Chapter One
A witch’s torment…
Aylia Richardson appeared in the deserted Nevada diner parking lot in a flash of air and evening wind that blew her long chestnut hair around her shoulders. Beside her was her transporter, an ancient and powerful leader in the Vampire world’s law keepers, The Wardens, who looked more hot Viking than blood sucker. He was a friend to her Coven of the Rain in their quest to protect humanity, and to The Werewolf Society, whose civil war had turned dangerous to them all.
Her gaze swept over the five people standing before them. Among them were three more Vampire Wardens – brothers Evan, Aiden, and Troy Brooks. Beside Troy was Cassie, the werewolf that he loved. It was for Troy and Cassie that Marcus had brought her here today to help by binding a spell that had been cast on Troy. The leader of the rebel wolves had dabbled in magic he couldn’t control, mixing it with Troy’s blood, to turn himself into some kind of vicious hybrid mix of wolf and vampire. Instead, he had turned Troy into the hybrid, and not without complications. Troy couldn’t control the wolf inside him at all. She’d need her Coven necklace to use that kind of powerful magic, the necklace that held every spell she had cast with the blood bond of her coven. The one that the rebel leader had stolen from her to use in his spell. The one Marcus claimed Cassie’s brother Nico had recovered and not returned to her.
Aylia’s gaze slid to Nico Moore, her ex-lover, ex-love, and soon to be enemy. Her eyes skidded over his dark good looks, power and sex fanning off of him, before her attention landed solidly on the black and red pendant resting on his chest.
Anger and hurt rolled through Aylia and she charged towards Nico, her booted feet pounding on concrete. “You have my necklace?” she demanded, not the least bit cowed by the fact that he was the centuries old alpha of the Royal Guard, or that he towered over her five-feet-four inches by a full foot. Her chest tightened with emotion, and she could hear the rasp in her voice, the emotion she couldn’t control. “Why would you keep it from me? You know what it means to me. You know…” She stopped herself, aware of their audience, unwilling to reveal her destiny that only Nico and her Coven knew. She would be dead in six months on her twenty-sixth birthday without it; killed by a centuries old Coven curse that had been cast by an ancient warlock who’d been in love with a witch who had broken his heart.
“Because I was protecting your sweet little witchy ass, that’s why,” he said, his light brown hair curling to his chin and framing amber eyes that flashed with heat. Eyes that smoldered with a look that said, even after more than a year apart, that he was remembering every inch of her body, as she remembered the perfection of his beneath the leather he wore.
She brushed her hands down the hips of her black, knee-length skirt, fighting the urge to rip her necklace from his neck, angry that he could still make her want him. “Six months, Nico,” she whispered, reminding herself, reminding him, of just how dark the sin of his betrayal was.
“And if Andres gets a hold of you,” he said, “you won’t have six months left. He’ll kill you for the spell in your necklace, so that he can try the magic again.”
Andres. Just hearing the name of the wolf that had been infected with ‘Red,’ a rabies-like virus, filled her with guilt. She’d created a spell to bind the virus and remove the killer in Andres. Instead, she’d given him control and turned him from a mindless killer to a calculating killer who’d become the leader of the rebels.
“Just give me my necklace,” she said, as angry now at herself for what she had done as she was with Nico. “If you’d have shifted while you were wearing it, you might have destroyed it.” She lifted her palm to his chest and the necklace glowed, then snapped from his neck and into her hand. She closed
A witch’s torment…
Aylia Richardson appeared in the deserted Nevada diner parking lot in a flash of air and evening wind that blew her long chestnut hair around her shoulders. Beside her was her transporter, an ancient and powerful leader in the Vampire world’s law keepers, The Wardens, who looked more hot Viking than blood sucker. He was a friend to her Coven of the Rain in their quest to protect humanity, and to The Werewolf Society, whose civil war had turned dangerous to them all.
Her gaze swept over the five people standing before them. Among them were three more Vampire Wardens – brothers Evan, Aiden, and Troy Brooks. Beside Troy was Cassie, the werewolf that he loved. It was for Troy and Cassie that Marcus had brought her here today to help by binding a spell that had been cast on Troy. The leader of the rebel wolves had dabbled in magic he couldn’t control, mixing it with Troy’s blood, to turn himself into some kind of vicious hybrid mix of wolf and vampire. Instead, he had turned Troy into the hybrid, and not without complications. Troy couldn’t control the wolf inside him at all. She’d need her Coven necklace to use that kind of powerful magic, the necklace that held every spell she had cast with the blood bond of her coven. The one that the rebel leader had stolen from her to use in his spell. The one Marcus claimed Cassie’s brother Nico had recovered and not returned to her.
Aylia’s gaze slid to Nico Moore, her ex-lover, ex-love, and soon to be enemy. Her eyes skidded over his dark good looks, power and sex fanning off of him, before her attention landed solidly on the black and red pendant resting on his chest.
Anger and hurt rolled through Aylia and she charged towards Nico, her booted feet pounding on concrete. “You have my necklace?” she demanded, not the least bit cowed by the fact that he was the centuries old alpha of the Royal Guard, or that he towered over her five-feet-four inches by a full foot. Her chest tightened with emotion, and she could hear the rasp in her voice, the emotion she couldn’t control. “Why would you keep it from me? You know what it means to me. You know…” She stopped herself, aware of their audience, unwilling to reveal her destiny that only Nico and her Coven knew. She would be dead in six months on her twenty-sixth birthday without it; killed by a centuries old Coven curse that had been cast by an ancient warlock who’d been in love with a witch who had broken his heart.
“Because I was protecting your sweet little witchy ass, that’s why,” he said, his light brown hair curling to his chin and framing amber eyes that flashed with heat. Eyes that smoldered with a look that said, even after more than a year apart, that he was remembering every inch of her body, as she remembered the perfection of his beneath the leather he wore.
She brushed her hands down the hips of her black, knee-length skirt, fighting the urge to rip her necklace from his neck, angry that he could still make her want him. “Six months, Nico,” she whispered, reminding herself, reminding him, of just how dark the sin of his betrayal was.
“And if Andres gets a hold of you,” he said, “you won’t have six months left. He’ll kill you for the spell in your necklace, so that he can try the magic again.”
Andres. Just hearing the name of the wolf that had been infected with ‘Red,’ a rabies-like virus, filled her with guilt. She’d created a spell to bind the virus and remove the killer in Andres. Instead, she’d given him control and turned him from a mindless killer to a calculating killer who’d become the leader of the rebels.
“Just give me my necklace,” she said, as angry now at herself for what she had done as she was with Nico. “If you’d have shifted while you were wearing it, you might have destroyed it.” She lifted her palm to his chest and the necklace glowed, then snapped from his neck and into her hand. She closed
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