by Joy Nash
He climbed out of bed naked and reached for his robe. He had sixty years if he had a day, but he cut as fine a figure as any human thirty years his junior. If Morgana had a taste for men, she supposed she’d be tempted. Thankfully, manly bits left her unmoved.
“Morgana,” Collum said as he cinched his belt. “I know you disapprove, but—” He cut off as the two females in his bed, having presumably gulped some fresh air into their generous lungs, renewed their caterwauling.
He winced. “Lasses! Please! Silence!”
The blond immediately shut her mouth. The brunette made a few more squeaking sounds before she subsided. Morgana very much doubted Collum even knew their given names. The man wasn’t much for such details.
She set the bucket on the floor. “Lasses,” she said quietly. “Gather your clothes and go.”
They pair of them did, and quickly. Hurried along, no doubt, by Morgana’s expression. The blond paused to blow Collum a kiss on her way out the door. Morgana rolled her eyes.
When they were at last alone, Collum turned to face her, arms crossed over his substantial chest. “Damn it, Morgana. Why can’t you just let me be?”
“Why can’t you let those human lasses be? How old were they, anyway?”
“Of age,” he said succinctly. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“And they weren’t even witches.” It was unnatural, her cousin’s penchant for magicless human lovers.
He shrugged. “You might be happy with a witch in your bed. I prefer otherwise. It’s my business, innit? Just because I live in your bleeding castle doesn’t mean... ”
He must have taken a closer look at her expression, because his complaints died on his lips. His gaze sharpened. “Something’s happened,” he said. “What?”
Morgana drew up her sleeve. An oaken cuff, carved in the form of a dragon, encircled her upper arm. An emerald had once formed the dragon’s eye, but for the last seven years, a ruby had taken its place.
The gem was aglow.
“Holy shite,” Collum muttered. “First demons swarming th’ skies, now this.” Turning abruptly, he rooted around on his nightstand. He lifted a silver chain, from which dangled a disc of apple wood. The ruby in the center, a matching gem to her own, shone like blood.
“Mab,” he muttered. “What could the bitch be about after all these years? We’ve done as we were told. We’ve neither of us set foot out of Scotland since that terrible day. She should let us be.”
“She’s the clan alpha,” Morgana said grimly. “She owns our fealty. She can command us as she wishes.”
“What do you suppose the bloody besom wants?”
“I cannot imagine.”
Collum’s fingers closed on the disc. The light shone through his fingers. “We could ignore her summons.”
“Are ye daft? She’d kill us both. She came within an inch of it seven years ago.”
“If she wanted us dead,” Collum said, “we’d be dead. Like—” He looked away.
Morgana swallowed past the lump in her throat. Like Magnus, he’d been about to say. Morgana’s twin had challenged Mab, and had given his life in the effort to defeat her. Morgana felt the loss as if it had happened yesterday, rather than seven empty years ago. At least, she told herself yet again, Magnus had died during the duel. If he hadn’t, Mab would have taken him as a thrall.
“If only,” she began. “If only Tristan had—”
“Stop.” Collum held up his hand. “Dinnae go there, lass. It’ll only upset you. There’s no sense in dwelling on what’s over and done.”
‘Lass,’ he called her, though she was barely a decade younger than he. As for his advice, it was fine and true, Morgana was sure, but she’d never been able to take it to heart.
“Damn Alwen for her weakness,” she spat. “How could that Alchemist bastard have cozened her so completely? She was a disgrace to Merlin’s line. ‘Twould have been better had she died during her Ordeal.”
“So you’ve said,” Collum reminded her. “Many times. Over, and over, and over—”
“And the lad.” The loss of the lad, the last of Merlin’s direct line, had been a crushing blow. “Arthur would be almost of age now, had he survived.”
“Well, he didn’t survive,” her cousin said flatly. “He died. Accept it. Forget it.”
“If only I could,” Mab murmured.
But she knew it would never happen. Not on this side of Oblivion.
BOOKS BY JOY NASH
The Druids of Avalon Series
The ancestors of King Arthur guard the magic of Camelot
Celtic Fire
Rhiannon’s loyalties are split between her clan and the Roman soldier who has captured her heart.
The Grail King
A mysterious cup and the Roman woman searching for it hold the key to Owein’s future
Deep Magic
Gwen and Marcus are consumed by forces beyond their control as together they forge Excalibur
Silver Silence
Rhys travels into the future to find Breena in the company of a wily old Druid whose magic and methods feel disturbingly familiar
The Immortals
USA Today Bestselling Series
The Awakening
A witch travels to the Scottish Highlands to convince a cynical Immortal Warrior to join the fight for the survival of the human race
The Crossing
A Celtic demigod descends into the depths of Hell to rescue the soul of a dark witch’s child
Blood Debt
After escaping a century of enslavement, a tortured vampire vows to take his revenge on the beautiful Celtic Sidhe who killed him
Also by Joy Nash!
A Little Light Magic
Summer at the Jersey Shore turns scorching when a girl with no family meets a guy with too much
Looking for a Hero
Can geeky superhero Clark Kendall stand up for himself, outwit the evil genius, and save the world? And get the girl? Before time runs out?
Christmas Unplugged
2 sisters + 2 brothers + 0 electricity = 1 hot Christmas vacation!
About the Author
Joy Nash is a USA Today Bestselling Author and RITA Award Finalist applauded by Booklist for her “tart wit, superbly crafted characters, and sexy, magic-steeped plots.”
When Joy was seven years old, she read a book about a girl who lived on the moon. She thought it was real until her big sister came along and messed up the story with the truth. Ever since, Joy’s been of the opinion that fiction is way more interesting than reality. She credits her love of tortured heroes to the Brontë sisters, her fascination with magical adventure to J.R.R. Tolkien, and her weakness for snarky humor to Douglas Adams.
Connect with Joy
facebook.com/joynash/
twitter: @sunflowerM0M
joynash.blogspot.com
May the stories never end!
Copyright
The Night Everything Fell Apart
The Nephilim: Book One
Copyright © 2016 by Joy Nash
ISBN-13: 978-1-941017-01-2
Published by: joynash books, llc
Doylestown PA, USA
Cover design by The Killion Group
Interior design by Joy Nash
Digital formatting by formatting4U
All Rights Reserved.
Scanning, uploading, downloading, decompiling, reverse-engineering, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the copyright holder, except for use in any review, constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. The reproduction, utilization, or sharing of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereinafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the copyright holder, Joy Nash.
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This is
a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual names or persons, living or dead, or to places, events, organizations, business establishments, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
First Edition: October 2016