Magic & Mayhem

by Susan Conley

  “I hope they have room service,” Mona said.

  “If not we’ll ask some imps to bring us food. We can indulge this weekend, nothing is going to happen to them.”

  Cart was right, nothing was going to happen this weekend, they were more than due for some down time.

  “Shit, I need to give a report. It’s what, noon? Yo, imp. I know you’re hanging around.” Cart stopped them halfway across the deserted parking lot. A blue green spark appeared between them. “Tell Tiffany we’re okay and to contact the Maven for more details. I’ll be in day after tomorrow with a full report. Got to do this mating thing first.”

  “Got to do this thing?” Mona, interrupted, laughing, because while it so wasn’t romantic, it was so Cart.

  “Got to, desperately want to, need to before I explode. And thanks for letting my whole crew know that. Cause you know Tiff will be opening that one in a crowd.” The imp blinked out.

  “Oh!” Mona hadn’t meant to embarrass him in front of his group. He looked at her and they both laughed so hard they bent over, out of breath. “Shit, Cart, sorry.”

  “Not like they haven’t figured it out.” He straightened and took her hand. “So, now can we go?”

  “Yes,” Mona said. “Because, you know, Cart, I got to do this thing too.”

  Epilogue

  Mona looked at the pink-wrapped bundle in her arms. Soft swirls of dark hair delightfully capped the newborn’s head. She turned her head, futilely attempting to swipe her tears with her shoulder. Cart reached out and dried them with a tissue.

  Raine’s baby had still been premature, but the extra three weeks she’d managed to hold on had made a critical difference in the child’s development. Raine had never told them, but Mona and Cart suspected the baby was Edward’s. According to the woman they’d left in the void, the child was destined to have phenomenal powers. All the more reason to make sure she was raised by someone who would keep her grounded.

  “Don’t worry, Maya,” she whispered to the sleeping baby. “We’ll take care of you.”

  There was a soft knock on the door. She looked over at Cart. They’d discussed this and both agreed it was the right track, hard as it was for Mona to let the baby go. If—when—the renegade Warder came back, Mona was a target and a child would not be safe with them.

  She nodded and Cart opened up the door.

  Averill stepped in, confusion on her face at the request for the four a.m. meeting, but smiling in delight when she saw the infant. Dressed in a hospital gown over her clothes, the fabric shushed as she walked over to Mona.

  “She’s beautiful,” Averill said. “What’s her name?”

  Mona cut her eyes to Cart, who nodded in reassurance. This was even harder to do than she’d thought it would be.

  Mona cleared her throat. “Her first name is Maya.”

  Averill looked down and cooed at the baby, who, Mona realized, had awakened and was staring up at Averill.

  “Hi, princess. You are one lucky lady, yes you are,” Averill said, keeping her voice soft but didn’t slide into to squeaky baby talk.

  Mona couldn’t go on. Cart came over and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

  “Averill,” Cart said, and the pack leader’s head shot up. “Maya’s Folk, and we need someone to take care of her.”

  She frowned and looked off, clearly running through her head who in the pack might be able to take the babe. Her pack was much smaller now. Many of the shifters the Lycoan had changed had been too far gone for Nic to call them back. And several of the men who had been turned back left rather than have a woman as a pack leader. Mona estimated the pack was half the size it had been, and mostly women. Nurturing, caring, resilient women, the strongest of whom stood before her.

  “We want you to take her,” Mona said. “She’s special. Very special.”

  Averill was weakly shaking her head.

  “Her mother was the focus of much of the attacks, including the bridge collapse.” Cart’s baldly stating the fact didn’t make it any easier to hear.

  “The mother could—” Averill waved her hand at the pink bundle.

  “She died right after giving birth.” One month and the pain still sliced through Mona. By the time Raine had reached out to her, there was nothing Mona could have done to change the outcome, but it still hurt. Made her almost wish she’d let Cart kill the woman when they could have.

  “What would I . . . How would I explain. . .” Averill’s voice drifted off.

  Mona knew then that Averill would take Maya, that she’d care for her with the determination and love she’d shown when taking over the pack.

  How would they explain? She and Cart hadn’t thought through more than convincing Averill she needed to do this.

  “I can do this,” Averill said, nodding and thinking. “My brother’s pregnant wife moved back to her family in St. Paul. I can put out that the depression she was dealing with before her child was born has gotten to the point the family wants me to care for the child. Good thing I know that’s not true because I’d hate to wish her ill, she’s been through enough.”

  Averill looked down at Maya, who blew a bubble. “I need a couple of days, though. Do I have them?”

  Cart nodded. “We can do that.”

  “Averill,” Mona said, looking down at Maya’s face and already seeing magic swirling through her even though she was far too young for any to be showing yet, then making sure she looked the other woman in the eye. “Protect her. There are people who, as her powers grow, will try to use her.”

  “You have some time, though, I think,” Cart said, squeezing Mona’s shoulder in reassurance, “before you need to worry. She’s only a month old.”

  “Just remember, Cart and I will always be an imp away any time you might need us,” Mona said. “Tania and Nic too.”

  “Me too.”

  Mona had known the Puck was there, hiding. The thought had niggled in the back of her head, waiting to be brought forth but had bloomed too late.

  Cart must have too because he hadn’t tensed up in anger like he usually did when Randall appeared.

  “Thanks, all of you,” Averill said. “I’m pretty sure once she starts showing some power I’m not going to forget who she’s got looking out for her. May I?”

  She held out her gloved hands and Mona placed Maya in her waiting arms. Averill held her like a pro.

  “Hey, princess,” Averill said. “You are going to come with me, okay? I have a big old bedroom I just painted yellow. I think you’ll like it. And the old ladies of the pack are all going to coo. It’s going to be a while before you have playmates though, not a lot of kids being born into the pack right now with there not being a lot of guys around.”

  Averill looked up and grinned at Cart and Mona. “Did Tiffany tell you of the latest contretemps? One of the few able bodied men suggested we allow polygamy for a period. The women almost hounded him out of the pack.”

  Cart frowned. “Did you send out a notice to the National Council? They’ll help.”

  “It’s on their agenda. Anything you can do to hasten it being announced would be good.”

  “If you open up the pack you’ll have a three year period to bring the pack up to minimum. If you don’t, you may have to agree to merge with another pack.”

  “I know, we’ll have to cross that bridge when we get there. Right now, we just need able bodies. Perhaps not as small as this,” Averill smiled down at Maya, “but we’ll take anyone who passes the Maven’s inspection.”

  With a sigh she handed the bundle back to Mona.

  “Two days. I’ll be back in two days. Will I see you at the falls?”

  “We’re heading there next.”

  “Good. Just don’t mention anything yet, I need to lay the ground work.” Without a look back she left the room.

  “What are you two going to do?” Randall asked as he reached up and took Maya from Mona’s arms. The baby’s arms flailed in excitement.

  “You’ve been visiting he
r, haven’t you?” Mona asked. Of course he had. With things quieter and the imps no longer in danger he had more time.

  Randall grimaced. “Been called back to Elfhaven a lot and she’s my present to myself when I get back.” He grinned down at the infant. “Yes, you are. And when you get older, I’ll take you to Elfhaven with me and they can see how strong we make them up there.”

  “I don’t think I wanted to hear that.”

  “They’re not happy that there is an Oberon here when there isn’t one there. While we’ve lost many of our ties, we’ve always had a parallel ruler.” Randall had found a bottle, or more likely conjured one, and was feeding Maya as he gently swayed.

  “They’ll get over it, or someone will step up. We’ll see. You two should get going. I can handle Maya until Averill can take her.” He did seem to have things under control.

  “You’ll not take her on any visits? You’ll keep her here?” Cart asked.

  “No, she’s too young, needs another year at least, probably two.”

  Mona didn’t know if he was teasing them or not but it didn’t matter. She and Cart did need to go, the Maven had called a convocation of all Folk in the region up at the falls and they needed to be there.

  “Thank you, Randall. And yes, I know that may mean an obligation on my part. I’ll take the chance.” She leaned down and kissed the baby’s cheek. “We’re off to get ready for the Maven’s convocation. We’ll see you there.”

  Whether he knew it or not, leaving Maya when she was in the Puck’s arms was easier then when she was asleep in her crib. The child needed more human contact, which is why they’d picked Averill, who would wrap her arms and heart around Maya.

  “You ready to see if your brother has come to his senses yet?” Cart asked as they headed down the nearly deserted hall.

  Nic had not accepted his changed role very well.

  “If you’re ready to see if Tania will come down off her high horse.”

  He laughed. “They are eminently suited to one another.”

  Mona opened the door to the cold wet air of early spring. “Funny how fate works.”

  About the Author

  Ellie lives in SW Ohio with her three kids, two dogs (one of whom thinks he’s a cat), and one cat (who thinks he’s a dog). She’s thankful her kids have no such issues. When she’s not writing she’s encouraging other writers to submit their stories and follow their dreams. Or cleaning dog hair off, well, everything.

  You can find Ellie on the web at www.EllieWrites2.com and follow her on Twitter @EllieWrites2.

  A Sneak Peek from Crimson Romance

  Lessons in Magic by Jessica Starre

  The Kindred

  Rachel James

  Avon, Massachusetts

  This edition published by

  Crimson Romance

  an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.

  10151 Carver Road, Suite 200

  Blue Ash, Ohio 45242

  www.crimsonromance.com

  Copyright © 2012 by Rachel Schneider

  ISBN 10: 1-4405-5574-5

  ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5574-9

  eISBN 10: 1-4405-5575-3

  eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5575-6

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art © 123rf.com

  This book is dedicated to Sheila, Fran, Ellie, Lois and M.J. Our friendships have stood the test of time. Romance, adventure, successes and setbacks. We’ve shared it all and we’re still here. And best of all, our story’s not over yet. There are still many more pages to turn.

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  About the Author

  A Sneak Peek from Crimson Romance

  Acknowledgments

  My heartfelt thanks go to Jennifer Lawler, Imprint Manager, Crimson Press. Her unwavering dedication to publishing the best of the best when it comes to love and romance is awe-inspiring; and thanks for all the kind words you sent my way during the course of getting this book published.

  My undying gratitude goes to Julie Sturgeon for her keen editing eye and savvy insights. She has proved that when the time is right, kindred spirits always find and connect with each other. Thanks, Julie, this book is a thousand times better because of you!

  Special thanks to the Tuesday Night Writing Workshop, especially Michael, Mary Kay, Sheila, Sherry and Bob. Your never-ending enthusiasm for this book (and my writing) has enriched my life in more ways that I can count.

  A special shout-out goes to Dan and Carole Duckworth who made theater come alive in my heart six nights a week, plus two matinees on the weekends.

  Lastly, to the detectives at the Jupiter Police Department (you know who you are), thank you for showing me for fifteen years that heroes and heroines do exist outside the printed page. Your commitment, integrity, and willingness to put your life on the line day in and day out for total strangers, is a shining example of what every hero should be.

  Chapter 1

  THURSDAY — 10 AM — ASPEN, COLORADO

  A shadow of alarm touched Janice Kelly’s face, and she stepped back from the three-legged easel, tossing her paintbrush into a jar of cloudy water. The painting before her had changed background colors again. On its own. No, she brought herself up sharply. Paintings did not change colors by themselves. She had done it. She had changed the colors. She let her gaze travel across the now bright yellow background, struggling with the uncertainty it aroused. Had her divorce from Jimmy finally sent her mind over the edge? If so, this mind-fugue was dangerous. She might hurt someone. She might hurt Sarah. Horrified, she raised a hand to her temple. Damn! If she weren’t careful, she’d work herself into a full-blown migraine.

  Unaware of the streaks of brightly colored paint she was dabbing into her flaming red hair, she rubbed the sore spot vigorously. This was no regular headache she was battling. That’s why the pills she’d taken this morning had done nothing to quiet it. No, she’d experienced this kind of pain before, and she knew what it meant. Now, more than ever, she could not put off her trip to Maine tomorrow. She had to go and not just for the debt she owed to her mentor.

  Fingers trailing down her temples, she strode back to the easel and began to pack up her paints. She needed sleep desperately — the dead-to-the-world kind. She had been on a five-state gallery tour for months, skipping meals, signing autographs and hopping trains. And now, just when she got home, she was leaving again. No wonder her face had looked pale and pinched when she woke this morning. She was so tired her nerves throbbed. “Mama, what’s a Si-Pip?”

  Janice jumped at the sound of the high-pitched voice and quickly brought her gaze from the paints to the open doorway. Her eyes lit with pleasure as she spied her daughter, Sarah, bouncing from foot to foot in the middle of the alcove.

  “Sarah, sweetie, I don’t think I know that word. Where did you hear it?”
<
br />   “From Aunt Bibi.” She bounded through the doorway and sailed onto a cushioned workbench beside Janice. Once there, she eyed the huge canvas. “Is that my Daddy, Mama?”

  Janice grinned, amused.

  “No, sweetie, I don’t know who the man is.”

  “Aunt Bibi told Uncle Roddy he’s your dream lover.”

  Janice’s grin vanished, replaced by a quick frown.

  “I’ve asked you not to spy on your aunt and uncle, Sarah, remember?”

  “Uh-huh.” She tucked her feet beneath her rump and tipped her face to Janice. “Who is he, Mama?”

  Her persistence brought Janice’s focus back to the painting, and she let her gaze sweep the dove gray breeches and matching topcoat. An absolutely gorgeous rake. And her sister was right. She was becoming enamored with the handsome figure she had painted, seemed inexplicably drawn to him.

  “Mama?”

  “He’s just a man I’ve been seeing in a dream, sweetie.”

  “He’s handsome.”

  “Yes, he is. Devilishly handsome.”

  “Is he as devilish as me?”

  The question was cheeky, and Janice chuckled, tweaking one of Sarah’s bright red curls. Sarah was an adorable poppet, no doubt about it. She took a moment to study the snow-blasted cheeks as Sarah began to riffle through her paints.

  “Aunt Bibi says you’re a Si-Pip, Mama.”

  Janice lightly smacked the prying fingers and gave a sarcastic laugh.

  “Little pitchers have big ears.”

  “What’s that mean, Mama?”

  “Nothing, sweetie. C’mere.”

  Dropping to the workbench, Janice opened her arms and wiggled her fingers. She must divert Sarah’s attention from the tubes of paint. Sarah toppled forward and sprawled across her legs eagerly. One hand flew beneath her cheek to wait patiently for an answer to her earlier question. But which question? Janice wondered. A contented sigh singed her ears, and Janice gave another bright laugh, tickling the round belly peeping between the folds of the yellow flannel jogging suit. Sarah squirmed and giggled, their hands entwining.