by Eliza Gayle
“Ms. Gallagher.” He paused to observe her further as she turned toward him. Her petite features were partially hidden behind her glasses. You could tell a lot about a person by the way they dressed. And right now Rena appeared nervous. “It's nice to see you again. I really appreciate you coming all the way out here to give me an update.” He shook her hand and was again pleasantly surprised by her firm, confidant touch.
“No problem, Reverend. I'm sure you must be anxious to see what I’ve found.” Her reply lacked a ring of conviction.
“Indeed.”
“Although I'm not sure you’ll be happy with my findings.” He arched his brow at that statement. “Well, first off, I have discovered that these cards are directly tied to the Scott family. As in Graelen Scott.” She hesitated.
“Yes, I know who he is.”
“Upon learning that these cards depicted the Scott family history, I opted to go there and discuss these with Mr. Scott and see what information he could offer. Imagine, if you will, my surprise when Mr. Scott informed me that these cards were stolen from his family last year.” Her comment contained a strong suggestion of distaste.
“And you're wondering if I knew that too?”
“Yes.”
He admired her simple, straightforward approach, even as he realized she would no longer be useful to his quest.
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters. My work was everything to me and you ridiculed that by bringing me unknowingly into your scheme.” Her tone chilled. “This scheme you have against your nephews is wrong. I can prove it in time.”
Scott ground his teeth and locked his jaw to control the anger. He absolutely would not tolerate her knowing about his familial ties. “You really have no idea what you're talking about, Ms. Gallagher.” His voice hardened. “You should have stayed in your museum like you were supposed to. Now things are complicated.”
Something in his demeanor or voice must have frightened her. She started taking steps backwards. Stupid move. His magick came up. Killing her would definitely be an inconvenience, albeit necessary. Motivated by her fear, his energy built. He took a few steps forward and stopped cold. His nephew Graelen stood in the doorway.
“Don't even think about it, Uncle. She is protected. Trust me, you won't like what happens the next time you try to hurt her.”
“How the hell did you get in here? Evil such as yourself shouldn't be able to cross the wards of my threshold.”
Graelen laughed. “What? You're not happy to see me? Maybe you should rethink your definition of evil once and for all before someone else gets hurt. I'm only here for one thing, and then I will go. I've come for my brother. Where is Cash?”
“I don't know what the hell you're talking about,” he countered icily. “I haven't seen your good for nothing twin in years and that's too soon for me.”
“Two weeks ago he left with plans to visit you, Uncle. He hasn't been heard from since.”
“And you think that has something to do with me?” He watched as Graelen's eyes blackened as dark as midnight. Energy crackled the room from them both.
“Stop it, both of you, before someone gets hurt. This is about Cash.” She stepped in between the two of them.
“Get out of my house now.” Despite his strong magick, he knew his nephew to be the stronger witch. Now was not the time for confrontation. He was a patient man and he had some new information to think about now.
“Let's go, Graelen. Cash isn't here. I can't feel even a trace of him.”
The Reverend caught the look that passed between them, telling him what he needed to know. He watched them go as he reviewed what had transpired. There was a bond between the two of them. She was of the prophecy and he'd led her straight to them.
Interesting…
Now, Cash was missing and somehow played an important role in this puzzle. This called for drastic measures. He needed to find Cash before they did, and he knew just the woman for the job.
To be continued…
Magick Ignited
Book two of the Pentacles of Magick series
a novella of erotic romance by
ELIZA GAYLE
Prologue
Wild grief tore at Cash as he drove away from his family home. Once again a tiresome prophecy and his vindictive uncle had driven him from the only place he cared about. As his motorcycle ate up the miles in front of him, the hollow place inside his soul widened as he left his twin and the woman Grae claimed as his empathic mate behind.
For his brother's sake, Cash hoped Grae was right. If she could balance Grae's magick then he could avoid their fate. As for his own fate, well, he had made his own choices and pushed his dark magick at every opportunity he could. Using had been his comfort and best friend for too long now—he couldn't turn back, couldn't stop using.
But he could confront the bastard that refused to give up. Find a way to stop him before one of his brothers got killed, or worse, used their black magick against him. No, Reverend Scott Cunningham had to be stopped before something really bad happened.
Cash nearly choked on the Reverend part of that. His uncle had managed to dupe thousands of people into joining his crusade all while he conspired against his own family. It seemed the closer to the edge he and his brothers got, the worse Scott became. The latest strike against Grae and Rena had turned deadly, leaving Cash to believe it was only a matter of time before someone else died.
Now he had to decide what would be the best approach to fix the issue. It would take a few days of riding to get there, so he had time to come up with a plan. Despite what most people thought of him, he wasn't nearly as rash and unpredictable as they said. He laughed. They was just another word for his nosy, interfering brothers.
His mind wandered back to Rena Gallagher and her theory of balance. She'd been hired by their uncle to study the family Tarot. According to her research, the Ten of Pentacles had clues depicted that meant more than what the prophecy actually foretold. The symbol they'd believed to represent the four brothers actually represented four women. Empaths. A woman meant for each of them.
Despite his behavior with Grae and Rena, there'd been a kernel of hope that had sneaked under the thick layer of rage he used to protect himself. The ceremonial joining with his brother, Grae had pushed their magick and experiences together, allowing him a glimpse into the power dynamic that flowed between he and his empath. Proving that, at least for his twin, it did seem possible, and his new mate could actually absorb the damage left behind every time Grae was forced to call upon the much stronger but far more dangerous, dark magick. That was all well and good for his twin. He however, had gone too far, more than his brothers knew. The likelihood of him overcoming his addiction to the dark had dissipated long ago. But if there was still a chance for his other brothers, Denn and Noah, he’d take it. No risk too great for family. If it was true…
Cash found it hard to believe that, after all these years, a new piece of the prophecy had been found. Was there a reason they'd only learned part of it? How had it gotten lost, and why did it take all these years to solve it? Had no one in the family known? Or had his uncle known all along and had only needed someone to solve the riddle of the Tarot?
These unanswered questions had him pulling his bike in a sharp swerve across two lanes to reach the shoulder of the road. With his pulse racing and his blood pumping hard it was difficult to concentrate.
“That's it. Someone does know. That son of a bitch. I'd bet money that dear Uncle Scott knows a whole hell of a lot more than he ever let on.”
Chapter One
Selene raced down the highway, pushing her motorcycle to its screaming limits. The wind bit at her around the full-face helmet she wore. Her Busa roared underneath her, vibrating against her legs and arousing her like a good man could. She needed this—the cool air, the rush of speed, and the open road. Staying in one place too long was always a bad idea.
With the open road came the freedom she craved, allowing her to l
eave all her troubles behind. At least, until they caught up with her again. No matter how hard she ran it would only be a matter of time before her past snared her once again.
Without warning a dark, powerful force slammed into her, taking her breath away. With its intensity her bike wavered, losing control. She white-knuckled the handgrips, forcing the bike to her own will to save herself from a high-speed crash. Her foot slid on the peg before her boots dug in, saving her from losing traction. Her limbs started to heat, an instinctive reaction, even giving off a slight glow.
What the fuck?
Using every ounce of strength she possessed, she fought to keep the bike upright as it leaned closer to the ground. The rough asphalt loomed in her vision. The muscles in her arms and shoulders stretched and burned with the extra effort. Damn, this is going to hurt.
As her body inched closer to the highway she felt the loose rocks bouncing against her helmet. She couldn't stop it now, the bike was sliding to the ground in an irreversible slow motion as she continued to race down the highway.
A flash of light to her left side startled her as she bumped against a soft but invisible barrier, which stopped her fall. Someone—or something—was holding her up from the pavement.
“Take my hand.”
The command startled her as she turned her head away from the pavement and saw a hand reaching out to her through something, a bubble of sorts, that surrounded his arm with a crackle of blue energy. Unable to stop and think about what the hell was going on around her, other than she was about to become a lump of road rash, she grasped the offered hand. More than anything, she didn't want to eat pavement tonight.
When her hand connected with his skin, the darkness she'd felt slammed into her, stronger than before, consuming her. She looked past the hand pulling her up into the most intense brown eyes she'd ever seen. No, not brown, a dark amber. Mesmerized, she held his gaze as her body heated in defense pushing back against the darkness threatening her.
As he pulled her and the bike upright again, their forward motion on their bikes helped them come sliding to a stop. She let go of his hand and tumbled to the ground, rolling away in time before her bike fell on top of her.
The heat built in her fast, whipping up and out of control as she fought to rein it in. Her head buzzed with the overload of energy. It was too late. She jerked her helmet off, struggling for deep, cleansing breaths. Control. Have to stop it. Flames erupted from the ground around her, circling her.
“What the hell?” The stranger ripped off his own helmet, revealing dark, wavy hair that curled around his head at the edges. His face looked like he hadn't shaved in a few days, and when he turned his killer eyes back towards her she felt the full effect of his good looks. He was devastating in that dark bad boy way she managed to fall for every damn time. But this time dark took on a whole new meaning as the flames leapt higher and he rushed forward to pull her free.
“Stop!” She motioned for him to stay away. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll get this shit under control.” She closed her eyes, not doubting that he would listen to her. As the darkness crept through her system she fought the pain and anger that came with it. The rage transferring from him to her stormed inside her. Pooling all her energy against the darkness, she pushed it up and out, directing it away from them.
“Holy fuck! Not my bike!” She opened her eyes to see his Harley on fire across the clearing from them. She watched in horror as he ran to it, and the bike exploded before them, knocking them both on their asses.
Her skin instantly began to cool as all the emotions behind the episode were directed outward. She hadn't intended to blow up his damn bike, but at least hers had not been close and they wouldn't be stranded here—together. For some reason that one word had her whole body tingling. Something about him compelled her. Crazy, that's what that is.
She scrambled off the ground with a quick glance around to ensure all the flames had extinguished, and ran over to the sexy stranger. “Are you okay?”
He lay there on the ground staring into the night sky scrubbing his hands over his face. “That was a vintage bike, you know.”
“Yeah, I do know.” She watched his bike burn, wondering what the hell had just happened. How had she lost control of her power? That hadn't happened since she was an angry teenager. Suspicion curled in her mind, threading through her and filling her with doubt. “Who are you? And why the hell were you so pissed when you touched me?”
“Who am I? Are you freaking kidding me? Who the hell are you? And what just happened here?” He sat up, motioning to his now charred and smoking bike.
“The name is Selene, and I'm sorry about your bike. I’d buy you a new one if I could.”
He stood, unfolding his tall muscular body, at least, from what she could tell under the leather he wore. The dark look he threw her sent a tiny shiver down her spine.
“Well, Selene, I don't think that'll be necessary, but you can, however, start with an explanation of what happened.” He watched and waited as she thought about how to explain it. Not many believed the truth so she often lied.
“Pretty simple, really. I rode a little too fast, lost control, and you came along and saved me from becoming roadkill.” She doubted he would understand that a force of dark power slammed into her and nearly incapacitated her. Unless, of course, he was the one responsible. He had to be. The source had radiated from him in an angry wave.
“That simple, huh? His voice vibrated in anger as he waited for the rest of the story. But he would be waiting till hell froze over before she told her secrets to a stranger who obviously had some pretty big secrets himself. ”No explanation for the fire that surrounded you or the fact that my bike just got blown to bits?"
She bristled at his tone. Damn smartass.
“What about you? How did you stop my fall and then pull me and my bike back up, all at a high speed?” She looked him straight in the eye. “Don't get me wrong. I'm extremely grateful, but I can't even begin to understand what happened out there.” Well, that wasn't exactly true. At the institute she had seen some pretty freaky shit. Nothing surprised her these days.
He stared at her for several long moments as they squared off with each other like two rivals over the same prize.
“Well, Selene, it seems we have a bit of a standoff here. How about a truce for now? You keep your secrets and I’ll keep mine.” His deep throaty voice rolled over her like smooth brandy on a cold night. He held out his hand in offering. Afraid to touch him again, she strode over to her bike and picked it up.
“I'll take that truce—I don't even know your name.”
“Cash.”
“Well, Cash, it looks like I owe you a ride. We aren't that far from Boston, why don't we hit it together on my bike? The least I can do is get you someplace that can provide you with a new ride.” Although the thought of him leaning against her on the bike frightened as well as excited her, she really had no other option here. He'd saved her and she wasn't about to leave him stranded here. And if he was someone after her, what better way to keep an eye on him? After all, this wasn't the first time she'd run from her prison and she wouldn't put it past them to get creative with her recapture or death this time.
She’d been repeatedly warned that one more escape would be her last. Her usefulness to them had officially come to an end. Selene shook the recent past from her brain. It was past time to focus on the future—her future.
Now if she could just get the tingling in her body to stop every time she imagined this new stranger touching her…
“I'll drive.” He held out his hand, waiting for the keys and the smart ass comment he was sure would follow. This one had quite an attitude to go along with that chip on her shoulder. That wasn't a problem for him, though. He could totally identify. One black sheep could easily identify another.
“Are you high? Do I look like the kind of person who would allow another to drive her bike? Uh uh. No way. Not gonna happen.”
“I'm sorry, but were y
ou not just about to become roadkill out there before I managed to stop it? Now you think I should let you drive me? Where's the logic in that?”
Lifting her foot to mount the bike, she paused but didn't turn. A sudden blast of heat rushed him, hot but not enough to burn. He'd let her play for now. But if she kept this up he'd be more than happy to teach the little firestarter a lesson. He'd never actually met one of her kind before, so he would be careful not to underestimate her power, but he doubted she could overcome his magick if need be. When it came to fire, his little brother Noah had taught him a trick or two.
Still, caution seemed warranted under the circumstances. She'd lost control of her power after the crash, and if they weren't careful someone could get seriously hurt. For now it was up to him to maintain that control, which meant driving.
Calling for a wisp of his own power, he pushed back in her direction a cold blast of air to cool her down.
She turned to face him. “How did you do that?” Looking into her cool blue eyes, he noticed genuine curiosity.
“Do what?” His lips twitched, holding back a smile. She glared back at him.
“Fine. Don't tell me. But hear this: you will not be driving my bike. Call me obsessive, whatever, but no one's hands other than my own touch those handlebars. If you have a problem with that, then you can stay here and wait. I'll send someone out for you as soon as I reach Boston. That should only be about a four-to-six hour wait. Your choice.”
A smile breached his face as she ended her tirade. Annoyance with him clearly whipped up a strong response. He'd love to test all that passion she exuded in his bed, and wrap his hands in the fiery hair of hers, tugging her head back to expose her throat to his mouth.