Dragon Domain (978-0-9798406-1-6) picks up the story several months and several miles down the road. Cheyenne and Celeste came to Coyote Springs to use their psychic gifts to find a missing child. They find the girl and made a new friend, Jane. Tired of rootless life, Cheyenne prays for a safe, stable home. With Jane's help, she find abandoned farm and decides to stay. Reluctantly, Celeste also remains. The threesome create a spiritual retreat that grows out of their shared wisdom, respect and sense of family. Cheyenne is happy for the first time since she awoke broken and bloody beneath the blinding desert son. Celeste had saved her then, but soon after Dominic appears on their doorstep, Celeste once again turns to the dark arts. Instead of a savior, she becomes vicious enemy with knowledge of all her strengths and weaknesses. With the dragons' aid, she was barely able to ward off their initial attack. But with each dark soul Celeste and Dominic bind to them, their malevolence grows until they will not settle for less that destroying Cheyenne and all she loves. How do you protect yourself from someone knows exactly how to steal your soul? (Available November 30, 2007)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jane stood in front of the window, watching the rain being blown nearly horizontally. The wind howled around the house, shaking the windowpanes. Lightning flashed. Seconds later thunder cracked. It was the middle of the afternoon, yet it was as dark as night. The sensor turned on the streetlights and they bobbed like a lonely beacons on the street a washed with rain.
Lady Bridget and her daughter, Shelly, were in the kitchen, making ice tea by candlelight. Lady Bridget wasn’t exactly what she expected. But then again she didn’t know what to expect. But when the tall, full figured brunette answered the door, she was still surprised. Her long hair hung in a single braid down her back, disguising its true length. Her deep brown eyes shone brightly with the love of life and spirit. Shelly quickly joined her at the door. She was slightly younger version of Bridget. There was no mistaking their common gene pool. Originally, Jane had thought they were sisters. It wasn’t until later during conversation, did she learn Bridget was twenty years senior. The two of them had tittered about Jane’s mistake, implying that it was a common error. They had greeted her openly with trust and love. During dinner, she learned more about April. Some of her past, made Jane apprehensive, but the changes she had made in her path took great courage and strength; they were both qualities Jane admired. By the end of dinner, Jane was reassured.
That had been almost two days ago. Lady Bridget had insisted she stay until she was stronger. Gratefully she had agreed. Being pampered and mothered, she had slept and ate peacefully for the first time in months. The farm and all its problems were so far away, they no longer mattered. She was safe and protected. The urgency she had felt no longer prodded her to move on; something had changed, but she didn’t have a clue to what or how.
The power had been knocked out an hour or so ago. But she wasn’t really sure how long it had been. Her sense of time had gone weird since she arrived in Toledo. They had been talking on the back porch watching the storm blow in. The wind picked up. Together they had gathered the lawn furniture and safely tucked it in the garage. Before they could reach the house, the rain came down without warning. It was a hot summer rain that made it necessary to close the windows but made the inside unbearably hot. They left a few windows open on the sheltered side of the house. It didn’t help much. She felt her way to the chair and sat down. It was a comfy old chair that had already been softened by many other butts. Leaning back, she shifted her position so she’d still be able to look out the window.
Thunder rumbled. Lightning struck. The house shook. The room was ablaze like daylight. Suddenly Jane became uneasy. An electrical current surrounded her, making the air around her cold and rank. Its fingers reached for her heart. She screamed.
Lady Bridget and Shelly raced into the room, each carrying a candle. Bridget stopped short and shoved Shelly back out of the room. Quickly circling her left hand above the candle flame, she drew up an intense white ball of light. It grew to the size of a basketball. Angrily she shouted. “Dark One, who invades my domain, return whence you came.” She threw the ball at Jane. It hit in front of her, exposing the dark shadow of a figure looming over her. It crackled and hissed.
For an instant, Jane saw Celeste’s face. Horrified by the naked evil she saw in her eyes, she shrieked and covered her face.
The shadow folded into itself and disappeared through the window, cracking the pane. Another window cracked, echoing off the walls.
“Mother?” The younger woman’s voice questioned, but revealed no fear.
“Protect Jane.” Lady Bridget ordered.
Shelly nodded. Crossing the room, she stood behind Jane’s chair. Using the candlestick, she drew a double pentacle in the air. “I surround Jane and myself in the protection of the Goddess.” Stepping closer to the chair, she made a circle, which encompassed them both. “With this candle, I set up a barrier of light from each direction.” She raised the candle. “And from above.” She lowered the candle. “And below. This barrier is created from the will of the Goddess; it is seamless and impenetrable, unending as the Goddess’s love. It reflects back to the sender all negativity both the seen and the unseen the direct and the indirect. So mote it be.”
The air around them warmed. Jane felt like a child next to the younger woman. She looked up at her. Shelly was no longer a woman in her early twenties; she was a Priestess, knowledgeable in her craft and strong with the energy of the Goddess. “What about your mother?”
Shelly leaned around the chair, carefully keeping with in the glow of the candle. “Mother is safe. She has battled worse before and sent him squealing with his tail between his legs. No matter what. Stay in the circle of light. She needs to concentrate on him. Not worry about us.”
It made sense to Jane.
The younger woman sat on the arm of the chair, taking Jane’s hand in her own. “We’ll be ok. Mom called the others when we heard you scream. Her working partners are just minutes away. Besides,” she proudly shook back her long wavy hair, “my mother can take care of it herself.”
“Shush!” Lady Bridget hissed. The candle held high, she scanned the room. Her brown eyes darted from corner to corner. She walked toward the center of the room. The floor beneath her creaked. Lightning flashed, illuminating the room. For an instant, a dark form was revealed hovering within the folds of the drapes.
Jane’s scream as cut short by Shelly’s hand, becoming more of a muffled squeak.
“Shussh.” Shelly whispered. “You’re safe. Mom knows it’s there.”
“I know who it is.” Jane whispered back.
“Later.” The younger woman brought a single finger to her lips.”
Nodding, Jane involuntary pulled her feet onto the cushions of the chair. Her stomach churned. She was out of her league, out of possibilities, and nearly out of courage. She was an intuitive who studied Wicca. But nothing she had learned had prepared her for this kind of experience.
Lady Bridget stood alone in the darkness of the room. Her attention totally focused.
Lightning flashed in sequence, giving the room a strobbing effect. It was enough to give the shadow dimension and form. It was the size of a serving platter. Patches were nearly transparent. Other parts were too dense to see through. It pulsed in the rhythm of a heart beating. The general shape changing with each beat.
Streams of pure white light came up from the floor and down from the ceiling, engulfing Lady Bridget. It folded around her as the streams met and combined. Holding the candle with both hands before her, she released it. Instead of falling, it was held suspended. Spreading her arm out palms up, she slowly pivoted her hands. Highly focused beams of silver shot out of her palms, combining in the flame of the candle, and shot across the room, hitting the shadow.
It squealed. Shrinking back, it tried to hide deeper in the folds of the curtains. The light followed, spreading out to cover the shadow in violet flames. The squeal increased in pitch until it went beyond what the human ear could register, yet the sound vibration could be felt on their skin like an itch scratching wouldn’t cure. The windowpane rattled, threatening to break. Lightning flashed. Thunder cracked. Another flash revealed the presence of a second shadow. It joined with the first. The itch stopped. Together they disburse the flame, eating their way up the light to Lady Bridget.
Jane saw her weaken. She tugged on Shelly’s sleeve. “Go help her.” She whispered. “Never mind me.”
“I can’t” Shelly cried.
The front door burst open. Footsteps raced across the entranceway. Two men followed by a woman appeared in the archway. The younger man continued into the room; stepping behind Lady Bridget, he placed his open hands behind hers. Gold streams of light joined the silver, intertwining and reinforcing.
The shadows were forced back. Pushed, but not injured, both shadows escaped out the window. The storm continued. For a moment, the house was silent. The candle flickered out and fell to the floor with a clatter. The streams ceased. Only Shelly’s candle remained; its light was the only illumination in the room.
“It’s over.” Lady Bridget collapsed against the man behind her.
“What the hell brought him back?” The elderly man demanded from the darkness.
“Is she ok?” The unknown woman beside him asked. “We need light.” She continued. “Shelly drop your shield. It’s over and start lighting the candles.”
“Yes Grandmother.” Shelly licked her lips. “All is well. All is clear. Time for the shield to disappear.” The candle flickered but did not go out. She quickly stood and circled the room, lighting every candle she could find. With in minutes the room was a maze of flickering candle shadows and intertwining circles of candlelight.
The younger man had carried Lady Bridget to the sofa and was kneeling on the floor beside her. His build and general appearance was that of the elderly man, only his hair was longer and age hadn’t weighed down on his back. “You called Hon. I’ll be the first to admit you were right. He did come back.”
Taking one of the candles, the elderly woman quietly slipped from the room.
“Sometimes it would be good to be wrong.” She dryly answered. “Shelly, are you and Jane ok?”
“Yes, Mom. Are you?”
Lady Bridget nodded. “He has found a companion and followers.” She looked directly at the elderly man. “He’s stronger than before.” Her voice held the angry edge of an accusation.
“Is she one of them?” The elderly man demanded.
“No.” Lady Bridge countered. “One of his intended victims. One of many that didn’t need to be.”
