by Julia Mills
Their fight was brutal. Little could be heard over the sound of shouted spells and misdirected magic exploding all around them. It would’ve gone far longer had Cleland not magically appeared shouting, “Scriosta!”
In the blink of an eye both men collapsed to the ground…dead. Another dark wizard appeared on Cleland’s left, shaking his head in disbelief. “What a waste.”
“Yes, my dear Cain, it is a tremendous waste, but sometimes you must sacrifice a few bad apples to rid the orchard of the rotten ones,” Cleland answered as he turned on his heel and wondered back towards the Sacred Circle.
Liam’s heart clenched, remembering how Hannah’s voice had cracked as she bravely held back her tears while telling him the tale. He would never forget her final words, “And I had to sit there, hidden like a scared little girl and watch those bastards kill my dad. I was able to fight off the spell to send me away, but I was still invisible. I screamed spell after spell but I was still a novice, so they couldn’t hear them. My magic had no effect. But now I can kill them; I can kill them all and one day, I will avenge my father’s death.”
Melanie’s voice broke the spell Hannah’s memories had woven. Liam saw the determination in the young nurse’s eyes, heard the thoughts his brethren was sending to him through their unique link, and for the first time in days felt real hope. “I agree. There’s no way Hannah’s done anything willingly, not the way she hates your grandpa. But that raises a whole new set of questions. If not Cleland, then who would do this? Are there people still loyal to the Draoi? To the Dorcha? Does anyone know how to stop whoever or whatever is poisoning my mate?”
He speared Melanie with a look even though he knew it wasn’t her fault. Liam just seriously needed someone…anyone…to blame. Jace quickly stood, took a step towards him, and in a low growl warned, “Back off, Li. It’s not Mel’s fault.”
“I know. I know. I’m sorry. It’s just…” He had no idea how to finish his statement or what to do, so he just shook his head and prayed his closest friends would understand.
Melanie walked forward and hugged him as best she could considering their huge height difference. Being six-foot-six from the age of thirteen had been a challenge, but one Liam had soon found he could use to his advantage. Bending at the waist, he hugged her back, nodding to Jace at the same time.
“Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to be a dick. You know I love Mel like a sister. It’s just that this shit is messing with my head. What if…”
“No ‘what ifs’ dude. You know better. If it hadn’t been for you when Mel was captured and hurt, I would’ve lost my fucking mind. We’ll figure this out. You gotta keep it together. You gotta be strong for Hannah. Now give me back my mate.” Jace winked. Liam smiled and for a moment, all was right with the world.
Melanie pulled away, looked back at her mate, and was just about to speak when a knock at the front door startled them all. Using his enhanced speed, Jace was at the door and had it opened in two seconds, revealing the oldest of their Force, Royce, and his mate. Both the six-foot-eight, carrot-topped giant and his barely five-foot platinum blonde witch of a mate frowned then walked through the door.
Kyra was the first to speak. “You two really need to learn to shield your thoughts better. I know you share a special connection with the big guy here, but he picks up damn near everything y’all say when you’re stressed. Which means I hear it and you know I have a bad habit of sticking my nose in where it doesn’t belong.”
She chuckled before playfully elbowing Royce in the stomach and taking a seat on the edge of the couch. Looking around the room, Kyra took a moment to examine each of them closely before continuing. “So spill. What the hell’s going on now?”
Liam would’ve laughed aloud, but the look on the older Guardsman’s face told him laughter of any kind would most definitely end with extra training and more than a little ridicule, not to mention a smack to the back of the head that would leave him seeing stars. Instead, he began explaining and ended with, “So now you know everything we do.” He paused, hoping one of them would comment instead of sitting there with their brows furrowed.
When nothing happened, Liam stood and paced, only speaking as he made his third loop around the living room. “Is there anything you can do to help?” He looked at Kyra, one of the most powerful white witches he’d ever encountered and daughter of the Grand Priestess.
Nodding, she answered with her usual unwavering determination and enthusiasm. “What the hell do you think we’re doing here? Of course I can help.” Jumping to her feet, she grabbed the bag she’d dropped at her feet when they entered and headed to the kitchen, talking over her shoulder as she went. “Come on, Mel, let’s see if all your training is paying off. I bet we find out what’s wrong with Hannah before these big lugs can even round up the rest of the troops.”
Kyra’s confidence was just the boost Liam needed. With more than he’d felt in the last few hours, he asked, “You want everyone to come here? Or the Great Hall? Or the Meadow?”
“Slow down, young’un.” Royce chuckled. “Why don’t you head over and check on Hannah? Stay with her until we know what’s up. Make sure nothing else happens while Kyra and Melanie get our game plan worked out. Jace and I’ll go to the training pit and explain what’s happening to the rest of the guys.”
Saying goodbye as he headed out the door and scolding himself for not thinking of watching over Hannah before being told to do so by Royce, Liam made his way through the dense forest surrounding the Blue Thunder Clan’s lair. He started to use his enhanced speed but stopped almost as soon as he started. Getting to his mate was his priority. Making sure whatever was trying to take her from him was held at bay was at the forefront of his mind, but he also had to come up with a reasonable explanation for why he was popping up in the middle of the day. Hannah wasn’t gullible and her suspicious nature wouldn’t be dulled by his mere presence alone. She would ask questions, and if whatever was inside her was also listening, Liam needed a damn good cover story.
Lost in thought, he missed the scent of sulfur in the air and the sound of footsteps crunching the fallen leaves on the forest floor until it was too late. A sharp blow to the back of his head had him falling forward as the world around him faded to black.
What fresh hell is happening now?
CHAPTER TWO
Where am I? How did I get here? What the hell is going on?
For the fourth time in as many days, Hannah awakened unsure of where she was, not sure how she’d gotten there, and with a hangover bigger than Texas. But it was the feeling of doom that left a boulder-sized pit in her stomach.
Oh joy!
This time, she was a few miles behind the lair of the Blue Dragons, sitting atop the cliffs, inside a quickly dissipating salt circle, with half burnt candles and sachets of herbs beside her. The sea breeze left little scent other than a salty brine in its wake, so the only clues she had concerning what had happened were those in front of her.
The three candles were black, which meant little on their own. Black candles were used for many things magical, some good and some bad. Unfortunately, coupled with the Dandelion root, Dragon’s Blood, and crushed Elderberries she found when she opened the sachet, along with the Blackthorn blossoms she saw skittering across the rocky ledge, it was hard not to imagine the worst. There was only one spell that came to mind and just the thought of it made Hannah’s blood run cold. The Invocation of Lost Souls was a powerful spell that had been banned from the Dorcha, even before Hannah’s birth.
Super! I used a spell that scares even the bad guys.
That single spell, when worked correctly and tainted with evil intent, brings forth all the vengeful spirits within its reach. These phantoms are then under the control of the practitioner, willing and able to do her bidding, no matter how heinous.
Hannah searched her memory, finding nothing but darkness. A bone-deep chill unlike any she’d ever experienced caused her to shiver. Goose bumps rose up and down her arms and the little hairs
stood on end. Walking as close to the edge of the cliff as she could get, the young witch looked at the waves below, marveling as they crashed against the rocks, imagining what the white foam would feel like against her skin. Suicide was a mortal sin for a white witch, even one who’d been raised with the Dorcha and taught to keep her true nature a secret for her entire life. It meant an eternity of roaming the Afterlife as a Fade, never really alive, never really dead. It was in no way what she wanted. Hannah dreamed of a long life filled with love and kids and…Liam, but if things got any worse, she was afraid death would be her only choice.
For one of the first times she could remember, Hannah was really scared. Whatever was happening to her was occurring with increasing frequency and lasting longer every time, getting so bad she was having trouble keeping it all a secret. Early that very day she’d had a ‘mini-episode’ while enjoying breakfast with Liam. The two had been talking and laughing, as was their new routine. Hannah could feel Liam had something important to tell her. The air was filled with electricity and the promise of exciting things to come, and in the blink of an eye, everything had gone dark. When she’d come back to herself, the look on Liam’s face told her he’d seen her mental absence, but wasn’t sure what to do or say. Forcing a smile, she’d promised herself right then and there to give in and talk to her mother.
As Fate would have it that never happened, and now Hannah was standing on a cliff, watching the waves, and wondering where her life had gone off the rails. One thing was sure; she needed to get rid of the candles and sachets. They had to be destroyed. Until she could figure out what was happening, there was no need to leave evidence of her growing insanity for just anyone to find. Gathering up the supplies and rubbing out what remained of the salt circle with the heel of her tennis shoes, Hannah threw the offending items into the surf, watching as they disappeared beneath the waves. Once again wondering if it was her fate to follow in their wake.
Turning, she started back to the lair in search of her mother. Hannah, her mom, her six sisters, and the remaining white witches of their coven had been given refuge with the Blue Dragons after their Grand Draoi had tried to steal his own granddaughter and Hannah’s best friend’s magic, in order to take over the world. Thankfully, Jace and the Dragon Guard found them just in time, stopped the ceremony, and saved them all from certain death.
Over the years, Cleland and his devoted followers had gathered up all the lone white witches they could find, forcing them to join the Dorcha, and then used their pure earthen magic to super-size their own black magic. Had it not been for the Dragon Guard, all those souls would’ve been lost. If only they could find the Grand Priestess Calysta, these displaced witches could move on to other covens or establish one of their own. As it stood, they were in a kind of limbo, living with the dragons until a suitable solution could be found.
Way to avoid your own issues there girlie. Pull your head out of your ass and get moving.
It had been one of the craziest times in Hannah’s life and that was saying something. Life within the coven had never been easy. Hannah and her family were white witches living among some of the darkest and most evil wizards in the world, but it hadn’t always been that way. Her dad called it ‘hiding in plain sight’ and had promised to get them out of there as soon as he could. Unfortunately, before any of that could happen, he was killed on the orders of the same man Hannah and her sisters had been forced to falsely pledge her allegiance to. Even all those years of subterfuge and fear didn’t compare to what she was going through now.
Hannah remembered the stories she’d heard about Cleland before he’d turned to black magic to ease the pain of the death of his wife, Martha. It had happened years before Hannah was even a twinkle in her daddy’s eye, but the tales were told in secret almost daily. Cleland and Martha, along with their best friends, Arthur and Clarisse, were white witches practicing in the same covens they’d been raised in. After the couples married, they broke from those covens and started one of their own, with the complete blessings of their parents and the Goddess.
Cleland’s natural charisma made the decision to make him their leader an easy one. But Arthur was a humble soul with an unassuming nature and it was quickly discovered that those qualities gave him an advantage in mediating and negotiating with other covens and factions within their special world. It was a natural fit that he become Cleland’s second in command. Martha and Clarisse were strong, intelligent, independent women with a love of knowledge. Together, they were instrumental in setting up the educational and social guidelines, as well as assisting with the recruiting of members.
Between the couples’ youth and enthusiasm, and their ideas for reformation within the world of earthen witchcraft, it didn’t take long until their coven was one of the largest and most influential in the world. Along the way, Arthur and Clarisse had three children, while Cleland and Martha struggled to start a family.
Finally, ten years later their prayers were answered, and Martha became pregnant. Unfortunately, it was a difficult pregnancy that ended with a premature birth and both mother and baby spending almost a month under the special care of their strongest healers. During that time, Cleland and Arthur, along with their Council, continued to grow the coven’s membership. Their flock was thriving, but Cleland was becoming increasingly withdrawn and prone to outbursts. Several times, Arthur and the Council were forced to cover for his belligerence and make excuses for his absence from official events.
Finally, Martha and the baby came home. For a time, Cleland seemed to be returning to himself. There were still bouts of sullen behavior and an occasional missed meeting, but for the most part, things were back to normal. That all changed the day of the Harvest Celebration. Arthur, Cleland, and the other able-bodied men of their coven were in the clearing erecting the tents for the following evening’s festivities, when Martha’s frantic scream sounded throughout the entire valley.
With the thought of his family’s wellbeing driving him, Cleland dropped his tools and ran to his home. Arthur and the others followed as quickly as they could, but it was Cleland that reached the large, wooden structure first. Bolting up the stairs, he followed the sounds of his wife’s anguished cries. Running to her side, he dropped to his knees and at once saw the cause of Martha’s despair. There, lying in her arms was their beautiful daughter, cold and lifeless. Her tiny lips that had once been the color of tiny pink tea roses, were quickly taking on a blue tint that reminded the wizard of the biting cold of winter.
Unsure what to do, Cleland looked at his wife and asked, “What happened?”
Shaking her head, she sobbed, “I have no idea. She was sleeping and now she’s gone.” Pulling the small body to her chest, she wailed, “Gone! My baby is gone!”
Scooping his wife and child into his arms, Cleland sat on the edge of the bed holding them as tears wet his cheeks. He saw his best friend and most of their followers standing outside the bedroom door. Unable to speak, he shook his head and thanked the Goddess when Arthur understood his unspoken words, carefully shutting the door and leaving him and his wife to grieve.
Time seemed to stand still. Cleland had no idea how long they’d been sitting when Martha calmly scooted off his lap, walked to the cradle that had been his beautiful baby girl’s, and lovingly returned the child to her blankets as if the last hours hadn’t happened. Unable and unwilling to ruin the first moments of calm his wife had experienced in hours, he simply sat and waited as she took her place in the rocking chair next to the cradle and began to sing. She sang in the language of old, her melody such a haunting mixture of beauty and sadness that Cleland became mesmerized by its sound. It was as if he was floating above the scene, capable of seeing everything but unable to do anything but sit and watch.
It was then he realized his precious wife was not singing a lullaby for their lost child but a spell of enchantment and he’d been caught up in it. Fighting as hard as he could against the continuing magic Martha wove, Cleland was helpless to break its bonds. Eve
n worse, he was helpless to do anything but watch as she drew her athame across her wrist and preformed the ritual that would give their child her life force.
As she fell lifeless to the floor, the spell was broken—but it was too late. Martha was dead at his feet and their daughter crying in her cradle. As the story went, that day marked the end of the white wizard and the beginning of the Grand Draoi, whose heinous acts of terror against their kind are legendary. Hannah shivered, praying to the Goddess that the same wicked nature was not overtaking her soul.
Walking deeper into the forest that separated the cliffs from the lair, the young witch thought about Liam. The vision of his gorgeous hazel eyes with flecks of gold that seemed to sparkle when he laughed pushed away the chill. Her heart sped up as she remembered how soft his short dark hair felt against her fingertips and the way his bronze skin warmed when she touched him.
He always made jokes about how tall he was, but it was one of the many things Hannah was coming to love about him. She had to stand on her tip toes and brace her hands against his broad muscled chest to kiss him. A chest she’d seen firsthand when he’d taken off his shirt during an exceptionally rigorous training session. The sun gleaming off his sweat soaked body had been the fuel for some of her most erotic dreams.
She remembered in vivid detail the spectacular dragon marking that seemed to look back at her as she ogled Liam’s luscious body. It was common knowledge that all the Guardsmen had their own specific glyph, but Hannah had to admit her young Guardsman’s was by far the most handsome. She loved the way the dragon’s regal head laid just over Liam’s heart as if protecting the man within, while the beast’s massive body swept down and across the young warrior’s torso and ribs like armor.
Her eyes had followed the dragon’s bottom wing as the tip disappeared into the waistband of Liam’s jeans. She’d practically giggled out loud as deliciously naughty thoughts danced through her mind. Her fingers itched to trace the upper wing as it followed the beast’s form, wrapping lovingly around her mate’s body just as she longed to do.
