by Marie Hall
He pictured the tunnel—the endless expanse of swirling blue and silver, the dimensions of the box, the color—pictured the lid open, pictured him slicing through the fabric of time right in front of Mila’s hands.
Frenzy focused all of himself into that image, going into a trancelike state as he stared at the space in front of Mila’s hands, willing the box to appear, willing the shadow’s demise.
Blood trickled down his nose as his body began to convulsively jerk. To open a tear in time he had to physically do it: be there, slice his hand through the rift.
He couldn’t do that this time, but if he didn’t make it happen Mila would die. His beautiful, wild woman. Closing his eyes, he willed everything within him to do it.
With one final gasp, a giant rift tore open in a blinding flash of blue around Mila’s hands. At first his heart sank because nothing appeared, and just as his vision threatened to give out, he saw the black box.
Then the room spun and he passed out.
* * *
It took a second for her muddled brain to process what’d just happened. There’d been a blinding flash of blue, and she’d felt something hard. But unlike all the other times, when it’d been cold, this time the box was blazing hot.
A visible ripple moved through the shadow as it seemed to suddenly become aware of what Mila held.
Her strength almost gone, Mila slammed the box into the heart of darkness.
A keening cry echoed like an unholy scream all around them. A wash of blinding ivory poured like molten metal through the shadow, tearing holes into the fabric of its being.
It immediately let her go. She dropped with a loud thunk to the floor below, body trembling and coated in sweat.
Hair plastered to the sides of her neck, she could barely see, her vision was so cloudy. Nothing mattered to her now except getting to Frenzy’s side. But her legs were weak, so she dragged herself along the floor, feeling by touch along the way for his body.
The shadow had very nearly drained her.
The room shook like an earthquake was ripping through it. Wherever the white light touched the shadow burned away. It was gathering into its body, forming a tight ball as it strove to get away from the incinerating light.
Her knee bumped into something hard but soft. With a gravel-filled cry, she gathered Frenzy into her arms, resting his head on her knees as she petted his hair over and over. “Baby, baby, can you hear me? I’m all right, I’m okay,” she whispered lovingly, never wanting to let him go.
His body was nice and warm, his breathing even. Hopefully he was okay. Bending over, she peppered his face with kisses, so grateful to be alive, to be with him.
“I love you, Frenzy. No matter what, I don’t care if you still love Adrianna more. I don’t care. You’re all I want, and I’m never going to—”
“Love Adrianna more?” he groaned, finally opening a molten silver eye.
With a cry of joy, she swept in, gathering his lips to hers. Everything inside her hurt—every bone, every organ, it all throbbed. Hell, even the blood moving through her veins hurt, but he was alive and so was she, and right now, that was all that mattered.
With a low moan, he gently pulled her away. “Mila, it almost killed you. I didn’t think it would work, didn’t think I’d save you…”
A final piercing scream blasted through the room, a swirling tempest of wind exploded the windows, pinging shards of glass against their bodies.
With a hiss, he tucked Mila into his body, shielding her as best he could. Finally, there was silence. Heavy and full.
“Is it over?” she whispered.
Almost afraid to believe it, Frenzy looked around. The box was sitting on the floor. The lid was shut, but now it gleamed a bright, almost fluorescent white.
Kissing the crown of her head, he said, “I think it is.”
Not ready to let her go, but knowing she’d want to see it for herself, he helped her sit up. Her face was a mass of scratches. She should have healed quickly because of the blood she’d drunk from him not even an hour ago. But the shadow had taken so much from her. Her skin was ashen, her hair limp.
“What are those glowing things all over the floor?” she whispered, cutting off his inspection of her.
Frowning, he looked to where she pointed, and his bony hand immediately throbbed. She must have sensed it, because she glanced down at it where it rested on the crook of her elbow. There were at least ten glowing golden blobs.
“Those are the souls it had trapped within it,” he said softly.
She sucked in a sharp breath. “My…my gran and mum?”
Rubbing his brow, knowing he’d have to attend to those souls soon, he nodded. “I’m sure they’re there.”
Scooting back on her knees, she crawled over to one of the orbs and stared down at it longingly. “Which ones, Frenzy?”
Every muscle in his body ached as he slowly worked his way to his feet. Coming to rest beside her, he kneeled, resting his arms on his lap. “Do you really want to know?”
Turning to him, eyes so wide and earnest, he couldn’t refrain from tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Wanting to touch her so badly, to wrap her in his arms and hold on to her for eternity.
She nodded and locked her small hand around his wrist. “Aye.”
Smiling, because he loved her brogue, loved when he’d see the sparkle of excitement dance in her eyes, loved when she moaned and breathed his name…in short, he loved everything about this woman.
“Then come here,” he ordered, holding out his bony hand for hers.
She didn’t hesitate, simply slipped her hand into his and together they reached into the first orb.
A memory surfaced of a chubby, freckle-faced child as she danced through a field of sunflowers. A woman in a sundress stood on the curve of the hill, shading her eyes with a loving look tugging on her full, plump lips.
“Mila, you’ll ruin your dress,” the woman admonished with a smile in her words.
The beautiful little girl twirled in the field, holding her arms out to her side as she skipped back to her mother. “I love you, Mum,” the little girl whispered as she jumped into her arms and planted a big, wet kiss onto the corner of her mum’s cheek.
The woman laughed and hugged her tighter. “As I will always love you, my wild little hellion.”
The image faded, but continued to echo with the glow and warmth of so much love. Mila sobbed and Frenzy tugged her into his side.
“Does she know I’m here?” she hiccupped, peering into Frenzy’s eyes with hope shining in her own.
Patting her back, he kissed her head. “Souls know, love. They know.”
Giving him a weepy smile, she nodded. “She said good-bye, didn’t she?”
Swallowing the tears clogging his own throat, he nodded.
Running her fingers lovingly across the orb one final time, she nodded. “Take them home, Frenzy.”
Standing, bringing her up with him, he was hesitant to let her go even though he knew the danger was passed.
“Do you want to come with me?” he asked.
“I can go?”
* * *
Nuzzling the side of her face, inhaling her heady scent deep into his lungs, he poured out his heart. “Mila, I’ve never loved anyone,” he stressed, “the way I love you. I’ve never split my soul with another. We can only do that once. When a reaper finds his mate, his true mate, he is bonded to her for an eternity. You are all I want, all I’ll ever want. When the shadow showed me Adrianna, I did not stay in the vision because I loved her. I stayed because I was telling her good-bye. I let her go.”
Her tiny little sobs pierced his heart. Her nails dug into his back and it was a sharp, sizzling pain, but it also felt good. Because he was alive and so was she, and that was all he wanted.
“I love you, Frenzy. More than my own life. More than anything.”
Rubbing his knuckles along her cheekbone, he shook his head. “I wish you hadn’t traded yourself to the queen. I’m so so
rry, Mila. Fifteen years of servitude—”
“Is nothing when you have an eternity,” she finished for him, liquid amber eyes hypnotizing him. “I would do it all over again to make sure I never lose you. I’ve fought alone for so long. I’m tired. I don’t want to be alone anymore. I just want you, Frenzy.”
Heart so full it felt it might burst from his chest, he took her lips in a slow lingering kiss. When they finally came up for air, she laughed.
“I’m finally home, Frenzy. No matter where I go or who I’m with, as long as you’re there, I’m home.”
They didn’t speak again until after they’d taken the souls to their afterlife. The final soul was actually the remnants of Mila the shadow had managed to suck out before being destroyed. It’d slipped back into her body with the happy joy of a puppy greeting her master.
In the cabin they made slow, beautiful love. Their eyes speaking louder than any words about their bond and affection. Pledging themselves to each other eternally.
Later, as the moon was full in the sky and they lay entwined in one another’s arms, they talked about the night. About the death of the shadow.
“You know, the only thing that keeps bothering me,” he said, “is why it didn’t work when I tried to use it on her.”
Mila chuckled, trailing her fingers along the ridges of his abdomen. “Maybe there are some mysteries in life that’ll never be explained.”
It might have bothered him, if it mattered. But Mila was right, there were some things in life that well enough was well enough.
“I love you, woman,” he growled, rolling on top of her, letting her feel the hardness of his body once again.
Her eyes widened and her sultry laugh filled all the empty places in his soul. “I love you too, death. Forever and ever and ever…”
Epilogue
Well, we must say, sister”—Clarion turned a wide smile onto Lise—“you have done well with death. Already we feel the balance of good and evil aligning. The world is returning to what it once was. The threat of war recedes more and more each day.”
Lise nodded. “Death only needed a little nudge. That is all.”
“But I do wonder”—Clarion’s fat raven-colored curls bobbed around her oval face attractively—“why the box did not work for Frenzy. I am curious, if he is not.”
Lise shrugged. “The answer was in the wood itself. Decades ago when I gave the box to the queen, I’d sealed a drop of seer blood into the tree the box had been hewn from. In fact, I’d sealed Mila’s blood into it.”
Clarion frowned. “You traveled time, then?”
Lise merely lifted a brow, a smug little smile lacing the corners of her lips. “It was the only way to ensure the queen could not destroy the creature herself.”
Clarion’s laughter echoed through the pearlescent chamber. “Oh, sister, that was too clever. If the queen had been able to do away with her creation, then she would never have worked out a deal with the lovely vampire hybrid.”
“Exactly. She would have killed the shadow and taken Mila herself. At least like this she was forced to work out a deal, one that I could seal and ensure would never be broken. After fifteen years Mila will be free and out from under the thumb of that wretched queen, and she and her redheaded beau will live happily ever after.”
Clarion clapped her hands. Lise really was quite clever when she wanted to be.
Nodding, she turned to go.
“Wait, sister, you’ve only just arrived. Leaving already?”
“Club X will not run itself, sister dear.” And with a wink she returned back to the land she loved. Being a fate was fun, but her true calling was living among the wild and the wicked. Lise had found her home and she’d fight the devil himself to keep it, and her children, safe.
“Round two goes to me, Queenie,” she whispered into the night, laughing when an unmistakable growl of annoyance sprang from The Morrigan’s lips.
This fight was far from over, and Lise had never had so much fun…
About the Author
Marie Hall has always had a dangerous fascination for creatures that go bump in the night. And mermaids. And, of course, faeries. Trolls. Unicorns. Shapeshifters. Vampires. Scottish brogues. Kilts. Beefy arms. Ummm…bad boys! Especially the sexy ones. Which is probably why she married one.
On top of that, she’s a confirmed foodie; she nearly went to culinary school and then figured out she could save a ton of money if she just watched food shows religiously. She’s a self-proclaimed master chef, certified deep-sea dolphin trainer, finder of leprechauns’ gold at the end of the rainbow, and rumor has it she keeps the troll king locked away in her basement. All of which is untrue (except for the cooking part—she loves cooking); however, she does have an incredibly active imagination and loves to share her crazy thoughts with the world!
If you want to see what new creations she’s got up her sleeve, check out her blog:
www.MarieHallWrites.blogspot.com
See the next page for an excerpt from the first book in Marie Hall’s Eternal Lovers series
Death’s Lover
Chapter 1
Eve Philips gripped her husband’s arm tighter as they walked across the sidewalk to the mall entrance. She hadn’t felt good this morning; she’d been haunted by bad dreams all night long. Dreams of blood and violence and gore. She’d screamed herself awake, clinging to her husband with a vague unsettling feeling. But as dreams often do, the intensity of it faded until now all that was left was a lingering echo of it and an annoying headache.
It was almost Christmas, and she and her husband had a shopping date planned. She refused to wuss out now over some stupid dreams. Still, the unease of this morning lingered in the darkest corners of her mind. Usually she could just shake these things. Maybe it was just the old, burned coffee the java shack had served her this morning. Either way, she really wanted to stop stressing about it. There were too many other real things to worry about.
Like the fact that in three days her coven would be required to vote on the fate of a werewolf who’d been caught stabbing his human wife. No matter that his wife had tried to kill him first with the aid of a warlock’s spell. Humans demanded the supernatural folk—or “supers,” as they preferred to be called—governed themselves as swiftly and brutally as possible, especially when the crime involved one of their own. That was the life of a witch, especially one who chose to live in a city in as much turmoil as San Francisco. Still, there was no other place in the world she’d rather be.
By congressional act, California had granted the first and only place that the others could come out of hiding and live as they truly were. Werewolves no longer had to hide in tunnels, vampires could roam the streets freely at night, and witches could practice their craft without fear of retribution by the normals. That was ten years ago, and she’d never looked back.
Not to say that it was one big love fest. A snake could shed its skin several times in a lifetime, but that would never change its true essence. In the end a snake would always remain a snake. Just as a vampire could not help but feed, or a werewolf would go mad by light of the full moon.
Having so many volatile and sometimes dangerous groups in such close proximity practically begged for the violence to occur.
But she accepted it and moved on, because freedom was worth any price. Glancing around, she inhaled the sharp nip of the wind. It was a cloudless, gray day. The type that made her want to curl up in front of a roaring fire with a steaming cup of chamomile, cocooned against her husband’s body.
She didn’t notice the small rut in the road and stepped down hard. Muddy water splashed up her leg. A large black gob of goo landed square on her bloodred pumps.
“Damn it!”
Michael glanced down. One side of his mouth curled into a half-formed grin. She growled and picked up a dead leaf to scrape off the nasty mixture.
“I don’t even want to know what that was.” He laughed.
Eve stood and glared at her husband�
��s smiling face. Turning her nose in the air, she dropped the leaf with disgust and walked away.
“Honey.” He grabbed her hand and chuckled. “You gotta admit…it was pretty funny.”
“Ha-ha. I’m just howling with laughter.” She pointed a finger to her deadpan face. “This is me in hysterics.”
Michael hugged her and slowly she smiled, never really that mad to begin with, but loving to be a little dramatic all the same.
“Why does that only ever happen to me?”
“Because you’re just so cute, the goddess had to give you some sort of flaw.”
She nailed him with a glare and then sighed with exasperation when he refused to look at her. Michael refused to be ruffled today.
The mall was appropriately decorated: a large Christmas tree sat guard to the entrance, festive lights hung swag from one light post to the next, and there was, of course, the melee of people shoving against her at a constant, repetitive pace with barely an apology to be gained. She sighed. To say she had a love-hate relationship with the holidays was putting it mildly.
But Michael had been acting secretive all day, alluding to some great gift she’d find under the tree come Yule. In truth, her husband’s enthusiasm for life was contagious. She wouldn’t miss the annual last-minute shopping for the world, though she’d never tell him that.
“Michael,” she grumbled, “let’s go home. It’s freezing. My feet hurt, and…” She paused, trying to think of the next excuse to come up with.
He only smiled as expected. “Love you, shrew.”
She rolled her eyes, trying desperately not to snort with laughter.
Then, as if the weather felt some need to remind her just how cold it was—and that she had no freaking business being out in the first place—she was blasted with a sweep of frigid air up her trench coat.
She shivered. “Stupid weatherman. I should hex his ass. He said temperatures of sixty.”