Enchanted Immortals Series Box Set: Books 1-4 plus Novella

by C. J. Pinard

  Jonathan’s rage was fueled even hotter at the sound of Pascal’s thick British accent. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt who he was.

  Angel looked confused and scared at the sudden intrusion. Thomas took a seat in Pascal’s chair. He put his hand out. “Hi, I’m Thomas O’Malley.”

  She rolled her eyes at him and folded her arms.

  Jonathan followed Pascal into the bathroom. Once the door was closed, Jonathan grabbed Pascal by the throat and slammed him up against the wall, cracking the porcelain tiles at Pascal’s back. “You killed my Emma, Sebastian Bell, you sick son-of-a-bitch! I know who you are!” Jonathan’s voice began to crack. He couldn’t believe the feelings this man – this creature – had conjured up; two-hundred-year-old feelings.

  “Put me down and let me explain,” Pascal choked out.

  Jonathan dropped him, where he fell in a heap on the floor. He rubbed his neck.

  “Why are you getting your knickers in a twist over something that happened almost two hundred years ago, chap? The way I see it,” he rubbed his neck some more and straightened out his tie, “we are pretty much even now. Wouldn’t you say?”

  Jonathan’s eyes got big. “Even? You killed my wife!”

  “And you killed my brother!” Pascal screamed.

  Just then, an old man walked into the bathroom, saw the confrontation, and turned right back around and walked out.

  “I killed him to protect her!” Jonathan spat. “You knew what you were doing! You killed her for nothing more than selfish vengeance, there’s a difference! You took two lives that day. You shattered my world and the world of my children, you no-good, bloodsucking leech!”

  Jonathan reached for Pascal again when Thomas flashed in and grabbed Jonathan. “No, boss. Not today.”

  Jonathan was practically in tears as he glared at Pascal. “Get the hell out of Portland. Leave the country for that matter. I don’t ever want to see you or your vampire bimbo around here ever again.”

  Jonathan stormed out of the bathroom, ripping off a soap dispenser and throwing it across the large restroom on his way out.

  Pascal Theroux grinned as he readjusted his tie, and decided living in Portland was going to be very fun indeed.

  THE END

  ∞∞∞

  Enchanted Immortals 4: The VIXEN

  By C.J. Pinard

  Copyright 2013 C.J. Pinard

  DEDICATION

  For Mike, my loving, overprotective meathead and soulmate.

  SYNOPSIS:

  Kathryn Jones has had a rough start in life, and as things seemed to just continue on a downward spiral, she finally decides to leave her depraved life and move to a new city for a fresh start. When tragedy strikes there, she plummets herself into her work and gets the surprise of her life when she unexpectedly meets the man who will continually take her breath away for the next hundred years. Will her rocky relationship with him last?

  Meanwhile in Portland, as the shapeshifters open a new nightclub, the vampires struggle to keep theirs running with all the new changes in the house. Angel has finally had enough of the young vampires, and takes matters into her own hands to realign leadership in the house. As Thomas and Malina prepare to become parents, Malina begins to fret over her upcoming mortality and disappears. Will Thomas and Jonathan find her in time? Find out in this final installment of the Enchanted Immortals series

  . “Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.”

  ~William Shakespeare

  PROLOGUE

  ∞∞∞

  Her teeth were chattering so loud, she couldn’t hear herself think. She looked up at her mother, who was dragging her by the hand, and wondered where they were going.

  “Mommy, I’m cold,” she said.

  Her mother looked down at her. “I know, baby. We’ll be inside soon.”

  The little girl followed faithfully, hoping there would also be something to eat where they were going. The cold was biting her to the bone, which barely numbed the pain of her empty belly.

  After what seemed like forever to the five-year-old, they finally walked into a building. What greeted them inside was a mass of tables, with various dirty-looking people sitting around them with trays of food. The smell of the food caused her stomach to rumble.

  “Mommy, I’m hungry,” she said, looking up into her mother’s tired, dull blue eyes.

  Those eyes smiled sadly back at her. “I know, Kathy. We’ll get you something to eat.”

  Her mother plunked her down on one of the cold benches as an older woman with a kind smile greeted them. “Hello. Do you folks need a place to stay?”

  Her mother smiled weakly at the grandmotherly woman. “Yes, please. My daughter and I… we… don’t have any place to go.”

  “Of course. Grab a tray. You look like you could use something to eat,” the woman replied. She then looked down at the little girl. “What’s your name, young lady?”

  “Kathy,” she replied.

  “Well, Kathy, are you hungry?”

  The little girl nodded.

  Her mother smiled down at her. “Stay here, baby, I’ll get us some food.”

  As her mother set her backpack down on the floor, the nice older lady sat next to her. “So, where have you two come from?”

  Kathy shrugged and said nothing. The woman grabbed her tiny hand, rubbing it between her own to impart some warmth into it. “It’s okay, honey. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. My name is Mary.”

  Kathy wished she could read better. There was a large sign on the wall that had words she hadn’t learned yet. She looked at the nice lady and pointed. “What does that say?”

  Mary looked at the sign, then back to Kathy. “It says ‘Women’s Shelter’.”

  “Oh.”

  Just then, Kathy’s mother returned with two trays of food. She set a tray in front of her, and Kathy wasted no time digging into the mashed potatoes and sliced turkey.

  Mary went to sit beside Kathy’s mother. “You’re in luck. We have two empty beds.” She paused, smiling, then added, “I’m Mary, by the way.”

  “Hi, Mary. I’m Jean, nice to meet you. Thank you for your kindness, you don’t know what this means to me and my daughter.”

  Mary smiled. “Of course, dear. It’s what we do.”

  Jean and Kathy finished their meals and were shown the way to two small cots in a large room. Lots of other women and children were quieting down for the night as they settled into their little space.

  Once they were ready for bed, Kathy crawled into the cot with her mother.

  “Mommy, how long do we have to stay here? I’m scared.”

  Jean smoothed her daughter’s white-blonde hair back and kissed the top of her head. “I know, baby. We won’t have to stay here for long, I hope. Mommy’s gonna look for a job tomorrow.”

  Kathy wanted to ask about daddy, but she knew she’d get the same answer she had been getting for the past few days: You’ll never have to see him again.

  Kathy had always been scared of her father, he was not nice to her mother, or even her, but still, she missed him a little bit. She tried not to think of all the times he had made mommy cry, or had left bruises on her own bottom and arms when she would accidentally spill her milk or splash too much water out of the bathtub.

  Just as she dozed off to sleep in her mother’s arms, she jerked awake as she fell to the floor with a thud. Gasping for air as she let out a painful cry, she felt a hand tighten around her arm. She looked up in horror to see her father.

  “Let’s go, little girl,” he said gruffly, snatching her backpack from the floor near the cot.

  She looked over at her mother but all she saw were lifeless blue eyes staring up at the ceiling, unseeing.

  And blood. So much blood.

  Chapter 1

  ∞∞∞

  Chicago, Illinois – 1918

  The sign’s red light from the hotel across the street was flashing through the open curtains into the small, dank hotel room. She s
tared unseeing at the two twenty dollar bills that lay on the hotel room’s dresser. The red light continued to pulsate, bathing the room in a bloody glow.

  She slipped her robe up over her bare body, the cool silk gliding over her shoulders with ease. She walked to the dresser and slipped the money into her pocket. Grabbing the pack of Pall Mall’s from the dresser top, she fished around in her robe pocket for a match. She suddenly felt warm breath on her neck and she whirled around, cigarette dangling from the corner of her pretty red lips.

  “Need a light?” the handsome doctor asked, holding up a match with a big grin on his handsome face. He had redressed, but his white dress shirt was still unbuttoned and untucked. Suspenders hung carelessly off his hips.

  She smiled gratefully up at him as he struck the match against the dresser and watched as it blazed to life. Tucking his hand guardedly around the flame, he lit her cigarette while looking into her blue eyes. She sucked greedily on it, closing her eyes as she inhaled.

  The man grabbed his hat off the dresser and walked to the door.

  “Well, doll, I’ll be seein’ ya. Same time next Friday?” he asked, placing the derby on his head as his hand rested on the doorknob.

  She forced a smile and nodded, blowing smoke out of the side of her mouth. “See you then.”

  He blew her a kiss right before he closed the door behind him.

  She quickly lost the smile and frowned, disgusted with him, but more with herself. She felt a little bad about telling him they were on for next week when she knew she wouldn’t be meeting him next Friday. She wouldn’t even be in the state of Illinois next Friday. He was married anyway; he should be at home, not out in this seedy hotel with her, paying for it. She suddenly no longer felt bad.

  At least she had a place to stay tonight. Anything was better than that apartment she shared with the other… working girls. She crushed out the cigarette in an ashtray and untied the robe, letting it flutter to the floor. She slipped back into the defiled bed and pulled the covers over her head to block out the flashes of red.

  The following Thursday night, after she’d turned her last trick with a sixty-year-old (very married) attorney, she stuffed all of her worldly belongings into a suitcase, along with the three thousand dollars she had saved, and boarded a train, headed for Los Angeles, California.

  Sitting on the train, a blissful smile lit up her face as she thought about the new life she was going to start in L.A. She vowed she would never turn another trick. She was taking control of her life and she was going to do it right. She was only twenty-two years old. She had her whole life ahead of her.

  She gazed out at the landscape that whizzed by as the train loudly chugged along, heading south on the western railway. Her reflection caught her attention. Her golden blonde hair was sleeked into waves and her bright red lipstick struck out against her pale reflection. Her blue eyes stared back at her, promising things would change. Things in L.A. would be different. Now that her father was dead, there was nothing left for her in Chicago; not that she’d kept in touch with the bastard anyway. A frown found her face and she looked at her reflection once again in the train window and decided that there would be no more frowns for her. A new life, and hopefully love, would be waiting for her in the city she had heard so much about. A bustling city with lots of jobs and wonderful weather. A city that knew nothing of her and her dark, ugly past.

  She would be a complete stranger in Los Angeles. No past, no reputation, no disapproving eyes staring at her from behind the bar or while taking her order at a restaurant as she waited for a client. Oh no. Los Angeles was her new beginning; her fresh start.

  A genuine, lippy smile found her perfect red mouth and she looked at her reflection again and decided today was the first day of the rest of her life.

  ∞∞∞

  The Island of Nymph, Gulf of Mexico – Present Day

  A warm gush of air wafted through the hut, blowing her hair into her face. She brushed it away with an annoyed huff, then fished through the pocket of her purple dress for a rubber band. She was delighted to find one and quickly whipped her thick brown hair up into a ponytail.

  Everything was annoying her lately. Her hair in her face, the heat of the island, which was way too warm, and the constant feeling of being off-balance. But most annoying was her failure to find a cure for her condition. Time was running out and she couldn’t bear what came next if she didn’t figure it out.

  With her mother’s spell book sprawled open on the table before her, she flipped through it slowly, for the hundredth time, knowing the right mixture must be right in front of her. She’d been there for hours, but nothing was coming to her. She blew out a breath and slammed the book closed and rested her hand on it. The child inside her shifted slowly within its confined space, reminding her that just like the baby was running out of room, she was running out of time.

  “Queen,” said a voice.

  Malina whipped around to find Bill, Captain of the Guards on the island, standing in the doorway.

  She forced a smile. “Hello, Bill. How are you?”

  “I’m great.” He pointed to her belly. “I was just about to ask how you’re doing.”

  She looked down and rubbed her stomach. “Good, just uncomfortable. I’m so warm all the time.”

  “Well, it’s September, still summer here in the Gulf,” he smiled.

  “What can I do for you?”

  He grinned sheepishly. “Oh yes, sorry. I hate to ask, but Seth is asking to see you again.”

  She was in no mood for the depressed shapeshifter, but she knew it would make the guards’ duty easier if she were to appease the inmate by going to see him. He probably had another unreasonable request.

  “Of course, Bill. Be right there.”

  He dipped his head and closed the door.

  She gathered her things, placing the spell book back in her satchel and, making sure the fridge was still stocked with vampire blood, she closed it and then flipped out the light to the small lab.

  She squinted as the sun hit her in the face. The sugar white sand felt like hot silk under her bare feet as she waddled over to the makeshift island jail. She stepped inside, the cool stone walls providing relief from the sun.

  “Right this way,” said Bill.

  Nick, the other guard, was sitting at a table, munching on a sandwich and watching a DVD on a small portable television. He stood up. “Your majesty,” he smiled, turning red.

  She laughed. “Hello, Nick. No need to get up. And no need for such formalities, my dear.”

  He nodded and waited until she and Bill had left the room before sitting back down and finishing his peanut butter sandwich.

  Bill led her silently down a hallway to the shifters’ cells, stopping in front of Seth’s. Bill stood silently next to her with his arms resting behind his back.

  “Hello, Seth. How are you?” She immediately cringed internally at her choice of words.

  He sprung up from the stone bench he had been sitting on, reading yet another tattered paperback. As if it were possible, he looked even worse than the last time. How he could have possibly dropped any more weight seemed unimaginable. Large, dark bags shaded his eyes. His hair was shaggy, his face unshaven. He eyed her protruding belly with surprise and mustered a smile. “Miss Malina, congratulations. Boy or girl? ”

  Her face softened at his appearance, but was serious as she ignored the question. “What can I do for you, Seth?”

  She was shocked when he got down on one knee. “I’m begging you to let us out of jail. We cannot live or exist like this. We need to hunt and shift.”

  “Yes, you explained this to us the last time we were here. Your little confession about your Alcatraz escape also has not been forgotten. You pulled quite the stunt in 1937. If anything, we should have sentenced you to more time.”

  He let out a ragged breath. “Yes, but don’t you see? That’s why we escaped in the first place. We could handle doing time on that island, even the violence of the other
prisoners – in fact, we actually found it amusing to fight with the humans. It was almost fun. But we couldn’t shift, it was killing us slowly. The same thing is happening here. We’re starving.”

  “Then I suggest you eat what the guards serve.”

  “In their defense, my queen, they do eat, every bit of it. We have even been increasing their portions, yet they seem to be wasting away,” Bill interjected.

  She looked at him and nodded, then walked to Malachi’s cell, where he was standing at the bars, eavesdropping. He looked just as bad as Seth. Malachi was tall, probably six-foot-five, but hunched over in a defeated posture, he barely stood six feet tall. He was haggard-looking and very thin. He smiled weakly at her as he pushed a strand of greasy black hair behind his ear.

  She walked back to Seth’s cell and eyed him curiously. “If we allowed you to shift in your cell, would this make you healthier?”

  “I don’t know, but I doubt it. We need to hunt and we need blood, like the vampires,” he answered.

  “So a bag of blood per week and allowing you to shift once a month under the full moon would not cure your condition? You’re telling me you physically need to hunt for your own food? I’m sorry, but that sounds like a load of malarkey to me.”

  He let out a humorless laugh and got up from his kneeling position to sit back on the bench. He slung his long arms over his knees and folded his hands. Without looking at her, the smile left his face as he whispered, “It’s not. We are ill and will not be better until we are freed. This is cruel and unusual punishment; inhumane.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Well it’s good you’re not human, then.”

  He shook his head then looked at her, tears pooling in his green eyes as a strand of greasy blonde hair hung over his right eye. “I’m begging you. I’ve lost Sheena, I’m in hell as it is. No amount of jail time will even come close to the suffering I’ve endured.”