the man who sat here. The lingering faint scent of his musky cologne mingled with the rich smell of the leather bound volumes lining the walls. Decadent. Powerful.
Careful, Rena. Don't get yourself too wrapped up in this place or the man behind the secrets. You're here to complete the research for your benefactor and get back to the museum as quickly as possible.
Her gaze landed on a framed photograph of four men. Young men, early to mid-twenties, she would guess. All of them appeared strong and gorgeous, each in their own way, yet they were similar in appearance when it came to height and coloring. Drawn to the desk, she picked up the picture for a closer look. The first two dark-haired men looked like twins. Despite their body language showing they were comfortable with each other and happy, their eyes spoke something entirely different. She spied something dark in their gazes as if something was missing and they longed for something more. An alternate path maybe? Rena shook the strange thought from her head. Where did that come from?
Placing the frame back on the desk, she turned her back on the picture, shaking off the weird vibe she'd gotten from it. From the corner of her eye she spotted a f
amiliar book on the shelf and wandered over to take a closer look. Sure enough, it was a recent copy of the Tarot Pedia, not unlike the one she owned herself. Interesting to know Mr. Scott had an interest in the metaphysical. She reached to pick it up…
“Find something that interests you?”
Her arm jerked at the sound of the gruff, masculine voice behind her, and the book plummeted to the ground. She scrambled to pick it up, but in her haste her backpack slipped from her arm, landing next to her feet, its contents scattering around her.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.” The gentle timber of his voice was both courteous and patronizing. She dropped to her knees and began collecting her things, stuffing them back in her pack as quickly as she could. Her heart raced. Her head buzzed. Air, she needed more air. Rena took a deep, calming breath, held it for a few seconds before releasing it nice and slow.
“It's okay.” Her voice trembled. “I don't generally startle that easily, but it’s been a long day of traveling to get here.”
He knelt beside her and that cologne she’d scented near his chair filled her senses—sent her reeling. Together, they gathered her belongings while she tried to steady her racing heart. When his hand touched on a lone Tarot card, his hands stilled and she heard a distinct intake of breath.
“What is this?” He turned to look at her as he asked. She got her first glimpse of gorgeous jade green eyes surrounded by long inky lashes, and she thought she might melt on the spot. His jet-black hair just brushed the edge of his collar, teasing her with a sudden need to touch. Despite his polished appearance she glimpsed something more simmering underneath the surface. Even the sexy lock that brushed his forehead hinted to a wildness she’d not expected.
His perfectly shaped lips were currently set in a grim line, but she still clearly imagined them soft against her own. He stared at her intently, their heads so close to be almost touching, and for a brief moment she would have sworn she glimpsed a molten heat of desire in his eyes before changing to a sharper more assessing look. She glanced down, finally realizing he was holding the card in front of him waiting for her answer.
“It's a Tarot card.” She had no idea what else to say.
“I know it's a Tarot card.” A quiet sigh escaped his lips. “What I don't know is what you're doing with this particular card.” His voice, barely controlled fury, raised the hairs on the back of her neck as she fought the anger his brusqueness rose in her.
She grabbed the card from his hand and waved it in front of his face. “This card is the whole reason I’m here, Mr. Scott. You are Graelen Scott, right?”
“Yes, I am. And what do you mean this card is the reason you’re here?” As he gently pulled her upright again, she took a few deep breaths and started in on the speech she had practiced for hours.
“Mr. Scott, thank you so much for agreeing to see me without an appointment. I'm Rena Gallagher from the Museum of Art History in San Diego, California. I’m a staff historian there, where one of my specialties is Tarot History. Specifically Iconography, which encompasses many specialties, of which Tarot is a favored of mine.” She paused long enough to take a shallow breath before continuing.
“Six months ago I was commissioned to study an ancient deck of Tarot cards believed to be completely different from all other known documented sets. This card is from that deck.” She watched him turn the card over again and again as if pondering the meaning himself. She couldn't take her eyes off his hands as he tapped his fingers against different elements of the card.
“I was specifically tasked with constructing a detailed interpretation of each card, differentiating the variances between common interpretations of similar decks and anything standing out on these cards that were different.” She peered up at him and took the glazed look on his face to mean he was bored with her speech, probably already tuning her out. She needed to switch tracks or he was going to throw her out before she could even get to the unusual details leading her to him and his family estate.
“Mr. Scott.” She waited for him to raise his eyes to meet hers. She needed his full attention. “The specific card you have in your hand, the Ten of Pentacles, has led me to your doorstep. After months of research a simple Boolean search revealed that parts of that card are part of the Scott family crest and have been for centuries.”
“Yes, Ms. Gallagher, that’s true. But hardly a revelation. It's not a secret that during the Victorian occult revival certain members of our family were a little too deeply involved and developed our family crest based on this card. In fact, it was shortly thereafter the matriarch of the family was beheaded for her involvement. Despite her apparent lack of judgment at the time, her husband chose to honor her memory by keeping the new crest. All of which is public record for the research inclined.” His voice lacked the enthusiasm she had hoped for as she grappled with the information he shared.
He strode across the room towards his desk, distracting her from her thoughts and giving Rena a moment to appreciate the movement of his lithe body in his black fitted slacks and black silk shirt. She imagined the powerful muscles of his legs that would flex under her touch. He sat in the leather seat behind his desk and leaned forward, while looking at her intently. He motioned for her to sit in one of the chairs opposite his desk.
“The more important question at the moment, Ms. Gallagher, is how did these cards come to be in your possession?” He indicated the card with a slight wave of his hand. “Eighteen months ago these cards were stolen from our family safe right here in this house.”
The impact of his statement was like a sucker punch to the gut, nearly collapsing her into the chair. As her knees buckled she gripped the arm of the chair to steady herself.
“Stolen?” She studied his face as he watched her, but there were no telltale signs of deceit. Oh God he was telling the truth. He leaned forward on his elbows and lifted his head as if he might whisper a secret to her.
“That's right, Ms. Gallagher, and it's damn odd you showing up here out of the blue with the most important card in the deck.” His words were as cool and clear as ice water. Shocked by the insinuation, she clenched her jaw, struggling to bite her tongue and not fly off the handle with words she would later regret. She couldn't afford to get kicked out of his mansion before she even got to the real crux of her late night unexpected visit.
“Mr. Scott, surely you don't mean to imply that I stole these cards?”
He arched his brow at her statement.
“As I told you I was commissioned to study the hidden meanings in these cards, and the card you have there, your family crest, has taunted me for months now.” She eased back into the chair, taking deep breaths to release the tension that had built over the last few minutes. The situation was spiraling out of her control and she didn’t like it one bit.
“And who, pray tell, hired you to study these stolen cards, Ms. Gallagher?” Rena shivered as his sarcasm snaked along her spine with every syllable. Her hands gripped the arms of the chair as she struggled to remain composed. So much for those anger management classes.
“I'm not privy to divulge that information. The benefactor wishes to remain anonymous.”
“Convenient, wouldn't you say?” he retorted.
This conversation was getting away from her, and she needed to get it back on track. She needed him to focus on what she had to tell him, not the actual location of the cards or why she studied them.
“Mr. Scott, please. I wasn't aware of any issues with these cards being in my possession, and if you have proof of ownership I’m sure that matter can be resolved. However, that's obviously not the reason I’ve come all this way. I'm here because of what I discovered in these cards.” She reached into her backpack and pulled out the black velvet sack that contained the rest of the tarot deck. She moved a few items on his desk to clear an area for her to work and immediately began a detailed layout with some of the cards.
Grae eased back in his chair, watching this stranger and her delicate hands fing
er the cards one by one as she arranged a Celtic Cross layout on his desk. Her nails were clipped short and free of fancy polish, but the shape of her fingers and their graceful movements lured him into watching her every move. He had to fight an inexplicable urge to cover her hands with his own.
“Mr. Scott—” Dragging his gaze back to her face, her eyes shone with purpose.
“Please, call me Graelen.”
“Fine, Graelen, this arrangement is called a Celtic Cross layout.”
He compressed his lips to keep his amusement inside so as not to insult this unusual woman who mistakenly thought he needed a Tarot lesson. She continued on to explain the traditional meaning and placement of each card. She seemed very thorough, if a bit mechanical, in her Tarot knowledge.
“I didn't find a lot of differences until I got to this card, the Ten of Pentacles.” Her hand shook as she placed it down on the desk in the final slot of the layout.
A small stream of power rose in the room, enough to raise the hair on his arms.
Graelen leaned across the desk to examine the card closely. “Uh, Ms. Gallagher—may I call you Rena?” She nodded her assent. “I don't see anything different about this card.” Although the increase in power concerned him. A civilian like her should not be able to have this affect. “It's been in our family for generations and, while it is a beautiful depiction, I don't see what has piqued your interest.” His hand reached for the card and brushed against hers for a brief moment. A whisper of power sparked through his arm and his heart stuttered in shock. Her sharp intake of breath told him she had felt it, too.
