provided her with a warm coat. Before
she could protest, he held his hand up. “We are just borrowing him for the
ride. When we get there, he can hop off and go wherever he wants.”
When they reached the bike he un-cuffed her wrist with the wave of his
hand, “Get on.” he ordered. Having to pull her dress up around her thighs again
in order to straddle the bike, she felt her face heat. She noticed him look
away, occupying himself with the bike’s mechanics. Once she was seated, he turned
the engine on then kicked up the stand. Giselle felt the animosity he had toward
her. But why?
As the engine roared to life, he shouted to her over the noise. “My
name is Julien Beaumont. I would say it’s a pleasure, but you know I’d be
lying.” He spun the tires out and they were on their way. She pressed her
forehead to his back. Of course, it all made sense now. The
little girl from her vision. Angelique said her name was Beaumont. His
name is Beaumont. He must blame me. It is
my fault isn’t it?
Chapter Eleven
Simon Granvil , a traveler for decades, had
defeated many warlocks and conquered much evil. But nothing prepared him for
the onslaught of emotional pain he’d suffer by his unexpected assignment in New
Orleans. Jacques’ order made him question his desire to remain a traveler. The six-foot-five,
muscular traveler stood in the city he used to call home and decided this may
very well be his last assignment.
The very streets of the city, although different, brought him back to a
time when he’d enjoyed the most perfect love. His appearance was the same as when
he left, but he was wiser now, as he had roamed the earth for nearly one
hundred years. Always performing his duties with honor, it wasn’t until just
recently, he’d grown weary. He abhorred the modern day witch. They were too
sure of themselves for their own good. And his assignment this night was to
find one such witch, Desiree Mercier.
Ascending the steps to her living quarters, Simon was nonchalant. Told
this witch was impulsive in
nature, it made him strategic in his approach. But he was prepared to stop at
nothing to keep her from interfering with the tenth power. Desiree’s open door
made it obvious she was aware of his arrival. He narrowed his eyes as he
carefully entered, closing the door behind him without touching it. Studying
the beautiful, yet funny-looking witch before him, he quickly decided she was
far too independent and aggressive for his taste. She did not greet him, nor
lift her eyes to meet his. She stayed in position, palms up, head down.
Simon walked around her circle of protection, taking in the sight of
her. She had yet to move a muscle. Chuckling, he raised his arms, unraveling
her spell. Although it wasn’t difficult for him to do so, he was still
impressed with her impetuousness. Did she think she would win? Obviously, she is very young with much to
learn.
In an odd way, she reminded him of his beloved Aimee, who was taken by
a warlock decades before. Still bearing the scars of his battle with that warlock, Morianis , he freed Aimee’s soul, letting her fly to
the heavens. Comfortable wearing the scars as a reminder, Simon refused the
master’s offer to remove them. Hiding them from the world, his were the only
eyes to linger on the marks of his love. But at this moment, his scars stung.
Never had he felt such a sensation.
When the cautious young woman stirred, realizing her incantation had
been dissolved, a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. When she lifted her
eyes to his, his breath caught in his throat. He was immediately drawn to her. Clearly
she was his opposite, petite and curvaceous with an expression that forewarned
of a fiery character. He gently probed at her mind, but she prevented his
intrusion. For someone so young to block his mind thrust, Simon was impressed.
Continuing to circle her, he clasped his hands behind his back. Simon
possessed a dominant nature and very rarely did he speak with
she could protest, he held his hand up. “We are just borrowing him for the
ride. When we get there, he can hop off and go wherever he wants.”
When they reached the bike he un-cuffed her wrist with the wave of his
hand, “Get on.” he ordered. Having to pull her dress up around her thighs again
in order to straddle the bike, she felt her face heat. She noticed him look
away, occupying himself with the bike’s mechanics. Once she was seated, he turned
the engine on then kicked up the stand. Giselle felt the animosity he had toward
her. But why?
As the engine roared to life, he shouted to her over the noise. “My
name is Julien Beaumont. I would say it’s a pleasure, but you know I’d be
lying.” He spun the tires out and they were on their way. She pressed her
forehead to his back. Of course, it all made sense now. The
little girl from her vision. Angelique said her name was Beaumont. His
name is Beaumont. He must blame me. It is
my fault isn’t it?
Chapter Eleven
Simon Granvil , a traveler for decades, had
defeated many warlocks and conquered much evil. But nothing prepared him for
the onslaught of emotional pain he’d suffer by his unexpected assignment in New
Orleans. Jacques’ order made him question his desire to remain a traveler. The six-foot-five,
muscular traveler stood in the city he used to call home and decided this may
very well be his last assignment.
The very streets of the city, although different, brought him back to a
time when he’d enjoyed the most perfect love. His appearance was the same as when
he left, but he was wiser now, as he had roamed the earth for nearly one
hundred years. Always performing his duties with honor, it wasn’t until just
recently, he’d grown weary. He abhorred the modern day witch. They were too
sure of themselves for their own good. And his assignment this night was to
find one such witch, Desiree Mercier.
Ascending the steps to her living quarters, Simon was nonchalant. Told
this witch was impulsive in
nature, it made him strategic in his approach. But he was prepared to stop at
nothing to keep her from interfering with the tenth power. Desiree’s open door
made it obvious she was aware of his arrival. He narrowed his eyes as he
carefully entered, closing the door behind him without touching it. Studying
the beautiful, yet funny-looking witch before him, he quickly decided she was
far too independent and aggressive for his taste. She did not greet him, nor
lift her eyes to meet his. She stayed in position, palms up, head down.
Simon walked around her circle of protection, taking in the sight of
her. She had yet to move a muscle. Chuckling, he raised his arms, unraveling
her spell. Although it wasn’t difficult for him to do so, he was still
impressed with her impetuousness. Did she think she would win? Obviously, she is very young with much to
learn.
In an odd way, she reminded him of his beloved Aimee, who was taken by
a warlock decades before. Still bearing the scars of his battle with that warlock, Morianis , he freed Aimee’s soul, letting her fly to
the heavens. Comfortable wearing the scars as a reminder, Simon refused the
master’s offer to remove them. Hiding them from the world, his were the only
eyes to linger on the marks of his love. But at this moment, his scars stung.
Never had he felt such a sensation.
When the cautious young woman stirred, realizing her incantation had
been dissolved, a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. When she lifted her
eyes to his, his breath caught in his throat. He was immediately drawn to her. Clearly
she was his opposite, petite and curvaceous with an expression that forewarned
of a fiery character. He gently probed at her mind, but she prevented his
intrusion. For someone so young to block his mind thrust, Simon was impressed.
Continuing to circle her, he clasped his hands behind his back. Simon
possessed a dominant nature and very rarely did he speak with
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