Paranormal Magic (Shades of Prey Book 1)

by Margo Bond Collins

  He brought her to the brink of ecstasy again, urged her to a point of bliss her body craved. As her body stiffened and pinpricks of white-hot lights exploded behind her eyelids, she cried out her relief and joy. Gusts of erotic pleasure crept like spider's legs through every cell of her body, surging through her like smoldering embers. She'd never experienced such an intense climax. It was otherworldly and blissful. With one final thrust, he sank deep inside her, groaning his pleasure as he emptied his seed in her. His eyes dark and burning a deep azure blue, he whispered her name and then collapsed on top of her. She reveled in the feel of his body on hers, every ounce of his weight crushing her. His breath came in uncontrolled bursts for a brief time and then he lifted himself from her, drawing her into his arms.

  He stroked the hair at the side of her head. "Whatever world we were in, I will hunger forever to return to it time and again with ye."

  Unable to speak, she lay there in his arms, wondering what mystical place he had transported her to. It was not of this world, and not of hers. She couldn't help her tears.

  "I hurt ye?"

  "No, they are tears of joy."

  She drifted between dreams and reality and felt a new kind of warmth, one she'd never experienced before. She was in Balion's arms, serene, content and filled with bittersweet bliss. He rose and put his clothing on, plucking hers from the ground near the fire. Doing his best to cover her with the tattered pants, he put her back and studied her for the longest time.

  While her stomach heaved with morbid insight, Balion picked up his sword and turned to her. "Come little one, Umargo's army awaits."

  "No!" she wailed. "I can't lose you now."

  "What is to come has already been decreed."

  Choking back the thought, she asked, "What if you die?"

  "Then I will find ye again if I must search through all eternity."

  She placed her trembling hand in his and came to her feet, her heart heavier than a stone. They stepped into the sunlight, toward Umargo's mighty army, toward Locke Cress.

  Chapter 13

  With his hands behind his back, Jarlock was pacing before the outside gate when Kira and Balion rode in. On the highest turret stood Gwyneth, gazing down at them with the look of a buzzard, and above her flew the purple and gold standards of Locke Cress. His body tense from the moment he'd spied his betrothed, the Light-Prince slid from his mount.

  Lifting Kira from the horse, he set her on the ground next to Jarlock. "Saints curse, man. Why is it every time I see ye, ye are bleeding?" the giant asked. "I am a wee shy of poultices."

  Balion stretched his neck and studied Gwyneth. "The Pantherinae unsheathed its claws before he shifted into a man named Garrick."

  "Garrick?" Jarlock followed Balion's gaze. "How is it possible, and where is the traitor now? I will run him through with my broadsword."

  "Yonder cave, both beast and man dead."

  Jarlock's brow creased. "Garrick was the Pantherinae? Who cast a spell on the man?"

  "I know not, but I wager Gwyneth does. Bring her to the Great Hall." He turned to Kira with a loving smile. "Ask my servants to tend the lass."

  "Aye."

  When Jarlock hesitated, Balion knew another matter weighed on the man's mind. "Speak freely."

  "Umargo will surround the keep this day! His army camps on the western horizon!"

  Balion heard the screams of death riding the four winds. Umargo had returned to fight the final battle. Hadn't he always known it would happen?

  "My Prince, what are your wishes?"

  "We will ride out and meet them head on." His words held tactile determination. "What other choice is before us?"

  Jarlock smiled. "None, but there is more ye should know."

  A tired sigh left Balion's lips. "The Gods mayhap are displeased with me."

  "Nay, they have smiled on ye this day."

  "How so?"

  "Your father waits for ye."

  "He has come back." Balion sighed and looked at the clouds. "And no doubt swathed in the shiny armor of his youth?"

  Jarlock nodded. "He intends to fight beside ye."

  "Ye told him he is too brittle for battle?"

  The giant gave a slow shake of his head. "Nay, he is my King. I leave that to ye."

  "Little he will listen, but I will try."

  Aware of Kira's aversion to frequenting the central baths, Balion had ordered a tub brought to his private bedchamber. While servants hauled hot cauldrons of water, Kira hunkered down behind the balustrade on the upper level, her ears ringing louder than church bellows as conversation in the Great Room drifted skyward.

  Four people occupied the room, the Light-Prince, the King, Jarlock, and Ainsley. Seated in a chair by the hearth, the girl's slender hands were folded in her lap, her angelic face stoic. The conversation flowing around her might just as well have pertained to the current price of oats or barley. Ainsley bore an inner strength exuding poise and self-assurance, except when her furtive gaze strayed to Jarlock.

  Balion rose from the table to speak and Kira's musings about the love-struck pair faded away. "Ye will stay back; lead the army from the hill, my King."

  "Hide behind the banners of Locke Cress like a thief and watch my people die?"

  "They don't expect ye to fight now, Father."

  Fight? The word brought sheer stark terror to Kira's heart. When her knuckles screamed in pain, she realized she’d been clutching the banister. "This can't be happening." Hadn’t she said the same words a thousand times since landing in this mystical world?

  As if to kill the thought, the King's spine straightened. "Expect it or no, I am their King and I will fight."

  Softer, and with infinite tenderness, Balion asked, "And who will lead them should I fall?"

  The King's face paled. "If ye fall, my son, I fear I won't have the heart to lead them."

  Balion placed his hand on his father's shoulder. "Ye must. I am but one man, and ye have a kingdom to save."

  "If Umargo overtakes us," Roldan shook his head, "there will be no kingdom."

  "Do not think it," Balion replied. "Do not speak it."

  Changing the subject, the rascally man offered a wink. "Jarlock tells me ye have lost your heart and, your mind, to the lass with eyes the color of heather?"

  Balion drew an audible breath. "Aye, and my soul."

  "Why are ye troubled then?"

  He glanced toward the window in the room. "Ye know she is not of our kind."

  Laughter choked the King. "Ye have never been bothered by what type of woman ye bed."

  Snapping his head around, his eyes wide, he replied, "I do not wish to only bed her. I want to spend my life with her."

  Roldan's face froze. "Ye wish to take vows with the wench?"

  "Aye."

  Kira's heart sang as she banged her head into the railing, doing her best to stifle her outburst. Yes, yes, yes. Lifting her head to capture their expressions, Ainsley and Jarlock were smiling, and the King tried to regain his composure. Kira's joy was short-lived as she realized the futility of it all. She and Balion didn't have a future together, no more than any other star-crossed lovers over the years who had been caught between worlds.

  She couldn't stay, didn't want to think of not seeing her parents again, and Balion would never leave his beloved Locke Cress, yet the sense of losing him was unthinkable. From her hidden sanctuary and taking in every inch of that beautiful form, her blood quickened. She had only to recall the touch of his lips on her skin, his powerful body driving into hers, and God help her, she couldn't imagine living one single day without him.

  Jarlock swept past her and entered a room down the hall, exiting moments later with a disgruntled Gwyneth.

  The servant with robin's eggs eyes tugged her elbow again. "The water grows cold, milady."

  "A minute longer, please." Kira turned her attention to the conversation again.

  Gwyneth dipped into a curtsy and lifted her head to face them. "My King, my Prince." Her long dress in shades
of curry and ginger and trimmed in a rich lace at the end of the sleeves and the low-cut décolletage came close to see-through. Women didn't have need of bras and panties here, but if they did, Kira would place her money—if she had any—Gwyneth would choose Sex in Scarlet from page ten of the latest Victoria's Secret's catalogue. The woman oozed carnality.

  Seemingly unimpressed by her beauty, Balion eyed her. "It saddens me to be the one to tell ye Garrick is dead."

  Hiding her surprise and her grief well, the woman's face remained impassive. "How did my brother die?"

  "A Pantherinae when he passed over, he shifted back to the mortal as he drew his last breath." Balion snorted. "Ye do recall Kira was chased in the forest by the beast?"

  Something resembling fear and apprehension crossed Gwyneth's features." A spotted leopard? I thought them quite rare."

  Ainsley remained stoic, her face unreadable. The girl was her father's pride.

  "Enough of your lies!" Balion said cold-voiced. "What do ye know of Garrick and the magic cast upon him? What do ye know of everything?"

  "My Prince?" The long ebony hair about her shoulders shifted as she shook her head. "I know nothing. It stabs my heart ye think I hide secrets from ye."

  "Ye spoke Umargo's name to Kira before he returned."

  With a subtle flinch, Gwyneth held her silence. Kira drew a deep breath, aware of the thick undercurrents in the air.

  Roldan studied Gwyneth with the shrewdness of a coyote, his narrowed gaze flickering over her tall, erect form. "Tell me, woman, whose child do ye carry in your womb?"

  Wide-eyed, her mouth forming a perfect circle, Gwyneth slid her hands over her abdomen. "Sire?"

  "I have a knack for it, girl." His stern voice echoed off the walls. "I have begat too many sons and daughters not to know when a woman is with child."

  Balion's gaze flew to her stomach at the same time Kira's heart flew to her feet. Did the child belong to the Light-Prince? Under Kira's intense scrutiny, the subtle roundness of the woman's belly showed through the filmy dress. The thought of her carrying Balion's child sickened her. That it happened long before she arrived on the scene was of little consolation. Balion stared Gwyneth down, and in that tense moment, Kira knew it couldn't be his child. Her audible sigh of relief drew their gazes toward the stairs for a moment.

  "Answer your King, Gwyneth," Balion said.

  She shook her head.

  "Ye admit ye carry a bastard child in your womb?" Roldan asked.

  Long moments passed before she raised her head and nodded.

  "Whose?" Balion pressed.

  "He forced himself on me, Light-Prince." Tears came without pause. "I had no desire for him."

  Balion advanced with the gait of a lynx. "A name."

  She drew a deep breath.

  So did Kira.

  "Umargo," Gwyneth whispered.

  Certain they heard the gasp coming from her throat, Kira shrunk behind the balustrade.

  "Ye bedded down with our enemy whilst ye took shelter under my roof?" The same look of pain Kira saw in the cave crossed Balion's eyes. Twice in one day he'd discovered those closest to him had betrayed him. "And I never touched ye, vowed to keep ye pure until we wed."

  Gwyneth looked at the floor.

  "I ask ye for the truth," Roldan said. "Look into my eyes, girl."

  Her head came up, her back stiff, her eyes darker than pine pitch. A rare tower of strength as she faced off with the most revered men in Locke Cress, Kira couldn't help but admire her grit.

  Softer than a whisper, Kira had to cock an ear to hear Balion's words. "Did Umargo take ye against your will or did ye go to him with a free mind?"

  Bearing the epitome of composure, her voice controlled, she replied, "Willingly, again and again, and I will do so ten times over if he sends for me."

  Silence came to the Great Hall while Kira held her breath.

  "Then ye shall have your wish," Balion said.

  "He will kill ye, rid the land of all men, women and children in Locke Cress. When he does I will dance around the fire that burns the flesh from your bones."

  Roldan spoke in a voice befitting a great King. "Your own mother hailed from Locke Cress and your father was a great knight who died in the last battle against Umargo's armies."

  "My father died for nothing." She paused. "Umargo will crush ye tomorrow at dawn and I will rule beside him."

  "Take her to the end of the village, Jarlock," Balion said. "Let her seek shelter with this mighty coward who desires to kill innocent women and children."

  Gwyneth's gaze shifted from the King to Balion. "Even The Last Sorcerer's medallion will not save ye now, Light-Prince."

  Kira touched the locket around her neck, her mind racing. Balion needed the medallion to save the kingdom, and he had refused to take it from her. He must have known it, yet had forsaken it for one night with her. She looked at him, standing beside his father, and her heart swelled with so much love she thought it might burst.

  Kira pressed her forehead against the railing and pushed the sobs down her throat. Visions hounded her, of Balion looming over her, the shaft of an arrow embedded in his chest, his dazzling smile, his muscular body driving into hers in the throes of passion. He wasn't a brutal warrior, the lawless cutthroat she made him out to be, but rather a kind, caring man…her man, her Light-Prince. How could she leave him now in his hour of need, betray him like the others had? Yet she couldn't watch him die.

  The servant nudged her shoulder. "Milady, please."

  Every ligament and muscle crying for relief, Kira hauled herself from the floor and followed the servant with Balion's words ringing in her ears. "Remove her from my sight, Jarlock."

  * * *

  Alone with her thoughts, restlessness pulled Kira from her room that afternoon. Not one person seemed curious as she left the keep and wandered toward the fenced acres behind the massive structure—no one but her faithful shadow Simon who remained a discreet distance behind her. Guards stalked the perimeters, and not even Balion would object to her venture in broad daylight. Besides, steeped in battle preparation, she'd seen neither hide nor hair of the Light-Prince the entire morning.

  To her left, striped zebras, high-stepping unicorns, and dwarfed ponies sprinted through the meadow, oblivious to the outside world. Unicorns? Mere days ago, the creature existed only in storybooks. How she envied them their freedom, their devil-may-care attitude as they frolicked among the lush valleys and hills of sunburst yarrow and purple heather. She watched their merry antics until they disappeared over a rise and then continued her dismal sojourn.

  Following a pebbled path to a wooden gate, she pushed it open and stepped through it, allowing the beauty of the garden to steal her breath. Thick, dense hedges marked the perimeters. The gravel path led to a maze of rambling arbors and flowering vines, a virtual flotilla of deep scarlet and rich purple, reminiscent of the wisteria and clematis at home. Haunting aromas, a mixture of candied spices and rose attar, acted like a soothing balm to her troubled soul.

  She arrived at a stone bench long minutes later. Her mind teeming with hopeless ruminations about the Light-Prince, she lowered herself to the cool surface and turned her face to the sun. Her thoughts wandered to Jason. The images were hazy. In fact, she couldn't recall the color of his eyes at the moment. Everything about the man, or any other man she'd dated in her life, paled against Balion. What should she do? Even if she managed to find a way home what then? She imagined waking in her bed, her face damp with tears, starving for Balion's touch, hungering for his hot mouth on hers.

  Pebbles crunched beneath heavy footsteps. Someone had followed her after all, but not Simon. The boy stood on a nearby rise, his lean body braced against the wind as he scanned the horizon for the enemies of Locke Cress. A massive body slumped onto the bench opposite.

  She met Jarlock's gaze with indifference. "One would think Balion has better things to do than ask you to follow me."

  "Nay, lass, he did not bade me to follow ye." He poi
nted to her shadow. "The lad does a fine job of it without me."

  Taken aback, she asked, "Balion didn't send you?"

  Jarlock shook his head. "I came of my own accord, as I often do." He scanned their surroundings. "It is place of peace, is it not?"

  "Truly," she said. "A magical refuge."

  She knew he spoke the truth, Balion had not sent him. Seeking out the asylum had nothing to do with her. The man was troubled. Never one to banter words, Kira stepped into the question boldly. "Balion and Roldan do not know of the love between you and Ainsley, do they?"

  One dark eyebrow rose. "Ye've a knack for seeing into a man's soul, lass."

  "It's pointless to deny it." She picked at an imaginary piece of lint on her sleeve. "A woman sees things men do not. In my world we have a name for it."

  "Is that so? And what do your people call this second sight?"

  "Woman's intuition," she said matter-of-factly. "We are blessed with it at the moment of birth."

  "Your men folk lack this gift?"

  "Afraid so. That is, I've never known a man who has the ability to see things as they are, so don't be too hard on your prince."

  "Ach! I am in agony, have waited years for the man to confront me, ask if it be true, but he does not see it."

  "Why don't you just tell him?"

  A horrified expression transformed his face. "Nay, what if he sends her away forever? If I can gaze upon her from afar, hold the stolen moments, it will be enough to last a lifetime." He vaulted from the bench and paced. "If the king or the prince renounces the match, they will take her from me, and that," he stopped long enough to look at Kira, "I cannot live with."

  "But why would they renounce it? Balion loves you and he loves Ainsley with all his heart."

  "Ye cannot understand, lass." He resumed his brisk steps. "Ainsley has been promised to Hector since the day she entered the world, a prince from across the sea. King Roldan gave his word, knowing it would strengthen their armies and benefit all concerned."