Mystic Warrior Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgements

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Twenty-six

  Twenty-seven

  Twenty-eight

  Twenty-nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-one

  Thirty-two

  Thirty-three

  Epilogue

  Teaser chapter

  Praise for the Novels of Patricia Rice

  Mystic Rider

  “Filled with history, romance, and passion . . . pulled me in and held me captive. . . . Ms. Rice makes the Revolution come alive. I can’t wait for the next installment in the amazing Mystic Isle series! I am hooked!”

  —Romance Reader at Heart

  “With whimsical and subtle touches of humor and memorable characters, [Rice] cleverly blends the paranormal with the historical events of the French Revolution in this passionate, very sensual romance. Her powerful voice and talent as a great storyteller make this one another keeper.”—Romantic Times (Top Pick, 4½ stars)

  “An enthralling tale that should not be missed.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  Mystic Guardian

  “Mystic Guardian will enchant readers.”

  —The Romance Readers Connection

  “Set against the background leading up to the French Revolution, Rice’s book boasts a pair of extraordinary characters. . . . Her flair for subtle touches of humor and clever dialogue . . . draws you into this magical, mystical, and sensual paranormal historical romance.”

  —Romantic Times (Top Pick, 4½ stars)

  “A fine, fresh series kickoff, Rice’s latest is passionate, rich in historical detail, and peopled with enough captivating secondary characters to pique readers’ curiosity for many volumes to come.”—Publishers Weekly

  “Charming, magical.”—Midwest Book Review

  Magic Man

  “Never slows down until the final thread is magically resolved. Patricia Rice is clearly the Magic Woman with this superb tale and magnificent series.”—Midwest Book Review

  Much Ado About Magic

  “The magical Rice takes Trev and Lucinda, along with her readers, on a passionate, sensual, and romantic adventure in this fast-paced, witty, poignant, and magical tale of love.”

  —Romantic Times (Top Pick, 4½ stars)

  This Magic Moment

  “Charming and immensely entertaining.”

  —Library Journal

  “Rice has a magical touch for creating fascinating plots, delicious romance, and delightful characters both flesh-and-blood and ectoplasmic.”—Booklist

  “Another delightful magical story brought to us by this talented author. It’s a fun read, romantic and sexy with enchanting characters.”—Rendezvous

  The Trouble with Magic

  “Rice is a marvelously talented author who skillfully combines pathos with humor in a stirring, sensual romance that shows the power of love is the most wondrous gift of all. Think of this memorable story as a present you can open again and again.”—Romantic Times (Top Pick, 4½ stars)

  “Rice’s third enchanting book about the Malcolm sisters is truly spellbinding.”—Booklist

  Must Be Magic

  “Very sensual.”—The Romance Reader

  “Rice has created a mystical masterpiece full of enchanting characters, a spellbinding plot, and the sweetest of romances.” —Booklist (Starred Review)

  “An engaging historical romance that uses a pinch of witchcraft to spice up [the] tale. . . . The story line mesmerizes. . . . Fans will believe that Patricia Rice must be magical as she spellbinds her audience with a one-sitting, fun novel.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “I love an impeccably researched, well-written tale, and Must Be Magic, which continues the saga of the Iveses and Malcolms, is about as good as it gets. I’m very pleased to give it a Perfect Ten, and I encourage everyone to pick up this terrific book.”—Romance Reviews Today

  Merely Magic

  “Simply enchanting! Patricia Rice, a master storyteller, weaves a spellbinding tale that’s passionate and powerful.”

  —Teresa Medeiros

  “Like Julie Garwood, Patricia Rice employs wicked wit and sizzling sensuality to turn the battles of the sexes into a magical romp.”—Mary Jo Putney

  “One of those tales that you pick up and can’t put down. . . . [Rice] is a gifted master storyteller: with Merely Magic she doesn’t disappoint. Brava!”—Midwest Book Review

  Other Historical Romances by Patricia Rice

  The Mystic Isle Series

  Mystic Guardian

  Mystic Rider

  The Magic Series

  Merely Magic

  Must Be Magic

  The Trouble with Magic

  This Magic Moment

  Much Ado About Magic

  Magic Man

  Other Titles

  All a Woman Wants

  SIGNET ECLIPSE

  Published by New American Library, a division of

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  First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  First Printing, July 2009

  Copyright © Rice Enterprises, Inc., 2009

  All rights reserved

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  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  eISBN : 978-1-101-05861-9

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  Acknowledgments

  Despite my whining, I’m grateful to my editor, Ellen Edwards, who provides the left brain for detail that my big-picture right brain desperately needs.

  And to my agent, Robin Rue, my gratitude for not laughing too hard when I say, “And now for my next act . . . ”

  And most of all, to my faithful readers who follow me anywhere, no matter how high I fly or how low I go. . . . If you’re the wind beneath my wings, these books are all your fault! You’ve spoiled me. Hugs.

  Prologue

  Aelynn, the Mystic Isle, 1789

  “Don’t touch me!” Lissandra Olympus commanded with the arrogance of a queen. Moonlit locks scraped back from her fair face, she stood tall and regal against the tropical forest, bestowing the same expression on Murdoch LeDroit as Eve may have on the serpent in her garden.

  As usual, Murdoch looked like a pirate. Barefoot, he dwarfed Lissandra’s willowy height. A swath of peat-dark hair curved across his unshaven jaw as if he’d just climbed, rumpled, from his bed. The sword held ready at his side belied his sleepy-eyed appearance.

  Only recently back from his long journey into the world beyond the Mystic Isle of Aelynn, he still wore the billowing shirtsleeves of the Other World that emphasized his muscular shoulders. He sported neither neckcloth nor waistcoat, so the ocean breeze was free to plaster the thin linen against his wide chest and reveal much of his sun-bronzed throat.

  His face—the dark-lashed, sea-smoke eyes narrowed with seductive intent, the amused twist of sculpted lips promising delectably sinful delights, the cheekbones honed to a knife’s lethal edge—caused women to swoon and men to scowl in wariness.

  Most women to swoon. Not Lissandra, the Oracle’s Daughter.

  Appearance didn’t matter on the Mystic Isle. Ability did. And because of her family’s reputation, Lissandra’s abilities were believed by Aelynners to be superior to those of a mere Agrarian upstart.

  Undeterred by anyone else’s beliefs, Murdoch was confident that he had more than proved his superiority—physical, mental, and supernatural. Both isle and woman were the prizes he intended to claim. Was destined to claim, although only he seemed certain of his ability to See the future.

  He’d been away at sea a long time, waiting for his princess to grow up. It was gratifying to recognize that the desire simmering between them had only increased with separation. She held him at arm’s length for good reason. The air crackled between them. He knew she curled her slender fingers into fists to prevent them from pushing his uncut hair out of his face as she had done countless times in the past.

  He and Lis had grown up together like puppies in the same litter. Adolescence had shown them how pleasurably the hot wind beneath her cool reserve could feed the flames of mutual lust. Learning the painful lessons of their unequal positions had halted their youthful experimentation. The difference in their ages had made him careful.

  But she had become a woman while he was gone, one who knew her own worth.

  He admired the way his princess held her ground, forcing him to step back, knowing he had not yet earned the right to touch her. He respected her ability to resist temptation, although life would be much simpler if she could accept his wisdom and let go of her inhibitions.

  His mouth quirked as he imagined the uninhibited Lis he’d once known. At his half smile, she retreated cautiously, increasing the gulf between them, depriving him of the fragile floral scent that belonged only to her.

  She wore her ethereally lovely silver-blond hair stacked high and caught up in a coronet of island pearls. A tropical breeze molded her white cotton sarong to her curves and long legs. The twilight shadows hid her eyes, but he’d seen the liquid blue of longing in them after he’d sailed his ship into port. Their desire was a tangible thing, but until tonight, he’d not been in a position to act upon it.

  Tonight, he meant to change their relationship.

  “I’m the only man who can touch you, Lis,” he reminded her with a laugh. “Your sharp tongue is no match for my rapier wit. My fire melts your frost. I’ve watched you weep when you’ve Seen a child’s impending death, and I know your suffering when you See that a man’s destiny lies beyond Aelynn. You are not your unfeeling mother, no matter how hard you try.”

  “Then I must keep trying, mustn’t I?” she answered coolly. “Your destiny remains as black as your heart. I will not doom Aelynn for your ambition.”

  It was an old argument, a verbal sword that had held him at bay since adolescence. They were adults now. The argument had lost its usefulness.

  “It is not ambition that makes me See that our world is limited and a new leader must change it. If I don’t act now, you will become as narrow-minded as our Oracle.” His voice softened. “You’re better than her, Lissy.”

  Without waiting for her defensive retort, Murdoch walked away. He didn’t want to take out his frustration on the woman who least deserved it, a woman as trapped by circumstances as he was. Tonight, by all the gods, that would change.

  Purpose pulsed beneath his skin as his instinct for Finding led him to the man he needed to confront—Luther Olympus, Lis’s father and the only father Murdoch had ever known. His own father had died before his birth. Murdoch’s lack of powerful parentage had created a barrier between him and Lissandra so immense that it would take a wizard of great genius to surmount it. He intended to be that genius.

  Luther stood on a rocky outcropping overlooking the black sand of Aelynn’s port, where Murdoch’s crew was preparing a feast to celebrate the success of their sailing venture into the Other World. Normally, Lis’s mother, their Oracle, would have blessed his ship’s safe return, but Dylys Olympus had found duties on the other side of the island.

  Lis’s mother knew what Murdoch was going to ask, and she did not approve.

  He respected the Oracle for her experience and knowledge, but though she had raised him, Dylys could never be his mother. He had a mother, one he’d been forced to abandon so he might learn from the mighty Olympians. But tonight . . .

  He was a free man, and he would have the prize promised by the gods.

  The Council Leader acknowledged his approach with a nod. “I hear you have already purchased land from Waylan’s father.”

  “Waylan isn’t interested in land, and his father has no other offspring. You know why I have purchased it, don’t you?”

  Years of responsibility had etched lines upon Luther’s face. He did not smile as he nodded. “I fear you expect more than you can command. It would be far better if you waited for my son, Ian, to choose a wife who can lead the Council. You and Lissandra are too young for the responsibility that comes with authority.”

  “You and Dylys have decades in the future to teach us. And it may come to pass that Ian is chosen by the gods, so you worry overmuch. I have worked hard to earn Lis’s hand. I have land now. I can join the Council. The only obstacle that remains is you. She will not go against your wishes.”

  Luther looked out over the waves lapping against the shore. “The only obstacle is you,” he said gently. “Your skills lie in war, not peace. This is a peaceful island. Instead of seeking compromise, you demand your own way, and your anger scorches the ground you walk.”

  “It is the anger of frustration. You know I would harm no one here. Would you have us wait until we are old and gray? There would be no chance of children to lead us into our future then.” Murdoch clenched his fingers into fists, and despite the ever-simmering turmoil beneath his skin, he forced himself to remain outwardly composed.

  “It is fo
r the sake of those children that I go against my instincts.” Luther studied the crowd gathering around the bonfire. “Take your seat on the Council, prove you can act responsibly, and I will allow you to court Lissandra.”

  Shocked at such an easy surrender, Murdoch staggered backward, nearly falling from his precarious perch on the rocks. Then, as joy washed over him, he pumped his fists into the air, safely dispersing the electricity of his angry frustration into the atmosphere.

  Worried glances turned their way. It was not unusual to see Murdoch and Luther arguing, or to see lightning sizzle in their vicinity. Aelynn’s inhabitants had learned the wisdom of staying a safe distance from the habitual explosion.

  “I would hug you, but it would be most unseemly.” Murdoch held back his laugh of relief as Luther regarded him with the dry fondness of approval.

  “You have not won her yet,” Luther warned. “Casting your lightning to the sky is a wise ploy, but it is still not proper control. You must practice restraining your powers when in the grip of strong emotion.”

  “Practice, I can do! Thank you, sir. I must oversee the celebrations. You will speak to my crew?”

  “As always,” Luther agreed.

  In afterthought, Murdoch realized asking Luther to speak was his first mistake.

  Purchasing fireworks in anticipation of his victory was his second.

  Underestimating Luther was his third, but not his most fatal one.