Authors: Kim Knox
Dark Dealings
Dark Dealings
By Kim Knox
There are monsters in the city. And one of them is her…
Ava Kalle’s empty soul devours magic. And her hunger is deadly. She’s sharp, quick and can live in shadow, making her work as a spy for the Mages a natural choice. She lives on the fringes of society and likes it that way.
When the man she loves takes another woman for his mate, the darkness in her heart unravels and she’ll do anything to get him back. She makes a dangerous deal with a fire elemental, Heyerdar, who has a vested interest in agreeing: together they’ll use forbidden magic, harnessing their sexual energy to drive the couple apart.
But soon their pact pushes them both into a dark sexual obsession. One that Ava may not be able to control…
73,000 words
Kim Knox
Dear Reader,
Exciting things happen in November. It’s the month we first
announced the creation of Carina Press, the month of my Harlequin employment
anniversary and it’s the month when we in the U.S. get
gorge-yourself-on-bad-carbs-and-turkey day (otherwise known as Thanksgiving). We
also get Black Friday (I think they call it that because of the color of your
bruises after you’ve been run over by crazy shoppers).
This November, we’re excited to release our first Carina
Press book in trade print format.
The Theory of
Attraction,
an erotic BDSM romance collection featuring novellas from
Delphine Dryden, Christine d’Abo and Jodie Griffin, is on shelves and available
for order online.
We also have fourteen new stories in digital for you to enjoy
post-turkey coma, in that long, long line outside the mall on Black Friday or,
if neither of those is your thing, to enjoy just because you like a good book!
Try to avoid the crime and violence of some of those crazy holiday shoppers and
enjoy some on-page suspense instead. Marie Force is back with her popular Fatal
series and ongoing protagonists Nick and Sam, in her next romantic suspense,
Fatal Deception.
Also returning is author Shirley
Wells with
Dying Art,
the next Dylan Scott
mystery.
I’m happy to introduce debut author Jax Garren’s new trilogy,
which kicks off this month with
How Beauty Met the
Beast.
This novella grabbed my attention when I read it on
submission, with off-the-charts sexual tension, a wonderful, character-driven
futuristic world, a smart, sassy heroine and a tortured, scarred hero who yearns
for nothing more than to keep the woman he’s secretly falling in love with
safe.
Looking for something out-of-this-world to take you away from
the pre-holiday madness? J.L. Hilton offers up her next cyberpunk
science-fiction romance,
Stellarnet Prince,
continuing the adventures of futuristic blogger extraordinaire Genny. Meanwhile,
Cáit Donnelly’s
Now You See It
gives a paranormal
edge to a thrilling romantic suspense, while erotic fantasy romance
Dark Dealings
by Kim Knox is guaranteed to give you
that “take me away” feeling.
Joining Kim with erotic romance releases this month are Jodie
Griffin with her next Bondage & Breakfast novella,
Forbidden Desires,
and Lynda Aicher’s first of a BDSM trilogy,
Bonds of Trust.
All three books in this trilogy are
both smokin’ hot, while delivering a wonderful, captivating story.
We have two authors with male/male releases this month,
including L.B. Gregg’s contemporary romance
Men of
Smithfield: Adam and Holden.
Also in the male/male niche, author
Libby Drew has her first Carina Press release, paranormal male/male
romance
40 Souls to Keep.
Susanna Fraser’s
An Infamous
Marriage
is our lone historical romance offering this month, but one
that won’t disappoint. Anchoring us in the here and now are several
contemporary romance titles. Jeanette Murray’s
No
Mistletoe Required
aims to get you into a holiday mood and
December Gephart bursts onto the publishing scene with her debut, the witty, fun
and romantic
Undercover Professor.
And don’t miss the upcoming conclusion of Shannon Stacey’s
second Kowalski family trilogy,
All He Ever
Dreamed.
Wherever your reading pleasure takes you, enjoy this month’s
variety of releases as we gear up for the holiday season.
We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your
thoughts, comments and questions to
[email protected]
.
You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter
stream and Facebook fan page.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
www.carinapress.com
www.twitter.com/carinapress
www.facebook.com/carinapress
Dedication
To Jessica as always.
And to Edwin, who let me edit.
Acknowledgements
To Deborah Nemeth, my editor,
who had complete faith in me. Thank you.
Chapter One
Sunlight gilded his muscled body.
Ava let her head drop into her open palms and leaned heavily on the balustrade. Marble dug into her bony elbows but she ignored the pain for her illicit moment of man-watching. The
teken
on her right hand—the symbol of her magic—burned against her cheek. In the silence, the cool air carried the turn of his bare feet over the sand of the arena, the soft huffs of his breath as his supple body flowed through the series of twisting, intricate moves.
Captain Nahum Heyerdar put on his naked show every morning, just as the sun crept over the curtain wall. Welcoming the fire of the sun as she touched the earth.
He was the only elemental in the Institute. Had grown up there and been guided into the Guard by nervous mages. Old magic surged up through his flesh, and that intrigued and terrified them. Every other elemental had vanished, disappearing into the mountains, into distant lands, far from the reach of the mages and their high magic.
Except him. Why he stayed was a mystery. Even to her.
“Do you think he really needs to do this
every
day?” Reist leaned on the wide stone lintel and placed a steaming mug of tea before her. “Or does he simply crave the attention?” He pointed to the dark dots on balconies, in windows, shadows under archways. Her fellow watchers. Servants, apprentices, the odd mage. There with her every morning.
It was a familiar remark her mentor had made down the years. Though he never questioned her satisfaction in watching the captain or tried to pull her away. Odd, but true. She didn’t know what Reist thought about her watching a naked man move with absolute ease and perfection. And she couldn’t ask him. Her relationship with Davin Reist was...complicated.
Reist’s arm brushed hers, and a quick shiver ran under her skin. For a moment, she let the sure rhythm of Heyerdar’s movements, the flow, the precision, calm the uneven beat of her heart. The weight of her dark center cleared the remaining flickers.
“Only these this morning.” Reist dropped a muslin bag beside the cup and Ava opened it to find five thick chunks of barely cooked mutton within a thin flour wrap. “You can find more. You must.”
Ava twitched a smile. There was an order there. Reist had brought her breakfast for as long as she could remember, knowing how the darkness of the thief gnawed at her. And how almost-raw meat pushed back its hunger. But even this simple ritual was changing.
Reist
was changing. Pulling away from what they had. He had a different woman in his life.
Her stomach growled and she ate the small parcels of meat. She remembered to chew. No one ever needed to see how she
should
eat. The taste of sheep blood only seemed to whet her appetite. The ache to feed, to feel blood and bone in her mouth, was increasing every day. Sometimes even the air around her seemed alive with hunger, itching against her skin...
Crazy. She was going crazy.
Ava licked her fingers. “This is from one of the emperor’s own ewes.”
“The head cook was dressing a carcass. A hunting dog got loose in their enclosure.” He lifted an eyebrow. “I thought of you.”
“Was I the sheep or the hunting dog?”
Reist shrugged. “I leave the choice to you. As always.” His gaze moved over her, and her body tensed, a quick and anxious pulling of muscle. “You’d look good fluffy.”
She glared at him, masking her bubble of embarrassed joy with her center—the cold heart that lived alongside her thief. It drew all emotion deep inside. But its focus was wearing her to the bone, pushing her other nature through her skin. Shortening her life even more. Mages and elementals had centuries. She had decades. Two more if she was lucky. Her hunger ate her from within.
She was a stealer of life energy with nothing inherent in her soul.
Thief.
The nicest name for one with her rhythm of magic. She was the stuff of nightmares. A monster.
“I’m not fluffy.” Ava gave the statement the proper level of disdain and took pleasure in seeing Reist’s mouth pull into a reluctant smile. “And you can’t make me be fluffy.”
“I can never
make
you do anything.” He stroked his hands over the pocked surface of the stone, his long fingers following a thin grey seam. His voice seemed...distant. Thoughtful. “I’m your master, but how you serve me is your choice. No one else’s. You have choice. Freedom.”
He allowed her a latitude the other mages couldn’t understand. Every day it gave her hope.
Her stomach growled and Ava willed away the need for more fresh meat. And there, under her physical hunger, was the pull of the
other
hunger, the one that could never be sated. She was a contrast to someone as powerful as Reist with his flesh-hoarded magic.
She’d told herself that since she was sixteen, when he’d found her on the steps of the Institute and brought her in. He hadn’t shied from her, been afraid to touch her, fearful that she’d rip the meat from his bones. He’d simply smiled that easy smile, the one that over the years seemed solely for her, taken her down to the kitchens, fed her, found her a bed and argued her case for staying. For working for him. From that first moment, Reist had had her heart.
Not that he’d ever seemed to want it. She was a mess. The whole situation was a mess.
Her gaze fixed on Heyerdar. “He’s beautiful to watch.”
Reist shrugged.
Did he want to acknowledge that? The month before, he’d taken Heyerdar’s woman to his bed. Taken her two days after becoming the Highest Mage. Fallon Braith seemed to be so much more than his bed toy. More than a way to sate his endless ambition, like so many of the other women Ava had endured.
Heyerdar’s body flowed and she wanted his calm, some of the fluid peace that came with his morning ritual. “Why hasn’t he killed you yet?”
Reist stilled. They hadn’t touched on his new woman. Not once. But thirty-two days and Reist had yet to tire of her. It wasn’t like him. Wearing her mask of disinterest sliced pain into her with every new day. She had to find some way to ease it. She slid her gaze to Reist and watched him wet his lips.
“I don’t know.”
“Has he at least threatened you?” It would salve her bitterness, just that little bit, thinking of Heyerdar finding Reist in the shadows, pressing his muscled forearm to the Highest Mage’s throat and letting his feet dangle as his strength cut off his air... Her mouth flattened. That was the thief in her stirring.
Shit.
“Reist...”
“No.” And he sounded surprised. “The only time I’ve seen him is with you, here.”
Ava blinked. This was
Heyerdar.
He’d simply let Reist steal Fallon from him, let her leave him for another man—the Highest Mage, a man he hated—without reacting in any way? She stared down into the sand-filled arena, her gaze narrowing. “He doesn’t look like he’s lost all sense.”
“You
want
him to threaten me?”
Reist’s tone was light, playful, and it stabbed into her chest. She fought to breathe. The slow tease of Heyerdar’s body as it moved over the sand found her calm for her. Eased her hard grip on her nature. Another reason she couldn’t give up their daily balcony ritual. She needed that from the senior captain’s display. “Don’t you think it’s strange? He’s an elemental. Old magic. Primal. Possessive.” She let a thin smile push across her mouth. “And you’re still walking.”
“He respects Fallon’s decision. It has nothing to do with me.”
There was a tension to his words and Ava flicked a glance to him, finding a hint of color in his cheeks. Did she really want to know the intricate tangled mess of their lives? No. She’d tried for ten years to get Reist to notice her. Her continued failure was enough to endure.
“What’s the agenda for today?” She pulled in the bitter scent of hot tea. Work would distract her. It always had in the past as she watched him use mages and women of the court to push through his ambitions. She wondered why she wanted him so much...but there was a draw there, a tug at something within her, something familiar and she craved it. “Am I still trailing the apprentices?”
Reist picked up his own mug, seeming to accept the abrupt change of subject. “They’re walking the edge.”
“They can’t do much damage, Reist. They can barely break out one burst of magic.”
“The circle is only three months away for the eldest two. If they riot through the lower halls now...”
“They’ll be a disaster when they fill their veins with high magic.” She lifted her mug to him. “You know you sound exactly like Abelard.” Her gaze slid over his thick, dark hair. “Plan to lose every strand in a power duel?”
“Ava...your inner thief is showing.”
Playful words that would normally deepen her grin instead forced a hot blush over her face. She took a gulp of her tea, wanting to give the quick impression that it had caused her skin to flare. “I
am
a thief.”
Reist rested his forearms on the wide marble and watched Heyerdar. His thumbs rubbed over the pitted ceramic of his mug. “I want detailed reports on their actions, Ava. I’m trusting you. Whether they ascend or die comes from your evidence.”
The Highest Mage voice. Ava pressed her lips together. His new attitude had only had a few weeks of use, but it stuck pins under her skin. It didn’t belong to her longtime friend, the man who was her immediate master, the man who’d always given her so much freedom. Had just reminded her of that very fact. Reist now spoke with the voice and superior tone of the one who stood at the right hand of the emperor. It pushed the idea of him thinking of her as more than a friend further into the shadows.
“I know,” she murmured. “Have I ever let you down?”
He gave her that sly little look that always made her pulse jump. Sometimes she hated how his beauty drew her. “No.”
“So the reports to you before the Convocation tonight.”
Reist nodded. “Roald and Kare head the list.”
Those two took their ascension for granted. Watching them flout rules day after day had made her itch to put a blade to their throats and point out how lucky they were. They had the blood and bone to be mages. It was a privilege denied her.
Heyerdar’s movements had flowed into the final turn. She let herself enjoy his pure physicality. High magic was imbedded, hoarded and dammed in the flesh. It changed and purified its user. But old magic, like Heyerdar’s, like hers, came from another place, marked them in another way. Heyerdar was strength and muscles, passion and power. Even in the slow, easy turns of his body, she could see how lethal he was.
And living in the Institute for ten years, she also knew the fact of it. Old magic wound itself around death.
Heyerdar’s head bowed and a shimmer of golden light shrouded his body.
Ava expelled a slow sigh, envying the man his power. Her soul was empty and her natural talent—when she had the borrowed strength—came from the illegal gift of weaving deceit. Just like a thief.
She knocked back the last of her cooling tea and jabbed her thumb to the archway that wound its way back to his chamber. The sour burn in her chest was making her maudlin. “I should insinuate myself into the lower halls.”
“Remember to eat more.”
He no doubt expected a roll of her eyes, but she couldn’t. She was tired. She gave him a short nod. “Until tonight.”
Her gaze jumped to Heyerdar, watching him straighten.
The spy in her was curious. What did Reist have that could rival the captain’s obvious perfection? Heyerdar stood as the emperor’s Left Hand, the commander of the Imperial Guard. Did Fallon prefer mage magic over brute, animal force? Reist was the emperor’s Right Hand now, the most powerful mage in the empire. And mages were drawn to the power of their own. Fallon Braith would be no exception.
Heyerdar threw on a tunic in the shadows of the barracks and disappeared beneath a dark archway.
“You can break yourself away now, Ava.”
The tease in his voice would have made her laugh,
had
made her laugh in the past. Now...she worked the smile across her mouth. “He’s very pretty.”
“Your duty.”
She smoothed her hands down the rough nap of her linen cloak. “You know I chose this balcony simply for a fine view of him.” She didn’t wait for Reist’s reply, but trotted down the twisting steps and out to the corridor.
She followed the cuts of tunnels, halls and stairways to the lower levels. The apprentices were packed in down there, some of the younger ones practically semi-wild. The children came to the Institute already marked for the lower levels, the stain of a tattoo on the back of their necks. The first ward of the apprentice. She’d never witnessed the ceremony performed to mark someone worthy to hold magic in their flesh. Mages did love their secrets.
The initiates had to find the strength in themselves to drive out the darkness from their bones, become pure and ready to have magic burn within them...all by the time they were twenty-five. And some pushed too far, too close to the time when they were finally to become mages.
Dalit Roald and Elvio Kare were two such apprentices.
Slipping past the locks and heavy gates that marked the entrance to the apprentice chambers was easy. She moved through the shadows, wrapping them around herself. The smell of blood, of sex and the sharp stink of forbidden tinctures pierced the air. She breathed it in, let her lungs swell with it.
Shit.
She scrubbed a hand over her face. The thief in her warmed to the debauchery.
The mages liked to pretend that the wildness of the lower halls had never been a part of their youth. Mages purified themselves with high magic and devoted their lives to the pursuit of knowledge. Books—the knowledge pressed into vellum—fed them as meat fed her.
Her two marks didn’t want to leave the lower levels. As they approached twenty-five, they faced only two choices. They ascended. Or they died. Something in these two men’s minds was not working with that stark fact. Her report to Reist would either save them or condemn them.
Sounds of snuffled breathing, of low grunts and snores, followed her as she moved on silent feet down the ill-lit corridor. Her hand moved to the blade at her hip. Senses that marked them as a candidate to be a mage could—if they were sharp enough—pick out her strangeness in the shadows. Reist’s freedom gave her permission to defend herself how she saw fit. In her ten years, she’d cut more than one nosy apprentice.
