Arcane Awakenings Books Five and Six

Book 3: Arcane Awakenings Novella Series

by Shelley Russell Nolan

Genres: Contemporary Fantasy; Paranormal; Young Adult

Synopsis

Being different could lead to a death sentence.

In Divine Captive, Grace is mistakenly kidnapped for having psychic abilities. When her abductor discovers his error, she's forced to use her wits to ensure her survival. Faced with enemies with incredible powers, she soon realises she may not be as ordinary as she'd always believed.

Then in Spirit Unleashed, punished her entire life for not being psychic, her father's death reveals everything Rose believed is wrong. Now she must find a way to control her new-found abilities before those who have misjudged her force her to fulfil their diabolical plans.

In the exciting conclusion to the Arcane Awakenings Series, Grace and Rose have the odds stacked against them. Out-matched and out-numbered, they will have to fight for their lives. But will their burgeoning abilities lead them to victory or death?

Arcane Awakenings – a fast-paced paranormal fantasy novella series.

Release date: November 25, 2018

Print pages: 229

Sample

Divine Captive

Chapter One

I scanned the movies on display in the new release section, none of the titles catching my eye. Then I spotted a new edition of an old movie and smiled as I picked it up and turned to face Belinda.

She shook her head, hands on her hips. ‘Grace, you can’t be serious. You have made me sit through that movie a thousand times, and you have a copy at home.’

‘You’ve watched it with me ten times, tops, and this one is the director’s cut,’ I said. ‘It has never before released footage. Cut scenes and interviews with the cast.’ I scanned the back cover. ‘It even has a blooper reel. We have to watch it.’

Belinda gave a sigh. ‘Any chance we can just watch the new bits and not sit through the entire movie?’

I looked at her, not saying a word.

‘If we only watch the new bits, I’ll let you pick another movie,’ she said with a hopeful smile.

I continued to stare at her.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Fine. I will sit through the stupid movie one more time just so you can ogle Liam Devine.’

‘Not ogle. Worship. He plays a god in this one, remember? Which I must say is very apt casting. He is a god. A yummy and delicious god.’

Belinda shook her head. ‘I can’t believe you still like the guy. He hasn’t put out a new movie in years.’ 

‘Once a god, always a god.’

After yet another sigh and shake of her head, Belinda turned her attention to the rest of the movies. On our Friday night movie sessions, we got to pick one each. Seeing as she’d let me get away with choosing an old title, I didn’t complain when she picked up a sappy romantic comedy and started reading the back of it. I preferred action movies with lots of snappy dialogue and explosions. I’d have been more than happy to watch God Unleashed twice in a row, no matter that I probably had seen it a thousand times. 

Not just to ogle Liam, as Belinda had suggested. It was a good movie, with everything I liked. It was just made that bit better by having my favourite kind of eye candy in it.

‘He truly is divine,’ I said, staring at Liam Devine’s image on the front cover of the DVD case as Belinda continued to browse. 

‘According to the tabloids, the guy turned into a recluse after the stampede at the convention last year,’ said Belinda. ‘You’re never going to meet him if he doesn’t come out of whatever cave he’s hiding in.’

Belinda was right. He hadn’t been seen in public for months, and there’d even been talk he was in rehab somewhere, but I didn’t believe everything that was printed in the gossip magazines. Even if he hadn’t become reclusive, the chance of him showing up in Easton and falling madly in love with me were slim at best, but it never hurt to dream.

‘I’ll get to meet him in person one day. His last name is Devine. Too similar to D.I.V.I.N.E to be a coincidence. And my name is Grace. I’d be the perfect match for him.’

Belinda snorted. ‘Grace Devine does have a nice ring to it, I suppose.’ 

No sooner had she spoken than she stiffened, eyes going wide.

I clutched her arm, holding her steady as whatever vision she was having took over. I’d seen enough of these in the weeks since she’d moved back into the flat with me to know what was happening. As I continued to support her, I fished my phone out of my bag with my free hand, ready to call her boyfriend, Scott Carlton, so he could swing into action as soon as he had the details for whatever catastrophe was about to hit. 

After a long moment, the tension in Belinda’s body eased and she gave herself a shake. ‘It’s okay, you don’t need to call Scott.’ She pointed to my phone. ‘This vision was about you.’ Her brow furrowed.

‘Me?’ My voice squeaked, hoping it wasn’t bad news. But all of her visions dealt with one drama or another. My heart thudded in my chest.

‘Am I going to die?’

‘What? No. It wasn’t that type of vision. This one was different. Weird. Almost like I was watching a movie. One that starred you and Liam Devine.’

‘Is that right?’ Eyes narrowed, I crossed my arms and waited for her to tell me what she’d seen. I was surprised it’d taken her this long to come up with a “vision” to trick me. 

‘Like I said, it was weird. I got a glimpse of the two of you standing side by side, holding hands, wearing purple robes. You were addressing a bunch of people all dressed in white. They were kneeling in front of you. It looked like they were worshipping you both.’

‘Belle, that’s not nice. Teasing me like that. So what if I have a crush on a former movie star. It’s not like I have a handsome police officer to keep me warm at night, like you do. I’m allowed to dream about being swept off my feet, without you making fun of me, regardless of how far-fetched it might be.’

Her cheeks flushed. ‘I’m not making this up. I seriously saw you and Liam Devine, and it sure looked like you were being worshipped.’

I pulled on her arm, shaking my head. ‘Just hurry up and pick your movie, before I choose another one with Liam in it just to annoy you.’

Moments later she made her choice and we moved over to the front counter and waited for the attendant to scan our movies. After a quick stop to pick up our takeaway order from The Curry House, we headed home.

Scott called Belinda while we were halfway there, and I got to listen to their barely disguised love talk for the rest of the drive. Not that I begrudged her having a boyfriend. I just wished I wasn’t in earshot while they made up for spending a night apart.

This was the first movie night we’d had for some time, and it was only because Scott was off on assignment for the taskforce he was part of. I hadn’t been given all the details, but he’d been handpicked because of his involvement in the case where Belinda had been kidnapped by a crazy scientist who planned to use her ability to see the future for some nefarious business.

For a girl who claimed all she wanted to be was an artist, my best friend was doing a good job of turning into a super hero. As well as assisting the police in the search for the crazy Dr Frankel, she liaised with the taskforce via Scott, letting them know what she saw in her visions, so they could stop bad things from happening. Seeing as I had no psychic ability and was also not a police officer, she wasn’t authorised to share most of the details with me, but I’d heard enough to know freaky stuff had been happening in Easton over the past year. 

People infected with a weird virus had gone crazy, attacking people before collapsing and dying. After that there’d been a lockdown instituted while a private security force took to the streets when what was reported as gang rivalry got out of hand. I hadn’t paid much attention to the reports as it was just after the car accident that’d blinded Belinda, but I’d since heard rumours the gang situation was a cover-up for something more sinister. It was around that time when the taskforce Scott now worked for was created, so I wouldn’t be surprised to find out the rumours were true. 

With all that had happened, I was just glad Belinda’s involvement in the taskforce was being kept secret. Once the initial interest in her visions had died down, with no new leaks to the press, she had been able to work in the background, letting the police be in charge of that aspect. So, life was mostly back to normal for Belinda and me. She had returned to university to finish her Arts Degree, while I got to play with cute and cuddly animals in my job as a receptionist at a vet surgery.

By the time I pulled into the driveway of the small flat we shared Belinda had finished her conversation with Scott, and we settled down to eat our dinner and watch the first movie. I graciously let Belinda go first. She’d picked the romantic comedy, which I had to admit was pretty good. Not at all sappy like I thought it would be.

Then it was time for my movie, with explosions, car chases, and Liam Devine. Belinda didn’t complain while we watched it, though I caught her rolling her eyes a few times. Yes, it was weird having an action adventure with a pro-surfer who finds out he is actually a teenage god from another dimension. He turns out to be able to control water and has to use it in ingenious ways to fight off the bad guys intent on stopping him from returning to his home world. 

But hey, if I got to ogle Liam Devine then it was all good. Especially the scenes where he took off his shirt to display the toned muscles he was blessed with. With these, combined with his topaz eyes and shoulder length blond hair, he definitely looked the part of a surfer god. It helped that he surfed in real life, so he was able to do most of the stunts himself, as evidenced by the extra material Belinda sat through with me.

It had been a long week, with a number of late nights at the surgery, so by the time the final extra scene had played I was finding it hard to keep my eyes open. With matching yawns, Belinda and I headed off to bed. It felt like I had just closed my eyes when I was woken by a loud thump outside my bedroom window. It was accompanied by a low whuff noise, and I groaned.

‘Damn it, Harold. You better not be rummaging in our bin again.’

The neighbour’s dog, a huge beast that looked like a cross between a Wookie and a polar bear, made a habit of escaping his own yard and coming to play in ours. But his kind of play usually involved tipping our rubbish bin over and investigating the contents, leaving us with a backyard strewn with rubbish. 

I got out of bed and padded over to the window. But when I looked outside there was no sign of Harold, though the bin was on its side with rubbish bags spilling out from it.

I heaved a sigh, knowing I’d have to put the bags back in the bin and stand it up before the dog returned to finish the job. I stepped into the hall, looking toward Belinda’s room. There was no light showing under the door, so she must not have heard the bang. She often had disturbed nights, thanks to her visions, so I wouldn’t wake her for something as trivial as this.

I slipped out the back door and headed over to the bin to right it. I leaned down to grab the closest bag of rubbish, glad we used sturdy bin liners and tied the ends, so nothing would’ve fallen out. As I reached down to grab a second bag, a noise came from behind me.

Sure it was going to be Harold, I prepared to use my most gruff voice to send him packing as I turned around. He was a big lug, gentle as they came despite his hefty size. From experience I knew he would look at me with his big puppy dog eyes and try to wheedle his way out of trouble, but I had plenty of experience dealing with wayward canines.

Only it wasn’t a dog standing in front of me.

A tall figure, clothed head to toe in black, stared back at me, features in shadow. My heartbeat sped up as I struggled to figure out who he was and what he was doing there. He stepped closer, the light from the back door allowing me to see he was an older man with dark hair and eyes.

Before my brain had a chance to process his sudden appearance, he lunged forward and grabbed hold of my arm, pulling me toward him. I dropped the bag of rubbish and hit out at him even as I opened my mouth to scream. But he covered my mouth with a gloved hand, a cloth wadded up in his palm. A bitter scent wafted in the air, like the anaesthetic we used at work, and I held my breath when I realised the cloth was soaked in chloroform.

With my mouth and nose covered, I couldn’t take a breath without risking being rendered unconscious. But I wouldn’t be able to hold it for long. I wrenched my body sideways in an attempt to dislodge him. But he was strong, so much stronger than me. 

I kicked back at him, hitting his shin, wishing I was wearing boots so it could do more damage, but all he did was grunt and hold me even tighter. Head reeling, running out of oxygen, I made one last effort to get free. I jabbed him in the gut with my elbow, putting as much force as I could in the blow. 

It worked. His grip around my waist loosened. I ripped the hand with the cloth away from my mouth, sucking in a lungful of air ready to scream the place down.

He pointed at me and even though he wasn’t touching me my throat constricted, cutting off my scream. It felt as if I had his hands wrapped around my neck, but that didn’t make sense. He had to be doing something to me. The only sound I could make was a faint gurgle. He increased the pressure and my vision wavered. I spun around, movements jerky as I tried to get to the back door. 

I had to get inside. Lock him out.

My vision darkened as oxygen deprivation kicked in. I felt my body fall, dimly registering that whatever had gripped my throat had let go. But it was too late. Hands gripped my body and I was swung over a shoulder before falling into complete darkness.

 

Chapter Two

I came to, gasping in air as the memory of being strangled hit. 

I froze, hands halfway to my neck, and gaped at my surroundings. I was sitting in the middle of a huge four poster bed, purple velvet curtains trimmed in gold pulled back and tied to each post. Gauzy curtains were down, obscuring my view of the rest of the room, but what I could see was just as unfamiliar as the bed. 

Where the hell was I?

Heart pounding, breathing hard and fast, I thrust the curtain aside and climbed off the bed, head swivelling to take everything in as my feet sank into plush carpet. I ran my hands over my body, some of my panic easing at the discovery I was still wearing my pyjamas. I was also sporting a number of aches and pains. However I’d got here, it had left bruises. The worst was my throat. It hurt both inside and out from what my attacker had done to me. All without touching me. 

I sucked in a ragged breath, wincing as it burned on the way down. Whoever he was, he had psychic abilities like Belinda, who had been kidnapped twice because of it.

Dread pooled in the pit of my stomach at the thought the man who had kidnapped me could be working for Dr Frankel. Belinda had said he had a young guy working for him who could also see future events. I had only caught a brief glimpse of the man who attacked me, but he had to be in his mid-forties at least. So he couldn’t be the same guy who had been after Belinda.

Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t working for Dr Frankel. 

But, if that was the case, what did he want with me? I didn’t have psychic abilities.

Unless… He’d thought I was Belinda?

Relief swamped me, to be swiftly followed by horror. 

This new guy must have got me mixed up with her. 

I had to get out of there. Had to warn Belinda that Frankel was after her again.

I spotted a door on the other side of the room and ran toward it, feet making no sound in the thick grey carpet. I wrenched open the door and my eyes widened. It was a huge walk in wardrobe with one side filled with white dresses with long flowing sleeves. Hanging alongside the dresses were a number of dark purple velvet robes with gold trim around the collar and hem. On the floor below them sat ballet flats, the same colour as the robes, in various sizes. 

On the other side of the wardrobe were more robes and shoes, in larger sizes, and what looked like white pants and tunic styled tops. Definitely men’s clothing.

At the end of the wardrobe I could see a sliding door that was partially ajar, letting me glimpse white tiles and a basin. I stepped closer and slid the door fully open, finding a luxurious bathroom with a huge clawfoot tub sitting in pride of place, a glass walled shower cubicle and a toilet partially hidden behind a partition.

Head buzzing with everything I’d found, I headed back to the bedroom in search of a way out. My breathing was shallow, fast, and I fought to calm myself as I scanned the large room. There were no windows, the only light coming from bulbs set in heavy brass sconces on the walls.

There was another door on the opposite side of the room and I ran over to it, cursing when I found it was locked from the outside. There was no way out. I was stuck, at least until whoever kidnapped me came back and I could tell them they’d made a mistake. 

But what would they do, once they realised I wasn’t Belinda?

There was a spacious sitting area opposite the door, with a grey couch pushed against the wall and a dark mahogany coffee table in front of it. I shuffled over to the couch and sat down to watch the door, both willing it to open and dreading what would happen when it did. My gaze skimmed the objects on the coffee table, noting a tray in the middle with a water jug and two glasses set out on it. But it was the folded piece of paper in front of it that caught my attention.

The side facing me had a name written in neat handwriting on it.

My name.

Hands shaking, I picked up the piece of paper and unfolded it, staring in horror at the words written inside.

 

Clothes have been provided for you. Ensure you are dressed and ready for inspection when I return. Do not disappoint me. It will not end well for you should you choose not to do as I have requested.

 

I scrunched up the note and threw it on the ground, using anger to push back the panic threatening to overwhelm me.

Who the hell did he think he was? 

There was no way I was putting on any of the clothes he’d provided for me. 

No way.

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at the door, waiting for him to show his face so I could blast him, trying not to think about the fact it was my name on the piece of paper, or that I was sitting in what could be termed a luxurious jail cell; one that contained clothes for a man as well as a woman.

He hadn’t thought I was Belinda. He’d known who he was kidnapping.

But that made even less sense. 

I sat there for half an hour at least, unable to gauge the time without a watch or clock. Eventually my bladder demanded I move. When I came out of the bathroom, drying my hands on my pyjama pants as I walked back to the couch, I froze halfway there. 

The door was opening. 

I raced across the room, ready to escape this bizarre prison, only to screech to a halt when a figure dressed in white pants and a tunic top the same as what was hanging in the wardrobe entered the room. He slammed the door closed behind him, blocking it with his body.

Tall, with brown hair lightly tipped with grey, I wouldn’t have given him a second glance if I passed him in the street, except for the forbidding look in his hazel eyes as he glared at me. There was no doubt in my mind that this was the man who’d attacked me in my own backyard.

‘I told you to get dressed,’ he said, anger filling his voice. 

I tossed my hair over my shoulder and glared at him. ‘Who the hell are you? Why have you brought me here?’

He waved his hand and I was pushed backward, legs scrambling to keep me upright. After a few steps the backs of my knees rammed into the coffee table. I sank down onto it, head reeling as he crossed his arms in front of his chest and stood there staring at me.

‘Get dressed,’ he said.

Stamping down hard on my fear, I got to my feet, fists clenched at my sides, hoping he couldn't tell how much I was shaking. He’d pushed me back, without touching me. Just as he had practically strangled me the night before. As much as I hated to give in, I turned my back on him and hurried into the wardrobe, rummaging through the clothes on the left-hand side for a dress that was my size. I found a selection of white underwear on a shelf and hurriedly found some that would fit. Then I headed into the bathroom to change.

The bodice of the dress hugged my torso while the full skirt fell to the floor, swirling around my feet with each movement. There was a large mirror above the vanity and I stared at my reflection, not comfortable with the way the scooped neckline showed off my cleavage, or how the white of the dress contrasted with my tanned skin and long black hair. Hair that was a tangled mess. 

To delay the moment when I would have to face my kidnapper again, I hunted for a brush in the vanity drawers, and for something to tie my hair back with. Hands shaking, I found a brush, an unopened tube of toothpaste and a two pack of toothbrushes. I freshened up, but with no hair ties or pins I had to leave my hair down.

After one last glance in the mirror, sure the panic threatening to overwhelm me was visible in my grey eyes, I took a deep breath and left the false security of the bathroom. It was time to get answers. 

The man who’d kidnapped me stood in the same position as when I’d left, and he gave an approving nod when he saw me. 

‘Much better. Now you look the part. Although, when you leave this room you will wear the robe, and the matching shoes. You are not to appear in public without them.’

A shiver swept over me at his words about looking the part, legs threatening to fold beneath me. Had he brought me here to live out some sick fantasy of his?

I stiffened my spine, determined not to let him see how scared I was. ‘What do you want with me?’ My voice shook despite my effort to keep it steady.

‘There’s no need to be afraid, Grace. In time you will come to appreciate all that I offer you.’

‘You haven’t offered me anything. You kidnapped me.’ My hands went to my throat, vividly remembering how it felt to be strangled with ghostly fingers, to be pushed backward by a wave of his hand.

‘My name is Mark Davidson, and I apologise if my initial approach frightened you, but I couldn’t take the risk you would choose not to become part of the Order.’

’The Order?’

‘The Order of the Arcane. An organisation formed to protect people like you and me. Recent events in the world beyond this sanctuary have proved those of us with psychic abilities have become targets. The Order seeks to prevent that happening, which is where you come in. You, and Liam Devine, will become the face of the Order.’

I flung up my head, eyes wide. ‘What did you just say?’ 

‘It’s time those who would use our abilities for their own gain learn that we are the superior race. We are the ones who should be in charge. Once Liam arrives, we will begin our campaign to wrest control of the country from those who do not deserve to lead. The two of you will be our figureheads, the ones the public will come to revere and worship.’

I gulped down bile. 

Belinda’s vision of Liam and me, hand in hand, wearing purple robes while people dressed in white knelt before us.

Oh. My. Freaking. God.

‘You’re insane. I’m not going to be a figurehead for some lame religion.’ Shaking my head, I backed away from him. This could not be happening. 

‘It will happen. The seers have had visions of it. You will be the Goddess to Liam’s God. Together you and he will lead our Order to greatness.’

My body shook, and I wasn’t sure if it was from anger or shock. ‘I’m telling you, your seers are wrong. I don’t have a psychic ability. I’m just an ordinary girl.’ 

Mark clearly thought Liam Devine also had an ability, which had to be crazy. He was an actor. Former actor. But then, Belinda had been normal until her car accident. A lump appeared in my throat at the thought a new-found ability could explain Liam’s decision to quit acting and become a recluse.

‘Impossible. I saw you, at the video store, communicating silently with your cousin,’ said Mark, brow creasing.

Eyes wide, I pushed back the realisation that he’d been watching us. ‘We’ve been best friends as well as cousins our whole lives. We know each other so well we can hold entire conversations without words, but I’m not telepathic.’

He stepped closer and I tried to dodge, but he froze me in place with a wave of his hand. Body rigid, unable to move, tears of frustration leaked from my eyes as he grabbed hold of my head, his gaze boring into mine.

After a tense moment he let go and stepped back, shaking his head. ‘I knew I should have stuck to the original plan and taken your cousin. But after I heard her recount her vision to you, I changed my mind. She is, by all reports, a very powerful seer. Taking her vision into account, I acted accordingly.’

It took a moment for his words to sink in. Then it hit. He’d intended to kidnap Belinda, but her vision had made him change his mind and take me instead.

Cold sweat enveloped my body. 

He wasn’t going to let me go.

Unless I could convince him he was wrong. 

Even if I was successful in escaping, he might go after Belinda. She’d been his original target. She’d been through so much, terrified she was going to lose her eyes when Dr Frankel had her. I would not let Mark Davidson hurt her.

But how was I going to stop him?

 

Chapter Three

To buy time to think, I went on the attack.

‘That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. As if someone like you would ever be able to run the country. The authorities will send you packing the minute you try to take over.’ Hands on my hips, I shook my head. ‘You are clearly certifiably insane.’

His face went so red as he shook a fist in front of my face, I thought for sure he was going to hit me. But then he got himself under control and took a step back.

‘Our seers may not be as powerful as Belinda, but after I brought you here two of them inspected you and confirmed you would be the best mate for Liam. You must have a psychic ability. It just hasn’t awakened yet. For some people it takes a traumatic experience before their abilities manifest.’

I screwed up my mouth, squirming at the thought of his “seers” inspecting me while I was unconscious. ‘A traumatic experience, like being kidnapped by an idiot who bases his decisions on things he heard while eavesdropping?’

Face flushing once more, nostrils flaring, he loomed over me. ‘What’s done is done. You are to be Liam’s mate. With training, we will awaken your abilities. In the meantime, you are to tell no one that you do not possess an ability as yet.’

I tossed my head, glaring at him. ‘I’ll tell them. If you don’t let me go, I’ll tell every single one of them this is all a mistake, that you’re a fraud, and this Order of yours is bogus.’

He gave me a grim smile. ‘Once Liam arrives, if you truly do not have a latent ability he will be able to compel you to obey me. You will do anything he tells you to and believe it is your own will guiding you. You and he will usher in a Golden Age for the Order of the Arcane.’

‘You can usher in your own Golden Age. I don’t want anything to do with you or your Order.’ 

‘What you want is immaterial,’ he said, lips forming a smirk. ‘One way or the other you will be at Liam’s side as he tours the country, compelling all those without an ability to follow the Order. Anyone who is not psychic will fall at his feet, and once we have sufficient numbers we will be able to seize control. You should be glad to know that one day your children will be born into a world where they will be viewed as gods and will continue to build on our legacy.’

A day ago, the idea of having Liam’s babies might have filled me with glee. Now the thought he might have the ability to coerce me into doing whatever he wanted made my stomach churn. It was hard to fathom how my favourite movie star could be part of something like this, but the conviction in Mark’s voice put a dent in my scepticism.

But that didn’t mean I was going to sit there and let anyone, even Liam Devine, brainwash me into believing any of this was real. I had to escape, find Belinda, and keep her safe while Scott’s taskforce took care of Mark and his Order. I just hoped this was the kind of thing they were equipped to handle.

As these thoughts ran through my head I reached behind me for the jug of water, snatching it up and tossing it at Mark in one movement. He ducked to avoid getting hit in the face and I bolted for the door, hoping he had left it unlocked. A hard shove in the middle of my back sent me reeling. I slammed into the door, head connecting with the unyielding surface. Another shove pushed me sideways and I fell to my knees, vision blurring as legs appeared in front of me. 

A moment later I felt myself being lifted in the air, before bouncing down in the middle of the bed. A cloth with a familiar scent was placed over my face.

Dizzy, nausea bubbling away in my stomach, I was unable to stop myself from breathing in. My eyes closed as I dimly registered the removal of the cloth and the slamming of the door.

 

The pounding in my head pulled me back to reluctant consciousness, and I groaned as I rubbed my temples. My stomach recoiled at the thought of moving, so I lay there, waiting until the nausea had subsided enough for me to sit up.

With a bunch of new aches and pains riddling my body, I dragged myself to the door and discovered I was once again locked in.

Still lightheaded, I crossed over to the couch and sat down, leaning back with a soft groan. The jug of water I’d thrown at Mark was back on the coffee table, refilled. A wet patch of carpet showed where its previous contents had fallen. A plate with a dome shaped cover over it sat beside a thermos flask, a coffee mug, a sugar bowl and a milk jug. I lifted the cover off the plate to reveal a chicken and salad sandwich cut into four neat triangles, and my stomach rumbled. I hadn’t eaten since the takeaway curry the night before and had no idea how much time had passed since then.

I quickly demolished the sandwich, washing it down with water.

Having food in my belly helped with the nausea, and the pounding in my head had reduced somewhat as I inspected the contents of the flask. Coffee, strong and black, just the way I liked it. I filled the mug to the brim and inhaled the rich scent, enjoying the way the smooth liquid slipped down my throat. I’d just finished my coffee, and was contemplating pouring myself a second one, when the door to the room opened.

Mark stepped inside, and I stood, preparing to yell at him for drugging me again, but he waved his hand and my throat constricted. I sank back to the couch, struggling to breathe as four men dressed in identical white pants and tunics carried a plain wooden coffin into the room and set it on the ground beside the bed.

If I hadn’t already been fighting for breath, I would have been hyperventilating at the sight of the coffin. Had he changed his mind? Was I going to be killed and then tossed in the coffin and buried? Would he then set his sights on Belinda once more?

I hunched over, coughing as my lungs sought more air. Mark waved his hand and the pressure on my throat lessened enough to make it possible for me to suck in small amounts of air, but I still couldn’t talk. I straightened up, watching as he pried the lid off the coffin and set it aside as two of the men leaned in. A moment later they picked up a still figure from inside the coffin and placed it on the bed.

It was a man, and my heart thudded in my chest as I saw wavy blond hair and a familiar face.

Liam Devine. 

The four men left the room, taking the coffin with them, and the pressure on my throat vanished.

Mark looked over at me. ‘Take care of him. The drugs he was given to ensure his cooperation will wear off soon. I will have more food brought to you and then I will return tomorrow to begin instructing the both of you in what your roles in the Order will entail.’

He left, and I heard the click as he relocked the door. But I stayed where I was, staring at the still figure on the bed.

What the hell was I supposed to do now?

Hands shaking, I pushed my hair back from my face and approached the bed, staring down at the man I had never dreamed I would one day meet in person.

Scrapes and bruises could be seen through tears in what had once been a nice shirt, and dried blood was visible on his face and knuckles. There was also blood on his cargo pants, and he seemed to have lost his shoes at some time during his journey, though he had managed to keep his black socks on.

What was he going to do? How would he feel and react when he woke and realised what he’d been dragged into the middle of? If the state he was in was any indication, it appeared Liam was no more interested in being a figurehead for the Order of the Arcane than I was, even if it was true that he had some kind of psychic ability.

I turned away from the bed and headed to the bathroom where I found an enamel bowl in a cupboard beside the vanity and half filled it with warm water. The cupboard also contained clean towels and I grabbed one as well as a face washer. Then I took it all back to the bedroom.

Perching on the side of the bed, I placed my supplies down on the other side of Liam. As I undid the few remaining buttons of his torn shirt, I winced once I got a better look at the extent of his injuries.

‘Well, it certainly looks as though you put up a fight. And, judging from the state of your knuckles, I’d say you landed a few punches yourself. Good for you. I only hope whoever did this is hurting even worse than you are.’ As I talked, I gently washed away the dried blood on Liam’s face, hands and chest as best I could. I didn’t want to press too hard and risk hurting him.

The door to the room opened and I looked up as the men who’d carried the coffin in entered the room. Two of them remained at the doorway as the others placed a number of items down on the coffee table, all without making a sound. I waited until they’d left to check Mark had been true to his word. A second thermos flask was on the coffee table as well as another coffee mug and a number of covered plates.

I returned to Liam and dried him off with the towel, and then sat back to admire my handiwork. Running my gaze over his familiar features, I compared the live Liam to the one people saw in the movies and magazines. He didn’t look all that different as he lay there. He looked peaceful despite his bruises. His hair was shorter than it was when he starred in God Unleashed, and several days’ worth of stubble gave him the unkempt look he’d been famous for. His chest rose and fell evenly, body still. 

Eyes narrowed, I stared at the surprisingly delicate fall of his dark lashes as they fluttered slightly. ‘Okay, how long have you been awake?’

His lashes flickered again in response to my question, but his eyes remained closed.

‘Give it up, Liam. I know you’re awake, so you can stop pretending. Either that or stop twitching your eyelids.’ Shaking my head, I watched as he tried to keep his eyelids still, waiting for him to recognise the futility of his pretence. Maybe he would give it up if I gave him some reassurance.

‘It’s all right. Mark and the others have gone so it’s just you and me here.’

Liam opened his eyes, golden gaze locking onto mine. 

I forgot to breathe, body temperature soaring and then dropping just as rapidly as it had risen when I realised what I’d been doing. 

I, Grace Ann Evans, had practically undressed and then given a sponge bath to Liam Devine. A guy I’d been crushing on since I’d first set eyes on him in the television drama Flanigan’s Run six years earlier. He’d been the break-out star, turning the then fourteen-year-old into a heartthrob poster boy for teenage girls all over the country, including me. 

I sucked in a shaky breath and pushed all that aside to concentrate on the here and now. ‘My name’s Grace. I’m sure you have heaps of questions you want answered. Ask away, and I promise to give it my best shot.’

Liam lifted a hand and rubbed his eyes before turning his head and looking around the room. ‘Where am I?’ he asked, voice harsh from disuse.

He rolled onto his side and tried to sit but fell back against the covers.

I leaned in to help, wrapping my arm around his back and supporting him as best I could. This close, I was conscious of the heat of his body pressed against my side, as well as the strong odour of sweat. There was no telling how long he’d been stuck inside that coffin. He needed to get cleaned up, but not until whatever drug he had been given was out of his system. Giving him a quick sponge bath was one thing, helping him shower was another matter entirely.

A cup of coffee would clear some of the cobwebs in his head, with a bucket load of sugar to soften the shock he was bound to be feeling at the situation he found himself in. With a steadying arm around his waist, I urged him to his feet and slowly led him over to the couch. Then I poured him a coffee and stirred in plenty of sugar, adding milk to cool it down in case his coordination was not up to the task and he spilled some. 

His eyes were dull, but after he took a few sips of the coffee his gaze brightened, and he straightened up. He grimaced as the movement no doubt pulled on his injuries, and then put his mug down and faced me.

‘Listen, lady,’ he said, voice low and rasping, ‘I don’t know what the hell you and those jerks back on the beach are trying to pull here, but I’m not going to be a part of it. I’m leaving, now, and there is nothing you can do to stop me.’ 

He sounded pissed off and I couldn’t blame him. 

He was going to be even more pissed off after he heard what I had to say next.

 

Chapter Four

Figuring there was no point in delaying the moment or in taking it slow, I said, ‘As I told you before, my name is Grace. Not lady. The only way out of here is the door over there, which happens to be locked from the outside, so unfortunately you aren’t going anywhere.’

Watching Liam closely, I could tell from the stubborn jut of his chin that he wasn’t going to give up just because I’d told him escape was impossible.

‘We’ll see about that,’ he said as he stood. He strode over to the door, and tugged on the handle, body tense. 

Liam was in for more rude shocks before I was finished, and I didn’t have time to mollycoddle him. He needed to know what was going on before Mark came back to check out his newest acquisition. He may have made good on the promise of more food, but I didn’t trust him to leave us alone until the next day.

It was probably best to give Liam all the bad news at once. That way he could vent his anger and emotions now, when it was safe to, rather than when Mark was around to throttle him into submission. I reached up and rubbed my throat, still sore and tender from being half-strangled. Liam had enough bruises without adding more to the list. 

He let go of the door handle and stormed back to the couch, looming over me. ‘You will unlock that door right now or I will—’

‘You won’t do anything.’ 

I scowled at him. He may have been bashed, kidnapped, drugged senseless and transported halfway round the country in a coffin, but that didn’t give him the right to speak to me in that tone of voice when I was just as much a prisoner as he was. I stood and poked him in the chest with one finger.

‘What makes you think I can open that door any better than you can? In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m locked in here with you. I wasn’t given any more of a choice to be here than you were. I want to leave just as much as you do, probably even more. So, if you want to know what’s going on I suggest you listen to what I have to say.’

When I was sure I had his full attention, I sat back down and spoke in a more reasonable tone. ‘I know you are confused and angry but shouting at me isn’t going to solve anything. Please, have a seat and let me explain.’

Conflicting emotions flashed over his face, his body rigid as he glared down at me. Then the fight went out of him and he slowly sank onto the couch, cradling his head in his hands. 

‘I don’t know where we are, but I think it’s somewhere near Easton.’ Unless I’d been unconscious for longer than I thought, we couldn’t be too far from my hometown. ‘Other than that, I don’t have a clue. I was unconscious when Mark brought me here.’

‘Mark?’

‘Mark Davidson. He’s in charge of this place.’ I stifled a grimace. ‘He’s crazy, thinks people with psychic abilities are superior and should be in charge, and plans to take over the running of the country basically.’

Liam’s eyes narrowed when I mentioned psychic abilities, his body stiffening.

‘What’s that got to do with me? I’m not some psychic.’

‘Me either, but that didn’t stop him from kidnapping me based on a vision someone had.’ I thought it best not to mention it was Belinda’s vision that caused Mark to choose me. Or to question Liam’s statement about not being psychic. We could get to that later.

‘Okay, so he runs this organisation he calls the Order of the Arcane, and his seers supposedly picked the two of us as being the best candidates for acting as the figureheads for when he starts his takeover bid.’ Mark could be the one to fill Liam in on the idea that our kids would wind up ruling the country. This was a hard enough subject to broach as it was.

‘Mark seems to think you have the ability to compel people to worship you,’ I said.

‘If I could compel people, I wouldn’t have let myself be kidnapped,’ he said, with a bitter twist to his mouth.

‘From what he said before he brought you here, your compulsion only works on those who don’t have psychic abilities. If he’s telling the truth, it wouldn’t have worked on him and his followers.’

He stared at me, suspicion lighting his gaze. ‘Why should I believe you?’

I shrugged. ‘Whether you believe me or not, it doesn’t change the facts. You and I are locked in here, with no way of getting out without help.’ 

He continued to stare at me, silent. I lifted my head, meeting his gaze head on, refusing to look away. While I knew he had every right to be suspicious, he had to get over it fast. We were in this together. He had to learn to trust me if we were to have any hope of escaping.

After a long moment he gave a sigh and looked away, running a hand through his hair. A split second later his face screwed up. ‘Man, I stink.’

‘Yes, you do. The bathroom is through that way.’ I softened my comment with a smile as I pointed toward the wardrobe door, figuring he was now alert enough not to fall over and knock himself out while getting cleaned up. ‘There are clothes for you to change into on the right. Why don’t you go have a shower, and when you’re done we can put our heads together and see if we can figure out a way to escape.’

His gaze roamed over my face, as if he was judging my sincerity, before he gave a nod and headed for the wardrobe.

As soon as he was out of sight I poured myself a cup of coffee, sure I would need the caffeine boost to get me through the next few hours.

Locked in a room with Liam Devine. A room with only one bed.

It was bound to be a long night.

 

Liam’s eyes held more of a spark as he came back to the couch, hair wet from his shower, dressed all in white. He picked up his coffee mug and downed the contents in quick gulps as he took his seat.

He gave a shudder. ‘Man, that was sweet.’ He set the mug back on the coffee table and peeled the covers off the plates.

‘You seem in a much better mood,’ I said, watching as he crammed a sandwich into his mouth. After his earlier performance I expected him to be all fired up about escaping, not filling his stomach.

‘I’m starving. Figured I may as well take care of that while you fill me in on how screwed we are.’

‘Very screwed. Mark is telekinetic. He strangled me without even touching me. Twice.’

Liam put down the sandwich he had just picked up, eyes wide. ‘Seriously?’

‘Yeah, and from what he said all his followers have an ability as well, so getting out of here isn’t going to be easy. Especially as we can’t even get the door unlocked.’

While he continued with his meal I filled him in on what I knew, which admittedly wasn’t much. I was yawning at the end of it, despite the caffeine in my system. With no way of telling what time it was, my body clock was urging me to take a break. Liam’s energy seemed to be flagging as well, and I guessed a drugged stupor was no substitute for real rest. But he wore an intent expression as he continued to question me.

‘You know this sounds insane, right?’ Liam asked.

‘Don’t tell Mark that. He gets real twitchy when you tell him how crazy he is.’ I shuddered, one hand going to my throat.

Liam’s gaze followed the movement, and I swallowed heavily when he edged closer. He stretched out a hand, fingers gently stroking the side of my neck.

‘He caused these bruises, without even touching you?’

I nodded, not trusting my voice with him sitting so close. He smelled so much better now, fresh and clean after his shower. Though he still wore his stubble.

I cleared my throat and he pulled his hand away, sitting back. ‘What about his followers? What kinds of things can they do?’

Before I could say anything, another yawn hit, making my eyes water.

Liam stood. ‘I’m sorry, you’re tired. I should let you get some sleep.’ He scanned the room, and then his gaze swung back to me. ‘There’s only one bed.’

‘Uh huh,’ I said, words drying up. 

He looked down at the couch. ‘I’ll sleep here,’ he said. ‘You can have the bed.’

The couch was a two-seater, and as comfortable as it was to sit on it wouldn’t make a good bed for either of us. Eyes fixed on a spot to the left of Liam, I said, ‘That’s crazy. The bed is huge. There is plenty of room for both of us. Besides, we both need to get a good night’s sleep if we want to be able to take advantage of any opportunity to escape.’

Liam gave a slow nod. ‘If you’re sure?’

‘It’ll be fine,’ I said, aware I sounded anything but sure. But Liam appeared to take my words at face value and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

After it was my turn, and I’d changed into a nightgown I’d found on a shelf in the wardrobe, I headed over to the bed. A flush swept over my body at the sight of Liam stretched out on top of the covers, arms behind his head, his gaze on me. 

He still wore the pants he’d changed into after his shower but had removed the tunic top. It was hard not to stare at all the tanned flesh on display, the defined muscles in his torso, the trail of hair, a shade darker than what was on his head, running between his washboard abs and disappearing below the waistband of his pants. 

‘I wasn’t sure what side of the bed you like,’ he said, ‘so I figured I’d wait for you.’

I cleared my throat, making sure my gaze was fixed on his face and not his naked chest. ‘Ah, I usually sleep on the left.’ The side he was on.

‘Cool.’ He slid off the bed and walked around it, slipping under the covers on the right. Then he lay on his side, propped up on his elbow, and watched me. 

I hadn’t moved, torn between disappointment and relief that he had covered up.

‘Pretty sure you can’t sleep standing up,’ he said, full lips curving into a smile. ‘And I promise not to bite.’

I gave myself a shake, dropping my eyes as I climbed into the bed. It was warm from his body heat. I lay on my back, hyper aware of the half-naked man beside me. He was still watching me, I could tell, the weight of his gaze deepening my flush. 

I wanted to say something to make it seem less awkward to be sharing a bed with someone I barely knew but couldn’t risk tripping over my tongue and making a fool of myself. I’d dated a few guys since I’d finished high school, but none of the relationships had progressed to the stage where we were having sleepovers once I’d made it clear I wasn’t interested in casual sex. For me, it had to be a meaningful experience with someone I loved and who loved me back, and I was prepared to wait until I met that person. 

Of course, I’d daydreamed about it happening with the man currently beside me, but dreaming was all it ever was. I’d never thought I’d meet him let alone find myself sharing a bed with him.

To be locked in a room with the man I had fantasised about was both exhilarating and terrifying. What if he found out about my crush? I’d be mortified.

No. I had to play it cool. Treat this for exactly what it was. Unforeseen circumstances pushing the two of us together.

I forced myself to meet his eyes. ‘Goodnight,’ I said, reaching to the switch beside the bed and turning off the lights in the bedroom before he could respond. The light was still on in the wardrobe, the door left open, casting a faint glow over the room as I hunkered down under the covers and attempted to pretend the sleeping arrangements were not freaking me out.

Rustling sounds came from beside me as Liam made himself comfortable.

‘Goodnight, Grace,’ he said, his voice husky.

Soon he was breathing deep, even breaths and I let the sound of them soothe me off to sleep. But instead of a restful night, I spent the bulk of it dreaming about running through a maze with mirrored walls, all of them showing Liam’s reflection, trying to find the real version so we could escape. 

When I finally fell into a dreamless sleep, it felt like only a moment had passed before a tantalising scent tickled my nose, gently pulling me back to wakefulness. I pushed the covers back and sat up, looking to the right to see an empty space beside me. Movement in the room brought my attention to the couch.

The lights were back on and Liam stood beside the coffee table, once again lifting covers off plates.

From the smell I guessed we’d been given a hot breakfast. My stomach grumbled loudly in anticipation, though it scared me to think I hadn’t heard anyone enter the room to deliver the food. 

Had Liam?

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and he looked up and gave a smile. 

‘Morning. Hope you slept well.’

His gaze was warm, inviting, and I flushed as I pushed my hair back from my face. It was always a tangle in the morning. I must look ridiculous.

‘Grace?’

I cleared my throat. ‘I slept okay, thank you.’ Well, except for the crazy dream of looking for him in the maze of mirrors. My stomach grumbled again, teased by the smells of the food Liam was uncovering.

I slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom. After tidying my hair, I returned to the main room and accepted the mug of coffee Liam handed me. 

‘Black, right? No sugar?’

It amazed me that he’d noticed how I liked my coffee the night before, even with everything going on.

‘Thank you,’ I said, taking a fortifying sip before sitting on the couch. He joined me and there was a companionable silence as we began to eat.

‘I’ll say one thing for our kidnappers, they aren’t being stingy with the food,’ said Liam, a few minutes later. ‘They were quiet, too. I didn’t even hear them come in.’

I paused, laden fork in front of my mouth. ‘Do you think they put something in the food?’ For both of us not to have heard them, it seemed suspicious.

Liam frowned as he sopped up egg yolk with a piece of toast. ‘I did have the best night sleep I’ve had in a while, but I don’t think it was because of drugs. Not new ones anyway. I just figured my body was still fighting off the ones they stuck in me to get me here. Might be a different story tonight.’

Tonight.

I’d be sleeping in the same bed as Liam again, if we didn’t figure a way to escape before then. But that was going to be hard to do if we remained locked in this room all day.

‘After he brought you here, Mark said he’d return today to begin our instruction.’ I shivered, not sure what kind of instruction would be required for people he wanted to use as figureheads for his fake religion.

Liam frowned. ‘I better have a second coffee then, to keep up my strength, and one of these little pastries,’ he said, leaning across me to grab a sweet pastry off the plate on my end of the coffee table.

His hair brushed my face as he moved back, and I sucked in a breath when warmth flooded my body at his nearness.

‘Sorry,’ he said, giving me a wide grin before munching on the pastry.

I ducked my head, hoping my hair hid my flush as I put my fork down on the plate and took a sip of my coffee.

After breakfast was finished, I headed back to the bathroom and got cleaned up. The dress I’d worn the day before was no longer on the floor where I’d left it, and neither were my pyjamas. I changed into a fresh dress, though it irked to not have any real choice in what I wore.

When I returned to the bedroom, Liam had already made the bed. He took his turn in the bathroom as I tidied up the empty plates and trays on the coffee table. We’d both had big appetites, probably on account of missing meals while we were unconscious.

After the room was set to rights, there was nothing to do but wait. As the minutes passed with no sign of Mark, my tension grew. I had no idea what to expect, but from what I’d seen so far, I knew Mark would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.

What would he do when he discovered I really didn’t have a psychic ability to be awakened?