The Paranormal Council Complete Series 1-5

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The Paranormal Council Complete Series 1-5 Page 16

by Laura Greenwood


  The smoke wound its way around her wrists and ankles, pulling her out so that she was hovering at waist height, unable to move. Yet another cliché as far as Rory was concerned. Only difference was that this time, she wasn’t happy playing the role of damsel in distress.

  "I've never used another necromancer as a blood slave before. Think of yourself as special, Aurora." If she hadn't already hated her full name, then she sure would after her run ins with Dean. She didn't even know what his fixation with her name was, but it came across as more than a little creepy.

  "You shouldn't be using anyone as a blood slave," she spat out, despite it not being in her best interests to do so. Above her, Dean chuckled, but it didn't have the same effect on her as it had before. Strapped to an invisible altar as she was, she felt more in control than she had previously. She also had the advantage of knowing how to use her own blood to perform magic, whereas Dean probably had to use others’ blood, meaning that he was likely far less powerful than she was.

  "According to whom? Your shifters? I'm really not sure what you see in them Aurora. Though I guess they are what caused your new life light. I should be thanking them."

  Rory wanted to attack him, preferably by scratching his eyes out with sharpened claws. She frowned to herself, not too sure where that thought had come from.

  "Least they know how to respect life," she answered. Her voice was stronger than she expected, but maybe that was just her projecting her new-found confidence.

  "Life is just there as a source of power, Aurora. What did your parents teach you?" He sneered down at her. He unsheathed a wicked looking knife, which was nothing like the small athames she used herself. "But then, it wasn't their fault was it. After all, your brother turned out alright, didn't he?" Rory shook her head, not wanting to think about the person her brother had become. Truth was, she didn't really know, nor did she want to.

  Dean didn't say anything, but leant down and sliced sharply along the sliver of skin exposed by her shirt. The sharp sting made Rory wince, and she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from crying out. Once the haze of pain passed slightly, she realised that it was now or never to find out if her plan would actually work.

  He started to hum, and Rory felt the familiar drag of power. There was something different about it compared to when she drew power from herself. In fact, it was verging on uncomfortable, which was also completely at odds with what Alden had told her about the experience too.

  Rory steeled herself, before beginning her own spell, trying to keep her humming low enough that Dean wouldn't notice immediately. If he’d thought about it in advance, then he’d have gagged her to stop this from happening. It took a few moments, but she felt the draw of power begin to slow. She smiled to herself, satisfied that her plan was working.

  Nervously, and not knowing if it would make any difference, she changed her spell slightly so that it wouldn't just stop Dean from drawing power from her, but would also start to cut through the magical bindings holding her. Once she was free of those, she’d stand a much better chance of getting away.

  "How are you doing that?" Dean demanded, the pull on her blood letting up a moment, and Rory could have sworn that his eyes had flashed red.

  Instead of answering, Rory just smiled, which had the added advantage of allowing her not to break her spell. She could already feel the bonds around her wrists weakening, and was relieved that it was working.

  A loud screech sounded overhead, and they both looked up. Rory smiled even wider, and increased the power she was directing to her spell. Dean’s expression changed to one of annoyance, probably due to his plans being interrupted again.

  The restraints gave way silently, at the same moment that a large grey owl swooped down into Dean's face, causing his concentration to break. Rory fell to the floor with a hard thump. Not that she cared; she was free of his magic and that was all that mattered.

  Rory began to summon more power, thinking back to the sound of the spell that Dean had cast for the restraints. Even knowing what he'd done, she knew that she couldn't kill him. Plus, the shifters needed him as proof to take before the High Council. He’d be a less convincing witness if he was dead.

  Dean slashed out, and Rory saw a flurry of feathers fall to the ground, just a few feet away. She wanted to cry out and go to Alden, but knew that she couldn't if she wanted to stop Dean. And if he got away, then she'd never be able to forgive herself.

  Impatient to get to Alden, she flung power away from herself towards Dean, willing him to be unable to move until she chose otherwise. Feeling light headed, probably from drawing too much power from herself, she stumbled over to Alden and collapsed into a heap. After checking that he was still breathing, Rory's eyes fluttered a few times, before closing and letting the darkness descend.

  15

  Alden clutched Rory's hand, willing her to wake up with everything he had. He wasn't sure exactly what had happened after he'd been cut by Dean's knife, but he'd woken up to find a surprising number of shifters about, led by a very worried looking Ari.

  "She'll wake up soon, Al," a familiar voice said, and Alden looked up in shock. A short woman in nurse’s scrubs and tidy blonde hair, stood before him.

  "Janelle?" he asked, surprised to find her here. Particularly as they were in Rory’s flat. She smiled at him weakly.

  "Ms Reed asked me to check on the two of you. I don't think she knows about our past," she said apologetically. Alden was sure that Ari hadn't known, or she'd never have sent Janelle. "She's nothing like me," Janelle said sadly, looking at Rory.

  "No."

  "I'm sorry, Alden. I shouldn't have just left like I did. God, I've waited years to be able to say that." She smiled again, a little stronger this time.

  "Why did you leave?" he asked, dying to know what had made him so angry, and lonely, for years. Even if he didn’t feel any of that anymore, his curiosity still needed to be sated. He glanced at the bed and smiled. No wonder he felt better about it. He had Rory now. Or he would. When she woke up.

  "You thought we were it. I knew we weren't and wanted to spare myself the heartache further down the line. What would have happened if I'd stayed and you'd met her? Would you have been able to stay away? Because I doubt it."

  "And now? Are you happy?" he asked, choosing to ignore her question. They both knew that he wouldn’t have been able to resist the pull of his true mate, and there was no point denying it.

  "Not like you are, but maybe one day," she replied, before checking on Rory's vitals. Alden didn’t know exactly what she was doing, but he’d never actually seen human medical equipment that wasn’t on TV before, so he wasn’t likely to understand.

  "Alden?" Rory's eyes fluttered open as she asked for him. Instantly, he forgot about Janelle, and turned his attention back to his bed bound mate. Some of the colour had returned to her cheeks, but her brown eyes still seemed a little glazed.

  "Shh, baby. It's alright," he soothed automatically.

  "What happened?" she croaked. Janelle finished up what she was doing.

  "Everything appears to be fine. Bye Alden," Janelle said, leaving the room with a wistful smile.

  "Who was that?" Rory asked, clearer this time. She shuffled up so she was sat up in bed.

  "Janelle. She was my..." he searched for the right term, but nothing seemed to fit. "When I was eighteen, I thought she was may mate." He settled on the truth. Telling her was the right thing to do, otherwise the lie would eat away at him for years to come.

  "Oh," Rory said, her tone indiscernible. He hoped that she wasn’t too hurt by the fact he had a romantic past; that had never been his intention.

  "She pointed out that if she’d stayed, and once I met you, I'd have left her."

  "And would you?" She sounded genuinely curious.

  "Does saying yes make me a bad man?" he wondered, half to himself.

  "Maybe," she admitted, a thoughtful look crossed her face, and Alden was relieved to see her looking better than she had before. "But I
guess we'll never know." She laced her fingers through his and gave him a warm smile.

  "I guess not."

  "You didn't tell me what happened. With Dean," she reminded him. Alden sighed. He only knew what Ari had told him anyway, hopefully that would appease her.

  "Ari turned up shortly after you'd done whatever it was that you did. Found us both unconscious. But she had to get Nathalie to come and release some of the bonds you'd put in place. Did you know that unicorn shifters are immune to necromancer magic?" Rory shook her head. "Neither did anyone else, they managed to keep that one quiet. He’s being taken in front of the High Council, they'll decide what to do with him. They’ve suspended the Necromancer Council too."

  "I bet Aella Dentro's having a field day," Rory said with a smile. Alden imagined that Aella would finally manage to get her law banning blood slaves through on the back of this.

  "How’re you feeling?" he asked, changing the subject.

  "Better I think. What was even wrong with me?" Her face scrunched up in an adorable confused expression.

  "Magical exhaustion they think. One of the witches that the new Council member knows told us about it. We didn't know any necromancers to ask," he explained. He’d worried the entire time that the witches’ treatments wouldn’t work, but thankfully they seemed to have taken.

  "I've never suffered it before," she looked concerned by that.

  "You've never used so much power before. You trapped him in a prison of magic, Rory. It was quite something." He'd seen it himself once he’d come around, and had been in awe of what his mate was capable of. "You're amazing."

  "Thanks," she mumbled, looking away as if she couldn't take the compliment. Alden tipped her chin back so her eyes met his.

  "You're amazing, Rory,” he repeated. “And I love you."

  "I love you too."

  The End

  The Vampire’s Bite

  The Vampire’s Bite Blurb

  What if the only way to save him was to turn him into a monster?

  * * *

  Tony never asked to be a vampire. He didn't even know they existed until he interrupted the wrong man.

  * * *

  Eden has always avoided turning anyone, but there was something about Tony that made her do it. But now, she has to face the consequences of her actions that night. And adding a new vampire into the mix, doesn't make that any easier.

  * * *

  Book 4 in the Paranormal Council Novella Series. A shifter/vampire romance with a standalone couple.

  1

  Eden paced back and forth, cursing herself inwardly for her own stupidity. She was several centuries old, she really should know better than to turn someone. Never mind someone who was previously unaware of the existence of paranormals. Then again, Todd had gone on yet another attempted rampage, as he seemed to do every once in a while. She'd told Florence that it was a bad idea to turn an American mobster, but the other woman hadn't listened, and now poor Flo was in hiding; though Eden supposed she could send a message to her now that Todd was gone.

  Which led to another thought; Maurice wasn't going to be happy at all. She really shouldn't have staked Todd like she did, but with the witches about, not to mention a dying human, she really hadn't had a choice in the matter. Maurice would just have to live with the decision.

  The man in question was laid out on Eden's bed, and she glanced back towards him, worried about what was happening to him. It’d been over a hundred years since she'd turned someone, and at that point in time, Dimitri had been a willing participant in the transformation. Until he'd woken up anyway. He'd been one of the few vampire fledglings to go feral, and she'd had to take him before the Vampire Elders while fighting back tears. It'd been Maurice who'd struck the killing blow, and Eden had never truly forgiven him for it. Before the failed turning, Dimitri had been her best friend, and the only person she'd ever told her secret to. And his loss still stung whenever she thought about it. Which was pretty much any time she saw Maurice, and since she was a Vampire Elder herself now, that was a regular occurrence.

  "Where am I?" a gravelly male voice asked. Eden rushed to the man's side, and looked down at his fevered face. His eyelids fluttered a few times, revealing green eyes that were out of focus. His short dark hair was plastered to his head, leaving little doubt that her blood had taken and the turn was almost complete.

  Eden couldn't remember her own turning, whether it was because it was so long ago, or because it'd been a particularly traumatic an experience, she wasn't sure. What she was sure of was that she shouldn't have survived. At least not according to vampire lore, or to the mother that disowned her once she'd learned of Eden's fate. It was probably best that she remembered that much, or her mother’s rejection would still be breaking her heart. Even after two hundred years. As it was, Eden had managed to box that betrayal up and bury it away deep within her where no one would ever find it. And that was the same day that Eden had sworn she’d never reveal her secret to anyone, no matter what happened.

  The man grabbed hold of Eden's hand, and something that felt suspiciously like a bolt of electricity passed through her. Eden ignored it, figuring that it was likely to be a figment of her imagination brought on by the stress of the situation. After all, nothing else made sense. She'd lost all of her parents’ abilities, save one, when she'd become a vampire.

  "Where am I?" the man repeated, his words slurring together.

  "You're at my flat," Eden replied softly, despite knowing that it would mean nothing to the man. He'd never even met her before, and he'd already been unconscious when she'd found him the night before. Even so, sometimes hearing a soothing voice was all someone needed.

  The man's eyelids flew open, and his green gaze fixed on her, surprisingly clear given how hazy they'd appeared just moments before.

  "Who are you?" he asked, confusion and suspicion warring for dominance on his face. Understandably so as far as Eden was concerned.

  "I'm Eden, I..." she trailed off. She'd meant to add that she'd saved him, but if he couldn't remember the events leading up to his turning, then it was better not to remind him of them so soon.

  "I feel off," he muttered, making Eden snort. It wasn't really funny, but off didn't even begin to describe the way he felt right now.

  She smiled at him, in what she hoped was a reassuring way, but likely wasn't. She wondered why no one had ever told her how difficult it was to tell someone they were now a vampire. Then again, most people probably realised they’d been turned at the same point she had; with their fangs half buried into someone's neck. At least the fangs themselves hadn't been new to Eden. Just the drinking blood bit. She'd grown up believing that there would only ever be one person whose blood she'd taste, and it sure as hell wasn't meant to be the elderly monk it had been.

  "You will do," she said softly, still debating how to tell him what was happening. "You're not the same anymore..." she trailed off again, this time realising that she had no idea what the man's name was. She gave him a questioning look, which thankfully, he seemed to understand.

  "Tony," he said.

  "Short for Anthony?" She wasn't sure why she'd asked, or if it was even important, but when she got urges like that, she just went with them. She was too old to bother avoiding the questions she wanted to ask.

  "Yes, though no one's ever called me that. Even my parents called me Tony as a child."

  "Do you remember going out last night?" she asked, not wanting to rush him into remembering and breaking the calm they both seemed to be feeling, but also not wanting to hide the truth from him for too long. That would be a sure-fire way to make him angry. And she really didn't want an angry vampire on her hands.

  "Yes," he said slowly.

  "Any more than that?" she prompted.

  "I don't remember getting to the club," he said, a zoned out look in his eyes as he tried to recall what had gone on. Eden said nothing, and just waited for him to speak again. "There was a commotion in the alley, I went to go see what w
as going on," he added.

  "A foolish thing to do," Eden muttered, thinking about the mess she'd had to clear up. It hadn't been Tony's fault he got caught up in it really, just like it wasn't the witches' faults either. The four of them had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  Really, Eden should be thanking them. She'd wanted an excuse to rid the world of Todd for years, if not decades, and this had presented the perfect opportunity. She'd tried to get him the legal way too many times for her to trust that the other Vampire Elders would condemn him, even if they should. Really the whole system was outdated if anyone asked her. Especially now that the High Council was being stricter on everyone.

  Just last week, the Necromancer Council had been suspended while they were investigated. Probably something to do with the shifters. They seemed to be gaining more and more power by the day, despite being small in number. She guessed that's what happened when there was a strong leader in place. And no one that had ever heard of Arabella Reed could deny that she was weak. In some ways, Eden envied the shifter. Despite only being in her thirties, Arabella not only had a career of her own, and the ability to make a difference within the world of paranormal politics, but it was rumoured that she was now happily mated.

  It was that more than anything that caused Eden's envy. She'd been alone for centuries. And sure, there'd been men, and even one or two that she thought could be the one, but she'd still not found her one true mate. She couldn't even talk to other vampires about it. It wasn’t the same for them.

  "Eden?" Tony's voice broke through her inner thoughts, and she looked back at him to see a confused look on his face.

 

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