Gathering Storm, BLACK SWAN 5
Gathering Storm:
(Black Swan 5)
Victoria Danann
Copyright 2013 Victoria Danann
Published by 7th House at Smashwords
Read more about this author and upcoming works at VictoriaDanann.com
Smashwords License
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Early reviews…
"This is definitely the best book of the series so far. It was a complete rollercoaster ride. Victoria Danann is the one of the best storytellers I have ever come across." - Hooked on Books
"...these books they are sexy, very exciting, but humorous moments makes them a really fun read." -Vampire Romance Books.com
"These books are like a many layered dessert. Tickling your senses, making your emotions go nuts, and keeping your heart pounding." - A Tale of Two Books
“The pace in GATHERING STORM had me moving from page to page, gobbling the words as fast as my brain could take them in.” – Fangs, Wands & Fairy Dust
Special THANK YOU'S...
Thank you to my assistants, Judy Fox and Sarah Nicole Blausey.
Thank you to Kelly Danann who gave me the confidence to publish the first book.
Thank you to Julie Roberts, world's best editor.
Thank you to my friend and bridge partner, native French speaker, Michele Murphy, for translation.
Thank you to my husband, my biggest cheerleader, who values every book sale and gets excited about every milestone.
Victoria is a big fan of the Black Swan A Team.
Anna-Marie Coomber
Anna Salamatin
Brandy Ralston
Cheryl Lewis Fennimore
Cristi Riquelme
Crystal Lehmann
Dawn Dow
Dee Bowerman
Elizabeth Quincy Nix
Ellen Sandberg
Gina Whitney
Jennifer Tracy
Joanette Fountain
JoBeth Sexton-Harris
Kim Staley Schommer
Laura E. Wolf
Laurie Johnson
Laurie Peterson
Leah Barbush
Leslie Miner
Lisa Jon Jung
Maggie Nolan
Michelle Stein
Mountain Crew
Nelta Baldwin Mathias
Pam James
Patricia Smith
Rebecca Stigers
Robyn Byrd
Rochelle Taves
Shan Harris McKinney
Shanna Rankin
Susan Blanford Westerman
Sylvia Ashford
Tabitha Schneider
Talisa Martin
Teri Zuwala
Ticia Morton Hall
Tifinie Henry
Tori Whitaker
Vicki Turner Simpson
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
PREFACE I
PREFACE II
CHAPTER_1
CHAPTER_2
CHAPTER_3
CHAPTER_4
CHAPTER_5
CHAPTER_6
CHAPTER_7
CHAPTER_8
CHAPTER_9
CHAPTER_10
CHAPTER_11
CHAPTER_12
CHAPTER_13
CHAPTER_14
CHAPTER_15
CHAPTER_16
CHAPTER_17
CHAPTER_18
CHAPTER_19
CHAPTER_20
CHAPTER_21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
EPILOGUE I
POSTSCRIPT
AFTERWORD
EPILOGUE II
PROLOGUE
This series is also a serial saga in the sense that each book begins where the previous book ended. READING IN ORDER IS STRONGLY RECOMMENDED in order to fully enjoy the rich complexities of this tapestry in book form.
There is a very old and secret society of paranormal investigators and protectors known as The Order of the Black Swan. In modern times, in a dimension similar to our own, they continue to operate, as they always have, to keep the human population safe. For centuries they have relied on a formula that outlines recruitment of certain second sons, in their early, post-pubescent youth, who match a narrow and highly specialized psychological profile. Those who agree to forego the ordinary pleasures and freedoms of adolescence receive the best education available anywhere along with the training and discipline necessary for a possible future as active operatives in the Hunters Division. In recognition of the personal sacrifice and inherent danger, The Order bestows knighthoods on those who accept.
BOOK ONE. My Familiar Stranger: Romancing the Vampire Hunters.
The elite B Team of Jefferson Unit in New York, also known as Bad Company, was devastated by the loss of one of its four members in a battle with vampire. A few days later Elora Laiken, an accidental pilgrim from another dimension, literally landed at their feet so physically damaged by the journey they weren't even sure of her species. After a lengthy recovery, they discovered that she had gained amazing speed and strength through the cross-dimension translation. She earned the trust and respect of the knights of B Team and eventually replaced the fourth member, who had been killed in the line of duty.
She was also forced to choose between three suitors: Istvan Baka, a devastatingly seductive six-hundred-year-old vampire, who worked as a consultant to neutralize an epidemic of vampire abductions, Engel Storm, the noble and stalwart leader of B Team who saved her life twice; and Rammel Hawking, the elf who persuaded her that she was destined to be his alone.
BOOK TWO. The Witch’s Dream: A Love Letter to Paranormal Romance
Ten months later everyone was gathered at Rammel's home in Derry, Ireland. B Team had been temporarily assigned to The Order's Headquarters office in Edinburgh, but they had been given leave for a week to celebrate an elftale handfasting for Ram and Elora, who were expecting.
Ram's younger sister, Aelsong, went to Edinburgh with B Team after being recruited for her exceptional psychic skills. Shortly after arriving, Kay's fiancé was abducted by a demon with a vendetta, who slipped her to a dimension out of reach. Their only hope to locate Katrina and retrieve her was Litha Brandywine, the witch tracker, who had fallen in love with Storm at first sight.
Storm was assigned to escort the witch, who slowly penetrated the ice that had formed around his heart when he lost Elora to Ram. Litha tracked the demon and took Katrina's place as hostage after learning that he, Deliverance, was her biological father. The story ended with all members of B Team happily married and retired from active duty.
BOOK THREE. A Summoner’s Tale: The Vampire’s Confessor
Istvan Baka was captured by vampire in the Edinburgh underground and reinfected with the vampire virus. His assistant, Heaven McBride, was found to be a "summoner", a person who can compel others to come to them when they play the flute. She also turned out to be the reincarnation of the young wife who was Baka's first victim as a new vampire six hundred years before.
Elora Laiken was studying a pack of wolves hoping to get puppies for her new breed of dog. While Rammel was overseeing the renovation of their new home, she and Blackie were caught in a snowstorm in the New Forest. At the same time assassins
from her world, agents of the clan who massacred her family, found her isolated in a remote location without the ability to communicate. She gave birth to her baby alone except for the company of her dog, Blackie, and the wolf pack.
Heaven was instrumental in calling vampire to her so that they could be intercepted and given the curative vaccine. Baka was found, restored, and given the opportunity for a "do over" with the wife who had waited for many lifetimes to spend just one with him.
BOOK FOUR. Moonlight: The Big Bad Wolf
Ram and Elora moved into temporary quarters at Jefferson Unit to protect mother and baby. Sol asked Storm to prepare to replace him as Jefferson Unit Sovereign so that he could retire in two years. Storm declined, but suggested twenty-year-old trainee, Glendennon Catch for the job.
Litha uncovered a shocking discovery about the vampire virus by accidentally leading five immortal host vampire back to Jefferson Unit. Deliverance struck a deal with Litha to assist Black Swan with two issues: the old vampire and an interdimensional migration of Stalkson Grey's werewolf tribe.
In the process of averting possible extinction of his tribe, the king of the Elk Mountain werewolves, Stalkson Grey, fell in love with a cult slave and abducted her with the demon's assistance. He eventually won his captive's heart and took his new mate to the New Elk Mountain werewolf colony in Lunark Dimension where the wolf people’s ancestors had settled centuries before.
Throughout this portion of the story, Litha's pregnancy developed at an alarming rate. Since there had been no previous instance of progeny with the baby's genetic heritage, no one knew what to expect. The baby arrived months ahead of schedule. The birth was dramatic and unique because Storm's and Litha's new daughter, Elora Rose, "Rosie", skipped the usual delivery with a twelve inch ride through the passes and appeared on the outside of Litha’s body.
PREFACE I
Stagsnare Dimension
Archer jerked awake when the science fiction book he was reading fell from his hand. He'd been having trouble sleeping ever since a team of twenty of the Ralengclan's finest had left on a mission to assassinate the last surviving member of the Laiwynn clan, Elora Laiken. That was three weeks ago. None had returned. All were presumed dead.
He thought about Rystrome and knew it seemed silly to use the term "innocent" when describing someone who was also an assassin, but the young soldier left that impression. He had taken the job so that he could educate his children and buy his wife a flute to replace the one that had been taken from her. Like all of them, he had stories to tell about Laiwynn ruthlessness, which meant that he also had good reasons to hate the Laiwynn.
That zealot, Rothesay, was so obsessed with making sure all Laiwynn were exterminated that the deaths incurred in pursuit of that goal were shoved into the "acceptable loss" column and forgotten. At least by him.
Since none of the twenty had returned, they didn't know any more about how to prepare for a mission than they had the first time. Nothing had been gained. Nothing had been learned. And a lot of lives had been lost.
They had speculation about what may have happened, but no facts.
Archer was the sort who dealt in facts and didn't have much patience with other modalities. Belief in gods? Until there was evidentiary proof, there was nothing to discuss. Sun coming up every day? The only thing that could be said with certainty was that "sunrise" had been happening lately in cosmic terms. Life after death? Don't be ridiculous.
PREFACE II
Dunkilly, Ireland
Glendennon Catch caught the eye of the bartender who simply pointed toward a back corner. He couldn't see what the man pointed to, but he nodded his thanks and began making his way toward the rear of the pub.
He wound through a crowd of people standing, holding glass mugs and talking loudly to be heard over the music. When he was closer to the back, a rear corner snug came into view. It was close to a window so there was enough light to see, even with the thick haze of smoke hanging in the air, that the bartender had been right in surmising that he was looking for Z Team.
There they were, the farthest thing from inconspicuous. Glen couldn't begin to guess how they had managed to be successful vampire slayers when everything about them drew attention and broadcasted vibes of this-is-your-last-chance-to-run. It was a message that floated around them like a diaphanous cloud of warning.
The four of them fit comfortably in a snug designed for eight. That was partly because of their size and partly because they had a casual way of draping arms and legs so that they took up more space than was normally allotted for a civilized person, even a large one. The posturing also communicated disdain for established notions of propriety. Glen knew instinctively that even the word "propriety" would make Black Swan's infamous misfits laugh out loud.
One of them was wearing a sleeveless shirt that had once been a denim jacket. His left arm had been transformed into a tattooed sleeve by an intricately inked mural of muted colors. Bare biceps seemed out of place in a part of the world where it was brittle-dick cold outside, but Glen supposed that if he'd made that much of an investment in ink he might want to show it off, too.
Glen's initial impression of the guy sitting next to Sleeve was that he should have the nickname, Dark, or Black. He wore black jeans, a black metal band shirt that was probably vintage, maybe collectable, and his spiky hair was so blue black it had to have been dyed that color. He was eye-catching, all that black paired with eyes so pale he could almost get away with going undercover as a vamp. He wasn't wearing eyeliner, but the contrast between his ice-color irises and those thick ebony lashes made his eyes pop in a dramatic way that probably drew interest from a lot of babes. The Black Knight. Glen smiled a little to himself, enjoying the company of his own voice in his head and his own offbeat sense of humor.
The third wore a plain gray long sleeve tee that covered his upper body, but Glen could see black ink climbing out of the neck of the guy's shirt, stopping just below his pronounced jaw line. Either tribal pattern or angel glyph. Hard to tell with just snake tails in view. He had a serious case of bed head going, maybe by design, maybe not, and one eyebrow that was raised and had been since he'd noticed Glen standing there watching them.
He said something to the others. Then the fourth, the one facing away with one long arm draped over the back of the snug, turned to look at Glen over his shoulder. That shift revealed elfin ears outlined by light brown hair with titian streaks. Same curl as Sir Hawking. Had to be Torrent Finngarick.
Somehow they looked exactly the way Glen had expected them to look. Hard. Tough. And like they belonged together. He was thinking, so they're Black Swan knights with a little bit of a nasty reputation. They put their pants on one leg at a time just like me. Right?
As internal pep talks go, it was adequate, but he just wasn't feeling it. Even so, he decided to stick with Plan A, which was taking life straight ahead, one step at a time. Glen had a reputation of his own for being easy-going, but he made an exception for passive aggressive nonsense. He didn't like it, didn't like people who habitually avoided the front door, and didn't mind letting his irritation with bullshit bubble over if it got to be too much.
Plan A it was. It meant walking straight up to them, stating his business, hoping for the best, but being prepared for the worst. That was the thought bouncing around in his mind as he observed their reactions to seeing him approach.
Once he was standing over them, he looked around the table and said, "I'm Glendennon Catch." Then he zeroed in on Torn. "Sorry for your loss, Sir Finngarick." He said "Sir" quietly enough so that only they heard him, but they got the message. Sir was a small little honorific that could also serve as code, as good as a secret handshake. "The office sent me with a message from the HR department."
They left him standing there for a minute without saying anything or changing expression. They just stared.
It was a thinly disguised intimidation strategy to get him to reveal nervousness, timidity, or some other weakness that would register as
a flaw in their eyes. As tactics went, it was almost sure to get results, but not with somebody who had inherited a dominant werewolf gene. Glen could stand there all day breathing normally without flinching or looking away, patiently waiting for them to get tired of practicing Mind Fuck 101.
Finally, the big guy with the glyphs crawling up his neck grinned, showing dimples that seemed entirely out of place against the persona he'd so carefully crafted. "So go ahead and deliver your memo, Sweet Cheeks. We're listening."
The other three chuckled softly without taking their eyes off of him. Glen laughed openly and good-naturedly, but let the sound trail off and end in a low-level growl, incongruent with the smile on his face. The growl wasn't loud enough to draw attention from the wake-goers, but it was definitely heard by Z Team. They all sat up a little straighter and took another look at the kid. He had their interest, but that was worlds away from respect.
Looking at Glyphs, he said, "My briefing didn't mention that any of you are hard of hearing. If you want to call me by a name, it's Glen."
Finngarick's blue eyes twinkled in a way that brought Sir Hawking to mind, while the other two laughed at the fact that Glyphs had been challenged by a kid who was years away from growing into his lanky, big-boned frame.
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