She ignored her mother’s command and skipped up the double set of plank stairs to their large deck, slid the glass doors open, and stepped inside.
“Mom?” she said out loud because she could see from her mother’s stance and the scowl over her pretty face that she was extremely annoyed.
Vance, with that ever-present and arrogant smirk on his too pretty face, stood next to her father, who had stepped towards her, smiling warmly.
She tried to lighten the mood with a bright tone. “Hi, Dad, what’s up?” However, she saw what humans couldn’t see: a black aura surrounding not only Vance Debbin but one around her father as well. He had been immersing himself in black magic for years, and although she didn’t want to admit it, she could see that her mother was correct—there was very little white light left in his aura.
When it came to her father, Exerilla was conflicted. She knew what he was, a Dark Warlock. She knew the rumors surrounding his father’s coven. She knew that this was what kept her parents apart.
His ethics were not her own, yet she had always loved him. And although he had always been interested in her and what she did, he had never before interfered with her life.
He stepped forward, his white blond hair incongruous with the fact that he was a Dark Sorcerer. His face was youthful because, like her mother, he was an immortal. His eyes, however, had lost their sparkle. They were black as coal, and though they seemed to soften when he looked at her, she felt something about him had drastically changed.
He said to her softly, “X, my dear,” and stepped forward, taking her in his arms for a hug. She didn’t object, but she looked past him at her mother, who stood nervously chewing her bottom lip.
“Papa,” she said, and then because she didn’t want her mother subjected to any trouble, she politely looked towards her father’s companion. “And, Vance, hello. What brings you two here today?”
Her father moved towards her mother then, and X watched warily as he took her mother’s hand and kissed it. He brought his black eyes up and looked into her mother’s deep sea green eyes, so much like her own, and answered her without taking his eyes away from her mother. “You, daughter,
you
.”
Suddenly he snapped himself to attention all at once and turned to gently indicate with a slight wave of his hand. “Shall I get to the point? Yes, I think so. Vance, as you know, is interested in courting you. I wish this to go forward, have wished for it from the first moment he let me know how he felt.” He inclined his head. “I waited for you to finish your education, but that time is over.” This time he opened his arms wide and gave her a considering gaze. “My interest is simple. I wish the Debbin House joined with Radley House. It will not only increase our combined power, it will make us invincible. The children from such a match will have formidable magic.”
Vance stepped towards her. She had known him a good part of her adult life, and he had always displayed a partiality for her. She, however, didn’t, couldn’t, even like him, let alone fall in love with him. She knew women found him irresistible, with his dark auburn hair and the peak it formed in the middle of his forehead. His dark eyes, however, were cold. This was what her mother had warned her about. She had laughed it off. No, she could never consider Vance Debbin as a husband.
She started to speak, but her mother put up a hand to say, “We are honored, Arlan, my love. However, I don’t think
our
daughter was thinking of courtship or marriage at this stage of her life. She has, as you know, plans to go to New York in the fall and start working towards her masters…”
“I will never allow anything to interfere with her plans,” her father said softly. “I see no reason why marriage should interfere with her education.”
“I am not interested in marriage,” X stuck in, thinking this was archaic. Where did this come from?
Again, he shrugged. “No? Perhaps I speak of it too soon. However, there is no reason why you can not go on a date or two and get to know one another, for in the end, my darling Rachel, they don’t have a choice. In the end, they will marry, but, though that is my right to will as her father, I do not mind her taking a little time.”
Her mother shot her daughter a look and said with the link that was theirs alone,
Don’t speak
.
“Of course,” her mother responded to him, “but if for any reason our daughter objects to the union?”
“For now, I only ask that she allow Vance to court her,” her father said, sounding reasonable, but Exerilla knew, because she knew him, that he would not give her a choice. He was allowing a brief courtship because he wanted her comfortable, but in the end, she could see, he meant this to go forward.
“Of course, but today Exerilla and I have plans. Vance is welcome to come with you of course for cocktails tomorrow evening, and then perhaps he can take her to dinner.” She eyed her husband flirtatiously and Exerilla wondered just what her mother was doing.
Two things were off here.
Her mother despised Vance Debbin. She wouldn’t let her go to dinner or anything else alone with him. He was not only a dark warlock, but rumors abounded about him, rumors that called him a vicious killer who killed for the thrill of it.
Right then, so why had her mother so readily accepted?
The second thing that caught her attention was the fact that though separated, her parents were still in love. And even so, she knew in that moment, her mother meant to take her father on.
Was her mother playing a game—why? To buy time? To do what? She hadn’t a clue. She looked from mother to father and kept quiet. Yes, she would keep still now because there was no way in hell she was going to go to dinner or anything else with Vance Debbin, let alone marry him.
“That is more than fair, as I had expected our little X to put up a fight. She has never liked being dictated to.” He smiled, and Exerilla saw pride light up his handsome face.
He had, like her friends, always called her X. She shrugged and smiled at him. “I don’t like it now, either. However, I have known Vance a very long time and would not insult him by refusing to have a few dinner engagements with him and see how we feel about each other.” Would her father see that she was lying?
Evidently, her father was too pleased with the outcome of this, for he merely bowed in his Old World style before the dark cloud that had delivered him into their home enveloped him and took him and Vance away.
Her mother grabbed Exerilla’s shoulders and said in a tone that sounded desperate, “Hurry—there is no time to waste!”
She knew what her mother wanted, and although she also knew that her mother was only trying to protect her, she just couldn’t comply.
How could she?
It wasn’t as though her mom wanted her to go off on some summer vacation. Her mother wanted to send her into the past, and not any recent past, but nearly two hundred years in the past.
How could she give up all her plans, not start graduate school in the fall?
She couldn’t believe her father would use a compulsion spell to make her marry
el creepo
.
She couldn’t believe he would force her to do anything. He had never done so before.
She wouldn’t do it.
Why should she? Why the past, why England? Why?
According to prophesy, Ravena is the only one who can rescue a powerful sorcerer trapped in another dimension—but the prophesy doesn’t promise she’ll survive the experience. Read her story in
Hungry Moon: Quicksilver
~ Prelude ~
1575, Scottish Highlands, where many honored their clans and chose to follow the old ways
Quinn MacValdane had a great deal of weight on his shoulders, but those shoulders were huge and certainly capable of carrying the burden. The weight, however, was unlike any other he had ever lifted, and he was tired of constantly having to deal with it. He just wasn’t ready to get married!
He was more than six months away from turning thirty and tired of the nagging as his birthday drew closer. He had to get out and away from it!
Mayhap he just needed a tussle with the pretty tavern wench, Sarah, to loosen up his nerves? Och but he liked her full breasts. The notion of her naked body under him made him smile, and he felt his dick spring up, ready for action.
A crackle of twigs made him look around and hold his lantern up.
He had heard the rumors but had shrugged them off. He wasn’t concerned—why should he be?
He was a sorcerer with supreme powers and had naught to fear from the beast.
Thus, he proceeded into the woods to take the shortcut to the town tavern. He grinned and hummed to himself, much like a boy at the thought of a few drinks with his friends and then a bit of fun with Sarah. She was a lovely, full-bodied woman …
He heard something again.
His hearing had always been extraordinary, and it told him now that something moved stealthily through the woods at his back and was eating up distance between them.
Once again, he held up his lantern and looked around—not afraid, but wary, very wary, for he knew that something evil was at his back.
He touched the silver-tipped sword that was tucked at his belt. If something rabid was out there, it was time to put an end to it! And, bloody damn, he was just the man to do it. He would enact his shield, protect himself from getting bitten, and finish the beast once and for all. The shield would protect him from the dangers of a rabid bite.
Everything in the forest seemed to go still.
Nothing seemed to move. Even the crickets had ceased their chatter.
Warily he started forward again.
His mother’s face flashed in his mind.
If only she would stop her nagging at him. Lately it was always the subject at the dinner table.
She was a dear heart, but he wasn’t in love, and he wasn’t ready to tie himself down to one woman.
She wanted grandchildren, something to fill the void and still the grief of his father’s passing. She wanted him to carry on the line.
He liked being single … he liked women …
He had told her to leave him be.
He was the only son, she enjoyed reminding him. She wanted to keep Valdane in a direct line. If he didn’t have a son, the castle and the estate would go to his father’s brother. What she didn’t realize was
he didn’t care
. He loved his good uncle—why shouldn’t the estate go to him?
These thoughts were once again interrupted, and Quinn MacValdane knew the creature was not only at his back, it had had gained ground.
The first
thing that assailed him was the odor. Musky, and because his sense of smell was as good as his hearing, the scent of fresh sweet blood filtered through to him. It was dripping saliva mixed with blood.
The second
thing that assailed him was the sound of the beast, the low, unthinking wild growl. The sound was primal as the creature trumpeted hungrily with mindless rage.
The third
thing was the sure knowledge that this was something sinister, something otherworldly: more, so much more than a rabid beast—more than the ‘werewolf’ he had actually expected to appear.
It was near, and it was exploding with Dark Magic.
This beast was frothing at the mouth and mad.
He would not be able to outrun it, and he wasn’t sure his shield would hold against its Dark Magic. What was this? What kind of werewolf had magic?
He felt its power vibrate in the air. He had been just a teen when the male members of his family had hunted and killed a werewolf years ago. This was so much more.
Quinn MacValdane did the only thing he could do: he enacted a spell that enswathed him with a protective shield.
It should have been enough
.
He set down his lantern and withdrew his silver-tipped sword.
His shield should have worked like a coat of armor, but he had been right—this was more, so much more than a werewolf. This creature wielded Dark Magic and had stalked him with purpose.
It stood a foot taller than Quinn’s six feet. It clawed the air, its amber eyes burning with bloodlust. It was drooling saliva and blood from its recent kill, and it roared with fury.
Quinn looked into its eyes and knew he was looking into the eyes of madness. It swiped at him, but its claws bounced off his shield.
Infuriated, it went down on all fours, and Quinn heard the voice, its voice, in his head as it began reciting an ancient Gaelic spell.
And then he knew.
It was tearing apart his shield with its magic.
He looked up and noted the moon was in its full glory as the feral creature attacked with a ferociousness he believed would kill him.
He picked his spot and began maneuvering it in a circle. It kept its head low and stared at his sword, which seemed to deter it.
Quinn couldn’t get over its size … huge and pulsating with power.