ReigninG
HeartS
Book Three
A Witch in Time Series
By
Candace Osmond
And
JJ King
Reigning Hearts © copyright 2019 Candace Osmond & JJ King
Digital Version
First Edition
ISBN: 978-1-988159-67-6
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
About the Authors
Chapter One
“It is in the shelter of each other that people live.” - Ancient Irish proverb
“Ready?”
Cian glanced over at his father, whose face was twisted in a grimace of regret, and nodded. He was as ready as he’d ever be to raid one of Serena’s underground magical fight clubs.
It was hard to understand what he was feeling, really. Regret, frustration, anger, and most of all, disbelief. They’d been preparing for this moment for the last few months, sending in spies to suss out the lay of the land so they wouldn’t have to go in blind. The abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city was warded well, maybe by Serena herself, but it was also surrounded by several layers of loyal magic wielders ready to arrest any who tried to get away.
He raised his hand in the air and counted down the attack.
On three he sent a magical surge around the outside of the warehouse, alerting all teams to enter, then joined his magic with his father’s and the four men at their back to break down the front door.
Screams of panic filled the air as every exit to the building burst inward and their troops poured in. Even though he’d been prepped for what they’d find, Cian was still shocked to find the warehouse teaming with people. His people.
Cian barely had time to raise his hands and loose his magic before a wall of thick red fire magic hit him square in the chest, sending him staggering back. His footing held, as did his defensive magic, thanks to several months of rigorous training and preparation for the upcoming war. Because war was the only way to describe the outcome of this level of fury and greed. Serena’s darkness was spreading, and it was up to him and his people to stop it.
He felt a shoulder bump up next to him and recognized his father’s magic immediately. Relief and gratitude filled him as they prepared to fight back together, father and son, just as they’d planned.
“They’re not coming easily,” Patrick gasped out, sending an arc of magic toward one of the fighters, just enough to distract him so the two guards flanking him could slap the enchanted handcuffs on his wrists and nullify his magic. The man’s roar of fury was primal. He bucked against the cuffs, slamming his body into the guards as they fought to bring him down. It didn’t help that he was huge, close to seven feet, with shoulders twice as wide as his own. Cian’s eyes narrowed in on the man’s bare chest, searching for any sign of the dark curse Serena had inflicted on him. He was cured now, his soul left intact, although secretly, when he was alone in the night with Ashlynn sleeping peacefully next to him with their child growing inside her, he wondered if a soul touched by such darkness could ever be completely whole again.
But there was no sign of the curse on this man, not on his body anyway, from what Cian could see.
He elbowed his way past a guy he vaguely recognized, leaving him to one of the guards, and moved closer to the center of the mayhem, keeping his magic ready to attack. A huge mat, ringed by a tall metal fence like something you’d see in an MMA match, sat at the center of the concrete building. Inside the ring stood five barely dressed sorcerers with rage and dangerous magics seeping from their pores.
They stood at the five points of a giant pentagram, etched into the floor of the ring, ignoring the screams and chaos. All their attention was focused on staying alive.
Cian stared at the men, horrified that he recognized several of them, and tensed as he took in the situation. Blood streaked down the forehead of one of the sorcerers who seemed unsteady on his feet. He was standing, though, so he was still in the game.
Another man, shorter than the others but almost twice as wide, shot a line of crackling fire at one of his opponents. Then, turning on his heel, he shot another blaze at the unsteady sorcerer.
The distraction worked.
His first shot went wide, as planned, while his second hit its target. Fire magic spread, like dragon’s breath, over the man’s body, engulfing him in what seemed like an instant. His eyes went wide with terror and pain as he realized his mistake. Panic cost him precious seconds as he thrashed about, trying to douse the flames that wouldn’t douse. His body fell to the floor of the ring in a heap of charred ruins.
Cian summoned every ounce of magic he had and grabbed the metal cage. Currents shot through the mesh, arcing out to hit each of the remaining four sorcerers. They howled and all gazes shifted as one toward Cian, whose heart galloped in his chest.
He moved toward the door of the cage and felt his team move in beside him. At the cage door, he looked over and nodded toward his father’s security team leader. “This is a small enough area to set the wards. No magic, just fists. You in?”
Jared grinned, showing off a mischievous dimple in his chiseled cheeks. “Hell yeah!” He rotated his massive shoulders and chuckled. “This is going to be fun.” Sorcerers moved to the five points outside the ring and hurried through the incantation to block magics within the perimeter.
The moment it was complete, Cian, Jared, and another member of his father’s team, Tristan, a rangy guy with long limbs and a killer right hook, moved into the ring. The door closed behind them.
Being cut off from his magic felt like shit, but Cian knew the dangers these men posed and needed to keep his people alive more than he needed to feel connected to his power. He only had to wait a moment for the first attack to come and distract him.
A fist flew through the air toward his face so quickly he barely had time to dodge it. He swiveled to his right, turning his body and using the momentum to drive an uppercut into his opponent’s ribcage, making him howl in pain. Cian grinned and spun away from the bent over man, looking for another opponent. He came face to face with the tank truck he’d noticed earlier.
Shorter and wider than him, the sorcerer looked to be pumped full of steroids or something that made him look as if he were about to froth at the mouth. Rabies, maybe, Cian thought with a bitter laugh. He eyed the man carefully, seeing the power behind those beefed out knuckles and thick chest.
The sorcerer made the first move. He came in swinging with short, powerful jabs to Cian’s abdomen,
forcing Cian back against the cage even though he blocked each punch. This guy was good, he realized, probably an old-fashioned Irish brawler, the kind that never lost.
Cian danced away from the punches, getting free of the wall. He needed to put some distance between him and those meaty fists or he’d go down, and soon.
The second he got an arm’s length away, Cian shifted his body, spinning his core, and drove his leg into the man’s abdomen, making him stumble back a few feet with a loud oath.
Cian bounced on his toes, weaving to get away from those thick fists and the power behind them. He kept his eyes trained on his opponent’s face, looking for any shift or giveaway. He was trained, practiced, and ready for this.
Which is why he cursed himself for not being completely aware of his surroundings.
Someone slammed into Cian’s back, causing him to stumble forward into reach. A powerful jab crunched Cian’s chest, sending a shock of pain through his body. He threw up his arms to protect himself and wondered how the blow hadn’t broken a rib. Instinctively, he called to his magic and groaned when he remembered he couldn’t access it inside the wards.
They circled one another and Cian was careful to keep himself out of striking distance from his opponent or anyone else in the ring. In his periphery, he saw Jared put his opponent in a headlock and wrestle him to the floor.
Cian’s man moved in quickly, belying his short, thick stature, and delivered another series of punches that left Cian feeling battered. He wasn’t used to this type of street fighting and it was putting him at a huge disadvantage. He decided to diversify his training as soon as he healed from this beating.
The sorcerer pushed Cian back with short jabs to the gut, which he blocked easily enough. The problem was the approaching metal fence. It would corner him in and give his opponent easy access to his already bruised ribs. One wrong move and he’d be screwed.
Cian took a split second to shift his eyes, to measure the distance from his body to the fence, to determine how high he’d have to kick, then he was bounding toward the cage. Cian hit the fence with his right foot and swiveled, using his momentum and the height he picked up to deliver a flying kick to the sorcerer’s face.
An instant of disbelief crossed the man’s features then his face went slack and he dropped to the floor.
Cian stared down at the unconscious sorcerer and breathed heavily, trying to slow his racing heart. He toed the man, grinned, and muttered, “Good fight.” A moment later someone moved in and bound the sorcerer’s hands with cuffs that would keep his magic at bay.
“I caught the tail end of that. Pretty impressive move.” Jared clapped a hand to Cian’s shoulder and grinned. “Mine didn’t put up half the fight but, then again, I did bring down two to your one.”
Cian chuckled. “We should spar sometime.” He eyed Jared, remembering the grappling moves he’d use to subdue his opponent. There was more to the man than he’d thought. “I wasn’t prepared for his style of fighting and it almost cost me a few ribs.” Cian pointed his chin toward the man being dragged out of the ring.
Jared arched a brow and nodded. “Sounds like fun. I could use a new sparring partner.”
They cleared the ring and split up to help take down others who were still fighting back. The majority of those that had been in attendance had run and had been allowed to run since the security they’d set up at each of the doors recorded their faces and magical signatures. There would be no hiding from this, not anymore.
“Where do you want these guys?” A guard asked, pointing a thumb over his shoulder to a motley group of busted up magic wielders in restraints, each standing or sitting slumped against a far wall.
Cian skimmed the group and shook his head. Thirteen. Thirteen members of the coven that had been sucked in by Serena’s promises of power and wealth to the point that they’d turned savage on each other. He recognized some more than others, but knew they were all locals, all men and women that had grown up under the influence of the clan leaders.
How could they have strayed this far?
“Put them in the vans. We’ll question them back at HQ.” He didn’t mention aloud that HQ was technically his parent’s home at the moment. They’d bring them in blindfolded physically and magically, so they couldn’t find their way back. His parents deserved as much privacy as possible, and as much protection in their home as possible.
Cian sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He hated this, having to capture and interrogate his own people. But they needed to know more about Serena’s plans, to get numbers of those who followed her misguided ways and send a strong message that whoever craved power enough to break coven law would face severe consequences.
“We’ve got one more,” Jared called out as they began transferring the still riled prisoners to the vans. He dragged an unconscious man forward and dropped him unceremoniously at Cian’s feet.
The man was tall, maybe six and a half feet, with wide shoulders and a solid build. Cian was glad he hadn’t had to fight this one after the Irish brawler had all but wrecked his ribs. He twisted, knowing he’d be feeling the fight for the next few days even with a little healing magic.
“Load him up with the others.” Patrick stalked up to the group, wiping his hands on his pant legs. Cian’s eyes went a little wider when he saw the smears of blood he left behind.
Patrick noticed the direction of Cian’s gaze and looked down. “Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath. “Your mother’s going to have a conniption when she sees this.” He frowned deeply and waved his hands over his clothes while murmuring Gaelic words. The blood faded then disappeared altogether.
Cian arched an eyebrow at his father. “Mom’s a bit smarter than that, old man.” He chuckled as his father tossed out a burst of magic meant to clap back a saucy child.
Cian stepped around the unconscious man as two guards moved forward to cuff him and put him in the van. As they did, the man’s long reddish hair shifted and fell out of his eyes, revealing a chiseled jaw, a ruddy complexion, and a nose that was slightly off center from a punch he’d received years ago as a teenage boy. A punch Cian himself had delivered.
“Connor?” Cian gasped in horror, moving instinctively to help his old friend. He ordered the guards to put him down and sank to the cold floor of the warehouse beside him, looking for any sign of injury. A small trickle of blood leaked slowly from a cut on the side of Connor’s head but nothing more. Cian relaxed a fraction then gritted his teeth as the truth seeped in. One of his oldest friends in the world had joined Serena in her quest for power.
Connor’s eyes fluttered once, closing quickly, then opened again after a moment. His pupils were wide and dark and took a minute to focus. Cian watched, waiting for some explanation, praying his friend would deny his association with Serena, but with focus came recognition and a snarl that had Cian pushing back as his heart broke.
“Get the fuck away from me,” Connor growled in a voice Cian barely recognized. Then he was lunging upward, eyes wild, with his hands shoved out to grab Cian’s throat as magic snapped from his fingertips.
Chapter Two
The cool moonlight poured down over Ashlynn’s smiling face as she tipped her head to the midnight sky above. Happiness filled her every cell as she let the raw power of nature soak into her pores. She closed her eyes and the sounds of crickets, rustling autumn leaves, and the crisp breeze tickled her ears.
She always felt at peace with nature.
But on this eve, one of so many blessings, she felt her powers growing two-fold. The familiar taste of her Celtic-born magic still tingled her senses, but she basked in the newness of the Romani power that now flowed in her veins. The power brought on by the baby growing inside her and the magic gifted her by Masilda.
Ashlynn felt a twinge of guilt. She’d never been happier in all her life as she was right now. Cian was cured of the dreadful curse that Serena cast down on him and a new life, created from their love, was growing inside her.
Sweet
Masilda was gone, but Ashlynn soothed herself by remembering that she would never be forgotten as her soul lived on inside the child. Not that they knew that for sure, but Ashlynn felt it so deeply that she didn’t question it. Especially after Masilda’s birthmark had appeared on her skin.
Her fingers absentmindedly brushed over the faint mark of the Pancha Mahabhuta. Masilda had been meant to do great things for her people, the Travellers. To end the hostilities, unite the people, and bring back the old ways. She was gone now, but Ashlynn vowed to spend her life doing just that.
Well, after the baby was born.
Everyone, including Cian, had Ashlynn on a strict twenty-four-seven watch. With the life growing inside her, and her powers growing by the day, Ashlynn was a target for Serena. After the unfortunate events in the field, Serena had fled and hadn’t been heard of since. But the underground hostilities were growing more intense and frequent. Fight clubs, illegal magic, attacks on the leaders of their clans. Serena was hell bent on steering their world in a new direction and she’d claw her way to the front of the line by any means necessary.
Which is why she had to be protected while Cian risked his life – with the help of his father and a few others – to infiltrate the underground and find Serena before it was too late. A fact Ashlynn failed to hide her detest for. She wasn’t some feeble woman incapable of handling herself. But she abided, for the baby’s sake. Her hand smoothed over the surface of her belly; its new shape hardly noticeable to those who didn’t know. She could see the difference three months made, though. How her skin had begun to tighten. Her stomach hardened.
Ashlynn continued to rub her stomach and silently cooed to the life inside.
“I can’t wait to meet you,” she whispered. “We’re going to do great things together, you and I.” She grinned. “We’re going to bring peace to our world.”
Their world needed peace, Ashlynn mused. Desperately. The darkness of Serena’s plans was spreading too quickly, infiltrating too many souls. With the wedding approaching and the baby warm and healthy inside her, Ashlynn knew she should hold on to that happiness, but it was hard not to let the darkness seep in. The worry. The stress of knowing Serena was out there somewhere, waiting for her chance to strike. And then another worry, one only Ashlynn, Cian, and Faith understood the weight of.
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