Illusions: Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (The Seekers Book 1) Page 6

  According to the Guild’s rules, Paxx would perform the Ritual as his ancestors had done. He had never shifted, but he would discover his déor before long, provided that he could find two suitable mates.

  The problem was that according to the Guild’s regulations, a suitable female mate was any woman who could be persuaded to engage with two of their men in sexual congress. The leaders would choose her for him, stealing her from her home and thrusting him upon her, alongside another man. But the very idea was repugnant to Paxx, and every one of his instincts fought against it.

  He and his brother were only reluctant members, pulled into the Guild for their blood but not willingly, not happily. It was the leaders of the group who’d noted their specialness and detected that they were in fact of shifter stock. After the boys’ parents had died, the group had offered them shelter, education, a home. In return, they were to partake in the traditions. But little did they know at an early age what was going to be asked of them.

  After years of observation they’d come to the quiet conclusion that the group was brutish, immoral and led by corrupt individuals in search of power. Crow, the Guild’s top-ranking male, wanted to create a line of shifters who had similar intentions to his: to take over this new nation, to spread out like a virus and occupy every corner of the land. And, given their strength and powers, it could be done quite easily. No mere human could take on a shifter, let alone an army of them. The scheme had all the potential for a bloody war that would last for centuries, leaving thousands or millions dead in its wake.

  And Paxx wanted no part of it. He and his brother, Phist, quietly discussed ways to stop the Guild before it spread like a cancer through the land. But they had no power. No leverage. And until they each found their mates, neither would come into his own; neither would be able to transform into what would become his déor, his shifted form. And so a vicious circle had formed wherein they were stuck in a situation which would allow them eventually to mate, but only in the most odious way: by forcing an innocent woman.

  And so he worked daily at finding a solution that wouldn’t contradict his nobility and his goodness. To find a way to bond with a woman of her own volition, out of lust, desire. Perhaps even love.

  * * *

  Once again, Paxx inhaled the scent of the blond woman. He could tell from her isolation from the others and from her clothing that she was one of the members of the infamous Sisterhood. She was of old blood herself, though with a different set of powers entirely from his kind. According to what he’d heard, the young Aspirants of the Sisterhood didn’t know about the shifters or their Rituals; this information was kept from them, a secret. The Aspirants knew only that the men of the Guild were powerful and dangerous. Nothing of their great potential, or of the potential to bond with them in the most extraordinary of ways.

  The Sisterhood was filled with women who would have made excellent mates: they possessed magical gifts and strength unlike that of regular women. But this also made them sassy and resistant to any sort of advance from a man. And they protected one another. Some of the Crones were mighty, and when together they provided a protective force around their village which the Guild’s cruel leaders wished to break down so that they could take the younger members for their own use.

  But Paxx had other hopes: that his own mate would come to him happily, willingly. That their bond would involve love and respect, and not a simple business contract. This would be for life, after all. And if all went well, life would be long and pleasant.

  The woman with the long, light curls was still staring ahead towards the front of the church, no doubt aware that he was admiring her, considering what it might be like to lie with such a creature. But even from a distance Paxx could feel her strength, her hostility. Never would he force himself on any woman, let alone one so magnificent.

  But if she came to him with the offer, he would take her gladly, make love to her, share her with another man.

  “The meeting is coming to order,” said a voice at the front of the church, taking him abruptly out of the fantasy.

  It was the town’s doctor who spoke. He was well-liked and respected for his adherence to all things conservative. Here was a man who treated patients, but never with anything approaching white magic or trickery. And he had been among the first to have reported the growing hysteria which had led to the claims of witchcraft.

  “The first issue,” he began, “Is the extraction of young women from their homes, alongside accusations of the Craft. Some question the morality of such a move, but I for one support it.”

  “Hear, hear!” The words were shouted from various corners of the assembly.

  “These women have proven unstable, hysterical, even. And it is therefore fair to accuse them. It is to them to prove their innocence, so let them do so, I say.”

  Murmurs of approval rose in the audience as Sera looked on. She wasn’t surprised, but she was disgusted. All it took was one man to rise before these people and spew his nonsense for most to subscribe, nodding like a bunch of sheep who didn’t understand what it was that they followed. A herd of idiots.

  “The women will be tried for their bonds with the Devil,” continued the doctor. “And so a confession is advisable if accused; those who refuse will likely be punished by hanging. Let this be a message to those of you here in Salem, particularly to any spinsters. You are all at risk. It is unnatural to live in solitude, to forego the natural order in favour of your improper desires. You were put on this earth to procreate, not to create potions and poultices.”

  So a woman who chooses to be alone and productive must be a bloody witch, thought Sera cynically. Ah, the logic of males.

  “I would suggest that you marry as soon as you can, to prove your bond with the Church and with one man, who will guide you and command you through life. Only then can you be saved.”

  Well, that was it. Sera couldn’t help herself.

  “And what of the single men?” she shouted, standing up. “Are they to be tried as well for ‘unnatural behaviour?’”

  Voices rose like a wave coming towards her: protests and grunts of disapproval. What was this unseemly woman implying? Men, of course, could choose to be single. It was ridiculous to imply otherwise.

  “Men are strong and naturally able to look after themselves through gainful employment,” said the doctor. “Women rely on men to provide for them. It is unnatural for a woman—such as yourself, for instance, Miss Serafina—to remain solitary. You are of the weaker sex and each day that passes, your soul is more at risk of damnation.”

  “I am far from solitary,” said Sera. “There is a community of women far stronger than most men, looking out for me—women who farm, who raise animals, who build houses themselves, without the help of male hands. You, on the other hand, seem to enjoy containing the fairer sex within a small crate, rather than allowing for the possibility that we are self-sufficient.”

  Paxx stared across the aisle at her, an expression of admiration on his face. Not only was this Serafina woman beautiful, but intelligent as well. She had balls larger than most men’s—even the shifters he knew so well, who were so often too weak to stand up to the Guild leaders.

  The doctor who led the meeting slammed a fist down on the lectern.

  “Silence,” he shouted. “You and your community are not long for this world, Miss Serafina.” This time, the “Miss” title was offered as an insult. “You cannot continue to live as you do, in your ungodly manner. Much as we pray for you, I’m afraid that we cannot help you when the time comes. When you are swept from your homes and tried, as you should be. Save yourselves now, while you can. Cease your immoral activities, your foul Bonding ceremonies, before you all end up burning in Hell. Oh yes, we know about your carnal pleasures. We know it all.”

  “You dare speak of Hell?” shot Sera. “Hell is being forced into a life of submission among men who have nothing but their own interests at heart. There is nothing to that life for me. I would sooner die than live under you
r arbitrary rules. And to think that I came here to offer my help. To offer protection to Salem’s young women. But you don’t want that, do you? You just want an excuse to kill women because your tiny penis tells you that they’re somehow threatening to hinder your quest for power.”

  Every face was now turned her way; glaring men and women alike, horrified at the forwardness of her words. None of these people wanted her protection, or that of her Sisterhood. In their eyes, she was the Devil’s minion; a foul seductress who showed too much skin and who spent time with strange animals, conjuring spells and brewing potions made up of poisoned herbs.

  These people had no idea what was good for them, she told herself, exhausted. Sera turned and walked out of the building onto the packed-down dirt surface of the street outside. She glanced down at her bag, where Nyx’s head, poking out, made her immediately forget what she’d just been through; she almost wanted to laugh. The ferret seemed to be asking if it was safe to come out now.

  “Stay hidden a moment longer,” she said quietly. “Those people make me so damned angry. If they saw you they’d probably cook you for dinner and then claim that you deserved it because you were possessed.”

  “Not surprising that they should make you angry, Miss—Lady—Serafina.” The man’s voice came from the church’s doorway and Sera turned around to see the same tall, light-haired man who’d sat in her row standing before her, an amused look on his face. “They’re not your allies. Not even close.”

  “Oh, but you are my ally? Are you going to go back in there and explain that it’s your men who are stealing their sisters and daughters, holding them without anyone’s consent?”

  “I’m not so stupid as that,” he said. “So no, of course I won’t. And now would probably be a good time to tell you that not all Guild members are willing partners in all the madness.”

  “What does that mean?” said Sera. “You’re trying to tell me that you don’t approve; that you’d leave if you had the chance? That some of you aren’t kidnappers and…and whatever else you do?”

  “That’s exactly my meaning,” he said. “But I would prefer to steer the Guild into a better direction; one that functions rather differently. Something more like your Sisterhood.”

  “What do you know of the Sisterhood?”

  “That you’re strong, self-sufficient and that you do not seek unwilling partners for your…ceremonies,” he said. With the last word, the man appeared almost to blush. “That it would be a privilege, in fact, to bond with a woman such as yourself.” With that, he took a step towards her, still imagining what it would be like to pleasure such a beautiful creature.

  “It isn’t difficult, I suppose, to find a man willing to engage in such activities,” said Sera, her tone slightly less confrontational. “But that said, your Guild appears filled with cruel men. The Crones don’t seek cruelty when looking for partners.”

  “I agree that most are cruel,” said Paxx. “Which is why I am speaking to you now.”

  “I don’t understand…why are you speaking to me?”

  “You need to know that the Guild is going to make its way before long to your village, to seek out your members.”

  “Well, they’ll fail. We are powerful. At least the Crones are. It’s not so easy to take them on.”

  “The Guild members have already taken women from close to where you reside, from the nearby woods, in fact. The Crones did nothing to protect them, and word is that their powers are fading day by day. Don’t think that you’re invincible.”

  “The Crones didn’t know that it was happening,” said Sera. “They can’t have known.”

  “Perhaps they didn’t. But I wanted to warn you to watch over your own. To remember that no one is immune.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  Paxx leaned in, speaking in hushed tones.

  “On the contrary. I am trying to offer you protection,” he said, his light eyes fixed on hers. “Don’t ask me why, as I am risking my own life in doing so. Next to our leaders I am currently powerless. But I want to help ensure your safety. One of our members in particular has an eye on you.”

  “Why?”

  “I suppose because they see potential in you. And potential is good. Potential means future power for the Guild.”

  “How on earth would I provide any power for your people?” Serafina asked.

  “You don’t know about the Ritual?” he began. But he was interrupted by a racket behind him.

  In that moment, the residents of Salem began to exit the church, glaring at her as they passed.

  “I need to go,” said the man. “My name is Paxx, Lady Serafina. And I will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety. But if I’m seen speaking to you now, I won’t survive the night.”

  “Go, then,” she replied as he turned away. “Paxx.”

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  The Sorceress

  The woman known only as “The Sorceress” leaned her elbows on the long dining table as she savoured the meal that the lesser Guild members had cooked for her and her fellow leaders: stewed rabbit and red wine. As usual, she was spending the evening inside her lavish house with her mates, Crow and Mace. Two shifters, come fully into their powers thanks to her. Two men whose level of ambition nearly matched hers, though no one could really come close to such a ruthless dictator.

  She eyed both men, pleased as always to have found two such virile, strong specimens to bend and manipulate to her will.

  In stark contrast to his name, Crow was a lion shifter. His ancestry had included the blood of many shifters, all feline, mixed to blend their strength and speed. In his ancestors’ line were those who had refused to mix the various species of déor, opting rather for the pure blood of one species. And so, though tigers, bobcats and panthers had all figured in his genetic makeup, he contained none of the ancient blood of the dragons, the Beorn, the dire wolf. And certainly no trace of dogs or any common domestic creature. His family had worked for generations at perfecting its genes, and Crow was as powerful a cat as could be imagined.

  In human form he was quiet, contemplative. Handsome, of course, with light brown eyes that shone yellow in the sunlight. His hair was sandy-brown, thick. And his shoulders were broad.

  Mace, on the other hand, came from bear stock. He was not of the line of what was known as the Beorn, the great bears who were legendary for their size and power, able even to take on dragons when necessary. Mace was a mere grizzly, like those who populated the North American forests. Large, though, hulking, alert. He wasn’t gifted with speed or mental acuity, but was ferocious when called upon to be. It was his loyalty that had prompted the Sorceress to ask Crow to include him in their partnership; here was a man who would always do as she demanded. And when he hesitated, she used sex to get him back on track. It was the one pleasure that Mace couldn’t resist: the sight of her naked body.

  But it was the Sorceress and Crow who now ran the Guild. Mace acted more as a thug, a kidnapper who forcefully abducted women from their homes. Theirs was a dictatorship run by the Sorceress and aided by Crow, though most Guild members rarely interacted with those two, who spent much of their time with their limbs entwined as they pleasured one another. The Sorceress wasn’t satisfied with fewer than three orgasms in a day from her mates.

  She occasionally called upon other, younger shifters, not yet come into their own powers, to help with assignments outside of the Guild’s compound. She wanted them to hone their instincts early so that when they performed the Ritual they would be all the more advanced.

  “Paxx and his brother are the most promising men that we have,” she told her mates, taking a sip of wine from the goblet in front of her. “Each of them is strong, large, and has the potential to be incredibly loyal. Phist is more volatile than his older brother, so the key is to get Paxx mated first, to settle him. Only then will his brother calm down.”

  The Sorceress, still unaccustomed to shifters, was as yet unaware of the species of the brothers’
déors. Both brothers said that their families had given up Rituals a few generations back, and no record had followed them across the ocean. So it was a waiting game. But when these men mated, no doubt they would end up mighty and important members of the Guild. They would make fine leaders for the western counties, and fine allies in the fights to come.

  Among the Sorceress’s gifts, besides the ability to assess another person’s intentions, was a gift for persuasion. And thus far she had managed to convince the young men to do her bidding, just as she’d convinced her mates to perform the Ritual with her, despite a lack of emotional bond between them. The Sorceress was a user of others and unafraid to show it.

  And today she’d sent Paxx to run an errand for her: to attend a town meeting and to gather information about Salem’s concerns, to figure out what action needed to be taken. Most of all, she wanted to know if the time had come to move in on the Sisterhood.

  “He’ll be back soon,” she said, standing and pacing the length of the room.

  “I suppose he’ll be hearing about the hangings,” said Crow, laughing. “The latest about the hysteria that’s sweeping the land.”

  “Yes, well, I hope there are many hangings,” the Sorceress replied. “That’s what those women deserve for refusing the Ritual. What sort of sane female would turn down such an opportunity? It’s preposterous.”

  Their policy was to take the young women, holding them captive until they either agreed to the Ritual or refused. In the latter case they were turned over to the townspeople and accused of witchcraft, at which point they were held in Salem’s prisons to be tried. Some had attempted to report the Guild for their behaviour, throwing out allegations of sexual slavery. Those in Salem simply attributed the accusations to the women’s lunacy and the mass hysteria that they claimed was overtaking the female population.