Wild Darkness

Lycia—a world on the other side of the Veil where large packs of shifters rule

Faine Leviathan—Lycian prince. Helena’s guard and mate.

Simon Leviathan—Lycian prince. Co-owner of Heart of Darkness. Mated to Lark Jaansen.

Leviathan—the name of the ruling pack in Lycia. Simon and Faine’s pack ruled by their oldest brother, Pere.

OTHERS:

Cade Warden—Werewolf. National Supreme Alpha.

Carlo Powers—Human. Runs PURITY.

Delilah Sperry—Werewolf. Senator. Romantically involved with Tosh Sato.

Franco Pendergast—Vampire. Spokesperson for Vampire Nation.

Gibson de La Vega—Jaguar shifter. Bringer (chief law enforcement officer) of de La Vega Jaguar Jamboree. Mate to Mia de La Vega.

Lex Warden—Werewolf. Alpha of Cascadia Werewolf Pack. Mate to Nina Warden.

The Magister—a being of old magicks. Nearly manifested in Chaos Burning. Stole the magick of thousands of Others worldwide. Was defeated by Meriel and Edwina Owen.

Marlon Hayes—Human. Senator who sides with PURITY and other hate groups.

Mia de La Vega—Jaguar shifter. Pilot used by the Others as they travel the country. Mate to Gibson de La Vega.

Nina Warden—Werewolf. Alpha of Cascadia Werewolf Pack. Mate to Lex Warden.

Toshio “Tosh” Sato—Human senator. Former JAG. Advocate and supporter of Others.

TERMS:

Alamah—means beloved in Lycian. Faine’s pet name for Helena.

The Font—the magickal bank where all the magick of a clan is held once it’s used and dissipated back to the collective. Any witch who is a member of that clan has access to the magick held there.

Heart of Darkness—a nightclub in Seattle owned by and catering to Others

Ne’est—Lycian word for key. It’s the name for a forever mate a Lycian takes.

PURITY—main anti-Other hate group. Run by Carlo Powers.

The Veil—the wall between our reality and other realities where the Fae and Lycians live.

Turn the page for a sneak peek at the first Bound by Magick novel by Lauren Dane Heart of Darkness Available now from Berkley Sensation!

Chapter 1

MERIEL sat, taking notes as her mother spoke from the head of the table. The pale, late autumn light spilled through the windows of the seemingly normal conference room, casting shadows on the far wall. The tastefully expensive clock and nondescript black-and-white framed photos made the space look like a law firm instead of the headquarters of a witches’ clan. A boring, non-offensive space that seemed to lack any point of view at all. This was most likely a deliberate choice, but Meriel thought pretending not to have a POV when you were someone as opinionated as Edwina Owen was absurd. But it wasn’t her place to make decorating choices. Not yet anyway.

So she sat in a moderately comfortable chair around an intentionally imposing table with the same fifteen people she’d spent her days with for as long as she could remember. How sucky was it that it was days like this that made her wish for law school again? What sort of whackadoo actually missed law school? But in law school when she excelled, it was without the context she carried in her life here. The next in line. The princess. Magickal royalty. Blah. There, she’d just been another overachiever struggling with the realities of being in a room full of people just as smart, and in many cases, smarter, than she was. That sort of bumpy ride had been a novelty.

But this was her future and she took it seriously even if she had a stack of other things to do at the moment. Meriel really didn’t have the time for this assignment, but Clan Owen’s investigator, who also happened to be Meriel’s best friend, Nell, was still out on her honeymoon and wouldn’t be back for another few days.

Really, Gage, who was Nell’s second-in-command, would be a fine substitute. But as far as Edwina Owen was concerned, as the next in line to run Clan Owen, Meriel was expected to pick up the slack when necessary. Rather like working in the mail room or running the copiers, it trained in the overall running of the clan.

Whatever, at least she’d get out of her house for the evening instead of sitting around reading legal briefs or ordering a movie on demand and eating too many spring rolls. Mmmm, spring rolls . . .

The lull in sound meant her mother probably expected an answer and it was time to pay attention instead of thinking about fried carby goodness.

She sat, back straight, and met her mother’s eyes. “I have the file. Nell briefed me before she left. I’ll head to the club tonight to see for myself what’s going on.” She continued to hold her mother’s gaze. It wouldn’t do to show Edwina Owen, the leader of Clan Owen, any weakness. Some predators ate their babies, Meriel knew. She’d actually said that to her mother once. Her mother had replied, “Then you should never give me a reason to do that.” Not really warm and fuzzy, Meriel’s mother.

“Take Gage with you.” It wasn’t a request. Very little of what Edwina said ever was. In this case, as was most often the fact, she was right. It wasn’t like Meriel was unused to having guards with her. She wasn’t helpless, but she had no problem having an expert on the job with her.

“I’ll be picking Meriel up this evening at ten,” Gage spoke from his place near the door.

Edwina looked very pleased the whole world was following her command and Meriel fought the smile edging the corners of her mouth.

“Excellent. Brief me in the morning then.” Edwina dismissed her with the flick of her fingers. Meriel gladly took her up on it and got out of the room as quickly as possible.

“She scares me,” Gage said as she passed him in the hall on her way to her office. She totally did not look at his butt or the way the denim was faded in all the right places. That would be wrong. Heh.

Meriel, who was not having nasty fantasies about a coworker, tried to emanate total professionalism for about five seconds before she simply rolled her eyes. “Whatever. She wants you to be scared, she likes it. Gets off on it even. Some men like that. My dad for instance and I don’t know why I brought that up because, um, ew.” She shook her head to dislodge that thought. Oh yeah, Gage’s ass. She smiled at that much more appetizing mental image. “I’ll see you tonight then? So you can protect my honor and stuff?”

He grinned. “Your stuff is awesome and I’m sure you can protect it yourself. But yes, I’ll be there with bells on. Or not with bells, that would be noisy and annoying, but I’ll be there.” He sauntered off and she snuck one last peek at his ass. She wasn’t a saint after all. It was a spectacular ass and, like any great work of art, should be admired. It was her sacred duty as an American. And stuff.

* * *

EFFICIENTLY, she made her way through the office to her side of the building. Clan Owen’s headquarters took up the entire thirtieth floor of a high-rise in downtown Seattle. They were much like any other business, with a secretarial pool, legal department, accountants, sales reps even. Only their employees were all witches.

Twelve generations of Owen women had run the clan. The first Owen witches came to California in 1847. They’d come a long way from the dry-goods stores and illegal booze operations that had given them their first