Authors: Kelliea Ashley
Bitten By Magic
| Bitten By Magic |
| Sisters Of Fate [2] |
| Kelliea Ashley |
| Breathless Press (2013) |
When Alexa Carver ties the knot with a Vampire in order to save her kin, she finds an unexpected passion for his body and his bite.
As the Keeper of the Treaty, Alexa has always walked a fine line between right and wrong. When her trouble-loving cousin makes an enemy of Wilhelm Chambers, the oldest and strongest Vampire in the Western Hemisphere, she is forced to jump to the rescue by taking the place of Wilhelm's lost bride. What she didn't expect was finding a traitor in her Coven, flaws in her education about Vampires, and a serious case of the hots for her new hubby!
Wilhelm Chambers was enraged when his bride was stolen. She was docile and obedient, everything he wanted in a wife, or so he thought. Being saddled in holy matrimony with none other than the Keeper of the Treaty gives him the perfect opportunity for revenge, but one taste of her blood could change his mind and fate forever.
What's a Vampire and a Witch to do when they discover hidden magic in a kiss with a bit of a bite?
Bitten By Magic
Sisters Of Fate, Book 2
Kelliea Ashley
Breathless Press
Calgary, Alberta
www.breathlesspress.com
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, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Bitten By Magic
Copyright © 2013 Kelliea Ashley
ISBN: 978-1-77101-153-2
Cover Artist: Victoria Miller
Editor: Sally Mander
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in reviews.
Breathless Press
www.breathlesspress.com
I’d like to dedicate this novel to all the wonderful people who made my wedding day perfect. There are too many of you to name, but you know who you are. We are so lucky to have all of you in our lives. Unlike Alexa’s, mine was to the love of my life and held on a bright sunny day with over 90 degree temps! Wilhelm would never have survived!
Chapter One
Fate was a mistress no Witch could fight, but how Alexa Carver wished she were able to vaporate herself back to her rooms at the Coven’s main headquarters. It wasn’t that the rooms her intended groom had given to her to use weren’t more than luxurious. She’d soaked in the huge sunken tub for hours at a time and slept sporadically in the comfortable king-size bed, but she would have traded the bath and bed for a small spot on her one-inch thick carpet in her rooms at home. There she wouldn’t be facing a forced marriage to the oldest, strongest, and most feared Elder of the Vampires in America.
Here she sat in front of a gilded mirror as Georgetta, a Goth-dressed Vampire’s Poppet, heated Alexa’s stubbornly straight black hair into a mass of curls. Alexa hated curls. She rubbed a hand against her upset stomach and tried not to listen to Georgetta’s overly friendly banter. The girl could be no more than twenty-two. Her short, cropped black hair was streaked with neon green locks that matched the big emerald hanging around her neck. Her brown eyes were deep and warm as they repeatedly met Alexa’s in the mirror.
“You look so much better than the first day I saw you. There’s pink in your cheeks and I think you’ve gained a much-needed pound or two.” Georgetta’s smile was kind, her demeanor nothing but friendly. She was the only bright spot in Alexa’s last two weeks of isolation.
After she’d thwarted his efforts to gain revenge on her cousin, Allison, and her Wolven mate, the Elder forced her to seal the deal with a blood oath. She hoped her blood had made him burn, the undead bastard! In exchange for her hand in marriage, her family members would remain safe, from his vengeful dealings, at least. Alexa knew her punishments were only just beginning. As the Keeper of the Treaty of the TriSpecies Council it was her sworn duty to protect and defend the doctrines that set in stone the laws governing the three main houses of the pre-human world. Witches, Wolven, and Vampires were blood sworn enemies, had been since the dawning of the Earth. When man came into being, the two less-civil factions looked upon them as nothing more than prey. What they hadn’t counted on was the speed at which the humans bred.
All too soon their easy prey was banding together in groups to defend themselves. Some even learned how to hunt down and kill the stronger predators. Vampires were weakest during the day; slayers soon began to wipe the oldest of the line out. Wolven, though their ability to walk in the sun made them harder to kill, were captured and their bodies chopped apart and left to rot. Witches with a voracious appetite for human flesh—and there were a few—found themselves staked out and burned alive.
When it became apparent that the three species’ very existence was in peril, they buried past hatred in order to create a peace between their factions. Any individual caught breaking, or even bending, the specifications of the treaty were dealt with harshly by the Keeper. There had been only five Keepers before her. All Witches, chosen very carefully by enduring a series of trials meant to eliminate the weaker candidates, ensuring the one chosen was the strongest of will, mind, and magic. She didn’t think of the twenty others candidates, who fell before her. By the end of the cruel tests she was only thankful to the Goddess that she still breathed.
Now, all that she had endured and survived was for naught. A Witch bound in marriage to a Vampire could not remain Keeper of the Treaty. The High Priest would have her title, if not her head. A fate, she surmised, that would be far more lenient than the cold-hearted Elder’s intentions for her future would be. He hated her with a passion bent toward eking out every last ounce of pain and humiliation. She would be wishing for a repeat of the trials before all was said and done.
She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and firm her resolve to do all she could to protect Allison and the babe she carried. Allison hadn’t told her of the child; she wasn’t even sure her cousin knew she was pregnant yet. No, Alexa’s gift was visions of the future. This child, a blending of a Witch and Wolven would unite the two species in blood and eventually help to make way for everlasting peace. It had to be protected. Even at the cost of a Keeper’s life and happiness.
Looking into the mirror, Alexa couldn’t help but analyze her current position and how she’d come to be sitting in a room at the Vampire’s main Hive. Elder Chambers, her intended groom, had wasted no time whisking her back to the Vampire’s lair, which was referred to as the Hive. It was a closed society of the undead and their minions, or Poppets, as the Vamps called them. She knew the Goth-loving Georgetta was a Poppet. Since the day Wilhelm locked her in her room, the only one she’d met was Georgetta.
The first night no one came, no matter how loudly she ranted and raved in anger. She’d discovered right off that the elegant room was warded from anyone trying to vaporize in or out. Realizing she was well and truly locked in, Alexa’s fear of small places kicked in. She threw things at the window, but the glass was fortified with an unbreakable spell. The Elder clearly had a Witch as a Poppet, which wasn’t a pleasant notion and one that the Coven would be interested in knowing. Next, she tore up the rug, groaning as she found a thick rubber mat below. A Witch never wore shoes; their bare feet were their connection to the mother earth. Through that connection they were able to draw power, magic as the humans termed it. Rubber was man-made and unnatural, an efficient way to block a Witch’s power source. She was definitely grounded here. No one came to check on her. She threw things, screamed, swore, and eventually begged, yet no one came.
The next morning Georgetta was allowed in with her breakfast. Alexa, her stomach already aching, refused to eat anything. Georgetta tried to cajole her into trying something, but the torture of being locked away demolished any appetite she might have scraped up. The next night the girl begged her, then mentioned that the Elder would whip her if she came back to the kitchens with a full tray. How could she let the poor girl be punished for her own stubborn will? She’d taken an orange and pushed the rest away.
The very next day Georgetta looked surprised when Alexa asked for something to read. She was going stir-crazy enough locked away in a tiny room with only a small bathroom attached, but she was also bored out of her mind.
“What would you like me to bring you, Mistress Carver?”
“I don’t care.” Alexa tossed the apple she’d taken in the air. Georgetta’s brown eyes widened in wonder as the apple turned into a ball of light for only a second before it landed in her palm, once more an apple. As yet, the simple show of magic was the only one she’d been able to perform. Oh, if she could only step one foot out the door, the things she’d love to do to a certain Elder.
“The Master has a well-stocked library with tons of books—”
“I don’t care what you bring me! Bring me romance, mystery, hell bring me a five hundred page book on how to stake a filthy Vampire for all I care!” Alexa cringed at the look of horror on Georgetta’s face. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just need to get out of this room. I can’t even make an apple transform for two minutes in here. I’m suffocating. A Witch isn’t meant to go without the earth for too long. I’ll simply go mad without my magic.” She slumped on the bed in defeat. She felt Georgetta sit down beside her.
“I know. I’m sorry. I wish...” Georgetta shook her head as she rose and left Alexa once more alone. That night she brought a cart filled with books. Alexa would never forget the girl’s kindness.
Two more days went by with Alexa’s stomach burning like a wildfire. She relented enough to drink milk and eat toast, but she was getting weaker. The pain was turning her mood sour. Lunchtime was a disaster when she found herself hurling her tray at the door. The sun had barely set when her door slammed open and the Elder himself came barreling into her room. His dark brown hair was mussed as if he’d just brushed his hand through it. The agitated glare he pointed at her stiffened her spine as she stood up from her spot on the floor beneath the warded window.
The arrogant creep looked clean and formidable as ever in a pair of dark jeans and crisp white shirt. She noticed though that he wasn’t as put-together as usual. One sleeve was rolled up, the other down, as if he’d been interrupted while preparing to work. His dark eyes seemed tired as well. Perhaps their upcoming nuptials were wearing on him too? She could hope.
“Mistress Carver.” His dark head nodded to her in a civil greeting that was at direct odds with his glare.
“Elder Chambers.” She mimicked him with a glare of her own. They stood quietly like two combatants ready to kill.
“Why the hell aren’t you eating?” he demanded through clenched teeth.
“You can lock me up, leave me to rot in this hellish pit, but you cannot force me to follow your commands, Elder.” Alexa folded her arms over her chest. Hate filled her as she felt his gaze move over her in a way that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. How dare he give her the once-over when he hadn’t even provided her with a fresh change of clothing! He knew he’d taken her magic away from her. Human prisoners of war were given more consideration.
“I suppose I can’t make you take a bath and change your clothes, either?” A dark brow lifted in an insulting way.
“You didn’t give me any clothes,” she bit back at him. His head reared back as if she’d hit him. He clearly hadn’t expected that.
“That will be remedied right away. My orders were obviously not followed. I owe you an apology for the oversight.” The swift change from angry jailer to polite host didn’t sit right with Alexa. She didn’t trust the demon as far as she could throw him. She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind, but he wasn’t through speaking. “That, however, does not explain why you aren’t eating. You look like hell.”
“I’m in hell!” she yelled at him. “I wouldn’t expect you to look grand if I locked you up in the desert, so why do you expect more of me when I haven’t been allowed out of this tiny room?”
Wilhelm lifted a hand to flip on the light and turned his head to study the small room. “This doesn’t look like a cell, Keeper. Though I regret you weren’t given adequate supplies, you were given a soft bed, bathroom, and reading materials, not to forget the countless meals you sent back to the kitchens. I hardly think this classifies as a ‘hellish pit.’ I suggest you straighten up, act like a lady, and eat the food provided for you.”