Page 6 of Lunar Diamonds (Celestial Magic #1)

RILEY

A diamond.

Pretty diamond full of moonlight.

“The moon’s in my hand.”

Muffled voices. Shouting. Stomping.

I clutched the diamond ring so tightly. My treasure. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Tears. Screaming. I hid under the dining table, protecting the moon. Too young to be listening to the collapse of my parents’ marriage.

Moon…

Moon…

Moon…

I came to in the back of a car full of moonlight, laid out on the back seat, staring at the fabric ceiling. My throat hurt, a sharp scratching following every swallow. Slowly, I sat up, my temples throbbing, my eyes full of grit.

Drake occupied the driver’s seat, the blonde woman in the other.

What the hell happened?

The vehicle bumped, speeding down a country road. I grabbed the back of Drake’s seat, my stomach lurching.

Couldn’t he slow down?

“You’re awake,” he said.

I met his gaze in the rearview mirror, offering him my best scowl. “Arsehole.”

He didn’t react.

“Fucking rude,” the woman countered, turning to face me.

Wow. The sharpness of that bob could cut glass.

“What’s going on?” I asked, noticing the doors were all locked.

Dammit.

Drake’s eyes were back on the road, cat apparently holding his tongue.

Lucky cat.

What I saw of his face was unreadable. It didn’t change his hot guy status, but certainly tempered it.

“Keep your mouth shut.” The woman’s lips curled into a nasty smirk, drawing my attention away from him.

A lovely answer. “Well?” I decided to ignore her, directing my question to Drake.

His eyes flicked to mine in the mirror again. “Be quiet.”

“Piss off!” I spat, wincing at the pain in my throat.

The woman raised a fist to me. “Say that again and I’ll break your fucking nose.”

I sank back into the seat, my eyes on the mirror. Drake didn’t look at me, slowing down to turn right at a crossroads.

The woman snickered. “You’re too hot to be a librarian.”

Judgmental much? Oh, let’s toss out some crappy stereotypes about librarians.

“Bet it’s boring as shit, eh?” she inquired.

Blue aura. Witch. Probably shadow. Her face bugged me. It was smug, mean, the kind of face suited for a knuckle sandwich.

“Well? Is it?” she pressed.

Did she give me permission to speak? “It’s not boring.”

She sniffed, smacking her lips. “You sound boring, so it must be.” She turned away, wriggling in her seat like a fidgety toddler. “Don’t matter now anyway.”

“Why?”

She laughed again. “Because your life’s about to change.”

Pointless asking how, really. She’d only throw it in my face.

Still, you can’t blame a guy for trying. “How so?”

“You’ll see.”

Vague answer.

My stomach churned, endless shivers passing through me.

I had to get away from these people.

I checked my bangle, the light blinking green. Thank Hecate. Now to figure out a plan of action.

Should be interesting. I was hardly a battle strategist, and the trip spell wouldn’t work here.

Damn. My kingdom for something explosive.

I tested the door handle to be sure. Locked.

The woman noticed, scowling. “Don’t even bother.”

I shrugged.

“And don’t shrug at me again if you wanna keep your nuts.”

Noted.

“Sit back and relax,” she drawled. “You’re on your way to…” She stopped herself from giving the game away. “Let’s play some tunes.”

“No.” Drake’s sharp response made me jump.

Her head snapped in his direction, her arms folding petulantly. “Why?”

“Because it’s distracting.”

I glanced at the mirror, his attention on the road.

“Dickhead,” the woman seethed. “You’re telling me no?”

He didn’t answer, his knuckles white from his firm grip of the steering wheel.

She leaned forward. “What’s this road?”

“Don’t worry so much,” Drake said. I shivered under the dark richness in his voice. But also noticed a tightness, as if he were straining against something.

He looked at me for all of a second, then slowed down, pulling up onto the side of the road. The passenger window scraped a hedge, the car coming to a stop at a tilted angle.

“What are you doing?” The woman faced him, her scowl hotter than Drake’s jawline.

Drake switched off the engine, twisting to face her. “Taking a break.”

“Did I say you could take a break?”

“No.”

“Then start the engine. My dad won’t be happy if we’re late.”

Her dad? Who the hell was she?

My nerves were on a razor’s edge. I kept quiet, watching the scene play out.

“I’m taking a break.” Drake spoke with indifference.

“And I’m telling you to move the car. Now. Or I’ll make sure you lose an eye before sunrise.” She paused, glancing about. “Where are we? This isn’t the right way. I knew I should’ve driven.”

“Taking a break,” Drake answered robotically.

The woman pointed a finger in his face. “If you say that one more time.”

I noticed her lack of bangle, making her a shadow witch.

Dammit.

Now that Drake’s shirt sleeves were rolled up, I saw he didn’t have a bangle either. Instead, he wore a gold watch with a blue clockface—the mark of a scrying witch.

Wow.

Witch bangles didn’t work on scrying witches seeing as they only possessed one power, and neither did the injection. So, they were made to wear those watches as a label, but not a tracker. They operated outside of the regular rules, much to the High Coven’s annoyance, and were difficult to control. They were proper rogues. Morally gray, even. Scrying witches had been known to work for everyone at the right price.

Oh. My. Goodness. The odds of meeting a scrying witch were low, like seeing a snow leopard on the London Underground. Well, maybe not that low, but certainly rare.

Special, I thought.

I nibbled on my bottom lip, shuffling in my seat.

Let me out of this damn car.

The woman’s hands lit up with blue magical energy threaded with wisps of black. “Drive. Now.”

The moment she released the shadow spell, she’d ping on the High Coven’s radar. Unless she’d guzzled a cloaking potion, which would likely be the case.

Drake sighed, returning to his driving position. What? No more sparring?

Mental note: Swear off men forever.

Screw that.

New mental note: Trust my instincts more and don’t swear off men.

I mean, I wasn’t dead.

“Five seconds,” the woman warned.

Her eyes were the meanest I’d ever seen.

“Four. Three. Tw?—”

“Have a sweet and calm down,” he said, tossing her a purple candy.

She snatched it from the air. “Is this the stuff I like?”

“Yes.”

Her mood changed, her lips parting with a sensual moan. “Aw, cheers.” She sucked on it nosily, biting down, moaning with pleasure.

“Enjoying that?” he asked.

She froze, shock all over her face. Her eyelids drooped. “You…” She swallowed, yawned, and went limp, sliding down the chair into an awkward position.

Out cold.

“She’ll be out for a while,” Drake said, turning to face me.

I just want my bed…

Drake’s eyes flashed, boring into me. “We have to move.” He fished something from her coat pocket. A ring. My ring.

I grabbed my finger. “What the hell? Who… Why does she have that?”

He slipped it into his pocket. “Because she knows who you are.”

I blinked at him, too confused and afraid to speak. My throat closed up, my chest as tight as a snare drum.

“That is Rhianna Kingwood.”

My jaw hit the floor.

Rhianna Kingwood. As in the daughter of Marcus Kingwood, and granddaughter of Kane Kingwood. Two shadow witches at the top of the High Coven’s most wanted list. A twenty-million-pound bounty on their heads without there being any images of them—aside from photos of Marcus as a teenager.

I swallowed, my temples pulsing. “What… What does she want?”

“Marcus Kingwood wants you. Either dead or for something else I’m not sure.”

My poor brain, thoughts going wild like a ribbon caught in a cyclone. “I don’t…I don’t understand. Why would he want me?”

He cocked his head. “Because of who you are.”

“What do you mean?” I really should’ve stayed home.

He flung the driver’s door open, then quickly opened mine. “Come on.”

“But—”

“Move it!” he snapped.

I moved, sliding out of the door. He grabbed my arm as I stumbled, catapulting me back to that moment on Mystique Square where he’d been all dreamy with a hint of mystery.

Now he frightened me.

Kind of.

I shook him off me. “What happens now?”

“We get out of here. Follow me.”

I glanced back at the car. Rhianna Kingwood. What the actual hell?

“Is it safe to leave her alive?” I asked, hurrying after him along the dark country road.

Wow. Talk about power walk.

“No. But I can’t kill her. And neither can you. At least for now.” He pulled out his phone. I heard the dialing tone.

My bangle light still flashed green, ready to send him tripping into a ditch.

“I have Riley Aurora,” he said into his phone. “Never mind that now. I trust you can now track this device. Good. Pick us up as soon as possible. We’ll be moving, so don’t lose us.”

Riley Aurora? What? No. My name was Riley Croft. Aurora… Aurora was…

What the hell?

Moon. Sun. Star.

Drake pocketed his phone, picking up speed. “Come on. Faster.”

My head was spinning, a lone rollercoaster cart with no brakes.

He’d called me Riley Aurora.

Riley. Aurora.

“Why… Why did you…” I couldn’t finish, slowing to catch my breath.

He stopped, turning to face me. “We can’t stay here.”

What did he expect me to do after being hit with a sledge hammerer of revelation like that? Skip along singing showtunes?

“Aurora,” I managed.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Shit. You really have no idea?”

I shook my head, trembling. Okay, should I pass out now? “About what?”

He sighed. “Sorry. I should’ve been more delicate.” The sonorous Drake returned. He seemed genuinely apologetic, showing me a nugget of kindness.

I clenched my jaw, dread weighing heavily on my senses as my teeth began to grind.

Drake came closer. “You’re a son of House Aurora. The Moon. And you’re going to set me free.”