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“Can we ever stop being agents?” Jack asked suddenly. “Truly?”
Lark froze, her lips millimeters from his. “Why not?”
“I never know what’s real with you.”
Slowly, Lark tipped her chin to see his face. Jack’s expression—or what she could see of it—was thoughtful. The shades had to go. Sliding upward, she pulled off his sunglasses and kissed him.
The effect was instant. His fingers tangled in her hair, drawing her close. Lark’s pulse began to pound, a giddy pleasure tingling through her body. The warm electricity coursing in her veins found a home low in her belly at the same time his fingers slid beneath her shirt, seeking out the lacy edges of her bra. Her fingers curled in the soft cotton of his sweater, gathering bunches of the fabric as she leaned in, savoring his flavor.
“Does it feel like I’m seducing you for nefarious reasons?” Jack asked.
“You’ve done it before.”
SHARON ASHWOOD is a novelist, desk jockey and enthusiast for the weird and spooky. She has an English literature degree but works as a finance geek. Interests include growing her to-be-read pile and playing with the toy graveyard on her desk. Sharon is the winner of the 2011 RITA® Award for Paranormal Romance. She lives in the Pacific Northwest and is owned by the Demon Lord of Kitty Badness.
Possessed by the Fallen
Sharon Ashwood
This is for those readers who have followed the Horsemen along with me.
I hope you’ve enjoyed the ride as much as I have!
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Alone we can do so little.
Together we can do so much.
—Helen Keller
Prologue
Fairy tales often begin with humans making foolish choices, and this is no exception.
Long ago, three princes lived in a kingdom on the north shore of the Mediterranean Sea: Vidon, Marcari and their youngest brother, known as Silverhand. The best of the three, Silverhand became a knight and went to the Holy Land during the first war of the Crusades.
In time, he returned with a fortune in gems, planning to share it with his brothers. Unexpectedly—or perhaps not—Silverhand was murdered as he slept and the treasure was stolen. Vidon and Marcari quickly accused one another of the crime and so began a war between brothers that split the country in two.
It was not just a war of humans—the brothers dragged the Night World into their affairs. The Dark Fey fought for Vidon, the Light Fey for Marcari. Vampires and werewolves also did battle for one side or the other, and the slaughter was epic.
Vidon blamed the carnage on the supernatural creatures, even though he had himself enlisted their aid. He demanded his knights swear vengeance upon them, and so Vidon’s realm became a nation of slayers.
However, Marcari took responsibility for his all-too-human greed. Recognizing his sense of honor, the vampires pledged him their service. They became La Compagnie des Morts, or the Company of the Dead. So it was that the Kingdom of Marcari became a refuge for the supernatural, who were forever hunted by their enemies, the Knights of Vidon.
But the one thing everyone could agree on was that the Dark Fey had to go. Under the leadership of their queen, they had committed crimes of war that sickened even the werewolves. A spell was cast to lock the Dark Queen and her people behind magical gates, and they were banished from the mortal realms forevermore.
Or not. You never know with fairies.
Fast forward to the present day when Crown Prince Kyle of Vidon proposed marriage to Princess Amelie, the only child of the reigning king of Marcari. Here, nine centuries and many, many generations later, was a chance for peace between the two nations.
Needless to say, the Dark Queen and her exiled clan were not invited to the wedding. In fact, most had forgotten she still lived.
That was not wise.
Manhattan Early May
“Enemy agents are coming to kill you,” Jack Anderson said, sarcasm leaking into his tone. “Do you think you might want some help with that?”
“Don’t exaggerate. It’s nothing I can’t