Excerpt

“Help me.” The soft plea clung to her lips. She seemed a ghost among the night she was barely even there. A pale hand reached out to him in the darkness. Her eyes begged him to rescue her. He reached out to her in the shadows, but every time he tried to grab hold and save her, she eluded him.

Frustration swallowed him. “Tell me how,” he asked. He stepped forward and she floated back. Her form was surrounded by an eerie glow.

“Help me,” she would whisper again.

He would step forward again, and this time grasp onto her hand. However, he couldn’t hold onto it. Her touch burned him. Not form fire, but from pure cold. By the time he shook the pain off, she had disappeared and he was left staring at an empty dark expanse where not even the moon or stars shined…

Jet stirred from his feathers. He hadn’t realized that he had fallen asleep. He was stiff from being perched in the same tree for hours. He was supposed to be watching over his charge, Laten. His charge was a sixteen-year-old kid who had a talent for making things move all by themselves. He was a telekinetic. He had an inborn ability to fly dishes around, bend spoons, and play horrible pranks on his parents. They had moved several times because they thought their houses were haunted, but finally Laten confessed that he was the culprit behind all of the activity. Jet had been assigned to watch over him when the boy was only a toddler and his abilities were manifesting. Fourteen years later, the boy still had no idea that he was being protected from the things that went bump in the night. For the past six months, Jet and the other Raven Warriors had been pulling double duty, keeping a trained eye out for Shadows, assassins. They were a group of murderers who had recently formed and wanted all magickal humans dead. That also included psychic one, like Laten.

The Shadows were originally formed by Betha, the now dead Banshee Queen, and the woman Caleb, their leader, had sacrificed himself for into becoming a Raven. She had seen what magick had done to her daughter and herself. Over the five thousand years she was a banshee, Betha had gone crazy until Caleb was forced to kill her. But in the last few months of her existence, her hatred for humans possessing magick had mushroomed and her followers emerged calling themselves, the Shadows vowing to carry on her wishes to not let magick back into the human world. By achieving that, the assassins were killing any mortals they sensed were a threat.

In the last months, the Ravens had been weathering a great storm. Their once carefree furloughs as mortal men during the three days and nights of the full moon had become tense. All of the Warriors kept their eyes trained on the shadows being ever watchful. In the past few months, they had killed a dozen or so would be assassins all whom had tried to kill innocent humans because they possessed a spark of power. Several of those Shadows had come directly after their charges. One had been brazen enough to try and attack Whitney and Nicolas, the twins born from Tremain and Linnea, a freed Raven Warrior and his heartmate, who was a powerful witch. The Shadow hadn’t made it past their front door before Linnea’s magick had trapped him and Tremain had used his silver blade to run him through. Jet had fought with his Raven brethren. Now eyes were ever on the watch so he could alert the others if there was danger.

Chapter One

Jet watched from the treetops as his charge snickered at some teenage girls who walked by. They were at the mall. Jet knew it was a place for people to shop and socialize, but deep down he thought the groupings of stores and food markets under a concrete roof was overestimated. He grew up buying wares in the open. He didn’t understand how humans could spend outrageous sums of money on a pair of shoes or jeans they would discard later when they were out of fashion. His charge was no different. Dexter’s family was well off and gave their only child whatever he desired. Granted they weren’t sure how to handle his unusual “talent” so they over compensated with lavish gifts using them as bargaining chips for him to get good grades and try and be normal. It didn’t work. Dexter constantly got into trouble at school. He picked fights. He was smart, but didn’t excel and he used his telekinetic gift to get his way, frighten people, and steal things. Jet wanted to step in so many times and give his charge a stern talking to, but he wasn’t allowed. It was one of the rules of the Brotherhood to never reveal themselves to their charges. There were exceptions, but most followed the creed. Jet tuned into his charges thoughts thought the link he shared with the boy. All Warriors were telepathically linked to those they protected so they could sense danger through their charges. It also allowed them to know exactly where there charges were at all times. He narrowed his eyes.

Dexter was thinking of his other favorite pastime. What would the red head who passed by him look like naked. Jet cawed in frustration. He didn’t not need his mind filled with adolescent fantasies of breasts and whatever else Dexter wanted to do. The Raven Warrior had survived for over a thousand years in feathers. And that entailed being bound to the goddess Izamai he served, being mortal forty-two days out of three hundred and sixty five. The three days of the full moon and the eight major pagan holidays. A couple of days would be Samhain, Halloween, and he could stretch his wings and wake among humanity without being hindered by feathery costume. Jet looked forward to the same reprieve before the moon would be full in two and a half weeks. Unlike his other brothers, Jet did not think of his existence as s curse. He found it a great joy. Caleb, their now Council Leader, had given his soul in exchange for the woman he loved back at the fall of Atlantis sealing a deal with an ancient Death goddess to bring his love back to life and give him immortality so he would be with her. The goddess, excepted the offer, pulling Caleb into her service as one of her thirteen sacred Ravens. So Caleb became the first of the flock. The curse surveyed over time. Every culture had a death goddess or a Raven Mistress. She was called up on when women were ravaged and needed to be avenged. Then they called down the curse on their men. Other in his flock had not been cursed by a woman. His beautiful wife died. The world stopped for him that day. When she breathed her last breath so did he. The rest of his family told him to mourn and then find another wide. But the others didn’t understand. She was a beautiful lotus who withered departing the garden of life. He was enraged at first and then sadness took him. That was when he opened himself to darkness. He didn’t eat and barely slept. The world was dull, black and white to his eyes. Dark spirits began to torment him. Told him that if he listened to them then he could have his wife back, but he would have to give up his soul and join them. Before long he began to listen more to their whispers. The dark shadows began to take on the shape of his wife. They spoke of things they wanted to do to him of pleasurable things. Jet even allowed them to touch him. Play with him until they always left him wanting. Soon he knew the only way to be with his wife to give in. If he did that then they would allow him to spend eternity with his love. So one night while he wasn’t being watched by the concerned members of his family, he snuck out into the forest with his sword and dagger ktami and went to meet his wife. The spirit drew him to a dark and dank part of the land where the water was stagnant and fungus grew on everything. The sprit of his wife stopped before a small cavern in the land telling him it was there he must spill his blood. He kneeled down, said a prayer, and positioned the dagger so it would slip into his belly. The sprit encouraged him. Once he did this, they would be together. His hands gripped the hilt. His wife’s cold breath whispered along his neck creeping across the flesh like dead fingers.

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