Storm On The Horizon, a paranormal Regency romance novella (Vallen) (2 page)

“Maybe not,” Kit replied.

“No, maybe not,” his father agreed, resignation filling his voice. “How about the redhead? Redheads are mostly Vallen, aren’t they?”

“I don’t know.” Kit’s eyes sought out the girl to whom his father was referring. He found her and winced. She was indeed a redhead—vibrantly so, with brilliant orange hair and a laugh so loud it carried clear across the ballroom.

“She could definitely be Vallen,” Lord Durrington said. “Why don’t you…”

“No. Too loud,” Kit objected before his father could even complete his sentence.

“Well, you’ve got to go after some of them, Kit. You can’t just reject every single one out of hand.” His father’s voice was beginning to get testy.

Kit sighed. He’d have to do something to appease him soon or else he’d never hear the end of it. They’d come here expressly to find a wife for him among the new debutants. Last year’s batch had been extremely disappointing; his father was becoming impatient. He wanted Kit to marry, and to marry well. Pressure from Kit’s grandfather wasn’t helping things any either. The old Lord Vallentyn wasn’t going to live forever, and although he had an heir in his own son, he was determined to ensure the continuation of the line through Kit. And his wife had to be Vallen.

But how could one tell if a girl was Vallen or not? It was nearly impossible.

“Charisma,” the old man had said when the question had been posed to him originally. “Either that or talent. Some sort of talent. Go to those…” he waved his hand aimlessly about, “… salons. See who is singing. Who is painting. Who is doing something bold and exciting. That is where you’ll find the Vallen.”

His father hated attending “those salons”, so instead they’d come to the first official ball of the season to see the debutants. Surely, among the finest of
ton
they could find some appropriate girls.

“What about her?” Lord Durrington nodded toward a new girl. She had not been there for long, but already she was surrounded by a swarm of young bucks.

“I can’t even see her.”

“Precisely! There’s got to be a real beauty with definite charisma to attract a crowd like that. She must be the daughter of someone important, as well.”

Kit scowled. “Well, which do you want—someone important or someone Vallen?”

“Both.”

Kit turned toward his father, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” his father said. “If a girl’s father is an earl or marquess, he’s most likely someone in Parliament and, even more importantly, he is wealthy. If he is all of those things, there’s a good chance that he’s a Vallen as well. You need to marry up, Christopher. You need a girl from a wealthy, important family.”

“It’s not good enough that you’re going to be a viscount when Grandfather dies? Not enough that you are already somebody in Parliament?”

His father scowled at that. “I’m not nearly as important as you could be if you marry well. And your grandfather isn’t ever going to die. At least not before me. I’ve got to see you well married. I know you—you’ll never do it on your own.”

“You’re not going to die any time soon. I’ve got plenty of time,” Kit argued.

“You need time to establish yourself with your in-laws, so that when you inherit you’ll start out in a good position.”

Kit sighed. He’d given up trying to convince his father that he was not at all interested in becoming influential in Parliament. It was easier just to go along, rather than continuing to bang his head against the stone wall that was his father’s ambition.

“Look at that one there,” his father gestured to the last girl. She was still surrounded, although just at the moment they could see a glimpse of her between the men hovering about. “She’s probably the daughter of some marquess or even a duke. She’s pretty. Go and use your magic to charm her. You can easily make her forget about all of her other suitors. You’ll be married by the end of the season.”

“And what if she’s a harridan? What if she’s…?”

“Does it really matter? All you need to do is marry her, bed her once and be done with it. You don’t even need to speak with the chit except every now and again to get on good terms with her father. Look at her! I don’t know that I’ve ever seen anyone surrounded by so many idiots all at once. She must be using magic, a siren call to attract them all.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then I’m certainly not interested. You know my position on Vallen using their powers…”

“To get what they want. Yes. It is completely ridiculous. You have these powers for a reason, Christopher. There’s nothing wrong with using them.”

“We don’t have them in order to create an unfair advantage over those who don’t,” Kit argued.

“Well, she clearly does have power, so go use yours with her,” he nodded his head, once again, toward the young woman they could barely see.

T
atiana just could not get beyond the behavior of the men surrounding her sister. At first they had been polite, bowing and scraping to both of them. But now there were too many clambering around Trina. Tatiana was rudely shoved out of the way—one imbecile even going so far as to step on her toes. They looked like they hadn’t seen a pretty girl in years and were starving for good looks.

This was, naturally, just what Tatiana had hoped would happen. This was a good thing, she reminded herself yet again. This is what she had wanted. Wasn’t it?

A man backed up, nearly stepping on her. “Beg your pardon,” he said, giving her a quick once over with his eyes. He narrowed his eyes at her, “Are you…?”

Tatiana drew herself up. “Miss Tatiana Ashurst,” she replied, before he could finish.

His eyebrows drew together, looking like he was thinking very hard about this. “Related to the beauty?”

“Her twin sister.”

“Younger?” he asked.

Tatiana had barely given a nod of acknowledgment, when he turned his back on her and moved back toward the crowd surrounding Trina.

Fury burned its way into the pit of Tatiana’s stomach. She looked up, contemplating the ceiling. Why were they not outside so that she could teach this dolt a lesson and call down a bolt of lightning?

“You’re the beauty’s sister?” another man asked, pulling her attention back down.

Tatiana nodded hesitantly.

“Lord Marchness.” He gave her a slight bow.

Tatiana curtseyed properly, her anger beginning to dissipate. Finally, a gentleman!

“Could you introduce me?” he asked, his eyes sliding over to Trina and the crowd surrounding her.

Tatiana could hear the anger inside of her blowing into a storm. Quickly, she tamped it down before the wind and lightning became a reality. For a second, the vision of wigs flying and a ballroom full of people being buffeted by a gale flashed across her mind’s eye. She shoved the vision aside and instead imagined the man before her as a toad. Why had she never developed that power? She knew it was possible. Power over fire and the weather was all well and good, but she needed some way to pinpoint her magic in order to smite one imbecile at a time. Perhaps she could set him on fire—just a little blaze, maybe on his coat tails.

“Could you?” he asked again. “Would you?”

“No, I will not.” She turned her back on him and took a step closer to her grandmother, giving the man the cut direct.

Proud of herself for controlling her anger and doing the right thing, she allowed herself the pleasure of imagining the screams of shock and horror that would, if they had been outside, be surrounding her in a symphony of revenge. But no, bringing the wind inside had not been a good idea—she could admit that now. A torrential downpour, on the other hand... She would become as soaked as well as everyone else, it was true, but she didn’t really mind. These people deserved… ooh, she wanted to see fear in their eyes, terror on their faces. How dare these men treat her this way? Did they not realize that not only was she an extremely powerful Vallen—she was probably one of the most powerful in the country? In the world? Did they not know who she was? Who she was going to be? That she was descended from the great Morgan Le Fey, sister to the terrifying Nimu� who alone removed the Isle of Avalon from the world?

“No, really, Miss, bad form.” Tatiana’s thoughts were broken into by a male voice—and a lovely scent of musk and something else… ink?

Tatiana blinked, and found that not only had she turned back towards the flock of men around her sister, but had raised one arm with a vengeful finger pointed directly at Lord Marchness. Sparks of blue energy were dancing around the tip of her finger.

The man who’d spoken to her gently took her hand and the sparks soothed away. It felt as if a warm blanket had been gently laid over her magic.

Tatiana had to swallow, as possibly the most handsome man she had yet seen led her hand to his lips, bowing over it, as if they’d just been introduced. His dark blue coat set off to perfection pale blue eyes set deeply under golden eyebrows. A small smile placed a dimple just under sharp cheekbones. The temperature all around her had gone up about five degrees, but he didn’t seem to even notice.

The kiss he placed on the back of her hand burned through her glove, sharper than any magic, and sent a wave of heat straight from her hand, up her arm, down to her toes. “I know you wouldn’t do anything inappropriate in a public setting such as this,” he said, his smile growing.

Tatiana cleared her throat, inhaled his strongly masculine scent, and found her voice again. “No. No, of course not.” She made sure the heat all around them completely dissipated. Could she be any more ashamed of herself? Not only had she been angry that she was being treated in the exact way she had said she wanted to be treated, but she’d been caught when she’d been about to use magic against an innocent—albeit extremely rude—man.

Tatiana shrank down slightly. So much for her wonderful self-control. Thank goodness her mother hadn’t been here to see this. She would have been confined to her room for a week, just like the last time.

The man’s eyes slid to the gentlemen surrounding her sister. “Even if they deserved it,” he added.

“They do! You do not know how rude and, and…” She was just going to bury herself further if she went on, wasn’t she? She had been wrong. Wrong from the start. Tatiana should do nothing, say nothing. For once she would do the smart thing and keep her thoughts, and magic, to herself.

“I can’t imagine how anyone could be rude to you,” the gentleman said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Some people are simply stupid. Single-minded. Clearly these fellows have gotten it into their minds that they must present themselves to… who is that, your sister? They will not rest until they have been out on the floor with her, proving themselves better than all the others clamoring for her attention. Please, do not take it personally. It’s more a matter of besting each other than anything else.”

His voice played like silk over Tatiana’s skin. She could feel his words glide over her. She nearly sighed with the luscious feeling. “Are you using magic to seduce me, sir?”

The man looked truly stricken, as if she had just slapped him. “I beg your pardon. I was not doing so intentionally.”

Immediately, Tatiana was sorry for her words. He was being kind and generous and she had said something hurtful.

He moved a step away from her.

What was it? Why would he be angry if she knew he was using magic? She’d meant for her words to be light and teasing. Tatiana was thoroughly confused, and annoyed with herself. She took another small step closer to him.

“No. It is fine. I mean, I don’t know if you were or not, it is just that you, you…” She didn’t know how to politely describe how good he’d made her feel, and was completely unsure of what, in this sort of situation, was appropriate. He was a stranger to her and yet he made her feel so good, so happy. Was it not magic? Could it have been something else?

Now she was beginning to question her own abilities. No, she knew magic. She knew what it felt like. He may not have meant to use his magic to charm her, but she was certain his voice had been laden with it. Could he not know how powerful he is?

The man cocked his head, waiting for her to finish her sentence.

Tatiana swallowed hard. Putting all caution aside, she went for the direct approach. “You make me feel good. Happy. And you took away my anger, which was about to make me do something very inappropriate. Thank you,” she finished, hoping she didn’t sound weak.

The smile returned to the gentleman’s face. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. And I do apologize for those oafs.”

Tatiana gave a shrug, letting her previous anger fizzle out. “It’s all right. Trina deserves it. Honestly, I’m happy she’s getting so much attention.”

“Trina? Is that your sister?”

“Yes. Ekaterina Ashurst. Would you like me to introduce you?” Tatiana was shocked by the words coming from her own mouth. What was with her this evening? She didn’t want to introduce this man to Trina. She wanted him all for herself. Not that she could do anything more than have one pleasant evening in his company, a cruel voice in the back of her mind reminded her.

“No. Thank you,” he said, with a smile that would warm any young woman on the coldest of days. “It was very kind of you to offer, but I’m very happy here, speaking with you.”