Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set

by Multiple Authors

  Exhaling a shaky breath, she moans.

  The tension in Aden’s body continues to build. He can feel the transference of magic flowing through their bodies.

  “Oh, my God, I didn’t know it would feel like this. Oh God, please, don’t stop.”

  Aden continues to suckle, holding her thighs securely in place. Her frame quivers then shudders under him in sweet release. A surge of magic flows from her body to his, and Sophia whimpers.

  “Did I hurt you when I extracted the magic from your body?” He cups her face, peering into her eyes, searching her face for answers.

  “No.” She shakes her head. “Actually, you can do that again.”

  “Oh, I plan on it.” Aden tilts her head back, kissing the nook of her neck. “And many other things, too.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Sophia Mahoney

  A WEEK. Seven days. That’s how long it’s been since Sophia has been home. Standing in front of the open door, she hesitates. A flood of emotions washes through her. She’s happy, sad, and apprehensive all at the same time.

  Her eyes follow Aden. He steps into the dark parlor then moves out of sight. She’s frozen, unable to take a step. Memories of Monte and the older Italian man come to mind. And no matter what she does, she can’t shake the sensation that she’s being watched.

  Aden, with the help of Felix, had new wards set up for her protection. But now that the different clans know who she is, the wards seem to be a false sense of security. One she doesn’t want to rely on.

  Footsteps sound behind her. Glancing over her shoulder in the early evening light, she comes eye to eye with Logan, who has Thor on a leash next to him.

  “Why are you standing in the entry, alone?” He walks up next to her.

  “Uhm...Aden just went inside.” Sophia steps across the threshold and is followed by Logan and Thor.

  “Hey. I need to pick up a couple of things for the security system that was just installed.” He motions for Thor to sit. “These are the codes to the alarm.” Logan places a folded paper in the palm of her hand. “Let Aden know I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” He hands her the leash then walks out and shuts the door.

  Crap. He’s leaving the beast. Engaging the deadbolt on the door, Sophia shakes her head. Focusing her attention on the wall and the codes on the paper, she keys in the new security code and engages the alarm. When she turns around, Thor is standing right in front of her.

  “Yeah, okay then.” She places a hand out in front of her to stop his four-legged approach. “That’s a good dog. Now, lie down.”

  Thor sits then cocks his head to the side. He peers up at Sophia with lofty brown eyes. His ears perk up, and he grunts, softly.

  “I said lie down, not sit.” Okay, so he might be a little cute.

  Circling around him, she unhooks the leash then heads toward the couch. But Aden is nowhere to be seen. Great, where did he go? She scrunches her nose. There’s an odor in the room, but she can’t place it.

  Thor sticks his nose into a wicker-lined wastebasket. Shoving him out of the way, she grabs hold of the liner—and the source of the pungent smell. Tying the flaps together, Sophia picks up the bag, which is full of discarded fast food, and makes her way into the stock room with Thor hot on her heels.

  The back door is locked. Sophia disengages the alarm then unlocks the door. A shiver runs up her spine. What if someone is waiting out there? God, get a grip. I can’t run from every shadow or bump in the night.

  Stepping outside, warm air fills her lungs.

  Thor brushes past her, almost knocking her over. Sneezing a few times, he shakes his head, then begins to inspect the recycling bins and dumpster next to the building. A loud crunching sound resonates.

  Fuck. He’s chewing on something inside one of the plastic crates. What the hell is he trying to eat now? Geez, he’s like a goat. He’ll chew on anything.

  A door slams and Sophia jumps.

  Thor’s head whips around. He voices a low, throaty growl.

  Sophia’s heart pounds in her chest. Movement catches the corner of her eye, and she takes several steps back.

  “Did I scare you, dearie?” A woman in a white flowery housecoat, with a southern drawl, rounds the corner. She’s carrying a bag of trash in her hands.

  Thor continues to growl. He positions himself between Sophia and the woman.

  Sophia pats him on the head. “Down, Thor,” she whispers under her breath.

  The woman looks at Sophia with wide eyes. “I see you have your protector. A girl can’t be too careful these days. My name’s Betty Simpson.” She smiles. “I live in the adjacent building. Well, for the next few days that is until I move. My husband and I just sold it. We closed on the paperwork a few weeks ago. You know, your uncle, God rest his soul, was a good man. He must have turned down twenty offers or more on this place.”

  “Someone was trying to purchase the building?”

  “Oh my, I guess he didn’t tell you. Some men have been making rounds in the area on a regular basis. But you uncle said he wouldn’t sell because it was his home...yours and his.”

  “So, have many people in the area sold?—and if so, to whom?”

  “Lots of people have opted to sell, dearie.” Betty’s eyebrows shoot up. “Some company has been buying shops and buildings all up and down the street over the last six to twelve months. And they’re paying a good penny.”

  “What do they want with the properties? Did they tell you?”

  “Can’t say for sure, but I think it’s for some revitalization project. When that last offer came across our laps, we had to take it because it was too good to pass up. Lord knows that my husband, Bert and I aren’t getting any younger. So, we figured we could sell now and travel a little before sprouting roots somewhere else.”

  “What are you doing outside alone?” Aden’s voice booms behind her.

  Sophia spins around on the balls of her feet. “I’m not alone. I’m talking to the neighbor, Betty Simpson.”

  “You know what I meant.” His voice contains a low, throaty gruff to it.

  “Oh. She’s not alone. She has that big brute of an animal with her.” Betty chuckles and points at Thor. “Ain’t no one gonna mess with her.” Her eyes give Aden the once over. “Is this your man, dearie?”

  “Yes. I am.” Aden responds to Mrs. Simpson’s question.

  He places a hand on Sophia’s shoulder then draws her close to his rigid frame. The contact makes Thor growl.

  Sophia looks down at the dog and grins.

  “Well. I better be getting back. Don’t want Bert to worry none about me. You kids have a nice night.”

  “You too, Betty,” Sophia replies with a wave. She listens for the door to shut then turns to face Aden. “So, now you’re identifying yourself as my man?”

  “I asked you a question.” Aden’s face is stoic. He’s not happy. “What the hell are you doing out here alone in the dark?”

  “Well, for your information...” She steps out of his reach. “I’m not a prisoner. And the way I see it, I’m not alone. Thor is with me. Isn’t that why you and Logan wanted him here?”

  “Stop skirting the question. You know damn well it’s not safe for you to be out here alone. You could’ve asked me to take the trash out.” He takes the bag from her hand and tosses it into the dumpster. “What would you’ve done if someone had been waiting for you?”

  “Thor is with me. Plus, you were just inside the building.”

  “I wouldn’t have heard you from where I was located.” Aden clenches his jaws. “The only reason I came outside is because I received notification the back door was opened.”

  “Wait. What do you mean you received notification?”

  “The minute the alarm was deactivated, and the door opened, an active alert was sent to Logan and me.”

  “Oh, my God, so now, you’re both spying on me with your phones?”

  “Don’t twist my words around. I never said we were spying on you.”

&nb
sp; “Then what do you call it because it sure as hell looks like spying?”

  “It’s protection. Have you forgotten what happened in the park, as well as here at the bookstore?”

  “No.” She glares up at him. “I’ve not forgotten.”

  Aden takes a step forward. The hair on Thor’s hunches and back stand on end and he growls.

  “Sit, Thor,” Aden commands in an icy tone.

  The dog holds his ground standing between Aden and me.

  Reaching out, Sophia pats his head. “Down boy.” He opens his massive mouth and slobbers all over her hand. “That’s a good dog.” She glares up at Aden. “Thor, go inside.”

  The dog trots off toward the door. Once inside, he looks back and whines. He’s waiting for her, tail wagging. The movement makes his whole body gyrate back and forth.

  Aden peers down at her.

  “Wow. I think I might be a dog person after all.” Sophia brushes past Aden. “At least, Thor’s friendly and loyal. Oh yeah, and he listens to me.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Aden Clarkson

  ADEN WRAPS AN ARM around Sophia’s waist, drawing her to his body. He shoves the door shut, leaving Thor in the storeroom, whining and scratching. He could have called upon his inner gargouille to subdue the dog, but this way allows him to completely focus on the matter at hand, Sophia.

  He presses her body against the cool, hard surface of the door. The warmth of her breath blows, lightly on the skin of his neck and chest. Inhaling, he breathes in her scent, which is a mixture of anger and growing arousal.

  Having her this close is distracting. It makes it hard to focus, which is a sensation he’s not used to encountering. “I get that you’re mad.” Aden’s tone is even and controlled. “But it was never my intention to anger you. I just wanted to ensure your safety because I like you, a lot. This is new territory for me. I’ve never wanted more than a casual sex partner before. But with you, I want more. I’m not sure exactly what that means, but I sure as hell want to find out.”

  “Aden. We just met. I’m not even sure how I feel,” she stutters. “I mean I like you—a lot—but I have another year of school left.”

  “I can always find a condo to rent for the year where you’re attending school.”

  “You have a business to run.”

  “I can work remotely from any location around the world.”

  “You don’t understand; I can’t afford to complicate my life any further than it already is. For God’s sake, this is a lot to take in.” She cradles her head in her hands. “I just buried my uncle. And a gargoyle clan trying to kill me for a book that I know nothing about. You and Logan are making decisions without my consent. And well, let’s not forget that I just found out I might be a witch. Oh yeah, and you and Logan are gargoyles, too—just not from the same clan who now wants me dead.”

  “Make no mistake, you are a white witch. And no matter how far you go, you can’t run away from destiny. Plus, I don’t want to complicate your life, but I do want to be part of it.” Aden nuzzles her neck.

  “Oh. My. God! Please, can you back up and give me room to breathe? I can’t think straight with you up in my face.”

  “Really, why is that?”

  “I don’t know. Could be any number of things.” She pushes against his chest. “Maybe because all I can smell is your cologne and aftershave, which is nice, but it’s...”

  The corners of his lips turn slightly upward. “So, you like the way I smell? What else do you like?” He grinds his hips against her body, presses his erection into her abdomen.

  “You’re not playing fair, and you know it.”

  “I’m sure you know what they say in the literary world.” He grins. “All’s fair in love and war.”

  Aden lowers his head, claiming her mouth. Her lips are warm and soft. Gently, he nibbles on her upper lip. A strong, driving need to possess her, claim her washes over him. When he takes hold of her lower, she cries out and her body tenses. He draws back, appraising her with keen eyes. The tips of his fingers brush against her full lower lip. Most of the swelling has gone down, but the area is still discolored.

  “I’m sorry.” Aden cups her chin then peers into her eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He draws in a deep, calming breath. The thought of hurting her doesn’t settle well. “I’ll be careful the next time I kiss you. I hope you know that I’d never hurt you intentionally. I only want to protect you.”

  Cupping her chin, he tilts her head back. His lips tenderly caress the nook of her neck. He leaves a hot trail across her flesh. His hand slides under her blouse. He takes an erect nipple between his thumb and index finger.

  Arching her back, Sophia presses her breast closer to his hand.

  “God, Sophia,” Aden whispers. His voice is thick and desire-ridden. “I want to taste you and feel you quiver under my touch.”

  “Are you kids still out here?” Betty Simpson’s voice carries through the air.

  Sophia’s eyes fly open. A tiny squeak escapes her lips.

  Aden chuckles. “Yes, Mrs. Simpson. We were just examining the foundation. But we’re going in now. Have a nice evening.”

  “You kids have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, now, you hear?” Mrs. Simpson says with a hearty chortle.

  “We should go in because I don’t think Mrs. Simpson is ready to witness what I’m about to do to your body.”

  Aden opens the door and Thor trots out.

  “Come on boy.” Sophia holds her hand out, motioning to him.

  Thor follows her inside. The dog wedges himself between Aden and Sophia, which makes her laugh.

  Aden locks the door and sets the alarm. He sighs then retrieves his cell from his front pocket. His eyes skim the screen. “I’m sorry, Sophia. I have to take this call.”

  “But it’s late.”

  “Here it is, but half way around the world, it’s daytime.” He kisses her lips, softly then saunters out of the room.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sophia Mahoney

  EXHALING A HEAVY BREATH, Sophia peers down at Thor. “Looks as if it’s just you and me.”

  He nuzzles her hand, and she pats him on the head. Kneeling on the floor, she hugs him then scratch under his chin. “Okay. This isn’t so bad.”

  Thor plops down and rolls over.

  Sitting on the floor, Sophia rubs his belly. “Life would be so much simpler if I were as carefree as you buddy. Not a care or worry in the world.” Yep. Right now, I wouldn’t mind trading places with you. The thought of having a gargoyle clan after her, because they think she has a book they want, is unsettling. What was my uncle into? Hell, for that matter, how does my family even come into play in the grander scheme of things?

  Monte called her the nascosto, the hidden one. What does that even mean really? He said he had a master, Meurjôn. Is he a gargoyle too? Aden said something about a master, too. Master Felix. How does all this work—between clans that is? They’ve all said she’s the white witch. Does that mean she’s of the light? What about Logan and Aden? Are they on her side—or are there more than two sides?

  The hallway leading to the restoration room is narrow. It snakes around, opening up to an industrial-aged space that houses her uncle’s workbench. Standing in front of it, her fingers curl around the curved brass claw handle. Pulling open the drawer, she slides her hands inside the shallow compartment. The fingertips of her left hand brush against a smooth, soft surface then something cold and solid.

  It’s hard to believe it’s been a little over a week and a half since she first came in contact with Aden and Logan. They’re like unrelenting shadows that can’t be shaken loose. That’s good in some ways but bad in others because it makes it hard to find a bit of solace...a sanctuary. A place where she can be alone with her thoughts.

  Extracting her uncle’s rolled up leather pouch of tools, Sophia sets it down on top of the table. Wrapping her fingers around the brass handle, again, she pulls the drawer out as far as it will go. Soph
ia tries to look inside but can’t see because it’s too dark. Blindly, she slides her right hand deep into the drawer. Feeling around, she locates the object, once more. She wraps her fingers around it then extracts it from the drawer.

  Her mouth drops open. And the blood drains from her face. What the hell is a gun doing in my uncle’s workbench? She inspects the firearm. It’s heavier than she thought it would be. The handle is black with a sturdy finger grip. Sophia wraps her hand around the panel then rotate the cylinder. Oh, my God, the revolver is loaded with six bullets. A shiver runs up her spine, and she exhales a ragged breath.

  Thor plods up to her. He raises his nose to sniff the gun barrel.

  “Down, Thor.” Sophia pushes his muzzle to the side.

  He groans then lies down at her feet.

  She slides the safety off, which exposes a single red-colored dot. Shaking her head, she slips the safety back on then gingerly sets the gun back inside of the drawer. Gripping the edge of the workbench, her hands tremble.

  God, Uncle Hugo, why would you hide a gun in here? What were you scared of?

  Closing the drawer, her eyes water because she’s sure she knows what he was afraid of. That, and she’s positive the Doccioner clan had something to do with why he was frightened. She’s sure they had something to do with his death; she just can’t prove it, at least, not yet.

  Hugo always told her that guns were a weak man’s temptation; a one-way ticket down the wayward path of evil. So why did he have it? Hell, did he even know how to handle it, shoot it?

  Thor belly crawls closer to her feet then groans. Sophia looks down into his lofty copper-colored eyes.

  “I’m just as confused as you are Thor. But I’m in no position, physically or mentally, to seek out answers tonight.”

  Redirecting her gaze, Sophia stares at the leather pouch of tools. She unties the straps and slowly unrolls the carry tote. Her fingers wrap around the fluted, wooden end of the awl. The Magic Rub Eraser logo she used to love as a kid is almost rubbed off. Slowly, she brushes her fingertips over the one-inch round glue brush, relishing the memories from her past. She spins the metal tracing wheel, that’s wedged tightly into a section of the pouch, with her thumb. And the circular top section spins around. Uncle Hugo used to laugh and tell her that it wasn’t just for clothing seamstresses. She vividly recalls him, wheel in hand, marking the sections of a book he was going to stitch. He held the tool with such care and precision. The man took pride in his work, from every stitch to every page he painstakingly restored. He had cherished the tales of the past because within their pages, the history of man had been recorded.