Midnight Magic (11 page)

“Yes.” He moved into the circle of her arms and returned her embrace. “We do, and we always will.”

“Blood to blood,” she murmured against his shoulder.

“Uh-huh.” He kissed her lazily, taking his time. When her hips moved against his of their own volition, she pulled away.

“Coffee,” she said firmly and tugged her long, wet hair into a scrunchie. “And breakfast. Would you rather cook or go out?”

“Let’s see what Eleanora wants,” he suggested as he pushed open the door into the hall.

Cassie crowded close on his heels.

Coincidentally, or perhaps not—after all, Eleanora
was
psychic—the door to her Mother’s room cracked open, and she strode through it. A colorful scarf spanned her waist, breaking up the black of her clothing. Her dark hair gleamed in sunlight pouring into the upstairs hall.

“Good morning, children.” Eleanora walked toward them, Murietta perched on her shoulder and Hector bringing up the rear. “I couldn’t help but hear you talking about breakfast. Going out would be simply lovely. I’ve been trapped in this house for close to a year.”

“There’s that little omelet place you used to like,” Cassie suggested.

“Perfect, darling.” Eleanora headed for the stairs. “Grab your coats and I’ll meet you in the garage.” She turned and looked meaningfully over her shoulder at Jeremy. “We can plot our strategy over that amazing Yogi tea they make.”

“I suppose I’m the object of that strategy.” Cassie took Jeremy’s hand, and they followed Eleanora down the stairs. “After all, I’ll need lots of magic lessons. Then there’s the whole Druid society thing. If that wasn’t enough, Father should be here shortly to add his two cents’ worth to the mix.”

Jeremy quirked an eyebrow and laughed. “See,” he managed when he could talk again. “Psychic already and we haven’t even begun to train you yet. Be sure to keep hold of my hand while we’re at the restaurant. I’ll redirect all that energy, so it doesn’t leak out.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “Good thing you thought about it, because I sure didn’t. Right after breakfast I'll need a crash course in how to control it myself.”

“Done.” He stopped in front of the library, bent his head, and kissed the tip of her nose.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and angled her head until he closed his mouth over hers. He teased, nipped, and licked. She clung to him, kissing him with an intensity that stole her breath—and her intentions not to make love again quite so soon.

He caressed her shoulders and back before drawing her body tight against his growing erection.

The insistent
blat
of a car horn filled the air, and she drew away, laughing. “Guess Mom’s anxious to get out of here.”

He brushed his thumb over her lower lip and kissed her lightly. “Probably shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

Cassie laughed. “Yeah, she might turn us into toads.”

“Or parrots.”

“
Awk,
magic man.
Awk
. Parrots good.”

Cassie ran lightly to Murietta’s perch. “Not just good.” She stroked the bird’s feathered head. “They’re the best.”

Blat. Blat. Blat.

“Gotta run,” she told Murietta and joined Jeremy in the hall.

“I don’t recall Eleanora having so little patience.” Jeremy grinned.

Cassie shrugged and led the way through the kitchen and into the garage. “We’ve got to cut her some slack, she’s had a hell of a year. Plus, if she didn’t fuss a bit, you and I would’ve ended up back in bed. And she knew it.”

“It’s going to be interesting having a psychic mother-in-law.”

“Having second thoughts?” Cassie tossed a glance over her shoulder.

“Never.”

“Good!” She trotted to the Aston Martin and got into the passenger seat. “I’d hate to sic Mother on you.”

“What exactly would I do to him?” Eleanora raised one black brow.

“Make him—”

Jeremy leaned his head in the open window and silenced her with a kiss.

“For the love of the goddess, get in the fucking car,” Eleanora sputtered. “You two have your entire lives to bed one another.”

Cassie couldn’t stop smiling as the car pulled out of the driveway. “You betcha,” she told her mother. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Music to my ears,” Jeremy chimed from the back seat. “Eleanora, let’s plan a Druid wedding.”

“Oh my goodness, yes,” she replied. “A huge one. All your people, and all mine...”

Cassie shut her eyes and listened to them chat about the future. The nightmare was truly over. Now was a time to heal.

The End

About the Author:

Ann Gimpel is a national bestselling author. A lifelong aficionado of the unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years ago. Since then her short fiction has appeared in a number of webzines and anthologies. Her longer books run the gamut from urban fantasy to paranormal romance. Once upon a time, she nurtured clients, now she nurtures dark, gritty fantasy stories that push hard against reality. When she’s not writing, she’s in the backcountry getting down and dirty with her camera. She’s published over 30 books to date, with several more planned for 2015 and beyond. A husband, grown children, grandchildren and wolf hybrids round out her family.

Keep up with her at
www.anngimpel.com
or
http://anngimpel.blogspot.com

If you enjoyed what you read, get in line for special offers and pre-release special reads.
Newsletter Signup!

If you liked this paranormal romance novella, you might enjoy some of my longer works. Dragons loom large in two of my series. A couple of samples follow, one from the Earth Reclaimed books and the next from the Dragon Lore series.

Earth’s Requiem, Earth Reclaimed, Book One

Book Description:

Resilient, kickass, and determined, Aislinn's walled herself off from anything that might make her feel again. Until a wolf picks her for a bondmate, and a Celtic god rises out of legend to claim her for his own.

Aislinn Lenear lost her anthropologist father high in the Bolivian Andes. Her mother, crazy with grief that muted her magic, was marched into a radioactive vortex by dark creatures. Three years later, stripped of every illusion that ever comforted her, twenty-two year old Aislinn is one resilient, kickass woman with a
take no prisoners
attitude. In a world turned upside down, where virtually nothing familiar is left, she’s conscripted to fight the dark gods responsible for her father’s death. Battling evil on her own terms, Aislinn walls herself off from anything that might make her feel again in this compelling dystopian urban fantasy.

Fionn MacCumhaill, Celtic god of wisdom, protection, and divination has been laying low since the dark gods stormed Earth. He and his fellow Celts decided to wait them out. Three years is nothing compared to their long lives. On a clear winter day, Aislinn walks into his life and suddenly all bets are off. Awed by her courage, he stakes his claim to her and to an Earth he's willing to fight for.

Aislinn’s not so easily convinced. Fionn’s one gorgeous man, but she has a world to save. Emotional entanglements will only get in her way. Letting a wolf into her life was hard. Letting love in may well prove impossible.

Books in the Earth Reclaimed Series:

Earth’s Requiem

Earth’s Blood

Earth’s Hope

First Prologue

Salt Lake City, Utah

Aislinn tried to stop it, but the vision that had dogged her for over a year played in her head. She squeezed her eyes shut tight. Mental images crowded behind her closed lids, as vivid as if they’d happened yesterday. She raked her hands through her hair and pulled hard, but the movie chronicling the beginning of her own personal hell didn’t even slow down. She whimpered as the humid darkness of a South American night closed about her...

Her mother screamed in Gaelic, “Deifir, Deifir,” and then shoved Aislinn again. She tried to hurry like her mother wanted, but it was all too much to take in. Stumbling down the steep Bolivian mountainside in the dark, she ignored tears and snot streaking her face. Her legs shook. Nausea clenched her gut. Her mother was crying too, in between cursing the gods and herself. Aislinn knew enough Gaelic to understand her mother had tried to talk her father out of going to the ancient Inca prayer site, but Jacob hadn’t listened.

A vision of her father’s twisted body lying dead a thousand feet above them tore at Aislinn. Just a few hours ago, her life had been normal. Now her mother had turned into a grief-crazed harridan. Her beloved father, a gentle giant of a man, was dead. Killed by those horrors that had crawled out of the ground. Perfect, golden-skinned men with long, silky hair and luminous eyes, apparently summoned through the ancient rite linked to the shrine. Thinking about it was like trying to shove her hand into a flame, her pain too unbearable to examine closely.

Aislinn was afraid to turn around. Tara had already slapped her once. Another spate of Gaelic galvanized her tired legs into motion. Her mother was clearly terrified the monsters would come after them, but Aislinn didn’t think they’d bother. At least a hundred adoring half-naked worshipers remained at the shrine high on the mountain. Once Tara had herded her into the shadows, her last glimpse of the crowd revealed one of the lethal exotic creatures turning a woman so he could penetrate her. Even in Aislinn’s near-paralyzed state, the sexual heat was so compelling, it took all her self-discipline not to race to his side and insist he take her instead. After all, she was younger, prettier. It didn’t matter at all that he’d just killed her father.

...Aislinn shook her head so hard, it felt like her brains rattled from side to side in her skull. Despite the time that had passed since her father’s murder, she still fell into these damned trance states, where the horror happened all over again. Tears leaked from her eyes. She slammed a fist down on a corner of her desk, glorying in the diversion pain created. Crying was pointless. It wouldn’t change anything. Self-pity was an indulgence she couldn’t afford.

Pull it together. The weak die.

Even though she wasn’t sure why life felt so precious—after all, she’d lost nearly everything—Aislinn wanted to live. Would do anything to hang onto the vital thread that maintained her on Earth.

A bitter laugh bubbled up. What a transition: from Aislinn Lenear, college student, to Aislinn Lenear, fledgling magic wielder. A second race of alien beings, Lemurians, had stormed Earth on the heels of that hideous night in Bolivia, selecting certain humans because they had magical ability and sending everyone else to their deaths.

It was a process. It took time to kill people, but huge sections of Salt Lake City sat empty. Skyscraper towers downtown and rows of vacant buildings mocked a life that was no more. In her travels to nearby places before the gasoline ran out, Aislinn had found them about the same as Salt Lake.

Jacob’s death had been a harbinger of impending chaos—the barest beginning. The world she’d known had imploded shockingly fast. It killed Aislinn to admit it—she kept hoping for a miracle to intercede—but her mother was certifiable. Tara may as well have died right along with her husband. She hadn’t left the house once since they’d returned a year before. Her long, red hair was filthy and matted. She barely ate. When she wasn’t curled into a fetal position, she drew odd runes on the kitchen floor and muttered in Gaelic about Celtic gods and dragons. It was only a matter of time before the Lemurians culled her. Tara had magic, but she was worthless in her current state.

The sound of the kitchen door rattling against its stops startled Aislinn. On her feet in a flash, she took the stairs two at a time and burst into the kitchen. A Lemurian had one of its preternaturally long-fingered hands curved around Tara’s emaciated arm. He crooned to her in his language—an incomprehensible mix of clicks and clacks. Tara’s wild, golden eyes glazed over. She stopped trying to pull away and got to her feet, leaning against the seven-foot tall creature with long, shiny blond hair, as if she couldn’t stand on her own.

“No!” Aislinn hurled herself at the Lemurian. “Leave her alone.”

“Stop!” His odd alien gaze met hers. “It is time,” the Lemurian said in flawless English, “for both you and her. You must join the fighting and learn about your magic. Your mother is of no use to anyone.”

“But she has magic.” Aislinn hated the pleading in her voice. Hated it.

Be strong. I can’t show him how scared I am.

Something flickered behind the Lemurian’s expression. It might have been disgust—or pity. He turned away and led Tara Lenear out of the house.

Aislinn growled low in her throat and launched herself at the Lemurian’s back. Gathering her clumsy magic into a primitive arc, she focused it on her enemy. Her tongue stuttered over an incantation. Before she could finish it, something smacked her in the chest so hard she flew through the air, hit the kitchen wall, and then slumped to the floor. Wind knocked out of her, spots dancing before her eyes, she struggled to her feet. By the time she stumbled to the kitchen door, both the Lemurian and her mother had vanished.

An unholy shriek split the air, followed by another. Aislinn clapped a hand over her mouth to seal the sound inside and clutched the doorsill. Pain clawed at her belly. Her vision became a red haze. The fucking Lemurian had taken her mother. The last human connection she had. And they expected her to fight for them? Ha! It would be a cold day in Hell. She let go of the doorframe and balled her hands into fists so hard her nails drew blood.

Standing still was killing her, so she walked into blindingly bright sunlight. She didn’t care what happened next. It didn’t matter anymore. A muted explosion rocked the ground. She staggered. When she turned, she wasn’t surprised to see her house crack in multiple places and settle. Not totally destroyed, but close enough.

Guess they want to make sure I don’t have anywhere to go back to.

Her heart shattered into jagged pieces that poked her from the inside. She bit her lip so hard it ached. When that didn’t make a dent in her anguish, she pinched herself, dug her nails into her flesh until she bled from dozens of places. Fingers slick with her own blood, she forced herself into a ragged jog. Maybe if she put some distance between herself and the wreckage of her life, the pain sluicing through her would abate.