Alphas Unwrapped: 21 New Steamy Paranormal Tales of Shifters, Vampires, Werewolves, Dragons, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More

by Michele Bardsley

  The seniors had brought the DVD of the recital for her to watch later today as they ate pumpkin pie, but they’d reassured her it had gone off without a hitch and Clive was the best Christmas tree ever.

  Finn held up a forkful of mashed potatoes smothered in gravy, enticing her to open her mouth. “If you want to be my wife, you’ll need a strong constitution, Ms. Meadows. Now eat up. I can’t have you falling down on the job. Oh, and did I tell you how crazy I am about you yet today?”

  She giggled. “I can’t remember. You pumped me so full of Nyquil last night, I’m still sort of fuzzy.”

  “Phew, I guess that means I don’t have to keep my promise.”

  She sat up straight and took the fork from him, swallowing the mashed potatoes and said, “You made a promise to me while I was on drugs, Finn Donovan? No fair! Fess up or this ninja’s going to poke your gorgeous eyes out.”

  He snapped his fingers and held out his hand, palm up, where a small black box appeared.

  Finn popped it open and grinned. “Fine. But I want you to know I’m doing this under duress. So, last night I promised that I’d find the ring I was going to give you the night of our engagement party.”

  She remembered. The one he’d said had to be sized to fit her and had still been at the jeweler’s right up until the day of their engagement party, where he’d claimed he was going to put it on her finger. But she’d never had the chance to actually see it before he disappeared.

  Tears began to fill her eyes as the room grew silent with expectation. Forks stopped midair, and all chatter ceased.

  “Oh, Finn…it’s perfect,” she breathed.

  Finn brushed the hair from her face. “A lot like you. Cozette Meadows, will you marry me?”

  No one even waited for her to say yes, everyone was too busy cheering and using the bright red napkins to dry their eyes.

  But she didn’t need to say a word as he slipped the ring on her finger and pulled her close.

  Cozy kissed him instead, long and hard—and that was all the answer either of them would ever need.

  The End

  Thank you so much for reading! I hope you’ll come back for more of Paris, Texas, and its witches and join the very hot Austin Pembroke in Witch Slapped, coming in the winter of 2016!

  From my heart to yours, happy holidays and a blessed New Year!

  Dakota Cassidy XXOO

  About The Author

  Dakota Cassidy is the nationally bestselling author of over thirty books. She lives in the gorgeous state of Oregon with her real life hero and her dogs, and she loves hearing from readers!

  Connect with Dakota online:

  Twitter: @DakotaCassidy

  Facebook: Dakota Cassidy Fan Page

  My Website: http://dakota324.wix.com/dakotacassidy

  Nether Blue

  By Claudy Conn

  http://www.claudyconn.com

  Copyright © 2015 by Claudy Conn

  Edited by: Karen Babcock

  Artist: Dawn Sullivan

  All rights reserved

  October 2015

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Names, characters, and events depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  Prologue

  Calico

  LYLA’S AGED FINGERS clutched mine. Her faded blue eyes still had that sense of self—and authority—that were so uniquely hers. “Calico, get out of here. Go—you know where. It is all in readiness for you. I knew this day would come.”

  “I’m not leaving you!” How could I go without her? How could I leave her here to face … him?

  Lyla had found me when I was not much more than five in human years. She’d always told me that the moment she touched me she knew what I was; even so, she’d taken me in. Now I know she knew more, so much more.

  She had been mother, mentor, friend, and I owed it to her to stay and fight. I owed it to her to stand and face Warren Dreede. I could use the power that I had already acquired to keep him at bay for at least a while, until she regained her strength.

  Lyla’s voice was weak, weaker than it should have been as she released my hand and said, “Callie, my own dear girl. You knew this day would come. He won’t stop until he has you. He has taken our coven for his own, and now he needs you to complete his goals. You have to go where he can’t find you until Christmas … until your birthday. You know if he finds you now, he will eat you alive. There will be nothing left but a shell.”

  “But, dearest … how can I leave you?” Tears freely rolled down and stained my cheeks. How could she expect me to leave without her? “Come with me.”

  “I can’t. I have something for you. Forgive me, but I was sworn to keep it from you until absolutely necessary. Take it … you need to know … it is yours …”

  A note materialized before my eyes, and I took it into my hand and frowned. “What is this?”

  “It was given to me on the day I found you,” she said softly. “Now, leave the reading of it till later. Warren has a line on my magic. I can feel his intrusion—he’s close this time—and he’ll track my magical residue to us, but he can’t seem to pick up on yours. Something about your magical residue is shielded. What you need to do …” She took a long breath. “… is keep hidden for the next two months. Do what we discussed. There isn’t time to argue … and I don’t have the strength.”

  “No, if I leave you here he will torture you to find out where I am. So what is the point in leaving you behind? Did you think of that?” I was practically shouting with frustration. “I won’t leave you.”

  Lyla sighed and gave me one last smile. “Yes, Callie, I did think of that. Warren won’t get the chance to torture this old witch. Ah, dearest child, you have been the light in my life. This is my time to go home, Callie—my time. I am not immortal like you. Cancer and age have caught up with me. And I chose to pick my time. I won’t last much longer. I can feel the poison taking me … but, Callie, with my last breath, I want you … you … to … know … love … you.” She closed her eyes, laid her head back on the pillow, and was gone. I screamed her name before I fell over her and cried like a baby.

  She didn’t hear me.

  She was gone … I couldn’t believe she was gone.

  I am not given to displays of emotion, but I was so angry. I screamed to the heavens, and I cried, and I don’t know how long it was before I sniffed back my tears and used a quilt to cover the only mother I could remember.

  I was choked up and hoped that somewhere her spirit could hear me. “Okay, Lyla … okay. I won’t let your death be for nothing, but when I am whole, he won’t have to find me. I will find him, and he will suffer before I send him to the hell he belongs in.”

  She had taken her own life so that I could survive.

  I had to survive to honor her.

  If I left now, I wouldn’t even be there for her burial.

  The coven, even though we’d had a falling out, would see to it. They would feel her death, and they would come for her body. They still cared about and respected Lyla.

  Besides, it was a written law that all coven members adhered to.

  I should be there, but if I attended, I wouldn’t be able to escape Dreede.

  I picked up my backpack and slipped Ebony into my back waistband. According to Lyla I’d been clutching my wand the day she found me. When Lyla’d said it was a pretty wand and
asked if she could hold it, I informed her—politely but firmly, Lyla always said with a chuckle when she told me the story—that the wand’s name was Ebony and that she preferred to stay with me. And for the past sixteen years, Ebony had never been far from my hand.

  I threw some more clothes into my bag, sobbing all the while as I hurriedly glanced around and said my final good-bye.

  Money wasn’t a problem. Lyla had transferred everything into a secret account in Ireland under my new name. She had been planning this for years. Her gift of premonition had told her that one day we would be on the run.

  Passport and credit cards were already taken care of.

  All I needed to do was cloak my movements with a magical shield that was uniquely my own.

  I waved my wand over myself and whispered the words that would give me enough protection to keep Dreede from tracking my immediate movements.

  He was skilled, though, and one day he would break through my shield.

  I went back to Lyla’s covered body and kissed her cheek. I wished we’d had more time. No matter how long you have with a loved one, when you lose them you realize your time with them was not enough. I know, for I’d had that sense of loss about my parents, even though memories of my life before Lyla were hazy.

  Everything about the house we had been living was unfamiliar. We had only been there a week and had not even settled in. We knew better—Warren would find us if we made our living quarters personal.

  We had been running from Warren for months, moving from city to city, never putting down the kind of roots that would give our location away.

  Now, the time had come for me to totally vanish.

  I might not have reached my magical majority, but I was more potent than any witch I knew. Also, there was something very unusual about my magic—as there was about Ebony. But Lyla was right: I wasn’t strong enough—yet—to defeat Warren on my own.

  I just never thought I’d have to; I always thought we’d face him together.

  I’d known she wasn’t feeling well, but she said it was just our latest move catching up with her. Why didn’t she tell me the cancer was back? Because, I realized, she knew I would insist on taking her to a hospital, would insist they contact the clinic in our hometown for her records—the clinic where Sally, one Warren’s followers, worked. Instead, she made sure Warren didn’t get that advantage. Now I needed to do my part; I had to go.

  I stepped outside and shivered in New York City’s November chill. November had only begun, but it was already quite cold. I thought of Christmas not so far off, and how Lyla wouldn’t be there. I couldn’t remember a Christmas without her. I nearly broke down again but caught myself.

  I walked a good distance until I was in the heart of the theatre district, where I hailed a cab. The crowds would disguise my activities even if I were being tracked. It was time to head on over to Kennedy.

  I would turn twenty-one on Christmas Day. At least I knew that much about myself. Lyla had said that was all that was attached to my sweater when she found me: a note with my name—Calico—and my birth date.

  She had given me that simple note when I’d asked for it as a child, but she had never mentioned the one she had just given me, now tucked away. I wanted to read it, but I would leave it till I reached my destination. Somehow, I didn’t think sitting next to a stranger on a seven-hour flight to Dublin was the right place for it.

  One day soon, I swore under my breath, I would take on the evil son of a bitch. I would take on Warren Dreede, and I would find a way to torture and kill him for this day’s work.

  He considered himself one of the earth’s darkest and most powerful warlocks. Well, I was going to teach him what Lyla had taught me—dark magic could never outdo light magic.

  Right now, however, I was on the run.

  Chapter One

  OUTSIDE THE TINY village of Tully, north of Dublin, sat an old and modestly sized abbey known as Tullfont Abbey.

  It was gray limestone and had a many-tiered roofline. To me, it looked like a miniature castle. I’d loved it on sight.

  I remember the first time I saw it. I’d said right out loud what I thought, which was, “Whoa.” I had been fifteen at the time.

  When Lyla and I had come across it, Warren Dreede didn’t even exist in our peaceful world. Our coven was led by Lyla, and it was an important part of our simple and full life. We were practicing witches of the ‘light’. Dark magic was a taboo.

  Yet, even then, when we traveled to Ireland, Lyla had been secretive about our movements. She’d told our coven we were going on holiday to Italy. She never mentioned Ireland to a soul and asked me to keep mum on the subject as well. When I questioned her about the secrecy, all she would tell me was, “This will be in your future, and there is no need for anyone to know what lies ahead except the two of us.”

  I accepted that. I accepted everything Lyla taught and told me.

  After my exclamation about the abbey, Lyla had smiled and said, “This is the place.”

  We hadn’t looked at any other places. We had come to this one, and we had come without a real estate agent. I was only fifteen, but that surprised me, and I had asked, “Who does this belong to? How did you know about it?”

  Lyla had smiled and whispered, “This belongs to you, Calico. It always has.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  She laughed and said, “Never mind. You needn’t concern yourself with business matters. You can leave that for me.” She clasped her hands and said, “This is perfect.”

  “Perfect for what?” It didn’t surprise me that Lyla was so reticent with the facts. She was always stuck in mystery. I always put it down to her premonitions.

  “For your future. Tullfont has everything you need,” she replied, and that was all the answer I got from her.

  The abbey had been in need of repair, however, and Lyla went right to work, hiring carpenters and masons. A touch of magic did the rest.

  She spent a great deal of time in the attic but didn’t let me up there. Instead, she stuck a paintbrush in my hand and set me to work. I didn’t mind.

  “There are things here meant for another day,” she explained when we left to continue our holiday. I watched her place a concealment spell in the attic and a protection spell around the house.

  I was fifteen and anxious to move on and resume our tour of Europe, so I shrugged it off and gave it no more serious thought.

  Later, after Warren Dreede’s duplicitous and hostile takeover of our coven, Lyla whispered that one day we would have to hide and that Tullfont would be where we would go.

  By that time, I was eighteen and knew enough about what was going on around me to understand the significance of Lyla’s actions. I had come to see that Warren was a treacherous man who wore the clothes of friendship but held a dagger at his back.

  Lyla’s premonitions had allowed her to make some savvy investments, and she had, over the years, accumulated great wealth. As a white witch, she used her instincts to guide her purchases in the stock market and squirreled a great deal of cash away as well. So money had never been a problem.

  I had everything I needed because in the last few months Lyla had transferred everything we had to my alias. She prepared an entire new identity for me and—I had thought—for herself.

  I parked the little Escort I had purchased in Dublin in front of the wide portico of the abbey. I had only visited Tullfont twice, but whenever I did it felt like home—not sure why.

  The abbey, the grounds, everything looked wonderful because of Lyla’s foresight. She had seen to the renovations, coming here on her own so as not to draw the attention of Warren, whose focus was always on me.

  Grief was weighing me down, and I saw Lyla with every move I made. She should have been here with me.

  I got out of the car and stood, a heaviness filling my lungs and a silent tear sliding down my cheek.

  Warren had never bothered me while I was at college. It all started after my graduation in
the spring. His aggressive moves on me had increased markedly back in May.

  In June, Lyla said we had to go.

  When I pushed her for answers, she told me she knew that Warren was no longer prepared to leave me be. He had told her he meant to marry me in a special ceremony that summer.

  We packed everything up, closed our home, and, under the pretext of ‘vacationing’, began jumping from city to city.

  I always thought Lyla would be with me when the time came to hide away at Tullfont.

  I chewed my bottom lip, took the short, blue stone steps to the beautiful lead-paned glass and oak door, and put the key into the lock.

  I pushed it open tentatively and stepped inside.

  The floors were all hardwood, with throw rugs placed practically and decoratively both in the wide central hall and down its long corridor adjacent to the wide staircase.

  Everything smelled of new and clean.

  I took a quick tour of the library, just off the central hall, and then went across to the huge drawing room. Down the long hall to the kitchen and dining room. My, but Lyla had done a magnificent job restoring the old place. It was all so beautiful and welcoming.

  I hurried upstairs to my bedroom. I had chosen it when I was seventeen on one of my two secret visits to the abbey—before Warren. Yes, I have a ‘before and after Warren’ time table.

  I had chosen the room—or had it chosen me? Not sure about that one.

  What I remember is being drawn to it, seeing the plaque on the door that denoted it as The Blue Room, and thinking that no other room at the abbey had a name.

  So that had sold it for me.

  Now, I opened the door to find it updated and freshly painted, with a beautiful quilt and pillows of blue and mauve on the queen-sized bed. Lovely drapes were hung and tethered back to display the panoramic window overlooking acres and acres of land. The bathroom was huge, modern, and charmingly decorated, and the large, luxurious whirlpool tub and shower made me smile for the first time in two days. I so needed a long, hot bath.