Bonds and Broken Dreams
Amplifier 2
Meghan Ciana Doidge
Old Man in the CrossWalk Productions
Contents
Author’s note: Amplifier Series
Author’s Note: Adept Universe
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
COMING SOON
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Meghan Ciana Doidge
The Adept Universe by MCD
Author’s Note:
* * *
Bonds and Broken Dreams is the second book in the Amplifier series, which is set in the same universe as the Dowser, Oracle, and Reconstructionist series.
* * *
The Amplifier Protocol (Amplifier 0)
Close to Home (Amplifier 0.5)
Demons and DNA (Amplifier 1)
Bonds and Broken Dreams (Amplifier 2)
The Adept Universe is comprised of the Dowser, the Oracle, the Reconstructionist, and the Amplifier series.
While it is not necessary to read all four series, in order to avoid spoilers the ideal reading order of the Adept Universe is as follows:
* * *
Cupcakes, Trinkets, and Other Deadly Magic (Dowser 1)
Trinkets, Treasures, and Other Bloody Magic (Dowser 2)
Treasures, Demons, and Other Black Magic (Dowser 3)
I See Me (Oracle 1)
Shadows, Maps, and Other Ancient Magic (Dowser 4)
Maps, Artifacts, and Other Arcane Magic (Dowser 5)
I See You (Oracle 2)
Artifacts, Dragons, and Other Lethal Magic (Dowser 6)
I See Us (Oracle 3)
Catching Echoes (Reconstructionist 1)
Tangled Echoes (Reconstructionist 2)
Unleashing Echoes (Reconstructionist 3)
Champagne, Misfits, and Other Shady Magic (Dowser 7)
Misfits, Gemstones, and Other Shattered Magic (Dowser 8)
Graveyards, Visions, and Other Things that Byte (Dowser 8.5)
Gemstones, Elves, and Other Insidious Magic (Dowser 9)
The Amplifier Protocol (Amplifier 0)
Demons and DNA (Amplifier 1)
Bonds and Broken Dreams (Amplifier 2)
* * *
More books in the Amplifier series to follow.
* * *
More information can be found at www.madebymeghan.ca/novels
Introduction
We had chosen our place, etching our lives into a new land. Then we had defended that land when called upon to do so. And we’d won. We’d maintained our freedom.
But magic attracts magic.
As they say.
So when the sorcerers showed up, holding my recent past hostage — along with a future I had dreamed I might build — it was just as expected. In fact, I might have been getting just a little bored playing at being Emma Johnson.
I might not believe in bonds fortified by fate, or in love at first sight for that matter. But magic, it seemed, had other ideas.
Chapter 1
A faint hum of sorcerer magic prickled up my bare arms. I flipped over the back of the couch, grimoire still in hand, and peered through the front window. Despite the fact that the sun was out, the February air was still cold enough that the front section of the skirted patio was covered by the skiff of snow that had fallen overnight. Tires crunched on the gravel driveway, drawing my attention past the red-roofed barn. A black luxury SUV was slowly rolling toward the house, the driver having left the gate to the main road hanging open behind them.
Not locals, then.
That was ignorant, even rude. Especially in a rural area. Even I knew that, and I’d been raised to be a sociopath, confined for the first two decades of my life to a militarized magical compound.
The hum of sorcerer magic had made me think of Aiden, made me hope he’d returned unexpectedly. Just as I had each time one of his packages had been delivered since he left five months ago. At least I had finally learned to recognize the sound of the grocery delivery truck, so that I’d stopped springing hopefully to my feet every Tuesday afternoon. That had only taken a month.
But unfortunately, though the two figures occupying the front seat of the SUV both appeared to have dark hair, their obvious hesitation over where to park made it clear I was about to be forced to interact with strangers.
Magically inclined strangers. Which was far more annoying than the occasional mundane who dropped by to ask a question about the farm stand or to introduce themselves. We’d been living in Lake Cowichan for over a year, but we were still considered newcomers.
I glanced over at the barn. The double front doors were closed, my Mustang safely sealed within. Since the temperature had started dropping to below freezing at night a few days earlier, Christopher had kept the barn closed up, concerned about the chicken eggs he was trying to hatch within.
In the thin layer of snow, I could clearly see two sets of prints leading from the back of the house around to the back of the barn. And for some reason, the evidence of Christopher and Paisley’s passing made me feel vulnerable. As did the fact that I’d felt the sorcerers’ magic from all the way down the drive.
The house was set near the center of our two-hectare property, slightly closer to the main road at the north edge than the forested section that bordered the lake to the south. I picked up the tenor of magic from most Adepts easily — since I had to be able to feel magic in order to amplify or drain it. But distance, as well as the steel exterior of the SUV, should have dampened my range. That indicated that the uninvited visitors were powerful.
Still, if they’d come with ill intent, Christopher would have already seen it. The clairvoyant was almost impossible to block, especially since the number of Adepts who actually knew what sort of magic either of us wielded was an exceedingly short list.
I caught a glimpse of BC license plates as the SUV pulled up, parking with its driver’s-side door directly in line with the front path to the house. I stepped back from the window, grabbing my light-gray cardigan from the arm of the chair as I crossed into the front hall.
I shoved my disconcertion away as I tugged the lightly felted cashmere sleeves over my arms, then secured the top two buttons. I was more than a match for two sorcerers, even with my blades tucked away upstairs under my bed.
I paused, tugging my cotton socks off as I caught sight of the driver through the windowed front door. He’d paused to scan the property as he exited the SUV. The socks would be slippery on the varnished fir flooring if I had to move swiftly. I’d given in to the weather and opted for leggings under my calf-length dress. This far from the fire that Christopher kept constantly stoked, the wood floor was cool under my bare feet.
The first sorcerer looked achingly familiar, even in profile. Dark-navy suit, white dress shirt, no tie. Dark hair, medium-brown skin, just shy of six feet tall.
I tossed my rolled socks into the empty umbrella stand that Christopher had liberated from the attic and set in the corner by the front door, just in case we had any visitors during the rainy season. There hadn’t been any snow all winter so far, and according to the locals at the diner, the skiff we’d received the previous night was considered late in the season. And more was on its way.
Weather was a big deal in Canada, or at least in this tiny section of it. Christopher had taken the new cows we’d been free-ranging since the fall — an adult and
two of her calves — over to the Wilsons’ farm so they could be indoors if the predicted snowstorm hit. Thankfully Paisley, who considered the cows her property, was preoccupied with the chicks that would be hatching imminently, so her protest over this temporary arrangement was short-lived.
I brushed away the feeling that I knew the sorcerer as I caught sight of his companion. Her long dark hair caught in a breeze that also stirred the winter-bare rose bushes lining the driveway. Her layered navy silk dress flared around her, revealing long legs and deeply golden-tanned skin.
She shivered, rubbing her arms and casting a disdainful gaze over the house. She wore dozens of multicolored bangles on each arm, and several different lengths and thicknesses of necklaces. Though I wasn’t sensitive to such magic, I didn’t doubt that the precious metal and gems of her jewelry thrummed with stored power.
The male sorcerer turned his attention to the front patio. I waited, tucked far enough down the hall that he wouldn’t catch sight of me until he climbed the stairs. Though I had no idea of his own magical sensitivity, of course. And my magic wasn’t something easily hidden away in pretty trinkets.
The female sorcerer said something to the driver, and he shook his head sharply. I couldn’t immediately catch the words through the single-paned glass. Then I realized they weren’t speaking English. Arabic, maybe?
The female’s tone turned argumentative but the male ignored her, climbing the stairs to the front patio.
I stepped up to the door. The sorcerer on the other side of the glass paused, hand raised to knock, locking his dark eyes to me through the window. His expression shifted, becoming speculative. Then he smiled tightly.
Though his skin was a shade or two darker, nose narrower, jaw slightly rounder, and his eyes were brown instead of blue — he looked like an older version of Aiden. A sorcerer of the Azar line was on my doorstep. Literally.
Which could have meant anything. Including that he was an emissary of the Collective.
The woman stepped up behind him, halting just out of arm’s reach. She narrowed her dark-brown eyes at me, then curled her lip into a sneer. Add her high cheekbones and slim figure together with her silky hair and long legs, and it seemed likely she would have been considered striking. Beautiful.
But I didn’t like the tenor of her sorcerer magic. Even through the wood and glass that stood between us. There was something off about it, discordant. Standing next to the Azar sorcerer, the distinction between her power and his was obvious. His magic, similar to Aiden’s, was a deep, cool well of energy. Her magic was edged with a chaotic hum that instantly irritated me.
The sorcerer dropped his hand instead of knocking.
I opened the door. It wasn’t locked.
Both of their gazes flicked to the hallway behind me, instantly assessing every section of the house that they could see. Then they both turned their eyes on me. She sniffed and slouched a little, as if bored and annoyed at the same time. His dark eyes lingered on my bare toes. Then, smiling tightly again, he met my gaze.
“Isa Azar,” he said, holding out his hand. “Scion of the Azar cabal.”
He pronounced his first name ‘Ee-saa.’ His vaguely European accent was smooth, cultured, lyrical. And by the title, he was likely Kader Azar’s firstborn son. Aiden’s eldest brother.
I didn’t shake his hand. “Cabal?”
His smile broadened, revealing the edge of his straight white teeth. He waved a hand dismissively. “Family, if you will. Western media has certainly … colored the connotation.”
“The connotation of a secret society?”
His brow creased as he frowned slightly. Then he smoothed his expression, gesturing formally toward the female sorcerer. “Ruwa. Sorcerer of the Azar … cabal.”
I shifted my gaze to the woman, noting that Isa Azar didn’t deem her surname important enough to add it to his introduction. I had no idea if that was usual for sorcerers or not, but witches placed a high value on their family names.
Ruwa settled her bored gaze on me expectantly. She was taller than me in her weather-inappropriate heeled sandals. The silence stretched between us. Then she laughed haughtily, gesturing toward me. “Please. She doesn’t even know to introduce herself.” Her accent was blurred, layered as if she’d learned English while living in France.
Paris, perhaps? Where Aiden maintained a residence. Oddly, my stomach soured at that thought. So I ignored it.
The woman sniffed. “And living here … in this farm … house … how could you even think that your brother would lower —”
“Enough,” Isa Azar said without heat, and without looking at her.
She flinched, her dark eyes snapping to the other sorcerer. A red sheen flared across her pupils, but was gone the moment I spotted it. The crimson hue must have been the product of a shift in the angle of the light. Perhaps the low sunlight reflecting off the snow that currently skim-coated the patio and yard. But the image still sent goosebumps prickling up my forearms.
“We’re the ones trespassing without an invitation.” Isa Azar smiled at me, though he was addressing Ruwa. “I’m looking for my brother Aiden, and my quest has led me to your doorstep.”
“However inexplicable that might be,” Ruwa muttered, more than loud enough for me to hear even if I hadn’t possessed heightened auditory perception.
Isa’s shoulders stiffened, but he continued to ignore his sullen companion. “Might I ask if Aiden is here? And if not, when it was that you last heard from him?”
Ruwa huffed. “I can tell you Aiden isn’t here. I know the tenor of his magic … intimately.” She voiced the last word in a purr filled with malice. But I wasn’t certain whether it was intended for me or for her companion.
She was correct, though. Aiden wasn’t at the house. I had received a letter from him the previous day and had been about to sit down with a cup of tea to write a reply. But I wasn’t interested in answering any questions about Aiden from anyone. Not even his own brother.
I did, however, have a few of my own to ask.
And since I wasn’t a telepath, I was going to have to play somewhat nice to get the answers I needed — the kind of answers that would let me know whether or not Isa Azar would be leaving the property alive.
“Emma Johnson,” I said, not offering my hand. “We’re letting cold air into the house.”
Isa Azar’s smile grew. “Indeed we are.”
“I was just going to put on the kettle. Would you like to join me for tea?”
“That would be most welcome. Thank you.”
Ruwa snorted derisively.
Isa glanced at her briefly. She lifted her chin, but her gaze was cast away from him in a way that seemed oddly posed. As if she expected to be admired, perhaps. “You may wait in the car.”
“Excuse me?” Ruwa’s pose crumbled under a flash of anger.
“Wait in the car.” Isa’s tone was edged with magic. But it might have been emotionally triggered rather than intentionally voiced.
Ruwa jerked, taking a sideways step as if moving against her will. Then she pivoted, walking stiffly down the stairs, through the snow, and back to the SUV. The many layers of her navy silk dress billowed behind her — though the direction of the natural breeze was coming east to west, not from the north.
She moved as if bound to Isa Azar’s will.
I settled my gaze on Aiden’s brother, allowing a slow smile to spread across my face. I now knew almost everything I needed to know about the sorcerer standing on my threshold.
His gaze didn’t waver from me, but his expression became hooded, shuttered.
“Are you the brother that Aiden tried to kill?” I asked, still smiling.
Isa Azar stiffened. But then he visibly relaxed his shoulders. His keen gaze softened, becoming thoughtful as he swept his dark eyes over me once more, lighter shards of brown flecking the deep brown of his irises.
He scanned me, head to bare toes and back up again. Then he chuckled quietly, pleased by his visual assessment.
His smooth, cultured tone warmed. “I see.”
I stiffened, bothered by the sorcerer’s reaction. I wasn’t interested in amusing him.
“It’s temporary,” he said pleasantly.
“What? Murder? Not in my experience.”
A frown flitted across his face, quickly drowned under a widening of his smile. “The binding on Ruwa. It upset you.”
I laughed involuntarily. “It told me who you were.”
“A brother that Aiden would deem weak enough to try to usurp.”
“No,” I said coolly, lying. “I knew you were magically outclassed by your brother the moment you set foot on the property.”
His easy smile tightened, taking on a nasty edge.
Finally.
It usually didn’t take me quite so long to irritate someone.
Then he shook his head, laughing quietly again. “Perhaps your senses aren’t as refined as you think, amplifier.”
Amplifier. So the sorcerer could sense magic, no matter how tightly bound I kept my power. Or he’d known who I was before showing up at my door. “I’m not yours to test, sorcerer Azar.”
He sobered, then simply looked at me.
I stood still under his gaze, not even remotely interested in being goaded into the magical display he seemed keen to provoke.
“Yes,” he finally said. “Aiden did try to usurp my place within the Azar cabal. He was unsuccessful because he refused to kill me after rendering me unconscious.”
I must have betrayed some surprise, because Isa’s grin returned. He held his hands out slightly to the sides. “I could argue that I was blindsided. Attacked at a moment of … intimacy. Betrayed, and possibly drugged, by a lover I was unaware I shared with my youngest brother.” His smile broadened. “For some reason, women seem to find beauty more beguiling than position.” He settled back on his heels, making a show of looking off toward the garden at the east side of the house. “But those are just excuses. And also the reason that Ruwa is temporarily bound to me.”
Bonds and Broken Dreams (Amplifier 2) Page 1