Breast cancer? Star candidate? What was he talking about? Why hadn't she told him? It made no sense. He tried to move and search out his wife's gaze but nothing was working. His eyes followed the doctors’ movements, but the rest of his body was frozen.
“Yes indeed. She has adapted to the whole idea of a purely cybernetic system in quite a positive way. She looks only half her age, if I do say so myself.” Dr. Nairobi chuckled and pressed a buzzer on the desk. “Yes. Nurse. Please ready operating room seven. We have a new whole body implant procedure ready to go.”
“You really are one of the lucky ones. Your wife was insistent that you be the next test subject.” Faustus opened the door as the nurse entered, pushing a gurney into the room. “Witchcraft can’t heal everything, now can it?”
Jonathan didn’t know what to say to that.
“Cybernetics is becoming quite the norm in modern medical practice, my dear Mr. Lisle.” He hefted Jonathan's weight and settled him onto the gurney. “Cancer treatments, limb regeneration, weight control. There is no medical maleficence we can’t conquer. You inquired about the devil. Well, frail humanity is the disease that must be stamped out.” He pushed the gurney a little further and paused. “There. Now where were we?”
“Modern medicine, sir.” The nurse smiled up at him, her over bright eyes catching the light.
Jonathan struggled against the paralysis, his body little more than a non-responsive wooden husk. The gurney rolled down another hallway, behind the offices and stopped in front of a large door.
“Nurse, if you please.” Nairobi pushed Jonathan into a well-lit operating room. His head lolled as they turned a corner and his eyes rested on one technician standing at the operating table.
“You're selection for this candidate is complete, doctors.” The tech turned to face the group and Jonathan's eyes met his. The phosphorus glow of the young man's gaze blazed into him as his body was lifted. Not human. None of them were. He stared behind him to a table filled with gleaming metal parts. Classical music filled the operating chamber, hiding the sounds of scissors cutting away the last of his clothing, leaving him naked and shivering in the harsh white light.
“Ah. Thank you Maddy. I believe Mr. Lisle will prefer that to the sounds of the operating room, won't you?” Nairobi approached, his face covered by a mask. Following close behind was Faustus. “Time to get started. We wouldn't want the drug to wear off before we've completed the transition, now would we?”
Faustus pulled a gown over his clothes. “Just hold on Mr. Lisle. You are in superb hands. Why, you'd be surprised at just how many people have turned the war on cancer and human degeneration into a win for the Cybernetic Society. Eternal life is, after all, our mission.”
The doctor placed an amulet around his neck.
Jonathan screamed inside his head as the first cut of the scalpel bit through his aged flesh. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as his wife entered the room. For the first time since he could remember she met his eyes, she stroked the amulet around her neck and smiled.
Chapter One
The woods outside of Moulin Revere
Shadows moved within the trees. Flashes of fang and fur broke the silent night as the witch moved between their war addled minds. Everything was all coming to plan. Soon there would only be her kind and the injustices of the past would be put to rest.
It was easy to fed them false leads, so ready were they to believe the worst. The vampires would be dust, staked and quartered in the noonday sun and the wolves would be mere pets and playthings. Lapdogs to do her bidding, much as witch kind had been for the power hungry packs and vampire covens for centuries.
She fingered the trinket through the pocket of her sweater and smiled. Not much longer now. Not much longer indeed. The witch entered her cottage and shut the door, a wolf’s death cry music to her ears. They would all pay. Every last one of them…For this amulet was only one of many. Her father had found that out the hard way.
***
Blackthorn Coven
Denis crept along the darkened corridors beneath the compound, conscious of the scuff of his shoes on the hard concrete. It was his job to monitor the comings and goings of the vault, but he had been remiss of late, saddled with caring for the new Vampire Regent and his court since the last caretaker had gone missing. It was a job for a staff, not just one person. At least in his opinion. He was just one human being for God’s sake.
Only God, he feared didn’t have much to do with the politics of this Coven of late.
Bloody wolves. All they did was cause trouble. If not for the Rivé Pack leader’s accusations against the Coven he wouldn’t even need to be down here. He wandered the long, gloomy passages of the catacombs muttering under his breath uneasy in the silence held within the shadows.
“Waste of time.”
But the Regent insisted in that crisp, aristocratic voice of his. Like he’d descended from royalty or some damned thing.
“Make sure the enclosure is intact, Denis.”
The previous Regent had been one of them. From Moulin Revere. Called into service when the last Regent bequeathed him the title, it had been an adjustment for many. Remus, the former caretaker loathed the man. Had that been the reason he’d disappeared? Fucking vampires.
But the moment he thought it, he shrank in fear. Some of them could read your thoughts. And the way Rand Sinclair gazed at him with those probing grey eyes was enough to make him scuttle his way down here. He had a feeling he wouldn’t like to see the man angry. Not at all.
So here he was, work backing up behind him, scrubbing around in the dark looking for something that hadn’t surfaced in more than a hundred years. Of course it was still down here. The case was spelled, according to what he’d been told. It had to be unlocked with a key and the only a select few members of the household had copies.
He came up on the steel vault door, completely out of character for the gloom around him and pressed in the combination on the illuminated security pad. The door whispered open, revealing an array of glass covered display cases emitting blue light amidst the murky interior. He edged inside and the door shut behind him. His gaze traveled over the wealth of old jewelry and family artifacts no doubt locked within the surrounding safety deposit boxes, all held by the Coven for centuries.
But only one glass enclosure drew him this night. One cursed object that had the potential to re-start a centuries old war between vampire and wolf kind. He’ heard about it. The staff whispered. He didn’t know why they didn’t have the amulet destroyed. Hidden from sight around the corner and toward the back of the vault, its presence loomed heavy since he’d taken the position.
It would have been better served being encased in cement. Let someone try and break it out then.
He scrutinized the panel of security cameras on the wall opposite where he stood and his mouth went dry. Number seven was down. Completely black. How long had the camera been out? Security should have notified him.
“Fuck,” he swore, stalking toward the display in a huff. One more thing to add to his list of endless tasks. No wonder the previous caretaker had up and left.
But as he rounded the corner, he paused, mid-step, horrified at the sight in opposite him. There, in front of the open glass case was the rotting corpse of none other and Remus Willoby, the previous caretaker, his hand grasping at something even in death.
He swallowed his revulsion and took a step closer. There was nothing resting against the black velvet. The glass door hung open, the keys dangling from the lock. What had Remus done?
The amulet was gone.
Gods. How long had…
Terror surged through him at the implications of what lay before him.
“No…”
Denis turned on his heel and ran.
***
“Come on Marsha. I know this great bar on Lisette Street. You have to try their Voodoo Hex. It’ll curl your toes.” Giselle looped her arm around her friend’s waist and ushered her back into the cr
owd. It was the week before Halloween and the moniker of being the one of the most haunted parish in Louisiana brought in the crowds, hot and heavy.
“I wouldn’t have pegged Moulin Revere for a tourist trap. Not like Orleans.” Marsha grinned, clomping along the cobblestone side street in her platform heels.
The night was hazy and filled with promise and she refused to listen to her hum drum elders intone about a big bad werewolf serial killer. Or whatever was out there stalking wolves.
Wolves were at the top of the food chain these days. Not like it used to be back in the day. When vamps were the enemy. Not anymore. Hell, her best friend Hannah was a vamp. She would have been here tonight too if their new Regent hadn’t had some stupid gallery event he was putting together.
Giselle let out a loud snort. “Girl, then you’d be wrong. I know you’re disappointed I couldn’t come back with you this weekend, but my cousin was counting on me to help out at this thing for the Pack.”
“Yeah,” Marsha curled her lip. “I know what you mean. My Alpha has us all on our toes. Was pissed at me for coming here. Something about missing wolves.”
Her heels tottered on the uneven pavement as she reached to straighten her skirt. “Ours is too. But I refuse to worry about it.”
“What’s he doing about it?”
Giselle shrugged. “We have a pack meeting tomorrow. But tonight…tonight we drink.” Her eyes caught on something lying in the gutter and she frowned.
“What?”
“Do you see that?” Giselle bent down, and reached for the shiny, object, captivated by the way it caught the light, even under the gauzy hue of the street lamps.
“Giselle?” Her friend backed away, uneasy.
But as she reached for it and her fingers brushed the cold blue stones, she felt the breath rush from her lungs. A vision of Aristide, her Alpha rippled through her consciousness and she reached for him. He was there, somehow in the murky gloom. But why was he there in the shadows?
She couldn’t reach.
He held out his hand and she stumbled toward him. Finally…she would get a chance at her greatest desire. She reached for him and her body fell forward even as the image of Aristide wavered and the shiny blue object vanished from sight.
She was good enough to be the next Alpha female. She would show them. Hell yes, she would show them all. Her greatest desire was there right at her fingertips and all she had to do was take it.
“Yes,” she whispered, ignoring her friend’s prattling behind her. But when she bent forward and the shadows reached up instead, the last thing Giselle heard was the sound of Marsha’s screams.
Chapter Two
“Evangeline. Get off the shelf please.” Diana Robichard frowned at the ghostly feline currently weaving to and fro amid the collectibles on the shelf. A bauble broken was one that wouldn’t sell. And the shop couldn’t afford the loss.
She’d worked hard to keep the doors to Moon Called open and to find a good use for her ability to unwind curses and manifestations housed within objects. Sometimes old things, like the urn that housed Evangeline brought her comfort, but others not so much.
Either way, the shop was her second home and for the girls in her employ, it was a place of new beginnings. Just like she’d had once.
Her gaze flickered to the picture of her grandmother that held a prominent place on the only spot on the wall that wasn’t covered by bookshelves. There was a lot you could tell about a person from their books. Her grandmother taught her that. And a whole lot more. The shop was hers originally and she’d taught Diana all she knew.
“When the time comes, girl, you pay it forward.”
She hadn’t understood what she meant then but she did now.
The cat gazed down at her and with a haughty flick of her tail, faded from view.
“I thought so.”
Damned fussy feline. Always had to have her say, even when her opinion wasn’t wanted.
Diana glanced down at her books, the figures swimming in front of her. Celine should be arriving for her shift and she was ready to call it a day. The new shipment of antiques and dealing with the amount of paperwork was mind numbing and she was looking forward to a glass of wine and a nice hot soak in the bath.
But then Rand was expecting her to attend some sort of museum opening tonight. Her second date with the vampire had left her hot, bothered and more than a little confused. Diana nibbled on her lip, not at all sure what the night would bring, but part of her hoped it included a continuation of the heated exploration of his very masculine…physique.
But that was later.
Diana also needed to talk to Celine and Gabby and she dreaded the conversation. One of the shop’s newest pieces had turned up missing after their shift. Gabby had taken the necklace in while she was held up out of town at a meeting with the antiques broker a few days before. All she had of the thing was a hastily snapped picture from her niece’s cell phone and a selfie of her and Gabby cutting up.
But now it was gone and a sickening feeling in her gut pointed to exactly where it might have gotten off to. There was a reason Celine was helping out at the shop. Diana’s sister Sarah had insisted. And one day she dropped her off after school, her long dark hair wound into a bun, fire snapping in her eyes.
“She listens to you. Knock some sense into her before she gets arrested for arson and I have to visit her at one of those work camps.”
Diana had raised an eyebrow. “And why am I suddenly the patron saint of troubled teenagers?”
“You really have to ask?”
Shit.
Her sister was right. Maybe that was one reason she hadn’t settled down and had kids of her own. Payback was a bitch and she’d given her parents a run for their money when she had been that age. And her grandmother, but by then she was the only one willing to take a chance on a witch with attitude and a penchant for trouble.
Magic for Diana was like a drug. It tickled and grew and before she knew it, she was drunk with power, using it for her own ends. Money machines. Hacking into the school computer to change grades. There was nothing a teenage Diana wouldn’t do to fit in.
And she paid for it in the worst way possible. Every time she saw her sister, the knife in the wound twisted all that much deeper. No. She wasn’t meant to have a family of her own. But that didn’t mean she didn’t want one.
She would try and atone for her sins and use her magic for good. But it was hard. The easy road came well…too easy. And she hoped she could help Celine before she made a decision that haunted her the rest of her life.
But Celine hadn’t given Diana a lick of trouble. No smoke. Not even a cigarette. Her friend Gabby on the other hand was another story. One day after school she appeared and with the blessing of her uber sexy dad, Aristide Benoit, she’d stayed.
“She’s gotten a few hard knocks and she’s made some mistakes. With her mother passing and some things happening with the pack, it would be great if she had a place to come to. Get her mind off of things at school and stuff at home.”
Of course she couldn’t say no. It would give Celine someone to talk to other than the shop’s ghost and maybe it would spur her niece to take things up a notch and try harder in her studies. But so far her family’s witchy heritage was lost on the girl.
And they could both learn how to catalog antiques. The curse working-or unworking, would have to come as Celine’s powers developed.
Diana had the feeling that was also what Sarah had in mind. Her sister had been a natural witch from the age of five and had never stopped relishing the fact that Diana had to work for her magic. But once the spark had hit when she turned fifteen, it was a toss-up as to who the more powerful witch was. But then it all went to hell and she was still trying to dig her way out.
The shop was the key to everything.
A few little things had gone missing of late but she hadn’t thought anything of it. A misplaced book here, a silver lipstick case that spelled its wearer to tell the truth…those thi
ngs she figured would turn up. But the amulet…from the moment her eyes had grazed the picture she knew it had to be dealt with and its powers expunged before whatever magic was embedded in it rippled through the shop. She’d texted the girls back.
Don’t handle it. Put it in the locked case and leave it with the spelled cloth. I mean it. Both of you.
They’d both responded. Late. But they were kids. And neither of them had showed any aptitude for magic. At least not that she’d seen so hopefully they wouldn’t feel any sort of lure to touch it. Gabby had the wolf to help guide her and sometimes she feared the wild spirit led her places best left undiscovered. At least for now.
She should know.
Diana thought about the uber short shorts the girl showed up for work in right before she left town and had to consciously bite her lip not to overly comment when she sent her home to change. Gabby stomped out in a huff but as she turned to walk out, she could see a spark of something in the way her lips tilted up in a smile.
Happy that someone had held her accountable? Maybe. Annoyed that she’d been sent home from work. Oh. Absolutely.
Diana sighed, rising from her chair behind the counter and rubbing her eyes. That didn’t change what had happened though.
One of the girls had taken it in while she was away. There wasn’t any other explanation. The necklace had been pretty enough. The blue sparkling diamond flanked with tiny white diamonds a near duplicate of the Hope Diamond. But there was something about the piece that set her teeth on edge. She’d planned on putting it into a lead lined case and running some tests on it when she got in today but in the flurry of last night’s curse working and the intake of new items, it had slipped her mind. But when she checked the case this morning she noticed the amulet was missing.
Had one of the girls borrowed it? Gabby was the last one to have worked, but she knew better than to take things that didn’t belong to her. Especially with a father like Aristide Benoit. At least, she thought she did. Her pulse sped up just thinking about the sexy shifter, but with his daughter working for her, she’d put off his advances and tried to ignore his smoldering looks.
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