Read Online Coldstorm (Heart of a Vampire, Book 7) by Amber Kallyn - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Amber Kallyn
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Exerting control before it swept her away, Anca watched the afterimages of a fuzzy, dark haired woman—a vampire based on the aura remnants—sneak across the field. She entered a dilapidated farmhouse, the image superimposed over the burnt shell.
A taller man appeared, black hair, dusky skin, his aura one she'd seen earlier. He was clearer here, his magical imprint strong. So this was the Keeper of the Peace. Native American by the look. Now she understood the power of his aura.
Shaman.
The magic unfolding before her surged stronger. The scene changed. The thin layer of time continued to slip, showing her the more recent past.
Demons and other dark creatures lay in wait throughout the field. The house still stood, an oppressive structure black against the night.
Another female vampire came, panic and fury and hatred strong.
The earth spirits' magic dimmed. They could only show her fragments from this battle, when the farmhouse had burned.
Anca closed her eyes, breathing deep, ignoring the lingering stench of death and rot and decay.
Finally, the spirits released her. Instead of the soft, soothing feel she normally received, the magic remained agitated, restless.
And begging for help.
Anca glared at Matt. "Why has this place not been cleansed?"
He looked at her with confusion.
"Dark magic was spilled here, again and again. It's seeped into the earth, is slowly strangling the spirits of this place. Why has it not been cleansed?"
He shrugged. "Not my area of expertise. For that one, you should probably talk to the Keeper."
Yes.
The Keeper who was also a shaman.
He should know better.
CHAPTER FIVE
T he number of ghosts wandering aimlessly around the old farm churned Matt's gut. All those who'd lost their lives here for the rampaging of evil.
Anca continued to stare at the field and burnt farmhouse.
Though she couldn't possibly see the ghosts, he could have sworn he saw sympathy in her smoky blue eyes.
But he doubted it.
Only the frozen hearted worked for the Council. It's what the bastards required most from anyone trusted with their secrets. Cold, unquestioning loyalty.
He certainly didn't like finding out that the horrors of his past were stories told among the Council. And they claimed the Judges had acted on their own?
Doubtful.
Information that that would be well known through the Arcaine. Not even the Council could keep such things secret.
No.
It had to be an excuse, something told to new recruits. Perhaps as a boogeyman tale. The thought nearly made him laugh at the bitter irony.
Him. A boogeyman for the Council and its Judges?
But Anca believed the story. She certainly didn't condone the actions of the Judges, or Matt's Sire.
That was something, he guessed. Though he wasn't sure what, or even why he cared.
Anca brushed a few loose strands of long raven hair from her face, sighing as if some immense weight had settled over her. Her pink, bow-shaped lips moved silently. After a long moment, she headed back to the SUV. "All of this is too old. Besides, the magic overlaps. A great many evils were done here, over a long stretch of time."
They continued down the list of sites, another hour passing in futility. His earlier hopes of being done with all this soon were distant memories. Yet he found he didn't completely mind.
Anca laid her head back against the seat, her eyes closed. Shadows darkened beneath her eyes. She looked like she hadn't gotten much rest lately.
He sympathized, knowing the feeling well.
She'd seemed so confident at the start of this, but as he drove to the next site, she muttered, "They couldn't be shielding themselves could they?" Then she answered herself, "No. Not possible. No one can counteract magic from the Council."
He didn't know how to answer. And he didn't like the urges wakening inside him, wanting to offer her comfort and support. That's not what he was here for.
Besides, the prickly woman most likely wouldn't appreciate support from anyone.
The next
Exerting control before it swept her away, Anca watched the afterimages of a fuzzy, dark haired woman—a vampire based on the aura remnants—sneak across the field. She entered a dilapidated farmhouse, the image superimposed over the burnt shell.
A taller man appeared, black hair, dusky skin, his aura one she'd seen earlier. He was clearer here, his magical imprint strong. So this was the Keeper of the Peace. Native American by the look. Now she understood the power of his aura.
Shaman.
The magic unfolding before her surged stronger. The scene changed. The thin layer of time continued to slip, showing her the more recent past.
Demons and other dark creatures lay in wait throughout the field. The house still stood, an oppressive structure black against the night.
Another female vampire came, panic and fury and hatred strong.
The earth spirits' magic dimmed. They could only show her fragments from this battle, when the farmhouse had burned.
Anca closed her eyes, breathing deep, ignoring the lingering stench of death and rot and decay.
Finally, the spirits released her. Instead of the soft, soothing feel she normally received, the magic remained agitated, restless.
And begging for help.
Anca glared at Matt. "Why has this place not been cleansed?"
He looked at her with confusion.
"Dark magic was spilled here, again and again. It's seeped into the earth, is slowly strangling the spirits of this place. Why has it not been cleansed?"
He shrugged. "Not my area of expertise. For that one, you should probably talk to the Keeper."
Yes.
The Keeper who was also a shaman.
He should know better.
CHAPTER FIVE
T he number of ghosts wandering aimlessly around the old farm churned Matt's gut. All those who'd lost their lives here for the rampaging of evil.
Anca continued to stare at the field and burnt farmhouse.
Though she couldn't possibly see the ghosts, he could have sworn he saw sympathy in her smoky blue eyes.
But he doubted it.
Only the frozen hearted worked for the Council. It's what the bastards required most from anyone trusted with their secrets. Cold, unquestioning loyalty.
He certainly didn't like finding out that the horrors of his past were stories told among the Council. And they claimed the Judges had acted on their own?
Doubtful.
Information that that would be well known through the Arcaine. Not even the Council could keep such things secret.
No.
It had to be an excuse, something told to new recruits. Perhaps as a boogeyman tale. The thought nearly made him laugh at the bitter irony.
Him. A boogeyman for the Council and its Judges?
But Anca believed the story. She certainly didn't condone the actions of the Judges, or Matt's Sire.
That was something, he guessed. Though he wasn't sure what, or even why he cared.
Anca brushed a few loose strands of long raven hair from her face, sighing as if some immense weight had settled over her. Her pink, bow-shaped lips moved silently. After a long moment, she headed back to the SUV. "All of this is too old. Besides, the magic overlaps. A great many evils were done here, over a long stretch of time."
They continued down the list of sites, another hour passing in futility. His earlier hopes of being done with all this soon were distant memories. Yet he found he didn't completely mind.
Anca laid her head back against the seat, her eyes closed. Shadows darkened beneath her eyes. She looked like she hadn't gotten much rest lately.
He sympathized, knowing the feeling well.
She'd seemed so confident at the start of this, but as he drove to the next site, she muttered, "They couldn't be shielding themselves could they?" Then she answered herself, "No. Not possible. No one can counteract magic from the Council."
He didn't know how to answer. And he didn't like the urges wakening inside him, wanting to offer her comfort and support. That's not what he was here for.
Besides, the prickly woman most likely wouldn't appreciate support from anyone.
The next
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