by Michele Hauf
“Is he alive?” Kizzy asked the witch.
“No, he’s dead. The hexing circle merely holds him in place while I work the real magic. And for that, I’ll need your help. And your heart. How you feeling, darling?”
Kizzy wobbled as she stepped forward. “Like I’ve had my heart ripped out and I’m one step away from death.”
“Then we’d best hurry. Thankfully Claire was able to contact me in time.”
Kizzy offered the most grateful smile she could manage to the werewolf, which was weak. And then she directed her gaze back to Bron. He’d figured out he was dead just before the witch had shoved him into the circle. How could she help him?
He meant so much to her. He was the man who had not laughed at her beliefs. He believed in her.
Now she had to believe in him.
“Give her the heart,” Eglantine directed Claire. “But only after I’ve opened her chest.”
Here it comes. The pain, Kizzy thought. The weird stuff. The—hell, she just wanted this all over. And for Bron to be alive. She’d suffer any amount of pain for that.
“How is this going to save Bron?”
“You’ll provide your vita and make a direct connection to his heart and soul,” Eglantine said. “Take your heart.”
Claire handed the slippery organ to her, and Kizzy marveled for a moment over its weight and size. It really was about the size of her fist, and for all it had been through outside of her body, it still looked bright red and beat steadily. But no handprint! Must have been erased when Bron had used it to journey into Purgatory.
When she held it in both her hands she could almost feel the heart beating in her empty chest.
“Hold that aside while I open you up,” Eglantine commanded. “Quickly, darling, Bron hasn’t much time. Nor do you! Support her from behind, Claire, will you?”
Kizzy sucked in a breath and quickly unbuttoned her shirt, preparing for...whatever hell came next. The witch drew a blue line in the air before her. Something burned down her rib cage, and she felt air rush into her chest cavity.
“Now hold it close, so it connects,” the witch instructed, “but don’t put it all the way in. I need to bring Bron in on this now.”
Hold it close? But not all the way in? What the...? Kizzy moved her heart closer until she felt it nudge her skin. The sudden connection of veins or arteries, or whatever it was, alerted her, and a jolt of awareness gasped out of her mouth. She could feel her heart beat throughout her body. It was back!
Almost.
Eglantine traced the side of her heart that was not within her, and then she drew out her hand and, with it, what looked like a glowing red vein. The witch drew it as if yarn from a skein to the edge of the circle. When it touched the barrier of blue electricity that contained Bron’s floating body, the entire circle lit wildly and turned violet.
The witch began to chant something in a language Kizzy didn’t understand. She could feel her life force rushing out toward the hexing circle. Behind her Claire held her by the shoulders, her body supporting Kizzy’s weight. And when Eglantine suddenly severed the connection and turned to slam her hand against the heart and shove it completely into Kizzy’s chest, the witch’s wild green eyes glowed as she announced grandly, “So mote it be!”
Kizzy collapsed, slowly, Claire helping her down to sit.
The circle stopped glowing. Bron’s body fell, but instead of landing in a sprawl, his boots touched the concrete floor, and he caught himself, balancing and standing up. Alert, he looked about. Slapped a hand over his chest. His eyes landed first on Eglantine, and he shook his head, wincing. “You always land me in some kind of far-out magical situation, witch.”
“It wasn’t my doing, love. I believe it was the soul bringer’s fault. But she did save your life.” She stepped aside to allow Bron to see Kizzy.
Claire moved away, as did the witch. And before Bron could move toward her, Kizzy pushed up and ran to him, crossing the etched hexing line on the floor, and landed in his arms. Their connection ignited the wicked blue electricity, and a wall of the magic flashed up around the circle again.
“Is that bad?” Claire asked the witch.
“No. That. Is love. Come along. Those two will be needing some privacy.”
Chapter 26
They didn’t bother to look around to see if anyone stood in the warehouse watching. Bron had felt the witch’s departure, and he no longer scented his ex-wife. The only thing that mattered was the woman in his arms. Kissing him. Legs wrapped about his hips, she clung to him.
And he felt some kind of amazing electricity encompass them both. The blue light flashed about them, crackling and snapping at their skin. The more they kissed, the deeper violet the light became. Every touch felt like an orgasm. His werewolf shivered within, wanting to get out. And at the same time, it did not. He was solid in his body.
And not dead.
Nor was Kizzy without her heart. A heart that he’d held in his hands and would protect forever after. He’d noticed the missing handprint when he’d brought it back from Purgatory. He suspected it had been a one-time-only use for that particular magical artifact. And he’d inform the director the heart was inoperative and safe where it belonged.
“Kiss me always,” she said against his lips. “Love me forever.”
“I can do that,” he said.
And he believed that he could.
* * *
A day later, the couple stood in the gray-tiled shower of Bron’s New York apartment. Before boarding their flight, he’d alerted the maid service he was stopping in, and upon arrival, the place sparkled and champagne had waited in the fridge.
“I think our hearts kind of meshed when we were in the hexing circle,” Kizzy said as she slicked her hands up his wet chest. “At least, that’s the way it felt to me.” She kissed him right over the heart.
Bron bowed his head to kiss her forehead. “So I have your heart now?”
“Do you want it?”
“Yes. You asked me to love you forever. Did you mean that?”
She nodded. “I know you’re a lone wolf kind of guy. Was that okay?”
“More than okay. I don’t feel so inspired to be alone now that you’ve gotten into me. And I gave Director Pierce a call this morning to inform him that the heart had been deactivated. He trusts my assessment that it’s no longer an active portal to Purgatory. You can keep it right where it belongs.”
“Whew. And what about the soul bringer and his dead girlfriend?”
“He got what he wanted. You needn’t fear him coming after you any longer.”
“But do you think he was able to bring his girlfriend to Heaven?”
Bron nodded. “I’m sure of it. All ended well for those two. Despite the bastard almost killing you, I’ll give him a pass.”
“He did it for love,” Kizzy said. “Love always wins. So what’s next for you?”
“Another mission. Always another mission. How would you like to travel the world with me, Kizzy?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“There may be times when I need to go on a job alone. But as often as possible I will bring you along. I need you by my side. You are good for me.”
She kissed him. “Will you let me photograph creatures?”
“Only if they are never published on that blog of yours. Although, someone may have a use for them. I could check with the Archives. CJ may be able to use photographic documentation of certain species.”
“That would be cool. Kizzy Lewis, photographer of wondrous species. I love that. But I suppose I won’t be able to put that on a business card.”
“Absolutely not. No more than I can tell people I’m a Retriever.”
“You told me.”
“I couldn’t have not told you. Believe
r that you are.”
She slid her hands down and around his hips, pulling him against her slick body. “I suddenly have the desire to have sex with you in every country we can manage.”
“That’s a lot of places.”
“I like a good challenge.”
“Let’s make it interesting and include all the States, too.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“We’ve covered Minnesota and now New York.”
“Two down, forty-eight left to go. And a whole lot of countries. Kiss me, wolf.”
Their kiss lasted so long the water started to run cold, and when it did, the twosome spilled out and wrapped themselves up with an oversize towel in a snug, tight embrace that would see them through many countries and decades to come.
A year later...
Kizzy emailed the pictures she’d taken of the chimera in Kazakhstan to CJ at the Archives. Bron had been sent to retrieve an ancient grimoire guarded by a millennia-old witch. She’d had chimeras guarding her lair. Three of them. And their screams still rang in her ears. They’d pushed off from their castle perches. Magnificent wings had glittered with sunlight as they’d soared through the sky. That was right about the time Bron had ordered Kizzy back into the bespelled truck to wait for his return. She knew never to question him when in a dire situation. Besides, the new camera he’d gifted her for her birthday a few months ago was so awesome the zoom lens could pick up images half a mile away.
Tonight they stayed in Bron’s Parisian apartment. She’d never been in the city before, and Bron’s mission wasn’t urgent, so he’d promised to take her on a river cruise in a few hours. She was excited for a quiet evening touring the dazzling city.
The bedroom door opened, and in strolled her werewolf hero.
“You get the dossier from the director?” she asked. Meeting him at the end of the bed, she pressed up on her tiptoes to kiss him.
“I’m to retrieve an alicorn from a demon overlord while I’m in town.”
“Sounds perilous.”
“Actually, I know the guy. Edamite Thrash. He sounds much more evil than he actually is. And I’ve already spoken to him on the phone. He is happy to hand it over, which I’ll pick up in the morning. Tonight we’re doing the tourist thing.”
“It kills you, doesn’t it?”
“To play the tourist?” He shrugged. “You know those lines drive me mad.”
“But we’ve reservations for the cruise?”
“That we do. Another hour or so?” He checked his watch, then lifted her and tossed her onto the bed. “We’ve time to get naked.”
“Come here, wolf.” She crooked a finger, and he dove for her.
“I love you,” he said as he crawled over her and bowed his head to kiss the base of her throat. “Without you I am nothing. I need your heart beating close to mine.”
“You can have it close whenever you wish it.”
“How about—” he leaned on an elbow and slid his hand down to his pants pocket “—we make it a permanent thing?”
Kizzy pushed up to lean on her elbows, not sure what he was getting at. Until she saw the glint of silver as he held up the ring before her. A gorgeous diamond that looked too big for a girl who liked to travel spare and live off the land. Yet when she looked to Bron and saw the smile in his eyes she could only nod effusively.
“Is that a yes to forever?” he asked.
“Yes, of course. Forever.”
* * * * *
I hope you enjoyed the story! If you’re curious about the purgatorial objects, Google the “Museum of the Holy Souls in Purgatory” online. My stumbling on to that site one day served as the seed to this story.
If you’d like to read about other characters in this book, some also have their own story, and all are available at your favorite online retailer.
CJ and Vika’s story is
THIS WICKED MAGIC
Libby and Richardt’s story is
THE SOUL MAGIC
Blackthorn and Nova’s story is
THE SIN EATER’S PROMISE
Edamite Thrash and Tamatha’s story is
CAPTIVATING THE WITCH
Keep reading for an excerpt from IMMORTAL REDEEMED by Linda Thomas-Sundstrom.
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Immortal Redeemed
by Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
It wasn’t hard being an immortal. And it certainly wasn’t boring. But living out an extended life span could be lonely as hell, and that loneliness lasted forever.
Chapter 1
Kellan Ladd pushed the black custom Harley to eighty miles per hour on the open road, inhaling the wind, appreciating what might be his last moments on earth.
The purr of the bike’s engine was the only sound in the dark fall night. His next stop was already a dim glow on the horizon. Out here he could breathe and see the stars. Disturbing thoughts were traded for the intricacies of pure sensation.
He liked the pungent scent of damp greenery and the faint odor of engine oil. Those things mixed well with the fragrance of his signature black leather pants and jacket.
In fact, the back of his neck tingled in honor of those things. But the pleasure didn’t last. The dampness of the wind welcoming him to Seattle slipped beneath his collar to go head-to-head with the fiery burn of the intricate sigils carved into his shoulder blades...and the result wasn’t pretty.
The sizzling sound of heat versus cold was imaginary. Discomfort wasn’t. The marks on his back were as painful tonight as when he’d first received them. It was as if the scrolling tattoos were in on the secret part of his secret agenda. The temperature tug-of-war was a reminder he had never needed that after walking the surface of this planet for hundreds of years, he wasn’t like the people he’d meet in an hour.
Not even remotely like them.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known that from day one. Sporting fangs and living forever made differences hard to forget. As did the oaths he’d taken that dictated his life’s direction.
Tonight, he might have given half his considerable fortune to be completely free of the discomfort of the grooves on his back, if just for one day. He supposed the other six immortals in his Blood Knights brotherhood felt the same way by now.
Pain in the ass,
though.
Chanting in a low-pitched murmur, Kellan willed the burn between his shoulder blades to ease, without much success. The magic woven into their creation continued to pulse with a steady beat the way it always did when he drew near the chaos of civilization. He considered cities to be a universal plague.
He didn’t relish the thought of crowds. He never bothered with trying to fit in. Centuries ago he’d begun to agree with the freakish classification people would give him if they knew the truth of his origins. Luckily, very few mortals nowadays were in on the secrets surrounding his kind.
Most mortals were also ignorant of the part he played in protecting them—no easy task with humans occupying every corner of the planet. Add to those numbers the equally aggressive expansion of monsters that preyed on humans, and this modern world had developed its own recipe for disaster.
True, he just happened to be one of only seven immortals consistently going out of their way to do something about that. He was needed behind the scenes.
But he was tired.
Running a hand over his head made him miss the riot of shoulder-length auburn locks that had been his trademark for as long as he could remember. The new, shorter cut might make him appear more modern, but he couldn’t actually outdistance reality. Short hair or long, he was the same immortal. Something he might not have to think about for much longer. Because...
She would help with that. She, her, it, or whatever the hell kind of spirit had ensnared his soul from afar with the promise of ending what had always been endless.
Kellan sensed her presence somewhere ahead. Not too far away. Well within reach. Someone unique awaited him in the rain-soaked West Coast city—a feminine soul with the ability to end his immortal servitude once and for all.
Maybe it wasn’t actually a woman he’d find, yet he had a gut feeling it might be, and an uncanny sense of rightness about the perception. She had been invading his thoughts and his dreams for as long as Kellan could remember. From the beginning, actually, when he’d left his mortality behind.