Blood Craft: The Shadow Sorceress Book Two

C
opyright
© 2016 by Bilinda Sheehan

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

F
or Mom
, who teaches me every single day that strength is not just borne of muscle, love is more than words, and family is more than blood.

There will never be another like you, so take no prisoners.

T
he Shadow Sorceress Series

A Grave Magic

Blood Craft

Grim Rites - Coming Soon

Wild Hunt - Coming Soon

B
ond of Blood
and Shadow Series

Violet Line - Book One

Violet Code - Coming 2016

T
o learn more
about this series and upcoming books from Bilinda, visit her website, join her mailing list, and email her.

“
T
om
, put me down!” Marcy squealed, the sound of her tinkling laughter mixed with his deeper chuckle as he swung her around.

“You’ve made me the happiest man alive, why would I ever want to put you down!” he said, his voice dropping to a low whisper as he let her slide down his front, his grip on her small frame never faltering. He never faltered; it was one of the many things she loved about him.

Ever since they’d met, he was there, reliable and dependable—nothing like her past relationships. It was such a change of pace to have someone you could truly rely on, almost a heady experience.

Giggling, she threw her head back and stared up at the stars dotting the August summer night. It looked like an inky blanket stretched out before her and the air was filled with possibility.

There had been a part of her hoping he would propose, but she’d never imagined it would happen so quickly. She’d fallen for him from the moment she’d set eyes on him and she would forever be grateful to Grace for setting them up on that blind date six months ago.

He swung her around once more, his hands tightening on her waist as he held her flush to the front of his body. The moment his grip changed, Marcy returned her gaze to his face.

The love in his eyes made her heart swell. If she wasn’t careful, it would burst with happiness….

No one deserved so much joy.

The thought was a sobering one and it hit her like a slap in the face. It was the same thing her father had always told her. Happiness and joy came with a price and it was always one you didn’t want to pay.

Her stomach flipped nervously and she planted her hands on Tom’s shoulders, halting his movements.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, the expression on his face instantly switching to one of concern.

“It’s silly really….”

“You can tell me anything, you know that. Whatever is bothering you….” His face changed, then, the concern slipping as something else swept in to take its place. “You don’t regret saying yes, do you? If you need time….”

Lifting her hands to his face, Marcy gripped him, staring deep into his blue eyes.

“I don’t regret anything, not where you’re concerned, and you know that. I love you, it’s just my stupid brain….”

Tom grinned, the relief in his eyes causing her heart to skip a beat. “Hey, don’t say that, I love your brain,” he teased, the lilt in his voice and the curl of his lips drawing a smile from her.

“It’s just … what if this is all too much?” she said, searching his face for any sign that he had the same fear.

“Too much?”

“Happiness; what makes us deserve so much more of it than anyone else? What if something happened?”

“Nothing is going to happen, Marcy, where is all of this coming from?”

“I’ve seen what it can do to people. I watched my parents and they were so in love, but when my mother was diagnosed with cancer, well, I watched that bring them together and yet rip them apart. They knew what was coming; my father was forced to watch her suffer, all the time knowing there was nothing he could do….”

“Marcy, really? That’s what’s worrying you? Come on … that won’t happen to us, and even if it did, it wouldn’t change how I feel about you. It wouldn’t change the fact that I want to marry you, to proclaim to the world that you’re mine,” he said, cupping her cheek softly. “And I’m sure if you asked your dad if he’d been given the choice when he met your mom to walk away and save himself the heartbreak, I don’t think he’d trade the time he did have with her.”

He was right, of course. Her father wouldn’t change the time he’d shared with his wife and Marcy knew it, but she also knew the price he’d paid for that love. The price her mother had paid…. Dying was hard enough, but to know who you were leaving behind, what pain your passing would bring, that was the kind of guilt you couldn’t shake free of and Marcy had seen it in her mother’s eyes in the days leading up to the end.

It was just all still so fresh; a year wasn’t a very long time.

Sucking in a deep breath, she pushed her morbid thoughts aside. Had she lost her mind? This was supposed to be one of the happiest moments of her life and she was ruining it by dwelling on things she had no control over.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. It’s just the thought of ever losing you….”

“You’re not going to lose me, Marcy Colt; I love you and I promise that no matter what, I will always be by your side.”

“If you make that promise to me, Tom, you better keep it!” she said with a wide smile as she wrapped her arms up around his neck.

Lifting her slowly, he dipped his head and crushed his lips to hers. Marcy didn’t fight the kiss, allowing it to wash over her, the love she felt for him stealing all rational thought from her brain.

Tom pushed her down towards the grass and Marcy giggled, her hands pressed to his chest.

“Not here, not in public,” she whispered, heat flooding into her face. She could imagine the colour her cheeks were turning.

“No one’s around…” he said, pressing feather-light kisses along the length of her neck, as his hands slid down over her shoulders to her breasts.

Breathless, Marcy let her head drop back as he tasted her skin, the feel of his hands igniting a fire in her belly as they slid lower.

He stiffened over her, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her breasts as his head jerked back and he grunted. Marcy cried out, pain flaring through her body as his hands spasmed across her delicate, feminine flesh.

“You’re hurting me!” she said, her voice choked as Tom dropped his full weight on her.

Fear flooded her veins as she stared up into his pain stricken face and she fought to roll his weight from her body.

“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” she cried, her voice strangled by panic and fear.

“Marcy, run…” he said, using his last ounce of strength to push up from her body, allowing her to crawl out from underneath him.

Once free, Marcy stared at Tom. The long, curved blade protruding from between his shoulder blades sent her mind into overdrive and she opened her mouth to scream, but there was no sound. Instead, she could feel her vocal cords as they constricted in on themselves, panic making it impossible for anything more than a small sob to fall from her lips.

She wanted to go to him, to help him, but the blade hadn’t entered his back on its own. The small, hunched man holding it stood over Tom and slowly pulled it free.

Marcy watched on in shock as the blade slid free, but the blood she expected to see covering the bone-white blade wasn’t there. How was that even possible?

The attacker standing over Tom’s motionless body lifted his gaze to her, his eyes friendly, a wide smile curling his lips as he stepped towards her.

“Your turn, dear. You don’t know how much your sacrifice is appreciated. We thank you,” he said, his voice quiet and unassuming.

Instinct kicked in and Marcy turned, her feet flying across the grass as she ran. She’d get help, she’d save Tom and….

Pain ripped through her as the blade slid in through the centre of her back. She opened her mouth, but there was only a choking sound, her body spasming like a butterfly on the end of a pin.

The moist breath of her attacker fluttered against her ear as he leaned in over.

“Truly, your sacrifice will not be wasted; you will be mother to a new rising….” He pulled the blade free as he spoke and Marcy dropped onto the grass.

She could feel it spreading through her, an all-consuming darkness that opened like the rotting petals of a perverse flower.

The feel of the man’s hands on her ankles filled her with revulsion as he grabbed her and began the arduous process of dragging her back across the ground to where Tom had fallen.

Tom….

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she stared up at the inky, star-filled sky spread out above her. He’d promised to never leave her, but as the man with the bone blade moved her hand, entwining her fingers with Tom’s, Marcy couldn’t help but think this wasn’t what she’d had in mind when they pledged each other forever….

S
taring up at the ceiling
, I watched the dust motes dance in the cold morning light. I wasn’t a morning person, but the nightmares made sleep impossible—just another one of the many gifts my half-sister had left me with.

Stretching my arm out, I flexed my fingers, pain tingling up into my elbow. The white stretch bandage didn’t really give it the support it needed, but the cast had been far too restricting. How was I supposed to train, how was I supposed to defend myself, with what felt like a bulky lump of cement wrapped around my arm?

Wincing, I pushed myself up in the bed and swung my legs over the side of the mattress, the remnants of the nightmares lingering in my head. The memory blocks my mother had placed in my head were well and truly gone, and I remembered everything.

Night-time was the worst; my mind seemed to take some sort of sick pleasure in replaying every sordid detail of what I had done to my father—well, what the demon had done to him. But I’d summoned it to this plane of existence and there wasn’t an excuse for my selfishness. I was a monster, plain and simple.

Climbing to my feet, I stumbled to the bathroom and flipped on the cold tap. Cupping a handful of icy water, I splashed it onto my face in an attempt to shake the last of the cobwebs from my head.

The guilt was beginning to gnaw a hole in the middle of me and I half expected to see a creature burst forth from my stomach, all teeth and claws as it chewed my intestines into a thick, gloopy paste.

Don’t be so bloody gross and dramatic, Amber; you’ve got enough issues.
The voice of my conscience had become harsher, more judgemental, ever since I’d discovered the truth.

The sound of my cell phone’s shrill ring jerked me from my own thoughts and I jogged back into the bedroom, scooping it up from the bedside locker.

Graham’s name flashed across the screen, and without hesitation, I jabbed my finger against the large green accept button. The speaker fizzed against my ear and I cringed—wherever Graham was, the cell service was obviously crap.

“Amber, can you hear me?” his voice cut through the static.

“Graham, where are you?”

“I went to see Jess….”

The preternatural prison wasn’t like the human prisons. humans abhorred being held captive; the urge to escape was always foremost in their minds, but armed guards and heavy metal bars were usually enough to keep them trapped. Where the Fae, werewolves, or, in Jessica’s case, vampires, were concerned, they had all the same desires as their human counterparts except their desires were amplified to fever-pitch. And then, of course, there was the little issue that human restrictions couldn’t keep them contained.

Metal bars were nothing more than a nuisance and run-of-the-mill bullets wouldn’t do much to stop a vampire with mind control or a werewolf who’d gone rogue. At any one time, there were no more than twenty preternatural prisoners kept in containment, and each and every one faced execution if found guilty of the crimes they’d been accused of. When you were a monster, there was no such thing as life in prison.

“I’m going to pick you up. We might have something.” His voice faded in and out, the popping and fizzing of the static electricity surrounding him making the call practically impossible.

The line went dead and I dropped the phone back onto the bed. Jessica was another headache I really didn’t need. She was guilty, there was no escaping that fact, but everything she’d done had been under the influence of her vampire boyfriend, and if she was still human then the courts might have been more willing to listen.

But she was a vampire now, and her future certainly wasn’t looking bright. What Graham honestly thought I could achieve was beyond me, but I knew he wanted me to do something, talk to someone in charge. The only problem was that I wasn’t convinced I wanted to help Jessica.

The things she’d done … well, it wasn’t something you could really come back from. And I still couldn’t shake the memory of her looking at her father like he was a perfectly-marbled rare steak. She’d wanted to rip his throat out, made a bloody good attempt at it, and if it hadn’t been for Nic swooping in to stop her….

The demon brand on my shoulder itched and tingled, sending a shudder of revulsion rolling down my spine. Glancing down at it sent a flutter through my stomach. It needed to go, there was no doubt about it. Every minute I had to spend with that thing’s brand seared into my skin was a moment too many.

There wasn’t much information on demon brands; it seemed anyone who ended up with one had obviously not been in the sharing mood, and so what little information I could find out about it was sparse to say the least. But I could only imagine what it would do to me if I didn’t do something about it.

Demons weren’t to be messed with; I knew that from experience. The memory of my father’s face twisted in agony flashed through my head before I could stop it and I swallowed back the bile that crawled up my throat.

I would find a way to atone for my sins, no matter the cost. And while I was doing that, I would figure out a way to send that goddamned demon back to Hell where it belonged before it had the chance to hurt anyone. How I was going to do all of these miraculous things hadn’t yet come to me, but I needed something to believe in because if I didn’t, then my own, personal demons were going to eat me alive.