Regina in the Sun: Children of the Goddess Book 1 Read online

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  About the Author

  Look for these titles by R.G. Alexander

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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

  Macon GA 31201

  Regina in the Sun

  Copyright © 2008 by R. G. Alexander

  ISBN: 1-59998-924-7

  Edited by Bethany Morgan

  Cover by Anne Cain

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: April 2008

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  Regina in the Sun

  R. G. Alexander

  Dedication

  For Cookie—Love is the reason. And to my smutketeers, divas and deviants, especially Kristen. If she hadn’t let me into her “clan”, there would be no Regina. Last but never least—Beth—your support and belief can never be repaid. Thank you.

  Chapter One

  She was going to die.

  It wasn’t because of the Were following her, though he could have easily killed her several times over since she’d started running. It hadn’t taken Regina long to realize the sadistic jerk was simply enjoying the chase—toying with her like the weakened prey she had become.

  He was too cocky, confident that she couldn’t escape him, and she’d used that against him. He’d fallen behind and he’d never get to her in time. She was too close to her destination. She hoped.

  She raced through the night with inhuman speed. Only one of her own would notice that she wasn’t as swift as she should have been. The injuries she’d received a few weeks ago were slowing her down.

  Her wounds, the narrow cobblestone streets of the small English town—even the snow that fell wet and heavy from the sky barely fazed her as she passed. She had to reach safety soon. Sanctuary. Only then would she be able to rest.

  Reggie wanted to laugh at the irony. Here she was, running from one enemy directly into the arms of another. But this time it was the devil she didn’t know that seemed the safer bet.

  All she had to go on were the stories her sire, Elizabeth, would share whenever she was melancholy. Liz had lived near here with her husband until his brutal death at the hands of a pack of renegade Weres.

  The son of the sanctuary’s proprietor had helped Liz escape and get back on her feet after the terrible loss. She still talked about him with fondness, and Reggie could only hope he would aid her as well, even though she was Unborn.

  She slowed as she came upon a large grey building with no windows. A sign dangled over her head. Forming the shape of a black shield with a red lion rampant, the words “Ye Olde Haven Pub” were carved beneath the paws. Haven. That’s what Liz had called it. This must be the place.

  Regina took a deep breath and tried to steel her spine. She had heard of the intolerance, the dangers inherent in what she was about to do. She was an Unborn, created by another and not of pure, or Trueblood, lineage.

  Her entire clan was made up of the misfits of the Vampire world. All Unborn, mostly females, they had banded together to form their own community. It was a community based on tolerance, and the first place Reggie had ever been accepted for exactly who she was. The first place she’d felt safe. The Deva Clan was her family. That was why she had to do this.

  She was going to die. But before she did, she had to make sure her family would be protected from the demon on her tail. She had to find Lux Sariel. Had to plead with his father, the mediator for all the Trueblood clans, to put aside prejudice long enough to stop Les Loups De L’Ombre, The Shadow Wolves, from destroying everything she loved.

  The unassuming and plain exterior had fooled her into expecting the same inside. From what she could see, she could have been in the most exclusive club in New York, instead of a tiny, out of the way village in Norwich.

  The place was a wonder. She looked around slowly, the darkness of the pub a blessing to her kind. Softly lit sconces were placed strategically throughout the room, and small candles graced the center of each booth and table, but there was no garish lighting to spoil the mood or hurt the sensitive eyes of the pub’s unique clientele.

  Black leather booths framed the walls, leaving no one’s back vulnerable to the door in what she was sure was more for defense than decoration. The large room was separated into three sections by the different elevations of the dark wood flooring.

  From where she stood in the center doorway, one step up would take her to the majority of the booths, which had polished tables and plush seating and were wide enough for several people to comfortably recline. They faced a medium-sized dance floor looking up at a small, well-lit stage, currently occupied by a single musician playing acoustic guitar.

  To the left, a step down would take her to a small grouping of even wider booths that sat directly across from a very impressive-looking and well-stocked bar set against the far wall. The long, polished countertop was laced with ornate carvings etched in silver and gold. Several empty swivel stools lined the bar, leaving her a clear path to navigate.

  The pub gave off an air of luxurious elegance, though it felt neither cold nor intimidating. The warm tones and comfortable ambiance seemed to welcome her, drawing her in. She could see why the place was so popular with humans and Vampires alike.

  The decor was oddly familiar. The carvings on the crown molding that mirrored those on the bar and the pot-bellied stove in the corner reminded her of the main family room at Castle Deva. She wondered if Liz had done that on purpose. Reggie felt a wave of longing for the home she’d shared with the others of her clan on the shores of Lago Maggiore. She squashed down the feelings before they could consume her.

  Standing in the entryway between the two separated areas, she trembled with adrenaline and pain. Now that she was here, so close to achieving her goal, she felt the weeks of sleeplessness, hunger and fear crashing over her in a relentless wave that had her weaving on her feet.

  It was easy to sense the emotions of everyone in the crowded bar, the exact instant that they all realized an Unborn stranger had entered their territory. She walked as steadily as possible to the bar, her eyes straight ahead as she focused on the wary bartender.

  The musician on the stage kept playing, but Reggie knew that all eyes were turned her way as she ordered a shot of whiskey to warm her frozen limbs. She knocked it back before speaking to the bartender in what she hoped was a confident tone.

  “I need to speak to Lux Sariel.”

  The man stilled before nodding sharply, disappearing behind a panel door leading to the back. She closed her eyes and tried to quiet the turmoil in her mind.

  Suspicion, disbelief and the unmistakable feeling of malice bore down on her from all sides. Reggie use
d her unique abilities to block them all out, just as she had blocked out the worried thoughts of her clan when they had tried to find her, to help her.

  Blessed internal silence. At last. And then she recognized it.

  The music.

  The first smile to grace her face since this whole nightmare began curved her lips. The dark curly hair and large soulful eyes staring back at her from the stage were easily discernible. It was him. One of her favorite musicians.

  She didn’t stop to wonder how or why such a sought-after artist was playing solo in a pub filled with creatures of the night. Liz had once had Elvis himself to the castle to play for Madame Nicolette’s birthday. In fact, that was the year she’d decided to change her name to Lisa Marie, though that phase hadn’t lasted long.

  So Reggie didn’t question. She simply reveled in the sad and soulful voice, the haunting guitar that reminded her of lazy afternoons and peaceful evenings with her birth mother’s family. She sent out a silent mental request to the man on stage as the last few chords faded and, without hesitation, the notes of her favorite song began to fill the air.

  She walked towards the dance floor, a bit delirious from exhaustion and heedless of the surprised murmurs, and began to sway to the poignant melody.

  In her mind’s eye she was young again, free of pain as her grandmother taught her how to story-dance. That’s what she’d always called it. Daj Mia believed that every dance should tell a story.

  Reggie’s body instinctively followed the movements she’d learned so long ago, before she knew that a world beyond her human family’s tents existed. Before she knew that all the monsters and magick in her Daj’s fireside stories were real.

  Her hands rose above her head. Wrists and hips rolled smoothly as she twirled to the slow, sad ballad.

  The song told of a girl who didn’t seem to fit in the world. Lost in darkness and pain, the only freedom—only happiness she knew—was in the sun.

  The irony of the lyrics weren’t lost on Reggie. She was a Vampire, after all. And yet, it was nothing but the truth. The last true memories she had of love and laughter were brilliant with the light of day.

  As the words wove around her, she could almost believe she was dancing in the sun, could feel it on her face. Centuries of darkness were erased in a heartbeat. Lost in the magic of the song, she could feel the dew-filled grass beneath her thinly covered feet instead of the hard wood of the pub floor. It was her family’s laughing eyes, shining with support and approval, gazing at her as she swayed instead of the cold judgment of the strangers who watched her every move.

  The waif-like creature danced as if she were in another world. He realized she didn’t comprehend the effect she was having on her paralyzed audience. Several of his clientele stood, their intentions clear. They planned to remove the unwanted element from their midst, but something about the solitary dancer froze them in their tracks. A sadness they all recognized, a yearning some of them had never known and a sexuality that held them captive.

  He couldn’t tear his gaze away as her belly rolled and she arched her back, the movements beyond graceful, unknowingly sensual. Her hips jutted sharply left and right, body undulating like water.

  The air left his lungs, desire racing through his limbs, weighing them down. Her waist-length blue-black tresses swept the floor as her neck rolled forward. She reached up once more, her face glowing with some inner light as she embraced a vision only she could see.

  She was mesmerizing.

  The beauty fell to her knees, back lowering until it touched the floor as the final words to the song echoed through the silent room.

  It was then that he noticed her haggard appearance. The torn clothing, the scrapes covering her arms and the extreme pallor of her skin made his gut clench.

  A tear fell unchecked down her cheek. He tensed as if to go to her, but his brother rushed past him to her side. Lux picked the girl up as if she were light as a feather and whispered softly in her ear. He joined them in time to hear the low, sultry voice tremble in response.

  “Elizab-eth said… Sanctu—” She passed out before she could finish the sentence.

  Lux looked up at him in surprise before holding the girl protectively closer.

  “Sanctuary, Zander. She’s asking for sanctuary.”

  The murmurs had picked up around them. He and his brother looked over the crowd, sensing the growing agitation. Those who had stood before seemed to have shaken themselves out of their hypnotic stupor, stepping forward as if to protest. Zander moved closer to his brother and the unconscious girl in his arms. “It’s the law. Sanctuary has been requested and cannot be refused.”

  Half the crowd nodded, intimidated by the large proprietor and still moved by the scene they’d just witnessed. The rest of them Zander ignored. Directing Lux towards his rooms and instructing the remaining employees to keep alert, he quickly followed the pair upstairs.

  His curiosity, his protective instincts, and something he wasn’t quite ready to name were all in overdrive as he thought of the beautiful, mysterious stranger in his brother’s arms. Who was she? And why did he have the feeling his life would never be the same?

  “Who is she?”

  Zander Sariel looked down at Lux. His younger brother sighed and ran his hands through his shoulder-length burgundy hair. “From what she said and the traces I’m sensing, I assume she’s one of Elizabeth’s. A member of the Deva Clan.”

  Zander felt his face twisting in a tired grimace as he realized what Lux was saying. Not just any Unborn, his little sleeping beauty belonged to Liz, the widow of one of his dearest friends, and a long-time pain in his ass.

  How many Truebloods had complained over the years about her growing clan of “dangerous” Unborns?

  That his people were a little pompous and paranoid was the understatement of the millennium. He didn’t share their opinions, but since taking his father’s place as glorified diplomat and Mediator a few hundred years before, he had to listen with objectivity. Regardless of his own beliefs.

  Zander knew Elizabeth well. Lux had helped her sire and husband, Malcolm, keep her hidden during their marriage. Zander had even helped his younger brother get her out of harm’s way with enough funds to last her several lifetimes after the tragedy of his old friend’s untimely death. He’d owed that to Malcolm.

  But he couldn’t ignore how Liz and her rash acts of vengeance and regular creation of new Unborns had affected the balance of his community. And now one of her “children” was lying on his bed, obviously wounded and publicly asking for help.

  “I’ll take full responsibility for her.” He heard Lux state quietly as he looked down at the fragile creature.

  She seemed so helpless, ethereal as a dream. Exactly the type the softhearted Lux had always felt compelled to protect. He placed a strong hand on Lux’s shoulder, drawing his brother’s gaze.

  “She’s mine.” He was startled by the sound of his own voice. “I mean—my responsibility. She asked for sanctuary. It’s mine to give.”

  He looked at her for a moment, sitting on the bed beside her to brush a wayward hair behind her ear. The strand was shocking silver against the black, strange to see in one of their kind, especially one so young.

  Though pale with pain and exhaustion, the girl was entrancing. Long lashes hid her eyes, but he recalled their exotic tilt and the glint of gold as she’d danced. Her face was narrow, almost feline, cheekbones sharp with dramatic hollows that could easily have been caused by hunger.

  An ebony-colored bindu marked her forehead, between elegantly arched brows. The symbol tickled the edges of his memory, but he was distracted as his gaze was drawn to her incredibly kissable mouth. The lower lip was fuller and kept her mouth in a perpetual pout, as if inviting him, even in sleep, to taste.

  Zander could sense the illness in her, regardless of his distraction, but he wasn’t sure of the cause. His usual calm seemed to abandon him as he felt some nameless emotion render him helpless.

  “What’s
wrong with her?” Zander watched intently as Lux, who sat on her other side, took her hand in his and closed his eyes. Whereas Zander had been trained from birth to take his father’s place as leader of his clan and Mediator of the Clan Trust, his younger brother had always been a natural healer, possessing so strong a gift that he’d been hand-picked by the High Priestess, Glynn Magriel, herself.

  The Healers were an ancient link to the long-forgotten past, rarely used and, many believed, no longer necessary in this day and age. Zander knew how important it had been to Lux, and he’d had the worst argument of his life with their father in an attempt to allow his brother to continue his apprenticeship before the decision had ultimately been made.

  Unfortunately, as a member of the prestigious Sariel family, Lux had been forced to leave his training and focus on the family business. As Zander’s second-in-command, he was given a higher status, respect and power in his community.

  It meant nothing to Lux, and Zander knew it, but his brother had agreed for his sake. Until he was mated and had a child of his own, insuring the continuation of the Mediator line, Lux’s presence would be required. The Trust had demanded that caveat from the powerful Sariels for generations.

  Vampire politics was a long way from the calling of Lux’s heart, but he had dealt with it fairly well, at least outwardly. He told Zander he took comfort in the knowledge that healing could be accomplished in many different ways.

  But Lux’s true healing abilities and knowledge would help this wounded beauty tonight. Zander had no idea why it meant so much to him. Still, he could not deny that it did.

  When Lux let go of her hand and began to unbutton her ragged blouse, Zander grabbed his wrist and glared.

  Lux rolled his eyes. “She’s injured. Someone used dark magick to mark her. It’s familiar, but I’m not sure why. It’s draining her life force and I have to find the entry point. You can leave if it’s too much for your puritanical sensibilities.”