“Yes,” he replied, clearing his throat when it came out all husky and nervous. “I wish to be a Sorcerer.”
The Marid raised a thick dark eyebrow before he nodded slowly. “I grant you this wish, Charlie Creagh.”
~27~
Kiss of Darkness
Ari hovered outside her dad’s bedroom, glancing at the hall clock again. It was noon and he still hadn’t made an appearance. For the fiftieth time she raised a fist to the door, ready to knock, ready to face him. And then the nerves caught hold of her gut again like vicious little gremlins playing with her insides, and Ari fell back, taking deep breaths, trying to pull herself together.
Just as she was sure she was ready to knock for real this time, the doorbell rang downstairs. Hoping it was no one else but Charlie, Ari almost threw herself into his arms when she swung the door open to find him there. But the memory of the night before, of crying herself to sleep over someone else, stopped her short. Charlie grinned at her, striding into the house, an electric energy seeming to buzz around him. He placed a proprietary hand on her waist, his lip curling in that sexy, arrogant way of his. “Can we talk?”
Curious, Ari nodded. “Sure.”
She headed upstairs, hearing them creak behind her as he followed her. Suddenly she was conscious of the fact that her ass was in his face and she hurried up the steps, bemoaning how easily she blushed. It was just… Charlie had been acting so differently around her lately. She wasn’t sure what it meant and right now she wasn’t sure she could deal.
Wow. She never thought she’d ever doubt wanting to be with Charlie.
Feeling inexplicably guilty again, Ari let him into her room and shut the door quietly behind them.
“Have you spoken to your dad yet?”
She shook her head, staring at him as he stood before her, his eyes warm, his hair all mussed up as usual. He stood with his hands stuck lazily in his pockets. He looked casual, relaxed.
Happy?
“He’ll come around.”
“Yeah.” Ari wasn’t so sure. “So… what did you want to talk about?”
He sobered, taking a step towards her. “First, I want to apologize.”
“Apologize?” For what? What did he do?
“Yeah. Apologize. For all the times in the last two years I turned my back on you. I was messed up and I didn’t want to drag you down. I didn’t think I was good enough for you.” He took another few steps until he was standing inches from her, the lemon detergent his mother used on his clothes tickled her senses, reminding her of those two lonely years. “I’m sorry, Ari,” he whispered, leaning in and making her heart pound. “For hiding from someone so special and taking you for granted. And on that note… the second thing I wanted to talk about…” When his lips came down on hers and his strong arms pulled her close, Ari froze. Probably assuming it was surprise, Charlie grasped the back of her neck, his fingers threading through her hair. The soft pressure of his lips began to unwind her and Ari found herself holding on to him, kissing him back. Thoughts of Jai pushed in on her, screaming at her that she was acting unfairly. But Jai doesn’t want me, she argued. And Charlie does. And I love Charlie. I do. Sighing into his mouth, Ari let her lips fall open and Charlie took the invitation, his tongue teasing hers in a wet, deep kiss that flushed her cheeks rosy red.
So she didn’t feel the overwhelming, unbearable, nerve shattering heat she felt with Jai.
But this was good.
This could be so good.
This was Charlie.
Kissing him back harder, Ari almost smiled when he groaned, the vibration shooting through her body. He gripped her closer, her shirt straining against her chest as he scrunched the back of it in his fists, aiming to press as much of his body against hers.
“Ari,” he moaned, pulling back to look at her, his eyes bright with desire. He just took a moment — almost as if he couldn’t be away from her lips any longer — but that moment was all Ari needed to be reminded that his eyes were brown.
Not green.
And as awareness of what she was agreeing to came down on her like a ton of concrete, so did her awareness of everything else. She felt the hum of energy above Charlie’s skin, the hum that she’d attributed to lust.
But it wasn’t lust.
It was familiar.
It was…
NO!
She pulled back from Charlie, her mouth falling open in disbelief, her hands shaking as they slid across his chest feeling the power pulsate from him. “What did you do?” she croaked, horror filling her mind.
His wide eyes grew less panicked as he realized she had sensed it on him. He grinned, tugging at her arms and folding her hands in his. “I made a wish, Ari.”
“What?” NO! NO! NO! This isn’t happening!
“I’m a Sorcerer now. I had to Ari.” He pulled on her hands as she tried to tug out of his hold. “I have to get that bitch that killed Mikey and this was the only way to do it.”
“No!” she cried, disbelieving he had done this to himself. “Didn’t you read that stuff about them, Charlie? This isn’t a way to get revenge for Mike. This is a way to destroy yourself!”
The screaming in her head only grew louder as her heart pounded in panic. There had to be away to fix this. There had to be? How did this happen? How did he make this happen?
About to voice the question, Ari jerked back from him as flames erupted at the bottom of her bed, and Jai dove out of the Peripatos with a look of pure fury on his face. He lunged at Charlie and Ari moved fast, putting herself between the two of them.
“What the hell did he do to you?” he yelled, completely disregarding the fact that her dad was down the hall.
Terrified by the look on Jai’s face, Ari held him back with a forceful hand pressed against his chest. She felt his own heart pounding beneath her palm and was surprised by his reaction. It occurred to her when she was recoiling in horror at Charlie’s admission she may have telepathed that horror to the one person who made her feel safe. Stupid. Stupid. Shaking her head at herself, Ari slapped her other hand against Charlie’s chest. “He made a wish.”
Jai looked momentarily stunned, his rage deflating at the revelation. “A wish?”
“To be a Sorcerer,” she added pointedly.
Rearing back at that, Jai eyed Charlie over her shoulder, his vivid gaze focusing on him, searching. When he found what Ari had, he shook his head in disgust. “You are such a dick.”
Epilogue
Moving the Players into Position
“So the rumors were true, brother?” The Gilder King asked from his place beside The Lucky King. Like The Red King and his brother of The Glass, those two were on truly friendly terms, and truly comfortable with one another because they were the only two brothers neutral in The War of the Flames.
The Red King lounged before them on his leather chaise longue, the huge fire behind him having no effect on the room’s occupants other than to add a shadowy, secretive ambience he thought fitting for the occasion. Rarely did the Jinn Kings meet with one another these days, and never all at once. But before him was a nice gathering of his brothers.
Everyone but The White King. The White King who was mad. Delusional enough to believe he could possibly be Sultan. No one had Azazil’s power. No one. And only one had the ability to manipulate Azazil. A girl… an innocent…
They all stood around his living room with its dark red painted walls and gilt-laden furniture. His taste differed from most Jinn. He liked texture and color and luxury. The cold decorative tastes of the general masses seemed in complete opposition to their fiery natures and he refused to bow to convention.
“Yeah. The White King stole the Seal and now it’s a girl. His daughter.”
The Gleaming King cursed viciously. “Why would he not tell me of this?”
The Red King grinned. Yeah, that had to sting. The Gleaming King and The Shadow King were allied with The White King. They shared bitter looks, making no effort to hide the fact that they were s
urprised the king they backed in the war hadn’t seen fit to confide something so important to them. He hoped it effed up that sick little “Triple Alliance”. “I guess he was playing this one close to the chest, boys. But it’s true. With the Seal of Solomon alive and kicking and literally up for grabs, the war has become a whole new ballgame.”
“Why are you telling us?” The Lucky King narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“Because Azazil wished it.”
They all shared a knowing look, their lips curled in understanding. Trying not to think of Ari, or let his cocky smile falter, The Red King murmured dispassionately, “You know Father likes a good drama. You better choose your sides again, brothers. Our Father is not about to lose this one.”
Without even a ‘by your leave’, as if their minds thought as one, The Gleaming King and The Shadow King fled into the Peripatos. Ignoring the press of worry that gnawed at his chest, The Red King grinned over at The Gilder and Lucky King. “Well… in or out?”
“Still out,” they said in unison, although they couldn’t help but looked intrigued. They were of course their father’s sons. But with one last wary look, The Red King was unsurprised when they too stepped off into the Peripatos to return to their palaces to live out their lives away from the conflict.
Remaining before him was the brother who looked most like him. The Glass King. His deep, cerulean blue hair slid across his shoulders as he strode towards him. Unlike Azazil and the others, The Glass King favored stark leather vests that matched his trousers instead of colorful robes. He wore no earrings, no rings, had no tattoos. His eyes that could be mistaken for being dyed to match his hair shone fiercely out of his exotic face. He dropped to a knee, clasping his hands together, the leather cuffs around his wrists straining with his intensity. He bowed his head, his blue hair shimmering in the light from the fire as it fell over his face. Feeling less alone, The Red King placed a weary hand on his brother’s shoulder, silently asking him to lift his head. He did and they shared a long look of resignation.
The Glass King nodded in understanding, perceiving things within The Red King that none of the others ever had. His grim façade softened and he placed his own hand on The Red King’s shoulder. “How may I serve you, brother?”
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born and raised in Stirlingshire, Scotland, Samantha Young has been dreaming of other worlds and realms since she first picked up a certain classic novel by C.S. Lewis when she was seven years old. It was only after graduating from the University of Edinburgh in 2009 that Samantha decided to pursue her writing career. Currently, she is the author of eight novels and one novella.
To enter Samantha’s world of paranormal and fantasy adventure visit her blog/website at http://www.samanthayoungbooks.com
Please enjoy this excerpt from
Blood of Anteros, Book I of The Vampire Agápe Series by Georgia Cates
Available now through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes bookstore,
Sony, Diesel, Baker-Taylor, Kobe and Smashwords
Blood of Anteros Synopsis-
I was tantalized by the mystery of her. The leech inside me came out to find prey, but found none in this enigmatic girl. The close proximity of her essence didn’t entice the monster within, so what did that make her? I had more questions than answers, but one thing was unmistakable; although she released me from her embrace, her hold on me remained.
Cruel circumstances turned Curry Brennan into the wretched monster he hates and refuses to accept, but when an expected turn of events releases him from the bond of his obsessive maker, he returns to the home he knew 161 years earlier and finds the return of happiness and joy in something he didn’t know existed. Puzzled by his growing attraction to Chansey Leclaire, a human, he is unable to resist the captivating relationship that threatens to reveal his existence as a vampire. He eventually discovers the reason he was destined to find what he didn’t know he searched for and is faced with the cruel realization that the living and the immortal undead will always be separated by one thing. Eternity.
Chapter One
July 11, 1989
21 years ago
Los Cabos, Mexico
Humans chased eclipses so they could say they were witnesses to them, but we chased the darkness of the moon covered sun because it coincided with spectacular supernatural events for our kind. The greater the eclipse, the greater the outcome, and this was predicted to be the grandest total solar eclipse since 1955.
We arrived at our resort, under the cover of darkness, the night before the eclipse. Marsala, my maker and eternal captor, studied the prediction of the paramount eclipse, along with the history of others, to predict the best location for us to experience its projected greatness. Because the narrow path of the eclipse was limited to tropical locations, we were required to leave the safety of a cooler, darker climate and she carefully chose Los Cabos, Mexico as our location. She never revealed the nature of her rationale, but her secrecy came as no surprise; it was her way. Unlike other guests at this tropical destination, pleasure wasn’t what drew us to this all-inclusive beach resort; Marsala had ulterior motive in mind.
It was no surprise to learn Marsala made arrangements for us to share a suite. She assigned the other half of our foursome, Wythe and Madon, to a suite down the beach from us and ordered them to remain there while she and I experienced the eclipse together, as a couple. She was shameless in her show of partiality for me, but her efforts to win my heart were pointless; she refused to see my deep loathing for her.
Wythe and Madon were captives like me, with one exception; they loved Marsala unconditionally. She always chose me first, leaving them to battle for second place, while the loser settled for third. Both were completely unaware it was a competition I had no desire to win.
She sought their love and intimacy, only after failing to capture my heart. She toyed with them, playing one against the other as she coaxed them to fight for her affections, promising her love as a prize for the winner. She used their competition as entertainment and it was one of many cruel ways she made herself feel wanted and worthy.
Wythe and Madon shared a common loyalty and devotion to Marsala, along with jealousy and hatred for me. They were furious because she had chosen to experience the supernatural event with me, while they were ordered to not interrupt, and her wrath was the only reason they didn’t kill me. I wished they would, but they weren’t kind enough to put me out of my misery, leaving me forced to do it myself.
I spent the evening avoiding Marsala, along with her romantic advances. She finally conceded and left the suite, giving me a few hours of peace before she returned, shortly before dawn. From refuge in the bedroom, I smelled a human and recognized it as another one of her games. The warm, fresh blood was intended to taunt and punish me for resisting her romantic advances.
I spent the day in the dark bedroom, away from the sinister devil that refused to release me from her hold, and waited for the moon to cover the sun. Eclipse watchers gathered on the beach outside our suite and their excitement could be heard inside the safety of our suite as the darkness approached. I left the bedroom and entered the living room to find a young Mexican woman sitting quietly on the couch. “Curry, I have something special for you.” There was no fear on her face, a sign she didn’t realize Marsala was a vampire with plans in store for her.
“I don’t want your gift,” I replied, dryly.
“You can be so inconsiderate at times. I went to a lot of trouble for this one and I know you thirst for her blood; I see the desire all over your face,” she taunted.
“You know how I feel and I grow tired of repeatedly explaining the fact that we no longer need to kill humans to survive.”
She ignored my words and attempted to taunt me further by saying, “Can’t you smell the richness of her blood?”
“Why is it impossible for you to take no for an answer? It’s exhausting. You are exhausting.”
“Curry, we’ve waited for this total
solar eclipse since 1955. Something spectacular is about to happen and that means this is a time to celebrate.” She walked over to the young woman sitting on the couch and lifted her wrist in my direction, offering the first drink to me. “Please join me in drinking from her. I chose her just for us because I know she will be delicious.”
Bewilderment flooded the young woman’s eyes as she looked to me for some kind of reaction since she didn’t understand English. She was confused by Marsala’s gesture, but I gave her a false smile of reassurance and was glad she didn’t comprehend what was about to happen to her.
I was powerless to stop Marsala, but I refused to watch her prey upon this innocent woman, so I stood to leave the inevitable scene and heard Marsala whisper her patented line. “Know the truth, but whisper lies.” It was what she always said the moment before she devoured her prey.
I entered the suite’s bathroom and shut the door before the young woman’s screams invaded my sensitive ears. I looked at the stranger in the mirror staring back at me and wondered who he was. His image stood just under six feet tall and his hair was dark, nearly black, like his heart. I leaned closer to the reflection, attempting to see a glimpse of myself within the monster standing in front of me and searched his eyes, the so-called windows to the soul. I looked beyond the flecks of light blue and gold of his irises, but found no trace of the soul I was told no longer existed and wondered, “Who is this demon mocking my every move?”
Shortly after the woman’s screams stopped, I felt the arrival of the darkness and silence swallowed the noise of the crowd’s loud anticipation. Marsala anxiously called for me from the other room. “Come Curry. It is time.”
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