Myths and Magic: An Epic Fantasy and Speculative Fiction Boxed Set

by K.N. Lee

  I graduated high school two years early, and attending the University of West Florida was the first fight for freedom I managed to win with my parents. They wanted me to go through an online college, but I insisted that no matter what my career choice at some point I would have to come into contact with people.

  I had spent the last eight years slowly inserting myself into a seminormal early adulthood, and I must have been fairly successful because they didn’t fight me on my decision to get a graduate degree. I chose psychology because secretly I believed my abilities were nothing more than an extreme manifestation of some kind of anxiety disorder.

  The analyzer in me was beginning to rear its head. I observed Aunt Vivian frowning as she stared out into the distance, afraid to ask the question that was beating down on me. But if I was going to be staying with her I needed to know who she was.

  “Aunt Vivian, do you practice dark magic?”

  She welcomed the distraction from whatever was going on in her mind. “Of course I have at one time or another, but I don’t make a habit of it.”

  She said it so nonchalantly it was a little troubling, and I didn’t have any desire to learn the details of her past. What if she had hexed someone? Everyone had heard of Voodoo dolls and I’d bet she’d used her share.

  “Did my mother practice as well?”

  “Your mother was the Queen!”

  “What does that mean?” She had used the term along with priestess, but she hadn’t elaborated.

  “She led our community. Once she died I took over as matriarch, but I was never announced as the new Queen. I was training Camille to take over my position, and it killed me to take the role outside of the family. But now I don’t have to do that. And with the amount of power you have, you’ll be Queen in no time.”

  Surely she wasn’t suggesting I convert into her world of magic? I tensed at the expectation, but her eyes looked so hopeful I knew it would break her heart if I chose not to.

  “Aunt Vivian, I have to return to Florida next week.”

  Her brow creased and her smile faded. “But you’ve only just gotten here!”

  “I know, but I have to start school again in the fall.”

  “It’s barely June. You can stay a while longer, can’t you?”

  “I…I don’t know—”

  “Eliza, stay a few weeks. Learn about your history and about the religion you were born into. It’s almost Saint John’s Eve and a perfect opportunity for you to see what kind of life you could have here. No other day is as powerful. At the end of the summer if you still want to leave, then you can. But there are colleges here too, you know.”

  I sighed heavily. I wanted to learn about this world. I belonged here, I could feel it. But I was also terrified of what was under the surface of it all. There was a reason the true members of the religion stayed so hidden, and if my dream was any indication of what it was all about, there was no wonder. I needed to think about it all, but it didn’t make any difference whether I thought about it here or back home.

  “All right, I’ll change my flight,” I caved.

  “Wonderful!” Aunt Vivian jumped to her feet with excitement. Why was she was so limber today when just yesterday she couldn’t bring herself to her feet without assistance? Perhaps she had taken one of the healing baths she had drawn for me last night. It really was remarkably relaxing. Of course what aches would a twenty-four-year-old have in comparison to Aunt Vivian?

  The sky was darkening, and we made our way through the maze of crypts back to Aunt Vivian’s house. I kept my distance from the frightening tree until I noticed someone standing behind it.

  I stopped. Did the Voodoo community still have enemies? The thought spiked my adrenaline. Maybe the person was going to jump us when we passed a quiet alley? My aunt was their leader. If there were enemies to speak of, she would be an ideal victim.

  A surge of protectiveness came over me, and I charged over to the tree, paying no attention to the features that had once made me uneasy. Whoever it was would have to look me in the face if they were going to hurt the only family I had left.

  “Eliza!”

  Aunt Vivian called me from where I had left her, but I ignored it. She tried to follow me as I closed in on my target, so I turned to motion her to stop and wait. I sprinted to run around the trunk to the other side.

  There was no one.

  “Are you following me?”

  I jumped when Samuel appeared from behind me and questioned my presence.

  “Don’t be stupid,” I spat, sore from the startle. “Aunt Vivian and I were visiting, and I thought I saw someone watching us.”

  “And you thought you’d take him on all by your big-girl self?”

  My jaw dropped at the insult. How dare he suggest I wasn’t capable of taking care of myself?

  “Yes, as a matter of fact. Despite what they teach you boys in gym class, women don’t require your protection. We can defend ourselves.”

  His lips twitched as he tried to bite back a smile but it broke through anyway. I was proud of myself for being the one to crack the shell.

  “I must’ve been cutting the day they taught that. It doesn’t ring a bell.”

  “Shut up,” I teased. “What were you doing out here, anyway?”

  “We should go. It’s about to rain.”

  I rolled my eyes at the way he was always so vague. Ominous clouds were beginning to build. I brought my attention back to Aunt Vivian, whose fists were planted firmly on her hips in irritation. I decided to leave the pressing alone for now, but I had officially made it my little project to get this man to open up to me.

  7

  Tossing and turning in bed that night, I was unable to sleep with everything running through my mind. Was I really going to stay with a woman who admitted to practicing black magic? I was starting to regret having gone through with changing my flight reservations once we got home, but Aunt Vivian insisted I do it immediately. She said she didn’t want me to forget but I think she just didn’t want me to have the opportunity to change my mind.

  I wished with all my heart my mother was here. She always knew what to say to make me feel better about my choices the way all mothers seem to. I wiped a tear that fell down my cheek and tried to think of something else.

  What would she have to say about Samuel? A small, involuntary smile curved from my lips when I thought his name. Surely he couldn’t hear me all the way in here, could he? I don’t know what it was about him, but even in my dreams I couldn’t pretend I didn’t want him. I knew nothing about him, not even his last name, but ever since the first time his face was shown to me in my sleep I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I remembered what Marcus called him earlier: My keeper. What did that mean?

  Deciding I was going to find out, I got out of bed. I walked to the door and caught a glimpse of my reflection in the hanging body-length mirror to my right. Thank God it had caught my eye. I was a mess in my dad’s old Baltimore Ravens T-shirt and my raggedy gym shorts. My hair was a frizzy disaster. There was no way I would be caught dead looking so disheveled.

  I changed into a silk pink camisole that was laced with white around the bust. It purposefully showed of my large breasts and narrowed in the waist, giving the illusion I was a size four instead of a size six—an edge I would need if I was in competition with the slender Miss Camille.

  Chastising myself for the pettiness, I squeezed into a pair of much too tight black jeans that complemented my bottom just perfectly. After putting on a deceptive layer of makeup that looked completely au natural, I pulled my hair into a pretty pony. Admiring myself in the mirror for a minute, I decided I was as good as I was going to get and made my way to the door.

  When I opened it I startled myself as much as Samuel with a shriek at the sight of him. He was seductively leaned up against my door frame facing in, waiting for me. He had on dark blue jeans that faded at the knee, and a white undershirt showed on the inside of a black leather jacket he wore much too temptingly.
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br />   “You look beautiful,” he whispered.

  “Thank you. You look ruggedly dashing.”

  “You want to go for a walk?” It was more of a statement than a question.

  I pursed my lips. “I was thinking that might be a good idea, but you knew that already.”

  He flashed a charming smile and extended his hand in a gentlemanly fashion. I brought mine to meet his, but then he snatched his back when he remembered who he would be escorting. I frowned at the rejection, especially as Camille conveniently passed by us at the end of the hall. Cursing to myself, I took the lead and stomped down the stairs.

  “That language wasn’t very ladylike,” he teased as he locked his arm into mine when we were outside. My heart pounded against my ribcage when his arm touched mine. Even through the leather he gave me goose bumps. He jerked away, but I gave him a pacifying glance and he froze.

  “I don’t want to do anything that will make you uncomfortable, Eliza.”

  “You’re not hurting me,” I assured him sweetly. “I’ll tell you if you do. I promise.”

  I knew I didn’t need me to make the promise. He would know if he hurt me but I wanted him to know I wouldn’t try to hide it from him. His muscles released and we wandered the neighborhood until we came to a small lake and sat on the edge of an old wooden dock to talk.

  “So, Ms. Vivian tells me you’ll be staying with us?”

  “Only for a little while longer. She seems to want me to stay for Saint John’s Eve. Whatever that is.”

  “Saint John’s Eve is when we perform the baptisms.”

  A small, nagging panic lifted chaos into my chest.

  “You don’t think she’s expecting me to convert?”

  He looked at me as if I was a silly girl asking an obvious question. I knew the answer. Aunt Vivian was planning to baptize me into the Voodoo religion, or cult, or whatever it was, and she wasn’t even going to prepare me for it! Did she think I would just submit to something so important without any knowledge of what I was getting myself into? Balling my fists at my side, I found myself filled with anger at the notion. How dare she think just because I’m her niece that she could do no less than order me to do something this way? She must have thought if I joined the community I would stay in Louisiana for good. A stern frown on Samuel’s face revealed his concern. He had let the cat out of the bag.

  “I’m sorry, Eliza. I thought you knew, I just assumed that’s what you two were talking about earlier. Besides, you have to convert if you’re going to take over as priestess.”

  The sweetness in his voice quelled the waves of turmoil inside. It bothered me to realize he could do that anytime he wanted. That was a dangerous gift. The glow on his face told me he too was expecting me to become the Queen of his little community, and it fueled the rampaging tornado of confusion that was swirling around in my head. There wouldn’t be anything that could convince me to leave if he asked me to stay. I would stay for him.

  His cheeks turned crimson and while I was proud of myself for making him blush for a change, I was embarrassed by what he had heard me thinking.

  “I was raised Catholic.” I changed the subject. “You don’t understand. I have already been baptized.”

  “Voodoo and Catholicism really aren’t that different.” He shrugged.

  “That’s what Aunt Vivian said. It’s been a while since I’ve attended church, but I don’t remember being taught how to cast spells at mass.”

  Samuel shook his head and tried to hide his amusement. “It’s true. Of course there are differences but really, Voodooism isn’t as scary as everybody thinks. We believe in God. We believe in Jesus Christ. But we also believe in loas—what you might know as angels. They carry our prayers to God for us. And then there’s you: the witch doctor.”

  “I’m not a witch! I don’t ride around a broom finding ways to hex people,” I snarled.

  “It’s not a bad thing, Eliza. It’s just a name. You just need to adapt your meaning of it. And by the way, there is a little truth to the broom thing. The priestess uses a broom to sweep away bad energy.”

  “What? Get out of here!”

  “Seriously.” He snickered only shortly before he his tone returned to its more natural solemnity. “You can’t run from who you are. You’re special. You’re going to be just as special in Florida as you are here. You might as well surround yourself with people who understand what you are instead of with people that fear it.”

  I hated that he made sense. There were people elsewhere that accepted me—Aunt Patrice and Uncle Charlie loved me. But they couldn’t ever really understand what I was, and besides, they were even farther away than here. Was there anything left for me in Florida? I could always sell the house and buy one here. At least I had someone to call family in New Orleans. And there was someone here I wanted to be with. It sounded right. All of it fit together, but it was too much at once.

  “Why are you fighting it so hard?”

  I gaped. The directness in his question caught me off guard.

  “Samuel, I just found out that I was adopted. I hopped on a plane and flew here with a man who was supposed to help me find out who I am and abandoned me in a diner while I was being attacked. Some mind-reading Prince Charming comes to my rescue and brings me to a woman who tells me I’m the lost priestess of a Voodoo cult. Sorry if I don’t come running to the idea.”

  “Sounds as if that could make one hell of a Disney movie.”

  My mouth dropped open at the unexpected dig, but I appreciated the giggle it gave me. Pushing playfully at his shoulder, I nearly knocked him into the water, and he grabbed my arm in reflex. Catching his mistake, he let go immediately, but the warmth still lingered where his fingers had been.

  “I’m sorry,” he said with a sincere, apologetic tone.

  “Don’t be sorry. You didn’t hurt me.”

  It wasn’t a lie. I almost thought I was finally going to feel the sensation Aunt Vivian had briefly explained before he took his hand away. Now I was clenching my jaw out of frustration and irritation, but I was even more determined to defeat his bipolar approach to me.

  “Aunt Vivian said you have been watching me. How long?” I eyed him intently for some sign he returned my attraction.

  “A long time.”

  I huffed at the lacking reply. “What is a long time?”

  “Ten years.”

  “Ten years?” I echoed with astonishment. “How have you been watching me for ten years? You’re not much older than me.”

  “Well, I could always feel your presence, but I moved to Florida to watch over you when I was sixteen. I came back here a few times a year to report to the elders.”

  “So, the community has always known I survived the fire? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “What would you have done if a stranger came up to you and told you any of this?”

  “Does the stranger look like you?” I smirked.

  He arched his brow, and I melted at the sexiness that oozed out of him. Taking a deep breath to calm the butterflies filling my stomach did little, so I resorted to fidgeting with the hem of my shirt.

  “You can read my thoughts anyway,” I said. “There’s no use not just saying it.”

  “Fair enough.” He looked away, refusing eye contact. My boldness had discomposed him.

  We stared up at the twinkling stars in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, pretending to be interested in the way they peeked through the thick leaves on the tree branches. Just when I thought I had thoroughly humiliated myself, he shifted his body so that his arm came behind me and I was leaning into his shoulder. He coolly pointed out constellations.

  “That’s Ophiuchus, the serpent bearer. If you look closely you can see him and the snakes he’s holding.”

  “He’s the reason I’m not an Aquarius anymore,” I joked.

  Distracted by the warmth radiating from his closeness, I paid minimal attention to his fingers while they traced the stars, and almost no attention to most of wha
t he said. The scent of him was overwhelming my senses—I never knew cedar could smell so inviting. My gaze moved to his lips, and I watched them as he spoke. My stomach tightened and my heart changed pace, taking turns beating faster and slower. I wanted to kiss him, but I couldn’t make myself move.

  He looked down at me right on cue.

  He wasn’t talking anymore, and his eyes held mine. The shades of green in them danced in the moonlight. His gaze was so enchanting, so inebriating it was as though he held my world. As he moved his lips closer to mine I could feel his warm breath on my face. The feeling made me quiver. His soul was calling mine.

  The anticipation was almost painful. Never had I needed something as badly as I needed to feel his touch in that moment. I reached my hand to graze his chin and for a moment it looked as though he was going to let me continue.

  He had a change of heart at the last minute. Raising his arm to block my contact, the blade of rejection cut deep into me, shattering the confidence I had an abundance of only seconds before. I bit my lip to hold back the tears that were beginning to creep into my eyes and turned away.

  “Eliza,” he started softly.

  “It’s all right. Don’t worry about it.”

  “You don’t understand, I can’t…”

  He trailed off and his ambiguity only made it hurt worse. He had wanted me. I could feel it. The energy his body expelled was unmistakably different than anything I had ever absorbed before, but it was also as clear as day. He was going to kiss me.

  Why did he pull away? I didn’t know why he was so reluctant to admit it to himself, to me, but the more I thought about it the faster my hurt turned into anger. He was giving me mixed signals that were making me feel as though I was an idiot, and it wasn’t fair.

  Shaking from the rush of emotions, I didn’t even want an explanation anymore. I let out a growl as I rushed to my feet and stalked off, leaving him alone on the dock.