Fire Eyes - ISBN (13): 978-1-59596-220-1
Demelza has no choice but to venture into the shadowed forest. Only her witchcraft can save her people from the devil dogs that threaten their village. Drawing on the magic that has made her both sacred and isolated, she confronts the fire-eyed man who runs with the dogs. She knows what she must do. His life is forfeit.
Kevern of Wessex is an outcast, barely human. His only companions are the savage beasts. Now a maiden stands before him, her fragile throat ripe for his teeth, her body his for the taking.
His life or hers… a choice neither wants to make.
But it from Changeling Press Now!
Excerpt
The woods closed in around the young Quantock witch Demelza. Although she’d hurried to where the terribly wounded old man had been found several days ago and should have been warm, she felt chilled. Her hooded, ground-length brown cape covered the gauzy dress she’d chosen for her unwanted but inescapable task, and her leather shoes provided protection. At her mother’s prompting, she’d left her ebony hair to flow down her back instead of in the wrapped braids she usually wore.
“Loose hair makes you appear innocent instead of what the gods made you,” her mother had told her. “And when the devil man sees you in a gown created from almost nothing, he will think only of his manhood’s needs. Rendered stupid in the way of most men, he will not question why you have come to him until it is too late.”
“This is necessary?” Demelza had repeated a question she’d asked earlier. “Working together, cannot you and I cast a spell over him? We have weakened other men who sought to destroy. Surely –”
“We tried. And tried. Daughter, dark forces surround this creature and protect him and the dogs he runs with, especially the great midnight colored one, from our powers. My dreams say there is only one way to defeat him. Much as I hate them, I believe those black dreams.”
“I know. I am sorry. I should not question your wisdom.”
“Not wisdom, resignation. If there was any other way…”
Perhaps she should have asked her mother how to handle the devil man’s carnal demands, but although she was unmarried she was no innocent. Because her small village afforded few secrets, from early childhood she’d been aware of couples mating.
Even before she’d fully understood what her body was capable of experiencing, she’d felt furtive touches from men both young and old who saw her as desirable and briefly forgot what she was. Those touches had promised magic, and when she could no longer ignore her own needs, she’d begun spreading her legs. During those quick and furtive couplings, she’d closed her mind to the possibility that she might be accused of casting a spell over a man, but once her fire had been extinguished, reality had always returned. Men desired her ripe, hot body. What they feared was having their weakness exposed. Her power.
What power? Would a true witch tremble as I tremble today?
Casting aside the question, she again turned her thoughts to the terrible burden and responsibility that had brought her to this foreboding place.
She was here for one thing — to kill.
But first she must seduce the dark and deadly man who lived with the devil dogs who’d torn a frail, elderly man apart. She’d open herself to the stranger, offer her rich, hot-blooded flesh and take from his. Instead of having to conduct herself in a modest manner as she struggled to do within her village, she’d seduce and enchant, grant herself full release. And when she and the stranger had finished fucking, she’d bury her knife in his heart. She had to, otherwise her village might be doomed.
Aware of the deep shadows and fast-dying day, she asked herself what she must do to keep the dogs’ fangs off her throat. At her witch mother’s side she’d learned chants which calmed and quieted enemy soldiers when they rode into her village. She prayed the hell hounds would hear and obey if she used what touched human hearts. If she discovered the beasts were immune to spells, she’d wrap a protective one around herself before going about the deadly and necessary task of slitting their throats. By then, she prayed, the man who ran with them would have stopped breathing.
And if she failed –
An unexpected sound tore at her thoughts. Stopping, she cocked her head and listened. Her muscles felt as taut as bowstrings. She smelled bark and earth and saw dense tree-caused shadows and nearly lost herself in the sensations. She’d always loved coming alone to the forest so she could become one with the creatures who made their homes here, but today they were silent. The only sound was the one which she now recognized as a distant howl.
“Hear me, Morning Ghost,” she prayed aloud. “You have long guided me and turned my hands into healing tools. I beg of you, stay by my side.”
Strengthened by the wispy, smoky essence that was her spirit guide, she forced herself to walk in the direction of the howl. With each step she felt stronger and more self-assured. Feeling Morning Ghost’s sunlit presence beside her, she reminded herself why she was here and why she had no choice in this mission.
“Please, place your wisdom and courage in my blood,” she continued. “Make me strong for what I must do. The man I seek is not human. He is evil and must be destroyed.”
The howl had come from a part of the forest so dense she’d never gone there, but as she pushed her way in, she didn’t feel apprehension so much as the belief that her life had never had greater meaning or purpose. She now felt alive, aware.
Then a snow-white dog nearly the size of a pony stepped from behind a large tree, and she stopped with her breath caught at the base of her throat. The animal regarded her, not with blood red eyes as she’d expected but dull yellow ones that briefly made her wonder if she was looking at a wolf. But she’d never heard of a white wolf and none this size. Another dog joined the first. When the third appeared, she wondered how many were here and whether some might have slipped behind her. Although wary and alert, she wasn’t terrified. Her soul had no room for the emotion because her village’s safety and survival, even at the cost of her own life, came first.
“Where is your pack leader?” she asked. Then because maybe they couldn’t understand her voice, she asked the same question in her mind. At the thought of whether the black dog her mother had spoken of or the devil man ruled the pack, she became aware of an alarming weight in her breasts and heat between her legs.
Come to us, the hounds seemed to be saying. Surrender yourself.
No, she answered. I am not a simple, foolish woman. Feel my strength!
As one, the creatures all but turned to stone.
Ancient powers flow through my veins, powers born of my witch mother and warlock father. I draw strength from the earth and immense fires which dwell deep beneath our feet. Yet more strength comes from the sun, wind, winter storms, and spring’s growth. I understand and revere those gifts. They make me strong and brave.
Surrender, the hounds repeated. Become one with us.
Although the promise of becoming something more called to her, to do so would make her vulnerable to whatever dark forces ruled the beasts. Besides, she needed to wait until the black dog and fire-eyed man appeared. She felt as if she’d been charged by a violent storm. Being a witch had long fed her muscles and heart, but it had never been like this.
Slowly, appearing like flame breathed into embers, the midnight dog separated itself from the shadows. It was larger than the others and carried itself like a king. Its eyes were lightning and thunder. Fear licked at her but faded under admiration and awe. “Magnificent,” she whispered. She was tempted to drop to her knees in surrender, but the open mouth and killing fangs kept her on her feet.
“Magnificent?”