by Bianca D’Arc
Tory came forward to stand in front of him. “He’s the one I saw would come. The angel. He’s not Alvian. Not anymore.”
“I’ve seen him before. He’s the one they call Wild Bill. He lives high up in the mountains, but nobody knows exactly where,” one of the more recent additions to their community said.
“People of many talents will gather around a blond giant named for Hickok, who is an angel in disguise. A former enemy, he’ll become the father of the resistance. Tell those who manage to escape to seek him out in the high places.” Pierre recited the strange words. “That’s from the Oracle’s book of prophecies.”
“Well I’ll be.” Larry moved a little closer. “Wild Bill Hickok… An angel in disguise. I think we have ourselves a winner.”
“Sure looks that way,” Pierre agreed. “Never thought I’d meet an angel.”
“I’m no angel,” Bill was careful to point out again. “I’m an Alvian-Avarel hybrid, with all the faults of both races.”
“You’re also the man of whom the Oracle wrote,” Pierre said quietly, with finality.
Ronin Prime oversaw the prisoner transfer with something like satisfaction, though of course he couldn’t actually feel it. He’d change that—as soon as he could—if he had his way. The wheels had been set in motion. He just had to be patient to see his long-term plans come to fruition.
The prisoner was an older human male with an almost regal bearing despite his years of confinement. Ronin Prime watched the squadron of soldiers leave him with his Zxerah clansmen, waiting to be sure the other Alvians were gone before he approached.
When he drew near, his Zxerah brethren parted ranks, leaving him face to face with the human man. The man stood proud, sizing Ronin up with cool blue eyes as any good competitor would. Ronin respected that.
“Remove his restraints,” he ordered his brethren quietly, unsurprised when the human’s eyes revealed nothing of his thoughts. This man—a former general—was a cool customer indeed.
The shackles were removed one by one, leaving the human standing tall and proud before Ronin, flanked by four soldiers of the Zxerah brethren. Ronin had taken the precaution of having this transfer take place on a military installation away from the Zxerah stronghold, but he’d handpicked the men who would initially deal with this prisoner who could prove to be very important.
“You are General Yeager.” Ronin didn’t ask. He knew full well to whom he was speaking, but he wanted the general to understand that Ronin not only knew but also respected his rank and stature.
The man nodded once.
“I have heard good things about you from your people in Colorado. Before you ask—” Ronin held up one hand to forestall any outbursts, but this general was an even cooler customer than he’d credited. “All is well in Colorado. Your people thrive in their home and have not been disturbed. They have, however, been contacted by one of my operatives, and we are in communication on a somewhat regular basis now. It is because of this, I’ve had you transferred to my care. The men you left behind in Colorado have never forgotten you. I respect that and because of it, I believe we can be of help to each other and to our respective races.”
The general eyed him suspiciously. “I’m willing to listen.”
“Excellent.” Ronin stepped toward the waiting craft. “Come with us then, and we will talk on the way. I have much to tell you, and we have much to discuss.”
A week later, the door to an apartment in the Northern City slid open and a young man stood on the threshold. A tentative smile touched his lips.
“I knew you would come.” The young man stepped aside, allowing Ronin to enter. He did so with uncharacteristic hesitance, turning to face the young man in the entryway as the door slid closed.
“I am Ronin.”
“I know.”
“And you must be Harry.”
At that, the young man’s smile returned. “Your kind generally calls me Hara, but I prefer Harry.”
Ronin took his measure. “I am not precisely like other Alvians, though I suppose I still share more in common with them than with others.”
“You question things, which is good, and you see possibilities for the future. That’s more than most, Patriarch.”
One brow rose in question at Harry’s casual use of Ronin’s title. “Do you know of what you speak or it is merely premonition that prompts you to use such a word?”
“There is nothing mere about any of my premonitions.” Harry’s tone turned challenging. “But to answer your question, it is a mixture of both research and foresight. I foresaw your visit here a long time ago. After that initial vision, I conducted research in Alvian databases and histories so I would know with whom I’d be dealing in the future. I learned much about your Brotherhood, but little about you as a person, Ronin Prime.”
“Then we are equally in search of knowledge.” Ronin moved further into the apartment and took a seat on the couch. “I know of your ancestry but have found precious little information about you, yourself. I have come here to begin the journey of knowledge, to see if we can work together to create a better future for our people.”
“Which people?” Harry challenged as he sat in a chair, opposite. With a casual thought, he moved an illicit device from the other side of the room onto the low table between the couch and his chair. The show of telekinesis was no doubt deliberate—a flexing of mental muscles designed to showcase one of his many talents that made him so different from his Alvian brethren. Another thought flipped the device on. “We are now shielded against monitoring of any kind.”
“Forgive me.” Ronin reached into his robe and pulled out a similar device, placing it on the table and switching it on with his fingers before sitting back. “I did not get to be Patriarch of the Zxerah Brotherhood by trusting others not of my clan. I mean no disrespect or insult. It is my nature to be cautious.”
“I’m not offended. Caution is a good thing. I knew you would come for a long time, but I never knew when or why. So please tell me, what brings you here now?”
Ronin bowed his head, gathering his thoughts before speaking. He sorted through the many things he could say, finally deciding on the simplest, yet most troubling.
“It is time.”
About the Author
A life-long martial arts enthusiast, Bianca enjoys a number of hobbies and interests that keep her busy and entertained such as playing the guitar, shopping, painting, shopping, skiing, shopping, road trips, and did we say…um…shopping? A bargain hunter through and through, Bianca loves the thrill of the hunt for that excellent price on quality items, though she’s hardly a fashionista. She likes nothing better than curling up by the fire with a good book, or better yet, by the computer, writing a good book.
To learn more about Bianca D’Arc, please visit www.biancadarc.com. Send an email to Bianca at [email protected].
Look for these titles by Bianca D’Arc
Now Available:
Dragon Knights
Maiden Flight
Border Lair
Ladies of the Lair
The Ice Dragon
Prince of Spies
Wings of Change—I Dream of Dragons Vol. 1
FireDrake
Tales of the Were
Lords of the Were
Inferno
Forever Valentine—Caught by Cupid anthology
Sweeter Than Wine
Resonance Mates
Hara’s Legacy
Davin’s Quest
Jaci’s Experiment
Bound by Blood
One and Only
Rare Vintage
Phantom Desires
Coming Soon:
An ancient evil is stalking the twin alpha rulers of the werefolk and the half-were woman who is destined to be their mate…if she lives long enough.
Lords of the Were
© 2008 Bianca D’Arc
Tales of the Were, Book 1
Fulfilling her mother’s dying wish, Allie climbs a wooded hill just be
fore midnight on Samhain—All Hallow’s Eve. At the top, she finds an overgrown, magical stone circle, and her destiny. Waiting for her there are twin alpha werewolves who will be her sworn protectors, her mentors…and the loves of her life. If she lives long enough.
Overprotective is just one word to describe Rafe and Tim. Sexy is most definitely another. But their newfound love and all their skills—both mundane and magical—will be tested by an ancient evil. A hostile human mage and a misguided vampire hunt them, servants to secret plans of the ancient Venifucus, a society dedicated to destroying women like Allie.
They will earn unlikely allies, including a half-fey knight imprisoned Underhill for centuries. But will it be enough to battle the evil that stalks them? Will Allie’s men be strong enough to let her aid them in her own defense? Only together can were, fey and vampire defeat this latest threat and learn that love does truly conquer all.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Lords of the Were:
“We work up an appetite when we run in our fur.” The deep voice at Allie’s ear made her jump, though she instantly recognized Rafe’s warm presence behind her. Still buttoning his shirt, he sniffed appreciatively at the food.
A moment later he was joined by Tim, whose eyes snapped fire as he looked down at Allie. Surprisingly, he seemed less angry than he’d been before and had a few scratches on his face that needed tending. She couldn’t draw her eyes away from the drying blood on his cheek and before she realized quite what she was doing, she’d taken Tim by the hand and was leading him down the hall toward the small bathroom.
“Where are we going?” Tim’s voice was tinged with a surprising humor she hadn’t yet seen in him.
“You’re hurt.”
She’d been up all night and perhaps that’s why she thought it should be obvious to him that if he were hurt, she would care for his injuries. It seemed perfectly logical in her tired mind, though later she would admit she hadn’t been thinking clearly from the moment she saw the twins in that sacred circle the night before.
Tim tugged on her hand, slowing their progress. “I heal faster than a human. You don’t have to tend me.”
She looked at him as if he were crazy. “You don’t want a scar do you? Or an infection? Those scratches have dirt in them, Tim.”
His eyes flared as he searched her face. “So you can tell us apart. Why then are you being nice to me? I’ve haven’t been very nice to you so far, as my brother pointed out earlier.” He fingered the drying blood on his face and suddenly Allie realized the brothers had come to blows over her. The very idea caused her heart to clench in anguish and wetness to gather behind her eyes. She never wanted to come between them…at least not in a bad way.
“You’re hurt,” she repeated stubbornly, tugging him into the small bathroom. “I don’t like to see anyone suffer needlessly.” She closed the lid on the toilet and pointed. “Sit.”
Tim actually laughed. “I’m a wolf, not a dog,” he protested, but sat anyway, his gaze tracking her around the tiny room as she gathered a small washcloth and some bandages.
She ran warm water onto the small cloth and began gently bathing the long scratches on his angular face. The angry gouges started at his left temple and went down all the way to the corner of his mouth. Dirty, the nasty gashes were crusted already and had bits of what looked like tree bark and moss mixed in with the dried blood.
Tim didn’t complain as she scrubbed gently at the mess on his face, and watched her every movement. Hesitating only briefly, she worked towards his firm lips, using the fingers of one hand to stretch his skin and the other to cleanse it so she could cause him the least amount of pain and still be thorough. The heat of his gaze and the warm, firm feel of his lips against her fingers began to distract her from her task.
“I haven’t been very nice to you since we met, Allesandra, and I’m sorry.”
Rocking back on her heels, she was more surprised by his soft tone than even his words. His expression was tender but his eyes lit with a secret fire as he took one of her small hands in his and brought it back to his mouth. Gallantly, he placed a warm kiss in the center of her palm and closing her fingers around it.
Allie shook her head. She was operating on too little sleep and everything had a fuzzy edge, but she kind of thought this man would muddle her senses no matter what. She had to clear her throat before she could talk at all.
“You don’t have to apologize. I think I might understand a bit of what you were feeling. I know I’ve been overwhelmed more than a few times in the last few hours and have resented it.” She resumed her work. Once again she had to place her fingers on his lips, but this time, he sucked them inside his mouth, swirling his tongue over her digits as she gasped.
“So you think you’ve got me all figured out, hmm?” His eyes sparkled as he held her wrist, placing little nibbling kisses on her fingers and knuckles.
“I didn’t say that.” She squirmed a little as he sucked on her thumb, letting her go with a wet popping sound as he moved up to her wrist, and then higher to the sensitive valley of her elbow.
“I need to put some ointment on your scratches, Tim.”
“In a minute.”
He stood, towering over her in the small space, wrapping her in his embrace. She went to him willingly, unable to deny this man anything he wanted, though she’d only just met him. She felt the rightness of his arms around her, felt the desire, the passion and the burgeoning emotions she didn’t dare name. In her heart, she knew it was the beginnings of love. Whether he could love her remained to be seen, but she was fast on her way to falling head over heels in love with this man and his rakish twin, though the idea of loving two men at one time was still startling in the extreme.
Tim’s firm lips drifted down, placing kisses on her shoulder, her collar bone, working toward the hollow of her throat and up her neck to her ear where he swirled his tongue briefly inside, making her shiver. He didn’t stop there, biting down on her earlobe, making her yip in surprise. He moved to her temple, then her eyes, placing soft kisses on each one before tracing down in a sinuous seduction, finally capturing her lips with his in a kiss of discovery, of question and of undeniable passion.
He sought entrance and she gave in with a sigh of delight. He seduced her with every motion of his mouth, every sweep of his hands down her back, every squeeze of her ass gripped in his big palms. He began a rhythm with his tongue, echoed by the press of his hard cock against the apex of her thighs. She still wore the thin ceremonial robe, but he was clad in soft denim that molded his every bulge. And she was fast learning his bulges were very impressive indeed. Allie ran her hands over his muscular arms and wrapped her arms around his hard middle.
He was all she could have imagined and more, and he kissed like a dream. His rhythm was seductive and hypnotic, inciting all her senses as he stroked her with his whole body, making love to her with his mouth.
She felt coolness on her back as the door opened, but Tim didn’t let go. Instead, a moment later she was enveloped from behind as well as in front, and she knew it was Rafe who’d entered the small room and now sandwiched her between himself and his twin.
“I came to make sure he was playing nice with you,” Rafe rumbled into her ear as he swept his hands up her ribcage to her breasts and squeezed. “But I see you’re getting along better than I expected. I have only one question.” He tugged at the little buttons holding her robe together, freeing them one by one as Tim moved back obligingly to make room. Before she knew it, she was naked in their arms in the small bathroom. Tim’s mouth moved down her neck as her breath came in harsh pants.
Rafe held her breasts in his big hands, up and ready for his brother to suck. Tim latched on to one nipple while Rafe plucked at the other with his fingers, his breath hot against her neck.
“Don’t you want to hear what my question is?” Rafe prompted, making her crane her neck to try to see him.
“What?”
Rafe smiled as he bent forward to capture her lips w
ith his. He kissed her long and hard, zeroing in on her tongue, worshipping at her lips with a hunger she’d felt only once before—from his twin. When Rafe let her up for air, it was only to allow Tim to switch over and torment her other breast with his lips, teeth and downright sinful tongue.
“I was going to ask if you planned to do this without me,” Rafe teased, biting her neck with nipping teeth, “but the question is now moot.”
Love—it’s the real thing. And complicated as hell…
The Egyptian Demon’s Keeper
© 2009 Ciar Cullen
Archeologist Eliza Schneider assumes her meeting with an exotic stranger in the Egyptian desert was a heat-induced hallucination…until he materializes in New York. She has to give the tall, handsome Egyptian high marks for originality with his pick-up line: they’re fated to save the world together. The master/servant thing goes a long way toward sweeping her off her feet, but it’s easier to believe he’s just another in her long line of poor romantic choices.
Kasdeya, the Fifth Satan, waited eons for his Keeper to find her way to his tomb amongst the ancient ruins. He only has a limited time to convince Eliza that her role is critical to help defeat the loathsome Deumos, a female demon who has laid her claim to bearing his child—a child that will bring down mortals.
Trouble is, Eliza doesn’t even believe Kasdeya is real. If he can’t convince her he isn’t an illusion—and neither is their love—Deumos will win.