I shivered under his intense gaze. He’d never complimented me on anything but my flexibility and creativity in the Karma Sutra department. “I didn’t call those ghost men for me.”
“On the surface, no. Underneath your desire to help Guinevere, however, your desire to be sure you’d found your soul mate was woven into the SOS you sent out.”
Ack. Was that true? Had I inadvertently mixed up my desires with Guin’s? That certainly wouldn’t earn me a gold star with the matchmaking gods.
“Along with attracting those three ghosts,” he continued, sliding his fingertips across my cheek to push a loose strand of hair from my face, “your soul called to mine, Keisha. I felt it, here.”
He took my hand and laid it over his heart. As if I’d been shocked, my palm tingled and electricity zapped up my arm and landed in my chest.
Gabriel’s wings rippled again. “That’s why I came to see you. I heard the call, just like those ghosts. Felt the pull of your soul to mine.”
A lump formed in my throat. Magic rose around us, swelling and pulsing against my skin. “You’re my soul mate?”
“Some souls were connected before time began.”
Love, the most powerful of all magic, slid up my legs, tickled along my spine and exploded into my heart.
My soul mate had found me. Destiny was here. No more worry, no more feeling adrift and unsure about my love life.
And no need for my great-grandmother’s approval.
I slipped into Gabriel’s arms and turned my face up to his. His gaze dropped to my lips, came back up to my eyes. “Is that one of the signals?” he asked.
“Signals?”
“That you wish to be kissed.”
Ah. That signal. “Yes.”
Rather than lowering his lips to mine—which would have taken quite a bit since he was a good foot and a half taller than me—he lifted me off the floor. I wrapped my arms around his neck and laughed into his mouth as he kissed me, wings rippling this time with the same happiness coursing through my body.
Love. Everyone wants it. Not everyone finds it. Sometimes all we need is a little magic and a lot of understanding to help it along.
The End
About Misty Evans
Misty Evans writes the award-winning Super Agent series, Witches Anonymous series, and now her new Kali Sweet series. The books in her Super Agent series have won a CataNetwork Reviewers’ Choice Award in 2008, CAPA nominations in 2009, the New England Reader’s Choice Bean Pot Award for Best Romantic Suspense in 2010 and finaled in the Ancient City Heart of Excellence Readers’ Choice contest in 2011.
Misty’s SWEET DEMON novella is included in Entangled, A Paranormal Anthology, featuring stories from Jennifer Estep, Cynthia Eden, Nancy Haddock and Allison Brennan, of which all proceeds will go to the Breast Cancer Research Foundation. Her Witches Anonymous series has garnered 5-star reviews and was dubbed a Fallen Angel Reviews Recommended Read. Both the Super Agent Series and the Witches Anonymous Series have been on multiple Amazon Kindle bestsellers lists.
Misty is currently at work on the first book in her new Kali Sweet series. She likes her coffee black, her conspiracy stories juicy, and her wicked characters dressed in couture. When not reading or writing, she enjoys hanging out with her husband of twenty-two years and their twin sons. Learn more and sign up for her newsletter at www.readmistyevans.com. Like her author page on Facebook or follow her on Twitter.
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A SAMHAIN SURPRISE
by
Debora Geary
Marcus hated Halloween. Most modern witches regarded late October with a mix of humor and resignation, as pointy hats, broomsticks—and lately, Harry Potter glasses—came out in full force. They waited patiently until the year clicked into November and everyone decided witches weren’t real again.
But it wasn’t the flood of fake witches that Marcus hated. Or the sharp increase in silly people trying to do magic, or the devastation wreaked by small children hyped on sugar.
He hated that Halloween reminded him of Evan, that it made him, a forty-eight-year-old man, feel five and helpless again. Watching your twin brother float away on the astral plane and never come back was a horror no five-year-old should ever have to face. Reliving it for the next forty-three years…
That was his burden to carry. And if it made him a grumpy old man on the eve of Samhain, as the veil between the worlds thinned once again, then so be it.
This year, however, he’d decided to try something different.
Picking up his laptop, he logged into Enchanter’s Realm. Online gaming worlds had no astral planes, no veils, and no ghostly brothers. And for once, this Halloween, he really didn’t want to be alone.
Landing in the middle of the small village near his castle keep, he frowned. There were dozens of people on the streets, as he’d expected. But they were all staring up at the sky, absolutely silent except for a few stray oohs and aahs.
Marcus looked up and caught sight of the beautiful ghostlights dancing on the face of the moon—and then cursed and grabbed his rucksack. Would the idiots never learn? It hadn’t been more than a month since pink birds had flown overhead, singing and dropping candy—and half the stockpiled spells in Realm had turned into hopping frogs. The time before that, the sky had sprinkled purple glitter—and his warrior army had been found eating their swords-turned-into-carrots and wearing pink bunny slippers.
Three times and he’d learned his lesson, even if no one else had. The world was not always as it seemed, and a smart witch looked for the hidden layers. Or in this case, Warrior Girl’s latest sneak attack. He checked his rucksack, assessing the spells he had on hand. Damn it. He was well armed for trick-or-treating—but not a decent counterspell in the bunch.
Caught flatfooted again by a nine-year-old girl. She might have just unseated him as the number-three player in Realm’s witch-only levels, but darned if that meant he was going to roll over and vanish.
“Lost something?” said a voice to his right.
Marcus turned—and felt like he’d entered a time warp. Nobody had seen either of Realm’s top two players in years. “What are you doing here?”
The old, gnarled wizard cackled. “I hear the girl child has taken over. Figured it was time for her to face some real competition.”
Marcus scowled. “We put up a decent fight.”
“In my day,” The Wizard rubbed his hands gleefully, “little girls didn’t run Realm.”
“Careful.” Marcus grinned. “This little girl’s pretty feisty. She hears you talking like that, she’ll probably turn your underwear pink.”
“She can try.” The Wizard scowled, but looked oddly amused. Probably reasonable, given her real-life status as Warrior Girl’s mother.
Marcus thought quickly. Back in The Wizard’s heyday, solitary play had been the name of the game. Then they’d let in women and small girl children, and alliances had broken out like a particularly contagious virus. Marcus had resisted until fairly recently, but when the world changed, sometimes even cantankerous old men needed to evolve.
He grunted. “It’ll be easier to get things back to normal around here again if we work together.”
The Wizard grinned, a wholly unnatural act for his face. “A good idea. Too bad the girl child beat you to it.”
As Marcus gaped, smoke puffed and The Wizard evaporated. A thready voice came out of the smoke. “And you might want to check your underwear.”
Demon wings and bat dung—would the girl never stop messing with him? Marcus didn’t bother checking—no doubt his undershorts were pink. Or glittery. Or worse.
He spun around at a chuckle from the shadows. “Who goes there?”
“Your newest friend,” said a sultry voice—another that he hadn’t heard in Realm for years. Even the veil between past and present thinned tonight.
Marcus walked over to join the sexy gypsy lurking in the dark. “Esmerelda. Haven’t seen you around for a bit.”
“Not enough competition.” She shrugged. “The girl is interesting, though. Inventive. You don’t think fast enough to keep up with her.”
Marcus gritted his teeth. He’d spent four months as the last witch standing between Warrior Girl and Realm domination, and was getting very little respect for it. “You might have shown up a little sooner.”
Her low, sexy laugh grated on his last nerve. “And miss the pink bunny slippers? I don’t think so.” She raised an eyebrow. “It took you too long to reverse that spell—getting rusty in your old age?”
He resisted the urge to use up half his spell cache in a defiant display of un-rustiness. Barely. No point wasting game points. “Why are you here?”
“To ensure I stay the top player in Realm. Why else?” She leaned back against the wall. “I could use a good number two.”
She was offering an alliance? Marcus frowned, his brain fighting to catch up. Ah. “You need me. You won’t beat The Wizard and Warrior Girl working together.”
“Oh, but I will.” She wiggled her fingers. “And I brought reinforcements.”
He jumped as duplicate blonde pixies materialized in the shadows and started giggling. “Hi, Uncle Marcus.”
He frowned. Warrior Girl’s triplet sisters weren’t witches. “How’d you two get in here?” Non-witches played in separate levels, for their own safety. That wasn’t a veil. It was supposed to be a bloody brick wall. Mia and Shay were expert programmers, but they wouldn’t last long in this level without magic.
They looked particularly pleased. “Esmerelda fixed it so that we can play. One night only.”
Hecate’s hallows—that must have taken about a zillion game points.
The gypsy’s eyes twinkled. “Girls, go prepare your distraction.”
They took off running. Good thing everyone was still looking up at the moon. “What exactly are they doing?”
Esmerelda shrugged. “I’m not sure—they wouldn’t tell me. But they assured me it would get everyone’s attention.”
He preferred minions that followed his precise directions. “And then we’re going to do what, exactly?”
“There’s only one way into the top spot. We’re going to challenge The Wizard and his latest sidekick to a duel.”
Marcus was unconvinced that Warrior Girl was anyone’s sidekick, but he decided to keep that little bit of information to himself.
Then a gong rang out, resounding off the walls and keeps of Realm. Marcus spun around and ran toward the street—he knew that gong. Time warp again. The gypsy was hard on his heels. “The Hacker’s back?”
The Hacker had made Realm history twenty years ago, in the very first online version of the game, when he’d cracked the witch-only levels. He remained the only non-witch to ever breach the brick wall.
The two of them charged into the street—and into a huge cloud of smoke. That damn Wizard. Marcus coughed and dug into his rucksack. He was hopelessly unprepared for a showdown.
He looked up as the fog suddenly cleared. And joined all the other witches on the street in a moment of stunned silence.
The Wizard stood, Warrior Girl at his side, both of them looking gobsmacked. Esmerelda had taken up a fighting stance in front of Marcus, but her mouth was hanging open.
All eyes were on the team of three that stood ready for a Hallow’s Eve battle. Two blonde pixies and a geeky old librarian. The Hacker—and two of his real-life daughters.
His third daughter was thinking faster than anyone else. Warrior Girl glared at her sisters. “How’d you get here—and who’s he?”
Young people these days. They had no respect for history. Marcus stepped forward, hoping to get a better handle on the situation before all hell broke loose. “He’s The Hacker. Greatest coder ever to play this game.”
Warrior Girl sniffed. “Never heard of…” Her voice trailed off as she put two and two together. “Dad?”
He bowed. “At your service.”
Her eyes were as big as plates. “I thought you didn’t play anymore.”
“I don’t.” The Hacker’s grin was huge and seriously unnerving. “I just came to watch my apprentices take down the old farts holding onto the top two spots in Realm.”
Marcus blinked. Mia and Shay were genius coders for nine-year-olds, but they didn’t have magic. And in the witch-only levels of Realm, magic was as necessary as air. Especially if you wanted to win.
The Wizard stepped forward, eyes on The Hacker. “What are you up to?”
He grinned again. “Just leveling the playing field a bit.”
Marcus had his eyes on Warrior Girl, who had very quietly reached into her bag and pulled out a spellcube. “I don’t think so.” She glanced up at The Wizard. “Anyone gets to take him down, it’s going to be me.”
She aimed the cube at her sisters, activating the banishing spell as she fired. And gasped as her father caught it and threw it back. “What did you do to my spells?”
Shay’s grin was fierce, and as big as the sky. “Tonight, nobody here is a witch.”
Mia dropped the second hammer as witch chaos broke out. “On behalf of the non-witches of Realm, we bring the fight to you, code-to-code.” She gestured toward dozens of new faces that had suddenly appeared in the street behind her. “Tonight, we’re taking you down.”
*
It was an epic battle—the kind that Realm would talk of for years. Most witches, denied access to their usual magic, had been toppled easily, their rusty coding skills no match for the elite non-witch forces. The Hacker had stepped out of non-combatant status long enough to lock The Wizard and Esmerelda in the Eternal Tower. Warrior Girl and her sisters had locked themselves into a never-ending code loop, the product of three minds used to thinking a little too much alike.
And Marcus had been left standing as Ruler of all Realm.
He sat now, in the real-life living room of The Hacker and The Wizard, enjoying the spoils of victory.
Daniel, aka The Hacker, raised his glass in toast. “To the only witch smart enough to figure out you’d been hacked.”
Marcus snorted. “Knowing is one thing. Fixing it was a whole different cauldron of fish.” He’d won the battle for Realm by reversing the magical block The Hacker’s two minions had slid through a loophole in Realm’s admin controls. It had been perversely difficult to find.
Daniel grinned in pride. “My girls are awesome coders. All three of them.” The girls in question were wedged in the couch together, giggling.
The Wizard sat down on her husband’s lap. “You didn’t need to lock us in the tower, however. I might have to get even for that soon.”
Her brother Jamie, looking nothing like a sexy gypsy, snickered. “I’d offer to help, but I don’t think it’d do much good.” The Hacker’s coding skills were truly legendary.
Marcus sat back a moment, watching their three sets of twinkling eyes. They were enjoying themselves a little too much. And then the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. He leaned forward, speaking in tones the girls wouldn’t catch. “A Samhain surprise. You planned this.”
The Wizard batted her eyes innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”
Now he was sure. He stared at the three of them for a moment, trying to work it out.
Jamie grinned. “We might have left a tiny hole in the admin controls. And Daniel might have had his girls test the system for any vulnerabilities.”
And a couple hundred Realm players, witch and non-witch alike, had had the time of their lives because of it—and might pay a little more attention to their coding skills in future. Marcus nodded in appreciation, and then stopped as one more question struck him. “So why did you let me win?”
The Wizard nodded toward her girls. “We couldn’t very well let one of them win.”
The Hacker grinned. “You’re the only guy other than the three of us who can code well enough to beat my girls.” He paused a beat. “For today.”
Marcus raised his glass. Warning heard and heeded.
*<
br />
Later, as Marcus dropped into Realm to shuttle back to his home on the other side of the continent, he looked up at the full moon and pondered. Tonight, the veil between two worlds had thinned, and good had come of it. Perhaps there was a lesson there.
Closing his eyes, he visualized his twin’s face. And for once, felt a bit of comfort.
The End
About Debora Geary
I’m Debora Geary, happy indie author of several more books expected out in 2011, if the kids don’t spill any more water on my laptop.
Find more of Marcus, the triplets, and the magic of Realm in my top-rated A Modern Witch series. www.deborageary.com
BLACK MAGIC WICCAN
by
Toni LoTempio
A Morgan Hawkes Short-Short
This story takes place a few weeks after the events in No Rest for the Wicca
Morgan Hawkes squared her shoulders and looked at the two-story brownstone, built at the turn of the century that looked right at home in this upscale section of Central City. She glanced at the red-faced, rotund woman next to her and cocked one eyebrow.
“You said someone was murdered inside?”
The woman nodded, her already red cheeks turning a shade deeper. “Yes.” Her head shook with such force that her beehive hairdo wiggled precariously. Her fuchsia-tipped nails fiddled nervously with the ID badge pinned on her jacket, identifying her as Rene Wilson- Central City Realty. “The daughter of the current owner was raped and murdered here exactly one year ago. Cassie Marvin – perhaps you heard of the incident?”
Morgan shook her head. “Not offhand. So it happened here – and on All Hallows’ Eve, eh?” She cast a wary eye at the house. Her witchy senses tingled; she could feel the spirit energy reaching out to her. “Did they catch the perp?”
“Oh yes.” Rene nodded again. ‘He was shot as he attempted an escape out a side door. Died on the spot.”
Well, that explained the significant pull. “You mentioned strange happenings on the phone.”
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