by Vivi Anna
The League of Illusion: Prophecy
By Vivi Anna
Book two in the League of Illusion
London, 1851
With his brother Sebastian missing, illusionist Rhys Davenport is running out of time and leads. He knows only that Sebastian disappeared into Stonehenge and that an incomplete map is the key to finding him. And that the missing piece is in the possession of the unnervingly attractive psychic Corina Stratton.
Corina has no intention of giving her part of the map to the haughty Rhys Davenport. In fact, she needs to steal his half so she can heal her mother’s malevolent spirit. She heads to London, only to be chased by a revengeful sorcerer right into Rhys’s arms. Although touched by Rhys’s plight, she agrees to go on his crazy quest only to get an opportunity to take what she came for.
With an airship full of fanatic elves after them, Rhys and Corina are forced into close quarters as they search for a portal. But to open it in time to find Sebastian, they must reconcile their differences and their growing feelings, or he’ll be lost to them forever…
38,000 words
Dear Reader,
It’s a known truth among the people who have to nag me to meet the deadline on these letters that I get writer’s block when I sit down to write them. I’m always excited to tell you about what’s in store for the month, but I often get stuck figuring out how to start it off. So these letters are always late (sorry, people in production!). I had particularly bad writer’s block this month, so I was especially impressed when I realized that this March, all of the authors with books releasing at Carina Press have written multiple books, and many of them have long careers in writing. How do these authors do it, writing multiple books a year, for years, creating new worlds, new characters and unique stories? It’s amazing to me, even after ten years in this industry, that there are people with this gift. And I’ll admit it, I’m a little jealous they have that gift. But I’m thrilled to introduce you to the books releasing this month from these incredible authors.
I know it’s a little past Valentine’s Day, but it’s always time for chocolate and romance, and Christi Barth brings us both in A Fine Romance, the second contemporary romance in her Aisle Bound series. And if you missed the first book, Planning for Love, make sure to grab that as well!
We have six! other authors joining Christi with sequels. Lynda Aicher heats up the pages with an emotionally gripping, smokin’ hot BDSM romance, Bonds of Need. Dee Carney also offers up lust and love in one package in her erotic paranormal romance sequel, Hunger Awakened.
Veteran author Vivi Anna brings us The League of Illusion: Prophecy, a steampunk romance with an illusionist, a hunt for a missing brother, an incomplete map and a psychic! Relative newcomer Nicole Luiken follows up her debut fantasy romance, Gate to Kandrith, with the second in this duology and the conclusion to the story, Soul of Kandrith.
R.L. Naquin offers the sequel to Monster in My Closet, her debut novel. In Pooka in My Pantry, empath Zoey Donovan is marked for pickup by Death. But when she refuses to die on schedule, she has a to-die-for reaper to deal with. And watch the battle of wills between a female gunship pilot and a combat controller hero in romantic suspense Tactical Strike by Kaylea Cross. Kaylea’s first book in this series, Deadly Descent, remains one of Carina Press readers’ favorite romantic suspenses!
Alyssa Everett follows up her debut offering, Ruined by Rumor, with a new historical romance, though it’s not a sequel. In Lord of Secrets, he’s her new husband…and he’s strangely reluctant to consummate the marriage. What secrets are keeping them apart, and keeping him from her bed? If you like your historical romance with a paranormal twist, returning author Laura Navarre brings us Magick by Moonrise, which combines Tudor England with the Faerie kingdom of Camelot. When the two worlds collide, can a fallen angel’s passion for an innocent Faerie princess save both realms from destruction?
Carina Press authors W. Soliman and Cindy Spencer Pape both return with installments in their ongoing series. In Lethal Business, W. Soliman brings us back to The Hunter Files with another Charlie Hunter mystery, where Charlie must answer the question: “Why kill the survivors of a sinking ship?” And Cindy Spencer Pape continues her popular steampunk romance series, The Gaslight Chronicles, with Cards & Caravans. Knight of the Round Table Connor MacKay has met his match in fortune-teller Belinda Danvers.
Last, this month we welcome to Carina Press contemporary romance author Kate Davies with the first in her Girls Most Likely to… trilogy, Most Likely to Succeed. Though Kate is new to Carina, she and I have worked together as author/editor for years, and I’m happy to have her writing for Carina Press. I hope you enjoy Kate’s charming contemporary voice as much as I do.
We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to [email protected]. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
www.carinapress.com
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Dedication
For my steampunk princess. I do this for you. Always.
Acknowledgements
Once again I have to thank my editor Deb for pushing and pulling at me, to make me think harder, do more and be better. This book also wouldn’t be possible without the love and support of my family. You always know when to leave me alone to write. I imagine the pouty look on my face and the fire bolts shooting from my eyes gives it away.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
About the Author
Copyright
Chapter One
Rhys Davenport looked down at the turbulent water of the Thames River and shivered. He knew how cold the water was, as he’d been catapulted into it not that long ago. He should’ve known better than to wear his best outer coat for this little venture. “Have I told you how much I despise you right now?”
His companion Percy—Lord Effington to some—was balancing on the bridge edge beside him. “Yes, three times already, but it’s really not my fault.”
“Whose fault is it then?”
“Theirs.” Percy gestured to the two unsavory men standing behind them with pistols aimed at their backs.
“Hmm, I
suppose, but I’m sure it was your inability to stay quiet that led these men to us.”
“How was I supposed to know there was going to be an alarm around the case?”
“Common sense, Percy. It is a priceless artifact.”
Percy just sniffed. “Well, I’m sorry. I’m not your brother, the thief.”
Nor am I. But Rhys didn’t say it out loud. It was good of Percy to come along on his little foray into the criminal arts. He supposed he should have waited until Jovan was back in London but they didn’t have that kind of time. The solstice was only a month away and they weren’t any closer to finding Sebastian. Jovan would’ve been proud of their burglary skills—until the alarm had gone off and they’d been chased on foot by the two armed men now holding them hostage.
“’Nuf squawking,” one of the men said. “Hand it over.”
“Hand what over?” Rhys asked, trying not to let the wind push him off the ledge. He really didn’t want to go for another swim in the river.
“The map. We know you stole it from the judge.”
The men were well-informed. They were most likely working for the sorcerer Darin Hawthorne, who preferred his dirty work to be done by dirty people. And these two reeked. Rhys could still smell them even up on the bridge’s ledge.
“Whatever Hawthorne is paying you, I’ll double it,” Rhys offered.
One of the men’s hands shook so much his pistol trembled a little as he obviously thought about the offer.
But the other man, the uglier and meaner-looking one, wasn’t having it. “No deal. Hawthorne’s helping me mum out of the noose. You can’t buy that.”
Rhys had to agree, that wasn’t something he could pay for. Hawthorne did have a lot of powerful men, law men, in his pocket.
Percy looked at him. “Now what?”
“Now hold still.”
Percy stood ramrod straight, his eyes wide, probably imagining all sorts of bad things happening. It wasn’t often Rhys used magic, but when he did, it sometimes ended up with something big and bad occurring.
Concentrating hard, Rhys twirled his wrists, his fingers moving as if he were forming something with clay. Which he supposed wasn’t too far off the mark. He was creating, just not with something as ordinary as clay. Magic was much more malleable.
“Quit yer stalling and give us the map. I don’t want to shoot you, but I will.”
Rhys ignored the threat and continued to twist his hands, gathering more and more magic to him, his work near complete.
Percy shuffled closer to him, careful not to misstep and plummet off the bridge. “I don’t think these men have much patience left.”
“Hey!” one of the men hollered. “Stop your conspiring and give us the map. This is your last chance.”
Rhys squeezed his eyes shut and pushed the last of his energy into his creation. He was about to flick his fingers to release his illusion when Percy bumped into him. His eyes snapped open as he felt his magic go.
“Dammit.” Rhys looked over his shoulder.
“What?” Percy did the same. “What did you do?”
There was a thundering growl from the shadows. Both men flinched and turned toward the sound.
“What was that?”
The growl came again. This time it was doubled, two distinct rumblings.
“Get ready to run,” Rhys whispered to Percy.
More growls came. Louder. More menacing. The two men took steps backward, their weapons trembling in the hands.
“Are them dogs?”
“Sort of,” Rhys mumbled under his breath.
The animal stepped into a slot of moonlight. It was a dog—but one with two heads and two gaping mouths lined with razor-sharp teeth. Saliva dripped between pulled-back jowls.
He’d meant to create two large menacing dogs, but when Percy bumped him, his magic got a bit twisted. The effect was the same though. The two men were afraid and distracted, giving him and Percy an opportunity to escape.
“Run!” Rhys shouted, as he turned and ran down the length of the bridge, still balancing on the ledge. He hoped Percy was right behind him but he didn’t stop to check.
Two shots rang out, the sound echoing off the stone. It wouldn’t be long before the two men figured out that the two-headed hound was just an illusion and not about to rip their throats out. Then the shots would be meant for him and Percy.
Rhys risked a glance over his shoulder to make sure his companion was close behind. He was, but another shot rang out, causing him to stumble. Percy’s foot slipped off the stone and his arms pinwheeled backward.
Blindly leaping to the side, Rhys grasped Percy’s arm before he plummeted into the river below. Sprawled across the bridge’s ledge, he struggled to keep hold of his friend. Percy was a portly man and Rhys, although tall and wiry, didn’t have the muscle and poundage to hold on for too long.
He reached down with his other hand to help Percy scramble up the side. “Grab my hand.”
Legs dangling, Percy flung his arm upward, stretching as far as he could toward Rhys’s hand. His fingertips just brushed his palm.
“Again!” Rhys commanded, twisting his shoulder so he could reach down even farther.
This time Percy was able to grasp his hand and Rhys began to pull him up. But he wasn’t strong enough. He could barely continue to hold on. Percy’s hand slipped a little from his.
“I’m falling.” There was real terror in his voice. “I’ll die. I can’t swim.”
“Just hang on.” Rhys’s arms quivered from the strain of holding that much weight. He had to try something. He could not let Percy fall. Then he spotted something in the distance, and he smiled.
“Why are you smiling?” Percy asked. “You’re going to drop me aren’t you?”
“No, just hang on.” If he could time it right, Rhys could drop Percy right on top of a barge that was chugging downstream. “When I say go, let go of my hand.”
“What?” Percy shook his head. “You want me to die?”
“It’s all right, Percy. Look.”
Eyes wide, Percy glanced at the boat inching its way toward the bridge. “You’ve got to be joking.”
“Just get ready.”
By the time the barge was near the bridge, Rhys’s arms were numb from fatigue. He couldn’t move them even if he wanted to. “One, two...”
“No. I don’t want to die!” Percy wailed, kicking his legs.
“Stop moving.”
“Don’t kill me.”
“Three.” And with that, Rhys unfurled his hands, letting Percy drop.
He howled all the way down but safely landed with an audible oomph on the canopied deck of the steam barge below.
Even though his arms felt like sausage links, all wobbly and weak, Rhys pulled himself up. He turned and dashed across the bridge to the other ledge. Shots rang out as he ran. Bits of stone peppered his face when a column was struck right beside his head. The two men must have figured out the dog was not real and they’d been duped.
Rhys leaped up onto the ledge, then kicked off, praying under his breath that he’d timed it right. If not, he was going to get cold and wet any second now. Either that or be dashed upon a rocky embankment he’d not anticipated.
Dumb luck prevailed and he landed on the same, now-torn canvas that Percy had landed on mere moments ago. His feet hit first, crumpling him to his knees. He was going to feel that something awful in the morning. Poor Percy was still lying there on his back, moa
ning when Rhys rolled in beside him.
“I hate you,” his friend groaned.
“At least you’re alive.”
“Remind me never to agree to another of your silly adventures.”
Rhys didn’t respond, because he knew there were several more of these silly ventures ahead if he wanted to find his brother Sebastian and save the League of Illusion.
Chapter Two
Startled awake, Corina snapped open her eyes and stared out into pitch black. She felt as if someone had driven a knuckle into the soft squishy part of her brain. She took in a deep breath and let it out, realizing it was just her dead mother trying to get her attention. Unfortunately, it had worked only too well.
“Mother.” She sighed, settled down again and gathered the blankets up to her chin. “I’m sleeping.”
There came another nudge at her head, this time over her right eye socket. Corina batted at her face. “Quit it.”
The pressure around her nose increased, as if someone had pinched it between thumb and forefinger. She bolted straight up in bed.
“Mother!” she bellowed.
She was loud enough that she’d probably woken her neighbors. It wouldn’t have been the first time. She’d had plenty of loud arguments with her mother in the past. Her mother was more of a pain in the arse dead than she’d ever been alive.
Actually Adelaide Stratton had been an extremely pleasant, affable woman when she’d been alive. But as a spirit she was commanding and sometimes mean-spirited. Oh, and moody. That was what drove Corina crazy. The severe mood-swings her mother now evinced. One minute she was happy and singing, the next she was knocking candles or crockery or stacks of books off the tables like a child having a temper tantrum.
Lately she’d been in the habit of waking Corina in the middle of the night to tell her daughter something or have her do something. And it had all started the day the Davenports had stepped back into her life.