Page 1 of Witch's Moon
Chapter 1
“Don’t go out there.”
At Lola’s words, Regan paused, her hand stretched out to open the door. She turned around. Her sisters, Catrin and Lola, hovered by the kitchen table.
“Why? Have you seen something?” she asked.
Lola often had visions of the future, and they invariably came true. “No. But it’s dinnertime, and I’m starving.”
Regan shook her head. Her baby sister, Lola, was nineteen and always hungry. She almost gave in, but something nagged at her mind, urging her out into the night, and beside her, Satan and Diablo, her hounds, whined and scratched at the door.
Ignoring Lola’s exaggerated sigh, she turned back, reached out her hand, and opened the door. The dogs pushed past her, out into the open, then stood, bodies trembling, muzzles raised.
She went still.
Enchantment filled the air.
Regan sensed it calling to her as she stood in the open doorway, staring out into the forest. The breeze carried the whisper of her name, and the night throbbed with the hum of a magic she’d never encountered before. It shivered over her skin, and a tremor of anticipation ran through her, coiling in her belly, tensing her muscles.
“Regan?”
She ignored Catrin’s question as she stepped out onto the porch.
The sky was clear, filled with stars, and a sickle moon hung high overhead. A light wind rustled the leaves in the thick woods that surrounded the house, and in the distance, a dog howled. Satan and Diablo pricked their ears, and she laid a hand on each huge head, murmuring soothing words. The howl came again. Her hounds shook her off and stalked into the forest. Regan followed, a frisson of energy quivering along her nerves as she stepped under the cover of the massive oak trees.
The ground was soft under her feet, the air heavy with the scent of growing things. These woods were ancient, maintained by a magic even older than Regan. Normally, she felt at one with them, and her own magic gained strength from being here, but tonight, something was different.
She quickened her pace as she followed Diablo and Satan through the shadowed forest. They broke into a lope and were soon out of sight, but she didn’t turn back. The trees grew thicker, closer together. Regan could no longer even hear her hounds, but some inner sense kept her moving until the trees finally thinned and opened into a wide, circular clearing.
At the far side, a man lounged against the trunk of a huge oak, and she came to an abrupt halt. For a moment, Regan thought he hadn’t noticed her, then he glanced up and straightened.
She hadn’t encountered humans in the forest for many years, and she stepped closer, eyes narrowed. He was tall, taller than she was by at least six inches, dark-haired, dark-skinned, and a faint miasma of evil permeated the air around him. As she studied him, she realized he wasn’t human after all. At least not completely. Maybe once he had been, but no longer. His amber eyes glowed wild and feral, and a quiver ran down her spine.
Moonlight glinted on something he held in his hand—a crystal star twirling at the end of a silver chain.
“Regan?”
She glanced up at his face. A cruel smile curled his lips, but she felt no fear yet, just a deep curiosity. She nodded.
He laughed softly. “He told me you would come. I didn’t believe him, but here you are.”
“He?”
“An old”—he paused as if unsure of the right word—“lover of yours.”
Regan gritted her teeth as a wave of remembered pain washed through her. “I don’t have any old lovers,” she said. “They’re all dead.”
He shrugged. “Never mind—you’ll meet him again soon enough. My name is Ethan Stone.”
“So? What do you want?”
“You, of course.”
He appeared handsome enough, well-built, broad-shouldered and powerful, but there was something cold and repellent in his expression, and a shudder of disgust rippled across her skin. She allowed it to show on her face. “No, thank you. You’re really not my type.”
He laughed. “Don’t get me wrong.” His gaze lingered on the swell of her full breasts so that Regan had to resist the urge to pull her jacket closer around her. “Under other circumstances I could be tempted, but even if I did want you, you’re not for me. In fact, I was told I’d have my heart ripped out if I touched you that way.” He paused. “Not that I don’t mean to touch you.”
“What makes you think I’d let you anywhere near me?”
