Visions of Skyfire

Table of Contents

 

 

“This book has it all: romance, adventure, witches, magic, and immortal hunks.”

—Jennifer Lyon, author of
Night Magic

 

“Regan Hastings provides a powerful but dark thriller. The story line is fast-paced with deep characterizations that make the Awakening of magic seem real. However, it is the underlying social issue of burning the Bill of Rights that makes this a terrific cautionary tale.”

—Alternative Worlds

 

“Hastings launches a troubling and darkly riveting new Awakening series…. This series starter begins laying the foundation of an intricate mythos that promises exciting future exploration. Good stuff indeed!”

—
Romantic Times

Also by Regan Hastings

 

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First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

First Printing, October 2011

Copyright © Maureen Child, 2011 All rights reserved

ISBN : 978-1-101-54487-7

 

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PUBLISHER’S NOTE

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Once again, there are too many people to thank and not nearly enough room to accomplish the task. So I’ll keep it short and sweet—

A big thank-you to my friends, the best plot group in the world: Susan Mallery, Kate Carlisle, Christine Rimmer, and Teresa Southwick. Thanks for always bringing me back on track when I start taking those interesting detours. I love you guys. And to Jennifer Lyon, amazing writer and wonderful friend, another thank-you for some truly brilliant suggestions.

To agent extraordinaire, Donna Bagdasarian, thanks for your belief in me and my books and for working every bit as hard as I do.

To my editor, Kerry Donovan, a big thank-you for your hard work, your confidence in this series, and for some really great brainstorming phone calls! Another thank you goes to Claire Zion and everyone at Signet for their support of this series—and to the art department for the most amazing covers I’ve ever seen.

Thanks again to the Wiccans I keep going to with my questions and concerns. You guys are great and I really appreciate the support and, again, the understanding that my book is fiction and that sometimes “facts” are just a jumping-off point.

And as always, thanks to my family for their patience, their love, and their understanding when I’m on deadline and I forget all about the “real world.”

Chapter 1

T
eresa Santiago opened her arms to the sky as if welcoming a lover. The storm raged overhead and its energy and power filled her like long-dammed water rushing onto a floodplain. She felt it all and gloried in it. The sweep of sensation, the pulse of strength.

Lightning flashed and its charge slammed into the ground at the feet of the woman who stood amid the white-hot bolts like a pagan goddess.

Her long black hair flew out around her in the charged atmosphere, snaking across her eyes, whipping around her throat. Her fingertips practically vibrated with power as lightning danced to her whims.

Electrified white bolts cracked across the black sky, then forked into the desert floor. Sand geysers erupted all around her as energy sizzled and burned. Thunder roared. Clouds roiled. Juniper and manzanita dipped and swayed with the wind. The skeletal arms of the ocotillo behind her waved, scraping at her back like a demon demanding attention.

But she ignored every distraction—including her own apprehension. Exhilarating as it was to command nature in such a way, a part of Teresa cringed, horrified at what she was now able to do. The lightning danced, plowing into the earth at her feet again and again, and every cell in her body sizzled from the near contact. She felt as if she, too, were electrified and that tiny, horrified part of her wanted to run and hide from all of this.

She didn’t, though. Couldn’t. Couldn’t turn her back on the very legacy she had been training for most of her life. Now that it was here, magic opening up inside her, she would simply have to find a way to master it.

Four days ago she had had the first dream. A terrorfilled nightmare with flames chewing at her skin while demons howled and crowds cheered. She’d jolted from sleep in a sharp panic, her own hair wrapped around her throat like a noose as she gasped for air that wouldn’t come. She had known then that her
abuela
’s prophecies were coming true.

Then the magic appeared. Small things at first. Sparking a match without striking it against anything. Touching the television and it coming to life. Lightbulbs shattering when she touched them. Streetlights blinking out when she brushed against the pole.

And today … She had followed her instincts, somehow
knowing
that the lightning was calling to her. At first sight of the storm on the horizon, a deep well of power had opened up inside Teresa, as if it had been waiting for nature’s fury to completely awaken. She had driven into the desert outside Sedona, Arizona, to meet that storm head-on. To walk into the maelstrom and somehow master it.

For more than an hour now, she had worked, pulling down the lightning, trying to direct it to specific targets—because what was the point of having the power if she couldn’t control it? And in this time, when witches and even those
suspected
of witchcraft were being locked away, or worse, she needed that control. Her new power would make her a magnet for disaster. She had to be able to draw on her own strengths to protect herself and those she loved.

“Come
on
,” she whispered. “Focus, Teresa. Make it work.”

Red sandstone rock formations surrounded her. With sunlight slanting across them, the rocks seemed to glow a brilliant orange and red. Under a forbidding gray sky, they were filled with shadows, their wind-carved surfaces taking on the shapes of faces that seemed to watch her.

She was just outside Red Rock State Park and hoping that both the weather and the harsh terrain would keep tourists at bay.

October in Arizona meant cooler temperatures and an influx of visitors who came to Sedona not only for the natural beauty but also to gather at the many vortexes in and around the city. The vortexes were sites of spiritual ceremonies and drew the mystical and the curious every year. Teresa had gone to a few ceremonies herself over the years, knowing as she did that there was far more to the spiritual plane than most people suspected.