Destiny Divided
Authors: Leia Shaw
| Destiny Divided |
| Shadows of Destiny [1] |
| Leia Shaw |
| (2011) |
"Pure power flooded her body flowing freely through her veins. She had just found an emotion stronger than anger and fear combined. Lust. And there was no containing her now."
After fleeing her native city — and nightmares of a traumatic childhood — Sage Peterson meets the overbearing, pretentious, yet haunted Professor Elias. He’s the only one who knows about her mysterious powers, which seem to be spiraling out of control. When he convinces her to train with him, she finds herself thrust into a five hundred year war and on the run from vampires, werewolves, and even worse — her budding feelings for James Elias.
James had been living a dull and empty existence for the past century and a half. When a fiery half-sorceress, half-witch with a stubborn streak and sharp wit enters his life, he sees her only as a potential weapon to use against his greatest enemy. But when he discovers the vulnerable woman beneath the angry mask, instinct screams to keep her safe. To protect and provide. And to claim her as his.
But will it be too late? As passion and lust ignite between them, vengeance is slipping away. And when Sage is confronted with fulfilling an unexpected destiny, will she choose to trust James with her heart?
Destiny Divided
Leia Shaw
Kindle
4th edition (e-book)
ISBN: 978-1467947039
Copyright 2011, 2013
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any except for the inclusion of brief quotations in review without written consent from the author.
Sage emptied the contents of her backpack onto a desk in
the basement of the school. Two phones, an MP3 player, and twenty bucks.
“
Not bad,” she said to herself and dumped her looted treasures into a shoebox.
She pulled out a wad of cash and
counted it. It still wasn’t enough for an apartment, even in the scummiest parts of town. She kicked the table in frustration. She’d been stealing, working, and saving for two months and she wasn’t even close.
Maybe if she
cut back on meals. At the reminder, her stomach growled. Would it really matter even if she had enough cash? There was no one to co-sign, no bank references. With her ripped up jeans, black tank top, and combat boots, she couldn’t pass for responsible adult if she tried.
If only the classes sh
e’d been sneaking into counted towards a degree. Hell, if class attendance was all it took, she’d have a fucking PhD.
Was it possible to forge a college degree?
She tucked the cash back into her jeans pocket then looked at the old metal filing cabinet that held her meager belongings.
“
If you’d stop buying books then you’d save more,” she scolded herself. Another sigh then she pulled on her faded gray button down janitor shirt. She hated arguing with herself. For once, she wished she had someone to argue with. Mostly she wished for Erin – her sister, though not by blood.
“Sage?”
Her boss’s voice boomed from above. “Are you down there?”
She shove
d the shoebox in the cabinet, closed the metal doors then snapped the padlock in place.
“You’re late again,” Tony said when she bounded up the stairs.
On the outside, Tony looked like he belonged in the mafia, but on the inside, he was a mushy teddy bear. He’d proven to be an ally Sage sorely needed. Once a week he would bring her home-cooked meals his wife had made. He knew she was struggling. It was that obvious. What she hoped he didn’t know was that she was living in the basement of the building they cleaned every night.
“Come on
, Tony, you need someone to keep you on your toes. Aren’t you glad it’s someone as charming as me?” She batted her eyes and gave her best angelic smile.
He grimaced.
Admittedly, there wasn’t much angelic about her.
Tony grumbled
something about hiring employees based on his “damned bleeding heart”, but he stopped short when he met her gaze. His forehead creased. “How are you doing today,
tesora
?”
“Just peachy
,” she answered in a perky tone. The acting class she’d snuck into was paying off. “Should I do the west side again?”
He sighed. “Sure.”
Tony disappeared into the supply closet. The sound of metal grating against metal made her shudder. He pushed her cleaning cart into the hallway. The one with the squeaky wheel. If she never heard that sound again, she would die a happy woman.
“Maybe if we’re fast tonight you can get some sleep bef
ore your first class,” he said. “What did you say you were taking Friday mornings?”
“Umm…Brit
ish Literature,” she lied. Tomorrow she would be at the pawn shop. Maybe she’d make it back in time for Mythology in the afternoon. She liked that class. And the professor wasn’t bad to look at.
“Have you eaten tonight, Sage?”
“Yes.” Another lie.
He appraised her with a long glance. “All right. Tomorrow my wife is
making Chicken Cacciatore. I’ll bring you leftovers.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it. I love your wi
fe’s cooking.” That was the truth. “Tell Isobel I said thank you.”
After Tony left for his side of
campus, Sage stared at the mop then the long empty hallway before her. She took a deep breath and held back a groan. No point complaining. It wouldn’t make it any better.
***
James had just finished a lecture on modern depictions of mythological creatures at the small liberal arts college in Eastern Massachusetts when he paused and peered around the room. Forty blank expressions stared through him. Two students had actually fallen asleep.
He sighed.
Americans.
Culture shock was long gone but he still
missed his home country of Wales. The rocky shorelines, the rolling hills, the people. His people. He’d been respected in Wales.
But now he was the subject of silly fem
ale crushes because of his “sexalicious” accent. Most people assumed he was British. At least they were close – Wales and England were neighbors. But on more than one occasion, a student had approached him and asked,
“Uh, dude, are you from Russia?”
He dismissed the class before he fed into the urge to rile them in a way that would ensure they never
slept in his class again. Giving students nightmares for life, though tempting, was below him.
A commotion in the hallway distracted him from his violent thoughts.
“Ms. Peterson, you will remain here while I call the police.” The Dean’s voice echoed outside the classroom.
Curious, he went to investigate.
The hallway was mostly empty. The two security guards standing stiffly with their hands on their hips must have discouraged nosy bystanders from lingering.
“Martin.
Julio,” the Dean said to the guards, “make sure she doesn’t leave. I’ll be back with my phone in a minute.”
The subject of
the ruckus was a slender brunette with a mutinous look on her face. She brandished a mop like a weapon, which explained the presence of the security guards. But she looked more like a scared kitten than a dangerous threat.
“Put the mop down, Kill Bill,” the overweight guard ordered.
She sucked in a sharp breath and gripped the mop tighter. The lights flickered.
James spared a glance at the
long florescent bulbs then continued to watch the scene.
Martin shrugged. “Must be a storm coming.”
The girl’s expression didn’t change. Her eyes were narrowed slits, focused only on the guards. Their attention shifted back to her.
“Come on,” Martin said. “Put the f
ucking mop down. Don’t make us taser you.”
James snorted. Campus Security didn’t carry tasers.
A soft, feminine growl erupted then the light behind the guards burst. They skirted out of the way as glass rained onto the floor.
“What the hell is going on?” Julio asked.
“Eh, weird shit always happens in this school,” Martin answered.
James took a step forward then
it hit him like a freight train. Magic. Powerful and raw, it rolled off the woman, barely contained. She was a supernatural. He could feel it in his bones.
“I’ve got the police on the phone now,” the Dean bellowed from the end of the hallway. “Professor Elias, what are you doing he
re?”
“Just leaving for the night,” he answered the Dean. “But since I’m here, is there anything I can do?”
“No, no.” He waved a dismissive hand. The other held his phone to his ear. “I’m on hold but the police should be arriving soon.”
“The police?
What has the girl done wrong to warrant an arrest?”
“She’s a janitor but we found her living in the school basement. There’s been a string of thefts we think she might be involved in. And she’s been sitting in on classes without being registered.”
Ah, so that was where he’d seen her.
If he remembered correctly, she’d been the only one who’d paid attention during the deities lecture in Mythology.
“Noth
ing for you to worry about,” the Dean said with a smile. “The police will take care of it.”
The police? The girl could barely control herself with the
threat of the security guards. Involving the police would turn into a disaster.
With a sigh, he steppe
d forward. “Actually, the girl,” he stopped himself and glanced at the name on her work badge, “Sage and I have a prior arrangement.”
The Dean’s brow furrowed
.
Sage’s jaw dropped
. “We do?”
He gave her a conspirator’s glare but kept his voice cool. “I ask you for leniency, sir. She’s only slept here a few nights while my other tenant moved out. You see, Sage and I just signed a contract. She will be renting a room from me.”
“Like hell I –”
“Hush,” he snapped with a sharp look. His tone commanded obedience and she obliged. By the look on her face it was a loathing obedience. He smiled at the Dean. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”
“But the police –”
“She’s not going any
where. I promise.” He gave the Dean a winning smile that always worked to soothe humans then strode toward Sage, assessing her body language as he got closer.
C
onfused, angry, willing to fight if pushed. He was already wondering if he’d regret this later.
With a
quick yank, he removed the mop from her hands. “Come with me.”
She looked at the Dean, still on the phone with the police, then at the guards blocking the only exit. With a loud exhale
, she nodded.
“
Smart girl.” He led her down the hallway, far enough out of hearing range but close enough not to worry the Dean.
“Who the hell are you?” she hi
ssed.
“Do you want to get arrested?”
“Why do you care?”
“It’s a simple yes or no question. Do you want to get arrested?”
Her lips tightened into a thin line and the lights flickered. “Fuck you.”
He stepped towards her then grinned when she stepped back.
For all her bravado, she was as insecure as a small child.
“I know what you are,” he whispered in her ear. “Come home with me and we’ll talk.”
Her eyes grew wide before she schooled her features. A guarded scowl aged her. She studied him, appraising him like a gazelle would a lion.
“It’s either that or spend
the night in county,” he added.
“What’s the catch?”
Typical American – always expecting to get screwed over. “Here are my terms. You come home with me tonight, answer my questions, get a good night’s sleep in my guest room and I’ll get you out of this mess. I’ll even buy you breakfast in the morning.”
“What kind of questions?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
She gave him a sideways glance.
“We don’t have time to agree on every detail, Sage. You’ll just have to trust me.”
A small smirk formed on the edge of her lips. It was such a con
trast to the cynical glares, it unnerved him. Was she scheming?
“Fine,” she answered flippantly. “But I want coffee with my breakfast.”
He had to bite back a laugh. Cornered and desperate yet she made demands? “Done.”
“
Strong
coffee.”
“Is there any other kind?”
She stuck out a hand. “Sage Peterson.”
He shook it. “James Elias.”