Warlock’s Angel
Marly Mathews
Dallas is a witch gifted with the power of time manipulation, though childhood trauma has caused a mental block. Constantly fearing the witch hunters are tracking Dallas, her cousin Anya tells Dallas she is sending a gift.
The witch hunters come calling and Dallas is about to admit defeat when Anya’s gift—Oliver—arrives, saving her. He dispatches the hunters with ease but comes face-to-face with the beguiling Dallas and instinctively knows his biggest fight is yet to come. She immediately captures his heart and he must help her unlock her past.
Dallas, instantly mesmerized by Oliver, allows passion to take center stage. The witch and warlock relish every wicked moment they can steal away from Dallas’s meddling family. With the depth of Oliver’s love, Dallas begins tapping into her powers, realizing they are both a blessing and a curse, unsure if they will harm or heal.
Reader Advisory: This story has graphic sexual language and scenes—no closed bedroom doors (or other rooms) here!
A Romantica® futuristic erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
Warlock’s Angel
Marly Mathews
Chapter One
Earth, 2367
Gerrans, Nova Scotia
“We must protect the innocent and uphold the principles that our family has held dear for hundreds of years. Our gift is sometimes our curse, dear daughter, but in the end we are the only ones who can keep the fools of the Universe from tempting fate, for no man or woman should wield the ultimate power—that of manipulating time for their own selfish gain.”
Dallas Hyde-Redgrave sighed as her mother’s sage advice echoed through her head. She looked out her family-room window at the dark starry sky. The full moon was thinly veiled by clouds and she wondered what it would be like to venture beyond Earth.
Her cousin and best friend, Anya, traveled among the stars with great frequency and because of that Dallas had always longed to. She also knew that a dangerous world existed for her kind once they left the safe embrace of their peaceful home planet.
For that reason alone her mother had forbidden her to leave Earth, telling her that her special abilities as a witch would only make her a prime target for those who would covet her powers for their own evil means.
Dallas was the one constant in her family’s adventurous life. The last time Anya had returned to Earth she’d told Dallas she loved always knowing where and how to find her. She’d meant it as a compliment, Dallas knew that, but sometimes it smarted, realizing that she was the predictable one in the family, especially when the Redgraves had been traveling the stars with great abandon ever since space travel had been possible.
Her mother had died when Dallas was thirteen years old. Her death had been brought on by a particularly traumatic vision. From that day forward, Dallas had been scared out of her wits of ever seeing something that could affect her health that severely and she’d come to loathe their so-called gift, viewing it more as a curse than a blessing. Shortly after her mother’s untimely death, her father and brother had left Earth to travel among the stars, having thrilling escapades Dallas could only dream of. They rarely returned home to visit her and when they did she was once again reminded of how heavy a burden she and her mother carried. They were the first Hyde witches in one hundred years to be blessed with the power of being able to see into the past, present and future, as well as being gifted with the power of time manipulation. If only she could still share her troubles with her mother. She was the other person in the world who could possibly empathize with Dallas.
After Dallas’s mother’s death, Anya’s mother had moved from the village of Hale, located near one of Nova Scotia’s major space ship ports just outside Halifax, relocating to the small town of Gerrans with Dallas’s Uncle Alexander and Anya so they could be closer to Dallas. They had settled in at Redgrave House and her uncle had taken over the reins from his older brother in handling the matters pertaining to their family house and their business interests on Earth.
Her Aunt Angelica had taken to mothering her and helping her deal with her problematic gift. As a powerful witch, Angelica had always instinctively known how troubled Dallas would be with her unique abilities and whenever she’d felt at her lowest point, Aunt Angelica had been there, encouraging her to stay the course and remain where she could be protected. Even when her Uncle Alexander had insisted upon taking Angelica and Anya away from Earth when Anya had turned sixteen and Dallas had turned eighteen, Angelica had remained in touch, insisting they always return to Gerrans for holidays and for Dallas’s birthday.
If only Angelica and Alexander hadn’t been lost in the unchartered sector of space known as the Badlands. Every day she mourned their loss and could only imagine how bereft Anya felt. She knew Anya was confident that her parents would keep each other safe and that she would one day see them again—instead, Dallas’s family had been scattered to the four winds and she was once again the one left alone.
Reaching for her old copy of Hourglass Magazine, of which Anya had been named Witch of the Year, she fixed her gaze on Anya’s smiling face. “I wish you were here, cousin,” she murmured, melancholy washing over her.
Anya was the brightest witch of their age, making her so much more important than Dallas. Not only that, but she had all that her heart could ever desire and Dallas was truly happy for her. After all, the Rosses had paid dearly for it. Dallas couldn’t have survived the way Aunt Angelica had. Hailing from the powerful Ross Family, Angelica had tragically lost her mother when Ebony Ross had been burned at the stake back on Vanguard. She’d been sold into slavery and had been able to flee her captors to hide on Alexander Redgrave’s ship. He’d given her safe harbor and had freed her of the collar that had kept her powers bound. Somehow Angelica had found the light at the end of that dark tunnel and, despite of the hardships she’d endured, she’d been a gentle and loving woman. So Dallas could never begrudge Anya the happiness she now enjoyed. Sometimes, on nights like these, she wished she could have just a sliver of the kind of happiness Anya had been blessed with. Despite having the full support of her local coven, and to an extent the non-magical townspeople, it didn’t take away the extreme loneliness Dallas dealt with every single waking hour.
Her brooding was rudely interrupted by the noise of her kettle whistling. She’d forget she’d even put it on to boil. She was becoming so scattered the last few days she sometimes wondered if she was losing her mind.
“Damn it,” she muttered and jumped off her cushioned window seat, then dashed to the kitchen and removed the kettle from the range. Shutting off the heat, she leaned against her counter and sighed. Finally, after a few seconds, she moved to her cupboard and reached for a clean mug. She gripped the mug, stared at the claddagh design, and once again read the saying—Friendship, Love, Loyalty. If only she could enjoy all those things. Sure, she had the loyalty and fellowship of her local coven. They were known as the Cliodna Coven, and she appreciated the help they gave her whenever she went to their weekly meetings. Not to mention the fact that they constantly looked out for her and warned her whenever someone strange came to town inquiring about her. And yes, those witches and warlocks were her friends, but she rarely saw them outside those meetings, having little contact aside from the few messages they sent her during the week.
She was an oddity, she knew that. Even for a witch, she was seen as being different. Some of her magically talented friends were scared of the talent that made her such an outcast. Those who didn’t want her powers feared them and those who wanted them, she feared.
Either way, her life was a shitty mess, one that nobody could possibly envy. Hell, she didn’t even want her own life and wondered day after day what she’d done in another lifetime to deserve such a bligh
t upon her existence this time around.
Her house computer started chiming and her home’s artificial intelligence’s voice streamed through the country-style kitchen. “You have an urgent holographic message from Master Clifton Parr in Halifax.” Clifton, a fellow coven member, was a few years older than she was. His power as a warlock was minimal, although he had a decidedly oversized ego. He had always believed there was more between them than was there actually was, and his reading more into their casual friendship at times irked her.
“Connect us immediately, Tilly.” She poured the hot water over her teabag and went to the fridge to get the milk. In mere seconds, Clifton’s holographic body materialized before her eyes. The glaring light shimmering around him lit up the dim kitchen.
“We’ve got serious trouble, sweetie. Call it a Code Hecate. I’m sending the members of the coven who are nearby your house as we speak. Whatever you do, don’t panic. I know you’re not good at the combative side of the magical arts but Marion, Nicholas and Finley are. They will protect you until the Magical Authority here in Halifax can reach you. It seems you have some nasty witch hunters after you, my darling.”
She dropped the mug and distantly heard it shattering on the hardwood floor.
“No,” she muttered, weakness invading her body. The terrifying stories her Aunt Angelica had told her in her youth flashed through her mind. Fear clutched her in its viselike grip. How could she possibly hope to evade the might that witch hunters wielded?
She wasn’t like Anya. She couldn’t just transform them into wax dolls without breaking a sweat.
“I told you not to worry. We’ll take care of you. I know you’re alone and you’ll be seen as vulnerable by those bastards coming after you, but they don’t know you have friends in high places ready to do whatever necessary to keep you safe. Unfortunately, I can’t leave my post but I’m going to maintain this link until Marion, Finley and Nicholas get there.”
“Are they slave traders, Clifton? And if they are, how the hell did they get past the security checkpoints?” Her legs wobbled beneath her. Her already frayed emotions juxtaposed with her precarious mental state.
“Don’t jump to any hasty conclusions, Dallas. You are in no danger. Everything will be fine.”
How could he say that? He knew as well as she did that she was in potential peril, or else he would not have contacted her with such urgency. Nor would he be sending retired agents of the Halifax Magical Authority to her doorstep. She had always thought he had a special place for her in his heart as he never failed to flirt with her whenever he had the chance. She had to be mistaken though because he just wasn’t digesting the severity of the situation. Didn’t he know what witch hunters could do to her?
Now she knew why she’d felt so bloody depressed all day. She wasn’t usually so maudlin. She was getting ready for one hell of a vision to swamp her mind like a thick soul-sucking mud.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your important conversation with Master Parr but you have another urgent communique coming through on a secure line. It’s Anya. I’m sorry but this message is audio only and it’s been recorded.”
“Play it please. If you could stay and listen with me, Clifton, I’d appreciate it. I don’t think I want to be alone right now.”
He nodded. “I told you I would stand by you until the others arrived and I’m a warlock of my word, Dallas.”
“Thank you, Clifton. Tilly, play the message for me, please.”
“Dallas, darling, I have huge news for you. Damien and I have sorted out our differences and we’re headed back to Earth. We’re going to settle somewhere near the family house. I can’t wait to see you. We’ve got so much to catch each other up on. I can’t wait for you and Damien to finally meet. He’s going to love you like a sister I am sure. I’ve got so much to tell you I dare not say over this channel. I’ve sent a surprise birthday gift ahead for you and it should arrive shortly after you hear this. I do hope you’re happy when you see it. Expect us in about two weeks, until then, keep your head down and your hands steady.” Static played as the message was cut short. The “head down and hands steady” remark was something only the inner family circle would understand and it brought a smile to Dallas’s lips despite the apprehension rolling through her.
“That’s the entire message, Dallas. Would you like me to save it so you can listen to it again later?”
“Yes, I would like that greatly, Tilly.” If there was a later for her. With the way things looked now, she just might not survive the night.
Anya wouldn’t arrive in time to help her defend herself against the witch hunters. Despite her disappointment at not having her kick-ass cousin at her side for the upcoming battle, hope surged through her. She was finally getting all her heart had ever desired—her family was coming back to her. No longer would she be the lost girl staring out the window night after night, praying she’d see a familiar figure walking up the lane. There was only one problem, she had to live long enough and keep her feet planted firmly on Earth’s soil to have that possible future come to pass. If they took her off Earth, she’d be doomed.
“From the magical surveillance I have on the house, Nicholas, Marion and Finley are right outside your front door—they must have used magic to cut the transportation time down a bit. It’s not surprising, given how important you are.”
For being such an important asset, she wasn’t exactly dressed for the occasion. Ruefully, she glanced down at the old T-shirt-style nightgown she wore. She didn’t have the time to run upstairs for a housecoat to cover the faded material. She probably looked like hell with absolutely no makeup and her hair messily pinned up with a barrette, not to mention the fact that she’d felt like death warmed over all damn day. For added entertainment value, she had bunny slippers on her feet.
She moved toward the front door, but stopped just shy of unlocking it and letting her friends in. It was as if something inside the house kept her rooted to the spot.
Clifton’s hologram shadowed her and he stood directly beside her, staring at her in expectation. “Well, the door isn’t going to open itself, Dallas.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” she asked tiredly. It was true, while some witches could open doors with a simple spell or even with the power of their mind, she could do neither. The running joke within the coven was that she could barely spark a flame with her mind, let alone move anything. She had to do many things the way normal humans had to live their lives. Sometimes it was a bad thing, but then again, sometimes it was a good thing. Like now, she felt certain it was a good thing. “You don’t understand, Clifton, something doesn’t feel right. I’m getting hellish weird vibes. I can’t put my finger on it, but I have that funny feeling in my gut that tells me I should not open the door.”
“Oh, now you’re letting your dreadful paranoia get the better of you, Dallas. Which, I can totally understand given your aunt’s past experience with witch hunters, but trust me, it’s them. I can see them with my own eyes. It’s a good thing the Magical Authority has lookout crystals placed near every witch’s and warlock’s house or we’d have to use human technology to watch you with and it can be so untrustworthy. I know you’re absolutely distraught about what might come to pass tonight but just put your faith in me. I’ve never led you astray before.”
She stared for a few moments more at the front door, her insides twisted. She did trust Clifton. She’d never had any reason to distrust him and yet, she had to listen to what her gut was telling her and right now it advised her to proceed with caution. If only she could have a vision that would confirm her hunch. She couldn’t hope to stand against the witch hunters without her friends’ help, so why was something making her hold off?
“It’s now or never, Dallas. It’s a damp autumn night outside. Don’t make them attempt to breach the magical protection spells that were put on Redgrave House. Just let them in so they can get out of the cold night air and have a cup of tea or coffee before all hell breaks loose. They might even w
ant to warm themselves by the fire.” He talked so calmly and made everything sound so bloody simple yet he wasn’t the one who would have to deal with the consequences should anything go terribly awry.
Her heart continued to pound as she slowly unlocked the two dead bolts on her door and removed the chain. When she opened the heavy wooden door, she stared through the locked storm door to assess the situation. They sure did look like Marion, Finley and Nicholas. Marion was dressed smartly in a vibrant-blue tweed suit with her heavily rimmed glasses and her short gray hair, while Nicholas and Finley looked as if they just rolled out of bed.
“Good evening, Dallas, may we come in?” Marion asked, in her prim, no-nonsense tone. She was a birdlike woman but her diminutive size belied the steel running through her veins. She was known as the Grumpy Witch of Gerrans when she got her temper going. Something inside Dallas said, no, don’t let them in, but she had little choice in the matter as Clifton’s boisterous voice lit up the still evening.
“Come on, Dallas, gain hold of your senses and let the terrific trio in before those bloody witch hunters show up at your door.” She caught the slight expression of annoyance on Finley’s face before he replaced it with a vacantly nondescript smile. Why would he look as if he was offended by Clifton’s statement when it was common knowledge that Finley hated all covens of witch hunters with an unrivaled vengeance?
“Oh, seriously, Dallas, you’re taking all night. If you’re not going to let us in, we’re going to have to invite ourselves in,” Nicholas said, irritation creasing his brow. He pointed his index finger at the lock on the storm door and when his magic shot out of his hand, it hit the door and deflected back on him, knocking him right off his feet.
Oh, shit. That wasn’t a good thing. They must be disguised as Marion, Finley and Nicholas, which could only mean one thing—they were the witch hunters that were after her and she was in mortal peril. They were the sum of all her fears, and it was a price too high for her to pay.
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