by J. M. Davies
“After we received the news of Simon’s death, yes. He left explicit instructions not to involve anyone else, and not to strike out on our own. He feared my family would suffer as a consequence. My family was informed Simon died in a car crash. That he lost control while driving the hired car in Napa Valley. He hit a tree and it exploded. They said the toxicology results showed him to be over the limit, which is impossible because…”
“Let me guess—he didn’t drink.” Marcus tapped his finger on the photograph on the table while he zeroed in on the kid.
Henry nodded and he drew his focus away.
“Do you still have the files?”
“Yes. Well, at least Steel has them.”
“What did it show?”
“There’s photographs of the Padre meeting with cartel leaders, and involvement in sex trafficking across the border. Simon copied and documented as much detailed evidence as he could.”
“Good. I will need to see the files, but I suspect if Steel still wanted you to infiltrate the company, we need more than what we have. If you go in, we play this my way. You are not to go off half-cocked and strike out on your own. You won’t make it to first base. Do you hear me?”
Henry shot his gaze to him and nodded. “Steel planned to have me infiltrate Soltaire. It was merely a question of when, but the murders and the gathering took precedence.”
“This isn’t something we can put together overnight, Henry. It takes time, and once you are inside…”
“I know what I’m getting myself into, Drayton. He was my brother. I would have given my life for his. There’s no part of this plan in which I don’t get to be involved, and I don’t have expectations of returning. But I sure as shit will do enough damage that this fucker doesn’t get to be president of the United States of America.”
Marcus didn’t like it. The kid didn’t have experience in the field, and once inside, communication initially would be minimal. He would have to fend for himself until he had established trust. None of this would be easy.
“We will bring you home.” Marcus said it because that’s what they did: they never left a man behind.
Chairs scraped over the wood floor.
“Good God, that took long enough. Now that you have established that this boy is going, we’re leaving. We will reconvene next week at the portal for the Veil of Shadows, my lady,” boomed Zayn.
Marcus pushed his chair back and approached Zayn as he rose to leave. “Stay safe, and watch your backs. This Morrigan, queen of darkness, knows we are amassing against her. She sent an assassin to cause chaos, but she isn’t going to stop. Once you leave, she will look to strike again. No one is safe.”
The surly warrior stroked his sword sheathed at his side. “We will be ready, but as a precaution, I have requested a mandatory curfew for my people to reduce any public gatherings until things are more settled. We will rise and fight alongside you in battle, I give you my pledge.”
The two men clasped hands and shook before stepping apart. In turn, each member of the Assembly did the same, until Roman, the pale, abrasive vampire prince, faced him, alongside Lady Tenille.
“Innocent blood will be spilled in battle; it goes without saying. Indeed, it is hard to see the enemy from a friend when fighting for your life. Keep that human away from Isabella, or I will not be held responsible for the actions of my people, who take his interest in my future wife as a sign of disrespect. As do I. Do you hear me, Drayton?”
The vampire eyeballed him, the threat loud and clear. Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose, summoning all the patience he could.
“I’m not aware that anything inappropriate has taken place between Jake and Isabella. What about her talking to Bear, Henry, or any man for that matter, including myself? You’re being ridiculous. She’s your bride, although I do not see a ring on her finger. Anyway, you of all people should be confident of where her affections lie. If that’s not the case, perhaps you should examine why.” Marcus stepped aside to capture Lady Tenille’s hand as she smiled at him. In his peripheral line of vision, he saw Roman leave the room in a huff, shrugging his guards aside. The vampire needed to assess his relationship with the witch and fix it once and for all, because the distraction wouldn’t help any of them.
“Tell me about Arandell, and all you know of the Morrigan, my lady.”
CHAPTER NINE
Ella lit several candles. She didn’t know whether this would help, but whenever Isabella cast a spell, she used them. Lighting the last pillar candle on the coffee table, she glanced at her watch, not wanting Marcus to walk in and discover her. A surge of guilt swam through her at the thought of Marcus, and she shook her head to dispel it. Why should I feel guilty? Marcus plotted behind my back and God knows what else. Each thought heightened her anger and reinforced her intent. Her cheeks flushed and she clenched her fists. Staring at the stairway that led to Nate’s room, she knew she couldn’t scream or yell out her frustrations. Therefore, she used the emotion until a ball of power throbbed inside her belly. The heat of that anger fanned out, filling her veins and making her fingers tingle with the surge of prickling heat. Ella closed her eyes, and several familiar voices whispered.
Ella, you can do this.
Gwendoline, from her first life, always snuck up, sending messages and guiding her. The others joined in.
We are with you, Ella, always. We will never abandon you or Nate. We are you.
Ella’s heart expanded with love and strength as the voices of her previous lives surrounded her. She wondered, as their words filled her mind, could she answer them? Ask questions? Her heart pumped fast and it pounded against her ribs. The color and atmosphere in the room shifted. Voices whispered words, and goose bumps shivered down her arms. When she opened her eyes, the women surrounded her.
Standing before her were the three ghosts from her past. Each different, each remarkable in their own way. She stretched her hand out to them. As soon as she touched the hands of the women, a wave of powerful sizzling energy charged through her, lifting her spirits. The four held hands in a circle. A soft vibration thrummed throughout her body. The women smiled at her and chanted.
“Revelare in sanguine librum de.”
Ella knew instinctively what the words meant, reveal the Book of Blood, and started to recite with the others over and over until the voices blurred together into one loud, haunting chant. The circle of women swayed, and she moved her hips from side to side as if in a trance. Even when she closed her eyes, the haunting melody sang around her, soothing and warm. Ella loved Marcus beyond reason. But in the beginning, she resisted falling in love. Falling in love exposed her, and in all her previous lives, in opening herself up to that emotion, it allowed men to deceive and betray her. Falling in love caught her off-guard. It made her vulnerable.
Ella ignored and resisted the growing feelings she had for the FBI agent sent to capture her, until he claimed her. The pull of sensual attraction was so strong, she didn’t have a choice. A blinding love compelled her. Now, she needed to discover what lay beneath that powerful emotion. Will the marriage survive this betrayal? Do I take revenge upon him? Or simply walk away? Lost in her thoughts, a loud thump shook the deafening silence in the room and jolted her wide awake. The scent of vanilla from the candles wafted over her, and she opened her eyes. Resting on the wooden table lay a thick leather-bound brown book with heavy gold scroll work inscribed on the front. A large oval ruby sat in the center. A magnificent ancient relic.
A nervousness swam inside her. The book contained the knowledge and history of soul-shifters, alongside all supernatural beings, but she wanted to know the reason Marcus wanted it. She knelt on the floor and licked her lips as she traced her fingertips over the pretty, intricate scrollwork that edged the four corners of the hefty volume. She stared briefly over her shoulder as if expecting Marcus to appear at any moment. Carefully, she lifted the brown leather cover and stared in wonder at the beautiful watercolor illustrations inside, of the many faces of the supernatu
ral races. As she turned the ancient parchment, she skimmed over the words written in a language she couldn’t decipher, and flicked through the pages. Each one was written in red ink, in the same language. She slammed the book closed.
Ella rubbed her forehead, and opened the book again. If Marcus used this book, there must be a way to decipher the words. Opening the magnum opus again, she turned the pages with great care, taking her time, but the book never seemed to get smaller. She realized that no matter how many pages she turned, she never reached the end. Unable to read the text and with no clue as to how many pages were inside, she heaved a sigh.
Staring at the bold calligraphy, she ran her eyes over the words, lost for a moment in the beauty of the penmanship. As she stared at each word, a voice relayed the meaning to her. A voice she recognized. Ariana.
Turn the page, Ella.
Ella did as instructed and when Ariana called for her to stop, she did, and listened to the melodic voice of the goddess as she narrated the story of the soul-shifters cursed by Dagda. When Ariana talked about mated soul-shifters, Ella chewed on her fingernails in anticipation as instinct told her this was at the crux of what Marcus sought.
In the case of mated soul-shifters, the balance of power is equal, which is considered to be best for each partner’s health and to maintain harmony. However, usually within a mated couple, one is the Alpha and one the Beta. If the desired dominant mate wishes, he or she can assert influence over their partner or share their unique skills with the other. In order for that to take place, the mating must be consensual, the giving of oneself in mind, body, and soul for a true mating to exist with the exchange of blood. To surrender power to a mate, a simple ritual is required. However, when the balance of power shifts, the bond between mates is weakened. The ability to read each other lessens, and the ties that bind a couple together easier to break.
When mated, soul-shifters become immortal, which means their lifespan exceeds that of a human. The aging process is diminished, but the body remains susceptible to fatalities. Only the soul exists forever. Any offspring born to mated soul-shifters are vulnerable to death unless within four lifetimes they meet their soul-mate. And so the cycle continues, unless the curse is broken.
Ariana’s voice continued, and Ella listened. Did Marcus understand the consequences of messing with their bond? A pain deep inside her chest caught her breath, and she clutched her hand to her breast, holding it there. Sitting back on the floor, staring at the open book, she pressed her lips together. Ella didn’t know how to make Marcus reveal his secret, but as she studied her surroundings, she tried hard to remember when things changed.
Closing her eyes, she thought back over the past three months and how her life transformed after rescuing Nate from the Black Hawk facility. What did she remember? That night was forever etched on her brain because she was terrified her baby wouldn’t be there, for one thing. She also worried that she wouldn’t be able to recognize her own son. However, the ghosts of her past helped her. She recalled that night, as she faced off the security guard, who she teased as a way to distract him while Marcus attended to the other man. She remembered the guard pawing her breasts.
Ella folded her arms across her chest and moment by moment, retraced that evening. She remembered walking into the laboratory with Marcus. Then she cradled Nate and walked out. She squeezed her forehead. That wasn’t right. She saw the professor. One moment, they faced each other and the next, they were outside, with bullets flying around them.
Instinctively, she remembered saving the life of the man she loathed, who she held responsible for Nate’s abduction. But little else. From that moment on, her life changed. Outside of caring for Nate, she withdrew from Orion. She didn’t attend any of the meetings or take part in any active missions. The last three months passed by so fast. Nate wasn’t a great sleeper, but she loved being with him. As she examined her life, she frowned and wondered when she decided to give up her career to become a stay-at-home mom.
A need for fresh air made her jump up and run for the front door, which she swung open. Darting through, she stood on the porch and stared at the fresh snow stretching out, covering the lawns and bushes. She shivered, dressed in her thin sweater and leggings, but savored the stillness to clear her mind.
“What’s wrong with me?”
Nothing is wrong. Your instincts are built-in to ensure survival. You’re not wrong to be scared.
The clear voices of the women from her past didn’t reassure her. Their words confirmed her suspicions that Marcus, the man she loved with every beat of her heart, betrayed her trust. But why?
****
“How many are coming tonight, Ella?” Marcus studied himself in the mirror of the bathroom and Ella couldn’t help but admire the impressive stats of the man. His broad chest was exposed as he trimmed his short beard, with his complete focus on his action. Dipping her head, she eyed the fine line of dark hair that rose from his belly button up his tight, rippled abdomen and flowed over his firm pecs. His body was a drool-worthy masterpiece. Her eyes swept over his tight and toned muscles peppered with scars, which emphasized his allure and vitality. Right now, his wide, tense shoulders carried the weight of the world. Ella contemplated his every movement as he examined his face and placed his trimmer on the sink to grab a lotion, which he smoothed over his sculpted cheeks. She noted his neat eyebrows dipped and his face was pensive and deep in thought.
“There’s six of us. Isabella, Jake, Henry, Elizabeth, you and me. Why?” she answered.
“It would have been good to have a quiet evening to ourselves, that’s all.”
Lifting her lipstick, she applied the blood-red color to her generous lips and pressed her mouth to ensure the color spread evenly. Happy with the result, she ran her brush through her hair to soften the curls, and caught him inspecting her. Should she ask him now, and cancel the dinner party? Ella placed her brush on the countertop, ready to open her mouth, but a ding-dong from the front door broke the silence and the moment ended.
“I didn’t think the guests were arriving until seven thirty?” Marcus said.
Ella checked her watch, which read seven. Nate had only been down about fifteen minutes. “I’ll go. It’s probably Elizabeth. She said she would be early.”
Ella left Marcus semi-naked and charged downstairs to stop the doorbell ringing anymore. She pulled the door open and in strolled Elizabeth, dressed in a pretty floral dress that outlined her slim figure to perfection. The doctor wore her choppy hair in a ruffled, got-out-of-bed style that no one else could pass off as other than that. But in that killer dress, Elizabeth looked unrecognizable.
“You look gorgeous,” she said.
The shy doctor skimmed her hand over the front of her dress and lowered her head to study her cleavage. “Is it too much?” She waved her hand over her exposed curves and Ella shook her head.
“Not at all. Now, I just need to go and finish getting ready.”
The doctor studied Ella. “I’m too early, aren’t I?”
Pink circles dotted her friend’s cheeks and Ella slid her arm through the doctor’s, drawing her into the kitchen.
“Nope. I just take forever—ask Marcus. I have everything ready and started to prepare the appetizers, but let me get you an apron—you don’t want to spoil your outfit. And when I come back, we can have a glass of wine.” Ella laughed. A bubble of hysteria threatened an onslaught of the giggles. She needed to get a grip on her nerves if she intended to go through with her scheme. A part of her wondered whether she should, but the other half of her demanded the truth. Pulling the nearest drawer open wide, she fished out the apron, and handed it over to Elizabeth.
“Here you go. I won’t be long. I’m starving.” Ella lied. She didn’t think she could eat a morsel.
Elizabeth smiled and picked up the black apron.
Ella headed out of the kitchen, and ran for the stairs. Taking them two at a time, she collided with a wall of steel. Marcus. She toppled and he grabbed her arm to hel
p steady her before she fell.
“What’s the emergency?”
Leering him up and down, she couldn’t help but want to reach out and touch him. Dressed in faded jeans, which hugged him, and a charcoal shirt rolled down to his elbows, he exuded a casual sexiness she found irresistible. The fresh citrus smell wafted from him—his favorite aftershave and hers. Damn it, she wanted to hate him, but when his smoky eyes sizzled at her with a blazing desire, they were like two forces colliding, desperate and greedy for each other. Inhaling, she told herself it was because they were mates.
Marcus raked his feverish gaze over her silk nightgown and placed his hands on her narrow hips, drawing her into the heat of his body. When he tilted his head down, their lips were inches apart. He cupped her bottom, pulling her closer against his hardness. Flaming awareness thrummed through her as to the effect she had on him.
“Jesus, Ella—you were sent to torment me. Get dressed, before I scare off our guest.” He palmed her cheek with his hand and brushed his thumb over her lower lip.
Ella leaned into him before she could stop herself. For a moment, she lingered, staring into his dark and dangerous eyes. No other man, with one look, made all her thoughts turn sinful. He rendered her at his mercy. He always did. Studying his gaze, blistering and naked desire shined back at her, and damn it, but she adored his wildness. Needing distance, she wriggled out of his hold. Tonight would be a disaster if she couldn’t gain control.
“Elizabeth is a little nervous. Go and help her. I won’t be long.”
A crestfallen look fell over his face as he stepped back to let her pass. “Why is the serious doctor nervous? It’s a dinner party, not an inquisition.”
His brusque manner startled her, and she glanced over at the kitchen. “No reason. Just go and help her. I need to change before anyone else arrives.”
Marcus slipped his hand inside the silk material of her nightgown, touching her heated skin. He stroked the outline of her rounded breast and brushed his thumb over her pert nipple, sending butterflies exploding in her belly.