Magick Marked (The DarqRealm Series)

BOOK: Magick Marked (The DarqRealm Series)
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Forced into a world of ancient magick and fabled creatures, vampire Rhowen Vasile has been honored with the prestigious appointment of executioner—a promotion she never wanted. Now she has two important responsibilities: execute criminal vampires and protect her race’s Kamen, one of five ancient relics said to harness all magick in the DarqRealm.

When the Kamen Rho swore to protect goes missing, she’s assigned the most important task of her life—join an interracial team with a magick mover, a werewolf and a shape shifter to recover what’s been lost. If she fails, the executioner will become the executed, and the magick held within the relics could be lost forever.

As other Kamens start to disappear and the teammates struggle to trust one another, Rho discovers a physical bond with a powerful magick mover that shouldn’t be possible. With the survival of the entire DarqRealm compromised, she barely has time to deal with her temperamental teammates, much less a forbidden attraction. Rho and her team must put everything aside to find what they seek—before the enemy finds it first.

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chauntelle Baughman

 

Magick Marked

Copyright © 2013 by
Chauntelle Baughman
. All rights reserved.

[email protected]

First Kindle Edition: 2013

 

Edits by
Rhonda Helm

Cover Design by
Phatpuppy Creations
and
Bookish Brunette Designs

Formatting:
Streetlight Graphics

 

This eBook is licensed for the personal enjoyment of the original purchaser only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

 

Prologue

M
ohan watched the single drop of blood trickle from the blade in his hand, hitting the mirror lying on the ground. With a steady finger, he traced a pentagram in his blood. Candles flickered, casting light along the dim walls of his cell, flaring as he closed the circle around the star.
Finally.

Nine hundred and ninety-nine years and twenty-seven days had passed since they’d put him in this godforsaken slice of hell. Being virtually castrated of his powers was worse than never having had power at all. The blue flame he called into his palms barely flickered now, nothing but mere potential. Those hands of his only served as the reminder of what he’d once been.

What he could become again.

And now, finally, he might be strong enough to escape this place. He’d bribed guards and prisoners alike to get only the simple things he surrounded himself with. A knife. A mirror. Candles. A strand of hair from the strongest of his captors. All of these things made necessary just to give him a few seconds of time with the one person who could help him escape.

A woman he pretended to love.

The time was near. He could feel it, even if he couldn’t see it. The planets and stars were aligning themselves for the new millennia, generating a short-lived fissure in the magick connecting the human world with Etherealis.

He’d done nothing but consider the possibility of his escape for the last thousand years. And he’d generated a theory.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he stared into the mirror. Surely she hadn’t forgotten their last agreement. They’d made it long ago, agreeing to meet at the next weakness in the barrier. She was the beacon, the light in the darkness of this place, which could take him home.

If this worked, he’d know the crack in the barrier was starting. They’d only have a matter of months to assemble those Kamens and get him out of here. Reuniting those five magickal stones was the key to regaining control over all the magick in the DarqRealm, and the sole ticket to his escape. He’d owned all the magick in the world once before. And while it wouldn’t be easy to find the five pieces that had been separated and hidden away, he would do it again. His lips curved up at the thought of leaving these four walls behind.

“Mohan?” The female voice sounded hollow and distant.

Excitement stirred in his stomach. “Rhyannon?”

“Mohan, is that you?”

“You remembered.” Time was short, his patience even shorter, but she was the key to the whole plan. He needed to keep her baited.

“I told you I would, my love,” she answered.

“How I have missed the sound of your voice. Now quickly—we haven’t much time.” The syrupy-sweet tone sounded foreign coming from his lips, but he would give her what she needed to hear.

“Have you found a way out?”

“The Kamens.”

“What do you mean?”

Clank.
The mirror fractured, a fissure sliding down the shiny surface and stopping halfway through the plate of glass. He’d worried this would happen. Shoddy second-rate materials.

He spoke quickly. “You must assemble the Kamens. I need you to gather them for me, including the one in your possession.”

“All of them?”

“Yes. Gather all five and then bring them here. You can try to send them to me through the ley lines.”

She paused. “How can I send them through the lines? There is no connection to Etherealis anymore.”

Tink.
The crack widened.

“You know that’s not true! You talk to me now, and yet there is no physical connection between your dimension and mine. They were weak before and they are growing weaker now,” he said.

“Are you saying the weakness will grow?”

He shook his head, irritated with the incessant questions but forced his voice to remain gentle. “Yes, I believe it will. And at that weakest moment, you shall bring the Kamens.”

“And I shall free you of that place.”

Crunch.
The lifeline he clung so desperately to was unraveling, only a hair’s breadth away from complete loss. Her promise hung like a heavy weight against his chest.

“We’re out of time,” he said quickly.

“Mohan, I love you. I will come for you.”

“And I love—”

Snap.
The mirror broke completely. And what a snapshot of his life now, broken in two. The real man versus the performance artist.

At least he didn’t have to say those last few words out loud. Love was for the weak. Manipulation and patience, however? Those were gifts of the strong.

 

Chapter One

R
ho twirled the small red stone between her fingers, keeping it hidden in the pocket of her black leather jacket. On direct order from the Lamia King, the leader of the vampire nation, she was to keep the relic well protected. Why it needed protecting, she hadn’t a clue. But she knew better than to ask.

Trudging along the rocky path, she glanced up at the large limestone home. Her boss, the prince, had given her this address, although she’d been here before. This was the storefront for the online site where she bought the spelled ink for her tattoos. Of all the places she’d scoped out, this was the only one she’d found that could make the stuff with any consistency.

She extended a hand to knock on the door.

Apparently, the family of magick movers living here were some of the most highly acclaimed in Texas, the eldest brother the strongest of the three. If anyone knew how to protect the stone, he would.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound of her knuckles against wood echoed in the still silence of the night, although the magick movers inside surely knew she’d arrived before she ever knocked. Only a fool would leave his home unwarded.

A man cracked the door open. “Can I help you?”

She cleared her throat. “I’m looking for Eldon Tradare.”

“We’re not open right now.”

Damn, she’d been afraid of this. The store they ran out of their home only opened during the daylight hours, and her outdoor jaunts were restricted to the night. But these were unique circumstances.

“Please, this is a special case,” she petitioned.

The man sighed and pulled the door completely open. “What do you want?”

“Are you Eldon Tradare?”

The man stepped forward and leaned against the doorjamb, folding his muscled arms across his chest and crossing one foot casually over the other. Shaggy chestnut hair framed his magnificent blue eyes, clearer than the summer sky. Well, from what she remembered of the blue skies she’d seen as a human. She hadn’t seen one in years.

“That depends on who’s asking,” the man answered.

Oh, great. A wise guy. “I’m Rhowen Vasile of the Vasile coven, but you can call me Rho. The Collective referred me. I’m here to ask a favor.”

“My sisters and I don’t do favors for vampires.”

Fucking fantastic. A wise guy
and
a pain in the ass. “I’ll pay you. Handsomely.”

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