Winter's Fire Read online

  Winter’s Fire

  When a witch and a vampire meet by chance on a wintry street in Prague, desire and duty collide. Will they give in to their pull of attraction—or will duty keep them apart?

  **This novelette is a prequel / side story to the Descendants series by L.D. Hall and includes a sneak peek of Shadow Descendant, the first book in the series.**

  Winter's Fire

  A Descendants Novella

  L.D. Hall

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Shadow Descendant

  Also by L.D. Hall

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Casimir scowled at the sight of the flame-haired woman who’d just entered his line of sight. She had all the telltale signs of a vampire—ivory skin that was nearly translucent, preternatural beauty, and he’d caught a quick glimpse of her fangs. The vampire was focused on taking photos of her surroundings, unaware she was on the verge of getting herself killed.

  He stood at the edge of Charles Bridge; he’d been here all morning, hoping to catch sight of Gael Eriks, a witch he was keeping under surveillance. Casimir shivered; the chill of the winter day permeated every part of his skin, although he wore several layers, and despite the fact that he had performed several Warming spells.

  He’d just caught sight of Gael when the vampire made her appearance, stopping smack in the middle of the bridge to take several photos, genuine delight on her face as she took in Prague’s surrounding historical buildings.

  Casimir stiffened as Gael turned to survey Fiona; he was a member of the First Order of Witches, a group of witches that hated humans and vampires and wanted to see them all destroyed. Though they loathed humans, it was vampires that really drew their ire.

  Casimir cursed under his breath. He was a member of the Alliance, a group of vampires and witches who worked together to stop the Order. He was here in Prague on assignment for the Alliance. He was to track down Gael, find out what he was up to in the city, and report back. He wasn’t supposed to reveal himself; the leader of his group had given him strict orders to fly under the radar.

  But he couldn’t stand by and watch Gael harm the female vampire. She continued to be seem unaware of the danger she was in, moving to the edge of the bridge to take photos of the Vltava River, its waters glittering in the late afternoon sunlight. Gael was definitely studying her now, his eyes glittering with dark purpose. Goddamn it, Casimir thought with frustration. All Gael had to do was cast a Killing spell her way—or even worse, use his magic to hurl her off the bridge and into the icy waters below.

  The female vampire turned to leave the bridge, heading in his direction. Gael followed her. Casimir moved into her path; she was looking down at her camera, not paying attention to the path before her and nearly collided with him.

  “Oh,” she said, looking up, her eyes wide with surprise. An inappropriate jolt of desire went through him; she was even more lovely up close, her long red hair framed a heart shaped face with delicate features and bright green eyes.

  “Sorry,” she added, an attractive flush spreading across her cheeks. She had a slight Scottish brogue; it made her even more beautiful. Still smiling politely, she started to step around him. He sighed; there was no time to explain that she was in danger. Fortunately, a large group of tourists walked past them, temporarily concealing them from Gael’s view. Now was the time.

  He reached out to grip her arm, murmuring the words of the Apparation spell. The wind picked up around them, tugging them forward an into an invisible vortex.

  They arrived in a small alley tucked away in Prague’s Old Town neighborhood. The vampire stumbled back from him; her shyness gone, replaced by annoyance and anger.

  “You’re a witch,” she said with a heavy sigh. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I should have known. Why did you apparate us?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, “there was another witch on the bridge—and he wanted to hurt you, I could tell.” He decided not to offer any more information. Most vampires and witches knew of the Alliance, but not as many were aware of the Order. The Order’s existence wasn’t something the Alliance liked to advertise; widespread knowledge of the group would only cause panic, fear . . . and possible retaliation. “Just . . . be aware of your surroundings. And maybe stay away from that bridge for the next few hours.”

  He turned to head out of the alley, but her voice stopped him.

  “Hey.”

  Casimir turned back around to face her. She had crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow.

  “I’m going to need a little more information than that,” she said.

  “I told you exactly what happened,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. “Sorry I bothered you. Have a good day.”

  He had nearly made it to the end of the alley when she appeared in front of him. He almost jumped, and a wave of irritation swept over him. Damn vampires. Of all the things they could do, their speed freaked him out the most.

  “You’re a member of the Alliance, aren’t you?” she demanded, with narrowed eyes. “And I’m assuming that man—that witch—was a member of the Order?”

  So she did know.

  “Yes,” Casimir said apologetically. “So it’s best if —"

  “Bloody hell,” she muttered, “I come to Prague to escape your stupid war, enjoy the holidays, and I find myself in the middle of it.” She stiffened, glaring at him. “There aren’t many of you here, is there? There’s not some supernatural showdown going on in Prague?”

  Casimir frowned, annoyed. He didn’t like her insinuation—that the Alliance and the Order were somehow the same.

  “The last I checked, the Order wants to destroy all humans and vampires. The Alliance wants to stop them. If more of us are here—and as far as I know, I’m the only one on assignment here—it’s because we’re trying to stop them from hurting innocent people. I’m sorry I inconvenienced you, but you’d be thanking me if you knew what that witch was capable of.”

  He started to step around her, but the vampire’s expression softened.

  “You’re right,” she said, reaching out to grab his arm. He stiffened at her touch, another jolt of desire coursing through him. She mistook his reaction, dropping his arm. “It’s just—my father—my Maker, he’s a member of the Alliance, and the conflict with the Order is all he talks about. He wants me to stop traveling until the Order is contained.”

  “Who’s your Maker?” Casimir asked, curious.

  “Alaric Donatien.”

  He studied her, surprised. Alaric worked with his group back in London. He vaguely recalled Alaric’s mention of a daughter, but he hadn’t provided more details. Then again, Alaric was reticent when it came to sharing details about his personal life.

  “Do you know him?” Fiona asked, taking in Casimir’s startled expression.

  “Yes. We work together.”

  Fiona groaned, though a small smile tugged at her lips. “I’m going to sound like a rebellious teenager, but don’t tell him what happened. He’ll want to drag me back to England. And—thank you. For rescuing me from that witch.”

  Her smile widened, lighting up her entire face; it was contagious. He found himself returning her smile.

  “I won’t say a word,” he said.

  “It would be rude if I didn’t properly thank you for saving my life. Can I treat you to dinner?” she asked.

  She lowered her gaze to the ground, a faint blush staining her cheeks. He suspected she was not well-versed in asking men to dinner; the thought pleased him.

  But cold reality doused his pleasure. He wasn’t here to wine and dine beautiful va
mpires; he’d come here for a mission.

  “If you’re hesitating because you think vampires don’t enjoy human food, I’ll have you know that’s a gross stereotype,” she said, meeting his eyes, her own twinkling with amusement.

  He should say no and get back to his surveillance. Say no, Casimir.

  “I’d love to,” he replied.

  She rewarded him with that beautiful smile.

  “Tomorrow at 6?” she asked. “There’s a restaurant here in Old Town that I want to try. It’s called Strania. According to my guidebook . . .” she cleared her voice, making it sound like a tour guide’s, “it’s Italian but with many Czech influences.”

  “Sounds good,” he said, grinning. “I’ll meet you there.”

  “I’m Fiona, by the way,” she said, extending her hand.

  Fiona, he thought, as he took her hand, that now familiar ripple of desire flowing through him.

  “See you then,” she said, removing her hand from his. He watched as she disappeared into the crowds of tourists and holiday shoppers that crowded Old Town.

  He shook his head as if to clear it. What was he doing? His colleague back in London, Elias, managed to bed a woman on each assignment he was sent out on. Casimir had always scolded him, telling him he should focus on the task at hand. And here he was, about to go on a date when he should be focusing.

  But . . . he’d been unable to say no to her. He wanted to see her again.

  Casimir apparated back to Charles Bridge, but Gael was long gone. Damn it. Hopefully, Gael was still in the city. He couldn’t afford to lose this lead.

  Casimir returned to his hotel room, trying not to think about Fiona as he reviewed his surveillance footage of Gael. After closing his laptop, he moved over to his suitcase, digging up a photo he rarely let himself look at.

  It was a photo of his mother and sister, beaming at the camera. The photo had been taken only a few weeks before they’d died. A few weeks before they were murdered, he grimly reminded himself. The lightness he’d felt around Fiona dissipated; his family’s murder was the reason he’d chosen to work for the Alliance. He would allow himself this one date, this one dalliance, but his focus needed to remain on his mission.

  Chapter 2

  Why am I so nervous? Fiona wondered the next day, as she got ready for her outing with Casimir. She studied herself in the mirror; she wore blue jeans and a cream sweater. Her red hair was loose beneath her knit cap; she was makeup free, her only jewelry a pair of pearl earrings Alaric had given her the year before. But her appearance shouldn’t matter. This wasn’t an actual date; it was just a polite thank you dinner.

  But Fiona knew that wasn’t the truth. She was rarely attracted to male witches; the ones she’d met had regarded her with a vague suspicion, even though she knew they bedded vampires all the time. There was something . . . different about Casimir. Most good looking men—vampire, human, witch—were irritatingly aware of their good looks, but Casimir didn’t seem to be. In fact, he seemed a little shy. Fiona was used to slick vampires hitting on her, and Casimir’s shyness was refreshing. She’d asked him out without thinking, even though she wasn’t usually the type who’d ask a man out on a date. She kept to herself during her travels, focusing on the local sights rather than people.

  Her cell phone rang, and she started. She glanced down at her phone; it was Alaric.

  “I called you yesterday and you didn’t pick up,” Alaric said when she answered, his voice tinged with fatherly concern. “I was worried.”

  “I’m sorry,” Fiona said, “I left my phone in the hotel.”

  “Well, keep it on you. I’ve told you about the Order. They’ve increased in numbers—I’ve told you what they do to vampires.”

  Fiona bit her lip, wondering if she should just tell him about her run-in with Casimir and the witch on the bridge. But she decided against it; Alaric would insist she come back to England, and she didn’t feel like arguing with him.

  “I know. I’m being safe,” she said instead.

  “How much longer will you be in Prague?” Alaric asked. “I’ll feel better if you were here in England.”

  “I’m not involved in the fight with the Order,” Fiona said, suppressing a wave of irritation. “I love your estate, but I won’t live like I’m a prisoner. I came here to visit Prague around the holidays. Have you been?”

  “I have,” Alaric said, after a brief pause. “It’s one of the cities that was made for winters.”

  Wistful sadness shaped his tone, and she regretted asking him. Alaric didn’t like talking about his past; it was filled with darkness and tragedy.

  “Why don’t you take a break from the Alliance stuff?” Fiona asked, with a rush of spontaneity. “Come visit me. We haven’t had a proper holiday together in years.”

  “I would if I could,” he said. “But Madalena and the other leaders have me on the trail of some Order members here in London.”

  “Well, you stay safe too, OK?”

  “I can take care of myself,” Alaric said. “It’s you I worry about. I promised your father I’d look after you.”

  Fiona’s grip tightened on the cell phone as a wave of emotion swept over her. She’d been a vampire for over a century now; Alaric had turned her at the request of her human father after a vicious attack by thieves that killed him and nearly left her dead. She knew Alaric would never have turned her if her father hadn’t asked. His own early years as a vampire had been difficult, and he didn’t want to inflict such suffering on anyone else. But Fiona experienced none of the existential angst other newborn vampires went through. She’d taken to vampirism well; she loved her enhanced senses and the endless possibilities of living a long life. If anything, it seemed like she was meant to become a vampire. The blood part was admittedly her least favorite part of the whole deal, but she was content to consume animal blood; she’d never craved blood from humans.

  “I know,” Fiona said, “and I’m grateful. But I’m also a vampire—"

  “Whose not a fighter —"

  “Whose capable of taking care of herself. I know to leave Prague if there’s any type of danger,” Fiona said, with a stab of guilt. There was at least one witch from the Order here she was aware of thanks to Casimir; technically she should leave the city as a precaution. But she didn’t want fear to dictate her life.

  “Did you get the phone number I sent you?” Fiona asked, changing the subject. Alaric had a way of knowing when she wasn’t being truthful, and the sooner they stopped talking about the Order, the better.

  “I don’t need you to set me up,” Alaric said stubbornly.

  Fiona expelled a sigh. She had met a beautiful vampire a few weeks ago while traveling in Venice, one she thought would make an excellent match for Alaric, and she’d sent him her contact info. Besides some casual lovers, Alaric had been single the entire time she’d know him. If he had a love life, maybe he would ease up on the whole domineering father thing.

  “You should at least call her. Her name is Sandrine, and she—"

  “Fiona, I’ve told you —"

  “My duty is the Alliance,” Fiona said along with him, rolling her eyes. “OK, Dad. I have to go do some sightseeing. And yes, I’ll be careful. I love you.”

  Chapter 3

  Casimir stood waiting outside when she approached the restaurant, looking even more handsome than he had the day before, his blonde hair shone in the sunlight, and his silver eyes lit up at the sight of her. Her heart rate fluttered when he reached out to embrace her in greeting.

  They found a table in the back of the mostly empty restaurant.

  “You’re the expert,” he said, as they settled into their seats. “According to your trusty guide book, what’s good here?”

  She suggested the spicy linguine with clam sauce, and after the waiter took their order, Casimir studied her with curiosity.

  “Why did you come to visit Prague?” he asked.

  “It’s beautiful in the winter. When I was human, I dreamed of being able t
o travel and seeing cities like this. I used to go to the library of the estate where I—" she stopped herself with an embarrassed flush, shaking her head. “You don’t want to hear this.”

  “Actually, I do,” Casimir said, leaning back in his chair.

  “I would read about all these cities all over the world, and I was sad that I’d never see them. I was a servant’s daughter during my human years; that meant my future entailed being a servant and not a world traveler,” she said, with a sad smile. “When I died . . . " she hesitated. It was strange to talk about her human death; she kept it shuttered away in her mind.

  Casimir’s eyes softened with concern.

  “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t —"

  “No. It’s OK,” she said. “I died—violently. One of my last thoughts as a human was pure regret at not having seen the world. When Alaric brought me back as a vampire . . . it was like the entire world had awakened. I promised myself I would see everything the world had to offer.”

  “So you enjoy being a vampire?” Casimir asked.

  “I do,” Fiona said. “Do you enjoy being a witch?”

  But his eyes darkened, and he looked away.

  “Sometimes,” he said cryptically.

  A tense silence ensued, and Fiona bit her lip. She needed to shift gears.

  “How are you enjoying Prague?” she asked.

  Casimir relaxed, and he shot a regretful look outside one of the windows. A light snow had begun to fall, transforming the outside streets to a winter wonderland.

  “I’d enjoy it more if I weren’t working,” he said.

  “When do you have to get back to it? Your work for the Alliance?” she asked, a sudden idea seizing her.

  “I should be doing it now,” he hedged.