Bound by Blood (The Garner Witch Series)

by P. A. Lupton

  “The last thing I want to do is to hurt you, or make you worry unnecessarily. But I can’t sit back and do nothing while innocent people are hurt, knowing that I have the power to stop it. I hope you can understand that, especially since you place your life in danger doing the very same thing.”

  He raised his head and locked his brown eyes onto mine, fingers lovingly wiping the tear from my face as he let out a heavy sigh. “Unfortunately, I do understand. What worries me though is that you will be facing more evil, and possibly on a daily basis—men who are not only evil, but immortal as well. I know you can absorb their power while you are near enough to channel it. But what if they learn your weakness and shoot at you from a distance—it has been attempted once already. What if I am not there to stop it? You protect no one if you are dead.”

  I cringed at the anxiety I was causing him. “I understand your worries, but still I need to help. The only thing I can promise you is that I will be as careful as possible.”

  “What if we made a compromise that we can both live with?” Suddenly, he looked a little brighter, and I felt the seeds of hope rooting within him.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “We have the ability as vampires to share immortality with a mortal, without changing them. If you were to consume my blood on a daily basis, you would become nearly as impervious to harm as I am. If you were injured and I was not there, your body would be capable of regenerating almost as well as mine.”

  “Okay,” I said with a flippant tone I didn’t actually feel. “Sign me up.”

  He chuckled, but his knowing gaze told me he knew how seriously I took the offer. “Again, we must request permission from the council first. Although, considering it serves their purpose as well, I’m sure they will agree.”

  Reaching up, he stroked my cheek gently, his chocolate brown eyes pulling me in. “We could work together, keep each other safe. He whispered the last as he leaned down and claimed my mouth in a rapacious kiss. His tongue rasped against mine and I felt heat rise through my body. I was overwhelmed by his love, and hope. His feelings not only mirrored my own, but amplifying them.

  A deep longing flooded my senses as he kissed me fervently, nipping at my lips. For a moment I almost forgot where we were, until I heard a noise from the other side of the room. I looked over and saw the four men who had left us alone standing there watching us. Morrison and Lucius smiled brightly, while the other two wore the same scowling expressions. Nathan laced his fingers through mine as he led me toward the council. “Brianna will agree to join the enforcers under two conditions.” Nathan announced vehemently.

  “And what are those conditions.” Marcus inquired, wearing a markedly softer look on his expression.

  “I would like permission to perform the blood rituals with Brianna. She will be facing an inordinate amount of danger and will need the added protection.”

  The three Elders glanced at each other, a silent communication passing between them. “Agreed.”

  “And...We will be partners.” Nathan’s staunch tone told Marcus unequivocally he would accept no opposition on the subject. Marcus nodded his approval.

  “Will I be able to keep my job at the FBI?” I asked.

  “Yes, in fact, your position with the FBI could prove useful to us.”

  “I want to help too.” Morrison interjected.

  Marcus’ brows rose, betraying his surprise. “You have definitely proven your worthiness to be a council enforcer. However, it is dangerous.” He shook his head as if he were going to deny his request. “You have yet to discover the full potential of your new abilities.”

  “I will not sit by and watch people I care about fight evil, putting their lives at risk, without helping.” He looked at me and then Nathan and I felt my eyes teeming with unshed tears. “So, with or without your approval, I fight with them.” He declared.

  “I will train him.” Nathan offered. There was a distinct note of pride in his tone.

  “So be it then. We will accept your offer Agent Morrison. You truly are a respectable man. Now if that is all,” Marcus dismissed us with a wave of his hand. “You may go.”

  “Oh, there is one more thing—” Nathan began, but was cut off by Antonius. “Yes, I will arrive tomorrow and take care of altering the memories requested.”

  I was relieved. With his help we’d be able to finally close out this case, without raising questions.

  “Thank You.” Nathan nodded and we left.

  As we drove away from the mansion, the three of us sat in retrospective silence. There were so many thoughts filling my mind, but what I really noticed was the deep sense of peace that had settled throughout me. I wasn’t worried about the danger. Whatever came, Nathan and I would face it together.

  From the time that I first discovered my abilities, I’d always had a bone deep feeling that I was supposed to be doing something worthwhile with the gift I’d been given. This felt right. I knew deep down that working as an enforcer was my destiny.

  A smile formed on my mouth as I realized I was with the man who filled my heart, and together we would be doing the work that would fill my soul. This felt like an ending, but also a beginning. My old life was over, my family’s murders avenged, and I had discovered more family—and there were still more out there. Now that the danger was over, it would be safe to search for them. I would not stop until we were reunited.

  My new life was just beginning. I had a lot to discover in this exhilarating new world of witchcraft and vampires.

  A Sneak Peek into a brand new novella by P.A. Lupton…

  Old Souls

  Chapter 1

  - First Impressions -

  My anxiousness spiked as I entered the boardroom. The lights had been dimmed to accommodate the projector that sat on the long wooden table, and a pull down screen hung adjacent the end. Twenty seats surrounded the table, most already filled with coworkers. Some I recognized, some I didn’t. No matter how I tried, I was unable to shake this odd feeling that had overwhelmed me all morning. A foreboding sense that something significant was about to happen. No wonder my nerves were stretched tight.

  Why was I so edgy? I was new to the job, yes, but I’d been here two weeks and was growing more comfortable every day. As one of the youngest, most sought after graphic artists in the advertising business, I had confidence in my abilities. And landing the position of art director at Young and Rubicam, one of Toronto’s largest firms, was a dream come true. Today, Mark Young— the Mark Young of Young and Rubicam—was attending. I’d been working on a project for one of the firm’s largest clients, and Mark Young always made final approval on important accounts. I’d yet to meet him, which is probably why I was so jumpy and tense.

  “You all right? You look like you’re gonna puke.” Although he sounded concerned, I noted a trace of humor in the familiar voice. Colin was my manager, and also the one who recommended me for this position. Not only was he my biggest fan, but he was also my best friend. He was my TA in university and it hadn’t taken long for us to become friends, especially with the easy rapport we shared.

  I flashed him a tentative smile. “Um, I’m fine. Just haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

  “Don’t be nervous, your designs are brilliant. Everyone’ll love them.”

  “You’re biased.”

  “Of course I am, but that doesn’t mean you’re not brilliant,” he smiled. “You, girl, have an amazing talent. I wouldn’t bullshit you.”

  “Thanks.” I sighed. “I know it’s pathetic, but I needed the pep talk. This is my first big presentation and I think I’m just nervous it’s happening in front of the big boss. What if he hates my ideas?”

  “No worries, he’ll love your work.” He winked as he pulled out a chair for me. “Besides, I’ve got your back.”

  Slanting a grateful smile, I watched as he took the seat beside me. And despite Colin’s uncanny ability to lighten my mood, I just couldn’t shake my growing tension. Probably sleep deprivation. Rea
lly, I wasn’t lying, I hadn’t been sleeping lately. In fact, strange dreams had plagued me since the day I started my new job.

  Despite the timing, my dreams had absolutely nothing to do with work. They were more…personal in nature. They were good, amazing even, but lately some of the dreams had become …unsettling. And by unsettling I mean down right terrifying. Still, I’d overlook ten times the amount of nightmares in order to experience the good ones. Heat spread across my face as the memory of the one I’d had last night replayed itself in my mind.

  A smile tilted my mouth as I recalled the man who played a starring role in my dreams. Stunning was far too tame a word to describe him. Seriously, even I had to give myself props for my imagination. Profound talent was required to conjure that man—I would never again doubt my artistic skill.

  High cheekbones and full lips softened the strong, masculine lines of his face, but the sharp angle of his jaw gave him a rugged look. The combination of hard and soft balanced his features, making the overall effect utterly irresistible. He had shoulder length brunette hair, and a strong dark brow. Ridiculously long, black eyelashes framed the most intense crystal blue eyes I’d ever seen. His clothes were strange, though. He wore a black, cropped riding coat with dark grey breeches tucked into leather boots. He was dressed like one of the heroes on the cover of the novels I read. His clothing told me I needed to lay off the historical romances I loved so much, but proof of that fact was unarguable when my hero spoke.

  “Je vis d'amour et d'eau douce.” the words, whispered as he leaned in to kiss me, echoed through my mind daily. It wasn’t just the husky, sensual tone of his voice that had me replaying the words over and over. It was their meaning that pulled at my heart.

  It was the strangest thing. I’d never spoken a word of French in my life, and yet in my dreams I had entire conversations with him in the language. Well, when we were having conversations, that is. But when I woke up, I could remember the words he’d spoken but I no longer understood their meaning. I had to Google it. ‘Je vis d'amour et d'eau douce’ translated: I live on love and water. My dream man was a romantic.

  Romantic words and gorgeous looks aside, what had me dwelling on the dreams was how real they felt. Less like vague impressions and more like memories—almost as if it had really happened. So realistic, I still felt the tingle in my lips as I was overtaken with flashbacks of his mouth claiming mine, possessing me while his tongue pushed past my lips and explored my mouth. Leisurely, the man kissed like he had nowhere else he wanted to be. Like nothing in the world existed except the two of us. Slow and teasing. And how pathetic was it that the best kiss I’d ever had (and I mean ever), happened in my sleep? Every time I dreamt of him, it ended up in the same place. My sex life had never been so good. I might’ve been asleep while it happened, but in my books it still counted, especially since I was reaping all the physical side effects. I’d never had so many orgasms while I was awake. How sad was that? I’d wake up with my heart hammering in my chest and panting for breath like I’d run a marathon. Even now, the memory alone had my body pulsating.

  “I’d kill to know what you’re thinking right now.” Colin’s voice broke through my daydream. It was like being doused with cold water. I was shockingly, and without warning thrust back to reality.

  That’s right, important meeting. Focus on work, Alyssa.

  “Nothing,” I lied. “Just my designs.”

  “Your designs are fantastic, but not good enough to justify that smile. Not to mention the fact that you’re breathing funny and you’re all flushed.” He snorted. “It’s a man.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I denied.

  “Oh yeah, it’s a man alright.”

  “I didn’t admit anything.”

  “You didn’t have to.” He leaned in eagerly awaiting the juicy details. Unable to resist, he was like a woman when it came to gossip. “Who is he? Anyone I know?”

  Refusing to answer, I opened the folders in front of me and pretended to be busy. He watched me avoid his gaze with amusement. “Come on, spill.”

  Man, he was relentless. Like a dog with a bone. Smirking, I arched my brow and remained silent. He returned my stare, patiently—better at this battle of wills than I was. His deep set, brown eyes bored into mine, a master at finagling confessions from me.

  “Let’s get started.” One of the executives from marketing announced. “Mr. Young is running late, but he’ll be along shortly.”

  I was glad for the interruption since I wouldn’t have held out under Colin’s scrutiny much longer. And I didn’t want the humiliation of admitting I was fantasizing about imaginary men now. How had my love life had become that tragic?

  ***

  Part way through the meeting my heart unexpectedly took off in an erratic gallop. My breathing sped and a warm tingle spread over my body. At first it felt like the response came out of the blue, but I was actually having some kind of reaction to a strange vibrating hum that had spontaneously taken root in my veins. The foreign sensation was unfamiliar, but not at all unpleasant. Something weird was happening, and whatever it was, it felt like the source of the current was getting closer.

  “You all right?” Colin leaned over and whispered.

  “Fine.” I snapped back, trying to act like I was paying attention to the presentation at the front of the room, like I couldn’t feel… something—I wasn’t sure what—getting closer.

  I tried to control my pulse and slow down my breathing. The more I thought about it the more I realized this wasn’t a new sensation. I’d definitely felt it before, mind you on a much smaller scale. It had started the day I interviewed for this job, but never as strong as it was now. What I’d felt then compared to what I felt now was like trying to compare static electricity to a bolt of lightning. Both were energy, but there was a vast difference in intensity. Right now, the buzz was lightning.

  What was once a whisper, a vague hint of something to come, was now a roaring hum through my veins that screamed so loudly I barely heard anything beyond the rush of blood in my veins. Whatever approached outside that door would change my life forever. This was it. This was what I’d felt looming. I don’t know how I knew it so certainly, but I did. Deep inside, something that had been buried had just come alive.

  The suddenness of the attack was so terrifying, so powerful and unexpected I’d almost given in to panic. Before I had a chance to freak out though, the door to the board room opened and all other thoughts and concerns evaporated when I saw the man towering in the doorway. The world screeched to a jarring halt when he stepped into the room. Frozen in place, I was completely unable to move or speak, drawn in by piercing blue eyes. Eyes that made the gravitational pull of the earth feel weak in comparison. I couldn’t have looked away if my life depended on it. The man standing in front of me was the man of my dreams, and I didn’t mean that figuratively. He had shorter hair, and he was dressed in a designer business suit, but it was him, the man I’d been dreaming about the past two weeks.

  The man running our meeting stood quickly, practically tripping over himself when he saw the man in the door. “Mr. Young, we were just about to—”

  “Everyone out,” the man—Mr. Young, apparently— bit out tersely, offering no explanation. His eyes never left mine as he ordered. “You, stay.”

  God, my dreams didn’t do his voice justice at all. There was a dark, seductive tone to it that made me want to strip my clothes off where I stood. Wait, what was I thinking? I was in the middle of a meeting. I shook myself back to reality and it finally hit me what he’d just said. Was he talking to me? He wanted me to stay? Shocked, my eyes widened and I looked to my left then my right. Surely he was talking to someone else. Hesitantly, I asked, “me?”

  “Yes, you.”

  What the hell? I was taken aback by his gruff tone. Where was that soft romantic tenor from my dreams? His voice was slightly accented, but other than that he was completely different. Abrasive. And why was he glaring at me like he was angry? I’d never
met the man—at least not in person anyway.

  Colin leaned over to whisper. “Shit Lyss. What’s this about?”

  “No idea.”

  “Why is he—”The rest of Colin’s question died midsentence when he suddenly noticed Mr. Young’s eyes had narrowed and his attention was focused solely on him. And he was pissed.

  “I… Said… Leave.”

  Colin visibly swallowed before he stood, grabbed his folders and turned to leave without another word. So much for having my back, I thought caustically. My stomach took a dive as my best friend left me alone with the angry man. Feeling like a recalcitrant child about to be reprimanded by my parents, my stomach turned with unease. What did I do?

  Curious glances from my fleeing coworkers flashed between me and the six foot four, fiercely intimidating man dominating the room. Heat rose in my cheeks. How humiliating. What must these people think?

  “Close the door on your way out.” He clipped as the last person passed him, his eyes never straying from mine. I heard the soft snick of the door closing.

  And then we were alone.

  An uncomfortable silence hung in the air. His expression softened slightly, but he still looked menacing. When our eyes connected and his clear blue gaze bored into mine, I recognized a spark of something almost familiar. God, I could drown in his eyes, like I might sink so deep I’d never come up for air. But that was the romantic remnants of my dream man spilling over. This man was not him. Was he? I mean, he looked exactly like him. Right down to an almost imperceptible scar above his right eyebrow. How was it possible?

  With a militant stance, his unreadable eyes examined me from head to toe. His emotions remained locked tight. I had no idea what he was thinking or why he was scrutinizing me so closely, it was damned uncomfortable.

  This was a completely new experience for me. I could piss people off, don’t get me wrong, but this was the first time I’d managed to accomplish it with a perfect stranger. Normally, I got along well with others. I’d been told I was friendly and outgoing, and I had plenty of friends to back that theory. So what could I have done to make him angry? Regardless, whatever his problem was he should have handled it better than this—after all, he was supposed to be a professional. This behavior was most certainly not professional. My intimidation was quickly replaced by indignation.