Witch's Hunger

THE DANGER IN THEIR DESIRE

As a Triad witch, Vivienne François knows better than to let Nikoli Hyland get too close. Her family’s ancient curse means Viv can never be with the sexy human warrior. If she succumbs to her forbidden desires, she risks losing everything and putting all humanity in danger. Still, Nikoli affects her like no other...

Nikoli swore an oath to protect the world from the Cartesians, interdimensional beasts bent on destruction. He needs Viv’s help to defeat them, but the feisty beauty’s company makes focusing on the mission difficult. Viv and Nikoli know how to fight evil; it’s battling their hearts that could be their undoing.

“I’ll get the bloodstones,” Viv said. “How many do you think we’ll need?”

“Twelve should do it.”

“I’ll bring sixteen. Always better to have more than not enough, right?”

Nikoli gave her a sultry look. “It’s always better to have more.”

Viv cleared her throat and rummaged through the bloodstones, but she felt her breathing quicken. There was no ignoring Nikoli’s scent—a mixture of leather, musk and fresh, rain-kissed air. No one had ever affected her this way. Viv narrowed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the bloodstones.

“I think we’re good,” she said, chancing a look at Nikoli’s face. Big mistake. When she’d turned to him, they were but a breath apart.

Both of them froze, eyes locked, and in that moment the rest of Viv’s world disappeared. All that existed was the scent of him, the brawn of him. The only thing either of them had to do was move a fraction of an inch and...

Award-winning and bestselling author DEBORAH LEBLANC is a business owner, a licensed death-scene investigator and an active member of two national paranormal investigation teams. She’s the president of the Horror Writers Association, Mystery Writers of America’s Southwest chapter and the Writers’ Guild of Acadiana. Deborah is also the creator of the LeBlanc Literacy Challenge, an annual national campaign designed to encourage more people to read, and Literacy, Inc., a nonprofit organization with a mission to fight illiteracy in America’s teens. For more information go to www.deborahleblanc.com and www.literacyinc.com.

Witch’s Hunger

Deborah LeBlanc

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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For Pookie and Sarah.

It’s been a long, hard road without you...

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

The triplets had known trouble since birth.

Near the north wall of a vast cavern southeast of Marseilles stood a wide stone table. Behind the table sat the Council of Elders for the Circle of Sisters—Magda, head of the council, Bayonne and Palmae.

Magda, shaking with fury, glared at the three young women standing before them. Esmee, the eldest of the triplets and most outspoken, and her sisters, Lisette and Julianne François. The girls’ shadows danced across the stone walls from the multitude of candles that illuminated the dank cave.

They were forced to wear sackcloth and walk the many miles to the meeting area. They stood dirty, sweating and trembling with fear at what they were about to face. They were identical in appearance save for their eyes. Each held a unique color. Esmee’s were brilliant blue, Lisette’s a shiny copper and Julianne’s blacker than any shade of night.

All three pairs of eyes were now downcast, the girls’ heads bowed in sorrow and submission. Coal-black hair fell across alabaster skin. The cave smelled of their sweat, burning candles and the earthy scent of the dirt beneath their feet.

Magda, as head of the council, held the staff of judgment so tightly in her right hand her knuckles had turned white. Her fury was undeniable. The staff of judgment was eight inches long, made of thick, polished Elder-wood and topped with a bloodstone the size of a small woman’s fist. The staff was the ballast used only in severe cases, of which this was definitely one.

Being responsible for an entire clan of witches spread throughout France, especially in the fifteenth century, was no small feat. She held fast to being firm and fair, and unwavering from protocol. Despite her anger, looking at the triplets made her heart ache and cluttered her thoughts.

This wasn’t the first time the sisters had stood before the council. Mostly for misdemeanors on other occasions. Their youth accounted for the majority of the dismissals of those cases.

Magda knew the council granted special favors to the triplets out of pity. Years ago, their parents had left a theater late one evening when a band of thieves shot out from a dark alley and murdered both of them. The triplets had only been two years old at the time, and by vote, the Council of Elders decided that Bayonne would take responsibility for them. They’d had no other choice. It was part of their culture. Neither adoption nor abandonment existed in their code of ethics. The Circle of Sisters took care of their own.

Magda always suspected Bayonne had been too lenient on the girls throughout the years, and today’s fiasco seemed to attest to that. At sixteen years old, with a full fourteen years under Bayonne’s tutelage, the young women should have known better.

“But, Elders, we beg of you,” Esmee said. “Please consider reason. Would you not have done the same? Would you have allowed such boldfaced betrayal to go unpunished? Would you not have sought revenge? How can you judge us when we were the ones wronged?”

“You demonstrated complete misuse of your powers,” Magda said gruffly. “Granted, your years may still be tender, and in many ways the three of you still inexperienced with many spells, but you are not naive to our laws. What you did changes the face of the human race. The monstrosities you created will not only kill and destroy other humans, they will breed and mutate, producing subspecies, and their numbers will become endless. Their nightmare will never end. You have executed your revenge, but these creatures will never know peace. They will never have the opportunity to make amends. You chose to be judge, jury and executioner, all of which you had no right. Punishment is due for this atrocity. And the punishment must match the crime.”

Magda glanced at Bayonne, whose eyes brimmed with tears, then at Palmae, who sat ramrod straight, eyes wide with shock. “Are we in agreement here, sisters?” she asked them.

Both gave almost imperceptible nods.

“Very well,” Magda said. “So shall it be.” She held the staff of judgment outright, its tip poised over the stone table.

Suddenly a sensation caught her attention, and Magda cocked her head slightly to one side to listen intently. She heard water dribbling from somewhere within the cave, the ragged, anxious breathing from the triplets and the other two Elders, but little more. Despite that, she felt certain...no...knew that someone was listening to their conversation from the mouth of the cave.

Trusting her instincts, Magda felt that someone was Tenebrus Cray, one of the most self-serving, power-hungry sorcerers she had ever known. Magda thought about storming out to confront him, then considered a better idea.

* * *

They might have gotten away with it, but there’d been too much blood. The entire city raged over the incident. It hadn’t taken long for the Elders to find out. Stupid girls.

Gnawing on that thought, and the piece of clove he had stuck in his mouth earlier, Tenebrus Cray squatted near the entrance of the cave. He leaned in as close as he dared to the opening so as not to miss one word spoken by the women.

The witches had gathered secretly in the stone belly of a hillside, far from prying eyes in Marseilles. He knew their location because he had spotted Magda, Bayonne and Palmae clomping out of town on horseback, each wrapped in their signature, floor-length capes—black, purple and red, respectively.

The three were master witches and all but recluses. They lived in a hovel away from the bustle of the city. Tenebrus had only seen them come out to work in their herb garden. To watch them head out of town was a novelty. To have them retreat so hastily, and on horseback, was unheard of.

Tenebrus knew that Magda had the power of teleportation. Why have an animal bear one’s weight when all one had to do was wave a hand, cast a spell and the three would have immediately teleported to their destination?

Wherever they were going, whatever they intended to do, had to be significant. And Tenebrus was not about to miss the event.

* * *

Magda pounded the stick of judgment on the stone table once. Then decided to complete the trial in their tribal language, Kaswah, a language rarely spoken and only understood by those within the Circle of Sisters.

They had been speaking in French until now. Anyone eavesdropping would only hear gibberish, including Tenebrus. Magda considered casting a silencing boundary, then dismissed the thought. The sorcerer would immediately open it.

She glanced briefly at Bayonne, noticed the tears trickling down her cheeks. Palmae’s expression was one of sheer dread.

Sitting arrow-back straight and lifting her chin, Magda scowled at the triplets. “Step forward.”

The triplets complied, instinctively grabbing a hand of the sister nearest her.

Magda pointed the bloodstone at each young woman, then looked over at the other two Elders and said, “Sisters...”

With that single word, the three Elders recited in unison.

“Jealous lovers,

Vengeance sought.

Defiling nature,

Havoc wrought.

To chastise thee,

We Elders three,

Bind ye now for eternity.”

Palmae and Bayonne slumped back in their chairs but Magda remained straight and focused and let out a sigh.

“From this day forward, you will be responsible for the creatures you have created,” Magda commanded, pounding the staff of judgment once on the stone table. “No longer will you have the freedom to live life as you please. Your purpose and your powers will be used to contain these monstrosities so they do not multiply and exceed the number of humans on earth. You will establish boundaries, you will set binding spells for control. You will supply them food, but only from natural sources.”

Esmee dropped her head wearily. Lisette and Julianne began to weep.

Magda pounded the staff of judgment on the table again to emphasize yet another consequence for their actions. “You and the generations of triplets to follow shall be called Triads from this day forth. The name will serve to identify your wrongdoing. And because you have altered the human race, you and the triplets of future generations are no longer allowed to marry a human nor live intimately with a human.”

Esmee, Lisette and Julianne gasped in unison, as did Palmae. Bayonne let out a sob.

“Magda, this punishment is far too harsh,” Palmae said. “We must consult as Elders before casting such a spell upon these young women.”

“I will hear no more!” Magda shouted. “Did we not agree as a council that the punishment must fit the crime?”

“Yes,” Bayonne said. “But you cannot call this punishment on your own, Magda. Where is your mercy?”

“As head of this council, I am allowed to call the punishment, if punishment is agreed upon, as I see fit. And mercy, you ask? The men whose lives these women have altered are changed forever; who gives them mercy?”

Bayonne lowered her head and Magda immediately turned her attention back to the triplets. “The creatures you have created shall be named accordingly. The one condemned to thirst for blood shall be known as Nosferatu. The one doomed to hunger for flesh yet never be sated shall be known as Loup Garou. And the one you have caused to eternally search for the marrow of bone shall be known as Chenilles. You and future Triads shall protect humans from them, and with the passage of time, as each species interbreeds and mutates, you will assign constables and shepherds to help manage them.”

“But—” Esmee said.

“Silence,” Magda demanded. “Along with those tasks, you and every Triad generation to follow until the end of time will bear the mark of absolutus infinitus on their body as a reminder of this day.” She pointed the bloodstone at Esmee, and the cave echoed with the sound of sizzling flesh.

Esmee hissed in pain, lowered the coverlet of the sackcloth to examine her left shoulder and saw the mark of 8. The absolutus infinitus, at first red, faded quickly to black.

Julianne and Lisette huddled closer to Esmee, but it did not stop Magda’s mission. She aimed the bloodstone at Lisette, who let out a shriek of pain and clutched her right hip. Julianne came next, only hers Magda placed on her right ankle. Julianne bore the pain through gritted teeth.

“Now,” Magda continued, “to minimize the chances of this occurring again, each of you will compile separate tomes. Your tome must include every spell within your knowledge, whether innate or taught. You are to identify each spell, its purpose and the consequences that occur with use of each spell. These tomes will be known as Grimoires. Once they are completed, you will bind each Grimoire in Elder-wood for preservation.”

Magda waved the bloodstone over the stone table that separated the triplets from the Elders. Three palm-sized mirrors appeared on the table, one in front of each triplet. “Behind the front cover of your Grimoire, you will notch out an indention in the wood. One large enough to securely hold one of these mirrors. Understood?”

The triplets only stared at her.

“I said, do you understand?” Magda said loudly.

Esmee nodded slightly, and Lisette and Julianne quickly imitated her acknowledgment.

Seemingly satisfied, Magda continued. “You and every generation of Triads to follow must review your Grimoire daily. The first thing you will see upon opening your tome, however, is the mirror. It will reflect the death and destruction that will befall the world should you or any Triad not live up to her duties.”

Signaling the triplets closer, Magda pointed at the mirrors. “Come closer now and look at what your irresponsibility has set into motion, and why the consequences besetting you are so severe.”

All three sobbing now, the triplets drew closer until they stood at the edge of the stone table. Bayonne and Palmae leaned over to look within the mirrors themselves.

With another pounding from the staff of judgment, the reflective surfaces began to dance with a myriad of colors, swirls of red, purple, green, black. Within seconds, the colors settled into indescribable scenes so vivid it was as if they were seeing them firsthand.

Reflected in each palm-sized mirror was a sea of blood, dead bodies, some mid-decay, some fully decayed. Men, women and children, all strewn about the land like garbage. Blowflies, maggots and buzzards fed on the little bits of flesh that remained on corpses. From within these images, they heard great wailing and gnashing of teeth.

When Magda waved a hand over the mirrors, erasing the images, the triplets fell to their knees, sobbing. Bayonne and Palmae looked visibly shaken.

The shadows within the cave deepened, casting purple and dark gray lattices over each triplet. They were in shock, lost, a terrified look in their eyes.

Although her position as head of the council made it necessary for Magda to execute such punishment, she couldn’t help the pain she felt in her heart for the young women. She had handed down a life sentence that would change not only their lives forever but every generation of Triads to follow.

* * *

Still squatting near the mouth of the cave, Tenebrus, frustrated, strained to understand the words being spoken inside. From the occasional sob he heard coming from inside the cavern, Tenebrus assumed the punishment meted out was harsh. That angered him. Whatever limitations had been imposed on the triplets would limit him, as well.

He had known the three sisters since they were babies, and even back then he’d known something was different about the tiny witches. Triplets in any race seemed an anomaly, but in a tribe of witches, they were nearly nonexistent. So it only made sense that the three held special powers.

The day the triplets were born the Elders of the Circle of Sisters seemed perplexed as to what to make of the unusual birth. It was the beginning of a new race within their tribe. From each set of triplets, one triplet would bear triplets of her own, and so it would be until triplets no longer existed, which probably meant until the end of time.

Tenebrus had been right about them having special powers. All three girls had needed little training from a very young age. Most of the spells they conjured as children took many witches years to learn. Each triplet had special gifts in her own right, but he’d often wondered about what might happen if their powers were melded together. Well, he had to wonder no more. He had witnessed it firsthand the other evening.

The night of the incident, the one that resulted in the trip to this cavern, happened at Lord Chermoine’s castle. A prenuptial gathering prepared for the intendeds of the triplets—the wedding scheduled for the following day—and Tenebrus had garnered an invitation, which came as no surprise. He’d cast a simple yearning spell to make certain his name appeared on the roster.

An unfortunate delay, or fortunate depending on one’s point of view, caused Tenebrus to arrive at the castle late. Just in time to see the triplets standing outside the castle beside their intendeds, screaming about unfaithfulness. Women Tenebrus knew to be of ill repute ran out of the castle and scattered from the estate on foot, obviously not wanting any part of the tumult taking place outside.

Tenebrus hid behind a tree and watched as each triplet pointed to her intended, railing him unabashedly with obscenities.

Then the girls quickly gathered, joined hands and uttered words Tenebrus had never heard before. They swayed and chanted and from where he hid, Tenebrus felt the air thicken and begin to vibrate. Even with so much distance between him, he saw fear in the eyes of the men meant to marry these women.

Suddenly, Esmee pointed to the man she was to marry the next day and proclaimed, “You blame the drink for your actions, for your unfaithfulness. So let it be. From this day forth, you will thirst from your very core. You shall thirst for that which does not come easily and you will never know satisfaction.”

No sooner were those words uttered than the man’s face began to contort, widen and turn white. The hair on his head fell away as if someone with shears had been working behind the scenes, waiting for this very moment. His scalp was now white and bulbous with a large vein running up from the center of his forehead then branching out on top of his skull like tree branches. His mouth opened wide as he cried out in pain. His two front teeth became thin and sharp, incisor-like, and grew to unimaginable lengths. His eyes turned ruby red. The tips of his ears grew long and pointed. He stood frozen for only a moment, watching, feeling his own transformation, then ran for the woods behind the castle.

The two other men looked on in bewilderment and fear. Lisette pointed to her intended and proclaimed, “If you want to act like a beast, then you shall be a beast for all eternity. Your nights will no longer be your own. You will crave flesh like an animal.”

Her words caused an immediate transformation in the man. Her intended cried out in pain as fur covered his entire face, and his mouth and nose elongated, creating a snout. His body seemed to explode in width and height. His teeth were no longer those of a man but the fangs of a wolf.

The sisters appeared unaffected by the transformations taking over the men.

The man-wolf howled, confusion obvious in his eyes, and he, too, ran for the woods.

Julianne’s intended had evidently seen enough for he, too, began to run. Even if he had gained twice the speed, it would not be fast enough to escape Julianne’s spell.

She pointed at him, “You claim your excuse for unfaithfulness to the mindlessness that comes with drink, so you shall remain mindless. Always controlled by another. No longer will you have a mind of your own that allows free will, and you shall hunger for the bone marrow of the man you once were before engaging with that harlot.”

Instinctively, Tenebrus knew the sisters had no idea about the seriousness of what they had just done.

When Julianna completed her spell, the sisters joined hands. They raised them to the heavens and proclaimed that by the power of three and every element that made up the universe, no witch or sorcerer could break their spell, no matter how powerful he or she might be.

The mutation of the third man did not appear as hideous as the former two. Oddly, he simply grew taller, thinner, but something in his eyes went empty, like the life within him had drained away. Not even fear registered in them.

Tenebrus wanted that kind of power. Absolute control over the elements of fire, water, earth and air. Over all who existed on this planet.

He had studied the triplets for years and for the past ten years, Tenebrus had become obsessed with finding a way to combine their power with his own. A sorcerer could not drain the power from this special breed of witch. But if he studied them, then took what he learned and joined that with his own superior power, he’d be ruler over every being on earth. His power would be supreme. Ultimate.

* * *

Sensing Tenebrus’s presence even stronger caused Magda’s anger to boil in her veins. If for nothing else but spite, she would stop this event immediately. But she couldn’t. As head Elder, she had to set an example for the fifteen-hundred plus witches she, Bayonne and Palmae were responsible for.