Magical Acts
(Skeleton Key)
Michele Bardsley
Contents
Copyright
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Skeleton Key Series
About the Author
Also by Michele Bardsley
Copyright © 2016 by Michele Bardsley
All rights reserved.
No part of this boxed set may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement from the author of this work.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatever to anyone bearing the same name or names. All incidents are pure invention. These stories are meant for mature audiences who are eighteen years and older.
Created with Vellum
Prologue
Barrows Flat
Another World
At the tender age of twenty-one, Auron Tarlett fell in love.
As he caressed the luscious body of Chamomile, he inhaled her perfumed skin and tasted her satin lips. Her experienced, slim hands slid up his chest, her body writhing under his touch. His touch!
Tonight, he would give her his heart.
He cupped the most intimate part of her, sliding his finger between the folds of slick flesh. Auron remembered Chamomile’s lessons well. Stroke me as you would the petal of a rare flower. Moaning, she grazed her teeth along his shoulder.
“Yes,” she said, “oh yes.”
Sweat dewed her pale skin; he licked the tiny droplets, drawing patterns in her pale flesh with his tongue. Slowly, he worshiped her, kissing and touching until Chamomile shuddered beneath him.
Auron nipped the firm skin above her pubic bone. Only a thin strip of blonde hair covered her most intimate part. He breathed onto the glistening mound, knowing she liked the warm whoosh of air. Her hands fisted in the covers, and she looked at him, her jade-green eyes filled with passion.
A woman enjoys a man’s mouth on her. When you taste me, act as though you are partaking of the sweetest nectar. Do not delve between my thighs like a hungry man at a feast. Be gentle. Soft. Slow. Suckle. Lick. Tease.
He knelt between her legs and parted her trembling thighs. He swept his thumbs along the swollen outer petals of her flesh. Hmm. She felt so soft, and she was so wet with her need for him. Happiness wound through him, tempering his lust. Oh, to spend every evening with his lady this way—showing her with word and deed how much he loved her. And she would do the same for him.
He slid his hands under her buttocks and pulled her close, inhaling her earthy and intoxicating scent. He tugged the little hidden pearl between his lips and then suckled. Gods! She was as juicy as a ripe berry.
“I taught you too well,” she said in a hoarse voice. Her fingers plundered his hair then clamped onto his skull and pressed him against her wet, swollen sex. “Oh, Auron!”
Pleased that he had inspired such ardor, Auron flicked his tongue over and over on that knot of sweet flesh. Chamomile cried out, her hips lifting as her orgasm claimed her.
He soothed her with long strokes, sipping from her feminine honey. Her hands were still wrapped in his hair holding him hostage when she collapsed to the bed. He bent low and rubbed his face against the coverlet. He loved her juices, loved the smell, the taste. He loved her. All of her.
She pulled at his shoulders, her smile one of feminine satisfaction.
“Come here, lover,” she purred, drawing him up her body.
He positioned himself above her. She guided him to her entrance. He pushed inside, shuddering at the tight, slick feel of her. One stroke made him dizzy with pleasure. Trembling, he sucked in a breath. He kissed her neck, trying to stall his own release.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered. Her green eyes seemed filled with love and devotion. Some had compared Chamomile’s eyes to emeralds—hard and cold. But Auron had always thought her gaze soft as the summer fields in the Barrows. “Take me, Auron.” Her lyrical voice flowed over him. “Take me!”
Tears of the Goddess! Another stroke sent more pleasure rippling through him. She pulled him close, grasping with hungry hands; her body arched against him and he let go of restraint, thrusting harder and faster. Chamomile moved her hips against his, her hands sliding to grasp his buttocks. “More,” she whispered in his ear, her breath feathering his lobe. “More.”
He let go then, matching her frantic movements with more gusto than grace. She met his every thrust, matched his every moan, and then she dug her nails into his buttocks and gasped.
The pulsations of her orgasm tugged at his cock, and he went over, crying out her name as he filled her with his seed.
After a moment, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her cheek.
She yawned then pushed at his shoulders until he released her. “Goddess, it’s a shame.”
Auron stared at her. “What do you mean? A shame?”
She swung her legs off the bed then looked at him over one pale shoulder. “Because you’ll forget me. You’ll marry someone worthy of your heart.”
“You are worthy of my heart.”
She shook her head, rising to slip on a robe and to bind her hair. “I know my place. I’m a commoner. You’re the only son of the Barrows Flat mages.”
She loves me. She doesn’t think I love her. Excited, Auron bounded off the bed. He would prove his love to the beautiful Chamomile. After pulling on his black pants, he dug into the pocket of his tunic, which still lay on the floor. He skirted the bed and took Chamomile’s hand into his. “I love you. Will you marry me?”
The ring was pure silver and held a large sapphire. The deep blue stone represented the magic wielded by the Tarlett mages. Such gems were rare, and it had taken him some time to find this one. The magic in the stones had to be tamed and then mastered. Crafting the gem was not an easy task. During their courtship, Auron’s father had given his mother a similar ring. To this day, they loved and honored each other. And that was what he wanted for himself and Chamomile—a life of love.
“You want me to marry you?”
Auron nodded, and Chamomile smiled. “Do you offer me your heart, Auron?”
“Yes.”
The room filled with black smoke. Coughing, he waved away the pungent fumes that reeked of dark magic. Chamomile’s hand slipped from his. When the cloud dissipated, he was facing not Chamomile, but another woman. The years had not been kind to her. Her body was thin and bony. Her blonde hair was streaked with gray, and her face was a mask of bitterness, the lines mapping every disappointment. But it was her eyes that shocked him the most. The green orbs were filled with hatred.
“You’ve given me your heart,” she said in a gravelly voice.
The evil glee infused in those words sent Auron’s stomach plummeting to his toes.
“What have you done to Chamomile?”
“She doesn’t exist, you silly fool. Twenty-five years! A long time to get revenge. Gave me time to plan, to plot. To cast the right spells. I lost everything, you know. All because of your mother. She took the mage who was once mine.”
Auron felt horror claw at his belly
and crowd his throat. “You hate my parents?”
“To the depths of my soul. But killing them is impossible. The Goddess granted immortality to the Tarlett mages and their mates. Bah!” She shuffled to the bed and sat down. “You have the same blood, the same protection. Can’t kill you, either, can I? But I can bespell you. And doing so will cause unbearable pain to your parents.”
She cackled. Her furious triumph was a sword plunged into his belly.
Auron’s feet felt glued to the floor. He couldn’t move his legs at all. The old woman watched him, her thin lips pulling into a sneer. “Don’t bother trying to leave. The spell is cast. You are cursed, and your heart is mine.”
His parents appeared in a flash of blue smoke. His father looked the same as he always did, tall, imposing, his long black hair secured by a leather strap. His dark blue gaze flashed with anger. “Relinquish my son.”
“No.” The old woman’s gaze fell onto the small, brown-haired woman next to Nath Tarlett. “Vile woman! You don’t deserve him. Nor do you deserve the life you stole from me.” Tears rolled off Rin’s cheeks. “You have everything. And I have nothing.”
“You made your choices,” said Malie. She looked at Auron. “Are you all right?”
Auron felt completely frozen now. His body wouldn’t move—not even his mouth. He gazed at his mother, panic burbling. Help me! Please!
“What have you done to him?” demanded Nath. He grasped Auron’s shoulder, but Auron couldn’t feel the warmth or pressure of his Dad’s hand. His gaze found his mother’s. I’m sorry, he tried to convey. I love you both.
Rin lifted her hand. On her palm glittered the ring Auron had offered Chamomile. Pale blue light pulsed around it, and when it faded, the ring had an ethereal glow. “The essence of Auron’s heart remains within his token of love.”
Nath sent a beam of sapphire light toward the ring, but it merely bounced off.
“You can’t take it or destroy it,” said Rin. She closed her fist over the ring and grinned. “Without his heart, he’s turning to stone. And stone he will remain for all of his days.”
“No!” cried Malie. She lifted her hands, and blue magic whirled, hardening into a crystalline dagger.
Rin stood and walked to Malie, her eyes blazing with malice. “Go ahead. My death will not end the curse.”
“Harm none,” whispered Malie. She looked at her son and wept. “That is every mage’s oath.” The dagger clattered to the marble floor. Auron watched his mother drop to her knees. He couldn’t form tears or words. How sorry he was to have brought his parents to this horror.
“Please, Rin. Release my son. I will take his place.” Nath knelt next to his wife and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Am I not the one you want to harm? Take me. I honor my wife’s pledge and my son’s sacrifice.”
Rin crowed in triumphant.
Then the room glowed brightly, so brightly that Auron could not see anything but the soft, golden light.
“No mage shall harm those who are in my favor,” said the most beautiful voice Auron had ever heard. “The Tarlett mages are under my protection.”
“The curse cannot be broken, Goddess!” Rin shouted angrily.
Auron strained to see, but his vision was blackening. And his hearing was fading, too. He’d lost all sensation in his body and had stopped trying to move. He couldn’t even feel the beat of his own heart anymore. The golden light wrapped around him, as comforting as his mother’s arms.
“I cannot undo what has been wrought, but I am not without recourse. Auron Tarlett will not be a statue forever. Every year on the night of the three moons, he shall wake and seek the one who will end his curse. She will be as pure of body as she is of heart.”
“And if he does not find anyone?” asked Malie in a broken whisper. “And what of us, his parents? Through your divinity, we are immortal. I cannot bear knowing my son is trapped and alone for eternity while I live.”
“The Goddess placed her hand on Malie’s bowed head. “You and your beloved shall sleep until Auron’s curse is broken. If he is not freed within one hundred years, I will escort you all to the next world.”
“Thank you, Goddess.” Auron barely heard his father’s words.
A few seconds later, the mage without his heart was nothing but stone.
The Goddess watched as her servants brought the statue of Auron into the Tarlett castle. To protect him, she put his stone effigy in a secret room accessed through a panel in the main study. Auron would know how to leave it. He’d been using it as a hiding spot since he was a boy.
After her servants had moved back into the study, she entered the small room and cupped Auron’s cold, stone cheeks. “Dear boy, I won’t let Rin ruin your life. She’s hidden herself from me. No doubt a wise move because my fury is such that I would break my own laws and kill her.” She kissed his brow. “Do not despair. I will help you find your mate.” She leaned forward and whispered, “The night will bring you power. If you remain strong in your faith and your magic, you may well be able to use it even in this form.”
She left and placed her palm on the wood panel designed to look like a piece of art. The door swung shut and blended into the black granite wall.
Dismissing her servants, she walked up the stairs and to the bedroom of Nath and Malie Tarlett. Both lay in their bed clasped in each other’s arms. At least their minds and bodies would be at rest while Auron remained cursed. She pulled the thick coverlet over them. When she left, she closed the door and put a spell on the door. None would enter. The door would only be opened from the inside—when Nath and Malie left of their own accord.
Her heart aching for her beloved ones, the Goddess exited the castle. Looking up at the dark purple sky with its one bright moon, she knew a powerful spell was needed to help the Tarletts.
Let the story of Auron reach the heart of his mate. Let the glow of her love transform his fate.
The Goddess’ gold eyes blazed as the spell was cast and she lifted her arm, sending both fervent wish and powerful magic into the sky—and into whatever worlds lay beyond.
Chapter 1
Los Angeles, California
Earth
“Do I have to fire you?”
Natalie Clark stopped tapping numbers into the computer and looked at her stepsister, Eliana Montgomery, head honcho of the Pamper Palace, the West Coast’s premiere spa. In California, where spas were as numerous as Paris Hilton’s sex tapes, being booked six months in advance was no small feat.
Thin, blond, and gorgeous, Eliana was the spa’s best advertisement. She leaned casually against the desk. She and Natalie were the same height, five feet, five inches, and yet Eliana always looked taller. Natalie’s sis never had a bad hair day. Her body had no flaws—no fat, no scars, no pimples.
Natalie had all the above. Her curly hair could never be tamed, her eyes were the color of dirt, and—due to a childhood accident—she had a scar that curved from the top of her right cheek to her eye. To top off the injustice, she fought a war against acne every day, and nearly always lost.
“Hel-lo, Natalie?”
“Can’t you fire me tomorrow?” It was a joke between her and Eliana, who constantly threatened Natalie for working too hard.
Eliana rolled her eyes. “How long have you been in this office?”
“All morning.”
“And for the last two days, you’ve been stuffed back here like a cave dweller.”
“Quarterly reports are a bitch.”
“So am I.”
No, you aren’t. Natalie sighed. Eliana was genuinely nice, which made it really damned hard to hate her beauty and golden-touch success. She was Natalie’s only family, even though the unfortunate marriage between her father and Eliana’s mother only lasted a mere three years. Her father’s death had left Natalie in financial hell. The bank took Dad’s house, the finance company reclaimed his battered Ford truck, and the credit card company stuck Natalie with the ten grand her father had spent. She really should’ve known
better than to open that account and give her Dad “an emergency” credit card. For Richard Clark, everything was an emergency.
Eliana had hired her as the spa’s accountant despite the fact Natalie had been unable to finish her degree. The salary was overly generous—Eliana had given her the help she so desperately needed without making her a charity case.
“You haven’t gone out with me in a while,” said Eliana. Her rosebud lips dipped into a pout. “How about attending the opening of Hot Pepper this weekend?”
“Is that a restaurant?”
“No, it’s a new dance club.”
“I’d rather fall into a pit of spikes.”
“Oh, c’mon. Opening night will be outstanding. You get to dress in something shiny and drink champagne. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
“Not as fun as dying slowly on a sharp piece of metal,” said Natalie. “Of course, if I sorta aim when I jump into the pit, one spike could pierce my heart.” She pressed her hands against her chest and widened her gaze. “Gaaaaaaaah.”
“Way to be melodramatic.” Eliana leaned forward and handed Natalie her platinum credit card. “I’m pulling out the boss card and pummeling you with it. I, hereby, order you to take my credit card and slack off. Go shopping. Buy something outrageous and useless. Do not come back here until tomorrow.”
“I still have a lot of work to do,” said Natalie.
“I don’t care. Take the card and go away.”
Natalie followed the waitress to the outdoor patio. She settled into a black plastic chair and put her bag underneath it. The white umbrella shaded her from the sunshine. She ordered a sandwich, French onion soup, and a chai tea.
Since it was after the lunch rush, the place was nearly empty. In the opposite corner, a couple enjoyed coffee and dessert. The man said something, and the woman laughed. She reached across the table to touch his hand.
Magical Acts: (Skeleton Key) Page 1
