The Magic Hunt (Midnight Hunters)
Table of Contents
Synopsis
By Radclyffe
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
About the Author
Applause for L.L. Raand’s Midnight Hunters Series
Acclaim for Radclyffe’s Fiction
Other L.L. Raand/Radclyffe Titles Available via Amazon
Books Available From Bold Strokes Books
Synopsis
With her Pack under siege by humans and Praeterns, Sylvan turns her back on the government that has marginalized her wolves and threatened their survival. Hunted by human extremists, targeted by the Shadow Lords who fear her growing power, and beset by enemies masquerading as friends, Sylvan leads the Timberwolf Pack deep into the Adirondack wilderness where she challenges her allies to prove their loyalty—on pain of death. Drake, Sylvan’s mate and mother of their newborn young, struggles to shield Sylvan from the feral rage that threatens to turn Sylvan rogue, destroying their union and their pack.
A Midnight Hunters novel.
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The Magic Hunt
© 2014 By L.L. Raand. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-091-1
This Electronic Book is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, New York 12185
First Edition: March 2014
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editors: Ruth Sternglantz and Stacia Seaman
Production Design: Stacia Seaman
Cover Design By Sheri (GraphicArtist2020@hotmail.com)
By Radclyffe
Romances
Innocent Hearts
Promising Hearts
Love’s Melody Lost
Love’s Tender Warriors
Tomorrow’s Promise
Love’s Masquerade
shadowland
Passion’s Bright Fury
Fated Love
Turn Back Time
When Dreams Tremble
The Lonely Hearts Club
Night Call
Secrets in the Stone
Desire by Starlight
Crossroads
Homestead
Honor Series
Above All, Honor
Honor Bound
Love & Honor
Honor Guards
Honor Reclaimed
Honor Under Siege
Word of Honor
Code of Honor
Justice Series
A Matter of Trust (prequel)
Shield of Justice
In Pursuit of Justice
Justice in the Shadows
Justice Served
Justice For All
The Provincetown Tales
Safe Harbor
Beyond the Breakwater
Distant Shores, Silent Thunder
Storms of Change
Winds of Fortune
Returning Tides
Sheltering Dunes
First Responders Novels
Trauma Alert
Firestorm
Oath of Honor
Short Fiction
Collected Stories by Radclyffe
Erotic Interludes: Change of Pace
Radical Encounters
Edited by Radclyffe
Best Lesbian Romance 2009-2014
Stacia Seaman and Radclyffe, eds.
Erotic Interludes 2: Stolen Moments
Erotic Interludes 3: Lessons in Love
Erotic Interludes 4: Extreme Passions
Erotic Interludes 5: Road Games
Romantic Interludes 1: Discovery
Romantic Interludes 2: Secrets
Breathless: Tales of Celebration
Women of the Dark Streets: Lesbian Paranormal
Amore and More: Love Everafter
By L.L. Raand
Midnight Hunters
The Midnight Hunt
Blood Hunt
The Lone Hunt
The Magic Hunt
Acknowledgments
Five books and almost as many years later, what began as an experiment has become a challenging, ongoing adventure. I have always let the characters lead, and never more than in this series. My original plan had been to write standalone paranormal romances connected primarily by the universe in which the characters lived, but as in the Ptown Tales and the Honor series, no matter which new romance predominates in a particular book, the original pair claims a major role as well. Reese and Tory, Cam and Blair, and now Sylvan and Drake are at the epicenter of the world in which other characters claim the stage for a time. The challenges for them and me continue, and I am very grateful to all the readers who have embraced this series and given me a reason to keep writing it. With this book I have expanded the borders of “their world,” and I hope you all enjoy the newest members of the Hunt.
Thanks go to Sandy Lowe, who somehow makes work fun; to Ruth Sternglantz for always finding the words beneath the words; to Stacia Seaman for making me feel fresh book after book; and to my first readers Connie, Eva, and Paula for constant encouragement.
Sheri, irreplaceable and eminently talented, my deepest appreciation.
And to Lee, adventurer extraordinaire—Amo te.
Radclyffe, 2014
For Lee, for believing in possibility
Chapter One
COALITION LEADER TARGETED IN BOMBING
PRAETERN RIGHTS NEGOTIATIONS DERAILED
Over a month has passed since Sylvan Mir, the head of the Praetern Coalition negotiating for state and federal recognition of Praetern governing bodies along with civil protections for their members, was the target of an assassination attempt at the governor’s gala in Albany, New York. Mir, the wolf Were Alpha, her mate and several members of her party were injured, one fatally, when a car bomb exploded as they were leaving the gathering of the state’s elite. No one has come forth to claim responsibility and the local police investigation has generated no suspects.
This most recent attack follows only weeks after Mir Industries was bombed, resulting in extensive damage and
multiple injuries. Reports of attacks on Praeterns and their establishments throughout the nation point to the growing resistance to Praetern sovereignty and legal recognition. HUFSI (Humans United for Species Integrity) and other radical opposition groups have advocated internment or population control, including chemical neutralization.
Senator Daniel Weston, chairman of the House Committee on Praetern Affairs, was unavailable for comment, as was Alpha Mir. In the face of these attacks, the future effectiveness of the Coalition is in question, while these events underscore the increasingly vocal and violent disapproval among humans to Praetern equality. Confidential sources have revealed some private groups with close government ties have begun experimenting with biological and chemical means of controlling Praetern species, in some cases with unwilling participants as test subjects. To date, human law enforcement agencies have devoted few if any resources to the investigation of these allegations, despite the mounting evidence.
For updates on these and other developing stories, follow the Land Report at the Albany Star.
—Becca Land, investigative reporter
Francesca hissed and tossed aside the newspaper her servants had brought to her bedroom at sunfall along with the usual silver tea service and tray of assorted canapés. She insisted on the formality even though she awakened with only one need—for the blood that coursed in the veins of her blood slaves, the blood she needed to survive, the blood that gave her strength and filled her with power and desire. She swept her hand down the length of Michel’s naked back as Michel, who reclined beside her on the large bed that dominated her boudoir, fed indolently from the breast of a dazed young wolf Were. “Jody Gates’s consort is becoming a problem.”
The Were convulsed as Michel withdrew her incisors from the soft underside of the female’s breast, breaking their blood connection and abruptly terminating the sexual thrall. Michel murmured an apology and licked the punctures closed, injecting a pulse of feeding hormone before closing the wounds, inciting yet another orgasm in her pliant host. She rolled onto her back, her Mediterranean-blue eyes bright with bloodlust and renewed power. “Becca Land? What has she done?”
Francesca leaned down and kissed her, tasting the lingering essence of the Were host, briefly wondering if Michel found satisfaction from the countless male and female Weres she fed from night after night. No matter how often Michel fed, her eyes always gleamed with a hunger that never seemed to abate. Even the orgasms she experienced when feeding appeared to go unnoticed, a reflex and nothing more. Ever since the fiasco at the fundraiser, Michel had been absent from her bed with increasing frequency, a situation Francesca would need to address soon. Right now, she had other concerns. “The human has written a newspaper article that unwisely draws public attention to Praetern matters better left private.”
Michel pushed up on one arm, her midnight hair framing a sharp, ascetically handsome face. “Has she mentioned us?”
“Not yet.” Francesca grimaced. Ever since Sylvan Mir’s father had forced the Praetern species out of hiding and into the awareness of humans, she—along with many other powerful Praetern leaders—had been bracing for the backlash while trying to fortify her own position in a shifting political landscape. After centuries of relative peace, the Vampires had grown complacent. The wolf Weres, who had once been their subjects and the heart of their armies, had rebelled and won their struggle for independence generations ago. Since then, the Weres had carved out their own territories, and their Packs had grown in size and strength. Now the Vampires were vastly outnumbered and militarily weak. Even though Francesca commanded all Vampire seethes east of the Mississippi River, without an army she could not afford to be drawn into a war. “But Becca Land doesn’t understand what she’s dealing with—if she exposes the Shadow Lords and our attempt to destroy the Coalition becomes known, we’ll have a Praetern war—and we’re not prepared.”
“To say nothing of what Mir will do if she knows one of the members was part of a plan to assassinate her.” Michel moved the Were aside and slipped her arm around Francesca. The blood host moaned in protest and tried weakly to drag Michel’s hand between her thighs. Michel gently brushed the hand away and cradled Francesca’s full breast in her palm. Satisfied when Francesca arched in pleasure, Michel murmured, “Let me see the article.”
“We don’t need a reporter keeping the story alive when the humans, at least, seem more than happy to forget all about it.” Francesca handed Michel the newspaper and stroked Michel’s taut abdomen as she read. They’d both fed, and their sexual power and needs were at the pinnacle. Her blood slave had been a more than adequate fuck, but no one ever satisfied the way Michel could. After a millennium together, Michel intuited her needs almost before she did. Francesca motioned to Daniela, a handmaiden who waited in the shadows by the ornately carved wooden doors, to approach the bed. “Dispose of this host and leave us.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Daniela’s eyes shone a deep scarlet and her thighs glistened with arousal. Newly risen, she could not yet master her hunger when inundated by the sexual force of two Vampires as powerful as Francesca and Michel.
Smiling, Francesca skimmed her fingertips along the inside of Daniela’s thigh, lingering when she reached the swollen apex to idly finger her clitoris. Daniela swayed, her incisors gleaming. Francesca never let her servants feed until she and Michel were finished. Daniela was starving for blood and sex, but her control was improving. “You may avail yourself of my prisoner once you’ve seen to this one.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” Daniela gasped.
“Go now.” Francesca closed her eyes as Michel squeezed her nipple to attention.
Michel returned the paper to the serving tray and waited until Daniela lifted the somnolent Were from the bed and carried her out. She debated how much to say—Francesca was a master at laying traps for friend and foe alike, and never tired of playing complex games. After centuries of existence, very little else was of interest. Until recently, Michel hadn’t given much thought to what might happen if she and Francesca were ever at odds. She knew without doubt if Francesca deemed her a threat, she would order her execution. Francesca might do so regretfully, for a moment or two, but she would not hesitate to do whatever necessary to secure her power. Michel had always known her true death hinged on Francesca’s whim, and for centuries she hadn’t really cared. Immortal existence had outstripped all pleasure except for the fleeting power and oblivion of bloodlust. Sadly, indulging in that kind of oblivion was a perfect way to lose one’s head.
She couldn’t recall experiencing true pleasure until Katya. Michel forced the image of the young Were from her mind. Francesca was too close, in body and mind, for her to shield her thoughts. Bending her head, she mouthed Francesca’s breast, feeding the sexual tide surging in Francesca’s blood. “Becca Land seems to be focusing on the Weres. She is after all a Vampire’s consort. She wouldn’t want to cast suspicion on us.”
“Mmm. Perhaps. But Jody Gates is heir to the Night Hunter clan, and Zachary would not mind taking my place. Perhaps Jody and her human have a plan to sway opinion to Jody’s father. That could lead to rebellion.”
Michel laughed. “It will take more than rumor and suspicion to dethrone you, Viceregal.”
“Wars have been fought over far less.” Francesca ran her fingers through Michel’s hair, drawing her crimson-painted nails down the back of Michel’s neck and over her shoulders. She let the sharp edges break skin, inhaling the lush scent of ferrous-rich blood. She didn’t take sustenance from other Vampires—none of them did. They were predators, and part of the thrill of feeding was enthralling prey—but she did enjoy the taste of domination in another’s blood. “Sylvan already suspects us of involvement. If the human uncovers proof of Nicholas’s experiments and our involvement, Sylvan will break her pledge to support us. We will be defenseless against her greater strength.”
“Nicholas is the weak link,” Michel murmured, caressing Francesca’s abdomen, teasing the heat from her depths, draw
ing blood and power to her sex. Her own blood fired, caught in the undertow of Francesca’s supreme allure. “His repeated attempts to eliminate Sylvan only draw attention to all of us. He needs to be controlled.”
“In time.” Francesca straddled her, rubbing her clitoris over Michel’s stomach. She arched, her lids slitted, her full red lips curved into a self-satisfied smile. “Nicholas has not yet outlived his uses, but Becca Land is expendable.”
Francesca’s fingers closed around Michel’s clitoris and Michel groaned. Her hips bucked as Francesca rode her, bringing herself to orgasm while she tugged and twisted Michel’s turgid length.
“That’s right, darling,” Francesca crooned, her orgasm spilling out onto Michel’s rigid torso. “Isn’t this so much better than those undisciplined Weres? They can never give you this, can they?”
“No.” Michel choked as the backlash from Francesca’s release flooded her with lust and power. Her body spasmed and she came again, unable to hold her shields, unable to stop the images of Katya raging through her mind.
Francesca scored the pristine flesh of Michel’s small, perfect breasts with her nails, leaned over, and licked the red streaks away, joining them by blood and sex. Vestiges of lust and longing and fleeting glimpses of golden eyes and tawny hair flitted through her awareness. Michel was strong, but she was stronger, and she did not allow anyone to keep secrets.