Conjuring Destiny

Brides of Prophecy, Book 3

Book Cover: Conjuring Destiny

There’s more than a prophecy holding them together …
Famous rock star, Xochitl Leonine, has dreamt of a world with two moons where a black cloaked man beckons her. One Halloween night, she meets the mysterious stranger of her dreams… literally... and their shared dance becomes a rendezvous in a place of endless night.

Zareth Amotken has no idea how important Xochitl’s heavy metal band is to her. As an immortal sorcerer, he doesn’t care. He has one goal: to find the prophesied savior of his world. Her voice holds the power to bring back his world’s vanished sun.

Xochitl’s compassion urges her to help in any way she can. Yet learning the mysteries of her past causes conflict with her future in music. Her destiny in his world and her obligations to her band pull her in opposite directions. How can she long for one while the other is so dire?

As Zareth introduces her to his people and teaches her to control her powers, she aches for his enchanting kiss. Zareth tries to resist, for their passion will unleash serious consequences, both political and magical.

As the time to fulfill her destiny draws closer, she must choose between her heart, her duty, and her friends. The wrong choice could ruin everything.

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Zareth Amotken, high sorcerer of Aisthanesthai, wove through the crowd of jabbering mortals, his lip curled in scorn at their lack of magic. With such tepid fare, his hydra would starve if he remained too long in this desolate world. He could already feel his power dwindling. Disdain faded to unease at that prospect. Zareth quashed the debilitating emotion. He would secure Xochitl and be back in his own world tonight.

The mortals stepped warily to the side as he passed, either intimidated by his height or because they sensed that he was other. He wore a hooded cloak to conceal his luminescent hair, even though unnatural colored tresses swarmed his vision, he likely didn’t need to worry about anything except for his hands, which he kept in his pockets.

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Delgarias had been right. Locating Xochitl Leonine had been simple.

“She shines like a beacon,” the Keeper of the Prophecy had told him. “And she’ll smell like a banquet to your hydra. Even if she didn’t, she’d be easy to find.”

“Why is that?”

“She’s the lead singer of a world famous heavy metal band.They call themselves

Rage of Angels.”

Zareth had gaped at the faelin sorcerer in disbelief. “She’s a troubadour? The

bastard daughter of Mephistopheles and the princess of Medicia, the one who will save our world, is naught but a minstrel?”

“Think about it, Zareth. What else would she be given the words of the Prophecy?”

“‘With her triumphant roar...’” His eyes widened at the implication. “You can’t be

serious.”

“Has the prophecy ever lied?”

Now, here he stood, in a raucous earth realm tavern on the Spirit Feast—what the people here called Halloween—to at last lay eyes on the woman he’d been dream-summoning for the last four years.

As he wove through the costumed masses, he detected several non-human presences. One could be

Xochitl, though it was doubtful as the stage remained empty. Strengthening his shields, Zareth surveyed the crowd.

His breath caught when he glimpsed two dark-haired men. They were Mephistopheles’s fallen monsters.

Two millennia ago, the would-be god had created some metaphysical mutation, which morphed humans into blood drinking monsters with unnatural strength. They’d acted as his foot soldiers until they’d displeased him, forever banished to Earth, punished to live in a world free of magic.

Zareth couldn’t think of a worse punishment.

Eyeing the creatures, who the people here called vampires,he wondered if they had a connection with Xochitl. After all, she was Mephistopheles’s daughter. Zareth prayed they were only here for the music. He had no wish to interact with those abominations.

The lights dimmed and all went still as a vampire appeared on the stage. His fangs gleamed in the stage lights. The humans grinned in admiration, assuming the teeth were part of his costume.

“Welcome to the annual Mortuary Halloween bash!” the vampire shouted.“As many of you know, tonight’s honored guests got their start in my club. Some of you even saw them doing covers of Megadeth, Iron Maiden, and my personal favorite,Metal Church.”

The creature owned this establishment. Zareth ground his teeth in disgust.

“Despite landing a major record deal and recording two platinum albums, they’ve never forgotten us. Every Halloween, they perform a concert and all the proceeds go to a charitable cause. This year your cover charge and drinks will help homeless veterans.” The vampire spread his arms wide. “Without further ado, I present to you, Rage of Angels!”

Zareth felt her before she emerged.

Once again,Delgarias had been correct in his assertions. Xochitl’s radiant presence and effervescent power washed over him like a force that made his knuckles tighten.

He cursed her inwardly.

Foolish creature. Hadn’t her mother taught her to shield properly?

His hydra, a non-corporeal demon that gave him immortality, roiled with hunger

for her essence.

The audience erupted into a cacophony as Rage of Angels came into view.

His breath caught at his first sight of the savior of his world. Delicate and ethereal as any luminite, her fine-boned features and pearlescent skin made the humans around her seem coarse by comparison.

Her black and purple waist-length hair gleamed under the stage lights. Unbidden, his gaze swept across her firm, lush breasts and exquisitely curved hips, drinking in the sight of her like a man starved.

Lust, hot and immediate, surged through him in a relentless wave. Zareth clenched his fists and took a deep breath. That wasn’t what he was here for. She was an imperative means to a crucial end. Still, the intensity of his unexpected desire caught him off guard. He’d been too busy with his studies to crave female companionship often.

He shook his head. Maybe it had been too long since he’d shared pleasure with a woman?

So captivated with her beauty, he hadn’t taken notice of her costume. The full-

skirted black taffeta dress at first resembled a ball gown, but the lace veil on her head clarified its true purpose. Many of his people also wore such veils for the same occasion.

It was a wedding gown.

The realization gave him a twinge of unease.

Could her garb be an omen?

The foreboding dissolved into fury when she hugged the vampire. Zareth’s fists clenched in effort not to charge forward and tear her from the monster’s embrace.

A red haze obscured his vision even after the vampire left the stage and Xochitl

addressed her audience. Outrage kept him from hearing her words. What did she think she was doing, consorting with their sort? Protective rage coursed through him, making his shadow spell waver.

His hydra roared in protest. No! She is mine!

A memory froze him. He’d uttered those words in a dream-summoning mere years ago. Something had intruded upon Xochitl’s dream. Had it been a vampire?

Every fiber of his being longed to incinerate every blood drinker in sight. Only

the dangers of revealing himself stayed his hand.

The other vampires congregated at the base of the stage, scanning the crowd with narrowed, watchful eyes. They’d positioned guards.

Have they sensed me?

Zareth held his breath, poised to fight if necessary. So they meant to protect Xochitl and the others. A slight measure of his hostility waned, though his distrust remained.

Then music filled the air and banished all thoughts of the loathsome creatures.

Heavy metal was an explosion on the senses. The wailing guitars, throbbing bass, staccato drums, and the vocalist’s enraged screams evoked a primal life force within its listeners.

A force that had them thrashing and jumping with exhilaration... a force that woke his hydra. It spread its invisible form outward, opened its mouths, and fed. Zareth closed his eyes in pleasure,rejuvenated from his exhausting effort of coming through the portal to this world.

Zareth had heard electric guitars before, but never had he heard the instruments distorted and played in such a blistering style. Leaning forward in fascination, he tried to decide whether or not he liked this music. Either way, it had power.

An impossibly fast drum beat pounded through his consciousness. Whipping his attention to the source of the sound, Zareth studied the striking dark skinned girl playing the drums. This one held a glimmer of magic. Humans of that ilk were rare on Earth, descending from the time when mages, Faelin and luminites dwelled here until they were persecuted by non-magical humans. However, he was unsurprised that Xochitl and this woman had become friends. They must have sensed their kinship, as Zareth could.

Guitars joined the rhythm and he shifted his scrutiny to the other minstrels. The bass player also held power... and so did the guitarist. They all did.

“How in the realms?” he whispered, staring in shock.

For two of them to meet was probable, but four?

His speculation broke off as Xochitl’s voice permeated his consciousness. Rich and operatic, punctuated by bone chilling screams of rage, it was more than pleasing to his ears. Her voice was thick with power which imbued its listeners with pure, unadulterated emotion.

Zareth closed his eyes and pictured the people of Aisthanesthai hearing this voice, their passions renewed, their magic rejuvenated enough to bring forth the dawn of their salvation.

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