The Van Wilden Chronicles Box Set Books 1-3

by Jessica Gleave

  Chapter Seventeen

  The very same morning, Morgana returned home with nothing to report. There wasn’t any movement from the Forest Clan, which put her on edge. She entered the property through the backyard. Something didn’t add up. She walked over to the back porch, stopping to turn around and stare into the edge of the woods framing the Van Wilden’s backyard. Ragnorok had to be out there somewhere hiding amongst those trees, plotting his revenge against them.

  She rubbed her temples trying to remember anything about the previous mission involving Ragnorok, but her mind remained blank. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and scrolled through the numbers, tapping on the one person she thought could help.

  She strode along the porch, the call ringing in her ears.

  “Little sis, it has been a long time,” her oldest brother, Jonas, greeted her on the other end. His accent is a mixture of British but with the underlying tones of the old country. “How long has it been?”

  “Four years, maybe?”

  “Blimey, an American accent sounds strange on you.”

  Morgana shrugged even though he couldn’t see. “Well, you know it’s all part of the cover and all that. Do you want me to drop it?”

  “No, keep it up in case anyone else is listening.”

  Morgana smiled. Jonas was always the dutiful one.

  “So, I heard you got your butt kicked back in Australia?”

  “Of course not,” she scoffed. “But father did end up swooping in and killing him for me. What about you?”

  “You know I can’t divulge details of any of my missions.”

  Morgana shrugged, her mouth twitching as she talked. “Worth a try. One day I’m hoping you’ll slip up.”

  Jonas snorted. “Never going to happen. Look, sis, they’ve made me the Head of the North America Division.”

  Morgana smiled. “I heard. Good for you.”

  Jonas chuckled. “So is this a personal call or business?”

  “Business. I need your help.”

  “With what, little sis?”

  “I need you to send me the file on the Obscure Coven.”

  “Hang on, let me write down the details. I’ll have my assistant send it to you.” She could hear the scratching of the pen even through the phone speakers.

  “You have an assistant?”

  She could hear the amusement in his voice. “More perks of the job.”

  “Why didn’t Randalf have one?”

  “He did. Only he never used her,” Jonas said darkly.

  Morgana sighed. It was because of her Randalf had gone rogue and tried to micro-manage this mission, all in his crazed attempt to win her back.

  “Right, well, I’ll get her to send you the file right away. What do you need it for?”

  “It’s related to this mission. It was Ragnorok’s first coven… the Obscure Clan, and we were also assigned to them.”

  “How long ago was the mission?”

  “Funny thing is I can’t remember anything about the mission. But from what Randalf began telling me, it was about two hundred years ago.”

  “Some missions are so horrific we subconsciously block them from our memories.”

  “Wise words, big brother.”

  “Hey, you don’t live for as long as I have without being wise.”

  Morgana chuckled.

  “Well, I’ll investigate further for you and send everything we can.”

  “Thanks, Jonas.”

  “You know, I’m here for you, sis. Let me know if there’s anything else I can help you out with.”

  “I’ll definitely keep it in mind. Bye, Jonas.”

  “Bye, Morgana.”

  She ended the call, tapping the phone against her palm. What had been so horrible all three of them had blocked it out?

  Whatever it was, it had to have been horrific for Ragnorok to be out for their blood.

  Morgana looked back at the forest. She didn’t need to be at the campaign office today, and she was already dressed for scouting. Might as well go back into the woods.

  ***

  Morgana stepped into the wooden hut, her eyes automatically adjusting to the gloom. The round room was exactly how she had left the hut the last time she’d been there, even down to the broken chair she had kicked, lying in the middle of the floor.

  She looked around, a stake in hand, but there was no one here. Until she felt him—his all-too-familiar presence.

  Gareth.

  She closed her eyes. God, she had missed him.

  When he entered the hut, she half hoped he would pull her into his arms, holding her against his chest. She would let her head fall back against his shoulder while he nuzzled her neck.

  The bond made his presence so much more pronounced as if he were inside her body, right there under her skin.

  “Morgana,” he said. His voice sounded neither happy nor angry to see her. “What are you doing here?”

  She opened her eyes, his tone dousing her heated desire like icy water. She couldn’t blame him. The last time they had seen each other, they’d argued, and Gareth had walked away with Morgana letting him go. It had only been a few days ago. Between searching for the Forest Clan’s new lair and working at the campaign office, she’d been too busy to talk to him. She also didn’t want to relive those memories.

  Morgana closed her eyes briefly before answering. “I’m trying to find some clues as to where they may have gone. What about you? Did you find anything about where they might be hiding now?”

  “Nada.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You shouldn’t be out here on your own. Didn’t you hear your father’s orders?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, we’re back to that, are we? You going off on your own again?”

  She shook her head and turned around, looking straight past him toward the door. “We should keep looking.” She went to walk past him.

  “Wait.” Gareth held up his hand to stop her.

  Morgana avoided having eye contact with him. She didn’t want him to know she missed him, even though he could probably feel it from her.

  He placed his fingers under her chin and lifted her face, so she had no choice but to look into his eyes—those brilliant blues piercing into hers.

  “I miss you,” Gareth told her.

  Morgana closed her eyes. Her heart ached to tell him the same thing.

  But there was work to be done, and she would have to admit she was wrong about not telling him about Mariza.

  He dropped his hand. Morgana opened her eyes, missing his touch. He had stepped aside to let her pass.

  “Thanks,” she muttered, striding toward the doorway. But she stopped. Who was she kidding? Morgana turned back to face him.

  “I miss you, too.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Gareth walked with his shoulders hunched over, his hands jammed into the front pocket of his jeans. The recent encounter with Morgana hadn’t gone as well as he had hoped. They had both told each other they missed each other, but Morgana had still walked away.

  Man, his woman could hold a grudge.

  He was the one who she’d kept the secret from in the first place. It should be him who remained angry. He’d spent his entire existence as a vampire not allowing himself to get close to a woman—emotionally. But now he’d learned to trust women again, and it was hard not to feel the emptiness when Morgana wasn’t around.

  He threw the old oak tree in the town’s center a dirty look as he walked past. Over the years, lovers had scratched their names inside hearts into its trunk—bunch of dreamers. Life wasn’t so romantic. He stopped. Maybe he should do a big cheesy romantic gesture like carving their names into the trunk. If anything, Morgana would get a laugh out of it. He chuckled to himself, then turned around and walked back to the tree. He looked around to see if anyone was watching. The humans mulling around the town center were either staring at or talking into their cell phones. No one was paying him any attention. He used his fingernail to scratch a large, wonk
y heart in the bark and inscribed their initials.

  He stood back and pulled his cell phone out to take a photo to send to Morgana.

  “Oh, that’s so sweet. Is that for us?” spoke the female voice behind him.

  Gareth was startled by the voice and nearly dropped his phone.

  “Mariza, what are you doing here?” He turned to face her. He sniffed the air when he realized he hadn’t sensed her. “Are you wearing wolfsbane?”

  “Are you going to let me answer the first question, or are you going to keep firing more at me?” she asked sarcastically.

  “Well, are you going to answer any of my questions?” He crossed his arms over his chest, earning an eye roll from Mariza.

  “The wolfsbane is a neat little trick to mask your presence from other vampires, don’t you think?”

  “Why do you need to mask your presence?”

  “Don’t want anyone to find me, of course.” She sighed, rolling her eyes again.

  “You still didn’t answer my first question.”

  Mariza looked at the newly carved heart. “You know it truly does look like it could be for us.”

  Gareth gritted his teeth. “No, it’s for my girlfriend, Morgana.”

  “Not from what I hear. You two are fighting because of little ol’ me.”

  Gareth growled. His teeth clenched together so tightly he thought he might grind them to dust. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  Mariza shrugged, inspecting another nail.

  Now it was Gareth’s turn to roll his eyes. “Why don’t you just leave Oak Wood Hills already?”

  Mariza looked up, chagrined. “Because I haven’t gotten what I came here for.”

  “Plus, there’s also no single rich men for you to mooch off here.”

  “Please, Daddy will be topping up my trust account soon.”

  Janet, the local gossip reporter, a short woman with wavy, dirty blonde hair, walked by, her large, beady, blue-gray eyes stared at the two of them.

  Gareth groaned. The last thing they needed was an article published about Mariza.

  “Great, she’s seen us.”

  Mariza looked at the back of Janet’s head, “What’s the big deal?”

  “That’s Janet, the gossip columnist.”

  “So?”

  “This is a small town. She’ll be looking to dig up dirt on you, seeing as you’re here with me. You saw how Phyllis reacted when she found out about you. Imagine the damage to Oscar’s campaign if Janet finds out who you are.”

  Mariza snorted. “Pu-lease, it’s only a cover for them being here at all.”

  “You know Oscar cares about this campaign, makes him feel human.”

  Mariza’s eyes narrowed. “Falling in love with a human was the worst mistake my father ever made. If he weren’t my father, I would have staked him myself.”

  “You would kill your father for finding love?”

  “No. I simply said if he weren’t, I would have.” Mariza eyed him up and down. “I really should have made sure you were truly dead that night.”

  Gareth opened his mouth to retort but thought better of it. She wanted a rise out of him. That’s how she worked.

  Mariza curled her lip up at the corner when he didn’t bite and stalked past him.

  Gareth turned back to the tree and touched the freshly-carved markings. He shouldn’t be mad at Morgana. Truth be told, he had already forgiven her. With a sister like that, no wonder she didn’t want to talk about her.

  If Morgana wasn’t going to make the first move toward forgiveness, then it was up to him to do so. He snapped the photo of his carving and walked away.

  Chapter Nineteen

  What Mariza needed was a drink and the ability to get drunk. Instead, she did her next favorite thing—scouting the hotel bar, hoping to find herself a rich young man to set her up for a few decades, so she wouldn’t have to visit her so-called family again for a very long while. As much as she hated to admit, Gareth had been right when he pointed out the pickings were slim. The only ones who fit her usual profile were her annoying little thorn-in-her-side creation and his Irish friend. She was not going there. Again.

  She groaned inward when she felt the vampire sit down next to her.

  She turned to face Ragnorok, giving him the once over. She had to admit, he was a handsome fellow—might as well have some fun while she was here.

  “My, my,” she purred, leaning toward him. “Don’t you scrub up nicely for a forest-hovel vampire.” She touched the lapel of his navy suit jacket. “Tailored, too,” she admired, her eyes trailing up.

  He smiled at her, but once again, it never reached his gray eyes. “I believe you’re a woman of refined tastes, so I felt I should dress appropriately.”

  “Well, I appreciate the effort.”

  “I do find you to be quite the fetching lady despite your choice of a whoring lifestyle.” He reached out, touching a lock of blonde hair which she had curled.

  She huffed, pursing her lips and moving out of his reach, but either Ragnorok didn’t notice the change in her mood or didn’t seem to care. He laughed, placing a kiss on her cheek. The kiss sent tingles down her spine. Traitorous body. How long had it been since she felt the touch of a man? Too long from her body’s reaction. She pressed her thighs together so he wouldn’t smell her arousal.

  “Tell me, Mariza. What does one drink when they are in a human bar?”

  She lifted her martini glass toward him. “I always order a martini, makes me look more sophisticated.”

  “A martini it is, then.” He signaled to the bartender.

  The young bartender came over—the cute one with whiskey-brown eyes. She’d been flirting with him for free drinks. “What can I get for you folks?”

  “Two martinis.”

  “Coming right up.” He winked at Mariza.

  Ragnorok leaned in toward Mariza. “Doesn’t he look good enough to eat?” he whispered in her ear.

  She giggled, watching the bartender making their drinks. “We should ask if he would like a drink with us later.”

  Ragnorok smiled, and this time it was genuine, his eyes flashing. “I like the way you think, my dear.”

  While he was nibbling on her ear, her breathing was growing heavy. Ragnorok may not be rich, but he was here now, and she needed a good fucking.

  She leaned in to suggest leaving for her hotel room when the bartender brought over their drinks. She bristled with irritation but quickly smiled.

  Ragnorok picked up his drink. “A toast.”

  Mariza picked up her own. “What are we toasting?”

  “A night of fun, the good ol’ fashioned kind, sans Council rules.” He moved his glass closer to hers.

  “I told you I’ll not help you kill my father.”

  “Forget Oscar. It’s Morgana I’m after now.”

  Mariza smiled, clinking her glass against his. “Now that I can get on board with.”

  ***

  An hour later, they stood in the lobby waiting for the lift. Ragnorok stood behind Mariza and nuzzled her neck. His plan was going well, though he knew it wouldn’t be hard to seduce a succubus. He often found women were more susceptible to pillow talk after being ravished first. The lift doors slid open, and they rushed inside. As soon as the doors were closed, Ragnorok pushed her up against the back wall.

  Mariza groaned, fumbling to press her floor number.

  He covered her mouth pressing his lips hard against her, his hands on her ass lifting her. She wrapped her legs around his waist. He pressed his hardening cock into her warm center, making her head fall back. Without warning, he ripped away her lace panties and undid his slacks with his free hand. He didn’t care much for foreplay.

  He rubbed the end of his length around her slick opening.

  “Here in the elevator?” her voice was now husky.

  “I’ll have you moaning my name as you come all over my cock before we reach your floor.”

  Mariza tilted her head back, eyes closed. “Ye
s,” she moaned.

  He plunged into her, feeling her wet sheath surrounding him. It had been far too long since he had been inside a woman, his time mostly spent plotting his revenge and building his clan.

  He thrust into her repeatedly, his movements picking up to vampire speeds. He could feel her contracting around him, her groans growing louder.

  “Ragnorok!” she screamed, coming apart.

  His climax followed shortly after.

  The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open. They prised apart and quickly straightened themselves.

  A middle-aged woman stood there eyeing them up and down. She huffed as she walked into the lift.

  Ragnorok wrapped his arm around Mariza’s shoulders. They both laughed as they exited.

  “Ah, excuse me, but you left these,” the woman called out to them, holding the torn garments of Mariza’s by a tiny corner.

  “Thank you, my good lady.” Ragnorok smirked, taking the panties and pocketing it.

  Mariza was already standing in the open door of her room. Ragnorok crossed over to her quickly, seizing the back of her neck, pressing his lips hungrily to hers. He walked her back into the room, kicking the door shut behind him.

  The hotel room was more of a suite. Its cream-colored walls and floor-to-ceiling windows were designed for guests with luxury in mind, but Ragnorok took no notice of this as he walked Mariza over to the large king bed.

  When Mariza’s legs hit the end of the ensemble, he twisted her around and bent her forward, her palms fell flat on the ivory duvet cover.

  He grabbed the hem of her short, sparkly dress, ripping it apart with his hands, exposing her smooth brown skin.

  “Hey, I liked that dress,” she protested, turning her head to glare at him over her shoulder. He silenced her with a kiss bringing his hand around cupping her mound. She moaned into his mouth. Freeing his once again hardening cock from his pants with his other hand and letting his trousers fall to his ankles, he sheathed himself into her, still slick from their earlier orgasms.