Blood of the Sorceress. Maggie Shayne

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Blood of the Sorceress - Maggie Shayne


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       Praise for the novels of

       MAGGIE SHAYNE

      “Shayne crafts a convincing world, tweaking vampire legends just enough to draw fresh blood.”

      —Publishers Weekly on Demon’s Kiss

      “This story will have readers on the edge of their seats and begging for more.”

      —RT Book Reviews on Twilight Fulfilled

      “A tasty, tension-packed read”

      —Publishers Weekly on Thicker Than Water

      “Tense … frightening … a page-turner in the best sense”

      —RT Book Reviews on Colder Than Ice

      “Mystery and danger abound in Darker Than Midnight, a fast-paced, chilling thrill read that will keep readers turning the pages long after bedtime … Suspense, mystery, danger and passion—no one does them better than Maggie Shayne.”

      —Romance Reviews Today on Darker Than Midnight [winner of a Perfect 10 award]

      “Maggie Shayne is better than chocolate. She satisfies every wicked craving.”

      —New York Times bestselling author Suzanne Forster

      “Shayne’s haunting tale is intricately woven … A moving mix of high suspense and romance, this haunting Halloween thriller will propel readers to bolt their doors at night.”

      —Publishers Weekly on The Gingerbread Man

      “[A] gripping story of small-town secrets. The suspense will keep you guessing. The characters will steal your heart.”

      —New York Times bestselling author Lisa Gardner on The Gingerbread Man

      Kiss of the Shadow Man is a “crackerjack novel of romantic suspense”.

       —RT Book Reviews

      Also by Maggie Shayne

       The Portal

      DAUGHTER OF THE SPELLCASTER

      MARK OF THE WITCH

      LEGACY OF THE WITCH

       Secrets of Shadow Falls

      KISS ME, KILL ME

      KILL ME AGAIN

      KILLING ME SOFTLY

      BLOODLINE

      ANGEL’S PAIN

      LOVER’S BITE

      DEMON’S KISS

      Wings in the Night

      BLUE TWILIGHT

      BEFORE BLUE TWILIGHT

      EDGE OF TWILIGHT

      RUN FROM TWILIGHT

      EMBRACE THE TWILIGHT

      TWILIGHT HUNGER

      TWILIGHT VOWS

      BORN IN TWILIGHT

      BEYOND TWILIGHT

      TWILIGHT ILLUSIONS

      TWILIGHT MEMORIES

      TWILIGHT PHANTASIES

      DARKER THAN MIDNIGHT

      COLDER THAN ICE

      THICKER THAN WATER

      Blood of the Sorceress

      Maggie Shayne

       image www.millsandboon.co.uk

      In Loving Memory of

      Jane O’Connor

      A woman who soared above challenges

      that would have held most to the ground.

      Founder of the Central New York Romance Writers,

      which has since turned out more than a

      dozen authors and well over a hundred novels

      that might not otherwise even have been written, much

      less published. We love you, Jane.

      You led us to our careers and, more important,

      to each other. Thank you will never be enough.

      But thank you all the same.

       Prologue

       February 2, Imbolc

      Lilia was no angel. Lilia was a witch. Even though she was currently hovering between the worlds, watching over her beloved, waiting for the right time to manifest as a silvery-blond-haired, blue-eyed woman and save his life, she was still a witch. Had been for thirty-five-hundred years. Would be for as long as her soul lived on.

      She watched, awestruck, as her beautiful Demetrius flashed into existence fully formed, fully grown, completely naked. The Portal, the opening between dimensions through which he had escaped his Underworld prison, was in the cave behind a waterfall. He arrived in the physical world in a blaze of light, crouching on the stones near that cascade.

      Goddess, he was beautiful. She reached out as if to touch him. But she couldn’t. Not yet.

      He was the same as she remembered him. His body had been reconstituted just as it had once been, since his soul had been ripped away before he died, an unnatural perversion of the order of things. She wouldn’t get her own body back when she returned to earth to join him. Hers had been dashed against the rocky ground from a great height before her own soul had flown free. She would have to manifest a fresh new form when the time came. She’d glimpsed that new form in a vision, so different from her former body that it had shocked her.

      Oh, but look at him.

      He rose from his crouched position, looking around, blinking in confusion, and her heart ached. So long … it had been so long!

      He looked the same, and her heart twisted in her chest with a mingling of joy that she had come this far, was this close to success, and heartache that he was still out of reach. She hadn’t seen him since that bloody dawn in 1501 BC, in Babylon, when he’d murdered the King in defense of the woman he loved, the King’s harem slave: Lilia herself. When the quarters she shared with her two sisters were searched, the tools of their forbidden magic had been found and the three of them sentenced to be sacrificed to Marduk, chief god of the pantheon. Demetrius had been the King’s right hand, his friend. She never should have fallen in love with him. The cost had been so high.

      But she had loved him. She loved him still.

      The high priest Sindar had been in love, too—with the King, or so Lilia had always suspected—and so his wrath had been bitter. He’d used his own magic, dark magic, to strip Demetrius of his soul and banish him to a formless, sensory-deprived existence in an Underworld void—just after having Lilia and her sisters thrown from a cliff to the bloody rocks below.

      But he hadn’t counted on the power of the three Daughters of Ishtar. They’d refused to cross the Veil until they’d taken Demetrius’s stolen soul from the twisted holy man and split it among themselves for safekeeping. Indira and Magdalena had reincarnated lifetime after lifetime until the opportunity came to right the ancient wrong, while Lilia had remained in limbo, pulling their strings like a master puppeteer, awakening their memories, making them keep their vow to set things right.

      The newly reborn Demetrius pushed himself up from the ice-cold ground, rising slowly. Lilia saw the amulet


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