The Banshee's Desire
Read The Banshee's Desire Online
Authors: Victoria Richards
The Banshee’s Desire
Victoria Richards
Copyright 2012
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons either living or dead, as well as any events or locations is entirely coincidental.
In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, any means of reproduction, either electronic or physical, of any part of this book, without written permission is unlawful piracy and deemed a theft of the author's intellectual property. You may use the material from this book for review purposes only. Any other use requires written permission from the author or publisher.
Table of Contents
Other Books by Victoria Richards
A cold wind howled outside
Antrim
Castle
as if the Devil himself rode it.
The shrieking wail ripped through the enchantments safeguarding the old Irish ruins from mortal eyes, fanning the flames of an argument between the thirteen wizards gathered deep in the recesses of the dungeon. The sound was a reminder of what they were divided on, of the woman who they considered an anomaly, an abomination against the purity of their supernatural bloodlines.
Half banshees were not supposed to exist.
And yet one had been created right under their noses.
How could a woman like Jacqueline Huston wield so much power? It wasn’t right and certainly wasn’t a part of the laws of nature. And the fact that she could reap souls and still retain her human form--unacceptable.
And what would happen if she turned her attention to one of them?
Worried didn't begin to describe the Brotherhood of Merlyn's feelings on the subject.
"She's unnatural," one of the wizards proclaimed to his brethren in a loud voice. "She cheated Death and now there will be a price to pay. For all of us! We've seen it before!"
"Settle down, Foster."
The wizard who issued the command stood to meet Foster's gaze. As leader of the council, he'd listened without comment to the mutterings and accusations hurled about, only an occasional nod or a twitch of his nose to show his feelings on the matter.
"You are making wild accusations that we have yet to explore," the wizard said, his tone challenging. His old eyes stared into Foster's until it was clear who was dominant.
Foster sat.
The elder wizard smiled at this show of respect, but there was no mirth in it.
"We'll agree the woman is unnatural and something should be done about her. However, if experience has taught us anything, it's that we must tread carefully." The wizard looked around the room until his gaze settled on another council member. "Spark, what say you to all the noise this woman is causing? After all, she has had a direct effect on your family."
Everyone turned their attention to Spark, the tall thin wizard with coal black hair at the end of the table. Of the thirteen wizards gathered,
Sparks
sixty five years of life made him one of the younger ones there. He stared at the table top, his dark eyes reflective. A long moment passed before he spoke.
"She should be destroyed."
Around the table came murmurs of agreement.
"Destroyed?" A hint of doubt peppered the old wizard's deep voice, causing the others to fall silent. "Though your son was acting under his own directive, Spark, his idea was not a bad one. Capturing the half banshee and bringing her to the Brotherhood would help make us more powerful. We have enemies who still wish us harm even after all these centuries have passed."
"Then have Toby Williams bring her to us!" Spark answered angrily, still not meeting the old wizard's eye. "If you can reach him, that is. I hear he is smitten with her. And wasn't he the one we asked to watch her so that we could be alerted if she displayed any of her powers in the first place? Odd how we haven't heard a word from him, and yet, we know she has been reaping souls."
Spark looked at the old wizard, his gaze cold and severe.
"Or are you going to protect Toby and his spawn? The spawn which killed my son, Derek, by the way. You've always had a soft spot for Josiah Williams’ kid. That's why his family's council seat continues to sit empty rather than be filled by someone who is worthy of being a part of our group."
A little ripple of discord ran through the room which the old wizard silenced by holding up one hand.
"Spark, your son was killed because he made a miscalculation."
"A miscalculation?" Spark stood, anger flashing. "How do you figure that?"
"Derek Spark and Josiah Williams were supposed to have killed that child when it was a baby. The offspring of rival wizard families taints the purity of the bloodline and has the potential to create a completely new sort of…creature. Obviously, Derek had the opportunity to take care of matters on his own when Josiah failed in the task. But he didn't. He decided to play the odds. And looked what happened to him. Smote by the hand of his own nephew--your grandchild, Spark--because he didn't follow orders. Yes, he miscalculated badly," the old wizard said. "It's a shame really. Derek had potential. It could have been nurtured if you hadn't kicked him out of your family."
"You have no right to lecture me about sons," Spark's voice was ice and his eyes narrowed. "At least my son wasn't responsible for creating a half banshee that destroyed half of
Europe
. Or have you forgotten about that?"
"Be careful Spark. Be very careful," the wizard warned. "You don’t want to upset me."
The walls of the castle shook and Jonathan Spark suddenly grabbed at his throat. His eyes bulged as he gasped for breath. Some unseen force choked him though there was little doubt where the force came from.
"Listen to me carefully. Circumstance may be different, but the end result is still the same. If Derek hadn't played a hand in Eric Huston's death, the half banshee wouldn't have been born. Your son did that, but you have a chance to right that wrong." The old wizard released his spell and Jonathan Spark gasped for air. "Bring me the half banshee. I'd hate to destroy such an unusual creature without really knowing what she can do for the Brotherhood."
Spark stared at the other wizard, a silent war of wills stretching between them. But in the end, it was Spark who acquiesced. With a nod, he sat down, rubbing at his neck and saying, "As you wish."
"And Jonathan, try not to piss her off. If there is one thing I've learned from my centuries on this planet, it's that women are more manageable when they're in a good mood."
Spark nodded.
"I also want your grandson, Spark. This mixed blood creature must be put down quickly. He has powers that we can't comprehend. Bring him to me so that I can kill him."
"And if his father is…resistant?"
"Do what you have to." The wizard looked at the only empty seat on the council and shook his head regretfully. "The time to play favorites is past. The creature is too great a threat."
Jonathan Spark smiled coldly.
"Consider it done".
****
Being able to see the mark of Death was a perk of Jacqueline Huston's new powers.
As she scanned the back room of Merlyn's Bar, she couldn't help but look for the tell tale hint of darkness which showed her who would be dying soon. A part of her shivered with anticipation over it even as she tried to stay focused in the here and now of playing pool with her best friend Angela.
The pool balls made a solid clink as Jacqueline's break ball rolled into them.
"Yes!" she whispered gleefully, watching the balls roll in all directions.
"Not bad." Angela frowned. "But I hate being stripes. It's bad luck or something. I never win when I'm stripes."
"Boo hoo," Jacqueline mocked, aiming at a solid red ball. "I'd feel sorry for you, but I don't."
"Sassy!" Angela smacked Jacqueline's butt as she walked by. "Don't make me angry. I would hate to throw down my wine and have to teach you a lesson."
"That would be alcohol abuse," Jacqueline said. "Toby wouldn't like it if you poured wine on his floor. He'd probably make you clean it up with your tongue or something."
They both looked over at Toby Williams, owner of Merlyn's Bar. Tall, sandy haired, and very well built, he managed to own the space with his sheer presence. He chatted casually with one of the regulars, throwing his head back to laugh at something that had been said. As if he knew the two ladies were watching him, Toby glanced over and winked one deep blue eye at Jacqueline.
"Damn, that man is smitten with you," Angela sighed appreciatively.
"I know." Jacqueline couldn't hide her grin of delight. "I'm pretty smitten with him, too."
"Really? I hadn't noticed."
Both women laughed.
"Seriously, Jackie," Angela said. "I'm really happy for you. You deserve someone nice like Toby."
Angela turned back to the pool table, but Jacqueline pondered her words.
Do I? Do I really deserve someone like Toby?
It was a question she asked herself at least once a week.
She never could come up with a satisfactory answer. There were odd thoughts brewing in her lately, thoughts about death and chaos that had never been there before. It seemed the anniversary of her husband's death four months ago had awoken more than just her latent banshee abilities.
It had awoken the need to create death.
Several times in the last few months, she'd caught herself watching the flicker of the soul in an innocent person, something only she could see, and wondered if she could just yank it out and have a little taste.
But that would mean death for the soul's owner.
How could Toby love her when she had strange thoughts like that?
She gave an involuntary shudder, trying to push away the morbid thoughts, but they clung to her. Jacqueline found herself again looking around the bar, reflecting on who might die soon. Who had the potential to let go of the mortal coil so she could swoop in and claim it? What a rush it would be to sip on a soul before sending it on its merry way.
Whose shoulder was the hand of death tapping on next?
That guy.
A tall man sat at the bar, munching on stale peanuts. His back was to her, but Jacqueline could see a dark shadow around him--the pall of death. It wavered like a flag, still thin, which meant death was coming, but wasn't quite there yet.
"Jacqueline? You okay?" Angela's voice brought her back to reality.
"Sure."
"You have a weird look on your face."
"Sorry. I was just thinking about something."
"You've been preoccupied lately." Angela took a shot and did a fist pump when she sank the ball in the pocket. "I've been worried."
"I'm fine."
"Ever since this place was robbed by that freak, Derek, you've been different."
The words were quiet, but Jacqueline didn't miss the pain in Angela's voice when she said Derek's name. Derek Spark had been a rouge wizard with an agenda which included seducing and tricking Angela. In the end, he'd resorted to threatening to kill her and Toby's mother Matilda. There had been a vicious battle, but Derek had been defeated.
Toby's son, Gabe, had killed him.
Gabe walked into the bar right then, carrying a heavy beer box. The disgruntled look on his young, handsome face said it all. Gabe obviously thought he was above such heavy labor.