Kindle Unlimited
EXCERPTS
Catching
Meara
Meara
had been seconds from revelation, mere seconds. Now quivering with terror, she
huddled in the corner of her electrified office while lights flashed and popped
all around her, knowing there was no where to run. Monitors flashed and burst,
exploding and sending shards of liquid fire into the air. A cop entered the
small room, his arms stretched forward, gun in both hands and a flashlight on
top of his gun.
Three
more cops followed behind. No, they were government agents. The logo printed in
white across their chest announced their profession.
Bright
lights swept the room in a slow steady arc, searching for her. Finally resting
on her face, she shielded her eyes. Smoke from the crucified computers filled
the cubicle, making the agents choke. Sweat from fear beaded on her forehead,
and her heart lurched to her throat. She closed her hands over her heart as if
she could slow the furious beating.
"Hewitt,
check this out. There might be more than this one. Barrister go search through
the other rooms."
"Right,
McKenna."
"My
name is Jace McKenna," the man said as he approached cautiously, kicking
debris from under foot until he stood above her. "Put your hands in the
air."
His
voice held so much authority and sounded so calm. For a moment she thought he
meant to reassure then she remembered she was his prisoner. Well, she would be
as soon as she complied with his demands.
Jace
appeared dark, dangerous, handsome and tall, she noted at first. Very tall,
which was hard to miss, since she was skinny and short. His eyes were an amber
color with a hint of green. He towered over her. Beneath the deceiving
bulkiness of his bulletproof vest, she observed next, his shoulders were very
broad, and though his hips were lean, his thighs, tightly hugged by his jeans,
were muscled and powerful.
His
hair was blacker than the midnight sky, nearly indigo with its sheen, his amber
eyes were cast into a rugged face that appeared naturally tanned. He was
probably somewhere in his late twenties or early thirties. He seemed fierce,
alive with a striking tension and a volatile energy that seemed to exude from
him.
Shaking,
sweat dripping down her face, Meara slowly raised her trembling arms.
"D-don't shoot--me, please" She heard the pathetic whimper in her
voice as she blinked the stinging sweat from her eyes where it melded with her
mascara. Her heart pounded so hard against her chest she was sure it would
burst through her ribs.
"Stand
up, slowly." He swept the flashlight as well as the gun up and down the
length of her body, which had been curled into a tight fetal position.
Rising
to her feet, she leaned against the wall behind her, trying to keep her hands
up and not fall flat on her face. She wiggled her butt against the wall and
inched her way to a standing position. Her life flashed in front of her in a
series of leaps and bounds until she saw the faces of her parents.
"Do as he
says," they whispered. "Everything
will turn out fine. You'll see. We love you." Then, just as they appeared,
they vanished.
Their
faces faded into the smoke and flashing lights. Her eyes open wide, she gazed
at her enemy--her jailor. The man who was here to arrest her. Mind games, or
was it mind think that her parents used to play with her, teaching her to
communicate through thoughts instead of words. She focused on his brain,
sending out feelers, trying to read his thoughts and trying to tell him she was
no threat.
The
next moment he was beside her, grasping one of her arms, and in one swift move
he had turned her, both hands were behind her back and handcuffed. Her breath
stopped for a moment. The movement had been so sudden she was thrown against
the wall. Her face flattened on the smooth surface. Yet she was glad for that
because the impact brought her back to the reality of this moment. Her mind
cleared for a brief second. For courage she inhaled a swift deep breath.
Sweet
Sexy Sadie
Sadie didn't know what to
make of Brody. Exceptionally handsome and charismatic, he'd made her smile the
first time she saw him sauntering down the road toward her. Good lord, but he looked
as if he owned the world. Tall, tanned from the sun, amber-green eyes that
sparkled as if he saw some light humor in everything. He was wiry and sleek; a
quickness about him surprised her. His blue-black hair was tied back with a
leather thong, his chin angular.
Perhaps he did own this part
of the Sierra Madres. His family seemed to own most of this town.
Her research had brought her
to this place, Cactus Junction. Now the prospect of getting to know an
interesting man would be an added perk. In the bathroom she slipped out of her
clothes and into a tepid shower. A few minutes later she emerged squeaky clean
and ready for the next part of her adventure.
Unpacking her clothes and
taking out her laptop, she opened it. What
do explosive experts do? Hmmm....
Why, they blow up things. What would he blow up
around here?
Lord but that sounded crazy
to her. Before typing in the necessary info to pull something up on Google, she
leaned back, relaxing into her chair. The wallpaper was outdated, and the old
fan complimented the air conditioning. She realized she liked the atmosphere.
Enough musing. Mining in the Sierra Madres. Let's
see, it says here they mined silver as early as 1521.
Sadie scrolled down the
paper. Ok… Montezuma, in 1492, was already drinking hot chocolate from goblets
made of gold. Maybe she should be studying this instead of her research thesis.
The migration of butterflies. Once she'd thought the topic was romantic.
Chasing after butterflies…
So what are they doing now? Junior drilling
companies… She wondered if that was
what the McKenna Clan was, a junior company. How soon was too soon to ask?
Probably not on their first dinner together. Knowledge brought power and she
firmly believed everything happened for a reason. Then her chance encounter in
this place was not a coincidence.
This says the companies are
drilling to find the ore. So… Do they still need explosives? If not, he didn't
do much for his day job. Perhaps the family had millions stashed away. At first
glance this hotel was theirs and Brody had told her the land this town sat on
belonged to them. But millions in the Caymans? Probably not.
She closed her laptop. Then
leaning back, she shut her eyes and tried to cleanse her mind of all thought. A
little catnap might be in order, but her heartbeat so fast she didn't think
sleeping was a plausible scenario. Eager to meet the McKenna Clan and begin her
research, her body was wound tight as a rubber band ready to snap.
The bag of chips in her
purse seemed to call to her just after her stomach growled its discontent.
Trying to ignore the excessive calories and her empty belly, she rose and
wandered to the window. Dinner would be that much better if she waited.
Outside, the sun still beat down and one could see heat waves decorate the
street.
The air conditioner chose
that moment to blow out cold air. Sadie wrapped her arms around herself then
turned the monitor down a notch.
Back at the window she
looked at the street below. A man walked down the sidewalk, and as he grew closer,
he stopped and shielded his eyes then gazed up to her room. Sadie's breath
caught in the back of her throat and another chill swept through her. This time
it wasn't caused by the air conditioner. The sight of the man sent an eerie
feeling to the pit of her stomach. She stepped back in an attempt to remove
herself from his line of sight.
The knock startled her away
from the window. She jumped, afraid it might be the man she'd just seen but
knowing it wasn't.
"Sadie? Sadie, you in
there?" Brody called from outside the door. Damn, but she'd recognize his
voice anywhere. A smile crossed her face. She meant to forget the stranger.
Sweet
Misbehavin
In a sign of unity, they linked arms and
strode to Phaedra's room. She picked up the crystal, and walking onto the
balcony, Phaedra held the clear orb toward the sun. "Take us to Jokul,
wherever he might be." Phaedra began to chant as the crystal seemed to
take on a life of its own.
Splinters of sunlight hit the glass ball. The
glow surrounding the crystal flowed into and around the girls. The world turned
and spun. All the colors of the rainbow wrapped them in a protective tunnel.
Margo closed her eyes against the blinding
light, clinging to Phaedra as they hurtled through space. She felt the
difference. Time was not changing, only their destination.
In a matter of seconds, they were set down on
a ledge of ice. Laughter echoed through the hallway then thunderous booms.
Margo motioned to Phaedra to follow her. With caution, they walked toward the
sounds. The building they were in shook and the ice columns around them swayed
as if they might fall.
"What is it?" Margo felt nausea
roll in her stomach. For a moment, she closed her eyes, hoping to understand
what was happening and how to deal with it. She tried to remain composed,
knowing the ability to think and react in a rational manner would serve her
well.
A young girl cowered in a corner, a collar
around her neck. Tears flowed down her cheeks. She turned from them when she
saw them, her body trembling.
Phaedra knelt beside her. "Are you
Jokul's slave?"
The girl looked up, terror clearly written in
her eyes and nodded, "yes."
"Where are they? Where is Jokul? And
what is he doing?" Margo's impatience grew exponentially. Fear spiraled,
yet she forced control of her emotions and tried to remember everything she'd
learned.
"Down that hall. He has killed. The big
cats didn't have a chance. He is keeping one alive just to torment him."
The girl's shaking hand rose from her lap and pointed.
"You'll be fine." Phaedra cupped
the girl's cheek with her hand. "I promise. When this is finished, I will
come back for you."
The girl didn't say anything. Instead she
stared back with a vacant and torn gaze as if she didn't believe Phaedra.
"Jokul will not survive this day. I
promise you. You will be set free." At her sides, Margo clenched and
unclenched her fists. She meant to do this and suddenly she was no longer
terrified of Jokul, his ice or his threats. With each passing second, her
courage and confidence grew.
Several heartbeats later, Margo stepped
inside the room where the slave girl sent her. The sight caught her breath.
Carr's siblings and cousin were frozen ice statues. Relief that Carr wasn't
frozen swept through her. Yet fear for him immobilized her for a moment. She
watched him leap into the air, avoiding an ice bolt Jokul shot at him.
So consumed with their fight, neither male
noticed their entrance to the room. Time was apparently on her side. Before
anyone knew she was there, she shot fire at the three guards, their bodies
aflame. The inferno lit the room. Then she turned her attention to the demon.
Focusing on Jokul's back, she raised her hand, sending fire his way. Seeming to
feel the searing heat, he whirled.
Rage lit his face then a smile. "You
have come back to me but it is too late." He sent a torpedo of ice her
way. Unflinching, she met it with fire. For a second, confusion creased his
brows. She saw determination and rage in his face and a moment of confusion.
"You cannot defeat me." More powerful
than ever, he sent another wave of ice towards her.
She met ice with fire. "No, Jokul, I'm
not an innocent young girl who has no idea how to use her powers. Phaedra has
taught me well. Did you think I would always be weak and in your control?"
Rivulets of water from the melting ice ran
across the floor. Carr let out a mighty roar and leapt toward Jokul, bringing
him down. They rolled on the floor, Jokul caught between Carr's claws.
At the close proximity, Jokul was able to
slather Carr in a coat of frost. He broke free, scrambling to his feet and
sending a small coating of frost to entomb Carr.
Margo could not risk Carr's life. Yet she
remained ready for the battle, waiting for the right moment. Jokul left his
mark on Carr once more. Then he rose, his frown growing.
"I will end you, Jokul," Margo
said. "There is no other way." Her arms extended, her hands pointing
to Jokul, she was poised on the brink of no return. She recalled the spoken
words of caution. If she ended his life, there would be repercussions felt
around the world. But if she did not, her life as well as the McKenna's would
be threatened.
"You're very certain." Jokul's
laughter encased her soul and terrified her. Once again, he sent a stream of
ice, and once more she melted it with her fire. "You're no longer the weak
little girl who fled my care."
"I told you it was so. I am strong,
stronger than you because I have love for these people. You have only hatred to
guide you." Her heartbeat slowed and assertive energy surged through her.
Phaedra remained behind Margo. "You must
finish this. His strength is great. You must strike now before he regains his
energy field. You cannot outlast him and you have the others to think of."
Margo tipped her head slightly, noticing how
Carr had thrown off the cloak of frost and was stretching his muscles. While
she kept her focus on Jokul, Carr looked at her and nodded.
She heard Carr's words in her mind. You
have no choice. He means to kill all of us if he survives.
Sweet Talkin' Sugar
In observation mode, he
walked through the casino, hands in his pockets, listening and watching, his
heart racing. Before the blackjack table at the end of the row, he paused to
reflect and decide on a course of action. The air inside was sultry, hot and
smoke-filled. He swept one hand through his damp hair, fresh from a summer
rain. He forced his mind from the heat and the rancid smell of cigarettes, and
with single-minded focus, stared at the table and the cards lying innocuously
on the green felt.
The picture of cool
calmness, she sat on a bar stool, a drink in hand and cards in the other, her
legs crossed provocatively. Her daringly cut emerald V-neck dress didn't leave
much to the imagination, but he forced his gaze to the man beyond who stared at
her as if he owned her. Every hair on the back of his neck stood on end and a
chill slivered down his spine, nerves on edge, muscles tensed. His brows
furrowed when the man turned his attention, for one brief moment, his way.
The dealer gave her another
card and she tipped one corner up to look at it then let it go. Her body
language spoke volumes to him and he wondered if the dealer noticed too. The
poker face she so obviously tried for was something she'd never possess.
Deacon McClain paused before
settling on a bar stool across the table from her. He waited for the last hand
to finish before placing his chips in front of him and nodding to the dealer he
was ready to play. His fingers closed around his glass of whiskey as his heart
thundered in his chest. She glanced his way, inquisitively cocking her head to
one side before slanting him a sexy-as-hell-grin.
The grin sent a message that
nearly catapulted him from his seat. Inhaling a deep breath to calm his
splintering nerves, he turned his attention back to the cards he'd just been
dealt. Not good, not good at all, he motioned for another, then sat back and
gazed at Lyonesse. Lyn McKenna, the woman he'd been sent to find and bring
home. He'd never believed this gig to be an easy one, but now he felt sure this
might be his most difficult assignment of all. Her easy grin sent his heart
into a tailspin and her long shapely legs were hard to ignore. What would
happen if she gave him her full attention?
He'd lose all sense of
perspective and balance.
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