Mandy M. Roth - Magic Under Fire (Over a Dozen Tales of Urban Fantasy)

by Unknown

  “Oui.”

  “How are you here?”

  “I watch over her, Ivon. You said it yourself, I am her spirit guide. But I am more than that to her. It was I who went to the gods upon my death, choosing not to seek vengeance on you but to repay another man’s kindness.” Francy felt her hand lifting as she pointed back at Dante but knew that it wasn’t she who controlled the action. “Dante did nothing other than act as an ear for my concerns about you. He agreed to help me try to reach you through the demon that had taken control.”

  Ivon snarled, his face twisting as it partially shifted into its vampire form. “You lie.”

  “Ivon, you feel the truth of my words. Dante was your best friend. He only wanted to help you find your way back to me—to our child. To try to pin my murder upon him was beyond a betrayal. Had the High Council not discovered you were working for the Dark Council, Dante would have been executed.”

  “They should have killed him.”

  “No.” The force within Francy did its best to soothe her as it revealed things she did not know. “He deserved to live, to be happy. You know this is true, Ivon. Look deep within and you will find the answer there.”

  Ivon rolled his eyes, still seeming confused by it all.

  “That is why I went to the gods, Ivon. I told them every tiny detail that I had ever heard Dante reveal to you about what he wanted in his mate. Each time you would talk with him, pry information about what he wanted in a woman, I listened. And I remembered.”

  An odd feeling of peace, of absolute happiness surged through Francy and she knew that the spirit that spoke through her was proud of her decision to go to the gods. “I told them and they listened with open minds and hearts. Once they deemed the threat you posed to his future mate was long past, they created her. They sent her spirit forth to be born unto this earth. She was created for him, made to be everything he had ever wanted and so very much more. It is something the gods hold sacred, Ivon. Something they insisted I help guard. I was sent the day she came into her powers to watch over her, to keep her from being harmed by you or any like you.”

  The wicked laugh that came from Ivon made Francy shiver. Edeline didn’t seem fazed by it. “I know the thoughts that now run through your head, Ivon. You think that Dante’s mate did not love him enough to resist you. That is not true. I did not know that I was able to push my will on her or that Francy was sensitive enough to respond to it. When I saw you, I could not stop myself. I went to you. It was natural for her to follow. It was my need to see the goodness in you once again that blinded her to everything—that gave you access to her bed. Not her own. She has loved only one man and she now calls him her husband.”

  “No.” Shock was evident on Ivon’s face. As much as Francy feared him, she also felt fear for him. If he couldn’t fight his demon for the woman he truly loved—Edeline—then he had little hope of being reached now. She wanted him to fight it, to push his demon down, but she wanted her child’s safety more.

  “Ivon, did you know that she called Dante every free moment she had? Did you know that her heart hurt the day you asked for her hand and I was so taken with your kindness and warmth that I pushed her to say yes? She spent the next day in tears, knowing that her heart belonged to another but too confused to realize what was happening.”

  The shock of it all hit Francy as she listened to the truth come forth from her own mouth. “She has always been and will only ever be in love with one man and he is restraining himself as we speak to afford me this chance at redeeming you. He does this because at one point you were his best friend, but know that he will not allow harm to come to Francy. She is his wife, the mother of his child and the only one his heart has ever belonged to. She is our gift to him, Ivon—our thank you for trying to fix us.”

  Ivon thrust his power out, pushing Edeline’s essence from Francy as he lifted her higher in the air. “If that is true then she is a gift I no longer wish him to have.”

  Francy screamed out as pain shot through her. She wanted to fight back but it was all happening too fast. Something drew upon her power quickly, using it to strike out at Ivon. He dropped her and she fell to the ground.

  Stay down!

  The command came a second before Francy would have stood. She obeyed Dante, realizing he was the one who had drawn on her powers, and stayed low to the ground. In a flash he was leaping over her, his claws unsheathed. He struck out at Ivon. Francy watched as a cloud of dust encircled Dante. Everything looked like slow motion. Her breath caught. Ivon was dead.

  Cool energy wrapped around her for a moment before Dante dropped to his knees. “Francy, are you hurt?”

  Shaking mostly from the shock of it all, she cupped his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

  “Shh, it wasn’t your fault. You loved me. You heard Edeline explain it. You didn’t betray me or our bond.” He held her tight, chasing away her inner demons. “It’s okay, Francy. They’re together again and we’re together. No one’s between us. No one’s pushing the other to something they don’t want. It’s just us.”

  A tiny tickle of power ran through her lower abdomen, instantly calming her nerves. “Well, and baby makes three.”

  Dante’s breath caught. “The baby’s fine?”

  “Yes,” she took his hand in hers and ran it over her stomach, “he’s fine.”

  “We’ll have a boy?” he asked, smiling as he lifted her into his arms. “The first of many.”

  EPILOGUE

  Dante woke to the sweet sensation of warm lips over his erect cock. As he took in the erotic sight of his wife filling her mouth with him, he slid his hands down into her long auburn locks and ground his teeth at the pleasure she was bringing him. The pleasure that she would forever bring him now that nothing stood between them. Edeline had given him a gift he could never thank her enough for. She’d given him his true love.

  The tip of his dick hit the back of Francy’s throat, yet she showed no signs of discomfort. Not even when her gag reflex kicked in, causing her mouth to water around his cock. She let out a sultry laugh as she sucked on him harder.

  Francy seemed to need to taste him every bit as much as he needed her to do it. She hummed softly over him, sending him dangerously close to the edge of filling her mouth and throat with his cum.

  “Francy.” Holding her hair gently, he tried to ease her off him but she refused to move, opting for licking him as though he were a lollipop. Each swipe was pure torture—one he hoped he would be forced to endure for centuries.

  Another throaty laugh escaped her. “Mmm, do you like that? You twitch whenever I do that.”

  Unable to think past the fact that she now had her teeth pressed to his tender flesh, scraping them against it, sending his body into a spasm, he simply nodded.

  Francy laughed again. “How about this?” She slid a finger into her tempting mouth and pulled it out, slick and wet.

  Dante watched with nothing short of rapture on his face as she tugged gently on his balls before easing her finger into his ass. Pleasure shot through him as she crooked it ever so slightly, pressing it to his prostate, filling him.

  Quickly, she covered him with her mouth in time to catch the cum that shot forth from his convulsing cock. She kept her finger in his ass, fucking him slowly as he continued to come in jetting waves down her throat. Her purring only served to drive him onwards, making him come even more than he normally would. “Enough.”

  Francy shook her head, looking every bit the siren she truly was. “It’s not nearly enough, Dante.”

  He reached down and brought her up and over his still-hard cock. Part of him wondered if he’d ever be able to satisfy his need for Francy. Somehow, he knew he never would. She was his other half and he’d never tire of her.

  As he lowered her body, allowing himself to spear her sweet pussy, he growled out. The feel of her already beginning to milk him before they’d even begun was almost too much. “Amore,” he whispered, nearly begging her to show him mercy.

  Francy presse
d her palms to his chest and sent a toe-curling surge of magik through his system. It felt as though hundreds of tiny mouths were kissing, sucking his skin. When she leaned forward and captured his lips with hers he knew that she held a power over him that no one else ever would. He may have over a century on her but she had his heart and in the end that was all that mattered.

  He probed her mouth with his tongue and her pussy with his hungry cock. Thrusting his hips upward, Dante moaned as he felt her channel grasping hold of him. Immortal as he was, as they were, he knew she would be the death of him. Her love was toxic and it was one he’d gladly accept again and again.

  Francy clawed his chest as she came with a start. Her pussy fisted his cock tightly and he gave in to the need to fill her again. She collapsed on him, her breathing shallow and her pulse speeding. “I love you, Dante.”

  “And I love you. Solo tu—only you, Francy.”

  The soft sounds of their son sleeping came over the baby monitor. He chuckled. “I love him as well, of course. As you would say, and baby makes three.”

  Kissing his collarbone, she purred slightly. “Honey, we need to change that to baby makes four.”

  “What?” Dante could hardly believe his ears. “The gods blessed us again?”

  “Are you upset?”

  “Upset that I have the woman I love in my arms, a healthy, happy son, another child on the way and an eternity with my family? No, Francy, I’m not upset. I am quite possibly the happiest man alive.”

  “So that means that you might be willing to do something spectacular with pasta for me?”

  Dante couldn’t help but pull her closer to him as he laughed. “Ah, craving again?”

  “Mmmhmm,” she nuzzled her lips to his neck and kissed him, “for pasta and you. You were more than worth the wait, Dante.”

  “As were you, amore.”

  The End

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  About the Author, Mandy M. Roth

  New York Times & USA TODAY Bestselling Author Mandy M. Roth is a self-proclaimed Goonie, loves 80s music and movies and wishes leg warmers would come back into fashion. She also thinks the movie The Breakfast Club should be mandatory viewing for...okay, everyone. When she's not dancing around her office to the sounds of the 80s or writing books, she can be found designing book covers for New York publishers, small presses, and indie authors.

  Learn More: To learn more about Mandy and her pen names, please visit http://www.mandyroth.com For latest news about Mandy’s newest releases and sales subscribe to her newsletter http://www.mandyroth.com/newsletter/

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  Thank you!

  THE WOLLSTONECRAFT LEGACY

  A BUREAU 7 NOVELLA

  SARANNA DE WYLDE

  When Dr. Elizabeth Wollstonecraft kicks off what could be a zombie apocalypse, she discovers the legacy of her name isn’t the shame she thought it was, but the ultimate weapon that calls a monster of legend to her side, and reanimates her heart.

  COPYRIGHT

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the

  publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America by

  Saranna DeWylde © 2016

  1

  K ythnos Island, Greece Bureau 7 Kythnos Installation

  DR. ELIZABETH WOLLSTONECRAFT almost jumped out of her skin when the door to the lab buzzed.

  “Hey, it’s Margie. I brought you some lunch since you didn’t make it to the mess.”

  She pressed the access button and the young, fresh-faced girl brought in an aluminum tray with a lid.

  “It’s that smoked salmon with the pineapple mango salsa you like so much. I knew you wouldn’t want to miss that.” Margie offered her a wide smile.

  “Thanks.” Elizabeth’s stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten yet. “I was really caught up in my work. I think we’re close to something big.”

  Margie leaned over and put her chin in her hands. “I can’t wait until I get play with diseases, too.”

  “Do you want to see?” Elizabeth offered her the electron microscope.

  Margie pressed her face to the eyepiece. “I have no idea what I’m looking at, but it’s cool.”

  “If it’s what I think it is, then I’ll tell you all about it.” Elizabeth grinned back at her.

  “Thanks.” The girl smiled. “You’re the only one who takes me seriously.”

  “Bureau 7 takes you seriously. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have paid for you to move to Greece and agreed to pay for school. You just have to finish your tour in ‘work study.’ All of us working class folk have to do whatever we can to pay our way. I believe in you.”

  Margie hugged her. “Don’t forget, this weekend you’re coming to the mainland with me for Tony’s birthday party.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Ah, we have company?” Dr. John Polidori emerged from his office and into the lab, smiling his too wide grin.

  Margie shivered. “I was just leaving.”

  “No tray for me, I see? I feel you just don’t love me anymore, Margie, my love.”

  “We both know you wouldn’t eat it.” Margie turned to her. “I’ll let you get back to work. See you Saturday.”

  Elizabeth smelled the salmon and took a bite. She saw that Margie had tucked a couple gyros and pita chips with saganaki inside as well. Luckily, the saganaki wasn’t still on fire. The flaming cheese dish was one of her favorites.

  “I get the feeling she doesn’t like me.”

  “I get the feeling you like that she doesn’t like you.”

  “You may be right there.” He peered over her plate and wrinkled his nose. “You know, you really should go eat in the mess. Get away from the lab now and then. Nothing will happen without you. I promise.”

  “I know,” she answered, but Elizabeth had been too fascinated by the war being fought under the electron microscope to stop for lunch.

  She’d been working with prions, proteins that were thought to act as a protector for cells in the central nervous system. When these proteins became misfolded, the end result was damage to cells that culminated in neurodegenerative diseases like Creutzfeldt-Jakob in humans and bovine spongiform encephalopathy, or “mad cow,” as it was more commonly called.

  Her work had reached a brick wall until she’d been tapped by Bureau 7 to work for their science division. Since coming to Kythnos, she’d seen results. Elizabeth supposed working for a secret government agency that handled ghosts, goblins, and everything that went bump in the night had to have its bennies.

  With Bureau 7 resources, she’d managed to reprogram those misfolded proteins. Basically, to remind them of their purpose, so they’d continue doing their job. Instead of interfering with synapse function, they’d cause new pathways to be built.

  Right now, the newly programmed prions were attacking cells she’d taken from a glioblastoma, a malignant brain tumor. They weren’t just attacking, they were consuming, devouring, and what they left in its place were healthy astrocytes, the cells that formed the glioblastoma.<
br />
  Euphoria washed over her in waves. Making this kind of discovery, it was better than sex. Better than anything. It was why she worked in the field that she did. She wanted to make a difference.

  And she wanted the Wollstonecraft name to bring more to the table than visions of a tragic girl who wrote about an even more tragic monster. Her mother was a noted activist, but no one remembered her name. Not until interns went digging to come up with “10 Facts You Didn’t Know About XYZ.”

  Elizabeth was determined to make her mark, to create something the world couldn’t ignore. The headline wouldn’t read “Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley’s Descendent Cures Disease.” It would be “Dr. Elizabeth Wollstonecraft Cures Brain Cancer.”

  Most anything would be better than that. Especially going into the medical field, she’d taken her share of jeers about her name. For med students, they hadn’t been very bright. Elizabeth had corrected them on more than one occasion that it wasn’t a “Frankenstein.” That was the name of the doctor, not the monster. And of course, it had been tossed back at her that she would know.

  And she did know. She knew a lot of things.

  Success was so close; she could taste it on the tip of her tongue like spun sugar.

  She peered down into the electron microscope again.

  “From the look on your face, I’d say we have some new data.” Dr. John Polidori said.

  “We do! Those vampire stem cells have had an amazing impact. Look!” She offered her place in front of the microscope to John.

  A year ago, she’d never have thought to say anything about vampires in conjunction with science. Vampires weren’t real. Or so she’d believed then.