The League of Illusion: Destiny (2 page)

Chapter Two

The soil was warm in her hands as Drea dug up the rosemary plant. It was a bright sunny morning and the sunshine warmed her face. She wished she could spend the whole day in her garden but she had other matters to attend to.

“Drea, your fella is stirring.”

She looked up to see her father standing in the doorway of their modest house, which also served as the healer’s office. Her father had been healing the sick and infirm in the village and surrounding areas for as long as she could remember. And one day it would be her responsibility. Not that she necessarily wanted it. But duty was duty.

She dusted off her skirt and, carrying the rosemary, went into the house to check on her patient.

He was indeed stirring as he father had claimed. His eyes weren’t open yet, but he was fussing about in the bed, his arms and legs twitching. She readied a cup of water and her healing tonic for when he did wake. The pain in his head would be something awful.

She pulled up a chair and watched him struggle to wake. He was handsome, this Sebastian. More handsome than any of the men in the village. All the women thought so.

She remembered when he’d first shown up in the village and started working at the smithy. Every time he came into the main square to gather supplies, the women would titter in obvious appreciation of his long, lean form, appealing face and intense eyes. But it was his smile that sent women into tailspins. When he smiled, it was as if the sun had pierced the very center of the body, warming it inside. Drea’s belly would actually flip over and her heart would flutter every time he turned that devastating smile on her. Which to her delight was becoming more often than not. His aloofness to her flirtation had been driving her mad.

He stirred again and she reached out and brushed the long dark hair from his forehead.

“Evangeline,” he muttered.

She frowned. Who was this Evangeline? A wife maybe, or a lover? She didn’t like that he moaned her name in his sleep. That could only mean he had deep feelings for this woman. A man didn’t moan a woman’s name without just cause.

She stroked his cheek. His eyes fluttered open at her touch. He frowned when his gaze focused on her.

“Where am I?” His voice was rough, not the usual deep lilt that made her dizzy with pleasure. She was halfway in love with him, and he had no idea.

“At the healer’s.”

He pushed up a little to look around. “Why am I here? The last thing I remember was—”

“You’ve a nasty bump on the head.” She handed him a cup of water. He drank and handed it back. “You must’ve fallen when the morrigan came.”

He frowned some more. “I’m not sure that’s what...”

“You saved Claude, that’s what matters.” She handed him the tincture she’d made for his pain. His nose wrinkled at the smell. “Drink it. It’ll help. Trust me.” She urged the cup higher to his mouth.

She thought he was going to refuse, considering the way he looked at her, but he put the cup to his lips and drank the concoction down.

Grimacing, he handed it back to her. “That’s horrid.”

“Yes, but it will make you feel better and help you relax.”

Sebastian tried to sit up. “I don’t need to relax. I have to go. My brother is coming.”

“I didn’t realize you had a brother.” She pushed him back down, which didn’t take much strength, as her tincture was already working. His eyelids were getting heavy. “You just rest. If you want to later, when you’re better, I’ll take you to see your brother, wherever that may be.” Drea stood and went to the door, intending to shut it so he could get more sleep.

He flung out a drugged-heavy arm toward her. “Your feet.”

“What about them?” She glanced down at her bare feet and wriggled her toes. When she looked back up, he was asleep again.

She hoped when he woke again that he’d forget all about how he got there and the nasty bump on his head. She didn’t really want to lie to the man. She was a woman of honesty—well, for the most part. But how could she tell him that, once he’d helped Claude out of the smithy, she’d hit him over the head with a big stick to stop him from charging at the morrigan, which she could see had been his intention. He should be thanking her, really, because she’d saved his life. No man who’d ever gone after the morrigan had lived.

And she knew that better than most. She’d lost her little brother to it.

The moment she came out of the room, her father descended on her. She couldn’t so much as sneeze without him being there to bless her. He was overly possessive. Which she guessed she understood, considering he’d lost his son and his wife. Drea was the only family he had left—well, besides Aunty. But he didn’t like her much.

“You need to have a care, Drea.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She moved around him and into the kitchen. He followed her.

“I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

“Who do you mean?”

“Girl, do not play with me.” He pointed at the closed door. “Him. The blacksmith.”

“His name is Sebastian.”

“I don’t care what his name is. You’re promised to another.”

“I never agreed to it.” She put a pot of water on the stove to heat.

“It’s time you married. You’re near twenty and Edward is a good man. He’ll make you a fine husband.”

“Maybe I don’t want a fine husband. Maybe I want a man who’ll make my heart race and my toes curl every time I look at him.”

He sighed. “All that is fine and good at the start, Drea, but you need a man to stick. A man who’ll be there at your side no matter what. That man is not going to stick. Everyone knows he’s not from around here. He’s a vagabond looking for a home.”

“Maybe I could be his home.”

He shook his head. “That’s a foolish girl’s wish.”

She didn’t want to discuss it anymore and went outside to her garden to collect some more herbs. She had healing ointment orders to fulfill.

As she dug in the dirt, she considered what her father had said, and he was right for the most part. Sebastian was definitely not from around here. And seeing that green glowing orb of light following him around last night in the smithy confirmed that most vividly. But if not from around here, then from where? She didn’t think it was as simple as coming from another village.

“What’s on your mind, Drea girl?”

Startled, she turned toward the gruff voice that had come from the tall plants next to her garden. She parted the rosemary leaves to see her aunt sitting in the dirt doing the same chore she was doing.

“Aunty, you scared me. I didn’t know you were out here.”

“Just collecting my weekly supplies. I’m heading out to Berit come morning.”

Her aunt Blythe, her mother’s sister, was also a healer. Except her father disapproved of the kind of healing she performed, as did others. Some even said that what she did was witchcraft. It was only because she chanted and danced around during the healing that caused the complaints. Her aunt was just more colorful than most when it came to curing the sick.

Drea had always respected her aunt, admired her even, but her life was the last thing Drea wanted. She’d told her once, and her aunt had just patted her on the cheek and said, “I know, girl, I know.”

“So what’s got you so pensive this fine morning?” Blythe asked as she snipped some peppermint leaves and shoved them in her sack. “Is it the man in your bed?”

“Aunty!” Drea’s cheeks flared red.

Blythe chuckled. “You know what I mean, girl.”

“It might be.”

“He’s a handsome one to be sure.”

Drea could hear the hesitation in her aunt’s voice. “You’re not going to tell me I should be marrying Edward, I hope, like Father did.”

“Goodness no.” Blythe guffawed. “I say marry for love, for passion.”

Drea blushed again. She couldn’t deny the passionate dreams she’d been having about Sebastian. Some nights they felt so real she’d wake with her heart hammering and a hard ache between her legs.

“That’s what I did when I married Peter, God rest his soul. I wouldn’t trade those three short years together for anything.”

“But...I heard it in your voice, Aunty. You have a problem with Sebastian?”

She didn’t answer right away but tucked her plant clippings into her bag and stood. “There’s something missing with that man. He’s either looking for something or running from something.”

Drea had thought the same thing but it still didn’t stop the fierce feelings she had for him. She was drawn to him in a way she didn’t fully understand. Maybe it was magical.

Blythe came over and helped Drea to her feet. She ran a hand over her head just like her mother used to do. “I wish your mama were here to explain all this to you. I was never one for words like her.” She kissed her forehead. “This life,” she gestured to the house, “is a rewarding one to be sure, but love, a fierce all-consuming love is worth risking all for, Drea. Remember that. But also remember it will come at a cost.” She tapped Drea’s nose with her finger. “And you’ll have to decide if it’s worth it.”

She hugged and kissed her aunt. “Be safe, Aunty. I’ll see you soon.”

Blythe just smiled and, singing a bawdy tune, strolled out of the garden to return to her small cottage at the edge of the woods.

Once she was gone, Drea wiped at her brow. The day was getting warmer by the hour. She was about to go back inside when the ground quaked under her feet. In the distance beyond the Black Woods, she saw a flash of light in the sky. It wasn’t lightning as there were no clouds. But what else could it possibly be?

Chapter Three

Mont-Saint-Michel, France, 1851

Darin Hawthorne watched helplessly as the Davenport brothers and their whores disappeared into the portal. He’d rushed to follow them through, but the portal vanished just before he could. He’d failed to stop them. His father would be furious and his punishment would be fierce, or, worse, he’d be disowned. There had to be another way to stop them from bringing Sebastian home.

Amathon, the elven councilman, rushed about the monastery conclave, gathering his wounded troops. One of them had lost a hand to Rhys’s tiger illusion. Despite his hatred of the illusionist, Darin had been impressed with the ruthless way he’d fought. It was a side of Rhys he’d not anticipated. Jovan had fought ferociously as well. As did the Druid tracker Skylar. And as for the woman who’d shot off his thumb, he had a bit of respect for her.

Now they were gone, to another realm to find the eldest Davenport and bring him back to take his place as the head of the League of Illusion. Something Darin could not allow. That position was his. The Hawthornes had waited for centuries for the opportunity to take power.

The elf came to his aid. Darin was bleeding profusely from four wounds, the one in his side being the most worrisome.

“We need to return to London.” Amathon put an arm around Darin. “Now that the portal’s been opened, the morrigan will come. We have to prepare for war.”

He couldn’t care less about the elves’ religious mission. A bunch of hokey superstition, in his opinion, but he didn’t slough off Amathon’s help to get him back to the airship docked just outside the monastery walls. He too needed to get back to London to figure out how to destroy all the remaining nearby portals so the Davenports couldn’t return to this realm, or this year of 1851, for that matter. Hadn’t that been what Sebastian had been doing when he first opened a portal five years ago? To go back in time? Maybe they’d be stuck in the past forever. The year of the Spanish Inquisition would be a just reward, when the church tortured and burned sorcerers. Darin could only hope for such an outcome. But he realized he needed help in his endeavor.

When they reached the port, there wasn’t just one dirigible but two floating above. A beautiful young elf with silky black hair came running up to Amathon as they neared.

“Father.”

“Avaira, what are you doing here?”

Other elves helped the injured up onto the platforms leading to the airships.

“I came to help you.”

“It’s too late. They opened the portal and went through.”

She scowled. “You should’ve killed them in their tracks.”

Darin’s eyes widened at that. A bloodthirsty elf, a bit of a surprise, but just the kind of woman he’d been longing for.

“Avaira,” Amathon scolded, “that is not how we handle things.”

She ignored him and her gaze flitted toward Darin. She eyed his injuries. “Maybe I can assist you, sorcerer?”

He gave her his most charming smile. “Oh yes, my dear, you most certainly can.”

Chapter Four

This time when Sebastian woke, he made sure not to drink anything Drea gave him except for water. And even that he sniffed suspiciously before tasting. He’d slept long enough. He needed to act.

“It’s just water, I promise.”

“You said to trust you before when you knocked me out again.” After drinking, he sat up to swing his legs over the bed. “I need my shoes.”

“Of course.” She retrieved them, then settled down at his feet to put them on for him. “I cleaned them. I hope you don’t mind. They were awfully dirty.”

As she slid them on, he stared at her red curls swinging almost to the floor. They looked like silken fire and he had an urge to reach out and capture one tendril between his fingers just to see if it was as soft as it looked. This wasn’t the first time he’d imagined that. Every time he saw Drea in the market square or about the village he wished to touch her. But he resisted. He was no good for her. She deserved so much better than a washed-up coward in hiding.

But that still hadn’t stopped him from watching her. Protecting her from the shadows.

She lifted her gaze and met his. Her plump lips split into a smile and his gut reacted. As did another part of his anatomy. He quickly stood, afraid of what she might see in his gaze.

“Thank you Drea, I’ll be sure to drop by later to pay you what I owe for your care.”

She stood as well. The top of her head came to his nose, and she had to tilt her head up to look at him. Now they were but a foot apart, and Sebastian could see the gold flecks in her bright green eyes. She was a little thing. Petite but no one would mistake her for a young girl. Her womanly curves were ample and he was acutely aware of them at the moment.

“You’re in no shape to be traipsing around. I’ll take you in the cart to see your brother or wherever it is you need to go.”

“That is kind of you, but I’m not entirely sure where he is.”

“Oh.” She studied him a moment and he had to take a distancing step back. He was afraid she would see too much. He’d tried to keep a low profile. He didn’t want anyone getting involved in his business.

“I must be leaving.” He turned to the door. “Thanks again for your hospitality.”

“I saw a flash of light just beyond the Black Woods.”

He stopped and looked at her. “When?”

“Earlier this morning, when you were sleeping.” She took a few steps toward him. “I reckon that may be where you should start looking for your brother.” Her lips curled into a smile.

She obviously saw more than he wanted her to. And knew more then he realized.

“I could use a ride,” he suggested against his better judgment.

“That’s what I was thinking.” She brushed past him with a little spring in her step.

When they were both atop the driver’s bench of the cart, Mr. Blairwood came rushing toward them. “Where are you going?”

“Just for a short ride, Papa. Sebastian can barely walk.”

Mr. Blairwood eyed Sebastian suspiciously. “Edward is coming by to see you.”

“I won’t be long.”

“Sir,” Sebastian said, “I promise you, your daughter will be home soon.”

He didn’t look convinced but there was not much he could do as Drea clicked to the horse and steered them onto the road.

The high sun warmed his skin as they traveled the road from the village to the woods. It felt good and he lifted his face to it and closed his eyes. That was one of the things he’d come to love about this realm. The sunshine. He’d never experienced this much back in London. It rained more days than not. There were other things as well, like the laziness of the place. In London everyone was in a hurry. And he liked the people. Especially the one currently sitting beside him.

When he opened his eyes again, Drea was eyeing him curiously. He met her gaze. “What is it?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. How’s your head?”

He ran his fingers over the lump on the back of his skull. “Sore. I must’ve really
fallen
hard.”

She dropped her gaze. “Yes, you must’ve.”

“Although I’m curious how I ended up in your house.”

“I found you on the ground early this morning.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.” She rubbed her nose.

“What were you doing out so early?”

“Checking on the damage the morrigan did around the village. The smithy is close to the house.”

“It’s not really.” He eyed her. She was squirming in her seat. She wasn’t a very skilled liar.

Her eyelashes fluttered as she avoided looking at him. “Well, I was checking on Claude. He’d old and not always so bright. I was worried he didn’t get out of the smithy in time.”

“You know what I think?”

“I certainly don’t.”

“I think you bashed me over the head with something.”

She gasped, a hand fluttered to her chest as if outraged by his accusations. “That’s preposterous. Why would I ever do that?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response. I never thought you’d be so rude.” She harrumphed. “You haven’t spoken more than five words to me, and here you are voicing all kinds of disrespectful accusations about my character.”

He almost smiled at that. Instead he remembered his manners, all the things his mother had ingrained in him. “I apologize, I meant no offense.”

They rode in silence for a bit as the road led into the woods. They were named the Black Woods for a reason. The trees were plentiful and tall with thick foliage that blocked most of the sun’s rays. Although it was high noon, inside the woods it was an eerie twilight. He always found the woods to be a place of mysticism. There was always a lot of energy within the grand trees. It was an ancient place full of secrets.

“For curiosity’s sake,” Drea said, breaking the silence, “what makes you think
I
hit you over the head?”

“I recognize your feet.”

Her eyes widened. “My feet?”

“Yes, I remember seeing a dainty pair of pretty feet before I passed out.”

She smiled at him, a blush staining her cheeks. “You think my feet are pretty?”

He imagined she was wriggling her toes inside her shoes, the way he’d seen her do it earlier. Her smile was so infectious that he was about to match it when something caught his attention.

He grabbed her hands, which were holding the reins. “Stop.”

Without hesitation or question, she tugged on them and the horse came to a halt. “What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t as if he’d heard something. It wasn’t a sound that bothered him but a feeling. The prickling tingly sensation of magic. Something he hadn’t felt in five years since being here. Could Rhys have come through a portal? Was his brother nearby in the thick copse of trees?

“Wait here,” he said as he climbed down from the cart.

“What? Why?” There was panic in her voice.

“It’s all right, Drea. Just stay here, I’ll be right back.”

He stepped off the road and into the thicket. Brambles tugged at his jerkin and pants as he brushed past them. After going about twenty feet, he glanced over his shoulder. He could still see Drea sitting in the cart, turned toward him. He pressed forward.

The tingly feeling of magic intensified the farther he went into the woods. After walking another five minutes, he looked back. Thick branched and lush growth obscured his view of the road. But he had to keep going. The chance to reunite with his brother and the opportunity to go home was too great.

He stepped over a fallen tree then stopped. He spied movement just beyond the next line of trees. And he heard voices.

Sebastian crouched behind the nearest thick tree trunk and waited. None of the three voices did he recognize. But one of them, maybe all, had magic or was one of the magical races.

A snap of a branch from behind jerked him around. Drea stood there wide-eyed staring down at him.

“I told you to wait,” he whispered.

“I was afraid. I heard horses coming down the road.”

He pulled her down beside him and put a finger to his lips to tell her to be quiet. She nodded, and he turned toward the voice and peered through the foliage. At first he didn’t see anything but then a form stepped into view.

Sebastian gasped. It wasn’t that he recognized the person, but he did know the type. Shimmery skin, long silky black hair, pointed ears. It was an elf in his woods. What the hell were elves doing here?

“Don’t move.” The voice came from behind where they crouched. And he felt the telltale sharp point of an arrow poking into the back of his neck. “What are you doing here, sorcerer?”

Eyes wide, Drea turned to him. “I knew it. I knew you could do magic.”