Showing posts with label monday mystical. Show all posts
Showing posts with label monday mystical. Show all posts
Sunday, January 25, 2026
Monday, January 19, 2026
🍾Monday's Mystical Magic, Morning's Menu, & Musical Melody🍾: Best of 2025
👀As the new year moves forward and 2025 is in the rear view mirror, it's time to choose my Best Reads of 2025. This post is for Monday's Mystical Magic, Morning's Menu, and Musical Melody's most viewed in 2025, some read, some not but all have made my TBR List.👀
Click on the title links to take you to the original posts. It's possible not all the original purchase links will still work, in those cases be sure to check the author's websites for latest purchasing details.
Monday's Mystical Magic Most Viewed 2025
10/27/25: Jurassic Measures by Davidson King
Monday Morning's Menu Most Viewed 2025
Monday's Musical Melody Most Viewed 2025
7/28/25: Five Gold Blings by Clare London
Sunday, January 4, 2026
Monday, December 29, 2025
🎅🎄Monday's Mystical Magic🎄🎅: His Accidental Christmas Omega by Ava Beringer
Summary:
Omega Holidays #1
A fire took everything…except my unborn child, due Christmas Day. When the alpha of my dreams temporarily takes me in, can I resist falling for him?
Hapless rookie FBI agent Shane Hawkins loves showing off his badge to impress to omegas. When he falls in love with a vulnerable omega on the news, he rushes to find a safe place for him. When a mix-up makes him responsible for Drew Darling and his unborn child, Shane has to become a stand-up alpha quick. Can he figure himself out before Drew and his baby leave forever?
Omega military widower Drew Darling’s house just burned down. Oh, and he’s eight months pregnant. With a baby due on Christmas day, he has no place to go and no one to turn to. FBI agent Shane Hawkins comes to his rescue, and Drew falls for him on day one. Shane’s irreverence grates on him, but there’s no denying Shane’s heart of gold, or the immediate animal attraction. Will Drew’s grief stop him from embracing a brand new love?
Can Shane sacrifice for a life of love? When the new year comes, will it be time for Drew- and his newborn- to go? Will the baby really arrive on Christmas day?
This book is about 37,000 words and has a HEA. 18+ readers only please! This book contains occasional strong language, MPREG/Omegaverse, and hot, spicy grownup stuff. The omegas are heating up and the alphas are very knotty boys.
This is only the second story in the author's Omega Holidays series I have had a chance to read and loved it just as much as the other, if not more actually. Perhaps it is just the Christmas element that put this above His Accidental Memorial Day Omega but I have loved them both.
As for Accidental Christmas Omega, this is a sweet and fun read, despite the heartache that puts Shane and Drew on the same journey. Drew, having lost almost everything is facing a lonely and long road ahead and Shane is a very brash, act before thinking things through FBI agent. When fate brings them together, the author provides a story of healing and discovery, with just the right blend of heart and romcom, making for a very enjoyable, emotional at times, entertaining read. Being Christmastime is just icing on the Christmas cookie that will put a smile on your face.
RATING:
1
DREW
A sound; Plunk. A whisper; Drew. Wake up.
“Not yet. Five more minutes, you drill sergeant,” I groaned. A laugh. Come on, I wanna get some of those tamales at the farmer’s market and they sell out early.
“Not yet.” Plunk. Drew! “Five more minutes, then we’ll get your special tamales.” Plunk. Drew! Wake up. He grinned and shook me. “Drew! Wake up!”
I shot up in bed, expecting darkness, instead hell was waiting at my door.
My neighbor Helga was under my window, throwing rocks and screaming frantically. The air was thick with smoke, billowing all around.
“My house is on fire,” I said out loud, dumbly. “Help!” I yelled, but the roar of the flames, trying to break through my door, swallowed my voice.
“Don’t open a door when there’s fire on the other side,” Jimmy used to say in his serious, soldier-y way. “When it gets more oxygen it’ll really go up.”
“I got it, I got it,” I would tease. “I promise not to get cooked in a house fire. Thanks, baby. I’m keeping that promise. But if I couldn’t go out the door, how did I get out?
I cradled my belly, big and round with my husband Jimmy’s baby, thirty-seven weeks along. I have to save our baby.
“The balcony.” I leapt out of bed, tripping on the sheets wrapped around my legs, uncoordinated because of my size and precious cargo. I paused a moment, grabbing Jimmy’s working parka and slinging it around my shoulders as I ran. Some nights I liked to put it in his spot and pretend he was still with me; luckily, I did it tonight.
I burst out of the French doors onto our balcony. Its view was nothing special, just the cul-de-sac in our quiet, sleepy little neighborhood in the hills beyond the state park. There was pandemonium in the street as my neighbors screamed and fires raged all around. I truly had woken up in hell.
A late season wildfire. The park rangers usually did an excellent controlled burn; what could have possibly happened to cause this? I had to get down from this balcony. I was low enough that if I jumped I would live, but it wasn’t gonna be pretty.
I had a choice to make. The heat cooked my back and more smoke poured out of my room as everything my husband and I had worked for went up in smoke. The fire ate through my door and crept up behind me.
Helga and a couple of my other neighbors gathered beneath my balcony.
“Drew, you have to jump! We’ll catch you! Jump, we have to get out of here!” Fire engines screamed in the background. Help was on the way, but how far were they? Not close enough. The fire finally ate away at the door and smoke poured out of the windows on my lower level.
“The fire’s eating through the house!” Helga yelled, hands cupped around her mouth. “The walls aren’t gonna hold!” My baby. With a final rub of my belly, I lifted a leg over the railing, then the other one. I held myself out over the open air, my heroic neighbors waiting for me with their arms outstretched. Gripping the railing for dear life, I slid down into a crouch. The railing groaned and heated up; it was starting to warp and melt; I didn’t have much time. I let my feet dangle, then slid off, still holding on. I went too fast, the angle nearly wrenching my shoulders out of their sockets when my arms were extended. My neighbors gathered below me.
“Drew, let go!” Helga called. I let go and fell…it felt like forever, but I was caught by four pairs of waiting arms. My ankle hit the ground at a bad angle and I rolled it, but the pain didn’t register. A fire engine roared up my street, calling for us to evacuate. My car was in my garage, already gone up in flames. Firefighters burst out of their engines and red-painted SUVs.
“In the truck, let’s go!” The closest fireman roared. He didn’t need to tell me twice. He jumped down to help me into the cab, his hands strong but caring. Everyone loaded in, slamming the doors. It was a tight squeeze, but the truck immediately did a three-point turn and raced out of our cul-de-sac.
“Who’s missing?” The driver, a muscular alpha woman, demanded.
“My wife,” One omega man piped up.
“My son and my dog.” Another voice said.
The firewoman got on her com. “Echo, we’ve got at least three missing. Woman, man, dog. Stand by for addresses…”
“We’re taking everyone straight to the hospital.” The fireman said, with the kind of authoritative voice that put you at ease. “Don’t worry. You’re safe now. I’m Jamison and this is Kelly with Primrose Keep Fire and Rescue, and we’ll be taking good care of you.” He turned to me. “Sir, are you hurt?”
I blinked stupidly. “I, um…yes?”
“Kel, radio it in. Pregnant omega male incoming, priority…” He started talking again, but it was like I was walking down a tunnel and couldn’t hear him. “Sir? Sir?”
“I think he’s in shock, Jamie.” The sound was far away. All the voices faded. I turned my head to look behind me. The last thing I saw was the home I shared with my deceased husband being swallowed by raging red flames.
Everything went black.
A few hours later, I woke up in the hospital under a mountain of pain, hacking and coughing from my battered lungs. The white lights were too bright and the sterile smell irritated my nose. My ankle throbbed and my shoulders were killing me, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the black hole inside my gut.
Knock, knock. A woman’s head poked into my emergency bay. The curtain hissed as she pulled it back.
“Mr. Darling, I’m Dr. White. I’m glad to see you awake and alert.” I tried to speak, but my voice wouldn’t come. I could only stare at her face, haggard from the frenzied rush and lack of sleep.
She took a step inside. “You’ve got a sprained ankle, but it isn’t broken. You suffered mild smoke inhalation. Other than that, a few scrapes and bruises-”
I found my voice then. “My baby?” My throat was raw and sore from the smoke. She offered a soft smile.
“Initial signs say perfectly healthy.” I let out a long, whistling breath from my inflamed lungs and laid my head back on the bed. The most important thing was safe. My precious child, healthy and whole. “We called your emergency contact; your grandmother in Augusta, Georgia, correct? Do you have any relatives or friends you can spend the night with?”
“No.” All I had was Jimmy and he was gone. I lifted my arm. His coat was still on me, but it was torn, singed, and streaked with smoke.
I broke down and wept again, but this time with an audience.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Darling. Truly, I am.” She patted my hand, and in that moment her genuine sympathy made me angry, because what was I supposed to do with it? Was it going to fix my ruined life? “We’ll be able to discharge you soon. Survivors like yourself are generally being sent to the Omega Center, and if not there than to one of the center’s trusted host families. You’ll be safe and warm and get good food and adequate care for your baby. It’s a safe place to start to make sense of all this.” There is no sense to this, I wanted to say, but all I could do was cry harder. The doctor set a box of tissue down by my side and tucked a couple in my hand.
“Zach Morrey’s on his way. He runs the center and as my kids would say, he’s the chillest guy I’ve ever met. You’re in good hands with him, you’ll see.” After another couple of arm rubs, she took her leave, probably to take care of the next wretch who’d lost everything tonight.
The baby stretched out inside me, turning my belly into a funny oblong shape, more like an oval. I let myself smile and ran my hand over the little bulge that I took to be their hand.
“Not everything,” I whispered. “I have the most important thing.”
Knock, knock. I jerked my head up. There was a man in the doorway; an omega with a backwards PK Thorns snapback and blond hair that reached the nape of his neck, wearing a t-shirt with the collar cut out. He was broad-shouldered and had some muscle on him, and along with a relaxed half-grin, looked more like a guy I’d see on a skateboard riding along the beach.
“Mr. Darling?” I nodded and he took a slow step into the room. “I’d ask you how it’s going, but that’d be a pretty dumb question, huh, man?” I snorted a bitter laugh. “I’m Zach from the Omega Center. We’re gonna get you down there and get you some hot food and rest. How’s that sound?” He smiled like he didn’t have a care in the world, one of his front teeth slightly overlapping the other, and I wanted to escape into that world. He held a hand out for me and I took it. He treated me carefully and gently, and I wondered how many times he’d done something like this, and for how many years.
It was a short drive to the center as we were already downtown. Smoke smothered the city like a sinister brownish-gray blanket. The building was nothing special, just an older seventies-era elementary school that had been repurposed. It was the energy that hung over it that bothered me.
Inside, I was greeted by misery and grief.
“I didn’t know the fire took so many homes,” I whispered.
Zach nodded as he led me through the cafeteria. “Yeah. Too many families suffering tonight.” It was mostly omegas and tons of children, but a few alphas were sprinkled here and there, huddling with their families. So many empty eyes stared back at me as I checked out the scene.
“Can I get a hot plate out here, boss?” Zach called into the doorway, like he wasn’t the boss. Food. My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten in ages. Zach chuckled. “Two plates.” Zach took the plates of what smelled like pasta from the cook and carried them for me.
“Why don’t we go straight to your room so you can have a little more quiet time?”
“That would be great, thank you.” The sadness, the weeping, and the boisterous kids were frying my nervous system after I’d already been traumatized. There was a massive Christmas tree, maybe twenty feet tall, in the corner of the cafeteria.
“Just put that up yesterday.”
“It’s nice.” It was a beacon of hope for me, a bright spot in all the gloom.
“Perfect timing, then. I’m gonna have you in a room with three other pregnant omegas. I apologize for having to squeeze you in like this.”
“I’m just happy to have food and a place to sleep. I can’t thank you enough, Zach.”
Zach shrugged, the half-smile on his face. “I’m just a guy who wants to help. I’m looking for host families and I’m prioritizing pregnant omegas and those with little babies. I’m hoping to get you someplace where you can be at ease real soon.” He stacked a plate on his wrist like a waiter, so he’d have a hand free, and opened a door into what probably used to be an office. There were four beds crammed inside. A pregnant woman was sleeping with her back to the door and the other two beds were empty, those omegas probably in the cafeteria. Zach set my plates down on a little side table and straightened up to leave, giving me a little smile.
I didn’t know why, but suddenly I was hugging Zach. He didn’t act surprised, just held me for a long time. I sniffled and a few tears fell, but I pulled myself together when the baby moved and the smell of lasagna and garlic bread called my name.
Zach left to go run other parts of the center and I inhaled both plates of food, trying to keep my lip-smacking and fork-scraping quiet.
Belly full, I laid down and rested a hand on my side. Grief, misery, shock, and terror for what the future held for me and my unborn child overtook me. I wept again, big, sopping tears that stained my clothes. My sore chest shook and an ugly whine snuck out of my mouth. “I have my baby. I have my baby,” I chanted. I curled up around my belly, determined to protect them from any harm that could befall them. “We’ll be alright. Me and you, we’ll be alright.”
I wrapped Jimmy’s coat around me tighter and cried myself to sleep.
Ava Beringer is a major-league nerd who started off writing fanfiction and fell in love with mpreg and omegaverse. She loves to heat up a slick omega and a knotty alpha. By day she’s a good thirty-something midwestern girl, but she has a dark side. Okay, not really. She’s as bubbly as champagne but she can be pretty darn cheeky when you get her going.
She’s a digital nomad who’s traveled to thirty-five countries and counting. If she’s lucky, a cat will adopt her along the way.
Pick up your FREE SHORT STORIES, hear about her new releases and misadventures here, and tell her about yours! ❤
His Accidental Christmas Omega #1
Omega Holidays Series
Sunday, November 16, 2025
Monday, November 10, 2025
Monday's Mystical Magic: Twisted Tome by Vanora Lawless
Devastating Magic #2
A stubborn empath. A passionate dreamwalker. A love worth fighting for.
For empathic illusionist Warren 'Sully' Sullivan dreamwalking Captain Elliot Stone is more than the only thing keeping him sane and safe. He's the keeper of Sully's heart, even if he can't seem to admit it out loud.
When an ancient grimoire infused with catastrophic magic comes into play, they've got to do everything in their power to keep it from landing in enemy hands. Unfortunately, that means working closely with a man who once shattered Elliot's heart. Someone he would have done anything for.
As insecurity and fear threaten the fledgling relationship between Elliot and Sully, will the darkness closing in around them bring them closer or tear them apart forever?
Once again I find myself rushed to write the review I really want to. I will say, I was happy to return to this historical fantasy, or perhaps alternative timeline where certain paranormal behavior/elements exist is wordier but more accurate. I'm always on the lookout for WW1/post-war stories in the LGBTQ genre so even though this is fantasy set in historical setting, Twisted Tome still called to me.
As it was with the first entry, Imperfect Illusions, I found the way those paranormal "powers" were used in the time of war incredibly intriguing. Opening with their use of "cloaking" their presence when faced with the enemy was the perfect way to remind me just how useful those abilities could be in wartime. The way the author continues to blend the two genres together is highly talented and entertaining.
Watching Sully & Elliot's relationship further deepen was heartwarming and realistic but also heart-hurting when they find themselves having to work with the man who left Elliot heartbroken. Hard to think of "realistic" when dealing with a fantasy/paranormal historical timeline but the author has done such a wonderful job in the world building, you can't help but forget sometimes that it isn't real. Throw in supporting characters who possess their own "powers" and you have an attention-grabbing read on your hands. With the introduction of the man from Elliot's past, we also get a glimpse into some backstory which, for me, further heightens my connection to the characters with the added element of personal drama without it slowing the story down.
I believe there is suppose to be a third entry in the Devastating Magic series but as this was originally released 2 years ago, I'm unsure on the release date but I know I'll be checking it out when it arrives.
CHAPTER ONE
May 4, 1918
Belgium
IN THE LAST BREATH of evening light, Elliot shoved Warren into a stable as the sound of boots in fast pursuit echoed outside. Startled horses snorted and stomped in their stalls. Elliot’s heart pounded loud in his ears alongside his heaving breaths. Hay crinkled underfoot, the musty scent of animal and decay heavy in the air.
Warren pressed close, his eyes dark and intent on Elliot’s. He guided Elliot back into a corner, his calloused hands rasping over Elliot’s cheeks, cupping his face. The door burst open, but Warren’s mouth only twitched into an irresistible smirk. Elliot’s gaze darted to it and he wet his own lips.
German soldiers flung open the doors, barking loud orders at each other. Elliot watched over Warren’s shoulder, his chest squeezing tight, fingers tensing over the pistol at his waist. He held his breath as a soldier approached, but the man’s gaze passed over the space they occupied without sign of alarm. Elliot exhaled slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible. Although he trusted Warren’s illusion to conceal sounds, there was no need to test it.
Around them, the noise of the search continued, but Elliot’s attention was recaptured by Warren’s shadowed gaze, full of adrenaline and edged with lust as he tipped his head up, lips parting in invitation.
A jolt of shocked arousal heated Elliot as Warren slid his hardening prick against Elliot’s thigh. He barely held back a groan as he ducked his head to kiss Warren, against his better judgement. The pressure and yield of Warren’s soft mouth was both pleasure and temptation; he couldn’t resist dipping his tongue inside, clutching Warren’s hips and dragging his body closer. This was the worst time, the worst place, and still Elliot couldn’t help himself. Need and desire had him in their implacable grasp, and Elliot had no intention of fighting when it was so much easier to give into the stroke of Warren’s tongue, the gentle pressure of his teeth against Elliot’s bottom lip.
Warren’s breathing hitched, and he rubbed slowly against Elliot’s own trapped, swollen cock. Molten pleasure consumed him. Elliot was half a second away from hauling Warren up to wrap his legs around Elliot’s waist when Warren tore his mouth free with a breathless chuckle.
Elliot’s pulse skyrocketed with delayed alarm, glancing past Warren to find the stable empty save the animals. “Christ,” he muttered.
Warren pressed his face into the curve of Elliot’s neck and shoulder, silent laughter wracking him. “Your face. Your eyes just—” He choked.
Served him right. “Yes, well, forgive me for a moment’s concern when I remembered what we were in the middle of and worried I’d distracted you,” Elliot said dryly. Which set Warren off once more. Elliot’s own amusement was difficult to conceal. “Whenever you’re finished.”
After a moment, Warren sobered and stepped back. “You are distracting, but I made you a promise. I’ll always keep you safe.”
Warmth flooded Elliot, and he had to look away.
“I showed them a quick illusion of us crawling out a window back there,” Warren said, gesturing to the back of the stable behind a big horse, made larger by the darkness. “They all took off around the building to give chase.”
“Come on,” Elliot said, taking Warren’s hand and leading him to the door. “We’d better get out of here while we have the opportunity.”
He didn’t have to ask Warren to conceal them as he cracked it open and checked the street. They’d been through this routine enough over the winter, rescuing key Belgian and French soldiers in occupied territory. They had it down pat.
By now his second in command, Lieutenant Bell—Bellona, as they called her—and the rest of their team would have Caporal Lucien D’aramitz stashed away at the safe house. LFB, a spy network they’d been working closely with, had provided it as a temporary gathering point before they made the return journey to their home base in Fienvillers. Hopefully the place would have hot water so they could finally get clean.
After a tense journey back to their well-concealed motorcycle, then an uneventful drive for which they were both grateful, Elliot and Warren arrived at the location they’d been directed to.
Climbing out of the sidecar, Warren grumbled under his breath, and Elliot tried not to look entertained. Warren still hated riding in one, but he didn’t particularly enjoy driving a motorcycle either. Elliot gave his shoulder a reassuring pat, and in the moonlight caught the roll of Warren’s eyes. He couldn’t keep a smile down.
“You’re lucky I like you,” Warren said, clearly trying for grumpy, but sounding much too fond.
Nodding, Elliot agreed. “I have been blessed.”
“Damn right.”
And because it was dark and no one was outside, Elliot stole a quick kiss before knocking on the door, inhaling the familiar enthralling scent of Warren. A warm surge of affection gathered in his chest, his lips tingling, as he forced a mild expression onto his face.
Bellona opened the door, her expression warm as she greeted them before settling into something serious. “We’ve got an issue we weren’t expecting, I’m afraid. I’m glad you’ve arrived. We only just found out about him ourselves.”
“Who, D’Aramitz? Was anyone injured?” Elliot asked quickly, stepping inside.
“No one was injured, come on. You’ll see.”
They found the team gathered around a man seated on a settee. His dark hair was long, stringy and unwashed, and his French army uniform had certainly seen better days. He looked as if he could use a hot shower, several meals, and a week’s sleep. His face was battered and bruised. Elliot suspected it wasn’t the only place he’d been hit considering how he cradled his ribs.
Kneeling before him was another French soldier Elliot didn’t recognize. His hair was a lighter shade of brown and he was much slimmer. Short too, with a young appearance and big eyes set over an upturned nose and thin mouth.
At their entrance, all heads had turned to Elliot and Warren. Caporal Remonet and Charbonneau, the two French army members of their team, had been talking with Lara Baudin, their LFB agent liaison. Hoffman was standing back from the group, and he nodded to Elliot and Warren.
“Thank goodness,” Lara said with genuine cheer. “We were starting to worry we might need to mount a second rescue. Bell was beside herself.”
Bellona narrowed her gaze at Lara from where she’d stopped beside Remonet. “I was no such thing.”
“Aw, you care about us,” Elliot said, relieved to see everyone in one piece.
“Obviously,” she said, her hands going to her hips.
Warren chuckled, and Bellona’s glare turned on him. He held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, don’t look at me. I know you’re not the panicking type. I’m sure Lara’s exaggerating.”
Bellona flushed and gestured as she made introductions. “Captain Stone, Corporal Sullivan, meet Caporal Lucien D’Aramitz, and Caporal Gabriel Auclair.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Elliot said. Warren’s gaze darted speculatively between the two men, D’Aramitz sitting and Auclair kneeling, which prompted Elliot to ask. “Weren’t we only expecting one?”
“We were,” Lara agreed, with a tinge of guilt in her expression. “Gabriel—Auclair,” she corrected, “is my cousin. He’s been searching for D’Aramitz for weeks. When your team took up his cause, I alerted him to get here as quickly as he could. I know what you’re going to say, I shouldn’t have compromised your mission, but there’s so much more happening here than your team was let in on.”
Hoffman crossed his arms, stance shifting from relaxed to suspicious. Beside him, Remonet’s eyebrows rose. Elliot couldn’t say he felt different, unease prickling the back of his neck.
“You could not have brought this to our attention before?” Charbonneau asked.
Auclair shot to his feet. “She was forced to make a judgement.” His French accent was strong, and his voice was painfully earnest. “It’s difficult when you have competing loyalty. We try to fight a war for our nations at the same time we fight to save the world from terrible evil.”
“What kind of evil?” Warren asked, sounding skeptical. He’d shifted closer to Elliot, nearly in front of him, as if planning to shield him if it all went sideways.
Auclair and D’Ararmitz shared a look that spoke of years of silent conversation. Auclair’s gaze seemed to linger on the half-healed gash that stretched along D’Aramitz’s right cheekbone. His mouth went tight, and his eyes widened, clearly pleading. D’Aramitz sighed.
“It is a very long story, but to make it less, my family has been guarding a dangerous artifact for centuries. As far as we know, it cannot be destroyed, only contained, and it is our duty to ensure that it is kept so. We have managed through kings and revolutions, and my brothers have done their best through this war, but six weeks ago I lost contact with all of them. Lara was able to get a friend to visit the vineyard to find out why, but her friend vanished.”
“I assume that’s what led you to leave your post?” Elliot asked, guessing, since they hadn’t been told any such thing.
Auclair stepped closer to him, glaring as D’Aramitz grimaced. “What should we have done? Let the world burn in exchange for two soldiers to remain in a never-ending battle?”
“Ça suffit, Gabriel,” D’Aramitz murmured, resting a gloved hand on his forearm. “We found the vineyard untouched, but my entire family gone, along with Gabriel’s. What we guard was gone as well and all that remained in its place was a coded message from one of my brothers. A hint at where to find him.”
“So how’d you get captured, but not him?” Warren asked, tilting his head from D’Aramitz to Auclair.
“I went to search the vineyard while D’Aramitz went to the hidden room only the guards can enter,” Auclair explained, his face pinching with pain. “I was looking for my sister. By the time I return to the main house, he was missing. There were signs of struggle. I didn’t know who had come for him, but he would not go willingly without me.”
D'Aramitz’s lips quirked in a lopsided little smile. “Of course not.”
Auclair nodded as if he’d been repeating the same thing to himself for ages, and hearing D’Aramitz confirm it was an immense relief. “It…” He seemed lost, staring into the middle distance. “It took some time for me to know what to do. Then I went to Lara for help, and she started her contacts working, put me to use on other tasks to occupy me so I didn’t go mad waiting. You cannot blame Lara for giving me this location.”
“What I don’t understand,” Elliot said, “is why on earth we were sent after a deserter in the first place. No offense. If you left your post without a trace, and this thing you guard is supposed to be a secret, I assume?”
“Yes,” D’Aramitz confirmed without hesitation.
“Then why are the French looking so hard for you?”
D’Aramitz scrubbed at his face with both hands, wincing when the movement reopened the scab on his cheek. Auclair dug in his pocket and handed him a clean handkerchief. “I’ve wondered as much since your soldiers took me out of confinement. They must know something, it is the only explanation. And my family’s secret in their hands would be just as damaging as in German ones. It cannot be allowed to…” He struggled with his words, and when he found them, generations of unbearable weight echoed in them. “To be used in this war or any other. Ever. Some magic is lost for good reason.”
Elliot glanced at Warren, who quickly answered his unspoken question. “He’s telling the truth. He’s terrified of it, whatever it is.”
“So should you all be. The Germans attempt for weeks to get information from me about the location, and I gave them only lies. Because no torture would be as horrifying as what the artifact can do in the wrong skilled hands.”
Auclair made a small sad sound as he looked at D’Aramitz, before returning his distressed gaze to Elliot. “Lara told me you have orders to return D’Aramitz to our government, and if you must, I will go as well. But…”
D’Aramitz took over the plea. “But we would do the world more good searching for my brother, to keep that insidious thing the secret it must remain.”
Elliot surveyed his team’s conflicted expressions. They all wanted this war to end, were sick of losing people, wanted to be home with their loved ones. But he knew each and every one of them. Not a single soul on his team would choose to give a government they understood to be often unscrupulous the kind of weapon that would endanger the world.
Except where did that leave them?
“Sullivan, you’re certain?” Elliot asked, thinking on his feet as he rolled out his tight shoulder muscles.
“Yeah, I’m sure. Neither of ’em show any sign of lying. And Auclair’s emotions are particularly loud and clear. I don’t think he could pull off a lie if he tried.” He was so attractive when he was confident and teasing. Even if the person he was teasing wasn’t Elliot.
D’Aramitz chuckled and Auclair huffed. Elliot rubbed the back of his neck, struggling with a course of action. His gut agreed with Warren, but how much could he safely risk to do the right thing?
“We cannot disobey direct orders,” he said, reluctantly. Auclair and D’Aramitz both tensed. Warren, Bellona, and Hoffman all started to protest, but Elliot continued to speak, only elevating his volume to be heard. “That said, we’ll all need rest to recuperate for the return journey. Are there enough rooms upstairs to go around, Lara?”
Confusion flitted across her face, joining disappointment. “Yes?”
“Excellent.” Elliot refocused on Auclair and D’Aramitz. “I trust the two of you will remain here for the night without any need for official supervision, and we’ll head out in the morning. In the meantime, perhaps we could find a first aid kit for D’Aramitz?”
“Unnecessary,” Auclair said, shifting to block anyone from coming close to D’Aramitz. Perhaps unwilling to believe they weren’t a threat. “I am a healer. Very low ability, but I can take care of his injuries.”
“Right, well, see you bright and early then.”
Vanora LawlessVanora Lawless is a bisexual genderfluid Canadian with ADHD and a passion for telling love stories set in magical or niche historical worlds. A graduate of Saint Mary’s University, Vanora has a B.A, majoring in psychology. As a Nova Scotian, loving long walks on the beach is practically a law, so Vanora takes every possible opportunity to explore the best sandy shores. In spare time between crafting new worlds and stories, Vanora can be found behind the lens of a camera or in a blanket burrito with a good book.
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