Careless Magic book 1

Prologue

Headlights lit up the dark living room as a black, unmarked sedan pulled into the driveway. A man sitting silently in the corner arm chair lifted his head from his fingertips and focused sharply on the late night visitor.

The man was used to hosting many guests, mostly dignitaries and officials sent on palace business. The guests would come and go with lots of pomp and circumstance, reminding the man that he was a servant. He was a servant, to the Monarchy, the palace, the King.

The guests would also come with lots of warning. The car parked out front came with no notice and it caused the man to focus. He wasn't afraid. He wasn't worried. He was just curious.

Standing up slowly, he felt the tingling of magic ignite in his blood. They couldn't disguise themselves, those that were like him. He could feel their presence before they were too close. Their similar magic, like a warning flare, always reminding him of whom he was, of whom he belonged to.

He expected the worst, the end to a too long life. The house he had made his home in recent years would be perfect for this tragic finale. An empty tomb holding centuries of memories, most of which he would have loved to forget. The expensive but empty house would be perfect to bid good-bye to this life. It felt like his over-lived existence: too large, too old and too empty.

He half wondered who they would send. He wondered who would be strong enough to finish the job no one previously had been able to finish. This time he wouldn't fight. He was tired of fighting. He was tired of victory. There was nothing left for him to win. The people he had believed in had let him down. The King he had expected the worst from hadn't. It was time to give up. Time to throw in the towel and let them destroy him; along with the cause he alone was defending. He was ready.

Finally, he was ready.

But as the magic moved towards the door, he was surprised to find it not threatening, but familiar, like an old magic, from an old friend. A friend from a different time and one that he had hoped to never meet again because he knew she must be desperate to brave this visit.

"Hello, Angelica," the man answered the door before the old woman could knock. Her long white hair glistened in the moonlight, and she returned his scowl with a gentle smile and sad violet eyes.

"Hello, Amory," Angelica's arms were full of something covered with blankets. She pushed past him; his tall, muscular frame took up most of the door way. The cold night of a winter turning into spring blew quietly into the house, but encouraged the man to shut the door quickly behind them.

Once the door was shut, Amory turned the lights on in the darkened house, planning to invite the woman in for the night. The house now lit, took on a different personality from before. What once felt like a stark and empty room was now warm and inviting with the soft glow of light. A simple burst of magic brought a roaring fire to life and warmed the room, as quickly as it was lit.

Angelica sat down on a large leather couch near the fire. Her arms were still full of blankets and her expression still sad.

"Let me take those from you," Amory offered, realizing Angelica looked frail and tired under her packages.

"I would love that," her face lit up just a little bit as Amory bent over to take the first bundle out of her right arm.

As his strong hands slipped underneath a blue blanket to lift the package from her, they stopped suddenly, paralyzed by the soft and warm body underneath. Pulling his hands away, he stared at her with fear in his eyes.

"What is this?" he asked, nearly choking on his words.

"Take a look for yourself," she nodded her head and encouraged him with tender eyes.