Aaron's Kiss Series Boxed Set (Books 1 - 7) (2 page)

BOOK: Aaron's Kiss Series Boxed Set (Books 1 - 7)
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

WCP

World Castle Publishing

Pensacola, Florida

Copyright © Kathi S. Barton 2011

ISBN: 9781937593650

First Edition May 2011

2
nd
Edition World Castle Publishing December 1, 2011

3
rd
Edition World Castle Publishing, LLC August 15, 2013

http://www.worldcastlepublishing.com

Licensing Notes

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews.

Cover: Karen Fuller

Editor: Eric Johnston

Dedication

 

To Megan Pettet and Amanda McWhorter, the girls who are power reading my stories and encouraging me to write more.

To Erica Miller, the girl who keeps me smiling and laughing and looking good for the camera.

And mostly to my good friend, Phil Campbell. “Tahanks” for all the laughs and the great one-liners. That’s the way we dose it!!!

Kathi S. Barton.

Prologue

 

Melody looked at Marcus. She had never been so unsure of anything in all her considerable life. As queen, it wasn’t something she wanted to happen again, either.

“Are you sure about this? She’s just a child, not even a teenager yet. Why do you think this…this little girl has what hundreds—no, thousands—don’t?”

Marcus, her Man at Arms of her Royal Guard, grinned. “Never been more sure of anything before, mistress. She’s good—damn good as a matter of fact. You should see her take down a man. Nothing prettier. She’s even had the temerity to take me on a few times. Smart mouth, too.” He grinned again. “You’ll like her.”

“I don’t need to like her. It helps, but is not…damn it, Marcus, I don’t want a little girl getting killed trying to protect the kingdom.” She moved through the portal into the human world. “We need someone who can follow orders, do as she’s told, not a kid who’s going to be a pain in my ass several hundred times a day.”

They needed men. Not just men, but men of worth. Not to say that Melody had a problem with women defending the kingdom, but to the guard who served her, all were men regardless of their sex. They had put the magic beacon in the human world, hoping to attract some of those who would be able to serve. And so far, it had worked…to a point. There had been problems, issues with some of the others…others who couldn’t be trusted with the secret of the Castle of Molavonta, The Magical Castle of her Magick, Melody’s magic.

Mel liked being the queen. She loved that she had the power of magic.
Hell,
she thought,
I am magic. All magic.
She governed the usage and the amounts used in both her world and that of the human world. There were creatures and peoples in her world that the humans wouldn’t or couldn’t understand. Dragons and unicorns, pixies and fairies, trolls and centaurs, and even kings and queens of all those, as well as princes and princesses. Mel had the best of both worlds. And as a true immortal, one who could never die, she had the added responsibility of keeping them all safe.

“All right then, let’s go watch her. What was her name again?” They entered the large area surrounding the building and walked to the front door.

She could feel her own magic, the magic that kept all evil away and all those that entered safe from harm. She was comforted by it and what it represented. She looked over at Marcus when he didn’t answer right away.

“Sara, mistress, her name is Sara Temple. And so you know…well, I’ve not told you something. Something that you will probably know soon enough.”

She looked at him, dreading whatever it was he was about to say. “What is it, Marcus? Please tell me she’s not a murderer or something. I’m going to be really pissed at you if she is.”

“No, mistress, nothing like that. Well…why don’t you go through the door and tell me? I swear to you, it will be a nice surprise.” She didn’t like what he was saying, or the grin. But she did go into the large building hoping that whatever it was wasn’t going to piss Sherman off any more than he already was at her.

Her mate, Sherman, was mad because he felt he should be the one to gather the guard. Well, frankly, the guard didn’t like him. Not only that, but for some reason she couldn’t understand, they hated him. She didn’t understand that either. He was a good man, if only a little self-absorbed. She did love him, with all her heart. She and he had been mated for nearly a millennium now. She wanted to have his child, their daughter.

As the queen, it was decreed that she could only have a single child, a girl child who would rule when Mel was ready to step down. Her own mother had gone to Ireland some nine hundred years ago to fade, or to rest as a fairy ring, a magical circle of flowers that only the Irish could appreciate and love, with Mel’s father. They would wake and come for a visit, but those visits had become less and less over the decades. She frowned when she wondered why. They were just to the door of the building when she felt the small bit of…something.

She glanced over at Marcus to find him staring at her. “It’s her. The girl. The closer you get to her, the stronger it is. I felt it the first time I tangled with her. She has it hidden, but when she’s fighting…well, she forgets to hide.”

When they entered the large open area, Marcus excused himself to go and find the master. She had a chance to look around. It was a beautiful building filled with woods of every kind. She walked to the wooden post next to her and put her hand onto it. It was warm and gave off a feeling of peace and wellbeing. She gave the sturdy oak a bit of her magic, just enough to make him last, enough so that decades from now he would stand and have knowledge that he stood for something other than a structure piece that some human needed to finish a project. The open walls and the wooden floors got the same bit of magic; warmth from her touch permeated the entire building before Marcus stepped back with her.

He stopped for a second, then threw back his head and laughed. “And how will the owner explain why this particular building still stands when all around it has crumbled?”

“I don’t care so long as the people who enter here leave with the sense of worth and happiness.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s go and meet your friend so we can get back to the castle.”

Marcus nodded toward a set of closed doors, and Mel followed him. Magic blasted her as soon as she stepped through the door. White magic, pure and barely touched, slapped her hard in the face. Beautiful and warm, it made her feel happiness, more than she’d given the post in the front and even more pure. This child’s was untapped magic at its purest.

The girl stood in the middle of the room surrounded by all the weaponry needed to train. She was tall for her age. Marcus had said she was just eleven years old. Mel wondered what her parents thought about her magic and remembered that Marcus had told her Sara was an orphan. Mel sat down as Marcus changed as he walked across the floor, his clothing of his guard’s uniform fading away to that of a pair of worn jeans and a t-shirt.

“You’re late, asshole. You said you’d be here an hour ago and now I have a class.” Her voice was hard, a direct contrast to the little girl standing so still in the middle of the room.

“I was detained. You think to teach me a lesson, child? I’m thinking you need your bottom paddled for the use of such language.” When she snorted at Marcus, he continued. “Ah, you think I jest? No, I’ve come to teach you a thing or two about fighting. Have you studied the book I gave you from before?”

“Yeah, big deal. That book you gave me is really crap. There was nothing in there about what we talked about. I asked you how I get to have a sword that doesn’t feel like I have to break an arm every time I want to lift it.” She lifted the sword in her hand up to his face when he was close enough to almost touch her. “That’s close enough.”

The sword was too long for her, even Mel could tell that. Mel closed her eyes and had one fashioned for her. All the child had to do was touch the handle and the sword would be hers. Weight, balance, and even the length would be specifically fit for her. Mel reached out to Marcus mentally and asked him to give her the blade.

“Don’t touch the handle. It will work only for the person who touches it. Tell her that you’ve had it made for her.” Mel handed him the blade by the crown, and Marcus took it by the pommel.

She didn’t think the child was going to take it, but when she looked over at Mel, she nodded once and wrapped her hand around it. Mel felt the connection immediately. Magic like hers poured though the connection, and Mel knew that Sara felt it, too.

“It’s nice. Thanks,” she said to Mel before turning back to Marcus. “Who’s the broad?”

Mel nearly burst out laughing at the expression on Marcus’s face. He’d been taught from birth to respect her as the queen. This chit had a few things to learn, the least of which would be respect, if she made the cut.

“You’ll keep a civil tongue in your head,” he told her. “I told you before I was bringing someone. Now behave or I’ll take the flat of my blade to your bottom.”

The girl snorted. “You can try, old man. I’m not one of your rug rats to be ordered about. If you want to show off for your girlfriend, that’s fine by me.”

Her new blade sang through the air and sliced a tear in Marcus’s shirt. The move was so quick Mel was surprised by it. Marcus only grinned.

“First blood.” He bowed as he spoke. “Today we fight for blood, not tears in our clothing. I’ll give to you this shot, but we go for good. Ready?”

“No. I won’t hurt you. I refuse to play like this so some woman will have sex with you.” Sara dropped the blade to the floor as she spoke. “I told you before I’m only here because they’ll feed me and it’s fun.”

Marcus stood there with the girl, neither of them moving. Mel stood and walked toward them. Marcus was right; the closer one got to her, the stronger she was. She was standing next to her when she realized that the girl was reading her mind. Mel let her to a point, but kept a great deal from her. She was not bad for a person without training, and Mel was equally impressed that Sara had such control.

“Hello. You’re Sara Temple. I’m Melody, his queen.” Mel nodded toward Marcus. “I want to show you something.”

Mel turned to Marcus and took his arm into her hand. “Marcus is my guard, and as such, he can’t be hurt by you. I can cut him.” Mel sliced her own blade over his arm, drawing a line of blood. “But you—”

Mel was suddenly on the floor with a small, very sharp blade to her throat. The girl, Sara, was straddling her, holding her down.

“No,” Mel warned Marcus when he drew back his sword to what Mel was sure to end Sara’s life. “She was doing just what we need her for. Protecting one of my own.”

“You were trying to prove a point? Wow, you’re a real piece of work, lady.” Sara stood and looked at her as Mel rose as well. “I’m so out of here. See you around, Marcus.”

When Sara turned to leave, Mel stopped her with a question. “Sara, did you use your magic to throw me down, or was it your body? Either way was impressive. But I’m thinking you used your powers.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re nuts. No one has magic.” Sara still hadn’t moved when she continued. “People would hurt someone if they had magic, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Mel agreed. “But not where I’m from.” Mel took a deep breath, tried another approach, and whispered through her mind. “
I can help you with it if you’ll let me. I can show you how to control all of it
.”


In exchange for what? You going to slice open my head and see how my brain works? Tie me to a chair and put wires on me and shock me
?” Mel felt her snort and nearly burst out laughing. “
No thanks, been there, done that
.”

Mel wondered what else the girl had been through and then realized she would probably not tell her if she asked. “No, I don’t need a blade to see what’s in your head or your heart. Come with us, Sara. I swear to you if you don’t like it after one week, I’ll bring you back and pay you for your time.” Mel held her breath while she waited on Sara.

“You won’t hurt me?” she asked as she turned.

“No, child, I won’t hurt you.” Mel put out her hand. “And so long as you’re working for me, no one will ever hurt you again.”

Sara nodded, then took Mel’s hand. As soon as they touched, they were all three in Molavonta.

“Mother fuck,” Sara said on a sigh. Marcus burst out laughing.

~~~

Fifteen Years Later

 

Aaron looked at his friend and day walker, Duncan, and wondered, not for the first time, what the hell he was doing. If Aaron lost this, then Duncan would die. He looked around the entrance hall again while he waited for Carlos Sanchez to receive him.

“Duncan, perhaps we should talk about this again. I don’t think I can stand for you to—”

“Sire,” Duncan began, exasperation in his voice. “I do believe we have re-mashed this several times already. I also believe that if you fail, you will be in no position to worry if I am dead as well. I do not believe that you will fail, but should you, then you will not even know that I have met my demise. You yourself will be ash and no longer aware of me anyway.”

Aaron couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing. “I suppose you’re right. And it’s rehash, not re-mash.” They both turned as one to the doorway when they heard the footsteps coming toward them.

“You will do well, sire,” Duncan said as he straightened the collar on Aaron’s shirt. “This man needs to be removed from his position, and you are the man to do so.”

Aaron nodded before they both turned toward the vampire who had showed them in. He didn’t look any better this time than he had the first time.

His hair was unkempt and lank-looking. His cheeks, his entire body, looked gaunt and his skin, pasty white. He looked starved, and Aaron thought that for a vampire of this one’s apparent age, it had to have been weeks since he’d last fed. But for all his sickliness, his uniform was in pristine order.

Clean and pressed, even his shoes were polished to a high glossy sheen. Like the house and its contents, money had been put into appearances and not into those that lived there. Aaron shook his head at the waste of money.

Carlos Sanchez had been the master vampire of this little realm for nearly three hundred years. Aaron had moved there several weeks earlier when a few meetings with some other vamps had told him what was going on. Aaron might not have thought the cruelty was true had it have been only one or two stories, but he had heard the same thing over a dozen times.

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