by Isobael Liu
Back Cover Copy
All she wanted was a quiet, normal life...but you don't always get what you want.
Lilian Quinn came to this remote town to start a new life. No one knew she had escaped from Custodes Secreti, a secret organization dedicated to using people with strange abilities for their own ends. All she wanted was a quiet, normal existence. Even if it meant living a lie.
Matthias Romulus was content to be the Alpha werewolf of the local pack, until he bumped into Lilian. Powerfully drawn to her, he stepped in to help her when the Custodes Secreti tracked her down. He didn’t know she was trained in much more than waiting tables.
With Lilian’s murderous ex-boyfriend coming after her and secret agents on her trail, the strange dreams she’s been having are only the beginning. Matthias has problems of his own with his pack giving ultimatums. Can a psychic woman and an alpha wolf come together to resolve the issues of their hearts—and the issues of their continued survival?
Highlight
Her eyes widened in horror as she took in the sight of what had been once an ordered and comfortable living room. Her furniture was broken, tossed about like trash. Tears rose in her eyes and she had to blink them back, forcing herself to look around. Her pillows and cushions had been slashed, the stuffing spilling out. She switched on the lights, and the damage to her home became abruptly clear. As did the message on the wall, written in red.
Remember the pain, kitten.
As though in a stupor, she made her way closer to the wall, her mind not taking in the message as much as the red liquid used to write it.
Paint? Please, let it be paint .
She reached out with a shaky hand to touch the ink but Matthias grabbed her hand, and pulled her away.
“No, Lilian. We have to call the police.”
She looked away from the wall and glanced around yet again at the destruction. It was then she saw the dead cat. If it hadn’t been for the blood, she would have thought it to be a stuffed animal, but in the bright light, the blood was a brilliant crimson.
Moonlight and Magick
978-1-61650-148-8
Copyright © 2010, Isobael Liu
Edited by Lea Schizas
Book design by Brian Hunter
Cover Art by Renee Rocco
First Lyrical Press, Inc. electronic publication: May, 2010
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PUBLISHER'S NOTE:
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
Published in the United States of America by Lyrical Press, Incorporated
Dedication
To my husband, Spike, and my daughter, Pixie-Brat, who supported me while I wrote this book. To Lynn, for being my best friend, even if you live a billion miles away. To my parents, who always encouraged me to write.
I love you all.
Prologue
It was a scene repeated many times over in her young life. Lilian couldn’t remember a time when John wasn’t hitting Jane, the woman she called Mama, but it’d never been this bad. She watched as it went on and on, screaming as John kicked Mama, as he yelled and cursed.
It didn’t look like he would ever stop.
She couldn’t take any more. The world seemed like it turned upside down and sideways, making her tummy ache. There was a buzzing in her ears, like hovering bees. She dragged herself to her feet, gaping at her stepfather and the now unrecognizable form of her mama on the floor of their home. All Lilian could see was the blood, the bright red splatter decorating the floor and the wall. She could hear the squelching noises made with each blow.
The buzzing grew louder and louder until she covered her ears.
Lilian took in his reddened face, blood stained suit, and watched as the monstrous expression turned to confusion. He’d noticed the objects around the room, circling the two of them.
Vases, jewelry, pillows, her mother’s hairbrush, items no heavier than her parents’ bedside lamps, flew through the air, collided with one another, and smashed against the walls. She watched as they flew at John, striking him again and again.
He turned and gawked at her in horror.
“You freak. I knew something was wrong with you. Spawn of the devil!”
Lilian was taken by an inner calm, unafraid. Even though tears dripped from her cheeks and ragged, uneven breaths tore at her lungs, it was like she was watching from the outside. Not part of the chaos happening in the room.
Her stepfather grabbed his chest as his face twisted in a grimace. He gasped aloud, trying to breathe, but couldn’t. His skin went from red to white, and to a pale blue. Several moments later, he fell onto the floor, a horrified expression in his dulling eyes.
Lilian looked back at him as he took his last breath.
The moment he died, everything dropped to the floor and became still, silent. Her shaking hands fell to her sides and she bolted out of the room to her secret hiding place.
What had she done?
It took two days before anyone came to the house. Lilian, weak, exhausted, and hungry, heard the sirens approaching, which later became voices downstairs. There was the sound of mumbling in the distance, coming from below, but she remained hidden.
The voices grew louder, clearer, and called her name. Curling up into a tighter ball, she pulled the blankets around her until hidden away, safely concealed.
The voices went away, but returned some time later, accompanied by the sounds of moving objects.
The closer they came, the more still and tense she became, like a baby deer hiding from hunters in the tall grass. She heard boxes shuffled and old trunks scraped across the wooden floor. The dresser was next, and soon her blankets were carefully pulled aside.
“I found her!” a man called, and the sound of hurried movements followed.
A hand touched her cheek, warm against her cold skin. She jerked back and opened her eyes.
“She’s alive!”
A collective cheer came from the rescue workers and her body jolted. Her heart raced, and her breathing became rapid and shallow.
Everything went black.
Chapter 1
Hawk’s Point was known as a waypoint for hikers and campers who braved the Mount Rainier National Forest. It was a small town Lilian had wandered into a couple of years ago, and immediately fell in love with. It was perfect. No one knew about her past or her true identity. This was her chance to start over, live a simple life, away from the larger cities. Seattle, especially.
The residents of her new home recognized her as Lilian Quinn and accepted her as a welcomed member of their tight knit community. Regardless if everyone knew what skeletons lurked in their neighbors’ closets, they didn’t know her secrets.
She found a job working at the local diner, which paid little, but she didn’t need to be rich. As long as it paid her bills and t
here was a little extra, she was happy.
Taking orders from a few of the tables outside, she heard the loud rumbling roar of motorcycles. Dishes and glasses rattled on the tables. Lilian glanced up to see a small gang of about ten bikers riding by. She spotted one of the members as they passed. With his mirrored sunglasses, she couldn’t see much other than a masculine face and black hair long enough to hang mid way down his back in a ponytail.
She chuckled to herself and bent to hear the customer’s order, scribbling onto a small notepad, as their engines cut out. From the distance of the sound, Lilian assumed they had parked at the Motel 6. A few of the customers, however, kept their eyes on the strangers, and conversations shifted to the activities of the gang members.
Going about her duties, she heard from the lunch crowd what the bikers were doing; getting off their bikes, gathering around and stretching, which resulted in various debates over why. She smiled faintly in amusement at the patron’s musings, went inside to turn in the orders and pick up plates from the hot table to deliver. It took her a few minutes, as she served the tables and filled glasses, before heading back outside.
A wave of nausea and a sense of trepidation hit her as she stepped onto the terrace, causing her to pause and survey the area. As Lilian scanned the patio, she saw the two men seated at the far table, in dark suits and sunglasses. While sunglasses were par for the course on such a beautiful day in Hawk’s Point, suits were not.
The men sat themselves in such a way one could face and watch customers and servers moving about the alfresco area, the other faced out to the street to watch the coming and going of passersby.
Lilian knew they were trouble, but for whom? If they were here for her, she couldn’t run. She had to continue as if nothing was wrong.
After delivering food, she picked up two menus and a pitcher of ice water. Pasting on a smile, she approached the table. “Good afternoon.” She set their menus down and poured water into their glasses. “Can I get you anything to drink besides water? Iced tea or soda?”
“Lilian Powell?” He kept his tone soft, but still meant business.
Lilian shook her head. “I’m sorry, my last name is Quinn. Wrong girl.” She tapped the menus on the table. “I’ll be back to take your order in a few.”
Before they could say anything else, she walked away, checking on the other diners and refilling water glasses until she made it back inside, hurrying into the kitchen to escape the prying eyes of the two strangers .
“What’s the matter, chica?” Maria tossed a basket of onion rings into the fryer.
Maria was one of her closest friends, as close as she could be while Lilian still retained her carefully guarded secrets.
“There are two men in my section who’re just freaky. I think they might be government agents,” Lilian replied.
“Government? Cool! Bet they make some major money. Are they cute?” Maria asked as she flipped burgers on the grill.
Leave it to Maria to think of money and good looks rather than wonder why they were here.
“I didn’t pay attention.” Lilian checked her watch.
Damn, still thirty minutes to go before clock ing out.
“Well, take a peek when you go back out and let me know, girl! I ain’t getting any younger!” Maria shooed her out.
Those men gave her the heebie-jeebies. Still, Lilian couldn’t hide in here or they’d become suspicious. On her way out, she picked up a pitcher of ice water in one hand, a pitcher of iced tea in the other, and turned to use her hip to open the door. Motioning to one of the other waitresses that she had the iced tea, the door flung open. She cried out as she stumbled. She turned her body to try and catch her balance, but collided into what felt like a brick wall.
There were a few gasps of shock and some masculine guffaws. Wondering what or whom she’d collided with she turned and stared into the face of the biker she’d noticed earlier. He was soaked. The water and the iced tea drenched the front of him, from chest down.
At least she had a better view of him.
He had a masculine face with a dimple in his left cheek, passably handsome in a rugged, outdoorsy way, and yes, the dark hair. He was tall, probably a good four inches taller than her, and from the way the now wet t-shirt clung to his torso, a nicely built frame, but not an overzealous bodybuilder. He grabbed onto her to keep her from falling, and she could feel the strength in his hands, though his hold was gentle.
“That’ll cool ya off, brother,” a man called out and laughed, joined by the others of the gang.
A low growl emanated from the drenched biker, too low for anyone else to hear, but it rumbled through the man and into her. Lilian’s eyes widened in shock, mortified. She jerked back from the man, or tried to, stammering out an apology.
“Please, I’m terribly sorry. I’ll pay for your meal, of course. I didn’t expect the door to not be there.” Her words tripped and stumbled over her tongue and she kept trying to pull away from him, but he refused to let her go.
“If you stop a minute,” he drawled, “I can let go of you without you flying down the street.”
Lilian fell silent, blinking in surprise. It was true. His hold on her kept her upright, but she kept pulling away and if he did let go of her, she would go flying just from her momentum. She glanced up at him, but with his sunglasses on, couldn’t see his eyes. There was a wry twist to his lips, not quite a smile, but not a grimace either.
Lilian went still and he let go of her upper arms.
“There,” he said.
She stared at her reflection in the sunglasses. He lifted a brow at her, the corner of his lips tilting up into a smile. She blushed and backed away a couple of steps.
“Don’t scare her off, little brother,” another of the gang said. “I’m hungry and thirsty.”
“The way she’s looking at him, you’d think he just told her she’s on the menu,” said another.
Lilian looked away from the man in front of her and made a quick, visual foray around the outdoor section. The biker gang took up residence at the empty tables, her appointed station now filled to capacity. Dismayed and nervous, she snapped her gaze back at the one in front of her.
“Could we have some menus?”
Lilian blinked, nodded, turned and ran back into the diner as though the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels. Hounds of hell, no, but the guffaws of the biker gang followed her inside.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw him looking toward her, having not moved from the spot he stood before. Uneasy, she looked away and headed to the front desk.
As if the two suited men hadn’t been enough, now she had to deal with this?
It wasn’t a personal threat she sensed. If Lilian had been in some form of danger from him, she’d have known. Still, something about him made her feel uneasy. What? Because he was in a motorcycle gang, or maybe because he was a stranger and strangers, especially strange men, made her uncomfortable?
Opting to err on the side of caution, she handed the menus off to one of the other waitresses, trading with her so Lilian could watch over the interior tables.
Thirty minutes later, with her shift over, she removed her apron and tossed it into the hamper. She picked up her small purse and clocked out. With a final wave to Maria and fellow waitresses, she used the back door with the hopes of escaping the notice of the suited men and the bikers. Unfortunately, her plan didn’t work so well. As Lilian stepped out of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk along Main Street, one of the suited men stepped into her path and stopped her.
“Miss Quinn.”
Lilian heard the wry tone in his voice as he said her name and knew he doubted her.
“Yes?” she asked.
“We’d like to speak to you. In private.”
The second suited man crossed the street to join them. Lilian knew if she went anywhere with them, she’d disappear.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have the time. I have some errands to run.”
“I don’t thi
nk you understand.” The man reached into his jacket’s inner pocket.
Lilian tensed, wary, and shifted her stance so the two men couldn’t position themselves to box her in.
The man withdrew what looked like a white card and turned it to show her a photograph of her as a child, after the “incident”. The blood rushed from her head and a sinking feeling filled her gut.
“Maybe you’d like to try again with your name?” he asked.
Lilian glanced up from the photograph to the man. He still wore his sunglasses, but she didn’t need to see his eyes to read his mind. Very carefully, and with the lightest of touches, she scanned his surface thoughts. “Run. Run so I can chase you. When I catch you, I’ll punish you. I’ll pin you down and show you…”
She immediately pulled her mind from his, nauseated. “I’m sorry, but who are you? Where did you get that picture?”
She quickly but carefully scanned the second man’s thoughts, which were easier on her senses. “Stephan’s description was exactly like the picture shows. She’s the right one. She’s obviously lying about her name. Why are we wasting our time here?”
Neither man replied to her questions, but it was obvious they intended to get her to confess her real name. However, she was spared any further attempts with the arrival of the biker gang.
“There you are,” the biker leader called out. “Come on, we’ll be late.”
Lilian and the suited men looked over at him. His friends flanked the leather-clad man, and despite the friendly tone he’d used, all were tense. She quickly scanned the surface thoughts of the leader. “Help her. Those men are up to no good. Don't trust them.”
As she stepped toward him one of the suited men grabbed onto her arm. A mistake. The biker gang exploded into action and rushed toward them. The suited man released her and she was pulled into the arms of the gang leader. He led her some distance away.
“Let go of me.” She struggled to free her arms.
“That’s not very nice,” he quipped. She could hear the amusement in his tone. “I just saved you from who knows what and I don’t even get a thank you.”