Under a Warlock's Spell

by Ann Cory

  Under a Warlock's Spell

  Ann Cory

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  2932 Ross Clark Circle, #384

  Dothan, AL 36301

  Under a Warlock's Spell

  Copyright © 2006 by Nancy Jackson

  Cover by Scott Carpenter

  ISBN: 1-59998-091-6

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: August 2006

  Dedication

  For my husband. Through light and dark times, our love knows no boundaries.

  Prologue

  All she had left were her dreams. Even the bad ones started with passion. Her hands dragged along his slick body, drawing his cock towards her with each caress. Minna loved the way he stared into her eyes. A blend of lust and love that had never died from the moment they had first laid eyes on one another.

  "Take me, Derik. Take me to the skies. Let me soar among the soft, billowing clouds. Just don't ever let me fall."

  Her body shook in exhilaration. No man had ever made her feel the bountiful taste of total satisfaction before. He was the light in her eyes. The first breath she took in the morning. A reason to face each day with new hopes and dreams.

  He circled her nipples until they were impossibly stretched. "But you know how much I like to tease your body with my explorations."

  Minna groaned and gripped his shoulders tight. "Yes, but your explorations are with your tongue and fingers. You know it sends me right over the edge. I can hardly breathe because I am so overwhelmed."

  "It brings me pleasure every time your body shudders beneath mine. Every time you cry out for more and beg me to not stop. With your womanly form in my arms, I completely surrender to whatever wishes you make. What is it you most want tonight?"

  "I want you. All of you."

  He pretended to not hear her breathy answer and prompted her to beg some more.

  "Say it again. I am not convinced."

  "Please. I beg you, Derik. With everything I have I beg you to fill me with your passion. I crave you between my legs tonight. Explore me all you want in the morning, but I've got to have you now."

  He laughed at her pouting lips and desperate pleas. "Oh, all right. But you had better like it."

  Minna couldn't help but burst into giggles. "Like it? I love it. I love you so very much. Promise me you will never leave me."

  "Never. Our hearts bind us and mine shall never stray. Our true love is eternal."

  He shifted his body beneath her, and she felt the prodding of his cock against her thigh. His flesh sent her entire being on fire. Minna angled herself to receive his thick offering.

  She tilted her head back into the pillow with her eyes closed and held her breath, waiting for the moment of entry. Like always, it would send her into a new realm of fantasy.

  "Please. Stop teasing me."

  His laughter echoed around the room, becoming more and more faint. Suddenly his weight lightened and she could no longer feel his muscular body. The body that could send her to the stars and back with a single touch. Her pillar of strength. She opened her eyes and gasped as she watched him being lifted off from her.

  "Derik!"

  A spiraling black cloud appeared over their bed with a menacing face grimacing at her. Red piercing eyes broke through, gawking at her, and she quickly covered her body with the sheet. Another hole appeared inside the cloud, darker and more sinister. Minna watched in horror as the hole turned into a mouth with rows upon rows of sharp, jagged teeth.

  Two black hands with crimson claws reached around Derik and pulled him up swiftly into the hideous jaws. She watched him struggle, watched his mouth say her name but couldn't hear anything over the pounding of her heart. She reached out to tighten her hold of him, hoping she would wake up and find it was nothing more than a bad dream. But as quickly as the demonic cloud appeared, it vanished, swallowing him up, along with all of her dreams.

  Minna screamed and cried out for him until her throat was sore and raw. She stared at the ceiling through a blur of tears. What was it? Why did it come only for him? Her heart ached and throbbed. Without her beloved Derik, she could not go on.

  Chapter One

  Minna waited for word from Lessier and hoped he would bring good news this time. She wrung her hands nervously as she waited. The floorboards had become worn from her endless pacing. To stand around and do nothing seemed unproductive and gave her too much time to worry.

  The sound of steady footsteps carried her to the open window and she held her breath. A tall, dark shadow approached and passed the trees that lined her walkway. She recognized the sturdy form and tore open the door with an ounce of hope gleaming in her heart.

  "Lessier, my good friend, have you found him? Have you heard anything about Derik?"

  His chiseled features displayed deep concern. He took her nail-bitten hands in his and kneaded them. It startled her how cold his hands were.

  "No, I'm afraid my news is grim yet again tonight. I'd give anything to say I have something new to report, but I would be lying."

  Her heart sank. Why did she bother to hope anymore? Night after night it was nothing but the same torture.

  "Minna, you must know that I have my best men searching, but it has been over two months now. I think it is time to consider the possibility he may never return."

  She pulled her hands away, as if his words had burned through her flesh. "I am not ready to accept that from you or anyone else. He's not the kind of man who disappears without a trace, Lessier. You know him."

  She looked at him, her eyes pleading to allow her the illusion that Derik was still alive somewhere.

  He nodded and bowed his head, sighing heavily.

  "I apologize. I did not wish to offend. I am ashamed to have said anything less than a positive remark. The last thing I want is to see you in anguish, least of all from something I have said. Of course, you are right, he is a true and noble man, especially when it comes to you. Derik will likely return soon for he loves you dearly."

  Minna forced a smile through a blanket of tears. "Thank you. It is your kindness that enables me to hold on. He would be here now, I am certain of it, but I sense something has happened to him, and he is unable to make it on his own. The feelings are too strong to be false." She sobbed and leaned her head into her friend's shoulder.

  Lessier stroked her lightly on the back in small, soothing circles. How she wished it were Derik's embrace.

  "I'm sure you are right, and we will continue the search again tomorrow. There are still many miles of land to cover. We have yet to reach the barriers of Bramstead. As I have said from the beginning, my best men are combing the fields, camping out, checking for footprints, looking for clues, and all with a strong aspiration to bring him home to you. Regardless of any reward money, they do it because they care and want to see a smile upon your lovely face."

  His hand brushed against her damp cheek, and he flashed a sincere smile. She doubted the men cared at all about her state of mind, but the comment was welcome.

  Lessier's gaze didn't move from her. "Would you like me to stay and keep you
company this evening?"

  She sighed, fighting another onslaught of tears. "No, but thank you. I'll finish my tea and try to get some rest. Much of my energy is spent in waiting for you to arrive. By the time you do come, I am exhausted. My emotions go everywhere at once and it wears me out."

  "Makes perfect sense to me."

  He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dried her eyes.

  The gesture along with the sudden silence brought butterflies to her stomach. Moments like this seemed awkward and unwanted. Lessier often overstayed his welcome, though she would never say so to his face. She feared it would backfire on her and he would call off the searchers. Without them, there would be little hope of finding Derik.

  Minna backed away from him and started to boil water.

  "Tea and rest sound like excellent ideas to me. The dark circles under your eyes speak volumes, my dear. Please know that I worry about you and will do whatever I can to help you through this trying time. I'll be by again in a few nights with what I hope to be some kind of news." He kissed her on the cheek and turned to leave. "Good night."

  Minna returned the farewell and closed the door behind him. She leaned against the wooden frame and took a deep breath. Her heart felt heavy. How was it possible with all his men scouting around for clues that not a trace had been found? She tired of hearing the same old news from Lessier. It was the same as not hearing any news at all. He was a good friend and meant well, but she was beginning to doubt her need to rely on him for any glimmer of hope. He offered little. It had meant the world to her when he offered his services in the beginning, and she would always be grateful for that, but her patience was wearing thin. Still, she appreciated Lessier's concern and wanted more than anything to trust him.

  She made herself a cup of chamomile tea and sipped it slowly. The warm liquid trickled down her throat and helped calm her anxiety. Too much time had passed since Derik's disappearance. No one had heard or seen anything. She found it difficult to believe a grown man could go out into the woods, as he did every day, and suddenly vanish. No footprint, sign of a struggle, article of clothing, or anything.

  Her instincts told her Derik was still alive, but her thoughts created morbid delusions of him lying somewhere in pain, disoriented, and unable to make his way back home. He was a strong man in both mind and spirit. It didn't sit right with her conscience that he could cease to exist without a fight.

  She smiled in remembrance of his tender kisses and warm, chestnut brown eyes. She ambled over to the fireplace mantle and stood on her tiptoes, reaching for the delicate figurine he'd given to her on her thirtieth birthday. Two fairies intertwined in one another's arms, with a pair of translucent wings flowing gracefully behind them. It was her favorite gift and dearest to her heart.

  She traced their fragile porcelain faces with her ragged fingertips. Derik had told her the story behind the union of the fairies, as was told to him by his own mother when he was a boy. The fairies were lovers who faced grave dangers and triumphed, only to be separated once more. Turmoil plagued their every effort to find one another for many long years, but neither dared to give up hope. Night and day they looked to the moon and blew kisses to the wind. They made wishes on stars and held onto a certain hope that kept them believing in each other's love. One night, their prayers were answered and they were given a special gift of flight. Each one took to the midnight skies, following their pathway of stardust home. It wasn't long before they were reunited and their hearts beat as one again. From that moment on, they were inseparable, proving that while there were obstacles that came about, nothing could keep them apart. Their depth of love allowed them to fly to one another anytime, as one, for the magic grew when their hearts and bodies were meshed.

  Derik insisted their love was of the same magnitude, and that no matter what happened, they would always be able to find one another, even when it seemed hopeless. Their destiny promised that they would never be apart for long.

  Minna choked back more tears. She had believed his words to be true. If the story he told had any resemblance to theirs, this tale about the fairies that he insisted mirrored their love, then why had they been separated for so long? Why had he not flown back to her? There were no wings attached to her back, and for all the wishes on stars and kisses in the wind, her prayers were never answered.

  Minna placed the figure back on the mantle and threw a heavy shawl over her shoulders. She was numb. Sooner or later, she would have to face the terrible truth, but until then she would cling to the promises they had made. She looked forward to the night when she wouldn't go to bed alone. The other side was cold without Derik's warm body to occupy it. When she turned there was nothing there to keep her from falling. He had promised not to let her fall.

  That night, as every night for the past three months, she cried herself to sleep in the mahogany rocking chair he'd made for her with his own two hands. As a master craftsman he built the most beautiful pieces of furniture, and the people would buy from no one else. Derik gave the same detail and attention to their relationship, and she loved him for it. Minna loved his hands. Strong, powerful, and as soft as a summer's breeze when they caressed her body.

  She longed to have dreams of happier times, when the world bowed down around them and celebrated their love.

  Eyes closed, she fell asleep.

  Minna stood in a field of daisies, gathering a bouquet to place on the table with their bountiful supper. Derik was coming home from a hard day's work, his body covered in sweat and sawdust, but he wore a smile that lit up even the gloomiest of days. After an exchange of admiration for one another, they embraced, kissed, and let the magic of the moment take them away. His hands pulled off her flowing white gown, her body illuminated in the early evening light. She tore away all remains of his tattered clothing and they stood together, naked bodies pressed close, their souls united as one. Hands explored, tongues danced, lips tasted the precious breath of life. They knew each other inside and out, yet every touch was a new exploration, a new sensation.

  Bodies fell against the soft emerald glades, her bouquet of daisies strewn around their savory, warm flesh. Home was where her breasts graced the hard muscles of his chest and pressed against the chamber of his devoted heart. Kisses grew into a hungry fervor as she straddled his body, her auburn hair billowing in the breeze. Their rhythm joined with the sounds of nature all around them, as beads of sweat trickled down her neck, plastering her hair to her skin. Where his hands touched, she melted. Time had no meaning. They exchanged promises and words of devotion as their bodies came together in a celebratory dance. A breath of life filled her up and charged her with energy that made her soul sing.

  Just as her reality had been interrupted months ago, so was her dream. Minna woke and found herself alone and shivering. She pulled the shawl tighter around her body and pretended it was Derik's warm embrace instead. It would be another long night.

  Chapter Two

  Crowds of people screamed, running each other over as they desperately tried to flee the bloodthirsty beast. The ferocious roars and growls echoed through the cobblestone streets and filled each villager with fear. Children clung to their mother's bosoms and hid their faces from the hideous sight. Anyone in its way felt the sting of sharp-bladed claws, now stained a deep unsightly crimson.

  The king looked out from his high tower, frightened. He felt like a coward. Another night of barbarous mayhem and he would have to give in to the ludicrous demands of the enemy. He shuddered to think what would become of his kingdom and his people if he did not offer protection. At least a hundred innocent townspeople had been decapitated and mutilated in the past few nights, with the majority being poor farmers who had nowhere else to go. Families were being torn apart left and right. He feared the women and children would not be spared, a concern that weighed heavily on his heart. How could he live with himself if a child were slain? It was his duty to protect the innocent. So far he failed miserably.

  King Villaire turned away and h
ung his head in shame. The good people of Bramstead trusted him and looked up to him in times of trauma and turmoil. He had let them down, and the price he had to pay was to watch them die. He stroked the scraggily hairs of his beard, noticing briefly how white they had become in such a short time. Years were passing far too quickly. He missed his son and wished to speak with him. His life had been full, his reign more than satisfactory, until now. He'd managed to restore hope in his people and see to it that no one ever went hungry. To abdicate now wouldn't be the worst thing, but to give in to the likes of one who practiced dark magic sent shivers down his spine.

  His own father would never have let things get so far out of control. While his father had ruled the kingdom with an iron grips, he still had heart and cared greatly for his people. He expected the best of those around him, and as a result had been well respected even by those who didn't agree with his ways. His father would never have turned away at the chance for a battle. Thoughts of war pulsed in his veins, and he was built as sturdy as the armor his guards wore.

  Unlike his father, he detested war and found nothing heroic about it. Villaire was a follower of peaceful ways, and though some considered him weak, many more applauded him for it. It broke his heart to watch the women cry over their sons and husbands, never knowing if they would see them again. War was upon his kingdom, whether he wanted to admit to it or not. Instead of battling an army of men, he was battling a beast and his sadistic maker. Now wasn't the time to give into fears, though fear filled his mind.

  He stared down again as new havoc and pandemonium broke out once more among the lower reaches of the castle grounds. Drastic measures needed to be taken. He needed to act, and not stand around gaping like a helpless fool. This was his kingdom, his land. Bramstead was worth fighting for.

  "Guards!"

  His voice rang out, gathering the attention of many who also stood around in stunned silence. He wanted nothing more than to send his men out to fight and maim the beast. Adrenaline coursed through his body, his blood surging at a rapid pace. The only things getting in his way were the values he held true. He did not want war. Not yet. Another tactic was needed, if he could find one. Villaire needed to retreat to his room and map out a strategy where more had to die. For now, his guilt and conscience were smeared all over the streets below and they needed to be attended to.