Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set

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Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set Page 207

by Multiple Authors


  Sophia places her phone on the counter and ignores Aden’s message.

  Her phone begins to buzz, vibrating against the counter. She seizes the device. “I’ve been gone, what, two minutes?” She sends his call to voicemail then sets it back down on the counter.

  Picking up the soft-bristled brush to her left, she runs it through her hair. She grabs an elastic tie and secures it around her hair.

  Sophia’s phone buzzes again.

  She rolls her eyes because she knows he’s calling. Again. And she gets it, he’s worried. But right now, she doesn’t need a shoulder to cry on. No. She needs some space to pull herself back together.

  “What do you need?” Her voice sounds distant, almost cold even to her ears. “I’m in the bathroom.”

  He pauses then asks, “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” she says softly. “I’m fine.”

  “Logan’s back with the food.” Silence fills the space between them. “Plus, Logan and I have something we need to talk to you about.”

  “I’ll be there shortly.” She disconnects the call and pockets her phone.

  God. What now? I can’t handle any more surprises. And what could they possibly want to talk about, now? There’s nothing left to discuss about the bookstore repairs, Logan saw to that. She rubs her eyes and face. Okay, perhaps, I’m not being fair. Glancing at her reflection one last time, she turns off the light and walks out of the bathroom.

  Halfway down the stairs, a loud throaty, growl bounces off the walls. It’s primal.

  Sophia freezes in place.

  Her eyes scan the room. They come to rest on the massive, brindle-colored head of a dog.

  Logan is standing next to the giant behemoth with a sheepish grin on his face.

  Taking a deep breath, she shakes her head.

  “Come down and meet Thor,” Logan instructs the dog to sit. “He’s an English Mastiff.”

  Slowly, Sophia makes her way down the stairs. “What is he doing in the shop?”

  “That’s what we want to talk to you about.” Aden’s intense eyes hold her gaze.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” A surge of frustration mixed with anger builds at the base of her stomach. “That dog shouldn’t be in here. For God’s sake, look at him, he’s the size of a small horse. No.” She shakes her head. “Which one of you thought it would be a great idea to bring him into a bookstore of all places.”

  “Come.” Aden motions to Sophia. He’s standing perfectly still, shoulders back and his chin leveled. His voice is deep and rich.

  The tone makes Sophia’s stomach flutter. She shifts her weight on the balls of her feet.

  “Take a seat so we may talk over dinner,” Aden commands.

  Wait. Did he just address me as if I were a dog? Seriously, are they both going to ignore what I have to say, again? “Don’t talk to me like that Aden.”

  “Like what?” Aden wraps an arm around Sophia’s waist, drawing her close to his muscular frame.

  “Don’t tell me to come, because I’m not a dog.” Sophia presses her lips together, fighting to stay calm. She mad at him, but right now, all she can feel are his arms around her.

  “Are you telling me you don’t want to come later?” Aden’s voice is barely above a whisper.

  The warmth of his breath makes her shiver.

  “Well.” He grins.

  Chapter Eight

  Aden Clarkson

  “NOT ANOTHER WORD.” Sophia spins around and shoots an icy gaze his way then turns her attention to what she called the miniature horse just moments ago. “Since it seems I don’t have a choice, once again, is he, at least, housebroken?”

  “Of course, he is.” Logan pats the dog on the head. “Actually, he’s been through extensive training.”

  “I’m sure.” Sophia balls her fists up next to her sides. “Is he your pet?”

  “Yeah, kind of.” Logan nods. “He accompanies some of my men during high-level security details.”

  “Okay, guys. Why is he here?” Sophia plops down in the middle of the couch. “I’d prefer the short version of the story. You know the cliff notes.”

  Aden draws in the scent of her mounting frustration. Her fiery anger ignites a growing desire deep inside him. The passion she displays draws him to her and makes the gargouille in him stir. He’d like nothing better than to unleash that passion, that fury during sex because he’s sure it’d make for one hell of an evening.

  “We thought he might deter people from entering the building.” Logan walks up to the sofa with the monster of a dog in tow. “I’d like to leave him here if that’s okay with you.”

  She shakes her head. “Uhm...no. What am I supposed to do with Cujo? Geez. This is a bookstore. Don’t dogs like to chew on stuff?”

  The dog shakes his head, and his ears flop back and forth, slapping the sides of his head. When he stops, he paws at the air then whines in her general direction.

  Sophia narrows her eyes, watching the dog, who is gyrating back and forth. His tail is pounding against the side of the coffee table. “Plus, I’m not a dog person. It’s nothing personal, I just, well, I’m not.”

  “You’d hardly know he was here,” Logan says.

  “Somehow, I don’t believe that.” Pulling away from Aden, Sophia sits on the couch. “What about when he needs to go out?”

  “One of my men would take care of that.” Logan unhooks the lead from the dog’s collar.

  “Well, that’s convenient,” she scuffs.

  “Say hi, Thor.” Logan releases his hold on the dog.

  “Thor?” She covers her mouth to stifle a half-hearted laugh. “Why am I not surprised.”

  The animal plods up to the couch. His heavy steps drum against the hardwood floor. He sniffs Sophia’s feet. His long, pink tongue licks her polished toenails.

  “Oh, my God, Logan.” Lifting her feet off the floor, she pulls them up onto the cushion, hugging her knees to her chest “Make him stop.”

  Thor climbs partially on top of the sofa.

  Shifting her weight and body position, Sophia tries to scoot away from him. But he lays his massive head on her lap, dripping drool all over her pants. He continues to nuzzle and lick the bottom of her feet in an attempt to reach her toes.

  “Guess he’s attracted to the polish.” Logan’s laughter fills the room.

  “Really, you think?” Sophia puts her hands out in front her and tries to redirect Thor’s massive muzzle, which doesn’t provide any help. She only manages to insert her hand into his mouth. “Get him off me!”

  Thor jumps up on the cushion with her, pinning Sophia down on the couch.

  Aden leaps to his feet. He’s torn between watching the comical event unfolding on the couch and pulling Thor off her.

  “Thor.” Logan’s voice booms in the room. “Sit.” He points his index finger down at the floor.

  Thor leaps off the couch and sits. Extending his neck, he attempts to lick her toes, once again.

  “Lay down,” Logan commands.

  Thor whines then lays with his head on the floor next to the corner of the couch.

  “Trust me, he’s never done that before and—” Tension wells up on Logan’s face.

  “—Don’t.” She holds a hand up in front of her, silencing Logan. “Just don’t.”

  “He’s usually very well-behaved and social,” replies Logan.

  “What? You mean until someone takes their socks and shoes off?” Reaching down, Sophia grabs her socks out of her shoes that are beside the couch and then she slides them over her freshly dog-bathed feet.

  From the corner of the couch, Thor grunts then ushers a series of throaty whines in rapid procession.

  Aden sits. He closes his laptop then places it on the coffee table next to the take-out bags. Chinese food wafts in the air. His stomach rumbles. The smell, it didn’t hit him earlier, but it is now with full force. Then again, he didn’t have Thor, the hound from Hades, trying to sample his girlfriend’s toes for dinner. Girlfriend. The thought
has an appealing ring to it. One that he’s never cared to toy with or take into consideration before.

  Sophia rises.

  “Where are you going?” Aden asks.

  She holds her arms up in the air. “To the bathroom to wash my hands.” She crosses the floor then makes her way to the downstairs bathroom.

  Aden’s eyes follow her until she disappears from view. His inner gargouilles ears listen to the sound of the water running. When she walks out of the bathroom, she tiptoes around Thor, and his ears perk up, and he lazily paws at her feet.

  When she sits, Aden hands her a container then picks up one for himself.

  The box is warm in his hands. Lifting the top, steam rises off the food.

  Thor lifts his head. He belly crawls up to Sophia’s sock-clad feet then grunts before lying back down.

  Sophia scoots to the back of the cushion and crosses her legs on top of the couch, avoiding his cold, wet nose.

  As they eat, Logan explains the repairs done today, as well as how to access the security system from each room. Honestly, the plans he has devised for the system is thorough, but Aden wouldn’t expect anything less.

  “Did you see that?” Sophia points toward the window.

  “See what?” Aden follows her hand.

  “Someone’s out there.” Her hand shakes, rattling the box of food in her hand.

  Thor’s ears twitch, and he stands. The hair on his back stands on end. A low, throaty growl resonates from his body.

  Through the bay window, the tail lights of vehicles pass by, illuminating the early evening with an inauspicious glow. A silhouette stretches across the street.

  Aden’s skin prickles. Whoever or whatever is outside the building is using magic, black magic to scan the area.

  “Oh, God. They’re coming back.” Sophia’s voice quivers.

  The walls of the house shake and the door blows open.

  Aden ushers a throaty, primal growl that reverberates deep in his chest. He’s soon joined by both Logan and Thor.

  A woman steps across the threshold of the open doorway.

  Logan rushes forward.

  The woman moves her arm to the side and Logan slams against the wall. She turns deep violet eyes on Aden. “Don’t,” the single word rolls from her lips more like a warning than a word. “Are you harmed?” The woman locks eyes with Sophia.

  “She’s fine.” Aden steps between Sophia and woman’s line of sight. “Why are you here, dark witch?”

  “The disturbance in the air brought me.” Her voice is smooth, with a rich, velvety undertone. “I see the wards your uncle left have diminished.”

  “What the hell is she talking about?” Sophia asks.

  Walking forward, the woman’s hips move seductively, swaying back and forth. Her arms, covered with a black, lacy fabric that flows around her wrists, move with eloquence and grace. Long, thin fingers snake through the air. And her hands glow in the dim moonlight.

  Sophia rises behind Aden and places a hand on his shoulder. “Who are you?”

  Eyes as dark as night study Sophia. Shifting her weight, the dark witch takes in every movement made in the room. “Do you not remember me?” She smooths out her blue-black chin-length hair.

  “No.” Sophia shakes her head. “Why? Should I?”

  Chapter Nine

  Sophia Mahoney

  HER FACE IS FAMILIAR. Sophia has seen her before, but where?

  The woman smiles, revealing a mouth full of jagged white teeth. Her movements, silent and fluid, makes the black form-fitted skirt hugging her body swish back and forth. A pair of black boots with silver tips cover her feet.

  Sophia’s thoughts grow cloudy.

  ‘Dig deep, child. We have met before. Actually, many times before.’

  She tries to clear the fog clouding her mind.

  ‘Sophia, I know you can hear me because the wards are down.’

  Tipping her head back, the woman locks gazes with Sophia. Her dark, violet eyes bore through her. Around her neck hangs a single necklace. A pear-shaped blood ruby. It’s a sharp contrast to the black clothing she’s wearing and her fair skin tone.

  “I know you.” Thoughts of Sophia’s uncle wash through her mind. She’s the woman in black—the one Sophia was forbidden to see. But she hasn’t aged a day. How? Why?

  Memories of Sophia’s twelfth birthday flood her thoughts.

  Red, black, yellow, and white ribbons of color swirl and snake around the people at the birthday party. That was the first time Sophia had ever experienced synesthesia. When it hit her, Sophia’s uncle guided her into the parlor then urged her to lay down on the couch.

  The colors, they were floating everywhere. And the voices in her head, they were loud, too loud for comfort. Sophia begged her uncle to make them stop—to make them go away—and in time, they did.

  “You were there. I saw you,” Sophia says, barely above a whisper. “—at my birthday party.” Flashes of that day continue to flow through Sophia’s thoughts like turbulent waves crashing against the shoreline.

  ‘Even at the tender age of twelve, your powers were awakening. But your uncle chose to suppress them. Something I would have never done.’

  The room spins. Cupping her ears, Sophia cradles her head in her hands.

  “Leave her alone.” Aden’s voice has a rough, throaty growl to it. “Leave the premises. You’re not welcome here.”

  “Now that the wards are down, that’s a matter of interpretation, gargouille.” A broad, toothy grin creeps across her lips. “Step aside. I’m here for the girl. It is my right.”

  Sophia’s fingers tingle and her hands warm. “For me?” Her eyes widen. “Your right?”

  “Come. It is time to leave here.” The dark witch takes several steps forward, closing the gap between them. “We can do this the easy way if your pets stand down—or if you prefer, we can do this the hard way.” She narrows her eyes.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Sophia’s heart hammers in her chest. “Not now, not ever.” Sparks flicker across her fingertips. Raising a hand, she focuses in on the woman in front of her. An arc of light flashes, shooting from her hand.

  The woman chuckles. “You have much to learn, fledgling.” Her fingers slither through the air. “You are of my coven, and from what I see, you are your father’s daughter. So, step aside gargouilles, unless you seek to break the treaty between the light and the dark and incite a war?” She places a hand on Sophia’s shoulder. ‘Will you come with me, peacefully?’

  The warmth of her fingers makes Sophia’s skin crawl.

  ‘For you’ll need the protection of the coven more so now than ever since you’ll be coming into your gifts?’

  Staring at her, Sophia realizes her lips aren’t moving, but that she can hear her.

  “I’m waiting for your response, Strega Grigio.”

  “Who are you?” Sophia’s breath hitches in the back of her throat. “And what do you want?”

  “I’m the crimson witch.” A wicked smile dances across her lips. “But you may call me Scarlett. And you already know what I want...what your coven wants. We want you to claim the darkness.”

  Reaching out, Sophia clasps Aden’s hand, drawing him closer to her body.

  “A storm is brewing.” Black and yellow colored ribbons swirl around her. “You belong with your own kind, not among the grotesque...the gargouille.” She sniffs the air and scrunches her nose. “Uncloaked, you’re no longer hidden, which makes you vulnerable.” Pausing, she takes a step back. ‘Come with me, and we’ll protect you.’

  “Who...who exactly will protect me, and from what?” Sophia studies her closely. “And how the hell can I hear you in my head?”

  “I shall keep you safe.” She wraps a warm hand around Sophia’s wrist. “As I said, we are from the same coven, family; therefore, we’re eternally linked. The black magic that once inhabited your father now flows through your veins. It allows us to communicate, telepathically. And now, you must claim a side.” Looking up
at Aden, she hisses. “Be gone, gargouille, you are the one not welcomed here.”

  Aden’s jaws clench and the vein on the side of his forehead throbs. “I was invited, we both were, which is more than I can say for you!”

  “Is this true?” she hisses. Sparks of hatred flicker across her eyes. “Did you summon this abomination?”

  Sophia swallows the lump in her throat. There was a reason her uncle didn’t want this woman around. She doesn’t know how or why she knows this, but every fiber of her being knows it’s true and is screaming out in warning.

  “Abomination. What the hell are you talking about? Aden and Logan protected me—they saved me at the park from—”

  “—it is time for you to go,” Logan says. He takes a step forward.

  “I’ll go when I have what I came for.” Scarlett tightens her grip on Sophia’s wrist.

  “Let go.” Sophia pulls her arm free. “I’m not going anywhere with you. My uncle, he didn’t trust you, so why should I?”

  “Because sooner or later, the darkness will claim you just as it claimed your father. Even your uncle succumb before his demise. So, why put off the inevitable?” Her lips curl upward into a snarl. “Ah...don’t tell me that you’ve taken this gargouille as your familiar.”

  Black and red colors swirl, snaking around her. “Familiar,” Sophia repeats the word. “If you mean that I’ve decided to stay with Aden and Logan—over you—then yes, I’ve made my choice.”

  She shakes her head. “You stupid girl. You don’t know what you’ve done.”

  The air in the room thickens. Small sparks of electricity dance around her head. Turning on the balls of her feet, she walks out of the shop then disappears in a burst of red light.

  “Fuck. Make no mistake, she’ll be back.” Logan runs his fingers through his cropped hair.

  Aden places a hand on Sophia’s shoulder. “The crimson witch was right. It’s not safe for you to be here.” He takes her by the hand. “With the wards down, there will be others.”

  “Wait. She used that word, too. What does it mean?”

  “Ward.” The word rolls off the tip of Aden’s tongue.

 

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