Chosen: Book 1 in the Ancients of Light series (48 page)

Ella had, much to her mother’s delight, been
exceptional with weapons. Had she stayed in the Realm she might
have assumed a prominent role in her own Caste. After her
departure, she had kept herself in warrior form out of habit and
because she actually enjoyed the physical activity of her exercise
routine. She had purposefully abandoned her practice of magic
though, leaving that to her Caste mates that remained embroiled in
the war between the Light and the Dark in the Realm.

Exiting the bath with that thought lingering,
she dropped to the edge of the bed to tug on knee length black
boots, and then stood to smooth her hands over her clingy black
sweater. Giving herself a final once over in the mirror, she exited
back to the only other area in her apartment, a small sitting area
that merged into a smaller kitchen. Though tiny, and not in the
best neighborhood, her home was warmly decorated and tidy. She
loved it here…because it was hers and it was
not
in the
Realm.

A sudden grin took her face…the advent of a
spectacular life was on the horizon, she could all but feel it.
Still smiling, she snatched her black clutch off the table and
headed out the door, not stopping to dim a single light. With the
brightness of the room and in her haste, Ella failed to see the
dark figure that shadowed away from the lone window of her
apartment.

CHAPTER 2

The night had slipped by quickly, one club
after the next and all began to blur. The large number of drinks
that had been pressed on her, each with a toast of her success,
hadn’t helped. Eight of her friends had dragged her very
willing-self through the club scene quite late into the cooling
Chicago night.

Ella had just exited the mass of bodies on
the dance floor and was grateful to feel the cooler air wash over
her as she trekked to the bar. Jason – the rich little frat bastard
- had opened a tab for her. Her slur on his parentage was nothing
more than a running joke between them and since tomorrow she had
only a date with her pillow, she was determined to enjoy herself
fully at his expense. Until the bar closed and she stumbled home,
Ella was in celebratory mode. A witch did so love to party.

She thought for a moment she felt eyes
trailing her, but shook the feeling off. In this large mass of
intoxicated young adults she might gain the attention of some horny
male, though that was not the kind of attention that would normally
have her spine tingling. Obviously, she had imbibed too much. That
thought did not slow Ella’s progress towards the bar. She hopped up
on a stool and waved the bartender in her direction with a
flirtatious smile.

Ella could take no pride in her looks,
because those were a blessing of her lineage. Females of the Witch
breed possessed a supernatural kind of beauty. It did not mean that
she could not and would not use it to her advantage when warranted,
and her
need
of another glass of wine was paramount at the
moment.

The tingling of her powers nudged at her
again and Ella frowned in irritation. An unexpected surge of magic
always made her nervous. Though she had long since realized it was
unreasonable to fear that someone nearby might sense the shift in
her energy - years of time with the humans assured her that was not
the case - she always experienced a fleeting feeling of unease
anyway.

The current spark of magic was probably
brought on by the large volume of alcohol in her blood and the
throb of blaring music. Having attributed cause to her magic’s
pesky behavior, she brushed all worry aside. Ella was in her
element and felt glorious, flirting wickedly while she requested
her beverage. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror behind
the bar, her grin widened. Her cheeks were flushed from her dancing
and her eyes were bright. She was actually happy and felt again the
foreshadowing whisper of wonderful things to come.

Ella was still musing over that and the phone
number that had accompanied the beverage napkin with her wine when
she was nearly unseated by the jostle of a body against her arm. A
sidelong glance showed her the large shoulder of a male as he
squeezed into the space beside her. Ella shot him an annoyed glare;
she hated being pinned in any tight space. When the offender turned
to her with a ready apology, her aggravation was forgotten along
with all instinct to breathe.

Her widening gaze took in the most remarkable
pair of topaz eyes flecked with shards of gold. With a little bit
of effort, necessitated by the amount of her consumption that eve,
she drew back and discovered that his face was as intoxicating as
the contents of the glass she had been lifting to her lips. His
large hand coming to rest on her arm made certain the goblet did
not make it any closer to her mouth.

He shook his head at her with explanation,
“Princess, that swill will make your head hate you in the morn.”
His accent was European but Ella could not place the locale. The
deep timbre of his voice coupled with those good looks had addled
her. He looked to be mid-thirties. His skin had a touch of bronze
suggesting that he had just come to Chicago from some warmer clime
and his black hair just grazed the collar of his shirt. It was
sexily disheveled as though he habitually ran a hand through
it.

By the time she remembered to suck in some
air, the man had extracted the glass from her hand and was having a
hushed conversation with the bartender while sliding her drink
away. She took note that her new companion also crumbled the
numbered napkin and dropped it dismissively to the floor when the
other man walked off.

He was certainly sin, wrapped in chocolate
with a sprinkle of naughty...visions of him would keep her happy in
fantasy land for months. Ella felt a stabbing tingle of power again
and dismissively tamped it down. Lifting her gaze to find his
riveted on her, it became important to her only just then that he
had robbed her of her wine. To interfere with a witch and her
consumption of brew was a no-no indeed. Her brow creased in mild
vexation, “Are you attempting to cut me off? Because I am a big
girl and I can handle…”

His finger found her lips, cutting off her
rant before she could work herself into a lather over the stolen
drink. Leaning in close enough that his breath caressed her cheek,
he confirmed that the attraction was not one-sided, “I am merely
making certain that later, when I taste your lips, they will not be
tainted with that plonk.”

Ella swore he shuddered with the
characterization of her aforementioned drink before turning and
nodding his thanks to the tender for the bottle of wine and glasses
deposited on the bar. He swung that piercing gaze back to lock on
hers and murmured in the same smooth tone, “Your head needs to be
clear enough to focus only on me when I kiss you the first time,
Witch.”

His words - both his claim to her attentions
later and the call to her immortal nature - had the desired effect.
A sharp intake of breath and quickening pulse accompanied the rapid
rise of color to her cheeks. Her eyes flared wide before narrowing
with animosity. An unnatural spark of green swirled in their
depths, evidence of the rise in magic, and this time Ella let it go
unfettered.

Her intoxication had been enough to muddle
her instincts and cause her to dismiss the warnings her magic had
been screeching at her. Now that she had been clued in, it was easy
for her to gain a sense of his nature as well…Vampire. Her lips
curled in distaste, only to be answered by his smirk as he ignored
her obvious ire to attend to their glasses. His unconcerned manner
made her furious. He knew her to be a Witch so he should be fleeing
in the opposite direction, not pouring her a beverage…the arrogant
bloodsucker.

Shoving aside her shock and recalling the
gist of his earlier proposition – kiss him indeed - Ella hissed
quietly, “Over my dead body, Leech.” She leaned in while he tarried
over the pour of wine. The rolled sleeves of his dress shirt gave
her view of his muscled forearms and revealed that any marking of
the Light faction was absent. The dangerous sparkle in her eyes
grew stronger with the realization that this one was aligned with
the Dark.

He took note of her assessment though he was
completely at ease when he set the bottle back to the bar. A cocky
grin spread over his face and he countered, “No gorgeous, I prefer
your body heated, that sweet mouth of yours begging for more...”
The vampire trailed off and presented her one of the two goblets of
swirling red liquid. His eyes touched on the flicker of pulse in
the column of her neck before he continued in a husky whisper, “And
you will beg, Witch.”

So as not to draw notice of those humans in
proximity, Ella eased back and accepted the glass. Tipping it to
him in mock salute before raising it to her lips, she whispered
over the rim, “This is as close as you’ll ever get, ass leech.
Enjoy.” Despite her anger she was tempted to close her eyes and
purr in ecstasy as the rich wine bathed her tongue. The fact that
he was a Dark parasite that had totally ruined her evening kept her
from doing just that.

Her insult did not give him pause because he
witnessed the pleasure that had come over Ella. The witch liked the
finer things and that suited him well enough. With her momentary
distraction, his hand snaked out to capture the nape of her neck
and he leaned in close. He took enjoyment in the fact that her body
stiffened reactively when he drew nearer to her throat.

Shifting direction, the vamp steered clear of
her neck and instead nuzzled her ear. A part of Ella itched to
remind the Vamp of the danger in toying with a Fire Witch. The
still-insane-with-lust side of her wanted to hop up in his lap and
say ‘pretty please with a side of whipped cream.’

She did neither and he continued on with a
husky reprimand, “Shhh…do not make a scene. We are amongst humans.”
The Vamp dropped back, abruptly releasing his intimate hold and
invited, “Call me Cole.” His look was daring her to accept the
offer.

Her whisper crossed the space between them
and would have gone unheard over the din of the crowd if not for
his keen senses, “I’ll burn you from the inside out and be content
to toast your demise as I do…Vamp.” Her blatant rejection of the
use of his name had his brow rising, the light in his eyes
reflected his pleasure over the challenge she presented. Cole loved
stalking prey and the stunning make of this one would make his
conquest all the more satisfying.

Ella deposited her glass back to the bar and
made move to rise but his hand met her shoulder and stopped her
exit. His unnatural strength was controlled, but evident in his
hold. He issued a simple command that seemed more an invitation
when coupled with the warmth in his tone and a sensuous smile,
“Stay.”

As much as she might wish this stunning male
was harmless, he was a very real and very deadly threat. Her
instincts had recognized it long before she had and the fire had
apparently grown impatient with begging to be unleashed. The swell
of magic inside her when he touched her this time caused her to
grasp the edge of the bar tightly. White-knuckled, Ella almost
doubled over while she fought for control. She was panting, as much
from the pain it caused her to rein in a magical surge of this
magnitude as from the fear that swept her at the thought that she
might be unable to keep her magic concealed from the throng of
humans surrounding them. A panicked glance at her unwanted
companion confirmed that he knew exactly what was happening to
her.

Cole had sensed the shift in her internal
energies and was pleased by it. He had hoped his high-handed
treatment might draw the magic to the surface. Seemingly nonplussed
by her condition, he pried one hand free and captured it in his.
Entwining their fingers, he began stroking his thumb over the back
of her hand. His dwarfed hers. Ella swallowed hard. The quick
change in him from domineering male to soothing comforter had her
as off balance as her internal fight with her magic.

Retrieving her glass, he pressed the rim to
her lower lip. Her expression told him that she objected to these
familiarities, but his stare was calm and unwavering, “That green
sparkle in your eyes is most enchanting, but you need to calm
yourself Witch. I am not your enemy tonight.” He inched in closer
to keep the eerie light from her gaze completely shielded from any
onlookers. His eyes reflected a concern for her and he tipped the
glass against her lip, inviting her to sip, the soothing rub of her
hand unceasing.

Apparently even her inherent,
vampire-loathing Witch nature was not immune to his charm. Ella
could feel the magic begin to dissipate as he fed her the liquid.
His demeanor remained unruffled, no concern or hostility evident in
him. That should have made Ella more wary, but it eased her
instead. Allowing her eyes to slip closed, over the space of the
next few minutes she was able to rein her power in completely. The
vamp continued his attentions and she allowed it even after she
knew she had gained control.

Cole felt the energy level off and had her
eyes been open, she would have witnessed a flash of triumph cross
his face. He was enjoying the chance to study the witchling up
close. Her sooty lashes curled up where they dusted the tops of her
cheeks and her creamy complexion was perfection. He had long been
tempted by that fiery hair and he was barely controlling the urge
to wrap his hands in the thick strands and drag her against
him.

When she at last lifted her eyes to his,
there was no spark to greet him, only suspicion. The vamp could
have done any number of things to her in those moments that she had
been indisposed, but there had been not one hint of evil in his
handling of her. Ella did not know quite what to make of him.