Keeleys Curse

Keeley’s Curse By Sophia Danu

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Keeley’s Curse Copyright © 2008 Sophia Danu ISBN: 978-1-55487-154-4 Cover art by Martine Jardin All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. Published by eXtasy Books Look for us online at: www.extasybooks.com

Prologue

“S

o what? She’s jus some ol’ woman?” The slurred, angry words rang in my ears and echoed in my mind, over and over. Chemistry formulas that floated in my dreams were rudely interrupted by a far more malignant, devastating source. As the vision came on me, I awakened from sleep. The realization of what happened prompted a long, mental scream of desolation and sorrow. In the aftermath, rage settled into my bones. My soul solidified the intense emotion and hardened me to everything but a burning need for restitution. My grandmother, Elise, my Nana, was just murdered. The killer would pay. Not because I craved vengeance, and I did, fiercely, in those first harrowing moments, but because there was evil brewing in my hometown of Blue Springs, Kentucky and someone, er, me had to do something about it. Revenge was a bonus—the byproduct of removing the stench that gathered in the mountains and around the people that I loved. 1

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I am ever mindful that magic isn’t to be used carelessly. The Goddess, and the spirits that be, don’t appreciate witches who invoke spells in their name for frivolous pursuits like personal gain or revenge. But meting out justice is encouraged and I just became justice’s Mistress. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in Kentucky where I might have stopped this tragedy. I was in California where I attended college. I was a student at UC, Berkeley in my senior year of study. At Nana’s insistence, I crossed the country to go school four years ago. I chose biology as my major and consumed myself in the study of herbal and plant properties and their affect on the human body. The subject matter was a natural fit, but California wasn’t where I belonged. As beautiful as it was, the mountains called me home. I came from a long heritage of magic. Our familial powers were vast and exotic, but healing was an essential element to our craft. Enchanted family members have mostly been females, though occasionally a male has been thrown into the mix. That legacy originated where all our magic dwelled over the centuries, in what Nana called the family castle in Ireland, but I’ve never been there or met the family. It’s always been strange to know of this ancient birthright and magical commonality with this 2

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tight knit clan that I don’t know. It never mattered before when Nana was with me. I didn’t need anyone else or feel some deep-seated need for the family that I knew was out there. Now I was alone and it mattered that I had a family in the world. My young parents were killed while I was an infant. I was told my mother was like my Nana and me—a gifted and powerful healer. I don’t know the story behind her and my father’s deaths—Nana only said it was a horrible accident. She was the only family I knew. The one who raised me with love and affection—the one always there and now she was gone. If only I was in Kentucky. In my opinion, the late vision was my failure, the result of a lack of power, an inadequacy. If I was stronger, maybe I would have them sooner. They are the bane of my existence. I never know when one will appear or what to do about it. When someone close to my heart is in an extreme state of emotional anxiety, like pain, despair, even death—I can see them and what they are doing, wherever they are. Unfortunately, the visions come as they occur—often too late to help. Imagine the pain and helplessness of watching someone you love suffer and not help them? Welcome to my world. Nana told me as I get older and learned to control my power, opening myself to the sight, the visions would happen ahead of 3

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time. That’s never happened so at present, I was in my bedroom. My roommate, Celia, was asleep in her room down the hall. The vision struck, unexpected and unpredictable as always, with nothing I could do to stop Nana’s death. Violent anger and underlying despair swept over me. Unaware of the impending tragedy, I’d been asleep for only forty-five minutes after studying late for an Organic Chemistry exam. It’s my senior elective, not one that most people choose, but as a healer I find the chemical properties of plants fascinating in my modern approach to spelling. The horrific vision eradicated thoughts of exams or senior electives and cultivated in me a fierce need to kill. I wanted to destroy Nana’s killer and now I knew who it was. Byron Malone, the Blue Springs town bully and general thug, like his father and his father before. He murdered the one person that I loved more than anyone else in the world—my rock, my guidepost, my beloved grandmother. He, deliberately, ran over one of the gentlest, purest souls in the world. I imagined he felt no remorse as he bounced his heap of shit over the delicate bones of my loving Nana. I saw it all again as I pictured Nana walking, as she routinely did, under the light of the moon. Like me, she was magically talented—a witch, for 4

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lack of a better term of description—although the word in no way encompassed Nana and her abilities. It wasn’t uncommon that she collected herbs, enjoyed the bounty of nature and garnered power from the moon goddess in the wee hours of the morning. Many plants are harvested better in the moonlight during the witching hour. I noticed Byron as he sat in his truck and downed Budweiser after Budweiser, bolstering his nerve, while he waited for her to appear. He’d parked his rusted pickup after picking up McDonald’s and beer and then lingered in the cab. He drank and threw crumpled cans on the floorboard and worked himself into an excited state, anticipating the evil deed he was about to enact. I closed my eyes and replayed the vision, analyzing each moment. Surprised at the level of control and insight that was revealed, I frowned, but stayed linked to the revelation. The connection between us was frighteningly strong. I hated the sensation, but I needed to know everything I could about the situation so I gave in and felt myself fade as I fell into Byron’s mind. Byron finished another beer and belched when he smashed the can between his meaty palms. Tossing the flattened aluminum on the floor with the others, he popped the top on his twelfth for the evening. He ran the back of his hand over his 5

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mouth, wiping the beer and sweat from his upper lip. “Where is the bitch?” he muttered. “He said she would be here.” He glanced in the rearview mirror from his nook in the tree line and saw her approach, walking with her staff—her silver hair shining. She was dressed in the shimmering silky clothing that she wore. As always, he was struck by her presence. Awe and a twinge of fear did nothing to curb the hatred he held for her. In fact, his emotions were more volatile and unstable because they were so conflicting. The first time he met her was after his dad beat his mom, giving her cracked ribs, broken fingers, a broken nose and blackened eyes. He was five. His mom, barely able to walk, didn’t have money, or perhaps more accurately, knew his father wouldn’t pay for a doctor visit, so she went to Nana’s house on the mountaintop for help. He and his younger sister went with her. He was amazed by the strong-willed, competent woman called Nana. Byron’s father drilled into him, at an early age, his vicious nature. Might makes right was his mantra. He taught Byron to use force rather than how to work with others or contribute to the community. Following in his father’s footsteps, Byron treated his mother and sister with the same disrespect. His father believed women were born 6

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to serve and if they didn’t, then a man’s job was to physically put her in her place. But Nana, well, she was a beautiful, powerful woman—the opposite of everything a woman was meant to be, according to his father. Byron halfway loved her then, but his father soon had him seeing the truth about her. She was a familywrecker and didn’t know her rightful place. His dad said she would turn his mom against them both and he was right—that is exactly what happened. By the time he was seven, Byron delighted in bullying other kids and frequently tortured animals. When he was ten, he killed his neighbor’s kitten, breaking its neck. He felt powerful and enjoyed the little girl’s tears as she watched, shocked and terrified. He progressively became more dangerous and unstable as the years went by. He saw his mother look at him with disgust in her eyes and he knew it was the work of Nana. His dad was right, she’d turned his mother against him. Byron was fifteen when his dad beat his mother to death in a whiskey-induced rage. He was saddened by the violence done to his mother, but the thought never crossed his mind that his father was wrong. Why couldn’t she just do what he said? He was almost even angry that she caused the fight. He was confused about it all and felt lost 7

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and then three days later his father died of a heart attack. The hot sun beamed down on his head while he stared numbly at his father’s coffin. His cousin, Scottie Jo, leaned over and whispered spitefully that the whole town said Nana killed his father for what his ol’ man did to his mom. It made perfect sense to him. Everyone knew she could do magic. Confusion and sadness rapidly spiraled into hatred at Nana for his parents’ deaths. She was the reason they were dead and he despised her with every fiber of his being. If his mom never went to Nana’s house, she would still be the same and they would still be alive. Nana filled his mother’s head with stupid thinking. It was all her fault. He wanted to kill her in that moment more than he could ever remember wanting anything, but after the funeral, he and his sister left Blue Springs to live with his aunt in the next county. Now, years later, he was ready for revenge and this time, he wasn’t alone. Finally Nana’s shimmering form passed by. Byron watched her gracefully stride up the winding mountain road. Once she disappeared around the switchback, he started the truck and, with no lights on, sped up the mountain—gravel flying wildly. He timed his approach to trap her on the narrow mountain road. One side was a cliff face and the other, a sheer drop off, leaving no 8

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room for her to maneuver an escape. He figured killing her this way wouldn’t leave any evidence. It was the perfect murder, he assured himself. He rounded the gravel road, expecting to see her walking by the cliff face. To his amazement, she stood directly in his path and faced his truck. Her arms were thrown wide with her staff raised high in one hand. Moonlight bathed her face. The most incredible thing he noticed in that split second before his truck struck her was the peaceful smile on her face. She knew, he realized. She knew… In a moment of shock, he steered the truck away from her. Nana’s obvious knowledge of his presence and plan thoroughly unsettled his desire to kill her her, but in a strange, almost intentional quirk of fate, the truck corrected itself like an unseen hand pulled it back on its original path and hit Nana head-on. I regained my senses and the connection between Byron and me diminished as I watched the truck plow into Nana’s body. Byron was so spooked that he slammed the truck straight into the unrelenting cliff face. He smacked his forehead on the steering wheel and passed out immediately while the horn blared in the night. Before unconsciousness settled over him, he mumbled, “Oh well, I killed her after all.” The mountains are a vast network of coves, 9

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hollows, ridges and caves and on a mountaintop, sound travels well. Within thirty minutes, the Blue Springs police department sent a cruiser up to check out the obnoxious noise. The officer called for emergency personnel, but it was too late, my beloved Nana passed on and a disoriented, belligerent Byron was arrested. As he was shoved into the cruiser, I heard the offending, unforgivable words, “So what? She’s jus some ol’ woman?” I couldn’t imagine any other end for Byron, but death…

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Chapter One

I

unlocked the door and entered the home I missed for four years. It was a struggle to breathe around the suffocating knot lodged in my throat. I gazed around, sadly taking in the familiar knickknacks and antiquities that characterized my grandmother’s spacious cabin. Each object brought to mind affectionate memories of a happier, carefree time. Running my fingers over the back of the Victorian sofa, I watched dust motes lazily float in a shaft of sunlight that streamed through the windows. The tranquil smell of lavender hovered in the air, like Nana would walk in at any time. My fingers gripped the wooden scrolls on back of the sofa and my knuckles turned white with pressure. I breathed deep the fragrant air, attempting to restrain my emotions. I pictured Nana in my mind. Her vibrant silver hair braided down her back. The matching silk tunic and pants that she preferred, claiming they 11

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were the most comfortable attire for working, spelling or sleeping. When she wasn’t barefoot, leather Birkenstocks graced her feet along with flaming red toenail polish. Sometimes the color varied, but she always used a striking color. Nana was anything but subtle or bland. She was a slim, attractive woman, at 5’4”, but she portrayed a figure larger than life and far more powerful than her frame belied. My eyes filled when I saw the red dishtowel hanging on the stove. I crocheted it for Nana in home economics class. She worked in the kitchen with it draped over her shoulder as she canned vegetables and made preserves. A sob threatened to break free and I nearly gave in to the overwhelming desire to collapse on the floor in despair. Not yet, I thought with clenched teeth. I took a deep breath and straightened my spine, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears. I would not break down with him here. Alex, the man I tried so hard to forget while I was in California. I breathed again, noting his clean, masculine scent in the midst of my grandmother’s lingering herb aromas. “I’m sorry, Keeley. Nana will be missed by everyone.” His gravelly voice spurred a shiver that slithered down my back. It never failed. His presence reacted like a shockwave through my body. My scalp tightened and my fingers tingled. 12

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Bemused, I noted that nothing changed. No, in fact, lucky for me my reaction to him felt even stronger. Not that I would let him know—once down that road was enough. “Thank you.” I replied roughly, still refusing to glance his way. If I did, the slim hold on my composure would be lost and the last place I wanted to find comfort was in his well-muscled arms. In fact, I managed to make most of the trip from the airport without looking at him or talking to him except for the barest of greetings. It was a blow to see him waiting at baggage claim, dominating the room with his presence. He leaned against a column in the center of the room with his arms crossed and one booted foot propped up, bent at the knee. He wore faded jeans and a dark blue, nearly black, tee shirt. His dark, handsome features screamed danger and he exuded a sex appeal that made women want him at any cost. He was a man that other men were wary of, but women gravitated to despite the consequences. I knew from experience. His stance implied ease, but I noticed his awareness. Nothing in the room escaped his notice, especially not me. He watched every step I took with narrowed eyes. His mouthwatering body and sexy face stirred my blood and made me want what wasn’t mine to have—what would never be mine. Seeing him was just another shock 13

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after the devastating one I already faced. I told myself I went with him simply so I didn’t have to pay for a rental car. Now I regretted not getting the rental. His hand settled softly on my shoulder. His warm breath on my nape sent chills down my back. I swallowed at the shivers his touch invoked and shrugged off his hand, ignoring my tingling body. I stopped next to the mahogany dining room table and dropped my bags on the floor with a loud thump. Celia graciously offered to ship the rest of my belongings in the next few days. “Thanks for the ride Alex. I was glad I didn’t have to rent a car, but now I have Nana’s so I won’t need a ride anymore.” I faced him and hoped he would catch the dismissal in my voice and go. I needed to grieve. And I needed to do that alone because I too easily imagined falling to my knees and begging him to make me forget— and that would be a bad move. I met his gaze and felt a pang deep in my gut. His steely golden eyes, wolf eyes I thought, radiated a frightening intensity and heat that was devastating to my raw senses. Sensation coursed through my body and my nipples hardened. Great. My gaze slid away from his and I frowned at my weakness. I felt his frustration at my evasion. Despite the fact that my shields were securely in place, as 14

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always, they didn’t keep his anger and desire masked. I’m empathic and I learned at an early age to use the mental walls to block out the unending barrage of those I am in proximity of— everyone but Alex that is. I simply can’t block him out. There was a connection made with him four years ago that I haven’t been able to sever. He stared at me through narrowed eyes for several long minutes before he cleared his throat and said, “I’m here if you need me. Number’s by the phone. Keeley…” He broke off and sighed with clenched teeth, apparently deciding to postpone whatever he was going to say. Thank the Goddess. “I’ll see you at the funeral home tonight,” he promised, making the statement a command as he walked out the door. The large stained glass door slammed shut behind him. The windows rattled at his exit. I exhaled, an explosion of air that deflated me, but I stood still until I heard his powerful SUV drive down the mountain road, gravel crunching until he reached the bottom of the driveway. When I no longer heard the rumble of his vehicle, my shoulders drooped and I fell to my knees. I cried harder than I have ever cried. Falling into the fetal position, I released all the despair and sadness kept bottled up, covered by rage. Thirty long minutes later, I rose and wiped my 15

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face on my tank top. I picked up my bags and walked down the long hallway to my room— taking in the pictures that covered the wall along the route. Images of a happy Nana and Pop prompted a smile and I placed a finger on the faces of my youthful-looking parents. There were other portraits of my extended family in Ireland—sophisticated and stunning, my cousins, aunts and uncles posed in front of the impressive drawbridge and castle in one picture, around an inviting pool in another and seated at a long dining table at yet another. They are taken on the family estate in the town of Greystones where my grandmother was born and raised. On the other wall were pictures of my school years from pigtails to long curls. The pictures brought tears to my eyes, but I blinked them away. How sweet of Nana to hang them all. She always made me feel special. I went to my room and dropped the bags by the wardrobe. The antique, white lace spread and bright throw pillows still covered the bed. An assortment of pictures, posters and other teenage accessories filled the room. Nana left my room the way I had it as if waiting on me to come back home. The tears threatened again and I dropped on the bed, exhausted. I rolled on my side. The sun streamed into the room and created a warm, inviting cocoon on my 16

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bedspread. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get through the visitation tonight and the funeral tomorrow. The thought of enduring condolences from well-wishers depressed me further. I wanted to stay in bed and never get up. I felt close to Nana here in our home. Emotionally lower than ever, I raised my head to look for the crystals that I kept on my nightstand. Soothing crystals were what I needed. As I looked at the antique table, I gasped and then a soft smile crossed my weary features. A bouquet of Nana’s fresh flowers sat on the table in the sunlight. I sat up on the bed, reaching for the flowers with trembling fingers, as if they were a lifeline. Holding the small crystal vase in my hands, I brought the flowers to my face and inhaled, taking the fragrance into my lungs. I closed my eyes and let the aroma permeate my senses and mind. A feeling of peace settled over me as I held Nana’s flowers. Did Nana replace these week after week as she did when I lived here? Why would she do that? Nana believed in the healing power of plants and aromas, but she wasn’t wasteful. Every crystal, spell or plant was used for a purpose. Otherwise, it deserved to have its time in the sun, too, as Nana liked to say. I couldn’t imagine Nana putting flowers in my room when I wasn’t here to gain the 17

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benefit of their healing aroma and beauty. Nana abided by a mixture of beliefs. She refused to personally label herself as Wicca, Christian or any other name, instead saying that her beliefs and power came from a time before there were such labels. She believed in God and the power of God’s love and forgiveness, but she also worshipped the Goddess and the power of healing, spells and the moon. She raised me with the same philosophies and beliefs. She was a gifted healer and many called her a witch, although not in a derogatory way. She didn’t mind the term. Humans need labels, she told me once, to know where they fit in relation to others. The town of Blue Springs loved Nana. Many people came to Nana rather than Dr. Lewis, the residing physician. He respected her knowledge and opinion, too—calling to discuss patients and their recovery. As long as I could remember, townspeople came to Nana for remedies, tinctures, soaps, shampoos, candles and crystal jewelry. All of Nana’s creations were handmade. The mountains of Eastern Kentucky provided the knowledgeable woman a plethora of herbs, wildflowers and resources for her craft. Nana’s personal herb garden covered the small clearing behind the cabin. I knew of several different locations in the surrounding mountains where Nana went to pick specific plants or roots, always 18

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rotating her harvesting site so that the resources would be sustainable. She revered and respected nature knowing that we are here by Mother Earth’s good will and not our own accord as so many people assumed and took for granted. Nana was an amazing woman, a true angel with tremendous healing power and a generous, loving spirit. She was a force to be reckoned with and a wielder of powerful magic. She helped mountain folk who had no money for doctors or hospitals with their treatment. She was ninetyseven when she died, but still young, frequently walking the mountains and working her spells. Members of our family live longer than most— if we aren’t killed by an unnatural death, that is, as many have suffered. Nana was ninety-seven, but she aged as if she were in her late forties. The people of Blue Springs accepted the anomaly as they did our talents. Based on past family records, Nana might have lived another hundred years. Anger seared through me that her life was cut short. I squeezed the crystals in my palm. The sharp edges dug into my skin and succeeded in diverting my thoughts from my anger. I realized I wouldn’t honor Nana if I went to her visitation seething with rage. Tonight was a celebration of her goodness and spirit. The rage would come again later and I would welcome it, but for now I 19

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would remember Nana for the magical gift that she was to me and the town of Blue Springs. Along with our magical talent, another family legacy included two books. One was a book of the light and one was a book of shadows. The white book was embossed with gold filigree, the pages were crisp and bright white as if never used. Nana used this book in working her spells and healing magic, yet it looked as though never touched before and if that’s not intriguing enough, it’s been in our family since the beginning. That raises the eyebrow, doesn’t it? Nana once showed me the names of the magicbearers in our family listed in the front of the book. The power was passed from daughter to daughter and there was always only one. While other members of the family were capable of magic, only the daughter’s daughter was the keeper of the books. I was raised with the knowledge that one day my name would be listed in that spot. I guess that time was now. The other book, the dark one, was black and dull. The pages yellowed with age. I remembered seeing Nana use the dark book only one time— after Byron’s father killed his wife, Selma, in a fit of drunken rage. He passed away three days later of a fatal heart attack—natural causes I assumed because of his drinking and dissipated lifestyle. Most of the town’s people were glad he was gone. 20

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He made many of their lives pure hell with his bullying tactics. I touched the book then, those years ago when Selma died, curious of its purpose. Nana slapped my hands firmly telling me not to touch the book until she was no longer alive. I was shocked at her reaction. She warned me to use the book for justice, never for personal gain or revenge. Nana was very adamant in her admonishment and it wasn’t like her to be so firm so I obeyed and never touched the book again. I didn’t want to disrespect the power by using it for personal gain. I was taught that taboo as a young child and abided by the rule vigilantly for fear of angering the Goddess. But I’ll never forget how it felt. Power thrummed against my hand when I rubbed the rough cover and caused my arm to twitch. Years later, I asked Nana about using the book of shadows against Byron’s father. She told me that he molested his daughter, Renee and he was even worse with Selma gone. She prayed to God and the Goddess and was directed to mete out justice. She only despaired of how the elder Malone polluted his son’s mind with his filth and said then that Byron would suffer his father’s sins. I’d forgotten her prophesy until now. Tired beyond words, I dismissed thoughts of the Malones. Despite the yawning emptiness I felt, 21

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it was good to be home. The thought sustained me for another minute before my mind naturally returned to Alex. I surrendered and as I lay there hiding from the world and remembered him as a teenager. He was five years older than me. Nana hired him to help around the house. It was her way to lend financial support to his single mom. He worked odd jobs like fixing the porch steps, painting the fence or rebuilding the drying shed after a hard storm. I was ten when he first came to our mountain to work. I spent sunny days following him around. Love was evident in my eyes, I’m sure. The dark, handsome, muscular young man held an edge of danger and rebellion that thrilled my young heart. I told Nana he was the one for me and she agreed, but warned me that he needed space and time to come to the same conclusion. I’m such an idiot for not seeing the writing on the wall. Unfortunately, I was seventeen and immature. My emotions were intense and consuming. I was in love and he was my world. I couldn’t wait to tell him how I felt—especially since he was considering enlisting. So I laid it all out there…I can still hear the emphatic denial of his love. Words I have never forgotten or recovered from. I sighed and once again rerouted my thoughts. I glanced at the flowers again. Fresh cut red gerbera daisies, white hollyhocks and purple 22

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zinnias filled a crystal vase—as if Nana knew I was going to be here. And why not? I thought, she wielded an uncanny talent for prophesy. Why wouldn’t she know she was to die? Unlike me, her visions came ahead of time so she must have known. I remembered the vision of her death— arms outspread, the peace of her expression, the truck veering into her path after Byron tried to correct it. Yep, she knew—I was suddenly convinced. I’d talked to Nana last week on the phone. She sounded distracted, but she stayed busy so I didn’t consider it extraordinary. She talked about where she discovered new patches of ginseng and how she finally delivered Mary Wood’s baby two and a half weeks late. Before I hung up she told me how proud she was and how I must always remember my legacy—and that she loved me. Recalling the conversation brought tears to my eyes and I realized Nana did indeed know her fate. The call and the flowers were a message to me. With sudden insight I knew she wanted me to find the books, but why all the secrecy? Why not come out and say it? The evil trickling into Blue Springs went far beyond the Malones. There was something greater here—something gathering power—stalking and waiting for the right moment. Nana knew about it 23

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and it killed her—even if Byron was the pawn used to carry it out. How I knew all of this, I’m not sure, but I know I’m right. There’s a battle coming. A sense of urgency filled me. Find the books. They were my heritage and essential to developing my gift. I knew Nana possessed power far beyond what she ever displayed. There was no need and she wasn’t one to waste power. Determination filled me to wield it as wisely, cautiously and judiciously as she. I went to college in California at Nana’s urging. I was content to stay in Kentucky and go to UK— close to home. Nana was the one who insisted that I go across the country—so I could breathe, she said. She believed that I needed space to grow before I came back home. “Every woman needs to grow in her own way, Keeley. I don’t want to influence that part of you that makes you who you are. The Goddess will do that, but you need to be on your own and you can’t do it two hours away in Lexington because you’ll come home every weekend. You need space and you need distance. I’ll be here when you return as the wonderful woman I know you’ll be.” But she wasn’t here, I thought. She knew she wasn’t going to be here—it’s why she insisted I go so far away. I sighed and glanced at the clock. It was time to shower and prepare for the visitation. I dreaded dealing with it. I didn’t want to face 24

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the idea of never seeing her again—never talking to her. I didn’t want to face everyone’s sympathy. It would be a struggle to maintain my composure, but I would because I didn’t want to grieve in front of an audience. I looked forward to getting back home tonight—where I felt surrounded by Nana—where I would search for the books.

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Chapter Two

A

lex sauntered through the front doors of the funeral home just as Mrs. Olinger crushed me against her bountiful bust. I caught his smirk and mentally damned him. Did he have to look so fucking perfect? Mrs. Olinger grabbed my attention from Alex when she put her hand on my cheek. “Keeley, dear, you know Nana meant the world to my family. She treated Henry for his heart ailments and he’s still kickin’ today. I don’t know what we are going to do with her passin’ on. She’s kept this town healthy, I tell ya. Now, I know she’s taught you everythin’. We all hopin’ you are gonna’ come back here and carry on her work. Not that you want to think about that right now, dear, but you know that Blue Springs is your home. We need you and your gift. You have your place here, dear, don’t forget that as you make your decisions.” She patted me on the cheek and gave me one 26

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more squeeze before she moved on to the food table. The local women’s church group filled the table to overflowing with salads, coleslaw, fried pork chops, chili, casseroles, watermelon and punch. Bless them. Plastic plates, forks, napkins and cups littered all available surfaces in the funeral home. Visitations and funerals in Eastern Kentucky were social affairs and everyone turned out for them, especially for someone as well-loved as Nana. I was pleased that so many came to honor her. I knew that she would be happy that so many people cared and appreciated what she did for them. I sighed wearily. I was tired of standing and greeting. My feet ached in the high-heel shoes. I wore a slim black sheathe I bought in California. It was fine when I picked it up on the west coast. Now it felt out of place and I wished I had on jeans and a tank top. The dress was working for Alex if his heated gaze was any indication— maybe it was worth the absurd amount I paid for it. He stood in a corner speaking with a friend, but he kept an eye on me at all times. Despite my duties in the receiving line, I managed to always know where he stood. I didn’t like that realization. I was supposed to avoid him, not keep track of his whereabouts. I mean really, he even looked lethal in a 27

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harmless setting like the funeral home. The air around him vibrated with an awareness and nonstop potential explosive reaction. His gaze looked…ready, territorial and possessive. I swallowed at the feelings that look aroused. As I murmured some greeting and shook hands with another lady from church, I remembered the intensity of the passion I felt in his arms and the things we did on that summer night. That was before he made a fool of me. I hugged someone else and shut the door on that train of thought. I shook hands with Mr. Talbot. After four hours, the line dwindled down and I was ready to get home. I felt a zing of awareness lift the hair on the nape of my neck. I realized Alex now stood behind me. I looked at him, striving to show none of the turmoil inside. I was so tired. The flight, exhaustion, hunger and sorrow wore me down. I smelled the home-cooked food on the table and my belly growled in response. “I’ll get food for you,” he stated, without asking—attempting to take over in his typical male manner. “No, thank you.” I didn’t want to eat here and didn’t appreciate him pushing his way back into my life as if he didn’t devastate me and simply walk away four years ago. It was none of his business if I ate or not, he gave up that right! 28

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Unfortunately, this wasn’t the place to air these thoughts. He placed his hand on my lower back, still trying to control me. “Keeley, you need to eat,” he said firmly. I pulled my arm from his grasp and he let me go—not wanting to make a scene any more than I did. “Look, Alex,” I whispered furiously. “I will eat when I get back. Mrs. Olinger and the ladies have already boxed some up for me. I’m not going to eat here so back off. And let me point out that it’s none of your business if I eat or not. Don’t worry about it. And stop trying to be my friend.” “Keeley…” Alex growled as he grabbed my wrist with his other hand, obviously getting ready to lay down the law when Mr. Arin Solen stepped up in line. I stiffened instinctively and Alex shifted to stand in front of me, going from angry with me to protective of me in a second flat. Strangely I noticed him bare his teeth—and even they were sexy, white and glistening and strangely long in the eyeteeth. I looked at him oddly. He seemed…wolfish. Solen always provoked that effect in me and Alex picked up on it. Nana didn’t like him either and warned me to stay away from him and his property on the neighboring mountaintop. He reached a gnarled hand out to grasp mine, but Alex wrapped his arm around my shoulders, 29

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covering my clasped hands in a show of support and condolence. Solen dropped his hand and his lips tightened to a thin line. “Very sorry about your grandmother, my dear. I’m sure the town will miss her.” His tone insinuated that he would not. He gazed into my eyes and I felt a brief moment of disorientation. Maybe I did need to eat. “Will you move back to Blue Springs?” he inquired attentively. “Of course, Mr. Solen. Where else would I go?” I stated with firm resolve and defiance. I lifted my chin and faced him directly. “I know kids these days,” he explained with a conciliatory smile. “They long for big cities and culture.” “There is as much culture here,” I defended, “as anywhere in the world. This is my home. I am back to stay.” “Well, if you ever decide to leave the mountain. Keep me in mind—I’ll buy.” “Mr. Solen, my grandmother just passed away. I don’t think now is the time,” I said, offended. “Of course, my dear, of course. My condolences,” he replied falsely, smiling as he turned and walked out of the funeral home. “Excuse me,” Alex whispered in my ear, striding out the door after him. I sighed. I didn’t want him to come to my rescue. I stared after him 30

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another second and then decided he was a big boy and I didn’t have the energy to worry about it. I valiantly greeted the rest of the visitors. After loading the boxes of food in the trunk of Nana’s Volvo, I left the funeral home and headed up my mountain. I didn’t see Alex again and I wondered if he exchanged words with Solen. I smirked as I noted that yet again, my mind drifted to him. He looked so sexy and an air of danger clung to him as he moved about the funeral home in his dark suit and long, dark hair. His striking golden eyes with their heated glances made me cream just thinking about them and his tall, muscular body was enough to make a woman melt. Sighing, I blanked my mind, easy to do since I was so tired, and pulled up in front of the cabin. I got out and stood with the light of the moon streaming down upon me. I lifted my face and closed my eyes as I raised my arms to the moon. The healing love of the Goddess washed over me, leaving me with a warm tingle. I inhaled the pungent mountain aroma, grateful to be home, even in the midst of heartbreak. “Nana, I feel you here, but I still miss you,” I whispered and felt a breeze ruffle my hair and dress. I smiled, knowing her spirit was with me. The darkness tried to take her from me, but she’s still got my back. Nana would guide me in the 31

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days to come. It took two trips to the car before I finally got the food put away in the refrigerator and freezer. I placed a cold pork chop and potato salad on a paper plate—then poured a glass of Nana’s potent homemade wine. Stripping out of my shoes and dress, I dropped them on the kitchen table and then sat down on the sofa in my silk panties to eat a late dinner and unwind. With the lights turned off in the cabin and the moon pouring in, I relaxed for the first time in two days. I ate my fill, licking my fingers free of grease and felt almost normal again. I sauntered to my room and pulled my silk robe from my unpacked bag. I put it on, enjoying the feel of it against my skin. I admitted Alex’s nearness made me restless and edgy—all right I was horny. Eager to begin my quest and get my mind off Alex, I went to Nana’s bedroom. I set my glass on the nightstand and sat on the soft bed. I ran my fingers over the homemade quilt. I remembered Nana sitting in the chair with this quilt draped over her lap while she knitted it. I looked around the room where so much of her personality was reflected. I smiled to see the shimmering photos that I took in California of the infamous bridge above her bed. The dusk scene of the bridge and the water sparkling below was striking. I simply 32

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mailed her the ten by thirteen prints, but she framed them—honoring my gift to her. I stretched out on the bed. Nana’s love surrounded me. I felt Nana’s spirit again as I did outside. As I gazed around the room, Where did you keep the books Nana? You already know, my girl, she instructed with a soft reply. And suddenly, I did. I went to the round table, covered with a lace tablecloth. I lifted candles and crystals from the surface and removed the tablecloth. Bending down, I ran my hands around the bottom of the table and then I felt it—a small drawer. I opened the tiny, hidden drawer and pulled out the single key and smooth wooden stick—Nana’s wand. A smile crossed my lips. “I’ll do you proud, Nana,” I whispered the promise to us both. Armed with the wand and key, I looked at the pictures—The Gate, at dusk—I titled it in stenciled letters. I eyed them closely and moved the top one aside. It looked like an uninterrupted wall. On a whim, I pointed the stick at the wall and invoked a spell for clarity. Admittedly, a smug smile appeared when the safe constructed in the wall became visible. It was solid silver and large enough for two books. I slid the key into the lock. It turned and clicked and I smiled again. A thrill ran through my blood. Nana pushed me on. 33

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I swung open the safe door and found a leather hide bundle. Reverently, I lifted the package out. I sat down on the bed and opened the leather covering, the silk robe draped off one shoulder as I tucked my long legs under me. The light and dark books were together with a letter addressed to me on top. Nana. My hands trembled as I pulled the letter out of the envelope. The red fingernail polish reminded me of blood as I opened the letter. A sense of foreboding washed away the feeling of light and I turned to Nana’s words hoping to find comfort. Keeley, The daughter of my heart, you have been aware of your legacy from birth. You know you are special, as are all the daughters of my family. We come from a long line of gifted females. Witches, many call us, goddesses, some called us in ancient times, but we are always the same—powerful and talented with the ways of nature, healing and love. We have lost many of our gifts over the ages, but it is there for each daughter if she finds the right man to share the power. He opens the heart to love, allowing nature to release all of our gifts. You will be able to control the elements and Mother Nature, herself, if you can be whole and pure of heart. You must do that, darling. You must open your heart and allow someone to love you. You know who that is… While I’ve tried to be real with you about who you 34

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are, what I haven’t told you about is the darker legacy that haunts our family. I didn’t want you to face that burden so young like I did—like we all have in my family. Now it is time for you to know and time to believe—so I’ll tell you the tale the same way that my mother told me. It is said that one of first females in our clan was very beautiful, enchantingly so. Men who saw her desired her and wanted her for their own. The same could be said for the demon that fell in love with her as she danced one morning in a field of flowers. He came to her in human form and courted her each day as they met in the forest glen. She exchanged kisses with him and talked as they lay among the flowers and walked in the woods. The demon watched her when she wasn’t with him. He saw her in the village, harmlessly flirting with suitors. He knew many vied for her hand and he grew jealous and possessive. To assure her love for him alone, he thought to give her his greatest gift. He granted the maiden and all her descendants the skill of magic. It was a wondrous gift and she laughed and hugged him and expressed her delight at her new talents. But though she was fond of the lad from the forest, her father betrothed her to the heir of the largest landholder in the village. He was young and fine and would provide a life of comfort for her. She obeyed her father’s wishes and married the young man—never returning to the forest glen. On their wedding night, the demon visited the 35

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blissful couple. In the frightening guise of full demon glory, he cursed their daughter and every daughter of every generation to face his wrath. He comes in different forms with different ploys to entrap us, but the important thing to remember is that he comes. He has either killed or enslaved or been defeated by each keeper of the book for thousands of years. I have gone on to a place he cannot use my age against us. I am so sorry to leave you to face this, but it was my time—I have foreseen this death for years. If I didn’t take this path, we would have battled and he would have defeated me. Then he would have taken you. At least in this manner, I can pass on my power to you and not the demon for he is close. I feel him nearby. The evil is gathering. Unfortunately, my death means he will turn his sights to you, but I have faith in you, Keeley. You see there is a bit of hope linked to the curse. Over three hundred years ago, one of our ancestors was a seer, a prophet. In a deep trance, she spoke of an end to the demon’s curse. In her words, the demon will be forever destroyed by the sorceress mated to the wolf. I’ll leave you with that thought. I love you. Nana Isabella Delania Isoncortue A tear dropped onto the stationary and left a round spot on the paper. It dropped out of my hands, unheeded to the floor. A lifetime of 36

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whispered conversations and haunted looks suddenly made sense. I remembered the heated family phone calls about Nana and I moving back to the family stronghold. They wanted us to move to Greystones, the town where they lived, where we would be safe in the family castle. They never understood my grandmother’s and my parents’ need for the independence and freedom of the United States. They scorned her for a lack of concern about the danger we faced. My greataunts and cousins didn’t understand her refusal to live in the safety and comfort, not to mention the wealth and privilege, of the centuries-old castle, family estate and powerful name. I sniffed and rubbed my face free of moisture. What should I do? Should I contact the family in Ireland? Can’t they feel Nana’s death or were we written off entirely? I took the books into the living room and turned off all the lights along the way. With Nana’s wand, I gestured to the fireplace and the numerous candles murmuring flamma. Soon a soft glow lit the room. Taking a sip of the wine, I opened the white book and flipped through the pages. I admired the illustrations and beautiful, calligraphy-style font. I marveled as I looked through the book knowing I was looking at the spells of my ancestors. Antidotes and spells added by each one, with their own personality and talents portrayed in their 37

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additions. I felt a personal kinship with these women for the first time in my life. Nana taught me about my legacy. She told me stories about her sisters, brothers, parents, cousins and grandparents, but it wasn’t until now I felt connected on a personal level to my ancestors and family. I flipped some more and browsed the healing spells. The ancient words and deeds were familiar since I saw Nana conjure them frequently. Memories of her twisting these spells warmed me and that realization prompted the thought percolating in my mind since talking to Mrs. Olinger at the funeral home. Should I practice the arts for the people of Blue Springs as Nana did? I would quickly become enmeshed in all their troubles, but I would also celebrate their triumphs. Nana devoted her time and heart to this town. Shouldn’t I do the same? I already felt the need to protect them from the insidious evil gathering here. Why not surrender to the true call within me? I set the glittering book of light aside and opened the dark one. The power surged when my hands touched it. It opened to the most remarkable page. Vivid hand-drawn images of fire and a life-like dragon’s head rising out of the flames were emblazoned on the pages. My eyes widened. Dragon Fire was the title of the page in 38

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its fine detail. You might be wondering why my family possessed a dark book. Well I guess all I can say is the line between light and dark isn’t always clear. This line is like everything else in life, there’s a lot of gray area and sometime we just have to pick a side because it’s hard to tell what’s right and wrong. And sometimes you have to do bad things for the greater good. I turned back to the white book and flipped to one of the first pages, calling fire. It was a simple spell that I’ve been able to conjure since I was three. I read the spell and recalled when Nana first taught me how to call the flame. Basically, you focus your wand or your object of power. It can be a talisman or anthame. Anyway, you point it and then invoke the spell—flamma, or incendia for a more explosive flame. Memories of Nana teaching me spells and healing filtered through my mind. They were happy times. Oh, Nana, I wish you were here. I closed my eyes and felt a light breeze surround me, lifting tendrils of my hair. I am here with you. Trust your instinct. You’ll know what to do. I will be here when you most need me. The feeling of warmth eased away. “Nana, don’t go.” Knock. Knock. I choked back a scream and nearly laughed at 39

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my foolishness. I was spooked for sure. Unfortunately, my nervousness didn’t get any better when I realized who waited at the door. Damn.

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Chapter Three

I

looked at him through the large windows. The light wasn't on, but the clusters of candles illuminated the room enough to see. I imagined what I looked like—naked with only the short silk robe for cover—bathed in candlelight. For a brief rebellious moment, I wanted him to see me, to desire me after he so callously rejected me years ago. Not that I wanted to go there again, but it wouldn't hurt for him to want something he couldn't have, for once. I realized such thinking was petty and I was a better person than that. “Yeah, right,” I snorted. I wasn't going to forget how he hurt me, but I didn’t need to hurt him back. Right? No, it was better to keep things casual. Besides, he wasn't going away I acknowledged ruefully. Gritting my teeth at his persistence, I defiantly glared at him, but still walked to the door. My bare feet were warm on the hardwood and the thought crossed my mind that answering the 41

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door naked and barefoot was far too intimate and underdressed for a man like Alex. What was I doing? His gaze trapped me even as he stood outside, practically willing me to open the door. Then I noticed his eyes glowed and my heart skipped a beat. He looked like a predator. I told myself it was a trick of the light but apprehension filled me and I paused. He saw my hesitation and pressed a long hand to the glass. “Let me in, Keeley.” His gravelly voice raked across my spine, demanding. My knees shook. The man would tempt an angel…or the devil. I took a deep breath and unlocked the door, knowing that even if I didn't, it wouldn’t keep him out. I turned my back on him as he entered, not ready to face him and honestly, I was a bit intimidated. He looked dangerous and like he wanted to throw me up against a wall and fuck me. The thought made my breath shallow. I subtly kicked the books underneath the couch since I wasn’t ready to talk to Alex about any of this. I faced him with the sofa dividing us and my arms folded defensively across my chest. His eyes glittered in the firelight. The message in his gaze made me swallow, both anxious and eager at the same time. He was much harder than the young man he 42

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was four years ago. He reminded me of a lethal tiger…or perhaps a wolf would be a more accurate description. The changes in Alex were devastating to my senses. Four years ago, he was a hot, young, rebellious teenage boy, now he was a predator, a killer. It was in his eyes—the knowledge of death, delivering it. Despite my innate need to escape the predator before me, my body didn’t listen—it swayed in his direction. His tantalizing body and comforting presence was almost impossible to resist. I turned back to the fire, fighting my weakness. I felt him close behind me and I closed my eyes, then stopped breathing—praying that he wouldn’t touch me. His hands fell on my shoulders. The silk robe softened the masculine, callused hands that held me so confidently. Fire spread through my body at his touch and a door was thrown wide. The connection between us strengthened and locked in. I became soaked and squeezed my legs together, then felt the astonishing depth of his need. My body instantly radiated pure, unadulterated want and desire. Suddenly, captivatingly, my mind became his and I heard his every thought, felt his every sensation and listened to his every need. Never was a connection as strong as this one. He was the other half of me. Involuntarily and without his 43

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knowledge, I eavesdropped on his thoughts. **** He’d waited too long for her to come back. He nearly went to California so many times to bring her back home, but Nana encouraged him rather convincingly to let her come back on her own. He steered his mind away from the past and focused on the fact that she was finally where he wanted her. Well, he acknowledged, not quite. When she was tied to a bed, he would be happy. He inhaled her scent into his body—a soulstirring aroma that he never forgot. He rubbed his cheek against her locks and marked her with his own scent. The urge to taste her essence and cover her in his was uncontrollable. He ached to pin her down and fuck her until she screamed. Fierce triumph filled him that she was his again. Her unfortunate loss would not stop him from using the situation to his advantage. Nana wanted them together. She wasn’t going back to California. She was his mate. He knew it the first moment he saw her when she was ten and the voice inside him screamed mine, but he tried to save her from it. Nana knew what he was and knew of their feelings for each other, and she never discouraged it—that used to surprise him. He didn’t feel 44

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worthy of Keeley back then. He fought the attraction, unsure of himself and the carnivorous power at his fingertips, especially since his father, who was just like him, died before he was born— under suspicious circumstances. His mother was the one who found his mutilated body on the far edge of their property. After his father was gone, his mother changed. The death of her mate left a void in her soul that she never recovered from. Alex watched her sink into depression and a joyless existence, though she never stopped loving him. He understood, even as a young boy, that she didn’t want to live—that she waited, existed until he was old enough to be independent. His mother raised him with the knowledge of what his father was—what he himself would become one day. He grew up knowing that when he reached adulthood he would experience his first painful conversion along with a new life and frightening challenges—wielding horrific power. His mother encouraged him not to fear the future, to embrace his gift, but how could he? With no one to guide him and no clear idea of what to expect, he saw himself as a monster. He couldn’t conceive a normal life and then he met Keeley. Understanding his conflict, his mother sent him to Nana. While not a wolf, she was otherworldly. The whole town whispered she was not human. 45

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His mother figured Nana could help him come to terms with his situation better than she. The days working on the mountaintop with the magical women did help, but after he watched his mother fade away after the death of her mate—he couldn’t do the same to Keeley—the beautiful, magical, innocent, full-of-life, young woman, who unfortunately for her, was his mate. Leaving her nearly killed him. Hurting her nearly made him insane. He told himself it was the best way so she would forget him and move on. At first, his health declined just like his mother. Then he experienced his first change. His body instantly grew harder, taller and broader. He bounced back physically from the separation, but mentally he began to lose control. He joined the DEA as an undercover agent in South America. He lived on the edge, hoping for death and a release for Keeley. When death never came and the years passed by, he could no longer escape fate. His body was trained as a lethal killing machine and his grip on the madness was steadily eroding. The only way to maintain control was to find and claim his mate. After the emotional death of his partner, he retired and went back to Kentucky, a harder, infinitely more dangerous man—only to find his mate was in California. That was six months ago and it nearly killed him to wait for her. Nana 46

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promised him numerous times that she was coming home. Satisfaction that she was in his arms filled him. He imagined showing up on her doorstep in California, demanding that she come back to him. He would have forced her, there’s no doubt. Despite the tragic circumstances, he couldn’t thank the moon goddess enough that she was where she belonged—where she would stay, he resolved. He breathed in her erotic fragrance. Memories of his fingers gliding over her young, soft skin and her passionate response made him ache for her. He should be compassionate to her grief and not force this tonight, but he couldn’t let her go. He needed his mate now or he was going to turn feral on someone. **** The intensity of his need finally broke the connection between us. I blinked rapidly several times, bemused by the bizarre experience of such an intimate connection. I understood Alex better after the mental trip, but I’m not sure what he meant by his first conversion or turning feral. My mind leads me to obvious conclusions if I consider prophesy, but it’s still farfetched. He turned me to face him and grasped my hair. 47

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Desire curled into me and my gut clenched. My mind was definitely back in the moment. Thank Goddess. His thoughts were no more specific than a red haze of lust. His lips met mine with a forcefulness that thrilled me. I didn’t want this emotional tangle, but I can’t resist when he comes at me like this. I met other men in college and tried to kick Alex out of my thoughts. They were okay, but none of them inspired my body or my heart, like Alex. I moaned as one strong hand palmed my ass over the soft silk. He pressed me to his dick. Oh Goddess. I felt moisture between my legs. How do you say no to such intoxicating sensuality? He put his hand between my legs and slid inside my silk panties. A growl rumbled deep in his chest when he felt the wetness there. A long finger thrust inside of me. My heart raced and I almost felt the blood rush through my body. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back in surrender. Long hair flowed in a cascade over the hand still clenched tight to control my escape. Not that I thought of doing so. The sting of the captured strands only made me squirm more and made my desire flare hotter. His lips trailed down to my neck, licking and biting the tendon there. A spasm passed through my body. I was so close to climax. The rhythm of his finger pumping between my 48

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legs sent me higher and higher. I moaned in protest when he pulled away and picked me up. Then I moaned in delight when I wrapped my legs around his waist and felt his hard cock press against me. I was nearly insane to have him inside of me. "I need you now, Keeley." His voice was rough, husky and demanding— shivers passed down my spine. I nodded in agreement, unable to speak. I was slightly bemused by the fact that I lost whatever resistance against him I resolved to maintain, but honestly I should have known I wouldn't say no. He maneuvered us behind the couch and pressed me face first over the back. His strong hand was warm and firm against my back. I felt his hard body against my own and rubbed my ass back and forth against his cock. He growled again and I heard his pants unzip. Hands grabbed my hips as he thrust hard and deep inside of me. I screamed from the shock of his intrusion. The pleasure-pain was overwhelming and sensations raced through me. I felt full of him. This was so different from the slow loving we experienced my first time with him many years ago. I loved the gentleness of it then and I loved the roughness of it now. He pounded me against the couch and I pushed back against him, wanting more. He felt so good and I didn't ever want to 49

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stop. He leaned over my back and sucked the skin on my shoulder. Warm tingles spiraled from the spot. I cried out when he bit me sharply and that did it. I surrendered and climaxed so hard and long that I nearly passed out. He growled while he kept his teeth locked on my shoulder. His long, thick cock pounded into my body. He reached around me to rub my clit and used his other hand to capture my nipple. The combined attack forced another draining climax. He exploded inside me then and amazingly, it was as if he only grew bigger. He slammed into me until his climax poured into my body. I awoke on a blanket on the floor, the fire blazed. Oh Goddess. My body felt used and sore, but more satisfied than ever. I tried to sit up, but the muscular male arm around my waist pinned me down. "Lay down," he ordered. I breathed a sigh and turned to face him. It was time to face the music… “Alex,” I said preparing to explain my capitulation and how it wasn’t going to happen again—despite the connection that felt so right. Denial reared its ugly head again and I ran with it. He placed a finger against my lips. “Shhh,” he whispered, staring at me, his gaze held a certain satisfaction and male triumph that wasn’t there before. “You needed this and I needed this. Don’t 50

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explain it away. It is what it is and it’s going to happen again.” He promised intently. “You needed consolation and affirmation of life and I needed you. Don’t regret it—because I don’t.” “That’s a big change from how you felt before.” I sounded a tad petulant and hated myself for it, but the doubts and pain were still there. “That was four years ago. We’re both different people now. I was wrong then and you are wrong now. We’ve always been meant for each other. We both know it even though we’ve tried to deny it, the way you are trying now.” I shook my head and closed my eyes. This emotional rollercoaster I rode was exhausting. His fingers sifted through my hair and glided over my cheek. My gaze met the heat of his again. His golden body was beautiful. He was truly the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. Brad Pittand-Colin Farrell-handsome, but unlike the celebrities, Alex exuded a dangerous appeal, one that proclaimed him a powerful male who takes what he wants. My nipples hardened just looking at him. His fingers trailed over the hard points, the look in his eyes knowing. “Now that we are together again, we have to stay that way,” he growled. “This is stronger than either of us can resist, even if we wanted to, which I don’t,” he pointed out with raised brows. “Yeah and when you dump me again, it will be 51

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even harder,” I replied defensively. I didn’t like admitting how he hurt me the last time, but maybe I should tell him. He leaned up on one elbow, the reflection of the fire blazed in his golden eyes. “I won’t leave you again,” he promised. “You’re my mate and you don’t understand the implications of that yet, but you will.” He promised in a don’t-fuck-with-meit’s-settled tone. He leaned over and kissed me without giving me a chance to dispute him. He trailed his lips down my body and it was forgotten. I moaned when he sucked my nipple into his warm mouth. I felt it all the way between my legs. Then he nipped the hard tip and the slight pain aroused me even more. He held me down on the blanketed floor while he made love to me and I tossed my head back and forth as the sensations overwhelmed me. Alex trapped my hands and went between my legs. I closed my eyes as I waited for it, anticipated. I tried to free my hands to touch him, but he was too strong and they remained captured. The bondage thrilled me. He shouldered my legs apart and my breath caught when he nipped my inner thigh. He liked to bite me and admittedly, it made me crazy. He was the most seductive creature ever born. I watched him—the muscles rippling in his back 52

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and long hair flowing over one large shoulder. Goddess. Never before have I seen a more primal example of a sexual male. I mean, really, show me a woman that would deny this sex god. If you find one, tell her she’s a stronger woman than I. He licked, swirled and sucked me until I moaned long and low in climax. My body bucked and pressed against his face. I felt consumed. My body tingled and writhed, controlled only by his will. He leaned up and over me, then bit my shoulder softly and sat up against the couch. He pulled me into his lap and wrapped my legs around his waist. Strong hands guided my hips down onto his cock. His fingers clenched my skin when he thrust hard into me. He suckled my nipples while he lifted me up and down upon him. My head fell back in ecstasy like a silk curtain over his muscled legs. He growled and increased the pace. My breasts bounced as he thrust into me harder and harder. Another climax approached and I was amazed at how right this tender assault felt. No other man could do this for me and in that moment, I realized I never stopped loving him and likely never would. I moaned and wrapped my arms around his head. With my fingers threaded into his hair, I bent down and grabbed his earlobe with my teeth. I pressed into him. His thrusts hit that perfect spot 53

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inside me and my clit rubbed against his belly in a delicious dance that I couldn’t stand anymore. He growled my name and that sexy rumble sent me over the edge. I pressed my nails into his back as I soared into space and, after a few more hard thrusts, felt him come in me. I collapsed against his chest. He breathed hard as he stroked his hands gently on my back. He gathered my hair in one hand, lifted my chin with a finger and kissed me softly. He stood up, holding me with his amazing strength and carried me to my room. I fell asleep spooned in his arms and for the moment, at peace.

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Chapter Four

I

woke to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. The events of the day and night before flashed through my mind. Oh hell. What have I done? I sighed as I realized that once again I’d opened myself to heartache. I hated vulnerability and I let myself get to that place again. If he denied our relationship a second time, I would be even more devastated than before. I stiffened when I realized I loved the jerk more than ever. The water turned off and I scrambled out of bed. My robe was apparently still in the living room in front of the fireplace. Damn. I hurriedly tiptoed out of the room and gathered the wayward robe, sliding it on for some sort of protection against his potency. Facing him naked in bed didn’t seem the best move. I folded the neglected blanket on the floor and cleaned the empty wine glass. I started water for hot tea and popped two pieces of toast into the toaster. I rummaged in the refrigerator until I 55

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found Nana’s homemade blackberry preserves. I sat at the kitchen table, both hands wrapped around a warm mug when he walked in…in a sheriff’s uniform. He’s a cop. Silently I poured him a cup. He sat down at the table and stared at me. I practically felt his gaze burn a hole in my backside. “When did you become a cop?” I questioned to break the silence while I added two more pieces to the toaster. I thought it might distract him from what I know he wanted to discuss—our relationship. “When I came back to town, six months ago,” he answered. “The sheriff, Doug Combs just had a heart attack and was forced to retire so he asked me to run for the position. I did and I won. I have the experience and I needed a job so here I am. It pays the bills.” Nana told me she heard he joined the DEA. “What is your experience? Where were you before you came back here?” I watched him, curious about his years away from Blue Springs. “I was in South America, working undercover. It was hell. My partner was killed there and I, well, I sort of lost myself. Anyway, after that I was done. I retired and came back home,” he said, effectively closing the discussion. Obviously it was a disturbing time for him that he didn’t care to relive, but the effects of that time were clearly 56

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reflected in Alex—in the hardness of his body, in the ruthlessness of his gaze and in the cold strength of his will. “Did you speak to Solen last night?” I asked, changing the topic. “No,” he said suspiciously. “Oddly enough, he was gone. I walked out right after him and didn’t find him anywhere—I searched the entire parking lot. Anyway, he must have had a ride waiting for him outside. So,” he said with a slow drawl. “Stop trying to distract me, how are you feeling this morning?” he inquired in a neutral voice. I shrugged and placed his mug and toast in front of him. The fragrant steam rose in tendrils as I settled back at the table. I pushed the jelly spoon to him and, with a rueful shake of his head at my avoidance, he opened the jar of preserves and spread it over his toast. I did the same and we both ate quietly. I enjoyed the domestic scene even knowing it wouldn’t last. He wanted to talk and I didn’t, so conflict was ahead. “Keeley, talk to me,” he finally said as if he couldn’t take the silence any longer. “You can’t ignore what we have. I know you are dealing with loss, I am, too, but we have to face what’s between us.” I believed him when he spoke of dealing with Nana’s loss. He grieved over Nana’s death. She was like a second mother to him. “I know,” I said 57

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quietly “but right now, I can’t make any lasting decisions. I just need to get through each day.” “I understand that, but you should also understand that I’m not going away and I won’t settle for less than total commitment from you. I’ll leave you with that thought since I have to go to work. I’ll be here to pick you up for the funeral a little after noon.” He rinsed his empty mug and plate, then picked up his keys. “I can drive myself,” I contradicted only to be interrupted. “No,” he ground out harshly. Then in a low, firm voice he said, “I’ll drive you there. Be here when I come to get you, Keeley. There is still more to come. We both know that Byron is only a pawn in this and don’t pretend that you don’t feel it. Don’t go against me on this,” he warned. He strode out the door. I didn’t bother refuting his highhandedness, but I did fume a bit about it. In a temper, I cleaned the dishes and wiped the counters and table. I poured another cup of tea and made my way onto the back patio. How did he know about Byron and the evil in Blue Springs? I plopped down in the cushioned lawn chair. He just barges in and assumes he has the right to order me around. Though fully aware of the dire times ahead, I am still capable of driving myself to the funeral home. And what is he going to do, stay 58

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with me every minute? Puh-lease. I sighed harshly and inadvertently remembered the ecstasy of last night. My body tingled thinking about it. There was something supernatural about him now that wasn’t there when we were young. His growls, his power and flashing eyes reminded me of a wolf. My mouth watered just thinking of how many times he made me climax. Could prophesy be real? I took another drink of the soothing tea and tried to reason through the chaos of my life. I gazed at Nana’s flowers and herbs and suddenly remembered the books hastily kicked under the couch. Talk about distracted…I made a beeline inside and crouched down to peek under the couch. I gathered the books to my chest and shut myself in the study. This was my favorite room. Aromatic dried herbs and chimes hung from the wood rafters in a room that was lined with shelves of books on three sides. A large antique desk and leather chair occupied the center of the room with a plush fainting couch next to large windows along one wall. A dark red throw was laid across the couch. Three hours later, my eyes were tired from reading. It was time to get ready for the funeral. I wrapped the books in their leather cover and returned them back to their safe. I replaced the ward guarding them against discovery. 59

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While I took my shower, I pondered what I read. The depth of my family’s power was astonishing. I had a vague idea, but the full extent of the feminine magic was truly delightful. The spells and amount of ancient wisdom imparted in the text was staggering and I looked forward to resuming where I left off. I dressed in a black linen pantsuit and blazer with a red camisole underneath the jacket. Red high heels completed the outfit. I put on light makeup and twisted my hair up in a knot using Nana’s wand. I wanted it close by. I put on the crystal earrings and necklace that Nana made for me and closed my eyes when I felt her presence. In the closed space of the bathroom, a slight breeze touched my cheeks. “Hi, Nana,” I whispered. I gathered my purse and crystals, then froze when I sensed a presence stalking down the hall. From behind my bedroom door, I pushed my will in the direction of the intruder, seeking. It was Alex. Relief, irritation and arousal warred inside me. “How did you get in?” I asked curiously. I remembered locking the doors before going into the study. He raised one sexy eyebrow as if to say, are you serious? The man was truly a force to be reckoned with. He leaned against the wall, his powerful arms crossed in black Armani that you just can’t buy in Blue Springs. 60

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He was as handsome as sin and oh, so tempting. His clean masculine scent tightened my lower body and I detected just a hint of something wild and feral about him that made me breathe a little faster. It was so not the right time for such salacious thoughts. His gaze was knowing and seductive. Those swirling gold eyes saw straight through me. He’s the only one whose gaze ever bewitched me so. It was one of confidence, intelligence, capability and hunger. Always hunger. “Are you ready for this?” he inquired, distracting me from my thoughts. He referred to the funeral. “As ready as I can be,” I admitted. “She’s with me. I feel her around me,” I said as I waved my hand in the air. “She gives me strength.” He smiled, reached out to a tendril that escaped my knot and swept it behind my ear. “There’s no doubt Nana will always be with you.” He took my arm and we went out in the bright sunshine. The air on the mountain was cool and clean. I smelled the trees when I took a deep breath and raised my arms toward the blue sky. I whispered the Gaelic chant that I learned this morning in the books—that from what I gathered loosely translated to—we are earth, fire, water and air, and together we are one. A gentle breeze blew around us, though not a 61

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single tree on the ridge moved. The spirit of the Goddess called to me and came in the form of a small whirlwind sweeping the two of us in a windy cocoon. Our hair rose in the air of the warm, loving magic. After but a moment, it eased and settled. In that brief moment, I felt the feminine power of my family—those still alive and those that have gone before—connected through me. With a smile I recognized the loving hand of Nana and my mother. Alex looked at me, intensity and fierce emotion evident in his gaze. “I love you, Keeley. You’re amazing and extraordinary and your soul is pure and,” he continued in a tone thick with satisfaction, “you are mine.” I smiled and kissed his lips softly. We made our way down the mountain for our goodbyes to the physical remains of Nana. The funeral was a short and very moving service. Ellen, the Presbyterian preacher who was good friends with Nana presided over the services. As a tribute, she asked people whose lives were touched by Nana to stand and say a word. Over thirty people testified how Nana helped them or someone they loved. I cried during the moving service and felt compelled to follow in my grandmother’s footsteps as I witnessed the miracle of her gift. To listen to so many people give thanks for her and share their story was very special to me and 62

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inspired me. Nana affected these people’s lives for the better. There was no better way for me to use my gift than this. Alex sat beside me and held my hand, quietly lending his strength. I was glad to have him with me. It’s interesting how things change, how time changes feelings and heals wounds. We both needed to travel our own journey before we were ready to come together. Nana was right after all about waiting for him, I mused. She understood all along. After the gravesite service, we made the trip back up the mountain. I arranged the flowers from the casket spray in a glass-blown vase that I made for Nana when I was in high school. Alex dropped me off and then drove to his house to get clothes and toiletries. I assume he was planning to stay the night with me and I was fine with it. My breath hitched a little when I thought of the naughty things we might do. My nipples tightened as I thought of various possibilities. I changed out of my dress clothes into a tank top and cutoff jean shorts. Loaded with a turkey sandwich from the church ladies lunch meat tray and a bottle of water, I retreated to the study to read the books until Alex returned. I munched on the sandwich while I read page after page. I made note of pages that I wanted to research further. I was intrigued by ways to modernize 63

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spells since some of the ingredients weren’t easily found in today’s world. Forty-five minutes and ten pages later, Alex’s SUV came back up the mountain. The books were safely put away and I was spread out on the kitchen table when he came in the door. He laughed, dropped his bag by the door and practically leaped across the room to the table. Embarrassingly, I sort of shrieked. Such eagerness was thrilling and made me hot. He dragged me to the edge of the table and spread my legs on either side of his hips. He kissed me, savagely, dominantly and I wrapped my arms and legs around him. Oh God. I was crazy with it. I wanted him to fuck me now. He pushed my top up over my breasts, then licked and bit my nipples. I arched my hips into his and felt the press of his cock against my shorts. They had to go. He read my mind because he leaned back and stripped them off roughly, in one sweep. He put a hand between my legs and swirled a finger in my cream. His finger thrust inside of me. I moaned as he continued his assault on my breasts. He worked his way down my body, kissing the soft skin, licking a curve there and biting a nerve there. With large hands circling my ankles, he pushed my legs up and placed my feet on the edge of the table. He lowered his head to me and 64

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then licked and sucked my clit like he was starving. For several dizzy moments, he stabbed and pumped his tongue into me. With my arms overhead, I grasped the table’s edge—the leverage allowed me to arch my hips into his face. I couldn’t get enough of him and, unless I’m a bad judge of character, he felt the same way. Then he put two fingers into me as he continued to eat me and briefly leaned back to growl, “Come for me now.” I moaned as his words and actions sent me into a powerful climax that left my lower body writhing against him frantically. He unbuttoned and pushed down his faded jeans, then plunged into me. His hands on my hips pulled me against him forcefully with each thrust. I would have bruises from his strong fingers on my skin, but it was worth it. Seeing him lose a bit of that tightly reigned control was very arousing. The table scooted across the floor as he slammed into me. I opened my eyes just barely and watched him climax, amazed at his beauty and masculinity. His muscles were taut beneath the short sleeves of his white t-shirt. The skin there gleamed with a moist golden sheen that thrilled me. He dropped his head back. With his eyes closed, he growled when he unleashed his seed inside of me. He looked at me then with those eyes that were 65

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a swirling maze of gold, wolf eyes. He bared his teeth and he thrust long and deep once more. Afterward, he leaned over me, replete. He laid his head against my chest and his hair tickled my belly. I wove my fingers in the soft strands and held him close. I loved him wholly and completely and I would never leave him, but that’s a moot point because he’ll never let me. If I tried he would find me. I closed my eyes, secure in the knowledge that he loved me. Seconds later, he stood, swayed slightly and laughed. “Damn, girl. Please spread yourself across the table every day, okay?” I laughed. “I couldn’t wait for you to get back.” He pulled me off the table, holding my arm until he was sure I was sturdy. He handed my shorts to me and moved to the kitchen to get a bottle of water and clean off. “What do you want to do today?” he asked after he gulped down half the bottle. “I want to check out Nana’s herbs and replace what’s low. I know all of her spots. Do you want to come with?” I pulled my shorts back on and noticed his heated gaze when he watched them travel up my long, tan legs. “I’ll come. Are you going to start healing?” He handed me the water. “Yeah, it’s what I’ve always wanted to do. It’s 66

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what she taught me to do. She always told me that having a gift like ours meant that we have a responsibility to others. How can I not when there is so much suffering?” I tilted my head to the side and watched him walk to me, although stalk may be a better word. “It’s good that you’re here, Keeley. I hoped you decided to stay since I wasn’t going to let you go back to California anyway,” he said in a halfteasing, all-serious tone. I snorted and rolled my eyes. He lightly poked a finger against my chest causing me to stumble backward. My hips bumped the table. “Hey!” I mean, really, the strength of the man was incredible. He leaned his arms against the table, trapping me, and bent close to my face. He kissed me lightly on the mouth and ran his tongue sensually along my bottom lip. “You believe me, don’t you?” he taunted in a husky voice. Dear Goddess. I squeezed my legs together— thoroughly enticed by his dominant manner. “Yes,” I whispered. He spoke true and I was so turned on. He would never let me go, but that’s fine because I didn’t want him to. “Good,” he said with a sexy grin. He stood and pulled my hand in his toward the door. “Then slip on some shoes and let’s go after your herbs.” The day was beautiful. The sun was bright in 67

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the sky. The beauty of the mountain was hard to put into words. Everywhere you looked was a wonder to see—a pink lady slipper bloom here, a vivid white Trillium there, a mimosa tree with its pink frothy flowers in full bloom, a woodpecker knocking away in the pine tree and towering trees with long grapevines looming. The organic and fragrant smell of the earth and plants were healing in their own right. I was so glad to be home. California was a beautiful place with its own fantastic wonders, but there was something about the mountains for someone born in Appalachia. It’s indescribable. It’s a feeling of serenity, and well, homecoming, my heart’s here and nowhere else can give me that feeling. We walked among the tall trees, talking as I gathered herbs in my basket. I laughed at the antics of the squirrel that stood on his hind feet and chattered at us. Delighted by the creature, I lifted my face to the warm sun streaming in a bright shaft through the trees. In that moment, I felt the pure beauty and love of the Goddess. She filled me and I became her. A howl rent the air behind me, echoing deep in the woods, causing birds to lift in sudden flight. I jumped at the fiendish sound and looked behind me to see Alex staring at me with raw hunger on his face. It was thrilling. He growled one word, “Run.” 68

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I shrieked and took off running. After giving me mere moments of leeway, he gave chase. When he got me where he wanted me, he tackled me next to a chilly waterfall with moss covered rocks and small mountain darter fish. He stripped my shorts and plunged into me fiercely. More growls, pants and moans filled the air. It was nearly dinnertime when we arrived back at the cabin. I put the herbs away to prep later and was in the kitchen warming up a chicken tetrazini from Jane Rose Smith when Alex got the call that Byron escaped from jail. Tension filled my body and suddenly a vision of the escape came upon me. “Fuck!” he bit out, enraged. “He pretended to choke and overpowered Todd, the guard, when he came to help. Byron took his gun and shot Randy, my deputy in the office on his way out. I should have been there. This never would have happened.” “Don’t blame yourself, Alex. Todd never should have gone in there without backup. Now, go find him and be careful. I’ll be waiting for you.” I saw the worry in his eyes for his friends and the fear that Byron would take someone else out before he was caught. I promised to lock the door and keep my cell phone with me at all times and, with that assurance, he tore off the mountain to join the search. I whispered a brief prayer for everyone’s safety. 69

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I ate the casserole while I browsed spells. Finally I turned the page to the picture of a snarling wolf. Interested, I leaned forward intently and became absorbed reading about men shape shifting into werewolves. Every myth was based on fact, I mused. I relaxed back into the comfy leather chair and thought of Alex’s wolfish tendencies. A part of me denied this theory, but the seed was planted. I remembered his leap across the room to the table, his golden, hypnotic eyes, the way he growled when he was angry or stimulated and the way he liked to bite me… If I followed that line of reasoning, odds were stacking up in favor of being the one from prophesy. Scary thought that. I kept reading and, on the next page, there it was. In scrolling calligraphy, I read prophesy of the sorceress and the wolf, a mated pair, that sends the demon Alastiros into the Fade for eternity. With an ancient talisman, the sorceress focuses all of the collective feminine power of her lineage through her to send the demon into the Fade for eternity. The words were spellbinding, no pun intended. Magic has been my life since birth so I didn’t dismiss the prophetic statements, despite the ancient theatrical spin. Now I just need to figure out if it pertained to me. I leaned back in the leather chair and stared at the ceiling in thought. Could it be? Could Alex be a wolf? It sounded crazy, but in retrospect it made 70

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a lot of sense. There were so many signs—his abilities, his father’s death, his depression and anger when we were kids, his fear of commitment to me and his insistence on commitment now— with me as his mate. He accepted my abilities. Maybe it was because he came with his own set of unique abilities. Nana told me about the prophesy for a reason. I’ll bet she knew about Alex. Why didn’t she tell me years ago? None of this was conclusive—I needed to talk to Alex. How did I do so without sounding completely loco if he wasn’t a wolf? I went back to the book. The talisman was my next priority. What was it and where was it? I looked at the sketch. It was beautiful. There was a huge stone in the center and dainty scrolls around the setting. Historically each woman with the greatest power inherited the books and talisman to protect and wield until she passed them on to her daughter. Nana was the one and now it was me. Since the books were here that means the talisman must be here also. I stood and stretched and curled my toes in the plush rug. Where would Nana have put the priceless object? As I pondered that question, the phone rang and my senses told me family called. Energy poured from the phone and I raced to get it. Thank Goddess. 71

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“Hello,” I said breathlessly. “I’m glad you called,” I added before the caller spoke. Soft laughter chimed from the other end. I relaxed, glad to have this connection. “You are very strong. I feel it in you. You are the one, Keeley. You will end this curse for us all.” The voice was female and very soft and old. The years, knowledge and power were clear in the lyrical voice. “I am your great-aunt Avarian. I’m sorry for your loss, lass. We have all grieved the loss of Elise. This is a difficult time for you. I feel your grief and uncertainty. Let me tell you something, Elise visited me before she died. She chose to go to the other side so that you could benefit from her power. She foresaw her death and recognized this as your time. The demon’s growing stronger and if we don’t finish it now, he will prevail.” She broke off and I felt her pain when she remembered the death of her own daughter by the demon. The tragic event that I understood prompted Nana to flee to the States. “Are you sure I’m the one?” Even I recognized the sliver of doubt in my voice. “Your grandmother was the strongest of us, then your mother and now you. You are mated to the wolf. Prophesy tells us you are the one. Discover the talisman in the dark book,” she continued. “You’ll find it there as long as you 72

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believe. We’ll lend you our strength when you need it the most. The Goddess be with you.” I felt lighter after talking to Avarian. The conversation boosted me. Pride for my family swept through me and determination followed on its heels. I would go to any lengths to kill the demon and end this curse. I bit my lip and plotted my next step. Well, first I needed to look in the dark book and find the talisman. Talking to Alex about everything was now imperative. He needed to come clean about the whole wolf business and I should probably tell him about our prophetic future. The thought of that discussion exhausted me. Suddenly the events of the past days hit me. My legs shook and I sank to the floor, my back against a chair as I sat in shock. I was overwhelmed by it all. Nana was gone, my mate was a wolf and I was at the root of an ancient curse and prophesy leading to an upcoming battle with an evil demon that might end in my death and possibly that of my family. My mind raced as I tried to absorb the implications of the bizarre turn my life had taken. “Oh, Nana, I wish you were here,” I whispered and dropped my head in my hands. And there she was when I needed her most. Her spirit guided as I was physically lifted up and pushed into the direction of the study and the 73

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books. She was with me as I opened the dark book and saw no talisman inside. Knowledge poured into my mind and I whispered, “Show me.” In a swirling mist it appeared—a beautiful ruby and gold necklace fastened around my neck. With reverence, I lifted it up and held it to the light. Rainbow color swirled around the room from its vibrant magnificence. I closed my eyes as power of the ages vibrated through my body like a tuning fork. Visions of different women throughout time that held and used the talisman, flashed before me. Images of beautiful females, young and old, attired in the clothing of their time, so many of them. Fascination froze me as I watched them. Pride, awe and ferocity to protect grew in me. The phone rang and startled me. I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Hello?” “Keeley? It’s Renee Malone,” she whimpered in a soft country voice. “I need your help real bad. I know you have had a…” she paused as she gasped in pain, “a tremendous loss, but I’m hurt real bad and—” “Renee,” I interrupted urgently, “where are you?” I remembered the little waif Renee, Byron’s abused sister. She was molested by her father before and after he killed her mother. I always felt so sorry for her. Now she called me after her 74

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brother killed my grandmother. Desperation was clear in her voice. “Mother’s house,” replied the tortured voice. “I’m coming,” I said and slammed down the phone. I hid the talisman under my shirt and quickly put up the books. I slid into the medicine room at a run and gathered Nana’s bag after a quick peek to check that it contained what I needed. I recalled doing it a thousand times for Nana. I didn’t hesitate as I turned and ran to my room for shoes and keys. I locked the door and hopped into the Volvo. I took off down the mountain with gravel flying and dust filling the air. Renee’s distress filled my head and I was anxious to get to her. I made quick work of the eight or so miles to the Malone’s residence. I noticed the cruiser outside of the house, but didn’t see anyone around. Knocking firmly on the door, I yelled Renee’s name and turned the knob. I opened the door to find her sitting in the floor with her back against the couch. The furniture was turned over. A lamp was busted on the floor. A fist-sized hole decorated the plaster in the wall next to the phone. I hurried to her and helped her lay down on the couch. She moaned in agony. “Tell me,” I said simply. “Byron,” she cried. “Oh God, I’m so sorry for your grandmother, Keeley.” 75

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Her despair hit me like a fist in the gut and I forced myself to breathe. “Don’t, Renee, don’t apologize. Just tell me what he did to you,” I said as I wiped the damp, clinging hair back from her forehead. I saw blood in her hairline and covered it with gauze. I diagnosed her with a concussion, but I was going to fix that in a jiffy, after cleaning the blood from the wound. I laid my hand on the gash and closed my eyes. Instantly I saw Byron from Renee’s point of view as he clipped her with a pistol. My hand warmed with healing power and I saw the cut close in my mind, watching the skin reattach itself. I lifted my hand and inspected the wound. It was nearly healed, but still needed salve. “I heard gunfire and went outside to see. The sheriff stationed a deputy outside, but I think he’s dead. He’s lying in the front seat. There’s blood everywhere. Then Byron grabbed me. He held a gun to my head and…” she broke off as she sobbed, “I thought he was going to kill me. I think his name is Mike,” she said, pointing outside. “He has a little boy my son’s age,” she cried disconsolately and I realized she meant the deputy. Her physical and emotional pain battered my mind, causing my head to ache. “Okay,” I said softly, “don’t talk anymore.” I ran my hands over her head, checking for other problems and moved down to her lip and nose. I 76

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wiped the blood running there with new gauze. I laid my hand over her lower face and repeated the healing touch. I tested her collarbones for fractures and moved down to her ribs, softly pressing. Her sharp gasp let me know there was damage. I closed my eyes and felt the bruised ribs, healing them. As I did I saw Byron punch Renee, causing her to fall against the end table and knock the lamp over. She would be sore for a couple of days from the impacts she absorbed, but her breathing would be less shallow and painful. I continued my investigation and found a broken wrist and severely sprained ankle. I relived the rest of the assault as I repeated the healing process on her other injuries. I applied herbal salve to her open wounds and then heated water in her kitchen to make tea. It was an herbal tea used to relieve pain and stress and Renee drank it gratefully. “Do you have somewhere I can take you? You can’t stay here in case he comes back,” I warned her. “Yeah, I can go to my friend Marci’s house. Byron won’t go there because he’s afraid of her husband, Jim. I can’t thank you enough for helping me after what my family has put you through,” she said, her eyes full of appreciation. “You know what, Renee? I’m really sorry for what your family has put you through. What Byron does is not your fault and no one in this 77

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town holds you responsible. Now let’s go before he comes back here.” I was tired after I dropped her off and anticipated getting back up my mountain to crash. Healing uses my own energy as well as the Goddess’ and when I’m done, I am totally drained. When Nana healed something like cancer or a fatal wound, she pretty much collapsed immediately. This I could handle and a good night’s rest would see me normal again. I parked and stood for a moment in the moonlight, noticing the numerous stars and brilliant crescent moon in the sky. I jingled my keys, finding the right one for the cabin door. As soon as I opened the door, I was lifted and slammed against the wall next to the glass door. I gasped in fright before I noticed Alex’s hypnotic and very angry, golden eyes glowing above me. He growled and slammed me against the wall again. Not too hard, but just hard enough to intimidate and cause my heart to race in trepidation. He wouldn’t really hurt me, but it was clear that he was very, very mad. “Where have you been?” Demand underlined the gravelly voice. His hands tightened on my upper arms. My toes barely touched the floor. “Renee called. Byron beat her up. She was hurt so I went to help.” As soon as the words left my mouth I knew they were the wrong ones. I saw the 78

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vision in his mind of the deceased deputy. They must have found him while I chauffeured Renee on the long drive to Marci’s house. “Are you crazy? It could have been a trap! He could have still been there. He would have killed you like he killed Randy!” I’m surprised there weren’t wisps of smoke trailing out of his ears, he was steaming mad and while I understood his fear—I was fine. “Look,” I placated. “I knew it would be okay…” That did nothing to soothe the situation as he banged me against the wall again, one time too many. “Listen!” I said angrily. Fed up with being pounded against the wall for doing the right thing, I was startled into silence when he dropped one hand to his pants, unbuttoned and jerked them down. He leaned into me and ground his hard cock against me. His hand grasped my shirt and ripped it from the neck below my breasts. He pinned me against the wall again and leaned down to bite my stiffened, left nipple. I moaned when tendrils of desire shot through me. Angry as I was, his strength and emotion totally turned me on. I was a bit ashamed to be so hot, but nevertheless I ground my hips against his and moaned again. He switched to the other breast and lavished affectionate attention on it. With one hand holding me against the wall, he used the other to strip me 79

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of my pants. “Damn you, Keeley.” His husky voice admonished in a rage as he thrust his cock into me so deep and hard that I screamed, not in pain but rather in delight. I was wet and ready for him incredibly aroused by his show of dominance. Adrenaline wiped away the exhaustion I experienced from Renee’s trauma. His hips pumped up and down in a mindblowing, toe-curling rhythm. Without a break in stride, or pump, as it were, he bent over and bit me on the shoulder. I climaxed so intensely that I reared up and bucked against him, causing him to stumble. He growled and slammed me back against the wall, grabbing my hair and kissing my lips so hard that they split and then he erupted inside of me. He tasted my blood and, when he did, the vision of a wolf running through the woods filled my mind. The huge, dark wolf with his golden eyes shining was Alex. He was beautiful and majestic. The wolf skidded to a stop and looked at me. I smiled and put my hand out to him. The vision deteriorated in nanoseconds. Alex pumped three more, long, slow thrusts that made me shiver all over. Afterward, he stood silent, breathing rapidly. He held me pinned against the wall until he recovered. He leaned back enough to look at me. 80

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He shared the vision of his wolf with me and I accepted him. Our destiny was set. We both understood. The secret was out between us and, with his taste of my blood and the exchange of sex, we cemented our bond as mates, for life. He turned away and buttoned up his pants, raking a hand through his hair. “Christ, I’m sorry, Keeley. You didn’t deserve that and there’s no excuse. I was out of control. I was so afraid when I got here and you were gone. I came here because I had a feeling you needed me. The connection between us is strong and you felt…drained. When I got here and you were gone, my first thought was that Byron kidnapped you. Then you come strolling in fine, and well, I lost it.” He faced me and leaned against the couch, his arms crossed over his chest, tightly controlled as if to reassure me. “Are you okay?” he asked, intent on my answer. “I’m fine,” I sighed as I said it, suddenly spent. I wanted to melt in a puddle on the floor. “If you must know, I was incredibly turned on and, as you know, extremely satisfied. I’m sorry you worried about me. I should have called, but I was caught up in her pain and…” I tried to right my clothes and gave up. I pulled my shirt off and threw it on the sofa table. “I’m not going to answer to you every time I help somebody, even if I am your mate.” 81

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Satisfaction and triumph were evident in his eyes at my words. “I don’t expect you to, unless your safety is at risk and, when that’s the case, you will listen to me and do what I say.” He warned in a low, firm voice. “You are my mate and as such, you will obey me when it concerns your security.” I wobbled to my bedroom on shaky legs, angry with his highhandedness and still hot from his loving. I can’t get enough of the irritating man. And did he think I was helpless? I put on another tank top, turned and bounced off his muscled chest. He moved way too quiet for my liking. He grabbed my arms to keep me from smacking the floor. He sniffed me, growled and then forced me to sit on the bed. “Tell me what happened,” he ordered. I glared at him and proceeded to tell him about Renee and her injuries. The discussion was a belated reminder to my body of the events and their toll on me and I leaned back against my pillows when it all hit me. The healing, sex and bonding with Alex combined to make me a very tired girl. He noticed and sat down on the bed beside me. He brushed my hair out with his fingers and laid it across the pillows. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “We’ll talk later,” he promised me firmly. He wanted to argue about it some more I bet. “Take a nap while I’ll fix something to eat.” 82

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He walked out and I sank into oblivion— fulfilled and content despite the conflict ahead. Two hours later, I woke to a plate of fruit, cheese and crackers and a bottle of water on the nightstand. A large, purple orchid was in a small vase of water along with a note. Alex rejoined the hunt for Byron and ordered me to stay here, rest and eat…and stay here, he emphasized again. I laughed as I sat up and pulled the food in my lap. After filling up on the fruit and cheese, I felt much improved. My body was renewed and my gift stronger than before. With my magical inheritance from Nana and the mating bond, I was more in tune with my gifts than ever. I glanced at the clock and noticed that it was a quarter past midnight. Alex would be gone until Byron was found. I felt recovered from the healing, but still needed to rest. After taking the dirty plate to the kitchen, I turned off the lights and waved my hand to start the CD player. Enya poured softly from the speakers. The soothing sound sent me tumbling back to sleep. I awoke later from a deep sleep. The vision that hit me was terrifying. Byron held another cop prisoner with a gun to his head as he yelled in fright. A wolf emerged from the tree line. Byron raised the gun and fired. Silver bullets filled the clip and raced toward my mate. I shot up out of 83

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bed, “No!” I raced to my cell phone and called Alex, praying that my vision wasn’t happening. He answered and I cried in relief. After a couple of seconds, I was with it enough to tell him about the vision. He promised to take measures to prevent it from becoming a reality. I hung up, reassured. Finally my vision happened ahead of time. I still worried about Alex, but he would be careful and could now avert the impending disaster. I got out of bed and put on some clothes, prepared to wait on the couch until Byron was apprehended. I put the wand and crystals on the table beside me for comfort. An hour later, I paced the cabin, staring out the windows into the darkness of the surrounding mountains, unable to relax. I felt evil in the air and was worried about Alex. Something bad was going to happen, I could practically taste it. I lit the fire and stood watching the flames. Alerted to a presence, I turned to see Alex in the window. Evil surrounded my home and I ran to let Alex inside. He entered the door with a huge smile of satisfaction on his face. He grabbed me and slammed me face first against the wall. Blood dripped from my lip. I’m such an idiot, not recognizing the demon. Obviously this monster was not my lover and now I let him in my home. Alex’s features peeled off 84

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the creature, replaced by the likeness of the elderly Solen, and finally molded into the features of a demon so foul that I gagged from his sulfurous stench. His body was red and his eyes burned like flames. Two huge horns protruded from the top of his head. His nostrils were flared and his yellow teeth were sharp, jagged and dripping with saliva as he opened his mouth in a terrifying smile. Razor sharp claws extended from the tips of his fingers and he was covered from head to toe in a black robe. “I’ve waited eons for this moment, to kill the chosen one and her mate. I attempted to kill your mate’s father so he would never be born. Little did I know his mother already had the whelp in her belly,” he hissed—his black tongue visible as he spoke. I cowered against the wall, totally unprepared for the reality of this creature. His clawed hand flew out and a burst of blue light covered me. I screamed in agony. My body was on fire. An evil laugh filled my head, “This will be all too easy.” The blue light hit me again and another wave of pain had me writhing against the wall. Panic set in when I heard Nana whisper in my ear, “Child, remember your power.” Power surged through my body as my head cleared. I was so surprised 85

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by the demon’s appearance that I forgot who and what I was. “You remind me of your mother. She begged me like a whiny girl to save your father. I enjoyed killing them.” I stood up, sore and aching. I eyed the demon who admitted to killing my parents. He was truly a horrific, frightening vision, but I was strong and would not give in to this creature so easily. Rage filled me at the thought of my parents and Nana and all he took from my family. When he flung his hands out with another stream of power, I dodged to the side. The surge struck the wall and flames raced up to the ceiling and then extinguished on their own. Another path of blue light followed me as I vaulted over the couch. I smelled burning fabric. I was scared, but also enraged. It quickly overrode my fear. This was my destiny and prophesy indicated that I was the one to eradicate this evil from earth and my town. He threatened and killed those I loved and I wanted to take him out more than anything. This was about survival of me and my children. A quick vision of Alex and our children came on me and I smiled in triumph. Prophesy would prevail. This monster was not going to hurt my family any longer. I am stronger and filled with the Goddess’ spirit and this fiend was going into the Fade forevermore. In a moment 86

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of brilliant clarity, I realized that all of his power was based on the fear of those he fought. Armed with that insight, I took my fear and turned it into a deadly sense of determination. He had no more power over this family. A look flashed in his eyes when he noticed the change in the air. I sensed a small whiff of fear that he quickly covered. But it was all I needed. “You are done here,” I promised the demon and my words made it so. A howl split the night, perfect timing. The wolf came crashed through the large window. It was huge and dark as night with Alex’s eyes. He snarled ferociously, his long fangs glistening. He attacked the demon head on. Power blasted from the demon as he threw the wolf off, but not before he tore a huge gash in the demon’s throat. Green blood oozed from the wound. I lifted the talisman from my shirt and murmured the Gaelic chant I learned two days ago. “We are earth, fire, water, and air and together we are one.” Feminine voices chanted the words along with me. The power and magic of them all filled me. The words echoed in my mind and my body glowed with the large, blood-red ruby of the talisman. My hair blew as if a huge wind swirled through the cabin. A brilliant, white light poured from my body to 87

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the necklace and then shot out to pierce the heart of the demon. An ear-splitting scream of hatred, pain and denial erupted from the creature, shattering glass in the cabin. His body was absorbed by the light. I grabbed my wand from the table and aimed it in his direction. Fire spread eagerly toward the demon and the face of the dragon was visible in the flames. It roared as it opened its jaws wide and engulfed the demon’s body. In a poof, he disappeared. When he did, all of the foul air in the cabin whooshed out into the night, through the broken glass, like a vacuum. Sound like a sonic boom thundered in the night and then all was quiet. The demon was gone, forever. I rushed over to Alex as he stood on four legs. He shook his body as if to clear his head after the fall. I bent down in front of him and he licked my face. Then in a glorious display, he reared up and howled. It was an eerie sound that pierced the night and sent shivers down my spine. My wolf, I smiled. Shimmering mist covered his body and, a second later, he lay on the floor, human again. He watched me as clothes appeared on his body. He was magnificent. He crawled over to me and wrapped his arms around me in a hard, possessive hug. “Alex, he killed your father,” I told him as I touched his face. “He did it to stop prophesy from 88

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coming true. He wanted to stop you from being conceived, but your mother was already pregnant.” Thank Goddess. “For some reason, I always suspected him, but there was never anything to go on—except that our property meets his—where my father was found.” He sighed, “at least I know what happened and justice has been served. Thank you,” he said with a catch in his voice. He cleared his throat and asked, “Are you okay?” He looked into my eyes to discern the answer himself. “Yeah, I’m good,” I said joyously, wrapping my arm around him. “We did it, mate. He’s gone. The curse is no more.” And then I remembered. “Byron?” I asked. “He’s dead.” I saw the vision of the wolf, launching itself at Byron, tearing his throat out. I closed my eyes in relief. It was over. We kissed then for a long time, enjoying the feeling and the peace that filled the cabin, happy to be alive. I felt Nana with us. She was happy. A soft wind flowed through the room as everything, including the windows, was set aright. I smiled whispering a soft thanks to Nana. Alex picked me up and carried me to bed. I was ready. Life was going to be different now. Prophesy was fulfilled and it was time for us and all of the women in my family to move on—free of the curse, free to be happy and, most of all, free to live. 89

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Epilogue

Two weeks later

C

ars pulled into the drive and my family piled out. Young and old, they made the journey from Ireland—all of them—to honor the end of the curse as well as the mated pair of prophesy and to say goodbye to Nana in our own magical way. I was so happy they were here. Alex stood beside me as we walked out to greet them. Hugs were exchanged and then we all gathered in the cabin. Food was prepared, fresh flowers graced tabletops and candles were lit to provide a warm welcome. We spent hours, well into the night, eating and getting to know each other. Laughter filled the cabin as happy memories were relived of those we lost. I was at peace—belonging to this magical, wonderful family and having such a loving, terrific mate. Life was everything I hoped for and none of this would have happened if it weren’t for Nana. She sacrificed everything so I could have 90

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this life. I saw another vision fulfilled this morning. I was pregnant with a daughter who would continue the legacy—only without the curse this time. Interesting, I mused, how I felt so alone when I returned to Kentucky and now my life was filled with a husband, a child and large, loving family. They were staying for two weeks and we’ve already decided to visit them for Christmas. I looked forward to visiting the castle. We’ve been told we always have a home there if we ever wanted to leave Kentucky, but that won’t happen. I’ll always live on my mountain, in the home of my heart, with my wolf.

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About the Author Sophia enjoys cooking & entertaining for family and friends. She loves the outdoors (climbing, hiking and tennis) and a challenging game of poker. Her hobby and joy is in writing fantasy that will help others escape after a long day. Her favorite past time, however, is playing Candyland with her husband and daughter. Sophia’s website is located at: http://sophiadanu.blogspot.com/