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  DESTINY OF THE WITCH

  by

  J. M. Davies

  This book is a work of fiction. Any reference to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by J.M.Davies

  Visit J.M.Davies official web-site

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  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2020

  Author J.M.Davies

  Cover Art provided by G.S.Prendergast.

  Copyediting provided by Faith Williams from the Atwater Group.

  Other books by J. M. Davies

  The Rise of Orion series

  Becoming the Witch

  Capturing the last Welsh Witch

  The Witch’s Heart

  Revenge of the Witch

  Destiny of the Witch

  Other titles

  The Deal

  Marnie’s Plan

  Forgotten Love

  Author J. M. Davies Cheerleaders

  Wanna be part of my crazy street team? I hope so. One of the best parts of being an author for me is definitely meeting readers and making friends. In this group, I share my writing journey with you. Give you, insider knowledge of what an author goes through when writing a book. Maybe not every little detail, but every now and then, I will reach out asking for help with naming a character or coming up with hobbies for them, because bringing a book out into the world is not something I ever do alone. While the writing part is mine alone, there is so much more to bringing a book to life, to find out more details and to discover more about me check out the link below. I hope to connect with you there where we can chat and get to know each other more. Cheers, Jen

  Author J. M. Davies Cheerleaders

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank my friend, Jennifer Smith for being my critique partner. Dianne Donovan my proofreader, who searches with her critical eye for errors that I am blinded to. My editor, Faith Williams for her ability to keep track of the series to ensure I am consistent throughout with characters and plot. My beta-readers, Jeran Hurlbert, Gloria Watson and Dorothy Putnam for inspiring me to go back and dig a little deeper. Lastly, my family, I would not be able to complete any book without my husband Paul Davies, and my children who provide unwavering support while I write, which make the countless hours of doubt and worry worthwhile.

  “Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.”

  Aristotle

  The Soul-Shifter’s Curse

  The moon goddess Ariana spent five centuries roaming the earth in search of her lover and soulmate, creating many offspring in her wake. It was because of this, the jealous god Dagda, whose love for the goddess went unrequited, cursed her soul-shifter descendants, born half human and half god. These magical creatures have the ability at the end of their human life to be born again, always searching for their soulmate, seeking love and survival. Once bonded, mates are immortal. However, Dagda’s curse means they only have five chances to meet their fated mate, and if they don’t—their fifth life will be their last.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Roman De’ Luca and Isabella Lockhart, you are surrounded today by your family and friends, who have gathered here to celebrate your handfasting…”

  Ella peered at the crowd whose attention centered on the stunning couple at the front, ready to take their vows. Everyone watched the vampire and witch, all except the man with brown eyes that flickered with a ring of fire. His sole focus—was her. Time drifted back to the past. The past in which she was Lady Elizabeth Dempsey in the nineteenth century. The hairs along her arm stood up, and a scream lodged inside her dry throat as horrifying memories resurfaced. Dragging her gaze away from the vampire, she searched the crowd for her husband Marcus. One quick acknowledgment was all she managed before she sought the brute out once more, not willing to lose sight, needing confirmation. After all, it had been centuries since she had seen him last.

  But flicking her eyes over one face after another, the one she had been searching for stood out in the crowd, and there could be no mistake. The same smug, ever youthful face held her captive. Clenching her teeth until her jaw ached, the familiar snap of the whip echoed, dragging her back in time. Every nerve ending in her body tightened as she recalled the torture she had experienced at the hands of this vampire, and a cold sweat bathed her skin.

  “Do you, Roman De’ Luca…” Zephra addressed the bride and groom, but her voice and that of the cats’ constant meowing faded.

  The past reached out like tentacles stealing her away, and Ella’s mind wandered back to a time of brutal desolation. The leather whip slashed across her tender skin. The stinging pain made her gag and heave. She clamped a hand over her lips in case she vomited. But unable to stop the onslaught of memories, the past greeted her, and she faced Gabriel, back in 1815. His softly spoken words echoed beside her ear.

  “We live in dangerous times, you and I, my dear. I’ve been around for centuries and as such, I am aware of those who seek to do us harm. Joining the Elusti, an organization that takes the law into its own hands, was my way of keeping a close eye on my enemy. Outwardly, its rules may be seen to assist the law; covertly, they hunt those who are different. Those who have power, they crave more than money. Your husband doesn’t know this, but he knows enough, and called on the duke for his assistance with you. You see—you are quite a problem. An errant wife, who will not comply, who has secret liaisons with the Roma. One, I might add, who has magic in her veins. But you spurned me, and I dislike being disrespected by a mere woman. You only have yourself to blame, really. In delivering you, I ensure the vampires continue to thrive unnoticed. It is called survival, my dear.”

  Rage erupted through her veins and filled her with an energy she lacked these last several days. “You bastard. You’re a traitor—I could expose you for what you are.”

  He flew from the wall and gripped her throat, digging his sharp nails in her flesh. “Do you imagine they would believe a single word you say, my dear? My talents go way beyond my speed. I can make them forget in the blink of an eye. Remove thoughts from their puny minds or introduce notions they never had while draining them of blood. I detest humans, but unfortunately this planet is overflowing with them. I wanted you because you’re unique. But, alas, you’re far too stubborn to control. I cannot gain your compliance like the humans, and I fear you’re too much trouble.”

  Gabriel released her and stepped back, eyeing the door. “I wish it could be another way, but if I’m right—we’ll meet again.”

  The vampire had been as guilty as Sir Charles, her husband at the time, for her death and that of the Roma, Raven. Memories of her previous life as Lady Elizabeth swirled around. In 1815, she took her marriage vows, unaware of her rising magic. She had no clue of her heritage, but it was different now.

  When a foul stench rose around her, the ghosts from the past disappeared, and blood-curdling screams brought her back to the present.

  Ella spun around, facing a bloody battle scene. Chaos surrounded her and for a moment, she froze, unsure what to do. Marcus was at the edge of the beach, fighting several monsters, and the cats from the island were jumping on the creatures’ backs and clawing at them, only to be tossed aside. Ghost
ly skeletal and sinewy figures swarmed the wedding party like ants, wielding swords and brandishing axes and slicing down those in their way. The creatures dragged thick swirls of mist from the ocean, making visibility patchy at best. The moans and yells grew louder.

  When a one-armed corpse hollered and lunged at her with his silver blade held high above his mottled head, Ella launched into action. Luckily, with her attacker’s reduced eyesight, his aim sucked, and he missed, giving her time to duck out of the way. The sudden movement ripped the delicate seam of her dress, revealing her stash of weapons strapped to her legs. Grabbing her knife from the holster secured around her thigh, she twisted around, ready to fight back, but hesitated for a second, unsure where to stick her weapon into the boney carcass to cause maximum damage. A silver breastplate covered the creature’s chest.

  Cries and roars surrounded her. Ella couldn’t believe the chaos and plunged the knife into the monster’s side, where pink muscle and torn flesh hung loose. The creature wailed but managed to grab her throat and squeezed it tight. His sharp skeletal bones tightened, shutting off her air supply, stealing her breath. Blinking to stay awake, she watched as a blurry figure grabbed the decomposing form. In one fluid motion, he snapped the creature’s neck and ripped the head off, dropping it to the ground. Heaving in a lungful of oxygen, she didn’t have time to respond as Roman, the prince of vampires, whisked her off the ground to stand next to Isabella on the wedding dais. The vampire pulled her in close and hugged her tight.

  “I should’ve known…” she said, still catching her breath. “I detected a foul scent earlier. It smelled like a dead body,” Ella said. Being a soul-shifter, one of her talents was to detect other creatures by their scents. She crouched low with her small blade out in front, backed against Roman, Isabella, and several vamps as the fog swirled around them.

  “That monster would’ve killed you, Ella. How the hell did they get through the wards?” Isabella asked.

  “I would like to know the answer to that,” Roman yelled.

  “The wards were set up so no one would get inside…” Isabella shrieked.

  “Well, the undead are definitely here and they weren’t on my guest list. These creatures don’t abide by normal rules. They are deadly assassins who’ll keep coming until they have achieved their goal. The only way to kill them is to sever the head. Nothing else will work. But for us to do that, we need to be able to see them. Now would be a good time to use your unique gifts to get rid of this infernal mist!” Roman hollered.

  “You think I haven’t already tried?” Isabella replied.

  The prince switched his gaze between the women and the battlefield, obviously weighing up the odds. Ella tilted her head, calling out for the spirits to help to disperse the fog that blanketed the ground.

  “You need to leave. There’s too many of them,” Roman shouted. He nodded at one of his guards. The vampire grabbed hold of Isabella’s arm, but she struggled in protest.

  “I’m not leaving. You can’t ask me to, Roman. This is my fight too. This is our wedding.”

  Roman kissed her on the lips and without another word, Isabella vanished, along with the guard. The prince flicked his gaze over at Ella. “Don’t look at me like that. After all, she’s hardly dressed for a fight, and the creatures have weapons that destroy our kind. You shouldn’t be here either, not in your condition, but I suspect you would protest as much as Isabella. Fortunately for you, I have no authority where you’re concerned. But tread carefully, my feroce guerriero.”

  Ella heard his words, unsure what the last couple meant. She wanted to ask him, but he vanished. As the mist thinned, the scene of utter destruction swirled around in the wake of the creatures. Gone were the rows of neat chairs, which now lay ripped to pieces alongside trampled flowers mixed with bloodied victims moaning and groaning. Weaving her way through the ruins, she placed her hands on those needing help, using her healing energy to heal their wounds.

  One lone monster limped toward her and Ella drew out her second knife secured on her left ankle. She ran at the decomposing woman whose gray skin peeled away from her body. Raw bunches of muscle and tissue lay exposed under her corroded armor. This time, Ella aimed at the head, but the overpowering stench distracted her, and Ella glanced away just as her attacker’s blade struck her side. Heat and pain swirled in her veins and she screamed, but she pushed on, forcing herself into action. Swinging around, she kicked at the monster, shoving the woman away. Ella charged, slicing at the creature’s arms and legs. The corpse twisted right and left before dropping to the ground, giving an ugly squawk. As lightning flashed across the sky, she grabbed hold of the woman’s head and twisted it like the vampire had done. The neck broke with a clear snap. Using her power, she decapitated her opponent, ending the fight. Heaving and panting, she clamped her hand on the wound on her side as a shadowy figure ran toward her. Too weak to fight, she slumped just as a pair of strong arms caught her.

  “You’re hurt.” Marcus held her tight.

  Relaxing into his side, Ella pushed away the pain, and examined his dirty face. Gone was the black tailored jacket, and blood covered his torn white shirt. Having difficulty focusing, she shook her head to stay awake. This battle might be over, but it wasn’t the end, not until the Morrigan lay dead. She was responsible for this attack—she was certain.

  “Where’s Steel and the others?” Ella asked.

  The cries from the injured and the monsters sounded less urgent now as her husband rushed with her in his arms. Her consciousness slipped in and out. The surroundings blurred to a hazy gray.

  “Stop worrying about everyone else, Ella. Focus on yourself for once. You’re still bleeding!”

  “Being pregnant, my powers are not the same. I’ll be fine. It’s just a scratch. I’ve been through worse.”

  As Gwendoline and Lady Elizabeth Dempsey, she had suffered one torture after another. Now that they were mated, they were immortal, and her injuries would heal eventually. Drifting to the past, the boyish face of the vampire Gabriel surfaced again. She pushed Marcus, jerking forward to search the crowd.

  “Where is he?”

  “Ella, let me get you to the doctor. She needs to treat these cuts.”

  Unable to simply wait, she wriggled to break free until eventually, he released her and let her stand, but kept his arm around her waist. She leaned into him, determined to seek the vampire out. “He’s here, Marcus. That blood-sucking traitor. The one who betrayed our kind.”

  “Who?”

  Ella clutched his arm because her strength would not last long as she eyed every shadowy figure, seeking the vampire. Discussing the past with Marcus had not been easy. The memories were too painful for either of them, but she knew as she stood here that the past was reaching out to her.

  “Gabriel—he’s back.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  The wounded were being tended to by members from the coven in a makeshift hospital in the drawing room, their injuries, cuts and bruises. However, there were twenty fatalities. Most of the dead at this point were identified as witches. The number of vampires killed was unclear as the remains had long since been carried away with the breeze. As the battle commenced, the vampires not caught up in the fight fled, leaving Roman and his men alone.

  Marcus paced around the elegant living room, running his hand through his hair, which stood up at odd angles. “How the fuck did these creatures get access to your estate? You assured us wards had been positioned to make this an impenetrable fortress!” Marcus barked at the witch, making her jump and scowl.

  “Shouting will not help, Drayton. I’m as vexed as you are, and I’m fully aware the responsibility is laid at my feet. So, I checked the wards. After all, I had been the one to gather the necessary materials for the protection spell with Raine. For added protection, I placed guards at the four points on the island where the wards were placed. But it wasn’t enough. The guards at each place were dead. All of them murdered—by vampires. So, I have to ask in return, how is that pos
sible?”

  Roman shook his head. He pressed his fingers, digging them into his temple and frowning at him. The vampire held his hand up to silence his disgruntled guards, who hissed at the obvious implication. Lucius hissed and bared his teeth. Roman shoved the vampire back, only for him to flee to the farthest side of the room.

  “There’s no way my family is involved in this massacre. That’s ridiculous. The vampires have no reason to strike at the witches. And in case you missed the piles of ash scattered on the ground, we lost family members here too. Besides…it’s against the law of our kind to kill our own without sanction. It’s treachery and punishable by death.” He swiveled around to face Lucius, who was caught up examining his shoes. “Justice will be swift for those involved, I assure you. But I need more than your words. I need proof.”

  Zephra pounced on the prince of vampires, grabbing his shirt. As his guards closed in, a circle of flames surrounded the witch.

  “I’m fine. She is distraught, as we all are. Zephra, calm down. This will not help matters,” Roman said.

  The guards remained stationed close to their leader, and Marcus moved in between the vamp and the witch. “We need to examine all the facts. Pointing the finger at each other only suits our enemy,” Marcus said.

  The flames surrounding Zephra vanished. The witch backed away, nodding at him, but kept her gaze zeroed in on the vampire. “We knew having the wedding would be risky, but the wards were designed to protect those who gained entry. Once they were removed, the door lay open. Only someone already here could have disarmed them and killed the guards. Which means we have an enemy in our midst.” Zephra glanced around.

  Only a handful gathered in the great parlor, a splendid round room painted in the softest of lilacs with ornate gilt furniture, hand-woven rugs, and an enormous crystal chandelier adding to the grandeur of their surroundings. Marcus helped himself to a stiff drink as they discussed the attack and the possibility of a traitor. Outside, the rain tapped against the windows and the old panes of glass rattled with the wind. A darkness had descended, adding to the foul mood inside.