Warlock's Charm (3 page)

The slave collars men like Gregory Asher had used kept their
victims totally helpless. Those vile slave collars had been invented centuries
ago by witch hunters to completely inhibit the witch’s or warlock’s magical
abilities, while using the collar as a conduit to give them the enslaved
warlock’s or witch’s gifts.

Essentially, those in covens like the Bloodbayne Coven stole
the witch’s or warlock’s magic and their magic was only restored when the
collars were removed or disabled. This hunger for power was the driving force
behind enslaving so many of the colonists.

That damn Oliver White would have tried using one of those
collars on her, had she not been frightened awake by a night terror. Somehow,
he’d broken past her protective charms and made his way into her bedroom.

Luckily for her, he’d been so distracted by her screaming
fit, as she’d been roused by a night terror, that she’d been able to gain the
upper hand against him magically, and in a flash she’d created another living
wax doll to add to Damien’s already impressive collection.

Anya had been tempted to throw many of the witch hunters
who’d come for her into the fire after they’d battled it out and she’d emerged
victorious.

They always expected a sweet little witch. And were
unprepared when it came to fighting her. They believed her to be a passive,
nature-loving witch who wasn’t schooled on how to defend herself with magic and
therefore their moment of surprised confusion gave her the upper hand. That
coupled with the fact that she wasn’t afraid to fight as dirty as they fought
to keep her freedom. Her mother had always told her to do whatever she had to
do to stay free.

That was the fatal mistake her ancestors made—they had been
far too kind, trusting and truly gentle individuals who only wanted to live
freely and practice their craft on the new colony planet of Vanguard Prime.

They had been promised the freedom to do so by Damien’s
great-grandfather, Gregory Asher, who had been the first settler to put his
feet on Vanguard Prime.

Unfortunately, Gregory had lusted for absolute power on
Vanguard, having been sent there from Earth to lead the colonization. The
powers that be back on Earth never wanted him to be the devil in human guise
that he’d been.

Those who placed him in his seat of power couldn’t have
predicted what he would do once they were so far from Earth.

Space travel had come a long way since then. Back during her
grandmother’s time it had taken twice as long to travel from Earth to Vanguard Prime
and the communication channels weren’t nearly as advanced as they were now.

That meant that Vanguard had been terribly isolated and
Gregory had been free to inflict his reign of terror on the unsuspecting
colonists.

He was supposed to be a benevolent leader, instead he’d been
the devil in human form. He’d used his sons, the powerful Asher Brothers, as
his enforcers and after luring the witch and warlock colonists into a false
sense of security, he’d sent his hellish witch hunters out to destroy their peaceful
happiness in the dead of night.

Most families were caught unaware. The majority of the
witches and warlocks who settled on Vanguard had no clue about magical
combat—those who attempted to resist were slaughtered, those that attempted to
escape and failed were hanged, burned at the stake or sold into slavery.

Even the famed Ross Amulet had been no match for the
combined power of the witch hunters and most of all, the Asher Brothers who
united their terribly fierce magic. Together they’d been an unstoppable force
of evil.

Her mother had told her grim stories of the Asher Brothers’
horrific deeds during the Bloodbayne Terror, and her tales made Anya imagine
them to be devil incarnates.

Ebony Ross had been alone in her valiant stand against them.
She had been the only one prepared to fight back. She alone had the training to
use her magic to defend those she loved. Ebony had left Earth and traveled to
Vanguard with her grandfather and daughter. Her grandfather was too frail to be
of any help, what’s more, his power had been half the might of Ebony’s. Anya’s
mother had fought alongside Ebony but they’d been unmatched and ultimately
faced defeat.

After Ebony’s defeat, the Asher Brothers had taken the Ross
Amulet from her and attempted to corrupt its formidable power for their own
vile means, not knowing that the amulet’s power could only be harnessed by a
true Ross.

Driven by desperation to save her only child, Anya’s mother,
Angelica, Ebony sacrificed herself and her mother escaped a death sentence, finding
herself orphaned at the tender age of fifteen.

Alas, Ebony’s sacrifice saved her daughter’s life but it had
not saved Angelica from a grim fate as a slave. During their last showdown
against Gregory’s sons, Ebony told Angelica to run.

She’d done what her mother had told her to do but
unfortunately she’d had no way off Vanguard and the Asher Brothers pursued
Angelica ruthlessly. Alone and afraid, she had been no match for Dexter Asher
and his brother Bradley, and within days Angelica was reunited with her mother
in the Salem City Courthouse and Jail, where they both awaited their trials and
sentencing.

As the local magistrate, Gregory had presided over their
trial. During her trial, Ebony convinced Gregory that her daughter hadn’t
inherited her impressive magical gift and he’d believed her.

Instead, they sentenced Ebony and her grandfather to death
and sold Angelica to another prominent New Mercian family, where she’d worked
as a house slave on one of their many plantations scattered across the vast
Province. There Angelica suffered unimaginable abuse.

As a result, Angelica was forced to mature beyond her years
and she had carried the heaviness of her family’s tragic fate with her.

The poplar trees that lined the streets of New Salem City’s
downtown whispered their haunting song as a gentle wind blew. She knew why she
hadn’t yet returned to Earth—the serene beauty of Vanguard had seduced her.
Even when she’d been off world she’d felt drawn back to this place.

Sounds of the late-afternoon traffic hummed through the air.
The park across the street was bustling with mimes and other street performers
attempting to make some coin.

A stand boasting potions for any occasion caught her eye.
The little old lady tending it looked like she was nearing one hundred years of
age. Her snow-white hair was piled up on top of her head. Her magic swirled
around her, creating quite a show, as it either exploded into colorful
fireworks or sang a song that enthralled those who passed by.

The woman’s power was probably quite minimal given the fact
that she was selling her magical wares. She could probably weave spells that
would entrance those around her who weren’t gifted with magic but like so many
others on Vanguard Prime she would be worthless in magical combat. The woman
was only a magical artist, and Anya loved seeing them but knew their limited
talents made them vulnerable to those who would seek to destroy them.

The woman looked up from what she was doing and their eyes
connected. She gave Anya a soft smile and then went back to selling her potions
and performing her quaint exhibition.

That was what Anya liked about Vanguard—for the most part
the horror that had surrounded her mother’s and grandmother’s lives had
vanished, and the world was now what it had always been meant to be—a haven for
those with magical abilities.

The tranquility of the moment was rudely interrupted by the
sound of a violent car crash. The shockingly horrific noise caught her
attention and she looked up to see one of the flying cars they used on Vanguard
hanging halfway out of the building across the street.

Everything started moving in slow motion.

Anya had to help the passengers in the vehicle before they
caught on fire…she moved forward and raised her arm to work magic when she felt
something prick the side of her neck. Reaching up to swat the pesky insect
away, she was stunned to pull out a tiny Bloodbayne dart. Dreadful recognition
swirled through her, and she felt queasy.

How could he stoop so low? Her husband already scraped the
bottom of the barrel with his recent affront against her, how desperate could
he bloody well get?

“You sodding bastard, Damien,” she muttered, weakness
invading her body. From her peripheral vision, she watched as Damien strode
closer to her so he could catch her before her body hit the pavement. Damn him,
even in his most devious cunning, he still held concern for her well-being.

Anya’s heart broke again in that instant and tears filled
her eyes, as she was momentarily robbed of breath. She had to get out of here,
she had to use her powers to blink herself to another location, but the poison
in the dart already made its way through her bloodstream, completely
incapacitating her.

The scene of the car crash faded before her eyes as stars
danced throughout her vision. A black canopy would soon settle over her.

She’d been duped by one of his mystical illusions. She
should have known it was an illusion for the little old lady still stood
selling her wares as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

Had a tragic crash really just happened the older woman and
the little old lady would have been trying to help. She was so stupid; she had
been so easily fooled.

“Curse you straight to hell, Damien. I’ll get you back for
this, I swear I will.”

“I’m sure you will, my darling girl,” he murmured,
collecting her into his arms. “Your revenge will have to be served cold,
sweetheart, because right now, I’m taking my wife home.”

Damien brushed Anya’s black hair off her forehead and waited
for the car to arrive at Silver Gables. Silver Gables was a thirty-minute car
flight from New Salem City. Situated in the most picturesque part of Shadow
Flare County, it had its own lake and a river, extensive hunting grounds and
several silver mines.

He’d purchased it for Anya after learning that Ebony once
lived on a portion of the land. Her modest house, also named Silver Gables, had
been built a short distance away from the stunningly beautiful lake that sparkled
like the finest aquamarines during the day.

Gregory burned that house to the ground and confiscated the
land during the Bloodbayne Terror. Damien purchased it after Gregory’s death,
and now the entire estate was a working one where he employed hundreds of men
and women.

Damien owned many other properties on Vanguard Prime including
several mines that produced a variety of rare gems, not to mention the Mercia
Crystal Mines. The early settlers had discovered the crystals and learned that
they were an invaluable clean energy source.

One crystal could keep New Salem City powered for one year
without changing it, and outside of Vanguard they fetched a bloody fortune,
which made him one hell of a rich man.

In total, the estate grounds surrounding Silver Gables
covered an area of about sixty thousand acres, and as such it was the largest
estate in New Mercia. He held no guilt when it came to Silver Gables as he
hadn’t used any Asher money to buy it, only Forsythe money, which he felt was
the right thing to do. Considering the fact that the Asher fortune was
ill-gotten.

Damien wanted to woo Anya back into his heart and the first
step to doing that was pissing her off to no end. If he had to endure her wrath
when the drug in the dart finally wore off then he’d have to go through a few
minutes of temper tantrum hell.

Hopefully, the payoff would be worth the cost and he’d be
able to keep her from blowing him up until the hard shell around her heart
softened.

He had to give her props for the ingenuity she’d displayed by
taking Stopper’s place. He hadn’t seen through her charade until lunch time
when she’d brought him a meal that Stopper never would have brought him.

The man thought he should eat healthy while Anya didn’t care
about his health at the moment and so therefore had brought him one of his
favorite guilty pleasures—a bacon mushroom cheeseburger with ooey gooey poutine
fries accompanied by a delectable butter tart for dessert.

Such a small slip-up and yet it had been her ultimate
undoing. As soon as she’d brought him the absolutely delicious lunch and left
his office he’d covertly set his plans in motion.

“I love you, Anya,” he murmured.

Her eyelids fluttered erratically as if she’d heard him
through her deep slumber. He’d been advised that the drug in the dart would
keep her under for at least an hour and that was taking in the supernatural
power that ran through her blood.

The Bloodbaynes were a powerful coven of witch hunters. In
fact, they were the original and oldest order of witch hunters. His
grandfather, Dexter Asher, and his Great Uncle Bradley had once been prized
members, as had their father, Gregory Asher before them. Unfortunately, his
family tree was full of the ruddy buggers.

He knew how to make up the drug in the dart but thought he
should leave it to the professionals since his witch hunting days were long
behind him. As soon as he’d claimed Anya for the first time, he’d realized in
that blissful instant that he could never go back to the hunt even though he
only hunted those who used dark magic.

Before his death, his father had systematically gone about
freeing all of the witches and warlocks his grandfather had enslaved in his
heyday.

Despite the fact that Earth had finally intervened during
the Bloodbayne Terror, they had not punished Dexter Asher for his misdeeds, nor
had they freed the slaves. Instead they had instructed Damien’s father, Daniel
Forsythe, to set everything to rights as he had been given the responsibility
of leading Vanguard into a peaceful era.

An elected government now ran the planet and therefore made
sure that the dreadful deeds of the past were never repeated.

Though his grandfather’s actions repulsed him deeply, it was
his paternal great-grandfather who had been even worse. Gregory sired and
molded his grandfather and uncle into being psychopathic witch hunters.

It still confounded him on how his great-aunt Blanche could
be such a sweetheart when she’d been raised by such a vile and emotionless
monster.

Gregory Asher had been a devil of a man; pure brimstone must
have been in his blood for it had been he who had decided to put disobedient
slaves to the stake, resurrecting an atrocity from Earth’s ancient past that
never should have been visited upon one of its colonized planets.

He alone had been the driving force behind Dexter and
Bradley’s evil deeds. He had been the one who had signed Ebony’s death warrant.
Dexter and Bradley hadn’t wanted to kill Ebony. Instead they’d wanted her for a
sex slave, so they could force her to give them pleasure while also benefiting
from her strong gift over the magical arts.

Damien knew Anya secretly wondered if he could be capable of
such vile deeds and he only hoped to convince her that he would never dream of
casting that much suffering upon innocents.

He would seduce the fight out of her and prove to her
through his lovemaking that she’d wed a prince, and not a monster of a man who
cared only for his own selfish gain.

His father had cemented their financial security by falling
in love with his mother—at the time, he hadn’t realized she was an heiress from
Earth. When he married her, she’d convinced him to give all of the Asher
fortune to those who had suffered so cruelly at their hands.

Damien could only pray that he could make both of his
parents proud by continuing their good deeds and therefore cleansing the bad
karma that his great-grandfather’s actions caused his descendants by doing all
he could for the families who had suffered at the tyrannical hands of the Asher
family.

Damien prayed that Anya would welcome him back into his heart
and that together they could rid the universe of the witch hunters who went
after witches and warlocks like Anya, instead of going after those who darkly
twisted the craft to cause agony to others and so therefore deserved the wrath
of the witch hunters.

As his chauffeur pulled up to the enchanting plantation
house he’d called Silver Gables, he got out of the limo and reached back in for
his lady love.

She was still in a comatose state and he had about ten
minutes before she awoke like a raving she-devil. She had the temper of a
demoness when she was riled but inside she had the heart of an angel. He
desperately wanted that angel’s bliss again. He’d had enough of the she-devil’s
burning wrath, for when her temper was up and her powers were on fire her eyes
lit with garnet-colored flames that could only be compared to the flames of hell.

He sometimes wondered if that was what she was, if she’d
been sent by a divine force to stand against those who would do evil things to
the people who could not or would not fight back against their oppressors.

He cradled her lovingly in his arms and proceeded to walk up
the steps to the front door. Having her in his arms made him all the more
certain of his actions up to this point. He couldn’t exist without her. He
couldn’t live his life without her in it. From the first moment they’d met,
he’d known she was his only reason for being. When she regained consciousness
he would have one hell of an angry witch on his hands and while most men
wouldn’t be looking forward to that, he anticipated it greatly. Watching Anya
with her anger riled and her magic activated made his heart thrill.

The staff he kept at Silver Gables could be trusted for
their discretion, and he knew that whatever kind of hell Anya unleashed it
would never leave the hallowed halls of the house he’d built for his beloved
bride.

His butler whisked the door open and gave him his usual brusque
greeting. The stern and anxious gaze he cast toward his mistress caused Damien
the slightest bit of alarm. He hoped that Reeves didn’t try to help Anya. He
didn’t need him to complicate an already convoluted state of affairs!

“No matter what the house staff hears, Reeves, I want
complete and utter privacy until we ring for someone, is that clear?”

“Crystal clear, sir. I will make sure that everyone minds
their own business. In fact, I’ll keep them busy cleaning out the entire
downstairs until it’s time to retire to bed. As none of us are charmed in the
ways of magic like you and the missus it will take them a mighty long time to
get everything cleaned to my and Mrs. Reeves’ standards.”

“Very good, Reeves, wish me luck,” he said, winking at his
butler he walked up the winding flight of steps to the massive master suite.

Anya started stirring in his arms before he got the bedroom door
shut. She fluttered her eyelids open and looked at him with a slightly woozy
look in her dark eyes. Gradually, he watched her become fully alert. Confusion
in her gaze turned to all-out holy hell ferocity.

He was in for it now!

* * * * *

Anya’s stomach did a nosedive as pent-up rage sliced through
her body like a knife. The anger was so powerful it literally caused her bodily
pain. She stared up at him, and struggled to decide whether she should go into
a full-out rampage against him or simmer slowly until the time was right for
her to boil over.

As she wasn’t one to take her time to do anything she only
had one true option, she had to do him a solid and show him that he never
should have kept things from her—he should have told her he had Asher blood
running through him when they first met on that cold rainy day one year ago.

“I thought we’d have our wedding night you denied me here
instead of on the planet you originally wanted to visit for our honeymoon.” His
voice was calm almost as if he was attempting to ignore everything that had
gone on between them in the months since their wedding day.

She almost got lulled along with him into his make-believe
reality. His deep, melodious voice always had that power over her. Since the
day she’d met him he’d been able to mesmerize her just by opening his mouth.

“Put me down,” she ordered, her voice quivering with
emotion. She clamped her mouth shut and fought uselessly against grinding her
teeth together in frustration.

“If I put you down, will you act like a grown-up instead of
behaving like the petulant child you’ve been acting like for the last few
months?”

Anger shot through her in a renewed hot flash. How dare he
call her a child! Did he think she was acting out because she hadn’t been happy
with her overly extravagant wedding?

The kind of grand affair she’d railed against. The kind of
affair she’d begged him not to throw for her. Instead he’d gone against her
wishes and lavished her with everything any bride’s heart could ever desire. The
only problem was she wasn’t any bride. She’d been taught the true meaning of
what really mattered in life.

Her mother had stressed to her that it wasn’t the
materialistic things in life they needed but the people—and by people, she had
meant family. Growing into a woman without her mother, father and grandfather
put that in perspective for Angelica.

Anya only wished that Damien could understand that. Maybe he
just couldn’t fathom the kind of deep love that drove Ebony to sacrifice
herself for Angelica…and if that was the case, he could never love Anya the way
she yearned to be loved.

If he simply thought of her as his possession, their
marriage could never work even if she could reconcile herself to the prospect
of being married to a man with Asher blood running through his veins.

And yet, she hadn’t been angry with him for going against
her wishes concerning their wedding. She’d instead taken it in her stride,
thinking he wanted her to have a gushy reaction. She gave him the reaction he’d
wanted because she thought it was important for him to have a huge shindig,
instead of a nice small intimate affair.

Only when she’d discovered that his grandfather was the
infamous Dexter Asher and had been one half of the Asher Brothers had she lost
it totally and completely.

If they hadn’t already been declared husband and wife and
witch and warlock, she would have left him at the altar. As it was, she left
him at the reception because she couldn’t bear to look at his Auntie Blanche.
She still bore the surname of Asher despite being a widow.

According to Damien, when his father married his mother he
took his mother’s maiden name as his own, turning them into Forsythes instead
of Ashers in a bid to cleanse the family karma.

Regardless, Damien seemed all too fond of his great-aunt and
that unsettled her deeply. He had muttered something about his aunt not being
like the rest of her family, and he claimed to have a cousin who wasn’t a bad
egg as well even if she too, still bear the Asher name.

She supposed he meant Blanche had been a black sheep and
maybe she had been the one who had steered the family back to the side of
good—she hadn’t waited long enough for Damien to get to that part, so she
filled in the gaps the way she wished it to be.

Her mother survived the hysteria concerning the witches and
warlocks on Vanguard thanks to Ebony’s sacrifice, and eventually she’d escaped
the Colony for the peaceful haven of Earth.

It had been a tough journey for her and she’d almost been
sold once again into the slave trade—this time, however, she would have been a
pleasure slave instead of a labor slave.

Once Anya had been old enough to hear it, Angelica had told
her about the sexual abuse she’d endured as a house slave on a Vanguard
Plantation, and that no matter what she could not go back to that kind of life.