“Hmmm, yes, the Norse Valknut is three intertwined triangles. One of strength,” he winks, “One of knowledge, and one of power.” White teeth peek through his facial hair with his Cheshire smile, as though he didn’t drop a huge unknown. “You and your sister were so strong Fate decided Mya’s spirit would be of better use in the Aether. Thus, three became two and young Mya Nodens grew up here with me.”
“That’s some seriously fucked-up shit. Did my dad know? Why weren’t we told? And why does the prophecy only mention two?”
“Neither your earthly father nor mother knows of Mya’s existence. Translations of prophecy are fickle and only truly understood by the person who wrote them. Perhaps you’ll visit again and we can discuss all this over tea. For now, Mya dear,” he calls out to the cloudless sky. “I need your presence.”
“Oh yes, tea, let’s have fucking tea and oh, here’s another sister,” I mumble, shaking my head. “Haven’t saved the one I grew up with yet, but wait here’s a door prize for your effort.”
I’ve been tossed in the Instapot of coupledom with a vampire who for a hot minute I thought played me. My twin sister is the source for end of the world shenanigans orchestrated by a power hungry nutjob, Cuntfang. Half of a Norse god rushes through my veins, turning me into a bonafide Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and let’s throw in the fact that I’m not actually a twin but a triplet, who is sitting under a mythical tree talking to my would-be grandfather about sucking down Darjeeling while we chat.
I should be curled up in the corner of a padded room wearing a straitjacket, slobbering on myself while mumbling to the voices in my head, but as with all the drama over the last month or so of my life, I’m gonna roll with it. If this is a GOAT dream, so be it. I’ll have my nervous breakdown later.
A doorway of light spreads tall and wide, from within a tall woman with cascading chestnut hair appears. She’s tall like me but where Ranissa and I look like our mom, she is the spitting image of our dad. Brown hair with natural red streaks and eyes identical to Odin’s. She’s trim and lithe, seeming to float when she walks.
“Yes, Grandad?” she says, settling next to Odin, her long violet dress puddles on the ground around her butt. Her golden gaze flits over to me; she offers a slight nod and a sweet smile before looking back to Odin, then with a jerk her stare zings back to mine. “Oh, oh, oh…” Her eyes sparkle. “Hello, Nicole.”
She moves to hug me but stops pre-embrace when my scent catches in the wind. The beaming smile melts from her face as her brow furrows with her narrowing eyes. “Ewe, you’ve been venom kissed by a Berserker.” She gulps, opening her lips to breathe. Excitement lights her eyes. “Yes, I can help with this, and I’ve been reeling from Ranissa’s distress so this will help her too.” She rubs her hands together. The friction of her palms working faster and faster glowing neon purple.
Like a genie jumping into a bottle, her body glows lavender, becoming a wispy smoke. Before I ask what the hell Odin lays a hand on my chest forcing me to inhale. Mya’s essence rushes through my mouth and nose. I feel her inside, attacking the vampire venom. My blood boils, rushing to my brain as a coiling knot forms in my chest, burning a path up my throat. I hack and cough, choking on the clog until something resembling a black slimy slug flies out of my lips. Odin snaps his fingers and I land back in the middle of the melee.
Ranissa stares at me from her cage. Where once her eyes were oceanic blue, now one is glowing amber. Elon grabs my upper arms, twisting me to face him.
Oooh, he’s yummy. Mya’s voice slithers through my head.
“Your eyes, Love?” He cups my face. “And your scent is off but I don’t smell his poison in you.”
“Mya, Elon. Elon, Mya.” I feel my left eye wink, the opposite of Ranissa’s different-colored eye.
His face crumples in confusion. Mya laughs in my head.
Jesus, I’ll never be able to keep these voices in my mind straight. Ranissa, Mya, me. It’s a crazy train waiting to derail.
The air is silent around me. Sleipnir stands next to Geri and the rest hover at the tree line. The slumped mage on the ground groans as he wakes.
We’re minutes from closing the window to access the power of the Elven Moon. Elon moves to stab the mage.
“No! Sleepy said, we can’t kill him while he’s protected by the elves. We just have to distract him for five more minutes and keep him the hell away from Ranissa.”
Elves are fickle creatures, Mya says. But some of my best friends are elven. They love to hang out in the Aether. The light ones are quite lovely.
“It’s over, Yoseph. Give up now and you’ll only have to answer to the Elders,” Elon addresses the mage.
“You can’t stop me, Ford,” Yoseph spits flinging a red-hot bolt toward Ranissa’s prison. The light takes the shape of a knife. Once she bleeds the ritual goes until the last drop leaves her body.
“RANISSA!” I scream, diving for the cage. A huff of oxygen leaves my lungs when I land spread-eagle on the ground, my fingers inches from her crate.
The split second before it slips through the tiny slats and slices her skin, our eyes meet. Brown to brown, blue to blue. My perfect mirror image. Her honey-hued orb glows, reflecting deep cognac off one side of her face. A purple bubble shields her body as the magicked knife pierces the cage. Her color pulses fizzling out Yoseph’s force. With the imminent threat gone, the showy light thumps.
Ranissa flings out her hands, releasing a roar of two voices instead of one.
The cage explodes, raining down a shower of metal and sparks as the elven magic dissolves.
Ranissa staggers to her feet. When she finds her balance, she runs collapsing in my arms as she collides with my body.
I’ll take her to safety, Mya calls. I feel her power rise inside me. Between blinks, Ranissa vanishes.
Yoseph shouts, crumbling to his knees. I look up to the full moon overhead. The crackling tower of light rising from the water snaps, fizzles, and fades. Around us an army of soldiers appear, their forward march shoving my friends inward.
Steel-etched winged helmets sit atop their heads between sharp pointed ears. Harsh, hard cheekbones protrude from their faces.
On one side white formfitted leathers highlight their lean muscular bodies. Pale long hair hangs in braids down their backs, matching the washed-out color of their skin.
Along the other side a hard line of opposites stand waiting. Dressed in black with inky shining hair and shadows hugging their skin, the contrast is drastic.
My friends around me, we stand back-to-back, shoulders touching in a circle of unity with Sleipnir hovering behind. My sword rests on my shoulder, ready to strike. Strength and collective power thickens the air.
One soldier adorned in gold steps forward from each side. A terrifying teal glow shines from their eye sockets like the blinding flashlight on the back of an iPhone.
“The window for sacrifice has passed, Daughter of Odin, but the one who seeks destruction will continue to plot.”
“Why help her if you know it’s wrong?”
“We do not live in the ideology of right and wrong. To love a man weakened by a monster is wrong according to your world ethics, yes?”
I swallow around the knot in my throat, casting a side-eye to Elon. I nod.
“Yet it is fated and you would not change it. Everything is shades of gray. We will take this one. His spark will not be a problem again. Dispatch Carissa Dumain before her darkness consumes you all. You kept the souls of our lost at peace, for this we are grateful and owe to you one favor. Use it wisely, Daughter of Odin. Until then, be well.”
“Wait,” I call, laying a hand on his shoulder. Energy like I’ve never felt punches me in the stomach, sending me straight into the depths of the drink. Mom chastises my stupidity while casting a wave to carry me to shore.
Elon scoops me into his arms. “Never touch an elf without their permission.”
“Yeah, thanks. Got the memo,” I snark, flipping my wet hair out of my face.
I see them turning to collect the mage. “Hey, elf dudes.” I hobble up next to them. “No touchy.” I hold my hands up in surrender. “If you didn’t want my sister’s ability used on your dead, why didn’t you strike down Yoseph before he began?”
“Is not for us to intervene in the matters of Earth, as it wasn’t for us to save the seven realms. I am Zaos and my dark counterpart is Ayre.” He hands me a weighty silver coin with the Valknut stamped into the center. “When you are ready to collect your favor, this is how you contact us.”
The air shimmers and the sound of Yoseph’s pleading carries away on the wind as the soldiers disappear.
“Well, aren’t they full of all kinds of cryptic,” I huff.
Elon and my friends break into a fit of laughter around me.
Mom’s glowing ethereal form rises from the water. I meet her where the waves touch the shore. She traces a ghostly hand down my cheek, leaving a chilly trail behind. “I’m proud of you, Daughter. More hard days are coming. For now, rest. Come to me soon with your sister and I’ll answer your questions as best I can.”
“Great, tea with my Norse god grandad and a friendly chat with my dead mom. My life is totally normal. Yep,” I grumble.
She giggles her wind chime sound as she shimmers below the surface.
At the Razvani my friends load up. Sleepy nudges me with his nose.
My smile grows wickedly wide as I glance from him to Elon.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“I’m dead. I swear I heard him screaming from a mile away.” Ranissa hinges at the waist, holding her stomach as her body shakes with laughter. Elon is virile, strong, and I’m certain he’s the reason for the phrase tall, dark, and handsome, but he wailed like a woman riding on the back of Sleepy.
The horse took far too much pleasure out of his girly yells, pushing his hoofs to maximum speed. Who knew a man who lived through the horse and buggy era hated riding? I could’ve asked Sleepy to turn into the Ducati again, but the giant eight-legged horse and Elon’s reticence proved too enticing.
When we returned to the sanctuary, all the guest were gone and the cleanup crew was busy straightening the garden. Despite Parker and Rika’s best effort, Carissa vanished like a fart in the wind, along with many of her newborns.
Ranissa and I spent a long afternoon in the Aether with Odin and Mya. Ranissa sobbed over the loss of Mya in our physical world, but cried happy tears for her still being around. I swear the girl needs a good therapist for her roller-coaster emotions. Control of her empathy will come as will mastery of the rest of our gifts. With Mya back where she belongs, our eyes returned to their vibrant blue. One day soon Mya promises to show how to use the Aether to store my weapons.
We still need to chat with Mom. She still doesn’t know about Mya. But my gooey brain is overloaded. My comprehension is stuttering on fire bad, flower pretty. Our powwow with her will come later.
Before we return to the dorms and our regularly scheduled classes, I’m putting to use Elon’s theatre room. I’ve loaded up Hocus Pocus and assigned them to work their way through Heroes and Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
I snuggle up next to Elon while the rest of the gang spreads out through the room on the various comfy chairs. Before Max ever strikes the wheel on the Zippo to light the black flame candle, the solid sound of Elon’s heartbeat lulls me to sleep.
***
We averted the apocalypse this time, but our tiny slice of Oregon is far from safe. We have a million plus unanswered questions and so much to learn about what we’re capable of.
For now, I’m an eighteen-year-old college freshman in love with an immortal man, with a mirror image twin sister, and the blood of a Norse god in my veins.
Just an average day in the lives of the Sisters Who Slay.
Discover More from Billie Dale
The Reigh Witch Chronicles
Birthday Witch
Princess Witch
Wedded Witch
Forever Witch
Psychological Thriller
Ravyn
New Adult
Wannabe More
Say You’ll Be There
Fairytale Parody
Never After
Not So Wicked
Labors of A Hero
About the Author
Billie Dale lives in no-where middle earth. Lost in a small village in the Midwest with four kids, three animals and an amazing, word inspiring book boyfriend worthy husband.
A blogger by nature and a writer because she got tired of arguing with the voices in her head. She loves and lives the words on the page, whether writing them or reading them; her life is consumed by the worlds her head creates.
Her greatest wish is that readers will fall in love with her words as much as she loves writing them and as much as she loves reading others. She loves to create new worlds to explore and loves to write words that will take root in your soul.
Paranormal, New Adult, Romantic Comedy, Contemporary — there is not one box she fits in. She’s a rebel in the author world who writes what her head tells her even it jumps from genre to genre
Midnight Kiss by Silvana G. Sánchez
Midnight Kiss
The Companion of International Bestselling Series,
The Unnatural Brethren.
Paranormal Romance
Copyright © Silvana G. Sánchez, 2020.
Edited by Julie Cocaigne
Dedication
To my wicked sisters,
Julie and Jaclyn.
Power of three, love you always.
And to London,
For opening my eyes in so many ways.
Acknowledgements
To my husband Eric and my son David, my love and gratitude always.
Your support means everything to me.
You give meaning to every word that lands on the page.
Special thanks to my fantastic copy editor, Julie.
I’ve grown addicted to your wonderful red-inked notes!
Thank you for making my words shine.
About Midnight Kiss
There are three rules every witch should follow:
Never reveal your wicked nature to a human.
Never cast magic against your own.
And never, absolutely never, fall in love with a vampire.
I ignored them all.
Now hell’s broken loose, and the people I love are in danger.
I will fight, broom and cauldron, to save them.
Chapter One
Don't miss your opportunity to get a F*R*E*E book from Silvana when you reach the end of this collection. Watch for the Reader Magnets links!
Magic smoke swirls rose from my teacup as a smattering of rain gently tapped against the shop’s window. I had witnessed life pass by through that window, year after year, for the past decade. What went on beyond that pane of glass often appeared interesting, but could never be as wonderful as the events that unraveled within these cherished walls.
There was more than met the eye to my family’s business, Stone’s Teahouse. It was more than a quaint shop, with its Victorian Scheele’s green wallpaper, vintage furniture, and charming family heirlooms tossed around whimsically for clients to discover. Again and again, these heirlooms would vanish for days to reappear a few days later, rearranged without explanation, true magical amulets mixed with simple jeweled ornaments. Auntie Prim would laugh it off and blame it on pranksters of the spirit world, but I was certain pixie mischief was behind it.
Auntie Prim and I were witches, stemmed from a family of infamous sorceresses from centuries ago, now living a quiet existence in the City.
I leaned over the counter, hands cupping my face as I allowed the tea’s fumes to fill my lungs with their soothing aroma. Chamomile and roses, work your magic.
It privileged our store to have a charming view of the Tower of London — although not particularly inspiring, considering the numerous beheadings that had taken place on its hill on account of the Craft. We’ve come so far
, Auntie Prim used to say whenever she visited the shop, which had lately become a rare occurrence. It’s not that far, actually, I’d tease in reply. We’re one street away. She’d always wrinkle her nose and pinch my cheek, amused by my sassiness.
Auntie Prim had raised me early on. I was twelve years old when I lost both of my parents to a train derailment. We were living in the States back then. Auntie Prim was next of kin and lived in London. She was all the family I’d ever known. She took me in and welcomed me into her bachelorette life.
The grandfather clock chimed Westminster’s melody. Closing time.
I drew my attention back to the shop’s window and its view.
The Tower of London couldn’t hold my interest, though. Ransom and his new girlfriend were flirting right under my nose, literally ten steps away from me, outside the shop. I couldn’t help staring at the unbearably beautiful pair.
After dating for almost a year, Ransom had broken up with me in what had turned out to be an epic disaster date, which, if memory served right, consisted of a private dinner, him eating oysters by the sea while rivulets of mascara stained my cheeks as I sobbed miserably. That selfish bastard.
Three months had passed since Ransom had decided it was time to move on — well, he was doing the moving. Meanwhile, I remained stuck in a limbo of disbelief, self-doubt, and absolute depreciation. Losing Ransom so unexpectedly had been as traumatic to me as losing a hand or a foot. I couldn’t just move on. At least not as easily as he’d done. This was his third girlfriend in three months! What was this, a flavor of the month kind of dalliance?
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