She smiled back at him as he bowed to her. Willa curtsied with a slight incline of her head.
“Your Graceand Lady Willa,” Kristoff said, still smiling as if he knew a joke but didn’t want to share. “Welcome.”
Willa wished she could read his thoughts.
“Good day, Lord Arendal,” Willa said as he took her hand and kissed her knuckles. With his touch, her smile wavered as a surge of cold filled her veins. She’d have expected heat, but the cold was refreshing, rejuvenating.
He winked at her. “I’m pleased that you were able to make it.”
“We wouldn’t dream of missing it,” Duchess Ely said. “Speaking of dreaming, I need to speak to your dear mother. She mentioned having trouble sleeping at our last luncheon. I may have a remedy for her.”
Lord Arendal nodded. “Lovely. She and my sisters are toward the back of the hall.” He leaned in and whispered. “They like to linger near the table of cakes.”
Willa covered her mouth as a laugh escaped her lips. Her mother left them to seek out the Dargaard women. She wondered what potion the duchess planned to give Kristoff’s mother, but the way he looked at her was more pressing at the moment.
“So,” Lord Arendal began, moving closer to Willa, so close that she couldn’t help but blush. He whispered into her ear, causing her skin to heat and her eyes to flutter closed. “Now that we are all alone, who is going to protect you from me?”
4
Chills ran up Willa’s exposed skin at Kristoff’s remark. No man had ever spoken to her in such a manner. For a moment, she was left speechless.
He laughed at her, and rubbed his chin with his knuckles. “I didn’t mean to offend you, my lady,” he said.
Willa cleared her throat and looked from side to side. Everyone stared at them. The whispers. She heard them clearly. She knew what the other guests were thinking, how they probably envied her for capturing the attention of one of the most eligible bachelors in the county.
Instead of showing her embarrassment, Willa leaned right into him and narrowed her eyes. “No, my lord. You’re alone with me.”
Lord Arendal’s eyes widened. An amused smile came to his lips. “Well,” he said, extending his arm. “In that case, what say you we enjoy the night air?”
Willa grinned as she accepted the invitation. “Let’s.”
With her arm locked around his, Willa and Lord Arendal attracted more attention as they left the main ballroom and exited to the garden.
“You’re not worried someone will think it improper?”
Willa glanced at the young Earl. “A lady can have a conversation with a gentleman in the presence of others,” she said, nodding to the scant groups of ladies and gentlemen enjoying the gas lamps set around the back courtyard. “Besides, my family cares little what others think. We run this county, if you haven’t heard.”
Lord Arendal lifted a brow. “I see. The Averys are in for a bit of competition.”
“Is that so?” Willa paused at the edge of the stairs that led down to a white path that stretched far into the horizon, past the rectangular pond, exquisite shrubbery designs, and lamps that lit the way.
“Why? Are you worried?”
“Not at all. My father outranks yours.” Her voice was teasing, for a moment. Then her smile faded as she caught a whiff of something.
Willa’s blood ran cold as she peered at the night sky. It was a clear evening, with stars that shone as bright as the full moon. Her heart thumped in her chest as the scent of something unnatural came to her on the soft breeze.
The scent was unmistakable. It was the one thing that made Willa want to gag.
Blood.
Willa’s right eye twitched. Every fiber of her body ignited with warnings as she stood there, desperate for answers as to what awaited in the darkness below.
“Willa?”
Kristoff’s voice was too far away to grab her attention. Not now. She inhaled, deeply, and closed her eyes.
“Kelser,” Willa whispered inside her head. A light shone in the darkness of her subconscious. Like a candle, it wavered and flickered like the fire in the Spirt Witch’s castle, soon to be Willa’s new home. What she’d seen in the Spirit Room would never fade from her memory. While terrifying, she could draw strength from it.
“Illias,” Willa called, and another light joined that of Kelser’s.
In unison, her soul familiars answered. “Yes, Master?”
When Willa opened her eyes, all she saw was blood and the dead bodies of the partygoers.
A premonition.
If she didn’t act quickly, her vision would become reality.
“Find it,” she hissed aloud. “Find it, now.”
Someone grabbed Willa by the arm, waking her from her trance.
“Willa?”
Lord Arendal looked down at her, worry in his eyes. She realized that he held her up by her arms. Shaking her head, she removed herself from his grasp.
“Are you all right? Shall I call the doctor?”
“No,” Willa said, more forcefully than she’d intended. Before she could speak another word, her soul familiars returned, slamming into her body with such force that she had to grip Lord Arendal to keep herself steady.
“What is wrong?”
“Vampires,” Kelser and Illias said in unison. “Two.”
Willa’s eyes widened, and she kicked off her shoes. With one glance back at Kristoff, she licked her lips and shook her head. “I wish I could tell you.”
Then, she ran down the stairs, her dress bunched in her fists to keep from tripping on the lace fabric at the hem. As she ran down the stairs and to the pathway, she suddenly wished she’d told her mother and perhaps the Lesters.
There were nine witches on the grounds, two of them Elite Casters. Whoever the vampires were, they’d picked the wrong party to crash.
Yet, Willa ran headfirst to defeat them.
Alone.
The hush of the night filled her ears as she focused on deciphering where the vampires were. The thought that they were in her territory enraged her.
Her land. Her people. Didn’t they know any better?
Something caught her attention from the trees to her left. Willa froze, her heightened senses alert.
Thuds on the ground. She could feel the vibration beneath her bare feet.
Running. She lifted a brow. Someone was running. Very fast.
At that thought, something ran into her and lifted her from the ground. Willa’s mouth opened as the wind was knocked out of her. Whatever held her pushed her across the garden and into the trees on the other side of the grounds. A whoosh of cool air slapped her face as she flew through the air and was slammed into the grass.
“Well,” a female voice hissed. “Don’t you look delicious?”
It took a moment for Willa to regain her vision. The blow to the back of her head made her dizzy as she sat up.
The vampire placed a foot on Willa’s chest, pressing her into the dirt.
Willa coughed and struggled to see who stood above her.
“Frightening, isn’t it? You’ll never see my face. It’s a little trick I just learned.”
The vampire reeked of blood. As she knelt down to bring her face close to Willa’s the stench intensified.
“What’s this?” A male voice called from the shadows.
Willa’s head lolled to the right to see him. The vampire had swarthy skin and long black hair, and Willa had never seen him before. That wasn’t surprising, though. They didn’t come out during the day, and she’d never seen him at an evening event. The lilt in his accent hinted that he was Italian.
“Marco. You’re still too slow.”
“Do not tease me,” Marco replied. “What do you have there?”
“Our second course of the evening, love,” the female said with a chuckle as she sniffed Willa’s neck. “Come, smell her. She is divine.”
Give me strength, Willa whispered to Kelser and Illias.
Yes, Master.
“Gesù Cristo,” Marco said.
Willa shot him a glance. “A vampire, calling for Jesus Christ? He cannot save you today.”
“Stop,” the female said. “Who are you?”
“Willa Avery, Grand Elite Caster, future queen of the European coven, future delegate of witch affairs for the Netherworld Division.”
“Jesus Christ is right,” the female said. “Please. We didn’t know.”
Willa pulled her up to eye level. “How did you not know? This is Elite Caster territory, and we do not tolerate death to any human or witch within our borders.”
She nodded, tears in her eyes. Willa could finally get a glimpse of the vampire’s face as whatever power she’d used waned. She had dark brown hair, and brown eyes that matched Marco’s. Realization that they weren’t lovers hit Willa.
They were siblings.
“Please. I beg of you. We were just turned days ago. No one taught us the rules,” she whined. “We didn’t ask for this.”
Willa’s brows lifted. “Days ago?”
Both young vampires nodded. “We are waiting for our master to come back for us. We were hungry. But he is cruel, and he wishes to watch us suffer.”
The way her self-assured demeanor shifted to that of a scolded child turned Willa’s stomach. How could she kill them if they truly didn’t know the rules set between humans and vampires? The Netherworld Division must be notified, as well as her coven.
Willa sensed that dark times were on the horizon.
“Leave,” Willa ordered while the vampire struggled to free her hair from her tight grasp. “If I see you again, or hear of any trespassing, I will be forced to hunt you down and execute you both.”
With that, she dropped the vampire to the ground, and within seconds, they ran as fast as the wind, presumably as far away from the Dargaard estate as possible..
Lowering herself back to the ground, Willa straightened her dress. It was no use, grass and dirt had smeared her lovely red satin and lace. She frowned at the hole in her hem.
“Willa,” a voice called from behind her.
Stiffening, Willa’s face drained of color. She slowly turned to look behind her.
There, in the trees, stood Lord Arendal.
The look of disbelief on his face left her desperate to run away.
“Kristoff,” she said, breathing his name in a whisper, saying it aloud for the first time. “How long have you been there?”
He emerged from the darkness of the trees and stood before her. Willa shook as she awaited his response. It took an eternity as she watched him rake his hands through his hair, start to speak, then snap his mouth shut. He finally looked down at her and shook his head. For a moment, it seemed that he read her soul.
If he had, he would have run away as quickly as he could.
“Lord Arendal?” When he didn’t answer, she tried again. “Kristoff?”
He sighed and took her hands into his. “I saw it all. Heard it all.”
Tears welled in her eyes. So much for a kind and handsome husband worthy of uniting with her family. At the least, so much for a new friend.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Instead of turning away from her, he stroked her cheeks and wiped away her tears.
“No,” he said, softly. “Do not apologize.”
Willa opened her eyes. “Why?”
Kristoff kissed her forehead. “I want to know everything. I want to know all there is to know about Willa Avery, the girl to whom my father is currently arranging my marriage .”
Those words reached a dark piece of Willa’s soul and brightened it. The smile that came to her lips seemed to take over her face.
“Really? Are you certain?”
He nodded. “Yes,” said, smiling. “Really.”
The quiet of the night gave Willa more courage than she’d had at the beginning of the evening. She rose on her toes and pressed her lips onto Kristoff’s.
With his arms wrapped around her, and the taste of his mouth, Willa realized that more than her power and resolve for fighting evil had been awakened that night.
A small spark deep within her heart was also awakened, and she feared it would never slumber.
The End
About K.N.
K.N. Lee is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who resides in Charlotte, North Carolina. When she is not writing twisted tales, fantasy novels, and dark poetry, she does a great deal of traveling and promotes other authors. Wannabe rockstar, foreign language enthusiast, and anime geek, K.N. Lee also enjoys helping others reach their writing and publishing goals. She is a winner of the Elevate Lifestyle Top 30 Under 30 “Future Leaders of Charlotte” award for her success as a writer and business owner, and for community service.
She is signed with Captive Quill Press and Patchwork Press.
K.N. Lee loves hearing from fans and readers. Connect with her!
www.knlee.com
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Silence kept her alive. Magic will set her free.
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Despite the fame and recognition that came with this discovery, the fact remains: Willa was forced by the vampire king of the West to create the one thing she could have used to kill him.
After hiding from the king and his spies for years, she’s tired of living in the shadows. She vows to end his reign of terror and return to the man she was stolen from a century ago.
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Gavin’s Gamble
Nicole Zoltack
1
The heady scent of meaty lasagna wafts through our bedroom door. I’m trying to concentrate on my book—the latest Star Wars novel—but my stomach growls. Loudly.
Natalie, my sister, thirteen-going-on-thirty, huffs. “Can you not do that?”
“Do what?”
She’s sitting on her bed, hand-sewing details onto a shirt. Some might mock her for it, I’m sure, but she doesn’t care, and she shouldn’t. She’s got serious talent. Like one day, models could be wearing her clothes strutting down runways talented.
Not that I would tell her. Personally, I’m just glad she’s not using her dinosaur of a sewing machine anymore. Listening to that clattering thump makes it impossible to concentrate on reading about Star Destroyers.
Most guys would hate having to share a room with their sister, and honestly there are times when I can’t stand it, but we’re stuck in this two-room apartment until a three-bedroom place opens up, hopefully any day now.
“It’s not like I burped. You should be happy,” I tease from behind my book.
“Gavin Venator, you’re so gross.” She lowers her half-completed shirt. It’s purple. And glittery. So glittery. “You’re sixteen. Don’t you think you sh
ould be… mature?”
“I’m a growing boy. I’m—”
“Soon you aren’t gonna grow any taller, just wider.”
I grin. “At least I’m five feet something. Oh, wait, make that six feet.”
Natalie scowls. “You know I’m taller than five feet!”
“Oh, that half inch is really—“
“You know what? I’m not gonna make you anything for your birthday.”
I roll my eyes. My birthday isn’t for another six months. “That’s all right. You were probably gonna put a unicorn on it.”
“I would never waste a unicorn print on you! You’re not cool enough for one.” She sticks out her tongue.
I laugh. “And it would probably sparkle. And be some weird color like aquamarine.”
“Aquamarine is not a weird color. Actually…” She rubs her chin, the wheels turning. “That would work with your eyes. Mine, too. Oh…” Natalie grabs the notepad from her side table and starts to scribble, barely containing her girly squeals.
There’s no point in trying to continue my teasing. When she gets in the zone, she will not stop.
Thankfully, our mom calls us down two minutes later. Even better, she’s already filled our plates, and I’m grabbing my fork.
“Gavin,” my mom says warningly, her eyebrows lowering over her deep blue eyes—same as me and Natalie. “Wait for your father.”
With great reluctance, I lower my fork.
“Wider,” Natalie mouths from her seat across from me.
“What’s your favorite color this week?” Grinning, before she can respond, I add, “Puke green?”
Mom taps me gently upside the head. “Be nice.”
“At least I don’t like soulless black!” Natalie counters.
I shrug. “Black goes with everything.”
“It’s too hot to wear black all the time, and you make me feel all gross just looking at you,” she complains.
Not Just Voodoo Page 20
