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Doomsday Brethren, Book 04: Entice Me at Twilight

Page 33

by Shayla Black


  “And what?” He approached silently and cupped her shoulders.

  Felicia loved him, and he knew that. But damn it, would it always be hard for her to admit? He’d pursue her to the ends of the earth if necessary, but just once, he’d like the assurance of knowing that she came to him because she desired his company, trusted his counsel, wanted his nearness.

  “I’ve been terrified that I waited too long to tell you that I love you and now …” She sobbed.

  It hurt like hell to see her in pain.

  Suddenly, Felicia flung herself into his arms. “I know you mated with me because you were compelled and you didn’t really know me and …” She hugged him tighter. “I love you. Let me prove that.”

  “And you thought I was angry with you? That I no longer loved you?” He stared down into her miserable blue eyes and felt his heart catch.

  “Yes.” Her sadness crested, then she shook her head. “You once loved me. I didn’t know if you still could. I felt it when you used your magic. You’ve been open almost from the start about your feelings. I didn’t know how to be. I … don’t deserve you.”

  He guided her away from the cemetery, toward the little park across the street. When they reached a quaint wrought iron bench, he sat Felicia down and glanced at her with reproach. “I hope you really don’t think that, or we’re doomed to a miserable life together.”

  “I want to be with you. I’ll be here for you always. Give me a chance. Please. I’ll endeavor to deserve you.”

  “You can do that …”—he pulled the small object from his suit coat and knelt at her feet—“by marrying me. The human way, in front of friends and family.”

  Felicia gasped, staring at the ring. He’d purchased it during their stay at the Dorchester, hoping he’d have the opportunity to propose to her after the charity ball. Then she looked at his face, so full of hope and tenderness. The tears started again.

  “I’ve arranged for a small ceremony on the beach in Barbados, if you say yes. But Sunshine, I want you to have the choice this time. Stay with me not because you’re compelled by magic or guilt. Stay because you love me.”

  She blinked, fat tears spiking her dark lashes. Her eyes looked so achingly blue and happy. “Truly?”

  “Always.”

  A smile broke out across her face, with the beauty and promise of a new dawn. “Yes. Yes! A thousand times yes.”

  He slid the ring on her finger, then lifted her chin until she met his gaze. “Why?”

  “Because I love you, more than I ever thought I could ever love anyone, Simon. Forever.”

  He dropped a perfect, sweet kiss on her lips, ripe with the promise of years of happiness to come. “I’ll hold you to that. Because I love you forever, too.”

  Turn the page

  for a special look

  at the next exciting Doomsday Brethren novel

  EMBRACE ME AT DAWN

  by

  Shayla Black

  Coming soon from Pocket Books

  PRESENT DAY—ENGLAND

  ANKA MACTAVISH HELD HER breath as the most beautiful man she’d ever seen stormed toward her, one heavy footstep after another. Lucan, her mate.

  Former mate, she reminded herself. He hated her now, with good reason. She had no one to blame but herself.

  His full mouth thinned into a grim line, blue eyes narrowing, as he drew closer. At the sight of his obvious anger, she turned away, toward the surprising warmth of the January sun, praying the golden rays would chase away the perpetual chill that had plagued her these last four months.

  It almost worked. Then Lucan seized her arm and spun her around to face him, dragging her close to the familiar heat of his body. Suddenly, she didn’t need the sun at all. Their gazes connected, and heat bled through her veins. Her heart lurched in her chest. She felt a jolt of connection all the way down to her soul.

  As quickly as he’d grabbed her, Lucan yanked his hand back as if she’d burned him. Sadly, the connection she felt was all one-sided.

  “Are you out of your mind?” he growled. “No. The answer is absolutely no.”

  Anka let her lashes flutter down, breaking the pull of his furious stare, then forcing herself to step away from his beloved warmth. She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “So Bram told you that I want to join the Doomsday Brethren.”

  Admittedly, asking the leader of the warrior wizards dedicated to ridding magickind of the evil Mathias D’Arc to allow a witch to join their ranks had been a long shot. But damn it, she had a personal stake in this fight. Those who followed Bram into this terrible magical war all sought peace, to make magickind safe again. Admirable. Once upon a time, she’d wanted that, too.

  Now, her heart stabbed her chest with every beat, wanting only revenge against the wizard who had destroyed her once-perfect life.

  “Yes, he told me.” Lucan leaned into her personal space, his glare intimidating, as he no doubt meant it to be. “And it’s mad! I won’t have it.”

  That familiar woodsy-musky scent of his hadn’t once failed to arouse her in the two hundred years they’d lived and loved together. Nor did it fail today.

  Inching back, Anka sent Lucan a sad smile. Not for one second did she imagine that he loved her enough to be concerned for her safety. Four months ago, before her world had shattered around her, absolutely. No mate had been more protective than Lucan. Today? She winced. He rejected her now because he didn’t want to have to fight beside her. Bloody hell, he didn’t even want to see her. He’d made that painfully clear.

  This was the longest they’d spoken in weeks, maybe even since Mathias had abducted her last September, before everything had changed. Before the terrible wizard had forced her to break her mate bond with Lucan and ravaged her until she barely knew her own name.

  Even the thought of those harrowing days as the madman’s captive made her want to crumble. For a long time, she’d done nothing more than hide, fighting off one nightmare after another, licking her wounds.

  No more.

  Shoving aside both regret and tears, she tossed her head back and met Lucan’s damning stare. “It’s no longer your decision.”

  Instantly, his jaw clenched, his nostrils flared. Those blue eyes of his could look so tender, but now they glowed with fury and condemnation. “You’re right; it’s not. And as much as I hate Shock, I know him. There’s no fucking way he’ll allow you to fight with us.”

  Shock doesn’t care. Anka kept the thought to herself. The last thing she wanted to discuss with her former mate was her current lover, his enemy, Shock Denzell. At least, Shock was her lover when he was sober. Lately, that was never. Which suited Anka. More and more, Shock had been escaping into the bottom of a bottle. Anka hadn’t tried to stop him.

  Lucan didn’t care about her personal drama with Shock. The only thing that mattered to him was that she hadn’t returned home after escaping Mathias and his torture. In fact, Lucan probably thought she’d done her utmost to rub salt into his wound by giving herself into Shock’s protection. Never mind that breaking the mate bond had obliterated her memories of Lucan for weeks afterward. Never mind that she’d been barely alive and instinctively sought a safe haven, in case Mathias hunted her again. When she’d first reached Shock, she’d been dangerously low on energy. And he’d been more than happy to share hot exchanges of frequent, raw sex to repower her magic and keep her alive—at least at first. Her former mate didn’t know or care that Shock almost never touched her now, or that Anka no longer wanted him to.

  Lucan only cared that she had betrayed him.

  “Shock’s opinion on the matter shouldn’t concern you. I’ve offered to lend my wand to a fight that’s desperately outnumbered. The decision to accept or not is Bram’s. If you’re so against me joining, talk to him.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “The second Sabelle gave me the news, that went on my agenda.”

  Anka pressed her lips together to hold in a curse. Of course, her old friend and Bram’s sister would spill the secret. Sabel
le was worried about her and still believed that Lucan cared enough to stop Anka from endangering herself. Sabelle’s attempt was sweet in a fashion, if futile.

  “Be my guest.” Anka gestured across the expanse of Bram’s winter-brown lawn, dormant roses swaying with the slight breeze. The Doomsday Brethren’s leader’s massive new house beckoned, workers in the distance adding finishing touches to the structure built directly over the site of the original estate, which Mathias had destroyed. “But you won’t stop me from trying to convince Bram that I can be an asset to your fight.”

  Lucan scowled at her as if she’d lost her mind. “After what Mathias did to you? Why would you imagine that you’d be doing anything more than putting yourself—and the rest of us trying to save you—in more danger?”

  It was a fair question, but she refused to be cowed. “I’m not the same woman I once was.”

  Lucan clenched massive fists as his side. “I noticed.”

  He was trying to restrain his temper. Anka had seen this behavior more than once during their mating. She bit her lip to hold in a bittersweet smile. How much she missed his face and every one of those expressions she knew so well. If Bram refused to allow her to join the Doomsday Brethren, would she ever see them again?

  Despair bottomed out her stomach into a endless chasm of dread. It was unreasonable to assume that she would forget two centuries of sublime happiness in mere weeks, but even tragedy and rape couldn’t obliterate love. Such joy would never be hers again … no matter how much she wished it could.

  “I have to go.” Anka couldn’t bear to look at him again and wonder if this would be the last time.

  But when she turned toward Bram’s home, she saw a familiar narrow-hipped giant sauntering her way. Shock. He wore black leather from top to bottom, like something out of a motorcycle gang—or a fetish club. A goatee framed his full mouth and square chin. Sunglasses covered his inscrutable eyes. She knew without seeing them that he glared at Lucan.

  Her former mate shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, clearly itching for a reason to charge Shock. “Why are you here?”

  The arch of Shock’s black brow popped above his dark-tinted glasses. “I need your permission to be here?”

  Lucan hesitated. Anka hadn’t thought it possible, but his body grew more taut. “After you dragged Tynan away last week, took him to your boss, then tossed him aside when he was only suitable for a body bag, you have a shitload of audacity to show your face.”

  “Could you read Tynan’s mind?”

  No, but Shock could. And everyone knew that since Mathias had murdered the love of Tynan’s life, Auropha, upon returning to magickind months ago, the wizard had had a death wish. Shock had done nothing more than grant it.

  The night of Tynan’s death, Shock had sunk further than ever into a bottle. Given the depth of his black mood, Anka was surprised to see that he’d crawled out.

  “You could have saved him,” Lucan growled. “And you didn’t.”

  “You think Tynan would have thanked me if I had?”

  Shock crossed his arms over his chest and waited for Lucan to concede. That was never going to happen. These two together had always been like oil and water. She’d cared deeply for both of them for centuries. Now, like then, divided loyalties were tearing her up inside.

  “I’m leaving.” She spun away from the two men.

  “Where are you going?” Lucan demanded, grabbing her arm, his hold sizzling though her entire body, settling with a gentle ache right between her legs.

  Shock took hold of the other in an equally tight grip. “Where have you been?”

  They were both aggressive, demanding. A chill wound through her, killing the spark of arousal. She knew better than to jerk away. Either—or both—would do everything in his power to hold her until they got answers.

  “I’m here to talk to Bram. Let go.” She glared at them both.

  Lucan dropped her arm with a curse. Satisfied, Shock slowly unwound his fingers from her wrist. Anka knew that if she turned her back on them, it wouldn’t be long before they began to argue—with their wands and their fists. But neither man was her responsibility any longer. Lucan’s magical signature revealed that he was brimming with energy, and Anka wondered who he’d been taking to his bed to generate it. If she stayed to ponder the question longer, she would only cry.

  And she’d left Shock a few days ago. This was likely the first time he’d been sober enough to notice her absence. But no matter what he said, she wasn’t going back. They were slowly killing each other.

  Anka turned toward the house again, this time to see Bram striding toward them, grim purpose filling his sharp blue eyes. In a glance, he took in the scene. His tawny hair moved with the breeze. He was so focused, he didn’t notice or care.

  “Shock?” the Doomsday Brethren’s leader stopped in front of the other wizard, his brow lifted as if to ask why the hell are you here?

  Clearly, Shock wasn’t popular with anyone here. Then again, he never had been. No one trusted him. Anka only did because he’d kept her secret for so long—just as she’d kept his. She’d always known that if one of them went down in flames, they’d be going together.

  Smirking at Bram’s arrogance, Shock pretended he didn’t see the other wizard’s impatient expression. “Yes?”

  “No bloody stupid games. I hear you’ve come to see me. Out with it, then. And this had better be about stopping Mathias and Morganna le Fay’s antics. They’ve been so busy of late that everyone in England thinks the sky is going to fucking fall months before the Mayans supposed.”

  Shock’s posture lost some of its starch. “That’s exactly why I’ve come. When Mathias resurrected Morganna in her tomb a few weeks ago, he planned to meld her power to his and—”

  “Be magickind’s most dastardly supervillain or whatever the hell, I’m sure.” Bram raked a hand though his already-mussed hair. “But did he have to take all that energy and direct it against humans? My God, if humankind discovers that we truly exist, the Inquisition will look like a friendly game of croquet.”

  “Did you want him to direct his power at magickind?” Lucan glowered.

  “It’s only a matter of time before Mathias comes after us, too,” Anka murmured. “We all know that.”

  She, better than most.

  Shock growled, “Fucking listen! Mathias had nothing to do with the decimation of the Tower of London last week or the death of all those tourists. Morganna is beyond control.”

  “Even Mathias’s?” Bram quizzed.

  Nodding, his dark waves brushing his shoulders, Shock confirmed what some of the Doomsday Brethren had long suspected: Morganna wouldn’t be tamed. “Completely. And she is obsessed.”

 

 

 


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