by Tena Stetler
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Praise for Tena Stetler
A Warlock’s Secrets
Copyright
Dedications
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Preview
Chapter One
A word from the author…
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Inside the house,
a shadow passed by the huge bay window. She held her breath. Am I really going to go through with this?
Walking up the steps to the house, she paused. Why would he leave such an expensive car sitting out when he had a four-car garage? She was stalling. Straightening her shoulders, she used the brass doorknocker. There was no answer. She knocked again.
The heavy oak door creaked open. Tristian stood shirtless, his abs rippled as he raised one muscular arm to lean on the doorframe. The skintight blue jeans hung low on his hips, and his hair tousled as if he’d not been awake long.
When he stared at her, with those huge blue-gray eyes, tingles careened up her spine. She covered her mouth in case drool pooled in the corners her mouth. He was one sexy male. She sucked in a breath and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
A brow arched, he peered questioningly at her then twisted to glance backward into the house. The sunlight streaming through the doorway accentuated several scars across his chest, rib area, and a healed slash across his back.
Who gets those kinds of battle scars and lives to tell the tale? Not going to ask. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. She shifted prepared to run down the stairs if things got weird.
The corner of his mouth curved up in an inviting sexy-as-hell grin. “Good morning, Hannah. What a surprise.”
Praise for Tena Stetler
Pre-review for A WARLOCK’S SECRETS:
“It is hard because now I have fallen for these characters too. I got wrapped up in the story so much that I forgot I was trying to take mental notes.”
~Lisa H.
~*~
“I totally enjoyed [A DEMON’S WITCH]…fun paranormal romance, with enough sizzle and suspense to keep those pages turning, rooting for that Happily Ever After.”
~Author Katie O’Sullivan
~*~
“Tena Stetler is a new author for me. What a nice surprise to discover a well written paranormal romance with a touch of fantasy. [A WITCH’S JOURNEY is] a story of witchcraft, dark secrets and second chances. This author nicely blended her two main characters with magic and romance to make it a fun read!”
~Books & Benches
~*~
A WITCH’S HOLIDAY WEDDING: “I had some doubts at first about the pairing of a witch and a werewolf, but author Tena Stetler makes it work! I had a lot of fun reading this unique paranormal story and seeing how they solve the problems that cropped up. This was a sweet and charming romance. I hadn’t read the first book in the series (A WITCH'S JOURNEY). That said, I’m now eager to get my hands on the first book!”
~Reviewer Ashia - Reading Alley
A Warlock’s Secrets
by
Tena Stetler
Demon’s Witch Series
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
A Warlock’s Secrets
COPYRIGHT © 2017 by Tena Stetler
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Kristian Norris
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Black Rose Edition, 2017
Print ISBN 978-1-5092-1446-4
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-1447-1
Demon’s Witch Series
Published in the United States of America
Dedications
To my family and friends for all their support.
To my husband
who brainstorms and proofs my books with me.
My publishing house, The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
and my fantastic editor Lill. You’re the best!
And my fellow authors at the Wild Rose,
who are always ready to lend a hand. What a team!
Last but not least, my wonderful readers—
I can’t thank you enough!
Chapter One
Sometimes Life Sucks Bad
Summer Solstice, Twenty Years Ago
He lay in the dark, unable to move his arms or legs. When he opened his mouth, no sound came out. Sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down his temple into his eyes, yet he couldn’t wipe it away. A crash, then terrified screams assaulted his senses. His dad’s voice drifted through Tristian’s mind, but he couldn’t make out the words.
A door slammed somewhere, and his eyes blinked open. A cylinder of filtered sunlight fell on the books spread open across his desk. He slowly raised an arm and relief flooded his consciousness. He bolted upright, staring into the rounded violet eyes of his little sister.
“Are you all right?” she asked her voice full of concern as she studied him.
He nodded slowly scanning the room. A nightmare, that’s what it was. It had to be. He didn’t have the talent of a seer like his mother. The precog abilities he’d inherited from his father were still developing but had never manifested in a dream.
His talents far exceeded the abilities of much of the Dragon Moon Coven, but he didn’t take anything for granted. He was the first born to Rachael Shandie, a powerful witch, who served as High Priestess of the Coven. His dad, Trent, equally talented, was considered High Priest, though he didn’t officially accept that position. His vocation within the magic realm was in direct conflict with the requirements of the coven. Something no one talked about, though not from Tristian’s lack of trying.
Raising a trembling hand, he brushed the blond hair from his eyes and grimaced. His pajamas wet with sweat stuck to his skin. The adrenalin subsiding from his body left him weak and shaky. He fell back against the pillows.
The argument last night with his father, regarding his vocation, must have manifested itself into the nightmare. That’s what it was, just a bad dream, nothing more. Still he couldn’t shake the foreboding feeling that knotted his stomach.
“Okay then. Aren’t you ever going to get up?” she said impatiently, hands on her hips, her tiny foot tapping on the hardwood floor. Her gaze shifted to the huge suitcase sitting in his doorway.
He narrowed his eyes and glared at her. “Aren’
t you supposed to knock?”
“Yeah, I did…but you were…something was… wrong. I could feel…”
“It was only a nightmare. I’m fine. Now get out of here,” he growled. The connection between him and his sister, Angelique, had always been strong, even though she was ten years younger.
“Can you help me get my suitcase to Willow’s house?” She flipped her long wavy blonde hair over her shoulder. “I’m temporality banned from using magic after yesterday’s fiasco.”
“And how’s that my problem? I’m not the one who sent the brand new blender flying out the kitchen’s bay window.” He snickered, feeling a bit more like himself. “It dug a hell of a hole in Dad’s garden. You’re lucky there were no mortals around.”
“There are never any mortals around up here.” She shot back. “It was a minor miscalculation.”
Tristian’s eyebrow shot up. “Sure it was. Now get out of here. I’ll bring the suitcase down in a minute.”
Quickly, he showered and dressed in black jeans, a burgundy pullover with black vertical stripes and black boots he’d polished to a gleam last night. Still more than a little irked that his sister chose to accompany her best friend’s family to Ireland for the summer solstice, rather than attend the coven’s ceremony today.
Home from college for summer break, today he’d be inducted into the Dragon’s Moon Coven as an adult member. Just a week after his twenty-second birthday, he looked forward to taking his place within in the coven with all benefits and responsibilities. A day that would be etched in his mind forever.
Footfalls pounded down the polished hardwood steps behind him and echoed through the family room with its vaulted ceilings. Angie, his twelve-year-old sister sprinted by him stopping only to yank open the door.
She tilted her head up to meet his gaze and smiled brightly. “Trist, they’re ready to leave.” Her face was flushed with excitement.
Tristian leaned his shoulder against the heavy wooden doorframe, ankles crossed, hands shoved in his jean pockets, and peered down at her. “Why would I help you, when you think so little of me that you won’t even attend the coven’s ceremony?”
“Aww, com’on Trist, you’ve been able to wield magic better than most the coven’s members since you were my age. Not that I can’t do the same,” she said brightly.
“Gee, humble aren’t you?” He sneered.
She shrugged. “Just the way it is, and you know it. But I’ve never been to Ireland. It’s going to be so exciting with all the faeries, witches…” She twirled around on one foot, arms swinging out to her sides, paused to beam up at him. “Oh, just everyone there. You really aren’t going to be mad at me, are you?” Her lilting voice wheedled, but her gaze was defiant, as usual.
Tristian blew out a breath and hugged his little sister. “Okay, Ang… This once I’ll forgive you for abandoning me. But if I am granted special magical knowledge at the ceremony, I’m not sharing with you.” A wave of foreboding washed over him, again. Was something going to happen to Angie? Not possible, Mom would be aware. Besides, she hadn’t appeared in his dream. Unless…the screams…were they hers? He shook his head shoving the ominous feeling to the back of his consciousness, for the moment.
Angie sucked in a breath as her violet eyes flew open wide. “Is that possible. Is that what the ceremony is for?” She narrowed her eyes, gave him a hard stare. “You’re just trying to get me to stay. Won’t work.” Angie sing-songed.
“I guess you’ll have to carry your own luggage then.” Tristian shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Fine.” Angie surveyed the area quickly, raised her fingers toward the suitcase, and snapped. It disappeared. She giggled and raced out the front door, skidded to a stop, then ran back smacked a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t tell, please,” she pleaded.
Tristian grabbed his little sister by the collar and thrust a charmed, gold four-leaf clover in her hand. “For luck.”
She closed her fingers around the charm and grinned up at him. “Thanks.” She plucked a purple ribbon out of thin air and tied the charm around her neck. Grinning, she whirled around and barreled across the lawn to her best friend’s house where her suitcase sat next to the front door.
He sighed. She has no regard for the rules of magic, yet. The knot tightened in his stomach. A harbinger of something yet to come?
“Ready?” His father, dressed in black slacks and a light copper shirt with black stripes, asked sprinting down the stairs.
“I am.” His mom, Rachel’s musical voice floated through the family room before she appeared in a light blue linen skirt and flowered top.
“You’re driving.” His father tossed the keys to Tristian then wrapped an arm around Rachael.
“Thanks.” He reached one long arm up, snatched the keys out of the air, and strode out of the house to the sleek sedan. Equipped with a powerful engine, the vehicle was a dream to drive. When he fobbed the car door open, a taxi screeched to a halt next door and blared its horn. Willow’s family along with Angie rushed from the house and climbed in the cab.
As the taxi pulled away, she rolled the car window down and waved wildly. “See you soon! Good Luck!”
Tristian waved back and slid into the car, started the engine. His parents sauntered through the front door, closed and locked it. After they all settled into the car and left the city limits, Tristian glanced over at his father. “So Dad, about your job.”
“Don’t start.” His father ground out, the lines around his eyes more pronounced, and he looked more tired than usual.
His mom glanced up from the paperwork in her lap. “Trent, it’s probably time to…”
“No. End of discussion.” His father’s mouth set in a thin line, the jaw muscle twitched continuously.
Lips pursed, his mother returned her attention to the paperwork. Tristian wanted to scream. As he’d grown older, the worry in his mother’s eyes, the midnight calls, his father missing in the morning all concerned him.
She’d confided in him that his father’s profession was dangerous but absolutely necessary to keep the family and otherworldly creatures safe inside and out of the mortal world. His chest tightened, and his anxiety ratcheted up another notch. He was never prone to anxiety attacks, even during finals, always breezing through. Academics were never a problem. In fact, he was up for valedictorian of his class. After graduation, it was off to Harvard medical school.
His father’s professional life never crossed paths with their family life. But Tristian couldn’t help but wonder if one day the two might collide with disastrous consequences. Would the powerful protection spells his mom and dad cast over their home be enough to keep the family out of harm’s way? I gotta quit thinking like this. He didn’t understand why these thoughts kept bubbling to the surface; he slowed and coasted into a parking space.
“We’re here,” Rachel sang out, jerking Tristian out of his thoughts.
The family walked up the stone path to the huge log building, with a finely trimmed lawn, and well-kept gardens, his mother hung back and touched his shoulder. “Is something wrong?” she asked quietly, eying the group of elders quickly descending on them.
“I was going to ask you the same thing.” Tristian held his mother’s gaze.
She looked puzzled. “Why? Everything is fine.” She smiled and turned her attention to the advisors.
He glanced from her to the group and shook his head, pasting a smile on his face. “Nope, just lost in thought.”
“Your sister didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
He gestured dismissively with his hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a great opportunity for her. I understand. I’m certainly not a child anymore. But I couldn’t let her off scott free. It’s against the big brother creed.”
“Oh, I know you’re not a child. But this is your day to celebrate. Don’t let whatever is on your mind spoil it.” She paused as Trent turned and motioned them to hurry. “Let the celebrations begin.”
He caught her sl
eeve. “Mom, I’ve got a bad feeling. Something weird happened this morning and…” He paused, something disconcerting flickered through her eyes, then it was gone. Or was it his imagination?
She studied him for a beat. “Oh, it’s probably just nerves.” Then she squeezed his arm. “Don’t worry about it.”
A group of Tristian’s friends rushed up slapping him on the back and urging him into the building. When he looked back, his mom and dad were embroiled in a heated conversation with the coven elders. Gee, nothing new there.
As he was whisked away with his friends, he tucked all serious thoughts out of his mind for now but couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that something wasn’t right.
He caught sight of Corra, a girl he’d been seeing recently and sauntered over to talk to her.
Her beautiful blue eyes brightened at his approach. “I have to run down to the basement to get plates, cups, and the ceremonial bowl.” She batted her long black lashes at him, flipped her sleek raven hair over her shoulder, and raised a dark eyebrow with a mischievous grin. “Want to help?”
Glancing over his shoulder at his buddies, he winked and nodded toward Corra. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. He slipped his hand around her waist. “Sure.” Any opportunity to get her alone, he’d take.
At the bottom of the stairs, Tristian conjured a huge sparkling ball of light, tossed it into the air illuminating the entire basement area.
“You’re showing off. We’re not supposed to use magic frivolously.” She fisted her hands on her hips. “Tristian Shandie.”
He shrugged as she reached for the light switch on the wall and flipped it. Nothing happened.
“Guess we’ll need my magic light after all.” He smirked.
They walked to the wooden shelves on the far wall. The hair on the back of Tristian’s neck stood up, a shiver shot up his spine as his mind’s eye opened. His parents stood in the doorway to the kitchen upstairs. The scene played out in front of him as a loud explosion outside the lodge sent debris in every direction. A large piece of metal drove straight through the door and stuck there. Members of the coven visiting in small groups inside the lodge scattered and threw up protection spells. Tristian shielded Corra with his body, bringing her to the floor.
