River's Recruit (The Sanctuary Series)

by Abel, Charlotte

  As soon as they all left, Dad pulled a folded envelope out of his front pocket. “Eli said to give this to you when you woke up.”

  Eli? A cold sweat broke out across Jonathan’s brow as he pinned the envelope against his stomach with his left wrist and tore it open. Reuben was supposed to guide them through the mines and bring them to Red Cliff, not Eli.

  A note and a check fell out of the envelope when Jonathan shook it. The check was for fifty-thousand dollars; signed by Charles McKnight and made out to Eli Smith. Jonathan handed the check to Dad then unfolded the note.

  Don’t tell anyone and don’t come back. Your life was spared this time. It won’t happen again.

  Fuck that. Jonathan crushed the note in his fist. His heart monitor beeped faster until it topped out into a high-pitched alarm.

  He dropped the note in his lap and grabbed Dad’s wrist. “No more meds. I want out of here.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, son.”

  “How long have I been here?”

  “Four days.”

  “Shit!” Jonathan gripped the IV needle between his teeth, but before he could yank it out, Dad grabbed his hand and the back of his head.

  “At least let the nurse remove it so you don’t get an infection. You won’t do your mate any good if you’re dead.”

  Jonathan released the needle. “Mate?”

  “That’s what River is to you, right? Your mate?”

  “How did you know?”

  Dad sighed, but a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Do you remember the photograph you found in the basement?”

  “The one that pissed off Mom?” The one Dad claimed was of his first wife.

  Dad nodded as he pulled a laminated photo out of his wallet.

  “Holy shit. That’s Shula.” All the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

  Dad’s eyes filled with tears as a grin spread across his face. “You met her?”

  Jonathan didn’t want to break Dad’s heart and tell him the love of his life tried to murder his only living son. “Shit, shit, shit!”

  “Jonathan, please.”

  “Eli’s my brother.”

  Acknowledgements

  Acknowledgements

  So many people contributed to this process, I hesitate to thank anyone, lest I forget someone. With that disclaimer … I must thank my amazing editor and publicist, Kris Kendall at Final-edits.com. Also, Carol Burkett and my parents, Ed and Martha Rutter, for harboring this runaway writer in their homes so I could finish River’s Recruit! The value of their support, friendship and guidance is beyond measure.

  I’d also like to thank some of my early beta-readers and reviewers: Michelle Hendricks, Samantha Scribner, Shannon Dermott, Karla Caldaza, Kel Donovan-Roberts, and so many other amazing fans that have helped shaped this book. They are all worth their weight in gold.

  Blood Debt by Nancy Straight

  Excerpt from Blood Debt, by Nancy Straight (Touched Series, Book 1)

  “Why didn’t your mom tell you, I mean, before. . .” I stopped in mid-sentence when I saw Camille was still sensitive about her mother’s death. Her eyes clouded right there in front of me, and she pursed her lips together. I’d struck a chord I didn’t mean to and wanted to comfort her. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’m not always such a head case. I just miss her.” Camille was in so much pain. I tried to reason that if I only had a single parent and lost her, then was tossed into all the complexities of our society, I didn’t think I would handle it as well as she was handling it.

  In a happier voice, Camille said, “Let me try to read your mind.”

  “Uh, no. That’s okay. I keep mine blocked all the time.” Panic swept me. I was able to keep my mind blocked, but I worried about my defenses if I got too close to her. I couldn’t let her know how she’d affected me, or how much I wanted her.

  Camille laughed, “Even better, so I can practice without worry of seeing some gross guy stuff.”

  I froze, “Uh, Camille, I don’t think that’s such a great idea.” She ignored me and looked into my eyes; mine refused to look away. I blocked my thoughts with more force than I’d ever used in my life.

  She looked a little frustrated with herself, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Camille confessed, “Huh, nothing. Let me try this.” She swung her legs over the side of the deck chair so we were seated facing each other. Camille put her hands on either side of my temples; our lips were mere inches apart. I heard the splashing of the waves, a seagull echoing a warning overhead, and breeze whipping the flag at the ship’s stern. I continued blocking my thoughts, refusing to let my wall crumble.

  Camille repositioned her hands from my temples, sliding them down, cradling my face in her palms. Her gentle touch threw me off guard. In that moment I didn’t care if she read every thought in my head. My mind’s wall disintegrated in front of both of us. Her eyes widened when she saw a glimpse of my desire for her. I knew I could control my impulses no matter how strong they were to take her in my arms and hold her body to mine. I had just filled her mind with images of the two of us, where I wanted to be and what I wanted to be doing with her: walking in a tall meadow, the sun bearing down; on a snowcapped mountain, the only heat from our intertwined bodies; swimming in the crystal clear waters of the Caribbean near a deserted alcove. I savored each of these fantasies and shamelessly shared them with her, each more erotic than the previous.

  What I wasn’t expecting was her reaction to what was going through my mind. I expected her to slap me, to leap away and scream, to call me hundreds of names that I deserved – I never expected that her mouth would close the gap with mine in an instant.

  Her eyes closed, and I felt her soft lips press hard on to mine. My arms did the unthinkable and pulled her seated body off her deck chair and fully onto me. My veins, that last night felt like ice was coursing through them when I saw her, now had molten lava pumping through my body, and I had no recourse but to melt into her. Nothing else in the world mattered beyond the feel of her skin against me, the heat that generated between us, and her mouth on mine. We sat wrapped in each other for a short time before we both came to our senses and released.

  As I felt her body go tense, I sputtered out, “I’m so sorry, Camille, I didn’t mean for. . .I’m so sorry.”

  She shook her head, “I wasn’t expecting . . . the images.” I could see the turmoil on her face. “Drake,” she realized she was still wrapped around me and stood up, distancing herself from me, “we can’t.”

  With a heavy heart, threatening to slowly break in this moment, “I know.” I hung my head, unable to look into her brown eyes.

  “I mean, we can’t let that happen again, ever.”

  “I know.”

  “You’re engaged to Bianca.”

  “I know.”

  “If she ever finds out. . .”

  I looked up, purposely not making contact with her eyes, “She won’t. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  Camille took the towel off of her deck chair, wrapped herself up in it and sat down. I knew I shouldn’t, but I felt a longing for Camille. The towel could have been made of kryptonite, and it wouldn’t have diminished my hunger. She stammered, “I should apologize to you. You told me not to try . . . you know . . . to read your mind.” Her face flushed a deep crimson, and I wondered if she had been reacting to my desire or if she had a yearning of her own.

  I knelt down beside her and rested my head on her knees, “I’m an idiot. I knew I shouldn’t have come.” She didn’t make a sound, and I didn’t have the courage to look at her. “I swear I didn’t plan this.”

  I felt Camille’s fingers running through my hair. Her words were quiet, “I think we should steer clear of each other.”

  “Yeah,” I wrapped my arms around her shins, still not able to let go, “I promise, Camille, I’ll never do something like that again. I’ll take it to the grave.”

  “Is Bianca going to, you know – know?”

>   “Only if you think about it. Do you know how to block your thoughts?” She shook her head that she didn’t. Dammit! No matter how strongly I felt for Camille -I couldn’t risk my family’s blood line. Camille looked horrified; hopefully her fear of being exposed would keep us both safe. Being this close to her was wrong, I had to let her go. I forced a smile, hoping she couldn’t see through it to the emptiness I felt as I moved away from her. I said, “Just don’t think about the kiss. If your mind starts to wander, think about a movie or something.”

  “Okay - think about something else, got it. Gretchen told me only the women Centaurs could read thoughts. You can’t read my mind, right?”

  I couldn’t help but smirk at her, “Technically, you should only be able to read the thoughts I’m not protecting. You caught me a little off guard when you touched me.”

  “Obviously,” she answered.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at her. I was mortified with my actions, and I knew she shared the same guilt. I could see it. I decided to change the subject before we had any kind of relapse, “I know this is all new to you. Did you find someone you liked last night?” She gave me the strangest look, and I felt the heat rising up again within me. “I mean at Bruce’s wedding, you met a bunch of Centaur men. Any of them contenders? You seemed to have hit it off with Gus.”

  “Ha, that’s the one good thing I have to look forward to. I don’t have to choose anyone for five years.”

  Her statement surprised me, and I looked up at her, “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a really long story, but I’m not going to choose anyone until I’m twenty-seven.”

  “Your father’s okay with that?”

  “Sure, why wouldn’t he be?”

  “I’ve just never heard of a Centauride waiting so long.”

  “Good things come to those who wait.”

  I nodded. I was a lucky man to be chosen by Bianca. I’d find a way to keep Camille out of my thoughts, too. I took Camille’s hand, telling myself to savor the few more seconds I had with her before this fantasy was over and my reality kicked back in. “Let’s go find Brent and Bianca.”

  As we walked toward the doorway to go to the lower deck, a large wave rocked the boat hard and Camille fell into me. Steadying her, my arms found her one more time. When I didn’t let go, I thought she’d chastise me, but she pulled me into the wall just to the left of the double doors, so no one could see us through the glass. I didn’t release her, I couldn’t. I could feel my hands shaking. She belonged in them.

  Her eyes were wide, her voice accusatory, “Never again, right?”

  I couldn’t deny the lust I felt for her. My hands refused to release her. My body leaned into hers as I whispered, “Not after this one.” This time, it was I who closed the distance between us. I knew it was wrong. I knew if we were caught, we’d be screwed, and the shame we’d bring on our families would be unbearable, but I lost myself in Camille anyway. All the things I knew I should care about didn’t matter when she was in my arms. I told myself this would absolutely be the last time my arms were able to hold her, and I wanted to drink her in, to consume her, to cherish this memory for the rest of eternity. I didn’t hold back. In that moment, I shared every ravenous thought of her. When my eyes opened, I looked down into hers. I could see how she felt. She was torn exactly the same way I was. Our time was over. I confessed, “We always want what is exactly out of our reach.”

  Enchantment by Charlotte Abel

  Excerpt from Kindle bestseller, Enchantment, by Charlotte Abel

  As soon as everyone else was asleep, Channie crawled out from under her quilt and opened her window. A blast of cold air made her eyes water. She tried to cast a warmth spell on herself, but her new power-name was still dormant. What kind of parents destroyed a perfectly good power-name like Enchantment and replaced it with Chastity?

  Channie removed the window screen and shoved it in her closet then crawled onto the roof.

  The sound of male voices drew her attention to the park next door. She couldn’t understand what they were saying, but they sounded friendly enough. Hmm… Her new power-name, her curse, was designed with one purpose in mind, so to activate it — she needed a dirty-minded boy.

  Channie tossed her blanket back in her room then scampered down the fake, but convenient, rocks on the front of the house. She followed the crushed gravel path that led from her front yard into Heritage Park.

  The three-quarter moon peeked out from behind a cloud and revealed two masculine silhouettes. The boys were inside the pavilion, sitting on top of a picnic table. One of them was smoking a cigarette. When Channie stepped out of the shadows, he elbowed the other boy. He stopped talking and stared at her.

  She froze, unsure of how to proceed without Enchantment’s natural charm.

  A prickly sensation, like cockleburs, ran under Channie’s skin. She didn’t need magic to read the boy’s energy fields—curiosity mixed with a fair amount of lust—nothing unusual about that.

  Channie had assumed that her new power-name would repel boys, or make them repulsive to her. Instead, Chastity’s magic was attracted to their lustful energy and grew stronger as it fed off their carnal desires. Momma and Daddy must have messed up the spell when they changed her name.

  Channie coughed and fanned the air, frowning at Cigarette Boy. He tossed the nasty thing onto the ground and snuffed it out with the toe of his canvas shoe.

  The skinny, non-smoking boy leaned forward and smiled at her. “I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you new?”

  Channie licked her dry lips and nodded. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t shy. Or was she? She didn’t know who she was without Enchantment’s magic.

  Cigarette Boy ran his gaze up and down her body. The level of lust in the air doubled and flowed into Chastity’s power-well, awakening its power.

  He smirked at her. “What’s the matter, can’t you talk?”

  Channie started to take a step back, but didn’t want him to think she was easily intimidated. She straightened her spine and held her ground. “I can talk just fine. When I have something to say.”

  Cigarette Boy elbowed his friend in the ribs. “Dude, did you hear that accent?” He hugged his chest, copying Channie, and pitched his voice up high to mock her. “Aw kin tawk juz fiiiine whin ah have sumthin’ to say.”

  “Jeeze, Eric. You’re such an ass.” The skinny boy shoved Eric’s shoulder then looked at Channie and smiled. “I apologize for this idiot. He has no social skills whatsoever. That’s why we only let him out at night.”

  “It’s okay. I can handle it. But thanks.” Channie pulled a small amount of Chastity’s power to the surface and tried to send the obnoxious Eric away using persuasive magic instead of an actual spell. Nothing happened.

  She narrowed her eyes and pushed a little more magic at him. Instead of flowing out of her power-well in a gentle stream the way Enchantment’s energy would have, it shot out of her with a sudden burst of power.

  Folks rarely noticed when Channie used persuasive magic on them, and even when they did, they didn’t usually care. Enchantment’s energy was positive and soothing. Chastity’s was not.

  Eric yelped and hopped off the metal table. He looked at his friend and said, “Did you feel that?”

  “Feel what?”

  “Something shocked me. There must be a short in the wiring.”

  “What wiring? The table’s not wired.”

  “Well, something sure as hell zapped me.”

  Channie stepped into the shadows to hide her grin. This was fun. She zapped him again.

  Eric twitched and swore. “Come on! You had to feel it that time.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What the hell have you been smoking?”

  Eric suggested his friend do some inappropriate things to himself then trotted down the path towards the parking lot. Channie waited for him to drive away then took a small step towards the skinny boy on the picnic table. He watched her but didn’t say a
word. She read his energy field again and was surprised to find anxiety.

  She could try to encourage him by flirting, but that could take all night. Come-hither spells were illegal, but this boy was an Empty and didn’t know that. Besides, who was he going to tell?

  Channie held her breath and used a small amount of Chastity’s power to cast what she hoped was a weak spell.

  The boy hopped off the picnic table and closed the distance between them in two strides. He was tall — much taller than she’d thought. He was also stronger than he looked. He grabbed Channie with one hand, digging his fingers into her side then slid his other hand to the middle of her back. He pulled her close and crushed his mouth against hers — taking her completely by surprise.

  Her first instinct was to curse him and run away, but she wanted to know what Chastity’s magic would do on its own. So, she kissed him back. He tasted like spearmint and honey. Magic pulsed out of her without warning.

  The boy jerked his head up and shoved her away from his body. He pushed his hair off his forehead with both hands and gaped at her. “What the hell?”

  Tears pricked the back of Channie’s eyelids. This was not how she’d imagined her first kiss. She knew it was selfish to focus on her own disappointment when the poor boy was so obviously confused and frightened — but how could she reassure him with Chastity’s magic buzzing like a swarm of hornets?

  Channie blinked in an effort to hide her tears, but they leaked out of the corner of her eyes and slid down her cheeks.

  The boy opened his mouth as if to speak, but then slammed it shut and shook his head. He held his elbows close to his body, lifted his hands, palms up and shrugged his shoulders as he backed away from her. He leaned over, grabbed a bicycle off the ground then raced away, disappearing into the shadows.

  Other books by Kindle bestselling author, Charlotte Abel:

  Enchantment: Book One of The Channie Series