“They're still making those?” I laughed, thinking of the cute little boy Seraphina had given birth to, not long after her inauguration. She'd named him Ro. A simple name, in memory of the man who'd made her child's future—and every child's future—possible.
“They'll never stop.”
Angie folded her arms across her chest. “I keep trying to find Seraphina a decent man, and she keeps rebuffing them all. Last time I was there, I set her up with this delicious—no offence, Bash—but this delicious doctor. He was tall, dark, and dreamy. She tells him, outright, that she has no time for dating. I'm determined, though. I've still got two Idrax brothers to try out on her. I will not be defeated in my matchmaking!”
“Maybe she's happy as she is,” Bashrik replied sheepishly.
“Maybe you'd be happier single,” she shot back, teasing him.
He shook his head. “Never. It’s you or nothing.”
She lunged at him, diving into a passionate smooch that made us all feel like third wheels.
“Where are you headed next, then?” Lauren asked, leaving them to it. She looked to me and Navan, before her gaze drifted to Nova, who was happily throwing scraps from her plate as far as she could, for the dogs to chase.
“Aye, where ye off to? Ol’ Xiph told us he’d sent word to ye a couple months back, that yer bounty’s been called off. All them pirates sent shufflin’ into the shadows ‘cause they’re cackin’ they pants that Xiph the Great Bounty Hunter is gonna tear ‘em a new one.” Stone chuckled. “Must be a right relief though, aye?”
“We thought it best to wait a while, just to be sure the bounty really had been called off. You know what pirates are like,” Navan teased.
“That I do, pal!”
“So, what are you going to do with all this newfound freedom?” Lauren asked, her tone excited.
I shrugged, exchanging a shy glance with Navan. “We want to become true Explorers again. We’ve spent too much time going between here and Vysanthe, and never getting to see anything more of what’s out there. So, I think that’s what we’re going to do.”
Navan nodded. “It seems like the right path. Nova is a child of two species, and we want her to see everything that life has to offer.”
I looked to my husband, and he smiled back, his slate eyes as mesmerizing as ever.
Words Stone had once spoken came drifting back to me, and they had never seemed more fitting. Maybe the universe would forget us, sure enough, but our voices would still tell a tale for years to come, right here for anyone who cared to listen.
For now, it really was ours to explore.
What’s next?
Turn the page to find out…
What’s next?
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for accompanying Navan and Riley through to the end of their journey. I’m going to miss them and their gang (especially Stone, #TeamStone), and I truly hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did. :)
Although these characters’ story has now ended, do not worry, because the paranormal journey will continue with a brand new supernatural series that I am releasing on August 27th, 2018!
Introducing,
Harley Merlin and the Secret Coven
Keep turning the pages for the blurb and a free sneak preview of the first 3 chapters…
Blurb:
Being an empath has its advantages…
Harley Merlin can sense people’s emotions, among other things. It’s how she snagged her first job pinpointing cheaters at a casino. But she has no clue where she got these freakish powers because she spent her childhood jumping from home to home in the foster system, and her father left her with nothing more than a cryptic note.
Then she crosses paths with a terrifyingly real monster. Which is when a mysterious and annoyingly arrogant young warlock named Wade Crowley steps in, introducing her to a hidden world of magicals and covens riddled with secrets—as well as clues about her murky past.
Whether she likes it or not, this new world is where she belongs. But after a disturbing twist of events, Harley quickly realizes that her past is darker than she could ever have imagined. And that someone in the coven is out for her blood.
With the help of Wade and her new friends, she must figure out who the traitor is and why they’re targeting her... Before the human and magical worlds dangerously collide.
For fans of witches, magic and fantasy—welcome to a tantalizing new world.
Prologue
I froze, my back against the window, my whole body shivering as the beast in front of me shuddered with delight.
Another second and I would become its dinner.
Something inside me roared like thunder, unwilling to give in yet. The air around me thickened—I could feel it tickling my fingertips, beckoning me to wield it. I’d done it before, though not with the strength I would need to disable a fiend as savage as this.
But I had to try. There was no other choice.
I summoned all the energy I could muster, and, for the first time ever, I sensed the particles of Chaos flowing through me. My mind went into overdrive, and I thrust my hands out. The winds outside listened, rumbling and whistling as they crashed through the window.
I ducked as broken glass exploded everywhere. Shards cut through the beast’s face and eyes, and it hissed from the pain.
With no other route to safety, I embraced the winds and leapt onto the windowsill. My breath hitched as I looked down at the sheer drop, and then I closed my eyes, abandoning myself to the air.
Chapter 1
My eyes wandered around the poker table.
The dealer, a young man in his early twenties, had been fitted into a crisp white shirt and black silk waistcoat, his brown hair slicked back with too much gel. His dexterity as he shuffled the deck made me stare, before I went on to check the players.
Two women and three men. Three of them had skipped on the Gamblers Anonymous meetings—I could tell from their frayed nerves and shoulder-crushing guilt. It was written all over their faces. The other two, a man in his late twenties and a cute brunette who didn’t look a day older than twenty-three, struck me as the coolest cucumbers I’d seen all evening.
This was a steady gig I’d gotten my hands on, so I had to do a good job. Three months in, and I’d already gotten fifteen people banned for cheating and counting cards. It wasn’t an easy profession, though—for most people, anyway. It required a lot of psychology and the study of body language, along with excellent knowledge of the game itself. You had higher chances of success if you were a former cheater, preferably with some Vegas experience. But I had very little experience at all.
Then again, I wasn’t “most people.”
After betting, it was time for the “flop.” The dealer displayed three cards in the middle of the dark red velvet table—seven of clubs, queen of diamonds, and a five of spades—while we checked our “hole” hands again. I had nothing to use, but I bet anyway. The casino supplied my betting cash, so it didn’t matter if I lost. My prize came in the form of a generous percentage of the cheaters’ relinquished winnings if I caught colluders at the table, along with my hourly rate.
Texas Hold’em was a favorite game choice for collusion, and with the amount of money involved in tonight’s game, I knew I’d get some bold players this evening.
My instincts were pointing me to the “cucumber” couple. The other three were already sweating. One was clearly a veteran gambler, at least compared to the rest. With graying hair, salt-and-pepper stubble, and sweat stains on his peach-colored shirt, the man was nervously clicking two blue chips between his fingers as he stared at the three cards in view. He was going to fold soon.
I could feel it in my bones. There was nothing he could do with what he had in his hand, and what was on the table. With five crappy cards combined, and just two more to go with the “turn” and the “river,” he wasn’t feeling this round, at all. Sure, he had the gambling bug, but he’d probably lost enough over the years to know when to pic
k his battles.
He scoffed, and folded.
Hah, called it! Who’s a smart girl? You’re a smart girl, I mentally congratulated myself while my gaze wandered around the table. I was a smart girl. It was the only thing I’d learned from my father.
I flipped open my black satin clutch—which I’d matched with my dress—pretending to look for a tissue. I kept a small note in my card wallet. I pulled it out and examined it for a moment.
Harley, I am so sorry for doing this to you, but there is no other way. Stay safe. Stay smart. I love you. Dad.
That note was the only thing my parents had left me with, before dropping me off at the orphanage when I was three. I was bounced around from one foster home to another after that. It was rarely a pretty picture, and my father’s advice somehow helped me retain my sanity. Even now, as I glided into adulthood, I kept looking at that note for guidance, whenever a part of me wavered. As a foster kid, I always had to “stay safe” and “stay smart,” though the two rarely went hand in hand.
When the turn was dealt, I glanced around the poker table again.
Each of these people had their stories to tell. They had first names and last names, parents and grandparents, uncles and distant cousins, social security numbers and student loans. In my twisted view of the world, they existed, while I was just a visitor of sorts. Always on the outside, looking in.
I had no identity. Just a name on paper. I rented an apartment in Park West and pinpointed cheaters in casinos for a living. Nobody knew anything about me or my… special skills, and I was okay with that.
“I’ll raise you twenty,” the male cool cucumber said, looking at the equally chilled female across the table.
In the eyes of everyone else, they didn’t know each other. They were complete strangers exchanging pleasantries during a game of Texas Hold’em, where tens of thousands of dollars were at stake. But I could feel the physical attraction between them. The guy was head over heels in love with her. She was just as crazy about him. There was a familiarity between them, an intense emotion that they couldn’t hide from me. That was the downside of being an empath; I felt every emotion as if it were my own.
I basically had the hots for both of them, as if we’d been together for years. Ugh…
When the river was dealt, I could almost hear the guy’s heart thumping out of his chest. His excitement filled me to the brim, and, judging by the looks the couple exchanged briefly, unbeknownst to anyone else, they were ready to do some good old-fashioned whipsawing—raising and re-raising each other until they trapped another player in between.
And I knew exactly who their target was for this round. The other female, one of the compulsive gamblers. She was nervous, her eyes darting across the five cards now shown on the table: a seven of clubs, a queen of diamonds, a five of clubs, a jack of clubs and another queen, of hearts.
My hand was weak. All I could offer was a pair of fives. I folded, clicking my teeth.
“Maybe next time.” I smirked, then leaned back in my seat.
As expected, the cucumbers started teasing each other.
“I’m thinking it’s a good night,” the guy said, then tossed a few red chips on the pile gathering in the middle of the table. “Thirty.”
“Your overconfidence could be your weakness,” the girl said, grinning, and raised him another thirty, her tongue passing over her pearly white teeth. The tight, jade-colored dress she wore was meant to arouse, and based on what I was reading from the guy, she was getting the desired results.
I shifted in my chair, slightly uncomfortable with feeling someone else’s arousal, but stayed focused nonetheless. The girl’s outfit looked expensive. They weren’t here to play for pennies.
“I’m in,” the female gambler replied, tossing her own share of chips, worth thirty thousand dollars, while the fourth player folded, shaking his head.
The cucumbers seemed to ignore the woman, and continued taunting each other, while the dealer watched, amusement twinkling in his eyes.
“Raise you another thirty,” cucumber girl said, grinning, as the guy bit the inside of his cheek and added more chips to the pile.
“You’re bluffing,” he replied. “Thirty.”
The female compulsive gambler frowned, but the energy coming from her echoed confidence. She felt like she had a good hand. A really good hand. My guess was that it had something to do with the queens. She raised them another thirty, then narrowed her eyes at her own cards.
“I’m not bluffing,” the girl said. She raised an eyebrow and pushed forty thousand dollars’ worth of chips forward. “Raise.”
The guy scoffed, scratching the back of his neck as he contemplated his choices for a couple of seconds. The female gambler, on the other hand, had quickly sunk into despair. I realized then that maybe her hand wasn’t all that good. If I wanted to confirm collusion between the cucumbers, I needed the lady to fold so I could then watch the guy fold as well, and let the girl win. It seemed like the natural way for it to play out at that point.
“Okay, now I’m pissed,” the guy said, and raised her another twenty.
The female gambler cursed under her breath and folded, nervously counting the chips she had left, while the cucumbers pretended to glower at each other. It was getting a little too dramatic for my taste. Even a non-empath could tell they were slightly over the top.
“All in,” the girl challenged the guy, and pushed the rest of her chips into the middle, prompting the others to stare at her in disbelief.
The pot was somewhere over $350,000, and it was time for the guy to shake his head in disappointment, then fold. My fingers gripped the edge of the table, my nerves anticipating the moment I’d get my proof of collusion. I knew they were hot for each other in ways no two people meeting for the first time would ever be.
He tossed the cards, facedown, feigning irritation as he gulped down his drink, then motioned for a waiter to bring him another one.
Bingo!
Once they got away with this, they were going to get more brazen. I wanted them to dig themselves into a hole as deep as possible. The bigger their winnings at the end of the night, the bigger my prize.
I straightened my back as the dealer collected the cards and shuffled them, while the girl raked the mountain of chips over to her side of the table. She stacked them quickly into groups of $20,000, between sips of her fruity drink.
Personally, I looked forward to watching that smirk get wiped off at the end of the night.
It was time to get security to pay attention. I fiddled with my onyx earring, giving the head of security a brief sideways glance. Malcolm the bouncer stood at the end of the bar, ten yards away, pretending to chat with the bartender. He noticed my signal and discreetly brought a hand over his mouth, communicating a message through the tiny mic mounted into one of his cufflinks.
“It’s showtime,” the dealer said.
I shifted my focus back to our table as cards were dealt.
Oh, you have no idea.
Chapter 2
One by one, four of the ten security cameras in the room slowly turned and zoomed in on our table. For good reason, too. We were at the turn of another game, and the cucumbers were busy signaling each other.
Had it not been for the guy’s stretched nerves and my ability to sense them, the cheaters might have gotten away with it. A mixture of excitement and fear, guilt and desire rumbled through the couple, while the other three players were simply hopeful that their luck might turn around. I was getting a little angry at this point—it was bad enough that these people were struggling with an addiction. The cucumbers were literally preying on them while carrying out their little we’re-strangers-at-the-same-poker-table charade.
I folded, then homed in on the familiarity between them. They’d been doing this for years, and, when they thought no one was looking, I could see the longing in their stolen glances. They got off on these thrills.
The air changed. I couldn’t exactly describe it, but it felt dif
ferent, as if it were electrically supercharged. A rush of tingles tickled my spine, and I slowly turned my head to get a better look at the rest of the room. I’d yet to learn how to fully detach myself from what I was feeling as an empath, so I suspected that whatever anxiousness the cucumbers were experiencing, it had been passed on to me, too.
I settled on a pair of deep green eyes that belonged to a tall young man, maybe in his early twenties, who took a seat at one of the booths, just ten feet away from our table. His hair was dark brown, almost black, curled and unruly on the top, and smoothly shortened into a fade on the sides. He wore a navy-blue suit—elegant but a little casual—paired with a black shirt, its collar unbuttoned. His facial features were clear-cut, matching his equally sharp gaze.
The way he looked at me made my back automatically straighten itself. I wasn’t sure what that reaction was all about, but I quickly realized that he was responsible for the sudden flow of energy through the room. The intensity pressuring my shoulders and stomach seemed to radiate from within him.
A waitress came for his order, while my table got ready for the river. I caught a glimpse of the cucumbers signaling each other, before the girl folded. I had to give them credit: they were making an effort to be inconspicuous.
“Sparkling water with ice and lime, please,” the electric dude said.
I couldn’t help but turn my head to look at him again. His voice sounded like liquid velvet. And who the hell comes into a casino and orders water?
“Coming right up, sir,” the waitress replied.
“A lot of lime, please,” he added, then glanced at me.
Holding my breath, I shifted my focus back to the table. We were going into another round, after the cucumbers had just cleaned out the veteran gambler. He muttered a curse under his breath, then started walking over to the cashier at the other end of the room.
Hotbloods 8: Stargazers Page 45
