Magic Hunter: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Vampire's Mage Series Book 1) (22 page)

R
osalind heated
the silver kettle in the cavernous stone fireplace, breathing in the strong, herbal aroma of Orcus’s coffee. Since she’d met the night demons, her schedule had become completely screwed up. Strong coffee at seven p.m.—in a vast, stony living room—seemed a perfectly reasonable idea.

Tammi sat cross-legged in a mahogany chair, stretching her arms over her head. “I’ve never in my life slept as well as I have here. I don’t know if Orcus is lacing our tea with opiates or if I’m just suited to sleeping during the day, but I feel amazing. What did Orcus say this place was called, again? I want to take up residence.”

Rosalind sat across from her. “Abduxiel mansion. And, apparently, we’re welcome here as long as we’re in good standing with the night demons. It’s kind of like a sanctuary for Nyxobas’s allies.”

Tammi sipped her coffee. “I wouldn’t mind if a gorgeous vamp or two came in. I’ve read through half the library by now, and it’s full of epic poems about hellhounds and angels of death. Not really my thing.”

“I’ll ask Orcus if he can find us some billionaire romances.”

Tammi crossed her legs. “Speaking of romances—what’s the deal with you and Caine?”

“The deal is that he’s an incubus who flirts with everyone. Oh, and I nearly tortured his brother to death. We’re not really well-suited.”

“After Josiah, I’m not sure you can be trusted to choose your own boyfriends.”

Rosalind flinched. “You have a point.”

Josiah, for all his idiocy, had managed to lure her into trusting him. And what he’d done to Miranda had been even worse.

Though Orcus had forbidden it, Rosalind had been sneaking out during the day to search Cambridge’s streets for her sister. She’d been desperate to feel that briny aura tingling over her skin, but she hadn’t sensed the slightest glimmer. Then again, if Miranda was still wearing the iron ring, Rosalind wouldn’t be able to sense her at all.

Footsteps echoed through the room, and Rosalind turned to see Orcus, his head covered by a hood. “Rosalind. There is someone here to see you.”

Her pulse began to race, and she stood.
Miranda?

Rosalind rushed through the door into the main hall, hurried over the marble floor, and pulled open the oak entrance. A tall figure lingered in the doorway, and the rosy sunset cast him in silhouette.
Caine.
Her breathing quickened.

“Rosalind. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

He took her hand, his touch sending shivers over her skin, and led her out into the fresh spring air. The sunset hung hot in the sky like a ripe peach, bathing his skin in a tawny light. Around the gravestones, violet bluebells and broken acorns blanketed the grass.

Caine stopped by a towering oak, turning to look at her. “Ambrose has sent his men out to search for Miranda. Nothing to report so far.”

“I’ve been looking for her too,” Rosalind said.

“You’re supposed to stay here. The Brotherhood want to murder you.”

“You can’t stop me from looking for her, just like I could never stop you from going after Malphus.”

“Except that I
could
stop you.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “Fine. I see your point.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a brother in there?”

He peered down at her, and the ruddy light stained his gray eyes a coral color. “If Josiah had known Malphus was my brother, Malphus wouldn’t be alive right now. I’m not going to give up my secrets without a very good reason.”

The lack of trust stung, but she couldn’t blame him. After all, she had helped Josiah break him. “Miranda told me Malphus used to give me flowers. Is that true?”

“He did. I wasn’t as nice
.
”

“I want to meet him. If he doesn’t hate me now.”

“You’ll meet him. Ambrose still has big plans for us.”

“Plans that involve finding Miranda?”

“That’s the first step. The Brotherhood will no longer be stupid enough to rely on technology the way they did. They’ll be amassing an army of their own, and Ambrose wants to crush them with magic.”

A shiver ran up her spine. “When Cleo was hammering Randolph with a spell, he protected himself with… magic. It was a different sort of magic. He was speaking in Latin, and his body glowed a golden color.”

Caine nodded. “They don’t use Angelic. But they have their own sort of magic. They give it another name. That’s all.”

Rosalind let her eyes trail over Caine’s muscled frame, clad in a form-fitting black shirt. “Do Ambrose’s plans involve me reporting to you as my commanding officer?”

A smile flickered over his lips. “Mmm. Yes. You’ll be required to follow all of my orders.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Fair warning. There are a lot of female vamps in the army who will be competing for my attention. Can you blame them, honestly?”

She cocked a hip. “It must be quite a hardship for you to live in a vampire city. No mirrors.”

“Nyxobas gives me the strength to endure. Speaking of Lilinor, I need to return before sundown, but I’ll come back as soon as I hear anything.” He nodded at the mansion. “You’re safe here, but stay in Abduxiel Mansion.”

Giving orders again.
She crossed her arms, shooting him an irritated glare as he turned to leave.

He walked a few steps before pausing to turn back to her. “Stay here if you want, I mean. Your choice.”

As he walked off to the crypt portal, a small smile curled her lips. For the first time in a while, something unclenched in her chest.

She now lived with a grim reaper in a cemetery, and her twin sister was missing. Yet after all the tumult of the past few days, she felt a strange sense of normalcy.

If nothing else, they were all alive—and somewhere deep within Rosalind, a sense of belonging was budding.

W
e hope
you enjoyed
Magic Hunter
.

If you’d like a
free copy
of
Shadow Mage,
a short story from Caine’s point of view, just sign up to our email list at
www.cncrawford.com
. We’ll send you a copy of
Shadow Mage
straight away.

Thanks for reading!

W
e love hearing
from our readers so don’t hesitate to send us an email, even if it’s just to say hi. We respond to almost everyone who writes. You can email us at
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.

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W
e thank
our wonderful editor Tammi Labreque; our cover designer Rebecca Frank; and our proofreader Sara Pinnell. Thanks also to Cady Vance for her input and advice. We also thank our ARC team and Author’s Corner for their inspiration and moral support.

And a huge thanks to Michael Omer who has given amazing feedback on all of our books.

C
.N
. Crawford is not one person but two. We write our novels collaboratively, passing our laptops back and forth to edit each other's words.

Christine (C) grew up in New England and has a lifelong interest in local folklore - with a particular fondness for creepy old cemeteries. Nick (N) spent his childhood reading fantasy and science fiction during Vermont's long winters.

Our first book,
The Witching Elm
, was published in 2014.

In addition to writing fiction, we love to hear from our readers and can be reached at any of the following links. We always reply to our readers.

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or the Council
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