by C. J. Pinard
Fortunately, Malina was at home when he picked up the phone and called her.
As she portaled into Jonathan’s office, a look of horror masked her face as she saw the unconscious young man lying there. “Who is that?” she asked.
“Thank you for coming. I just rescued this one from a vamp attack. He was within an inch of his life. He’d either be dead or a bloodsucker by now if I hadn’t intervened.”
She eyed him. “So what does this have to do with me?”
He let out a deep breath. “I need you to make Enchantment for him. All those years ago, your mother promised me a partner and never delivered. I think I have been more than patient.” He paused and looked directly at Malina. “Honestly, I had already chosen this particular kid a while ago, and pure circumstance, or maybe even fate, has dropped him in my lap tonight.”
Malina was silent for a few minutes, not saying anything, but staring at Thomas with curiosity. Jonathan could tell the wheels in her mind were whirling with indecision.
“Please, Malina,” he whispered.
She looked at him, waved her hand in the air and was gone through her magic portal. Jonathan let out a disappointed sigh but remained where he was.
A minute later, Malina returned, causing Jonathan to jump.
“You scared me! Where did you go?”
She held up the vial between her thumb and forefinger. “Where is your teapot?”
Jonathan smiled.
THE END
∞∞∞
Enchanted Immortals 3: The Vampyre
By C.J. Pinard
Copyright 2013 C.J. Pinard
SYNOPSIS:
What was once a simple life has turned into a very long life for vampyre Pascal Theroux. The initial loneliness, along with the obsession of not being able to walk in the sun, begins to consume him. When he and his mate, Angel, finally resign themselves to the fact that they will forever be confined by the night, they figure out a way to create a clan of sun-resistant vampires to do their dirty work for them. But is Angel really on his side anymore?
As Malina and Thomas prepare for their wedding, and Kathryn and Jonathan begin to explore the possibility of becoming serious again, a new agent from the BSI shows up and delivers some disturbing news about the Portland Vampire Clan. While the Immortals, including newbie Dr. Tyler James, learn to hone in new skills and perfect their old ones, they also prepare for the trial of Seth and Malachi, who are imprisoned on the Island. The news the shapeshifters deliver during their trial, though, has the power to alter the history books.
“These violent delights have violent ends...”
William Shakespeare
PROLOGUE
∞∞∞
He was desperately trying to keep his campfire from going out. Not that he needed its warmth, but rather, its light. After all, his body temperature never changed. Last time he checked, he was still ice-cold and lacking a pulse.
The place was normally deserted, as most believed it was haunted or perhaps held some mysterious powers, as people’s height would seemingly change just by entering parts of its lands, and some claimed to feel a powerful presence here. Some even claimed its proximity to the Oregon coast caused the strange piece of land to be affected by shifting tides as a result of the moon’s gravitational pull.
It was the year 1902, and more research would be done, but little did he know that in the near future, a business-savvy man would turn this strange area into a tourist spot and make enough money to never have to work again.
Leaving his spot, the undead man stalked into the wooded area to collect more felled tree branches for kindling. After accumulating a few, an ear-piercing scream split open the dark, and startled, he dropped the tree branches.
Moving slowly toward the screaming, he came upon a clearing where three women were dancing barefoot in a circle around a campfire. Wearing long, flowing white dresses, their arms were raised to the blackened, starlit sky. One lone woman was on her knees in the middle of their circle, and she was the source of the screams.
The man shook his head and mumbled, “Bloody witches.”
He recollected the branches and tromped back over to his own campfire, rekindling the dying embers by adding the branches and poking it with a stick. From his pocket, he pulled out the leather-bound journal he had been writing in. He was anxious to write more as the excited fire gained strength and provided more light.
The screaming continued.
He shook his head. “I can’t be the only one who can hear that,” he muttered in his thick British accent to no one in particular.
He set his pen and journal down with a huff and walked back to the clearing. He stood with his arms folded for a few minutes, watching the crazy witches.
The one in the center was on her knees with her hands over her ears and she was screaming over and over. All of a sudden, the three dancing women stopped and stood still, staring at the woman in the middle.
Her screaming then stopped, and while she was still on her knees, she bent over with her face in her hands and was rocking back and forth. The man watched curiously as the witches stared at the distraught woman.
As the woman inside the circle lifted her head, she looked at the three, and with tears streaming down her face, she whispered, “Help me.”
The witches looked at each other.
Then one said, “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s gone crazy,” a second breathed.
The third whispered, “I don’t think she’s crazy; I think it’s this place. It’s been enchanted by a sylph, you know.”
The first witch let out a cackling laugh, throwing her head back. “There’s no such thing as faeries.”
Suddenly, the woman in the middle lunged for the third witch and knocked her to the ground. She jumped on top of her and wrapped both hands around her throat, pressing her thumbs into the witch’s windpipe with all her might. The other two screamed and hollered as they tried to pull her off, but were shocked when they realized she was unmovable.
The man ran to the witches with great speed and pulled the crazy woman off by her curly blonde hair. He yanked her head back, and without hesitation, bit into her neck and didn’t stop sucking until she stopped struggling and screaming.
The other witches were frozen in horror.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grinned, dropping the dead woman to the rotting leaves below. Looking at the two remaining witches, he sneered, “You may not believe in faeries, but I would venture to say you now believe in the existence of the vampyre.”
Then, the screaming began again.
chapter 1
∞∞∞
South Shields, England – 1809
He sat on the rocky shore of the River Tyne, allowing himself a quick rest before he had to be back on the boat. He pulled a crusty sandwich from his satchel and sat munching on it as he wiped his sweaty brow with the palm of his hand. It was particularly muggy this summer day, and the last place he wanted to be was working. He gazed out over the sparkling river and wished for a cool breeze for some relief from the heat. The air was heavy with salt and humidity.
“Sebastian! Get off your lazy bum and get back here and help us!”
Looking up, he saw three of his mates waving at him from the large fishing boat. He groaned and shoveled the last of his mutton sandwich into his mouth and stood up. He brushed the rock and sand from his trousers and made his way back to the boat, slinging his satchel over his shoulder.
“You blokes are relentless!” Sebastian grumbled under his breath as he boarded.
Sebastian Bell did not particularly like working on a fishing boat. Just twenty-one years old, he had better things planned for his life. But catching fish was better than working in this father’s shoe shop. His older brother, Silas, was chosen as the apprentice to someday take over the shoemaker’s business, and he had no objections to that.
Sebastian watched as a deckhand released the ties which tethered them to shore and cl
ambered onboard the old boat, which began to drift out to sea by way of the river. Once they had sailed far enough out, he and another sailor released the nets, praying for a large salmon catch. Their prayers were answered and required all hands on deck to rein in the large haul.
As the net full of flopping fish was plopped onboard, the sailors immediately began to sort through them and throw back the rejects. When the job was done and the fish were all put away, the sailors rested.
“So, Sebastian, what are you doing this weekend?” asked Joe, the ship’s first mate. He was drinking strong coffee from a tin cup with a handle. Joe had the biggest belly Sebastian had ever seen.
“I am taking my girl out to the countryside. We are going to picnic out there.”
The grubby sailors burst into laughter.
“Aye, you do everything that lass of yours wants you to?” asked another sailor in between laughs.
Sebastian did not find any of this funny. “Yes, well I don’t see any of you chaps with any women to speak of. And I don’t mean those wenches you fancy in the pubs you frequent every weekend.”
“Boy, you know nothing of wenches. You should try one once,” Joe responded.
Sebastian eyed him and said, “I’ll take a pass on that, Big Joe.”
“How old are ya anyway, kid?”
“I’m twenty-one, and I am going to leave this place as soon as I save enough money. I’m taking Amelia and we are moving to France. I’ve had enough of England!”
More laughter ensued.
Sebastian shook his head and got up, throwing his cards onto the crude wooden table where they were playing All Fours.
After the day was over, Sebastian took his satchel and headed for his humble South Shields home. He eyed the Bell Shoemakers shop that sat below the flat he shared with his family and climbed the steps in the alley next to it.
“Hello, mother,” Sebastian said, kissing her on the cheek. She was stirring a large pot of stew over a fire kiln. She was a tiny woman, her black hair pinned neatly in a bun on the back of her head. Her kind brown eyes smiled at her youngest son.
Silas walked over and smacked him on the side of his head and smiled. “You stink, plonker. Go wash up, we don’t need to smell your river stench while we eat!”
“Language, Silas!” their mother scolded.
Sebastian did indeed go to the basin and wash up. He shook his head at his living situation. He couldn’t wait to move out, marry Amelia, take her to France, and start a new life away from his dysfunctional family and annoying brother.
After dinner, Sebastian retreated to his room and opened the side table drawer next to his bed and pulled out his journal. He began to write about the day’s events, as uneventful as they might have been, then closed it up and replaced it in the drawer. He fell asleep thinking about his sweet Amelia.
The next morning, he grabbed his satchel and headed for the large fishing boat anchored at the edge of the river.
“Big Joe, good mornin’,” Sebastian said.
“Aye boy, sorry you came all this way, but you be not needed today. If you’d like to earn a little extra money, you could show up tonight and work the nightshift.”
Sebastian cringed. He had mixed emotions about this; he was happy to have the day off but he absolutely loathed the nightshift. The sea was eerie at night and he didn’t particularly care for the night crew. They were just… creepy. But, he had to make a living.
“Tell Aiden I’ll be back at sundown,” Sebastian called out as he walked away.
He spent the day counting the money and loose change he hid in a box under his bedding. He also read books; he loved anything he could get his hands on. From the classics of Shakespeare to more modern novels like those of Jane Austen. He knew he would never live it down if his shipmates found out he was reading “girly books.”
As nightfall set, he loaded a sandwich and canteen of water into his satchel and headed to the shore. There he found the night crew of strange sailors as he boarded the boat, hoping for a quiet night.
Aiden, the captain, approached him. Out of all the strange night crewmen, Aiden was the least weird. Sebastian didn’t mind him too much. Aiden actually owned the ship and employed all the sailors and deckhands.
“Hey, lad, how ya doin’?” Aiden asked.
Sebastian smiled, his crystal blue eyes reflecting the lamps which swung lazily around the ship’s bow. “Good, thanks for asking. What’s in store for tonight?”
“Not much, I’m afraid. Just trying to get what we can get. The summer seems to be the best time to catch these feckin’ salmon,” Aiden replied. Aiden was a big strapping Irishman who had been in England for some time. His auburn hair and brown eyes made him look rugged, but he had kind eyes. He had a light peppering of freckles over his pale skin.
“Well, let’s get to it then!” Sebastian replied.
Unfortunately for them, the night was very quiet. The net throws did not yield much, and the night was mostly unproductive. They spent most of it talking.
“So, Sebastian, how come you’re not a shoemaker like your father?” Aiden asked as he repaired a piece of a broken net.
Sebastian grinned and shook his head. “I have no interest in that. Not that catching fish is all that interesting either. No offense.”
Aiden laughed. “None taken. So what are you going to do with your life?”
“Marry my girl and move to France,” Sebastian replied.
“France, huh? I’ve been there, not impressed, I must say,” Aiden said.
Sebastian knit his eyebrows together. “Why’s that?”
“Eh, the French, they’re pretentious and hate the English. Don’t waste your time. The New World is where things are happening.”
That piqued Sebastian’s interest. “You know, I have been thinking about that, but I would have to save a lot more money to afford to purchase a boat passage to America.” He looped a strand of black hair behind his ear that had escaped his ponytail.
“Aye, yes,” Aiden said, “I know the feeling. I, too, am saving my pennies for a bigger boat so I may take myself there.”
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Oh yes, young man. You know that shipyard they be buildin’ on the shore? I’ve got me own little ship in the works.” Aiden spied the orange and pink sunrise that was beginning to peek over the water then turned his attention back to Sebastian. “Tell you what, you come work the nightshift tomorrow night and we’ll talk more about it.”
“I most definitely will. Thanks, Aiden. This is the first pleasant nightshift I’ve had,” Sebastian said.
Aiden laughed. “No problem, kid. See you tomorrow.”
Aiden made haste in getting off the boat and almost ran from the shoreline to the road to get home.
∞∞∞
Portland, Oregon – Present Day
Thomas jumped up from his bed and grabbed the little white stick she was holding. “So two lines means pregnant? Are you sure? Did you read the instructions? Where are the instructions? Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe this test is wrong!” His voice went up an octave.
“Calm down!” Malina said, snatching the pregnancy test out of his hand and tucking it into the pocket of her short purple robe.
“What in the hell are you yelling about in here at six a.m.?” Jonathan asked, standing at the doorway in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. He had an arm leant against the doorjamb and he was drumming his fingers against it. His wavy dirty blonde hair was tousled from sleep.
Or lack of it.
Thomas blew out a breath. “Nothing, boss. Just a spat, that’s all.”
Malina slid a glance at Thomas then back at Jonathan. “Sorry. It’s nothing, really, I’m sorry we disturbed you.”
Kathryn appeared behind Jonathan, slipping on a silky pink robe. She looked into the room, after having heard the conversation between Thomas and Jonathan, and shook her head and yawned. “I’m going to make coffee.”
When Jonathan left the room, Thomas turned h
is attention back to Malina. “We need to get our own place.”
She grinned. “Yes, and it will have to be baby-proofed.”
Thomas went over and closed their bedroom door and began to pace. He was snapping his thumb and middle finger together. Malina observed his telltale sign of stress and approached him.
“Tom, honey, it’s going to be okay. We’ll figure things out.”
He stopped pacing and stood in front of her and hugged her. “I know. I love you so much. This is just… unexpected.”
“Had you never thought about having children?” she asked against his chest.
He pulled back and looked down at her. He wound a strand of brown hair behind her ear and stared into her honey-colored eyes. “Honestly, Malina, I hadn’t allowed myself to think about having children with you, because I know what it means for you and I can’t bear the thought of us not being together forever.”
She looked up into his blue eyes and said, “I know. But maybe we’ve both lived long enough. Perhaps it’s time to live a normal life.”
∞∞∞
Angel was alone in the bedroom she shared with Pascal. She had returned from Night Crawlers, Portland’s largest nightclub, which she managed with the owner and her long-time boyfriend, Pascal. The news of Joshua’s and Smith’s deaths was a bit much for her, and she was in no mood to plaster on a happy face for everyone.
She was distraught over Pascal’s reaction to their deaths. He had been happy about it. Happy!
The jerk.
She lay in her bed, clutching a pillow. Tears were leaking down onto the white pillowcase, the watery expression of her grief stained black by the eye makeup she hadn’t bothered to remove. It’s not that she loved Joshua, but she did share a house with him.
