Praise For Maggie Shayne
“My inspiration has always been Maggie Shayne and her Wings in the Night Series. Sexy, thrilling, a must-read!” ~* * *1 New York Times Bestselling Author CHRISTINE FEEHAN
“Maggie Shayne’s books have a permanent spot on my keeper shelf. She writes wonderful stories combining romance with page-turning thrills, and I highly recommend her to any fan of romantic suspense.” ~KAREN ROBARDS
“Readers will feel as if they can touch the connection sizzling between the duo. This story will have readers on the edge of their seats and begging for more.” ~ RT BOOKCLUB MAGAZINE (Review of Twilight Fulfilled)
“One of the strongest, most original voices in romance fiction today.” ~ Bestselling Author ANNE STUART
“Creepy, chilling and compelling. Simply spellbinding!” ~ New York Times Bestselling Author SHANNON DRAKE
THE RHIANNON CHRONICLES
Copyright © 2015 by Maggie Shayne
Smashwords Edition
Edited by Jena O'Connor
www.practicalproofing.com
Ebook formatting and Graphic Design by Jessica Lewis
www.authorslifesaver.com
Cover Photo: Paige Wisenbach
paigewissenbach.com
Cover Model: [email protected]
www.facebook.com/deadly.nightshade.model
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Twilight Guardians
Eternity
About the Author
Chapter One
I stood on the deck of the ship we’d stolen from the US government, the sea wind rinsing my hair with the scent of every creature she held in her briny womb. If our enemies found us, they would, as my young friend Charlotte put it, “blow us out of the water.” And they wouldn’t care about destroying the seven hybrid children who were still onboard. That was Charlotte’s opinion, at least. I rather thought they would try to take those walking, talking little experiments alive. They were, after all, bred and trained to be weapons. Vampire killers.
I could only hold the glamour I’d cast for so long. I had to rest. And my attention was divided, to say the least, by the little ones who had been known as The Offspring.
One in particular.
Sooner or later, the government’s secret anti-vampire troops would find us. We had to get the children off the ship.
But right then, at that moment, we were safe. The night was beautiful. And I was in the arms of the man I loved beyond reason. My Roland.
“If it can’t be Egypt, my love, then it must be the rocky coast of Maine. I’ll have it no other way," I told him.
Roland crooked a dark brow at me as if I’d claimed it was raining in the Sahara. Momentarily, that distracted me from our dire situation. He was so incredibly beautiful, standing there with the silent night sky, glittering stars, and ancient rolling ocean as his backdrop. He had the strong jawline and proud nose of nobility, the cheekbones and full, sensual lips of a leading man, with a deeper than usual dip in the center of the top one. I had a hard time keeping my own mouth away from that sexy upper lip of his. Furthermore, he had the body of a god and the piercing, hypnotic eyes of a vampire–for that’s exactly what he was. As was I.
Roland sensed the arousal in my blood. I knew he did because he smiled very slightly, and his eyes sparked. Then, knowing he had me at a disadvantage, he tried his ever-present logic on me.
“Rhiannon,” he said, “we are in the northern Pacific Ocean. Pacific. Not Atlantic.”
“The Pacific and I do not get along," I said. "She’s full of predators who make our kind seem mild by comparison, one of whom took your leg, lest you forget.”
“Not bloody likely to forget that,” he said with a resigned look down at the ingenious mechanical prosthetic the vampire Killian had made for him, all from items found aboard The Anemone.
I touched his arm, sorry to have brought up what was, for him, a painful subject. We still didn’t know if his leg would grow back. Our kind regenerate and heal during the day sleep. But I’d never known of a vampire with an injury so severe who’d survived long enough to make it to his bed. If Roland’s limb was going to grow back, we’d seen no sign of it.
I dragged my fingertips over his cheek, down his corded neck and across his chest to distract him from his pain. “I far prefer the rocky cliffs of the northeastern coast. There’s an entirely different energy to the Atlantic. She feels younger, friskier, lighter somehow. She has a restlessness about her, a vibrant, feisty eagerness.”
“Does she now?” he asked. I nodded in reply and he gazed at me with love in his eyes, amused, I thought, by my uncharacteristic whimsy. “And what personality do you attribute to the Pacific? Besides her children’s hunger for vampire limbs?”
That he could joke about his loss made me love him even more. I’d been finding reasons to love him more for century upon century. I used to think my love for this man would reach its maximum at some point. But I’d come to believe it was capable of growing infinitely. Every day, somehow, it was more.
He was awaiting my reply—not impatient, only eager—standing directly behind me, and I was enjoying our moment on the midnight sea. After all, they hadn’t found us yet.
I leaned on the ship’s rail and looked out across the massive swells, rising and falling like the lungs of a giant, slowly, with an ancient and timeless rhythm. “The Pacific is older, deeper, calmer, perhaps even wiser. But deadlier, too. She holds immense power, and secrets–unfathomable secrets.”
“She’s like you, then,” Roland said softly, his arm curling around my waist to pull me closer. “How can you not love her? How could anyone?”
I turned in his embrace to welcome his kiss and thought again of the miracle that was our love as I tasted his lips and he tasted mine.
As he lifted his head, his eyes as alight as the stars above us, he said, “Short of heading southward all the way to the Panama Canal, I don’t see how we can—”
I pushed at his chest, cutting him off as he stumbled a little. “You can’t sweet talk me out of this, Roland. I’m tired of being at sea. We are not safe on this stolen ship, and I’m not even certain that The Glamourie can hide us from our persecutors with their radar and sonar and whatever else they’re using to search for us. I want a safe place, a haven where we can...settle down.”
He blinked precisely twice, and then his entire being softened. “I never thought in all the centuries we’ve been together, I would hear you say you’d like to settle down.”
I lowered my head, embarrassed I suppose, at my own weakness. I didn’t have many. In fact, until recently, Roland had been the only one. “
Not forever, of course. Just for a short while. A dozen years, perhaps fifteen. Just until Nikki is grown.” I looked past him then, at the seven children playing on the deck. “She’s never had a home, Roland. Never had a family, nor any of the things children need in order to thrive. None of them have.”
He turned, looking at them as well. We’d found thirteen children in kennel-like cages below decks when we’d taken control of the so-called research vessel Anemone. According to the files we’d found, The Offspring had been produced in a lab in four batches. The oldest batch included just two—a girl and a boy, both seventeen years old—but they were no longer onboard. The second batch were all eleven years of age, and there were four of those, two boys and two girls. Next, there were the seven-year-olds, two boys and a little girl who had stolen my heart after nearly killing me. I’d named her Nikki.
There had been four more, just two years old, mere babes, but they too, were gone.
It had not escaped my notice that each group of children included equal numbers of males and females, likely siblings. Which meant my Nikki probably had a sister who had not survived. And that thought infuriated me.
When we’d taken this ship, we’d also found nearly a hundred vampires, half-starved and locked up in cells. They’d been captives, used to train the killer children. Most of them had left the ship by now. Every time we dared venture near enough to shore, another group would take to the water to make their way to land. Our friend Devlin and his dwindling gang had headed out to a private island to take refuge and begin to build what he referred to as “the resistance.” We were not at war with mankind, exactly. But there were elements among them who were determined to wipe us out of existence, and Devlin intended to fight back. When he left, the two eldest Offspring, Wolf and Sheena, had jumped into the sea after him. I’d had time to shout a mental warning, but we’d been spotted and had to flee. Devlin said he would go back for the two. And it killed me that I didn’t know whether he’d managed to save them or not.
Another group of vampires had taken the two-year-olds with them when they’d left the ship, to find a safe haven in which to raise them. We couldn’t give them back to the mortals. The children were powerful. How powerful, we still didn’t know. But they’d been bred to be used as weapons against us. Mortals could not be trusted with such a powerful force, nor could they be counted on to raise the children as souls deserving of love and kindness, rather than as a pack of killer dogs.
For two weeks, we’d had control of the ship. I thought the seven remaining children were beginning to understand that we were their friends, here to care for them, to save them. Bribing them with chocolate from the galley helped, as did having a few mortals among us who insisted vampires were neither evil nor in need of killing, as the children had been taught.
Seven-year-old Nikki was perched in the miniature crow’s nest Christian had built, while he stood nearby, attentive, his big arms outstretched below in case she fell. Dear Christian. Despite his lumbering size, he had the heart and soul of a child himself. He’d been experimented on by those animals who called themselves scientists, as well.
“Look how Pandora watches over them,” I said to Roland. My cat pretended not to like the little ones mauling her, but she was never far from them, always guarding, watchful, protective, as if they were her own cubs.
“The sight of a small child flung across the back of a black panther might be alarming to some,” Roland said, and I heard the smile in his voice.
“To me, it’s a sight that deserves to be painted by a master.”
I sent Nikki a wave and she smiled hugely and waved back, her sleek black hair falling into her eyes as she did. I wanted to shower that little girl in precious gems and swathe her in fabric spun of gold.
“Your eyes, when you look at her,” Roland whispered, “shine in a way I’ve never seen, Rhiannon.”
I shifted my gaze back to my mate. “I’ve never felt this way before, Roland. I want to give her a home. A childhood of magic and wonder, of luxury and delight.”
“You love her.”
I nodded, blinking down an uncharacteristic swell of emotion. “I guess I do. I never thought I would have the chance to raise a child. This is a gift that might never come again.”
He pushed a hand through my hair in that way he so often did, lifting the long dark length of it and tucking it behind my ear. “I’ll make arrangements to get us to Maine.”
My smile was fast and bright. “Thank you, my love.” I kissed his cheek, but when I pulled away, his strong arms closed around me, tugging me hard against him and holding me there, pressed tight, chest to chest, thigh to thigh.
“That sad little peck was hardly a thank you at all, my goddess.”
Oh, he knew how to get to me, my Roland did. I smiled slowly and, leaning up, whispered into his ear, “Once we’re in the privacy of our cabin, I’ll thank you properly.” Then I nipped his earlobe and felt a rush of pleasure course through him.
Perhaps I was asking the impossible of him, but I knew my Roland. Even if I asked for us to go and live on the moon, he would make it happen. Besides, he was as smitten with Nikki and her brothers Ramses and Gareth, as I.
I leaned into his chest there on the deck, feeling blissful and even optimistic.
And then there was an ear splitting sound, the blast of a deep-throated horn, repeating itself over and over. I spun to face Roland. “What–?”
“It’s the alarm. Something must be wrong.”
The hatch flew open; Charlotte and Killian burst through, wide eyed. “We intercepted a transmission,” Charlotte shouted. “They’ve found us, Rhiannon. They’re heading this way. We have to get the children off this ship!”
“We’re miles from shore and we haven’t a single lifeboat,” I cried. “For the love of the gods, Roland, what are we going to do?”
“Rhiannon.” Roland put his hands on my shoulders, squeezed firmly. “You don’t panic in the face of attack. You never have. You’re more than equal to this challenge.”
“But the children—”
“Imagine the children aren’t here. Imagine it’s just you and me and a few mortals who can’t swim. What would you do? Hmm?”
I blinked slowly, knowing he was right. It was completely unlike me to panic. And moreover, in order to use the skills that made me more than just an ancient vampiress, skills I’d learned in my childhood. I needed to calm my mind, settle my spirit.
I shut the children out of my thoughts, a cold but necessary act. I detached my awareness from my body and connected to the gods.
As the others gathered around me on the deck of The Anemone, I stood near the rail, facing the midnight sea. My eyes were closed, my arms up and open wide in a crescent-like arc meant to emulate the moon. It was known as the Goddess Pose among practitioners of magic. I spoke in the ancient tongue of my ancestors and called down the strongest power I had ever channeled. Directly from Isis, I called it down, and She poured it out for me as She had never failed to do. I felt Her energy rushing through me.
“Look at her,” I heard little Nikki whispering. “She’s all light.”
Roland said, “Yes, child. Rhiannon is more than a vampire. Before she was ever changed, she was a powerful priestess of Isis. Maybe the most powerful ever to train in the temples of Ancient Egypt.”
I lowered my arms, opened my eyes, gazed down over the rail into the water. I could see with the Eyes of the Goddess. I could see far beneath the waves. And I scanned further and further from The Anemone. And then I spotted her; a shipwreck lying at the bottom of the Pacific. I focused on her, extended my arms out over the waters, palms down until the seas began to churn. And then slowly, I turned my palms up, and raised them inch by trembling inch.
“They’re fifteen minutes from us,” Charlie whispered urgently, but I tuned her out. Tuned all of them out, or nearly all, as the water became a bubbling froth.
“Roland, we have to do something,” the fledgling insisted.
“We are, C
harlotte. We are.” I was vaguely aware of Roland’s voice. Him, I could never tune out entirely, nor would I. Then he said, “Tell Killian to head The Anemone closer to where all that churning is.”
“What is that?” she whispered.
“I believe it’s our ride.”
I opened my eyes and saw the old ship rising from the deep, first her mast, bent and cracked. And then her body. Seawater cascaded from her deck as she broke surface and bobbed there beneath the midnight sky, shuddering, groaning, but staying afloat by the power of my magic.
The Anemone headed toward the ghost ship, and everyone around me was muttering, whispering. Charlotte’s mortal mother Trish and grandmother Roxanne, the oldest living member of The Chosen, so far as anyone knew. Christian was there, and Larissa, a timid young vampiress of exceptional beauty. Lucas, a former DPI officer, stood off by himself. He was always by himself, and I suspected he would leave our little band as soon as he could. Killian had gone to the bridge to maneuver The Anemone nearer. None of them had ever seen anything like what they were seeing now; a ghost ship rising from her grave.
Nikki looked up at me, her raven hair styled exactly like my own, long and black and straight, with bangs. Her eyes were wide. I think I had finally impressed her. I would drape the child in jewels and silks when we managed to get ourselves back to civilization.
She was my child. She was my daughter. No matter who had made her or how, she was mine. I would kill for her.
“Get us closer. Right up alongside,” Roland called out.
Charlotte cut loose a whistle, and within seconds the huge white owl that had become her companion swooped silently from the darkness to alight on her forearm.
“If she cuts you, you’ll bleed out, Charlotte,” her mother warned.
The Rhiannon Chronicles Page 1