An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
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Indigo Spell
ISBN # 9781419909795
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Indigo Spell Copyright© 2007 Rachel Carrington
Edited by Carole Genz.
Cover art by Syneca.
Electronic book Publication: March 2007
This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
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X – TREME
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The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This story has been rated S-ensuous.
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ensuous
love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.
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Indigo Spell
Rachel Carrington
Prologue
Three hundred years in the past in Mystique
Bravely facing the fire circling the floor at her feet, Charlemaine stood in front of the door to prevent her son’s escape. “Jaxon, you cannot do this. Your actions today could have ramifications that far extend the boundaries of our world. Even you cannot conceive the dangers you put yourself or this family in.”
Jaxon blinked his eyes toward the ring of flames and winced a little as the vaporous heat intensified. Power rippled beneath his skin, in his eyes. Closing in on two hundred years of age, he believed in himself, in his abilities. He had the power of the wizards behind him. His desire to control was strong and the need to break free of the barriers of his people threatened to overwhelm him. “Step away from the door, Mother. I would not want the flames to harm you.” As he spoke, the glow of orange and blue rose higher and licked closer to the silk of Charlemaine’s robe. He hoped she would back down.
“You will not use your powers against the woman who gave you life.” The booming voice had Jaxon whirling around, facing the stormy eyes of his father. “I have taught you better than that.” Blowing a blast of frigid moisture, Jensen snuffed the flames and pulled his wife to his side. “How dare you! You have no more sense than to place your own wants and needs above your own mother. The Assembly will call a Tribunal for this.” The older wizard shook with rage.
Jaxon lowered his hand but his muscles bunched, tensed, waiting for his father’s attack. “I have made plans for the evening. She does not wish me to go. I am no longer a child to be guided by my mother’s hand and she was never in any danger.” He saw the fear in his mother’s eyes, fear for what he was becoming, but Jaxon banked his guilt. The need for supremacy was stronger. It gnawed at him, demanded release. “Mother’s powers exceed mine. She was perfectly capable of extinguishing the flames. She placed herself in front of the door.”
Outside the stone walls of the citadel, the wind howled, kicked up a whirl of fog and angry clouds. As the fury blanketed the windows, the three wizards, tension coating their features, faced off. Parents against son in an age-old battle of wills.
“To save you from something even you don’t understand.” Jensen, his eyes glittering, strode back across the floor, the set of his face screaming his rage. “She knows what your plans are, Jaxon. Perhaps it is wise for you to listen to her.” He tapped his foot against polished marble, arms folded.
“And you have every intention of attempting to stop me if I do not agree. I have learned much in my few years, Father. Perhaps it would not be wise for you to oppose me.” False bravado and the compulsion of his friends overruled the wisdom Jaxon had not yet acquired.
Jensen’s shoulders swelled, his eyes boiled. “You insolent sap! How dare you assume that by means of your insufficient magic you could overpower me? I have been alive far longer than you have known of the universe’s existence. Your common sense is overshadowed by your raging need to rule. It is that need which will end with your demise. I would suggest you back down now before you make a mistake you will not be able to correct.”
Jaxon stood taller, a more muscular version of the man facing him. “That is assuming I am frightened by you.”
“Jensen, Jaxon, please.” Charlemaine’s graceful voice was lost on the two men locked in a heated battle of wills. She sailed across the floor, her ethereal beauty obscured by the dark shadows of night falling across the room. Even at the lateness of the hour, the gas lamps had not been lit. A simple task, it required only the measured look of a wizard’s eye, but the darkness was a welcome shroud to the female wizard. She did not want to see the anger on her husband’s face, the defiance on her son’s. “Think about what you are doing. Jensen, he is your son.”
“And he has stepped over the line.”
“Your lines are for fools,” Jaxon scoffed. “You and Mother, like sheep, follow the dictates of a ruler when your powers could very well equal his. Do you believe our leader to be so omnipotent that he is deserving of your fear?” He whirled around, pressed his opened palm against the rough-textured wall. “I will not be held under his boot. I will control my own life, follow my own destiny. If you cannot understand the reasons behind my desire to leave, at the very least, you should respect my decision.”
“How can I respect your decision when by your very actions you have proven yourself still an adolescent in need of his parents’ control?” Jensen took two steps toward his son, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
“I am not a child.” Jaxon hurled the words back at his father. “You yourself have told me a wizard has attained maturity when he reaches the age of two hundred.”
“I told you a wizard would be acknowledged as an adult at that age. Maturity is not an award for age, Jaxon. It is gained through wisdom and knowledge. It is obvious you have not acquired enough of either to assist you with your great plans to take over the world.”
Jaxon folded his arms, a perfect imitation of his father’s former stance. “And you think to teach me?”
At once, the door flew open, banged against the far wall. A hearty gust of wind billowed inside, pushing back the sweeping strands of Jaxon’s long, brown hair. Framed in the open doorway, steel gray hair swirling around his head, Falcon, leader of the Assembly of Wizards, stood proud and tall. His eyes swept over the scene, missed nothing. “No, I will teach you.” The words echoed against the walls, bounced around the air. “Jaxon, you will come with me.”
“I will not.” Jaxon stood his ground.
Charlemaine gasped. “Jaxon, you cannot oppose him. Falcon is the master wizard. Your powers are ineffectual against his.”
Jaxon refused to back down, to admit defeat. “We shall see.”
Falcon’s eyes twinkled. “I like your style, young Jaxon. I do not however care for your insolence. You will come with me. I can see I have been remiss in your training. We shall begin immediately.”
“I have plans,” Jaxon responded in a harsh tone of voice. “Plans that do not include sitting under your tutelage until you deign I am fit for proper service in the Assembly.”
Falcon waved a hand in the air and smiled. “Suddenly you are free for the evening. Your
human
,” his lips curled slightly at the word, “friends have conveniently forgotten you were to join them. In fact they have all developed a sudden desire to go home, to be with their families. Now that your plans have changed, you will come with me. And before you speak again, Jaxon, I should warn you I do not intend to repeat myself. You may walk with me like a man or—” he stopped, silver eyes settling on Charlemaine’s face, “Shall I complete the sentence in front of your mother?”
Anger burned the back of his throat. Jaxon wanted to lash out, to strike against those who meant well. For those were the same who did not understand him. Would never understand him. They were fools, settling for the small pieces of the world when, with their powers, they could have it all. That was his intention, to take, to rule, to win.
And Falcon must see it. That was why he was here now. He had to see Jaxon’s hunger for control, the need to dominate. And Jaxon couldn’t help but wonder if deep down inside the old wizard’s ancient heart, he felt a rippling of unease.
Falcon had witnessed firsthand the strength of Jaxon’s will, the power behind the whisper of his mind and he knew that, without control, Jaxon would be a formidable enemy. Perhaps that was what had led the elder here tonight—worry that one day Jaxon would become the stronger of the two.
“I’m waiting for your decision, Jaxon.”
Pride dictated he walk out of the room of his own free will. “I will go with you but do not think you have won.”
Falcon’s shoulders relaxed only slightly. “This is no battle. There are no winners or losers unless we give in to our greed.”
Jensen placed his hand on Falcon’s shoulder as Jaxon stepped out into the black night. “Tell me it isn’t too late.”
Falcon swept a look toward Jaxon’s broad shoulders. “There is always hope. We shall have to believe that the young wizard’s will can be harnessed, that he will not use the power of the wizards for evil.” He flicked the door shut behind him as he stepped out to join his young charge. “Now, Jaxon, shall we go?” He didn’t give the young man time to respond before he clamped a hand down on his shoulder and disintegrated into thin air, taking his reluctant protégé with him.