Mystic Realms: A Limited Edition Collection

by Nicole Morgan

  Only then did I realize how badly injured I was. Layers of burnt flesh sizzled in the salty water and slid from my arms. I opened my mouth to scream in agony but no sound came out. My vision went black as I sank below the surface. My last thought as I drifted deeper into my watery grave was of Grace.

  My love. My wife.

  Olga

  One hour earlier

  I leaned on the balcony of my penthouse suite, overlooking The Body Park with its vast strands of white beaches, endless copses of palms, and meticulously sculpted gardens and mazes. The resort buildings, like the one I lived in, had been carefully constructed to blend in to the island retreat as well, with their white stone and glass; whereas the surgical center and cabanas further inland boasted earthier tones. Even the airstrip running alongside the beach blended into its environment with white paved lanes framed by medians aflame with exotic blooms.

  I reminded myself for the trillionth time how lucky I was to have met Stellan Romolov and Ivan Petrov six months ago. They were vampires, best friends, and by far the best thing that had ever happened to me. Even though I wasn't a vampire, they had given me a home on their island. We had become our own coven of sorts. A coven of three, which suited me to perfection after defecting from an oversized, over-policed family of white witches.

  They allowed me to freely practice my craft on their island, even welcoming me into their top-secret business venture.

  I gazed over it now, thrilled at the latest feature we'd installed a few weeks ago. Cleverly concealed fog machines in the surrounding hills and foliage pumped thousands of gallons of billowing mist and haze daily over the park, making it a safe place for vampires to live and work.

  Most importantly, it gave the owners, the two men I loved most, a place to live and work. Earning their eternal gratitude, I had added another, even more powerful measure of protection to The Body Park. I'd used my magic to add a cloaking spell to the entire island. Now it was hidden from the view of satellites, airplanes, and submarines passing above and below us respectively. The island was also wholly hidden from dangerous vampires like Stellan's uncle who (thanks to me) bore a grudge against his nephew the size of Texas for weaseling his way out of their maker bond.

  The only wrinkle in my happiness was the triangle of emotions fizzling between Stellan, Ivan, and me. Ivan adored me in the most pathetic, lost puppy dog sort of way. I wanted to be with Stellan, and Stellan was . . . well . . . Stellan. He kept his emotions in check, his opinions to himself, and was currently dating a human named Grace. A human! Some fragile, lonely teen who'd just graduated high school, recently lost her mother to cancer, and dreamed of opening her own dance studio.

  It was too laughable to be offensive. There was no way he preferred a weak, disease-prone mortal to me. Part of me wondered if he was playing a long game, dating her only to make me jealous. He knew I thrived on challenges. My bigger worry was he was holding off making any moves in my direction because of his close friendship with Ivan. Guys could be like that sometimes, especially the good guys. By refusing to touch me, Stellan was respecting what he perceived to be Ivan's territory or some such nonsense. Their old-fashioned honor code was about to drive my out of my mind with frustration!

  Ivan materialized below my balcony so suddenly he made me jump. "Morning, beautiful!" His perfect white teeth caught a hazy ray of sunlight as he flashed a smile in my direction.

  I hated it when he used his vampire stealth to sneak up on me like that. I resisted the urge to make a face at him and raised my hand in a casual wave.

  In a dark blur of inhuman speed and agility, he leaped three stories to join me on my balcony.

  I took a few steps back to put some distance between us, lounging against the open doorway to my bedroom. I arched my back a little to ensure my curves were displayed to their best advantage. My fiery orange one-piece pantsuit was a custom ensemble with a sleeveless top and panels cut out on both sides to reveal my abs.

  He hiked one black trouser-clad hip on my glass balcony railing and crossed his arms. He was wearing one of his signature suits — dark weave, expensive cut. This morning he'd paired it with a smoky blue dress shirt and silver-toned cuff links. He was gorgeous enough to make a girl's mouth water. Or would have if my heart didn't already belong to another.

  He turned the full effect of his dark, penetrating gaze on me. I resisted the urge to squirm at the way he had of making me feel he could see right through me, all the way to my soul and back again.

  Adoration lit his dark features as he studied me.

  "Like what you see?" I sniped at him, irritable for no accountable reason. Ivan put me off balance, plain and simple, and I didn't like it.

  "Always." His dark eyes took on a smoky hue. "What magic are you broiling this fine morning, witch?"

  I held up my hands and wiggled my freshly lacquered fingernails at him. They were the same fiery orange as my pantsuit. "None yet. I'm letting my mani-pedi dry."

  He glanced down at my bare feet as if for confirmation. I felt the caress of his gaze as strongly as if he'd bent to kiss my toes. It was unnerving the way he could do that to me.

  "What do you want?" I demanded.

  He moved away from the balcony so quickly I had no time to evade him. He towered over me, one hand resting on the doorframe above my head. "From the lovely Olga Van de Berg? Everything." His deep voice was hushed and full of promise as his cool breath grazed my right ear.

  Before I could collect my emotions he'd done a thorough job of scattering, he stepped back and put his hands in his pockets. A cheerful whistle escaped his perfectly formed lips. "But for now, beautiful, I'd happily settle for a peek into your crystal ball." The caressing lilt left his voice, and he turned coldly serious. "I just received a text message from Stellan saying—"

  "Unless you're about to tell me his trip to Ireland was a bust, save your breath," I cut in. "I'm not interested in hearing about his latest escapades with his human play toy. Their whole relationship is a bad idea, and you know it."

  "However true that might be . . ." Ivan agreed slowly, "they eloped to Denmark, so his relationship with Grace is now very much your and my concern."

  "They what?" I inquired faintly and lapsed into paralyzed silence. Numbness settled in the center of my chest and radiated outward. Stellan was married. To a human! Which meant he was finally taken, spoken for, out of my reach, gone for good.

  Unless Ivan wasn't serious . . . I anxiously scanned his features. They wavered a few seconds. I had to blink a few times to make them settle into their usual carefully defined lines. He was wearing what I called his grim and calculating look. Apparently it came with the titles of Chief of Security and Chief Strategist for The Body Park, because he wore that look often on the job.

  In this case, it meant he wasn't kidding about the news that Stellan was married. It also meant he was no more thrilled about the news than I was. Not for the same reasons, of course. It only bothered him that Stellan had married a human and all the complications that would entail.

  "How long have you known?" I spat, steeling my heart against the look of pain that briefly wafted over Ivan's dark features. He knew how I felt about Stellan, how I'd always felt about Stellan. It wasn't as if I'd tried to hide my feelings from either of them.

  "About a minute," he returned evenly. "I am as surprised as you. I knew they were dating, but this . . ." He shook his head gravely. "This news was unexpected."

  I swiveled around and slammed into my room, not caring that ice blue fire shot from my fingertips and shattered the glass door when I stormed past it. "He'll ruin everything if he brings her here," I cried. "Everything we've worked so hard to build." I never imagined Stellan would take his little fling with Grace so far. It was careless and ill advised! Why couldn't he see that?

  "I should have broken his maker bond with Anatoly," I raged. "If I hadn't, he never would have risked doing something so stupid, stupid, stupid!" I reached for my crystal lamp on the nightstand and flung it across the roo
m. It crashed and splintered against my dresser mirror. The mirror transformed into a spidery web of shards. I raised my hand to sweep my collection of perfume bottles to the floor next, when Ivan's strong fingers closed around my wrist.

  "Don't." His voice was calm and steady, which only made me angrier.

  Completely out of control, I whirled in his direction with sparks shooting unchecked from both hands.

  He flinched in pain as the spray of fire singed the sleeve of his precious suit, yet he maintained his hold on my wrist. "Look at me, Olga," he commanded in his best mesmerizing voice, which was a waste of effort since those kinds of vampire tricks didn't work on witches. "I'm as worried about Stellan as you are. Elopements are generally considered impulsive and unwise. In Stellan's case, it's certainly out of character."

  He continued to speak to me in his calm, soothing voice even after his sleeve caught on fire. I could no longer make any sense of what he was saying, but I allowed his gaze to hold mine. At some point, the fact that his face was utterly contorted with agony sank into my frenzied mind.

  I stumbled back from him. "Nolite ignis!" It was Latin for stop fire. I brushed my hands over the arm of his burning suit. "Nolite ignis. So mote it be." What have I done? "Please, blessed mother," I added in a terrified whisper and stared at him in horror.

  "It's okay, Olga."

  But it wasn't. His voice was laced with the pain I'd caused him.

  "I'm so sorry, Van. So, so sorry!" My words dwindled to an inadequate silence. What I'd done to him was unpardonable. He had every right to throw me out of The Body Park right here and now. For good.

  "It's okay. I forgive you." His voice grew stronger as his regeneration power kicked in. The badly puckered pink and red blisters on his forearm visibly flattened and smoothed to re-form rich, mocha-dark skin. The sleeve of his suit was a different story. It flapped against his freshly healed arm in smoky tatters.

  "I don't deserve your forgiveness," I murmured brokenly, not ready to forgive myself for allowing him to get caught in the crossfire of my anger. Literally.

  "Of course, you do." He reached for my face and cradled my cheek. "You acted like a woman in love is all."

  The pain was back in his voice, and my heart ached for what he wanted to say but couldn't. He clearly thought I was in love with the wrong man.

  Only when the pads of his thumbs brushed the sensitive skin beneath my eyes did I realize I was crying. Could this morning get any worse? I'd destroyed my bedroom, incinerated my dearest friend in the world, and now I was ruining a makeup job that had taken nearly an hour to paint on.

  "I know this isn't what you want right now, but—" Ivan lowered his head and sealed his cool lips over mine in a tender kiss.

  He tasted of longing, desire, and starlit nights. And he'd been wrong. This kind of kiss was exactly what I needed right now to calm my shattered psyche. Unfortunately, his kiss ended as abruptly as it began.

  Ivan raised his head. "Feel better now?"

  I nodded, all limp and shaky on the inside, and trailed a hand lingeringly down his previously burned arm. "Mente unoque consilio," I said softly. "So mote it be." The damaged ends of the fabric with its frayed threads curled and spread across his skin. The parts that had disintegrated in the fire reappeared and wove themselves into a sleeve.

  "Thank you. I've always liked this suit." He stretched out his arm, titling it experimentally first in one direction then the other to admire my work. "Now for the rest of the reason behind my early morning visit to you." His tone converted to one that was all business.

  I stared at him, lips parted at his abrupt change of conversation. There was more? What could be worse than finding out Stellan was married?

  "Stellan also mentioned in his text he was heading up harbor to ship something for his uncle."

  "But why?" I'd broken the maker bond between them at a great risk to us all. "It seems to me he should be staying away from Anatoly, not turning favors for him."

  "My concerns exactly." A frown etched three deep crevices in Ivan's brow. "I was hoping you would peek into your crystal ball and make sure our help isn't needed."

  I was already fixing my damaged room, arms outstretched and lips moving with the words of a healing spell. I couldn't think straight when things were a mess around me. "Okay." I spun back to Ivan who was watching me with a bemused twitch to his lips. "What?" I demanded.

  He grinned. "I always enjoy watching you do your witchy thing."

  Whatever. I rolled my eyes at him before closing them. It took total concentration for me to transport myself to the harbor. I absorbed the power of all the elements surrounding me on the island — air, land, water, and fire — and channeled them to form a vision.

  The rolling waters of the harbor appeared first. The unfurled sails of the SS Majestic rose into view next. I frowned and bit my lower lip at the scene taking place on deck. Stellan was dragging a young vampire in a sailing uniform to the railing and holding a silver pen over his eyeball.

  "It's too late," the creature babbled. "For all of us. It was a suicide mission to begin with—"

  Before he could finish his sentence, Stellan threw him across the deck and sprinted to the helm to bellow an evacuation warning over the speaker system, but it was too late.

  "No!" My violent reaction to what I saw yanked me from the webs of my vision. Panic constricted my throat, making it hard to speak.

  Ivan reached for my hands. "What's wrong?" He sounded as frantic as I felt.

  "Something just detonated on Stellan's ship. A bomb, I think. I saw him dive over the side. Then there was a second explosion. You have to go to him. Now!"

  My hands remained outstretched, fingers curled around his, but I was holding nothing but air. Ivan was already gone. Choking on the billows of panic rising in my throat, I scrambled to regain my focus but I was too upset to do it clearly. All I could see was snatches of scenes fading in and out of focus.

  Ivan swimming like mad through the harbor waters. Stellan's badly burned body bobbing along its salty waves. Stellan's body sinking beneath the surface.

  "Please, no!" At that point, I could no longer see anything. I was a prisoner of my own fears, far beyond the reaches of magic. There was nothing more I could do but hope and pray Ivan would reach our friend before it was too late.

  Grace

  Ramstein AFB, Germany

  "I'm calling Bax." Rubbing her swollen eyelids, Antjie dialed my father. Either he picked up on the first ring or it went straight to voicemail, because she started talking right away.

  "Um . . . Colonel Livingston? This is Antjie Graf. I don't know if you've been watching the news, but Grace is not in a good place right now. If at all possible, you . . ." She drew a shuddering breath. "You need to come home."

  Antjie refused to leave my side until Bax arrived. Her mother brought over food for both of us. I thanked her, but I couldn't choke down a single bite. I didn't feel like talking, and I couldn't sleep. I stayed glued to the television in the hopes of seeing or hearing something, anything that would give me a reason to hope again. But no good news was forthcoming. Three badly burned bodies were recovered from the wreckage along with a sizable chunk of the hull. None of the bodies had yet been identified. I braced myself for the worst.

  Bax slammed into the house in a little over ten hours. Antjie met him at the door. They stood there talking quietly for several minutes. Then he hugged her briefly and turned to face me.

  "We have to go, Gracie." Dark shadows were chiseled beneath his eyes, and his clothes were wrinkled. He was in jeans, combat boots, and another one of his goofy button-up shirts though my blurry eyes couldn't determine which one he wore this time.

  "Go where?" I asked piteously, reluctant to leave the television screen for even a bathroom break. I was sitting cross-legged in front of it on the floor, the remote clasped tightly in my hands.

  "You need to pack, princess. We're heading stateside."

  I returned my bloodshot gaze to his. "Now? Why?"
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  "Right now, princess."

  Okay. I responded mechanically. Bax had always had that effect on me. He spoke; I jumped. Or in this case, I tried to stand, lost my balance, and toppled over.

  Antjie cried out. She and Bax lunged for me at the same time. Bax reached me first and helped lower me to the floor. He held the back of his hand to my forehead and pressed a thumb to my wrist to check my pulse. He frowned and flicked a finger against the veins on the underside of my arm.

  "She's dehydrated." He turned his accusing gaze to Antjie.

  "I know. I tried," she groaned. "I told you she was in a bad way. We've not been able to get her to eat or drink anything since . . . er . . ." She nodded at the television.

  He was already jogging to the kitchen. He returned with a sports bottle full of ice water. He removed the remote control from my hands and replaced it with the water bottle. "Drink!" he ordered.

  I tried to but ended up choking and spluttering my way through my first attempt at swallowing. It was as if my throat was sealed shut. "I'm sorry." I coughed, cleared my throat, and tried again.

  Bax paled as he watched me struggle. "Keep trying, Gracie," he pleaded.

  Antjie started to cry. I'd never seen her look so lost and helpless before. "Maybe we should take her to the hospital."