Prologue
Raphael
ONE HUNDRED FIFTY YEARS AGO
I couldn’t be more grateful to have a week off. Working for the Conclave had been a great change, but it was exhausting. Being in a quiet, small town seemed like a good idea until I realized there was only one tavern. Hopefully, they had a good selection.
Walking inside, I took my hat off and walked straight over to the bar, sitting on the stool in the corner so I could keep an eye on the other customers. The bartender was at the other end helping another patron, so I tapped my fingers while I waited. With a quick glance around, I made sure no one was paying attention to the newcomer, but everyone was minding their own business. Good. I took the opportunity to run my eyes down the length of the bartender. He was slim, but I could tell he was fit. Not too skinny, and his rear was firm. Very firm from the looks of it.
When the man finally turned around, my breath caught. He was gorgeous with those bright blue eyes and light hair. His eyes shone even from across the long bar, but as soon as they met mine, I froze. I could feel his power from here. He wasn’t a human; he was a warlock. But… there weren’t any known warlocks living in this town. That was why I’d picked it as my home base. Close to work, but far from anything in the magical community.
The bartender’s face morphed from friendly to terrified in a millisecond, obviously picking up on the fact that I was a warlock as well. I wasn’t sure why that terrified him so much, unless he was on the run from the Conclave. For reasons I couldn’t explain, I didn’t want him to run. I didn’t want him scared. His blue eyes had snared me from the moment I saw them, so I sent him a soft, friendly smile in the hopes of mollifying him.
The terror on his face didn’t ease, but he did make his way over to me, albeit slowly.
When he stopped in front of me, he said in a soft voice, “What can I get you?” His shaky voice betrayed his fear.
“I’ll take your best whiskey.”
He nodded and went to turn around, but I wasn’t done with him yet, so I grabbed his sleeve for a second to stop him. When he looked me in the eyes, I let go and said, “I’m Raphael Leif Crane Bloodgood. Who are you?”
He swallowed thickly. “Isiah.” He didn’t give me a last name, and that was alright. At least he hadn’t run yet.
“It’s nice to meet you, Isiah.” I glanced around to be sure no one was listening, then lowered my voice. “I’d like to talk to you in private, if that’s alright with you?”
His eyes drew down, and I could feel his fear underneath his skin. His magic was rippling, and even though he was scared, his power had a calming feel to it, earthy and wonderful.
To put him at ease, I added, “I only want to talk, Isiah. I could… use a friend in this town.”
He searched my face for a few seconds before he nodded. “If you’d like to stay until closing time, we can talk then.”
I nodded and smiled. “That would be wonderful.”
“I’ll retrieve your drink.”
I stayed the rest of the night, expecting him to make a break for it, but other than shooting me glances and long looks, he’d stuck to doing his job.
At the end of the night, he closed and locked the door after the last patron left, then turned to me, and immediately, threw a shield up in front of himself. His earthy magic took on a vine appearance that was mesmerizing. If he wasn’t so scared of me right now, I would ask if I could examine and admire it.
“What is it that you want, Mr. Bloodgood? I have no obligation to the Conclave. I’ve broken none of your laws. I’ve minded my own business. Why have you come for me?” His words were strong, but I heard the small quiver at the end.
“Isiah, I’m not here on Conclave business. I came in for a drink because I’m renting a room in town and was looking for a place to relax.”
“If you’re not here on Conclave business, why did you want a word in private?”
I sent him a smile. “Because I thought it would be nice to make a friend here, and… you’re beautiful.” I couldn’t have said that in front of humans, not to another man, but warlocks didn’t have the same disposition on men lying with other men or women with other women. We never had. Our culture was of the mind that love was a celebration, no matter who it was that you loved.
“Excuse me?” Isiah dropped his hand, but didn’t release his shield.
“Even your magic is beautiful, Isiah… what did you say your surname was?”
“I didn’t.”
When he didn’t offer it, I figured maybe that was why he was scared, so I left it alone. For the time being. “Would you feel better if I took an oath and promised you no harm?”
His shield faltered. “You would do that?”
“Of course.” I pulled my magic around myself and willed it to do my bidding. My magic was fire-based. Not surprising since there was always a bit of a risk that I’d explode at any moment. “I vow to do no harm to Isiah… as long as he does no harm to me.” My fire magic swirled around me, burning the oath into my very skin. My fire never burned me, but this was different. This was a promise spell, one I had every intention of keeping. It was well worth it to spend even one minute with the beautiful man in front of me. If I broke it, the burning would intensify by one hundred or more, burning me from the inside.
Isiah dropped his shield. “I cannot believe you did that. You don’t know me.”
“No, I don’t. But I’d like to.”
He licked his pink lips and scanned the bar before nodding. “What would you like to know?”
My magic hummed underneath my skin as if it wanted to reach out and touch Isiah’s. I grinned and took a step closer to him. He held his ground, watching me warily, and I whispered, “Do you feel that?”
He nodded.
“I think… it’s as if my magic recognizes yours,” I whispered. “It wants to know you as badly as I do.”
His eyes were searching for a long moment before he admitted, “Mine feels the same.”
I smiled at him, then held my hand out, palm up. An invitation.
He hesitated before gently placing his hand in mine. The moment our skin touched, I felt both our magics come to life, like two cats rubbing against each other in soft caresses. His bright blue eyes met mine, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he felt it as well. It felt like we were meant to meet, meant to know each other.
I whispered, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Isiah. Would you like to go somewhere to talk?”
He swallowed thickly and nodded. “Up on the roof. My familiar likes to explore at night, and I like to keep an eye on her.”
I smiled. “Mine will meet us there as well.”
He gingerly released his hand from my grip, then walked toward the back door. When he glanced over his shoulder and gestured for me to follow, I took a step toward him, and somewhere deep inside, I knew my life would never be the same.
Lazarus
SIXTEEN MONTHS AGO
Traveling for work could be fun, especially when I came away from an estate sale with some great pieces for my antiques shop. I didn’t travel too often anymore, but I was glad I didn’t pass up this opportunity. And tonight, I was celebrating.