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“Eeh?” Papa Saul cupped his ear. “Did you say Warslow?”

  “No, Papa Saul,” Talon said wearily. He didn’t know what game his grandfather was playing, but the old man had no intention of admitting he recognized the Winslow name for some reason.

  Talon returned his attention to the other members of the guild. “You think Saylym might have left our realm and grown up as an illumrof?” Talon’s forehead creased with confusion. “Why would she do that? What could have happened to make her do such a thing?”

  “Maybe she was never in our realm to leave it,” Sage suggested.

  Talon searched his cousin’s face before agreeing. “Maybe.”

  Darak nodded. “It’d be unusual, but a possibility. As you know, in times past, witches took illumrof mates. Though only the gods understand the reasons, some chose to dwell in the mortal realm with their mates and raise their children there. That might account for the lack of records in our archives.”

  “If that be the case,” Teek said, “then her immortal half would be slow to develop, perhaps even cursed at some point in her life. But now that her powers are enhancing, she’ll be drawn to all things magic. The unintentional spells she’ll invoke will make trouble for all of us.” Teek hesitated, sending a look of sympathy toward his nephew. “However, illumrofs simply can’t cross between realms. Not without aid. There’s no way this Hannah Miller arrived in our world without immortal assistance. She now knows of our realm, our existence. She must die. The three of them must be terminated.”

  “Instead of killing them, we need answers.” Talon spread his hands in a gesture of appeal. “It’s a dangerous thing not having all the facts. I suggest we bring Saylym before the guild members and question her.”

  “It isn’t our way. She’s an Impure, son,” Darak said. “She might have a witch’s aura, but she’s a bumbler of magic, a crime which carries an automatic penalty of spirit removal.”

  “No!” Talon snarled.

  “She has no control of her witchy-ways,” Darak replied. “Observers witnessed her bumbling.”

  “Spies, you mean.” Talon shook his head, disgusted.

  “Observers. Without them guarding our portals, we’d all be destroyed. A bumbler of magic is not a great threat only to our realm, but to the mortal realm as well.” Darak thrust fingers through his hair.

  “She’s been under observation since her arrival, nephew,” Teek said calmly.

  Talon frowned. “Then why weren’t the younger wakens informed of her presence?”

  His uncle held out his hands in a peaceful gesture. Always the peacemaker, but gods, the woman was harmless enough. She was more apt to injure herself than someone else.

  Maybe, Vox taunted.

  Talon shook off the provocative taunt. He damn well didn’t like the idea of the ghostly Observers spying on Saylym. They were the only race with the ability to cross the protective spell surrounding Sanctuary from the wakens. There was the occasional rogue Observer who went rabid and attacked a witch without provocation. He didn’t want this happening to Saylym.

  Darak cleared his throat. “The ancients decide when and what you need to know. If you hadn’t claimed her, we would have continued to monitor her to make certain she harmed no one. You cannot be involved with an Impure. You’re a prince.” He hesitated. “Of course, now, we have a mortal among us. Things are just too rocky to allow these disruptions to continue.”

  Talon gritted his teeth. “You’re saying it’s my fault? That’s bullshit, and you know it! You’d have had her terminated eventually. You were waiting for a better reason so you wouldn’t feel guilty for terminating yet another witch. I gave you that reason by claiming her. There’s no way you or the guild would ever allow Saylym to live. I know how your mind works.” He flashed a look of abhorrence toward the elders. “All your minds.” Talon stepped back, his chest heaving as he drew a ragged breath. “I’m telling you for the last time, I will not steal her soul.”

  “Easy, Talon,” Sage whispered. “Keep your temper in check or they’ll make you leave.”

  Talon’s stomach knotted with rage. His heart raced. Sweat trickled down his temples and dampened his shirt. He wiped the perspiration from his face with the back of his shirt sleeve. Damn it! She was an innocent. Couldn’t they see for themselves? Overwhelmed with his inability to change the ancient’s locked minds he glanced at his cousin, helpless.

  “Do not be so ill-mannered as to whisper, Sage. If you have something to say, just say it,” Darak ordered, temper in his words.

  Hot color swept up Sage’s face.

  “Chin up,” Talon muttered softly. “He’s only a king. He can’t eat you.”

  Sage slanted a wary glance at Talon, his lips twitching. “I’m not so sure of that.” He lifted his head, turning to face his uncle. “I just thought Talon should reconsider his words and not allow his anger to influence his judgment.”

  Darak frowned. “There’s nothing left for Talon to consider. The witch is a bumbler. Her spells are weak. Any magic she attempts, whether knowing or not, will work only half-way. She could cause entire villages to burn down. She’ll create nothing but havoc. Judgment has been passed, her punishment ordered.” He turned his censorious gaze on Talon. “Therefore,” he continued, “if you refuse to assassinate this witch, we will assign someone else to terminate her.”

  Pain sliced through Talon’s heart. It felt as if a knife had been driven deep in his chest. He immediately shielded his mind against the elders’ possible probing. He didn’t want any of them prying into his feelings for Saylym, especially his father.

  Darak shot him an odd, penetrating look. “Talon?”

  Talon shook his head. He had to think of something quick, anything, to prevent another assassin from taking his place. Unfortunately, his mind refused to cooperate.

  “Talon?” Darak repeated. “Is there a problem?”

  “Besides the obvious one?” Talon choked.

  Darak turned red. “Are you personally involved with this witch? Have you mated with her? Have you conceived a child with this Impure? You shield your mind from us.”

  “None of that is your business, Father.”

  Dead silence filled the room.

  Well, he’d done it now. He’d flung down another gauntlet. He might as well go all the way. “My personal feelings for the witch are my concern, not yours or the members of the guild. But no, I haven’t touched her intimately...yet. There’s been no risk of conception. I’m not stupid, Father.”

  “Involvement with this witch could manifest itself into a catastrophe, Talon. You cannot care about this Impure. You cannot mate with her. I forbid it!”

  “You forbid? It’s too late, Father.” A muscle ticked in Talon’s lean jaw. “I’ve already marked her. She’s mine for the season. As my king, I owe you allegiance. You have that. I’d never do anything to betray you or place you in peril. As my father, you have no right to probe my personal thoughts, feelings, or forbid me anything. I won’t breed her, Father, but I will mate with her. I do know how to be careful.”

  “Talon.” Sage placed his hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “You can’t take the risk of mating with a half-witch. A child with her would be disastrous. The weaker the bloodline, the more unpredictable the magic becomes. You’re not thinking straight.”

  Talon shrugged off his cousin’s hand. “Yes, I am. For the first time in my life, I’m thinking very straight.” He turned back to his father. “Is she aware she crossed realms?”

  “Invalid point, Talon, she might have been seen by an illumrof when she crossed realms. Another war could erupt between mortals and immortals. This must be prevented at all costs, even if it means the spirit removal of this witch you’re protecting.”

  “Might have…could have? You want to take a witch’s life based on possibilities or what ifs?” Talon felt ill. There was just no way to make them see the injustice of their commands.

  “Whether she’s aware she crossed realms or not, is not the question,” Darak replied. “
Without the proper guidance here, what she did is forbidden.”

  “What isn’t?”

  Darak shot him a stern look. “I don’t like your attitude, Talon.”

  Talon nodded. “You never have.” He shrugged. “All right, then. Effective immediately, I resign my position as Chief Assassin. My attitude isn’t something you’ll have to deal with any longer…Your Majesty.”

  Darak’s lips tightened. “You can’t resign. You have a hundred years left on your contract and you will fulfill them. However, I’ll deal with you about this subject at a later time.”

  Talon folded his arms across his chest, his chin jutting stubbornly. He saw his father flinch at the rebellious stance. “I’m sure the spirit removal of this witch can wait.”

  “No it cannot wait,” Darak bellowed, slamming a clenched fist on the table. “Any other day, I’d be pleased to discuss this fully with you, Talon, but not today. Not over this. I-I’m a reasonable man,” he said, toning down his voice. “I don’t expect you to blindly obey orders all of the time.”

  The sound of hurried footsteps tapped across the squares of black and white marble on the floor, interrupting the discussion.

  “Pardon, Majesty,” a voice rang out, “but if Prince Talon doesn’t have the stomach to snuff out the life of one troublesome witch, I’ll gladly do the deed for him.”

  Chapter Seven

  Frequently denounced were women whose behavior or economic circumstances were somehow disturbing to the social order and conventions of the time. Many of the accused had previous records of criminal activity, including witchcraft. However, there were others who were faithful churchgoers and people of high standing in the community.

  ~Salem Witch Trials

  March 1, 1692

  Page Entry…

  Displeased with Queen Leyla’s refusal to acknowledge Kran heir to the witches’ throne, Zoman took Basheena, second only to Leyla in power, for a lover. Together, they plotted the downfall of their queen.

  That All Hallows’ Eve, Basheena bore Zoman a son who took the name Black Drayke. Although Zoman and Basheena tried to conceal the boy’s birth from Queen Leyla and the Witches’ Supreme Coven, Leyla discovered her mate’s infidelity and ordered Basheena and the babe exiled from Sanctuary.

  To everyone’s great shock, the following Beltane, Leyla conceived and gave birth to her third child, another daughter, Elsbeth, on All Hallows’ Eve.

  ~Pages of history from the Winslow witches.

  In the Year of Samhain, 1100

  Ru-Noc

  Droth

  City of the wakens

  Talon whipped around at the familiar voice and damning words, his heart sinking. Black Drayke, his nemesis since their days in the Royal Academy for Waken Assassins, swept into the chamber, bringing an aura of evil with him. Talon stifled a gag. The blackness coating the evil warlock’s wicked soul curdled his stomach.

  “Go near Saylym and I swear I’ll run a dirk through your black heart.” Talon raked his eyes over the older warlock. “You will not touch her.”

  King Darak’s head jerked up. He raised half-way off the throne before he caught himself and settled back in place. Still, he leaned forward, eyeing Talon.

  Talon flinched at the look on his father’s face. He knew Darak found it strange he defended an Impure but he hadn’t been able to curtail his words. He drew a deep breath, his chest heaving. No matter what he did or said, he disappointed his father. He wondered if this would ever change.

  Though he’d always done his best to defend the witches, there were times when inevitably, he’d failed and the witch was terminated as ordered. He kept his emotions under rigid control at these times and did his job.

  The risk of falling in love with a witch who could be scheduled for spirit removal was too great. So he mated at Beltane when he could no longer resist the urge and he walked away, heart-whole. His emotions were never seriously involved or his heart given to any particular witch. Until now.

  From the look on his father’s face, he realized Talon was fully entangled with the Impure witch. He immediately reinforced the shield to protect his thoughts from Darak and the guild.

  Hell, he hadn’t had time to dwell on his reaction to the lovely witch. He wasn’t comfortable with the things she made him feel. Although he wasn’t certain how much he was willing to sacrifice for her, he didn’t want anyone stealing her soul or invading his mind and dissecting his feelings. Confused, he wondered why he was so quick to sacrifice his career as an assassin for the lovely witch.

  Talon rubbed a thumb slowly across his bottom lip. What if she was his true mate? If so, it could prove tragic if he stole her soul. His stomach knotted. He was riding a comet to certain disaster and there was no one to pluck him off the sparkling, dusty tail of catastrophe.

  He settled a veiled look on Black Drayke. The warlock stood tall and thin as a reed. A thick mustache lined his thin upper lip and helped conceal a weak mouth and weaker jaw line. Black Drayke had been a poor instructor of the Arts of Magic and Assassination. In the end it cost him his position at the academy.

  When they were at the private school, some of the officers taunted him, calling him lizard lips. It was an apt description. Along with being skeletal in build, the warlock looked reptilian. His dark hair touched his shoulders in stringy, greasy strands. The melding of his black heart with an even blacker soul gave off a slimy stench. Talon recognized it for what it was…malice. It rolled off Black Drayke in an invisible, suffocating vapor.

  And Talon knew he had a deadly enemy in the older warlock.

  “You haven’t the guts to fight me, Prince.” Black Drayke’s thin lips curled with contempt.

  “You wouldn’t want to underestimate me,” Talon responded.

  “Indeed? I make few mistakes where you’re concerned, Prince.”

  A muscle jerked in Talon’s jaw. It was all he could do to keep from wrapping his hands around the warlock’s scrawny neck. “Tread lightly, Black Drayke. That’s the only warning you get.” Talon glanced around. No one in the council room moved.

  Aware of the deadly menace in Talon’s voice, Black Drayke, too, went stone still. “Ah, a new side of you, Prince, I don’t believe I’ve ever known you to be so protective of a witch. Interesting.” For a moment, he seemed to debate the wisdom of pushing Talon further in their private war, then dipped his head in mocking acknowledgment. “I’ll make certain I tread lightly, Prince.”

  Sage stepped between the two men. “You believe we have such a quantity of females remaining, that as males, we can afford to continue snuffing out their lives? You’re a fool, Black Drayke. But then, that’s nothing new.”

  “And when did you start fighting your cousin’s battles?” The warlock sneered, raking his gaze over Sage in silent warning.

  “Talon has no need of my help. More fool you if you think for a moment he does. I’m trying to save your putrid soul from the Underworld.”

  Black Drayke turned his back on Sage, an insult to the higher ranking waken.

  “Arrogant son of a bitch, isn’t he?” Sage said to no one in particular.

  Talon grinned and silently agreed with his cousin’s description of Black Drayke.

  “If necessary, we can mate with illumrof females,” Black Drayke announced to the guild. He ran a hand over the dingy, food-stained shirt clinging to his emaciated chest. “Their repugnant smell doesn’t matter so long as they take our seed into their womb.” He turned a hard glare on Talon and Sage. “It’s been done, and I might add, successfully.” The warlock rubbed his cock behind his zipper. “Very successfully.”

  Talon swallowed hard, struggling to keep from gagging. Mating with illumrof females? Could the warlock be any more barbaric? “Mating isn’t the problem. What about reproduction?”

  “Illumrof women cannot bear us children,” Sage said, his voice as hot as Talon’s. “The pregnancy becomes toxic after five months. Both child and mother die. It’s murder. Even if they could bear our children, we can’t bond w
ith one of them. They could never tolerate the pressure of the mental locking that occurs during enhancement. Their minds would snap like a twig. Mortal females are useless to our race as mates and child bearers.”

  Black Drayke cupped himself between his legs, snickering. “Not entirely useless. So what if our males are more endowed than the illumrof male? It takes a little effort, but the illumrof female’s body is quite capable of accepting our mating rod. I’ve successfully impregnated more than one of them.” His cruel smile curved his thin lips as he turned his leer on Talon. “They conceive when I plant my seed in their belly. I can’t help it if you’re not man enough to accomplish the deed.”

  “You’re impregnating females of another species?” Talon whirled and faced the ancients. “The act he’s committing is barbarous. It’s a death sentence for the human female.”

  “The seed develops at a gradual rate. If the illumrof female should carry it her normal nine months, it would still be nothing more than a slug when born.” Black Drayke’s mouth twisted with smug satisfaction. “It’s a blessing that after five months, the babe becomes toxic for the illumrof. When it’s expelled, both mother and child die. I say good riddance, but I definitely enjoyed the mating sessions.”

  “How can you do this thing? It’s cruel,” Talon said both anger and disgust in his voice. “How can you be so pitiless?”

  Curling his lips, Black Drayke scoffed. “Why do you care what happens to a mortal female?” he taunted. “They’re nothing. Good for a few nights of mating, but certainly not for taking as mates. They satisfy the desperate urge to mate during Beltane. That’s good enough for me.”

  “You slimy—” Talon leapt for the evil warlock, but was brought up short by Sage.

  “He’s goading you, Talon. Can’t you see he’s lying? It’s so obvious. He wants you banished from this meeting. He wants the pleasure of the kill. Don’t give it to him. Calm down.”