Chosen by Fate (42 page)

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Authors: Virna Depaul

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #General

BOOK: Chosen by Fate
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She smiled, knowing what he saw. Outwardly, she bore no resemblance to the wraith he’d once known. She was young, vibrant, and healthy again. But inside, she was still the same female. She didn’t answer to the name Christina anymore—it just hadn’t felt right when she’d tried. She was Wraith—once human and risen from the dead to be human again. Once painfully alone, but now bursting to the seams with family—her human parents, her wraith family in Maine, her team, and of course, Caleb. Only one thing—and admittedly it was a
huge
thing—kept her from moving on completely.
“We’re almost there,” Caleb said quietly.
She took in a deep breath and nodded. Tightened her fingers around his and began walking again. A short time later, he stopped. “Remember, this is a one-time thing. And Essenia said your time will be short.”
“I remember. I’m thankful for whatever time she gives me. I just need to see her one last time. To make sure she’s okay . . .”
“She wants the same thing.”
He didn’t specify who he meant, Annie or Essenia, but it didn’t matter. When he bent to kiss her, she tilted her face up to his, cherishing his touch. It was something she never took for granted. She never would. Pulling away, he rested his forehead on hers.
“When we return,” she murmured, “we need to talk to Mahone. He’ll want to start looking for a new recruit.”
“Make that two new recruits.”
Surprised, she pulled back. “But I thought we decided—”
Smiling, he shook his head. “
You
decided I should stay on the team. And I will. I’ll return eventually. But I have much more important things to do first. Like be with you. And watch you be a mother to our baby. I figure after a year or two, Mahone will still be able to use a healer on the team. And if he can’t,” Caleb shrugged, “I have trust in fate.”
She swallowed hard and cupped his cheek. “So do I,” she whispered.
They kissed again, and this time she took control, pouring all she was and had been and would ever be into the kiss. When she pulled back, he was still smiling, but the heat in his eyes told her he was looking forward to being alone. And horizontal. But right now . . .
He nudged her forward. “Now go. She’s waiting.”
Wraith turned her head and caught her breath. She squeezed Caleb’s hand again before letting go. Slowly, she walked toward the glowing light and the silhouette of a young girl encased safely within it. The girl’s face was split by a huge grin as she ran toward Wraith.
The sisters embraced, and Wraith felt the peace and happiness that radiated from her.
The girl’s grin matched Wraith’s own, and even though her sister no longer had a beating heart, Wraith’s heart beat for her.
“Annie,” Wraith breathed. “I love you.”
This time, when Mahone sensed Essenia’s presence, he barely managed to acknowledge her. It wasn’t disrespect or anger or even indifference he felt; he was simply tired. Worn out. Wondering what was going to come next and if he could possibly muster up the energy to face it. Wraith’s return to humanity and her happily-ever-after with O’Flare should have had him pumping his fists in the air in victory and gloating that the prophecy was well on its way to being fulfilled. Instead, he was calculating the chances that another HEA could possibly be on the horizon.
After all, in his experience, life tended to lull people into a false sense of security just before it cut their legs out from underneath them.
“Feeling sorry for yourself, Human? Regretting that you haven’t gotten your own happy ending?”
Mahone smiled but kept his eyes closed, his head resting on the back of his office chair. “Not so much,” he murmured. “I think I’ve finally accepted that’s not in the cards.”
He sensed her move closer to him. Felt the dual heat and chill she emanated. Felt both horror and pleasure, but somehow it was distant; he was aware of it in some plane of his mind, but once again he couldn’t find the energy to respond.
She sighed and he felt the brush of something soft against his face. A gentle caress, as if from a mother to her son. Or from one lover to another?
The thought had his lids slowly lifting and her visage took up his entire line of sight, blocking out everything but who she was and what she wanted from him. What she could give him.
“I’m tired,” he murmured.
“I know. And I know you crave rest. But I can’t give it to you. Not yet. There’s still much to be done. Many we must expose in order to defeat.”
“You’re powerful. You can crush us without a thought. Why can’t you simply defeat those who displease you?”
Again, that soft caress despite the fact he didn’t see her move. “It doesn’t work that way.”
“A miscalculation by whoever created us, I have to say.”
She laughed and this time the sound penetrated his malaise enough to curl his toes and make his dick lengthen. What the hell?
He straightened, narrowing his eyes as she backed away.
She
backed away.
From him
.
Interesting.
“Don’t be arrogant, Human. It is merely time for me to leave.”
He stood, knowing that something had shifted between them. Sensing the way, for just a fraction of a second, her gaze could no longer quite meet his. Was she giving up on them? Did she realize the futility of what she’d asked of him?
“Even with Knox and Felicia’s return,” he said, “my team is fracturing. Their hearts are weighed down with other concerns despite the happiness they’ve found. Knox is obsessed with keeping Felicia safe. Wraith is no longer the weapon she once was. Our enemies are growing bolder with every defeat they suffer. Just how do you expect me to stand for your children when you won’t give me full disclosure? Won’t be more specific about what it is we need to do?”
“I am limited in what I can give. We both know I’m your creator but also that I am not, Mahone. I know what you speculate.”
Her blatant admission shocked him. Worried him. What was behind it? “So you admit I’m right? There’s someone—
something
—more powerful we’re up against?”
“All I can say is creation is quite complicated. It’s not as black-and-white as one would wish. Someone on your team will learn that quite well very soon.”
Mahone felt his eyes round and imagined the comical picture he made. “Oh no. No. One of my team is pregnant? Who? Felicia? Wraith?” When Essenia remained silent, Mahone whispered, “Lucy?”
“We’ve talked quite enough, Mahone. Rest now. You’ll need your energy for what’s to come.”
“What are you—”
His phone rang. He looked at it, then at Essenia. Watched her form fade in a flash of light.
The phone kept ringing. Ringing. Ringing.
Finally, with a soft curse, Mahone answered it. “Mahone.”
“This is Dex. We’ve got a situation.”
 
Keep reading for a preview of the first book
in a sexy new paranormal romance series
by Kimberly Frost
ALL THAT BLEEDS
Coming January 2012 from Berkley Sensation!
AUGUST 2007
I
can’t believe this is happening
, Alissa thought. She whirled to face her bodyguard, Mr. Clark. His lean form was rigidly straight, his expression grim as she stepped forward.
“We can’t just stand by,” she said in a low voice with another quick glance around the house’s panic room. Oatmeal-colored walls, a stocked refrigerator, plush couches, and a bathroom with a cavernous slate-tiled shower. A person could live in the panic room for quite a while and certainly nothing, not even a demon, could get through the magically reinforced steel walls that were as thick as any bank vault’s. Yes, it was safe and comfortable—if they were willing to ignore the slaughter happening in the rest of the house. The Arts & Innovation benefit had turned into a nightmare. Mr. Clark had pulled her down the hall to safety before she’d realized what was happening.
Alissa took a deep breath. The sterile air had an almost metallic tang. She straightened to her full height and beckoned for Mr. Clark’s gun. He ignored her outstretched hand. She inched forward, her pink-champagne Balenciaga gown swishing over the carpet.
Beyond the bodyguard’s shoulder, the giant screen showed the ballroom where an enormous demon nearly eight feet tall was holding a roomful of humans hostage. Dead security officers littered the dance floor like discarded party favors. The greasy, gray-skinned demon yawned, its toothless mouth as wide as a cavern. Would he swallow his victim whole? Like a snake? He had no weapon, but with razor-sharp claws and inhuman strength, he didn’t need one.
How did the demon even cross into our world?
There had never been an incident like it in Alissa’s lifetime. Or even in her mother’s time. For the fifty-four years since the muses had inspired mankind to defeat the vampires during The Rising, the world had not tolerated supernatural threats. In the twenty-first century, no vampires existed and no demons rose. Humankind wrote the laws that ruled the world. And everyone had been safe. Until now.
“Mr. Clark, either go out and help those people or give me your gun so I can.” Her voice was as sharp as she could make it. She might have been only twenty-one, but, as a daughter of the House of North, in a time of crisis she was prepared to lead. She kept her arms tight to her sides in hopes that he wouldn’t see them tremble.
“Unless Mr. Xenakis gives the order, that door doesn’t open until the creature is gone or dead,” Mr. Clark said.
Alissa narrowed her eyes. Dimitri Xenakis, the Etherlin Council’s president, would never give an order that would put her in danger, but he also wouldn’t have locked the panic room when so many other people were still outside.
“Mr. Xenakis isn’t here, but I know he would want us to help. Open the door. I’ll go out and distract the demon long enough for people to escape. You can get anyone into the panic room who’s too afraid or too slow to run.”
Mr. Clark folded his arms across his chest, his black tuxedo jacket revealing the slight bulge on his left side where his holstered gun lay. “You expect me to use you as bait?” he scoffed.
“Yes, because I expect us to do something,” she said, the irritation rising in her voice.
A flicker of movement drew her eyes to the screen. The creature attacked again. The red-violet eyes were wild. And merciless. The victim’s bloodied body fell to the creature’s feet. Her stomach churned, and she had to swallow against its rising contents.
Be strong! Don’t let Clark see weakness.
She turned from the screen, clinging to her composure.
She pushed back a strand of hair that had come loose when she’d raced down the hall. “We have to do something,” she whispered.
“The silver and iron bullets bounced off it. The creature is invulnerable.” Mr. Clark shook his head. “I would still face him if you weren’t here, but you are. If I open the door and he catches the scent of your blood, he’ll be on you in seconds once I’m dead. You know a muse’s blood is irresistible to The Damned.” He paused. “Nothing but Mr. Xenakis’s direct order will make me open that door.”
“But the demon could stay until everyone is dead,” Alissa argued, holding out a hand to implore him. “We can’t wait. Please. You have to let me try.”
“No,” he said firmly.
A tremor rocked the house, and they looked up at the screen. A figure in black strode into the ballroom. He shrugged off a black duster coat, letting it drop in his wake without slowing his stride.
“Merrick,” Mr. Clark mumbled.
“Who’s Merrick?” Alissa asked, staring at the dark-haired man on the screen who wore sunglasses despite the late hour. He stopped about twenty feet from the creature, then slid a knife from the sheath on his hip. He was tall and broad, but the monster was enormous.
Mr. Clark leaned forward. “He can’t be serious. That blade looks like it’s made of ivory. It’ll crack long before it gets through a demon’s hide.”
Merrick’s lips moved, and Alissa bent over the controls and pressed a button to un-mute the surveillance system.
To the people, Merrick said, “Get out.” He nodded to the door, but when they inched toward it, the demon roared and they froze. “Go ahead,” Merrick said, even as the creature crouched, ready to attack them.
Merrick clucked his tongue, drawing the demon’s attention. “Come, Corthus, I’m your dance partner.”
“What’d he just say?” Mr. Clark asked.
Alissa blinked, realizing that Merrick had spoken to the creature in Latin. She’d translated his words in her head without thinking. “He’s goading the demon.”
“Not for long,” Mr. Clark said grimly.
Without warning the demon sprang forward. Alissa gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Merrick slid away, and the demon’s claws smashed a chair but didn’t get a piece of the man who continued to taunt him. As he fought, Merrick’s unflinching confidence and strength amazed her.

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