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Written By: M.J. Spickett
Published by: Devine Destinies
ISBN #: 978-1-55487-466-8
Word Count:120000
Page Count: 440
Heat Level:
Price: $6.99
Available in: Adobe Acrobat, Palm DOC/iSolo, Microsoft Reader, Hiebook, HTML, Mobipocket, Rocket, Epub, Sony PDF, Sony LRF

    A dream gripped Eli.

    Duncan Porter sat in his wheelchair at the top of his condominium in London. Michael Sinclair stood next to him, eyeing the street far below. His face was a mixture of awe and remorse as he watched the people and cars passing by.

    Porter watched him carefully. He, too, seemed very remorseful, as if his plans had gone array. "Are you certain you wish to do this? I may not be able to reverse the process after it has begun."

    Michael smiled smoothly. "Of course, Mr. Porter. I understand there's no turning back."

    Porter licked his lower lip and gestured for Michael to kneel before him. The youth did so without question. Porter placed his fingers along his temples and began chanting softly.

    Eli couldn't make out the words, but was able to see the sudden changes in their auras. The holes that were in Michael's were filling in while Porter's was beginning to deteriorate.

    After a few moments, Michael pulled back, his hands gently covering Porter's. "How do you feel?" he asked.

    Porter was looking around as if caught in a trance. He blinked and looked at Michael. The elderly man smiled. "Different. It's not so noisy."

    "Are you sure this is what you want?"

    "Yes. Thank you."

    Michael stood and smiled. His whole aura was different, as if he was no longer the same person. "Good. We have a second chance of finding the Key."

    Porter only nodded and began eyeing the street below. "You'll find him. You have the power to help him."

    Michael was no longer looking at him, but at the starry night sky and the waxing moon. "I hope. Chaos's power is far stronger than I thought and he has learned to tap into it."

    Porter wheeled his chair closer to the edge. "You can do it. I've already seen the future."

    Michael glanced over his shoulder in confusion. His eyes widened as Porter suddenly pushed his chair over the edge.

    "Michael, no!"

    But it was too late for even magick to come to his aid. Michael fell to his knees at the edge and watched in horror as Duncan Porter slammed into the concrete below.

    However, it wasn't Porter's death that pulled at Eli. He had heard about the warlock's suicide months earlier. It was Michael's aura that drew him as he followed the older boy running down the stairs until he was outside cradling the warlock's broken body. It was no longer Michael Sinclair's it was--



    He turned his face away from the bright sunlight. An alluring soft purr made him smile. The urge to bury his face in his Familiar's soft fur pulled at him. But he couldn't wake up yet, he had to figure out why Michael's aura was so odd. It was right there at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring it to reality. What did Duncan do before killing himself?

    "Master Eli, wake up," Cleo's familiar deep voice called more urgently.

    Small paws tried shaking him. His arms were extremely heavy as he tried to roll over. He practically could not move them. That seemed odd, but he was willing to let it go for a few more hours of sleep.


    He moaned and hid his face under the blanket.

    "Elijah Hawke, get up now or so help me--"

    "All right, all right. I'm getting up," he murmured, forcing his eyes open. Cleo burrowed under the covers and was in his direct line of view. His bright teal eyes shone with a fear he had never seen in him before.

    Fear gripped him as he read his lifelong friend. The night before had not been part of the dream. Michael, Henry, everything. They were real. The weight he felt were the large heavy cuff and chains imprisoning him to the bed. His heart sank at this knowledge. But if Cleo was with him, what of the others? He tried sensing for Alexis and Miao, but found nothing. That meant very little. A spell could be used to shield them from him.

    Seeing his fear, Cleo rubbed his head affectionately under his chin. "Are you all right?"

    He wrapped his heavy arms around the small animal and drew him close. "I…Cleo. He…I…oh, Gods, I wish I knew." Swallowing the sob that threatened to overpower him, he petted the cat's head. "You? Are you okay?"

    "He cast a binding spell on me. I can't transform."

    The chains were long enough to let him sit up comfortably. They were thick and extremely heavy. A spell to increase his power would be the only way to break them, but that would not keep Michael and Henry out. Looking around, he lifted the heaviest pieces of furniture with his mind and piled them against both the bedroom and bathroom doors. That would not keep them out for long, but at least it would slow them down. Hopefully enough for him and Cleo to escape.

    That small use of magick almost drained him. He couldn't understand why. Telekinesis was one of his most natural gifts. It never tired him, but for some reason took more concentration than normal. He had to take a moment to gather his strength once more. He tried covering an unexpected yawn. "Why am I tiring so easy?" he asked Cleo. "It's like he just took my power. I feel so weak."

    "I don't know," Cleo confessed. He rubbed against him, offering what strength he could.

    Taking a deep breath, Eli cast a power spell. His strength increased, but not to the degree he had wanted. The chain barely budged when he pulled. Frustrated, he yanked harder, throwing his entire weight into it. The metal bit into the butt of his hands. He winced in pain, but continued pulling.

    "They've been charmed," Cleo muttered, stating the obvious. His ears perked and he gazed at the barricaded bedroom door. "Damn!"

    "What?" Eli grunted, pulling even harder. He braced a pain-filled foot against the headboard, and pulled even harder. Then he felt it. The aura he had felt the last few nights. It was a unique mix of Sinclair magick and something else. He could not help but stare at the door in fear. He could not remember ever feeling so much fear in his life. His body trembled against his will as he revealed this to his familiar. "Cleo?" he whispered ever so softly. "I'm really scared."

    Cleo nodded. "I am, too."

    The door handle jiggled, causing them both to jump despite themselves.

    On a trip back to his home country, Eli Hawke is betrayed by the one person he always thought he could depend on and captured by a rival magician believed dead. He is taken to a place where time moves much differently than normal. As if that’s not strange enough, he must come face to face with his own childhood horrors and his feelings for a man he once thought was his enemy. What do you do when friends suddenly become enemies and enemies become friends, and your own sanity comes into question? Even Eli’s friends and guardians may not be able to help him this time as his only ally is the spirit of his past incarnation.

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