Forbidden Magic

by Genia Avers

  Another roar claimed Subena’s attention. Remington rushed through the tunnel, bellowing a battle cry. A bevy of soldiers flanked him.

  “Stop!” Kamber cried.

  His warning was too late. Remington fired.

  The tunnel started to collapse.

  Epilogue

  Kamber didn’t see her, but he sensed Subena. He’d hoped she’d join them, but he’d been afraid to ask her. She’d acted strange since the incident in the tunnel. Natural, he supposed, but he didn’t like it.

  Maybe the stress of the past few days had made her distant. Maybe she was still mad about the Givers. Hell, he’d stop drinking blood and draw essence from the stinking crystals if that would make her happy.

  “Kam, you with us?” Ronan asked.

  Remington snorted. “The prince is in love, Ronan. Is he ever really with us anymore?”

  He grinned at his old pal, finding it impossible to be angry about the truth. “Sorry. Guess I drifted.”

  During the week since the kidnapping, Kamber thanked the God of the Mountain every single day. Ronan survived, Subena survived. He could ask no more.

  Kamber also said a prayer of thanks for Remington. If the big warrior hadn’t held the rafter until they’d all sprinted from the tunnel, no one would be sitting around the fire drinking fermented brew.

  “I’ve been wondering,” Ronan paused and poked the fire with a stick. “Are we sure Kelsie died in the tunnel? I saw her fly. How could someone that powerful die from a little cave-in?”

  “She’s dead,” Remington declared. “She might have possessed the powers of the ancients, but she was also half Creshinite. Vulnerable.”

  “What he’s trying to say,” Kamber added, “is that she had some of our skills, but because she was part Creshinite, she had their weakness. A blow to the head or the lack of air would have destroyed her.”

  “I didn’t really need a translation, brother,” Ronan quipped.

  Kamber shrugged. He didn’t really want to talk about that witch. The night in the tunnel easily ranked as the worst in his life.

  He believed his half-sister had perished, but he’d positioned a guard at the tunnel entrance. And several more near the castle. Kelsie hadn’t come out. “She’s dead.”

  “Then where’s her body?” Ronan persisted.

  He shrugged. “Buried.” His brother would learn about the disintegration of essence soon enough.

  Kamber downed the contents of his mug, hoping to forget, hoping to remember. Everything had happened so fast in the tunnel, he still couldn’t be sure he remembered the sequence of events. After Remington fired on Taslin, his wife had removed his shackles. How, Kamber wasn’t sure.

  Together they’d released his brother while Remington held onto the rafter. Subena helped Ronan get out of the tunnel and he’d followed, dragging Taslin’s inert body from the wreckage. He wasn’t sure he would have gone back for his half-sister, even if the tunnel hadn’t collapsed. The dirt-filled passageway seemed like an appropriate grave.

  “I can’t believe she was Creshin’s daughter,” Ronan mused. Kamber hadn’t told him the harpy was actually their half-sister. Someday, he’d have to confess all.

  “We got a message from Dad,” Ronan said. “They still haven’t located Lord Creshin. What do you suppose happened to him?”

  “I’m sure he’ll turn up,” Kamber replied, although he wasn’t sure. Taslin had started to say something about the warload. Kelsie, a.k.a. Lady Vilavettia, had most likely killed her father. The she-devil was clearly insane.

  “What about the Creshinite soldiers?” Ronan asked. “Did we catch all of the renegades?”

  Remington patted him on his back. “You can rest easy. We got all of ’em and we got the scoundrels that tried to hang your brother, too. Kamber interrogated the lot of ’em. If there’d been more assassins or spies, he would’ve sensed it.”

  “Remington’s right. Our soldiers conducted a thorough search. There are no more renegade Creshinites in Gatsle.”

  Kamber opend his mouth but closed his lips and sat up straight. Subena. She’d come outside to join them.

  “And the man who fired the dart at the opera, did you get him, too?” Subena asked. Kamber twisted his head and started to stand. “Don’t get up.”

  Her face radiated life and she was a vision in her new blue gown. He didn’t know a lot about fashion, but the dark color seemed to make her long hair shine brighter and emphasize the silver in her eyes. The fabric also clung to her curves. Looking at her was not conducive to normal breathing.

  “The guy at the opera?” she reminded him.

  Kamber gulped. She wasn’t going to like his answer. “I’m afraid that was Taslin.”

  He felt her good mood dissipate. After everything, she still cared about the scum.

  “Taslin said he missed on purpose,” Kamber added, scarcely able to believe he’d defended the duke.

  His wife nodded. “He’s come out of the coma.”

  She’d checked on the damned duke every single day. Kamber squashed his spurt of jealousy. She’d joined them around the fire. That was a start.

  “Four days he was in that coma.” She sat down next to Kamber. His stomach made a funny little twist. “The medic thinks he’ll recover, but doesn’t know when we can question him.”

  If only she’d stop talking about Taslin. “I can’t believe the cur saved my life,” he mumbled.

  “And how are you doing?” she asked Ronan. Subena reached over and tousled his brother’s hair. Kamber wished she’d do that to him. “I don’t know how you survived in that dark tunnel. When I think… I’ll be right back.”

  Subena rushed behind a tree. They heard her retching.

  “My poor wife cannot even think about tunnels without being sick. The experience in her youth must have been more harrowing than I imagined.”

  Remington looked at him. “You, dear friend, are a monumental idiot.”

  “Hey, I’m really sorry she’s sick, but she’s so…” —he paused to smile— “so damn near perfect, it’s good that she has one weakness.”

  He glanced at Subena when she reemerged, feeling a twinge of concern. Her face seemed a bit pale. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “So tell me, Ronan, how did you manage to keep your sanity in that hole?”

  His brother relished retelling the story. Despite his need to confirm Kelsie’s death, he didn’t seem to have any permanent scars from his experiences underground.

  Kamber ached to touch Subena’s hand. He dared not.

  When Ronan got to the part of his story where he ran from the tunnel, Subena fled again. This time she ran toward the castle.

  “I know she has a phobia, but this is too much,” Kamber blurted. “She’ll probably want to sleep with the lights on, too.”

  Ronan and Remington glared at him.

  “Hey, you have to admit, my normally brave little wife is being rather wimpy.” He grinned. “Radiantly beautiful, but wimpy.”

  Ronan shook his head and addressed Remington. “I do hope my little nephew takes after his mom. His dad is rather daft.”

  Kamber felt his dark skin turn ghostly white. He looked first at Ronan and then at Remington. “Bockle.”

  He heard them laughing at him as he dashed after his wife. He found her in her chambers, rubbing a soft cloth against her face.

  He slipped up behind her, nuzzling her neck. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She shrugged, but he could physically feel the happiness radiating from her body. Or maybe it was his skin that pulsed with energy.

  “I wanted to be sure,” she whispered. “Somehow, a baby seems too wonderful to be true.”

  He couldn’t remember ever feeling so good, as if he weighed nothing. He took the cloth from her hand. Letting it fall to the floor, he turned her around and pulled her into his arms. “You know what this means?”

  She gave him her signature ‘I’m not a moron’ look. “Of course I do, Dökkálfar, but let’s hear your iot
a of wisdom.”

  He tried to contain his grin, not entirely succeeding. “A baby means we’re true mates. You can’t pretend you hate me anymore.”

  She gave a weak punch at his chest. “Of course, I don’t hate you, you big lug. Since you’re not not smart enough to figure it out on your own, I’ll just tell you. I love you.”

  He’d thought he couldn’t feel any happier, but her words changed that. “I love you, too.”

  Somehow, words weren’t enough. He pulled her lips against his, needing contact more than air.

  His erection grew. He sensed the moment she became aware of his passion. He lowered his lips to the tender spot where her neck met her beautiful shoulder. Between nibbles, he managed to speak. “Why don’t we try to add some more art to the walls?”

  “On occasion, your ideas are almost brilliant.” She tilted her head to give him better access to her exposed skin.

  Suddenly, he felt her muscles tense, but his body refused to let any reality intrude into his desire. “Uh, Kamber.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Kam...”

  He lifted his head to stare into her brilliant silver eyes. “You’re not feeling sick again, are you?”

  She shook her head. “No. And don’t look now, but I think we’re floating.”

  About the Author

  A professional computer geek, Genia Avers started writing extensively when she traded in her ski-boots for flip-flops and moved to North Carolina. She approaches writing like a box of candy, sinking her teeth into several genres and enjoying every delicious word. A Golden Heart finalist and winner of the prestigious Daphne du Maurier contest, she has one constant: an HEA. Writing, like reading, is a little escape from reality. Why on earth would anyone want a somber ending?

  She’s the product of a mixed marriage (she’s a Yankees fan, her husband Jim has a Red Sox affliction) and lives in a house owned by Kiko the cat. When not conducting string therapy for their landlord, she and Jim can be found combing the beaches near Charleston or appreciating nature in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

  Also Available at MuseItUp Publishing

  Sloane Wolf

  By Margay Leah Justice

  Paranormal Romance

  Legend brings them together, but danger may keep them apart.

  For more than a hundred and fifty years, the gray wolf has failed to roam the hills of Massachusetts, leading to the belief that they are extinct. But with a spattering of sightings across the Berkshires, the legend of the gray wolf comes to fruition. The product of that legend, Micah Sloane will go to great lengths to protect his kind from the threat of outsiders, who seek to exploit the legend for their own interests. One thing he didn’t count on, however, was finding his soul mate in the company of such men.

  From the first time she predicted a stranger’s imminent death when she was little more than a child, Shiloh Beck knew she was different. Wishing to cultivate her gift, her parents made the fateful decision to enroll her in a private school for paranormally gifted children. Unbeknownst to them, the school was just a front for a research facility simply called the Institute, whose secret board members weaned gifted children from their families to exploit their gifts. Shiloh has spent the better part of her life trying to escape the Institute and reunite with the family she was told had abandoned her.

  From their first meeting, Micah and Shiloh share a connection that goes beyond the normal to bond them in a way that love alone cannot. But before they can build a life together, they must deal with the fall-out when the legend of the wolves collides with the men behind the Institute.

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