A low and wide form prowled in the corner. Sin. Her heart slowed. He’d managed to find a way through the back.
Her gaze swept through the room, avoiding the gruesome sight of Burton’s body.
Where was Morgius? She’d expected him to pounce on her instantly.
She swallowed and blinked once. She could do this. She had to do this.
“Annehyentx Morgius, Soul Harvester, Prince of the Daeva Realm. I summon thee!” Thornwood Aloysius Huntington, Alchemist and Keeper of Truth called the evil being out.
An acrid scent, now wretchedly too familiar, rose around Celeste.
Burton’s body shivered, his eyes opened, casting them with a gaze of blank despair. Could the mage have been brought back to life? All limbs tensed as if under tremendous pressure. A thick grey-black shadow rose from the body, surrounding it, covering it in a layer so thick, Burton’s flesh disappeared.
The heavy dirty mist seeped out of the dead form spread-eagle on the wall and collected on the floor, layer by layer, mounting into a soulless humanoid before her.
Her breath halted in her throat as the evil being again pointed at her.
Her muscles constricted as she fought the icy fear seizing her bones. Sinclair’s Warden’s bracelet glowed blue at her wrist. She took a slow careful breath and forced herself to look at his void golden eyes.
Come get me, Morgius. I’m ready.
“Annehyentx hyenthx annehyentx! “ Thornwood shouted in the heavy malevolent darkness.
And again she fell.
Chapter 12
She fell, long, fast and weightless into the void. In Morgius’s gaze, in his mind.
There was nothing.
Nothing but screams and despair, and the dread that comes from knowing things will never change. A hopelessness so dense it left you begging for an ending, for a stop to the shear torture and sorrow.
As she hit the ground, a searing pain seized her spine and took her breath away. She gasped, unable to let the air in. The thick weight of hefty rusted iron snapped at her ankles and wrists.
Shackled.
Her whole being screamed her panic.
“No fear.” A disembodied voice spoke in the dark, hushed, as if spoken through centuries-old faded lace and linen. “You will get used to it.”
She turn sharply toward the voice, her blood pumping with terror. The sound of her heavy chain echoed thousands of times in the darkness.
“I am Morgius. You are mine.”
“This is not real!” She jumped to her feet, the wide cuffs chaffing her ankles in a painful lesion that felt much too real. “You’re in my mind.”
“No.” The voice came from every direction. “You are already dead. You are mine.”
“Poklias.Vahranth noirceis poklias!” she intoned to banish the deception and remained on the path of sanity. “Reveal yourself.”
But nothing appeared.
The earth beneath her gave way.
And she fell again.
Deeper. Helpless once more. Visions surrounded her, faces drained of their blood, left with nothing but dreadful eyes and emaciated flesh. Their bony and demanding hands reaching for her as she tumbled below with no control over her body.
“Vahranth!” she shouted again with panic. “You are not real.”
She smashed into the damp earthy ground with a painful crack in her neck.
“Vahranth hyenthx! Morgius, show yourself,” she yelled madly, despair flooding through her.
“I am Morgius, Prince of the Daeva Realms, Harvester of Lost Souls and you belong to me.” The voice boomed around her in the impenetrable and caustic darkness. A faint strain appeared in the commanding words, a faltering in the frequency of his tone which gave way to a hint of hope in her mind.
Could her spells slowly eroding his power?
The evil being finally appeared, a dark monster of dust and shadows, huge and horrible before her.
The dead gray skin and desolated razor sharp cheekbones, the bulbous head topped with the bleeding crown. The flat golden eyes piercing through the depth of her very soul, leaving her with a never-ending agony crowded with a poisonous promise for infinitely more.
She swallowed, a scream lodged in her mouth.
She forced herself to look hard at him. “Teisthys, protect your pupil,” she pleaded. Her body shook with fear, her mind running through all the spells she knew.
This was all a dream. Just a trick played on her mind. Morgius was toying with her. She knew. But she was drained.
She looked down at the chain anchoring her to his world of doom. Didn’t know how long she would be able to distinguish between dreams and reality, how long until he took her mind for good.
The glimpse of hope vanished from her heart. Shattered in torment.
And she prayed, she really prayed that somewhere out there in the real world, Sin and Thorn were getting to the Sea Serpent chest and weakening her enemy to get her out of this madness.
“I am Morgius.” The evil being jumped at her, his hands reached for her throat. “You are finally all mine.”
The heavy inhuman hands squeezed her neck, blocking the air from her windpipe.
His decaying breath huffed at her cheek, burning her skin to the bones. His mind overtaking her, filling her entire body like tentacles squirming their scorching ways through every orifice she possessed.
Stars danced before her eyes. Her throat seared with the crushing pain of the loss of precious air.
Morgius lifted her from the ground, holding her by the neck. In wretched agony, she desperately clawed at the hands at her throat, her body twisting, her nerves battling inside her, as each of her limbs screamed to escape the unbearable torture.
But her strength failed her. She needed air.
Panic rushed through her. She needed air to cast. For one spell.
Just one spell.
But she was slipping out of consciousness. Dying.
Where were they?
Where was Sinclair? Thorn?
The cuff. The cuff had energy. It was her last chance.
“Hyenthx…” She breathed the spell with the last bit of air in her lungs, with all her will and intention, using the energy from Sin’s cuff.
She stared hard at the monster, every fiber of her being converging into that one spell. “Hyenthx!” she croaked.
Drawing a deep breath and, with the cuff at her wrist shining bright white, she shouted again, “Hyenthx quexieth!”
Morgius’s hands shot out from her neck at her final command. His body blasted away from her in a powerful flash.
The monster slammed to the damped ground, his form lay lumped, unconscious at her feet. The blood-soaked crown propped beside him. The goat-like fur-covered hands, which seconds ago were at her neck, now rested useless by his sides. His golden eyes gawked blankly above her head.
Defeated.
She stared down at her crushed foe as a rush of adrenaline ran through her muscles. “I belong to no one…”
“I belong to no one!” She repeated, the power of her craft, of herself, consuming her blood.
“I belong to me!”
“Now!” The shout echoed as she lay shattered and muttering on the floor of the cottage. A puddle of drained energy, her throat bruised and aching.
Thornwood, his coat billowing around him, was pointing his long staff at the floor, intoning the same incantation over and over again, and Sinclair, still the massive feline, gnarled at the dark shadow that was Morgius fully formed who now retreated toward to chest.
Sinclair turned sharply toward her, his slanted green and amber pupils flashed at her, urging her on. She banded her muscles and, despite the ache tainting every inch of her, slowly rose to her feet.
She glowered at the evil that had her in his clutch for so long, rage fueling her.
“I belong to no one,” she whispered again to herself.
She took a deep breath, pointed at him, and shouted. “Hyenthx, Morgius vahrasth hyen!”
The ma
ssive shadow entity stepped back and crumpled upon himself.
Celeste yielded to her vicious rage. “Hyenthx Morgius. Vahrasth!”
The Soul Harvester crumbled again. This time falling to the floor for real.
“Release me.” Her arms high and strong above her head, she called her powers forth and made her intention clear. “By the power of the four elements, by the power of the guardians of light and dark, by the power of Teithys, Morgius, Prince of the Daeva Realm, I command you to release me.”
A thin blue light seeped out of the middle of Morgius’s chest, right where his heart would be should he be mortal. The beam grew as it left the demon. Rising above him, above the warlocks through the entire cabin. Webs dissolved along the wall, drifting to the ground. Burton’s body slumped after them like a broken doll on the floor.
And at last, Celeste’s lungs filled with clean precious air. A lightness buoyed her physical being. The intense pressure at her skull eased.
Thornwood glanced at her, then at Morgius.
She nodded at the alchemist. “Now.”
“Annehyentx artyfxium hyen!” The tip of his staff turned bright blue.
The contained shadows that created Morgius dissipated into thin wisps. And each parcel, one at a time, floated toward the chest. Within moments the evil being was no more, contained now into its prison of ancient blessed woods and brass. The legendary metal sea serpents slithered around the chest in a powerful lock that could only be broken with strong magic.
Celeste inhaled deeply, incredible relief washing over her.
Finally, she was free.
Her nightmare was over.
She stood utterly exhausted from the spell, but in some odd way stronger than ever. She had done it. Had reclaimed herself.
The fragile broken doll, so sheltered by the ones who loved her, had casted her shackles away. She had saved herself, and others, from a fate worse than death.
She was alive. Whole. Filled with love. And light.
She had banished the darkness. And on her own terms.
With the familiar scent of clean spices surrounding her, muscular arms locked around her and she leaned into their embrace. Sinclair, naked and strong, held her against his broad chest, his heart beating hard and in tune with hers.
She had no time to catch her breath, before he whispered in her ear. “Now that you finally vanquished your enemy, will you agree to marry me?”
Epilogue
A few hours later, Celeste smiled at Sinclair as he casually drove the Black Jag south on I-95 in the bright afternoon sun, apparently having a hard time keeping his eyes off her and on the road.
Thornwood had left for Seaport as quickly as he’d come. He’d taken the Sea Serpent chest with him, after cleaning up the mess at the beach house with a few well-chosen spells.
Celeste had to admit it was nice to have powerful friends. The alchemist had gone home to explain to her mom that she was not coming back and can someone please come down to pick up the Lexus. She had emptied its content into Sin’s car and would not be needing it soon.
She’d ask Thorn to leave out the details of her nightmarish ordeal for now as to prevent her family’s worries.
While she still wanted to be away from them all to forge her own path she could no longer deny her ties to the warlocks. She was one of them.
And she would be back. Perhaps start her own practice in Seaport after some experience. And her newfound powers needed a mentor. It was time she started bonding with her mother over their St-Amand witchcraft legacy.
Sin cast a protective look at her again. “I thought I’d lost you,” he said.
“You never lost me. And you never will.” She believed it with all her heart.
While she did shout at Morgius that she belonged to no one, she did belong to Sinclair.
Not in a caged way.
But in a woman free to make her own choices. And one of those choices was the man she couldn’t live without.
“I’d do anything for you, you know that,” he said.
“I know. Coming with me to New York is a big one, isn’t it?”
“Maybe, but not really, I’d follow you everywhere. In fact, I will follow you everywhere. Forever.”
She smiled, warmed with content. “I love you.” She admired his broad shoulders in the luxurious cashmere coat, sensual lips, and strong hands on the steering wheel that explored her body so well.
Hot desire rose in her with pressing need. She was his, but all this manliness, his powers, was hers.
“You have no idea how much I love you.” His virile gaze indicated how he’d show her later. How he’d show her forever.
Her cell phone pinged and she looked at the screen.
“Mom again,” she said, her tone coy. “Still wondering if I’m ok. I just texted her an hour ago.”
“Celeste, you can’t let Thornwood bring her the news her little girl is moving to New York. That’s harsh.”
She thought about that for a moment, admiring the large diamond at her finger, which caught the sunlight to cast bright dancing rays on the elegant upholstery of the Jaguar. “Fine.”
She tapped her phone and started typing:
So Mom, how soon can you start planning a wedding?
Want to get more of mysterious alchemist Thornwood Huntington, pick up your copy of AN ALCHEMIST’S DESIRE, book 3 in the Order of the Black Oak Series.
The Order of the Black Oak
The Warlocks
A WARLOCK’S KISS
A SORCERER’S NIGHT
AN ALCHEMIST’S DESIRE
AN ARCHMAGE’S DESTINY
A SPELLBINDER’S DENIAL
A NECROMANCER’S LOVE
“Bourque develops a world of mages and sorceresses unlike any other. "
-- Night Owl Reviews
www.marieclaudebourque.com
Marie-Claude Bourque is an author of gothic paranormal romance and the winner of the American Title V award with her debut novel ANCIENT WHISPERS.
Her writing features modern-day fantasy skillfully weaved into infinitely romantic stories between smart strong women and complex passionate heroes.
Happily Ever After always absolutely guaranteed!
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Induction
Sid & Sin #1
T.K. Eldridge
They weren't supposed to exist.
Sidonie & Sinclair Boudreau were the offspring of a witch and a shifter. Such pairings usually resulted in death. Sid & Sin had not only survived, but thrived, and managed to sidestep the family legacy of supernatural policing.
The disappearance of their parents changed everything. A cryptic message, an ancient prophecy, and a mystery to uncover in order to bring their parents home puts the twins in the crosshairs of an enemy they didn't know existed.
What would you do, to save those you loved?
To all those who came before.
Your dreams, struggles, loves, and lives are what created me.
What I do with that, is all on me.
“Suddenly all my ancestors are behind me.
Be still, they say. Watch and listen.
You are the result of the love of thousands.”
- Linda Hogan
Sid
This was not how I had planned to spend the Friday after final exams. A week of high-pressure testing was supposed to end with a day of pampering with the girls. Followed by good food and a night of drinking with the whole gang. It was not supposed to be spent standing around a smelly police station, watching a guy I’d turned down more than a few times question my brother.
I stared at Jenkins for a few minutes. He was a mundane. Nothing speci
al about him at all, if you didn’t count his arrogance.
You could see the paranormals if you knew what to look for. Witches had that veil-thin shimmer around them, like heat rising off of asphalt. Shifters got that animalistic green glint in their eye when the light caught them just right. Me? I just confused the hell out of them. Sometimes I shimmered, sometimes my eyes caught the light just so, and sometimes I could hide it all. Same with my brother, Sin. The whole hiding thing? We think it’s because we’re twins. Or maybe because we’re not supposed to exist in the first place.
I stood with my back against the wall and watched as my twin brother twisted his ball cap into a nest of cloth and cardboard. The cops had wanted to talk to him first, which was fine with me. I had nothing to say. I had fallen asleep in my friend Aaron’s car and barely woke in time for my ten o’clock class. I never made it home last night. Listening to Sin, it sounded like he hadn’t made it home either.
I was starving. It was time to put the Boudreau moxie into play. I sauntered over to the table and leaned a hip against the sticky metal surface.
“Officer Jenkins, could you please tell us what is going on? I’ve got…plans.” I gave him my best sexy smile and peered up at him through my lashes. Hell, I even bit my lower lip.
Sin leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. “Yeah, I think we’re done here. I’ve told you where I was, what I was doing and who I was with. My sister and I need to get home.”
Jenkins smirked and shook his head. “Damned Boudreaus always think you’re better’n everybody else. Well, you’re not. Sit down and I’ll ask all the questions I want.”
My sultry look disappeared, and I sighed as if he’d just disappointed me beyond measure. “Okay. Lawyer.”
Shifters Gone Wild: A Shifter Romance Collection Page 146