A WARLOCK’S KISS: THE ORDER OF THE BLACK OAK - WARLOCKS by Marie-Claude Bourque

Author:Marie-Claude Bourque [Bourque, Marie-Claude]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SEA STORM PUBLISHING
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Kera’s truck tires screeched as she turned onto the narrow road toward Norwich Haven. Driving in the dark, after sitting at the sea wall for hours to settle her mind, she still couldn’t decide how upset she was at Diesel.

When she’d left him behind, she truly believed that he was meant to stay behind. She’d attacked him and knew there was no way they could recover from that as a couple. There was also that underlying ugly feeling that he could have done more to save her mom.

But now, her stance on that was softening.

Unease crept in as she dug deeper into her feelings. Diesel had a point. In panther form, her mom had been on her own. She’d been no match for Burton’s magic, no one in the Order would dare to tap into that kind of otherworldly power. Theirs came from the earth. His was pure evil.

James Rodney Burton, rogue sorcerer. He had traded with his soul to stay immortal. Banished by the Order six generations ago.

Kera’s truck slowed down as she neared the tiny seaside village of Norwich Haven with its few lights twinkling in the dark.

Maybe she could just let it go, leave Diesel alone. He had the dagger now. He would release Celeste at dawn.

She sighed. Her sources of Burton’s meeting in Mystic Town were solid. But risky. There were little risks in letting Celeste be freed. The ritual had all the chances to work.

She’d have to get Burton later on.

Damn. Could she wait that long?

She should be angry with Diesel for stealing the blade back. Her body had betrayed her.

But what they had, their love, that was over.

Too many hurts and betrayals now separated them.

He was looking after his sister and the Order. That was all he cared about now.

And when the deliverance ritual was over, she would get the dagger back. Then hunt Burton down.

She buried deep inside her the hint of sadness she felt at losing Diesel again and cranked the radio louder, unwilling to get sentimental.

Fast drums filled her ears as she passed the small street where she lived, once more skipping her tiny studio above Johnny’s Diner, and headed instead for the Sea Dweller and the small cabin where she liked to stay the night. Tony had his own family cape house in Wickham where he would return every night to his wife, brand new entertainment center, and friendly neighbors. So the boat was all hers at night.

The autumn air was cold, but once she’d made some tea and wrapped herself in her thick sleeping bag, she’d feel better.

Her mood improved as she neared the shore. This was home, the docks, the boats.

Not a place for Diesel. No. Hers alone.

She took a left toward the quiet docks. Midnight. No one would be there at this hour.

She was surprised to see a strange cloud of smoke rise in the air, shimmering in the docks spotlights. Was someone there? Most fishermen wouldn’t hang out here when their days were done.

Cautious, she drove closer and parked in the fleet’s lot, just past the ferry landing.

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