The Banshee's Desire - By Victoria Richards Page 0,1

hadn't kicked him out of your family."

"You have no right to lecture me about sons," Spark's voice was ice and his eyes narrowed. "At least my son wasn't responsible for creating a half banshee that destroyed half of Europe. Or have you forgotten about that?"

"Be careful Spark. Be very careful," the wizard warned. "You don’t want to upset me."

The walls of the castle shook and Jonathan Spark suddenly grabbed at his throat. His eyes bulged as he gasped for breath. Some unseen force choked him though there was little doubt where the force came from.

"Listen to me carefully. Circumstance may be different, but the end result is still the same. If Derek hadn't played a hand in Eric Huston's death, the half banshee wouldn't have been born. Your son did that, but you have a chance to right that wrong." The old wizard released his spell and Jonathan Spark gasped for air. "Bring me the half banshee. I'd hate to destroy such an unusual creature without really knowing what she can do for the Brotherhood."

Spark stared at the other wizard, a silent war of wills stretching between them. But in the end, it was Spark who acquiesced. With a nod, he sat down, rubbing at his neck and saying, "As you wish."

"And Jonathan, try not to piss her off. If there is one thing I've learned from my centuries on this planet, it's that women are more manageable when they're in a good mood."

Spark nodded.

"I also want your grandson, Spark. This mixed blood creature must be put down quickly. He has powers that we can't comprehend. Bring him to me so that I can kill him."

"And if his father is…resistant?"

"Do what you have to." The wizard looked at the only empty seat on the council and shook his head regretfully. "The time to play favorites is past. The creature is too great a threat."

Jonathan Spark smiled coldly.

"Consider it done".

****

Being able to see the mark of Death was a perk of Jacqueline Huston's new powers.

As she scanned the back room of Merlyn's Bar, she couldn't help but look for the tell tale hint of darkness which showed her who would be dying soon. A part of her shivered with anticipation over it even as she tried to stay focused in the here and now of playing pool with her best friend Angela.

The pool balls made a solid clink as Jacqueline's break ball rolled into them.

"Yes!" she whispered gleefully, watching the balls roll in all directions.

"Not bad." Angela frowned. "But I hate being stripes. It's bad luck or something. I never win when I'm stripes."

"Boo hoo," Jacqueline mocked, aiming at a solid red ball. "I'd feel sorry for you, but I don't."

"Sassy!" Angela smacked Jacqueline's butt as she walked by. "Don't make me angry. I would hate to throw down my wine and have to teach you a lesson."

"That would be alcohol abuse," Jacqueline said. "Toby wouldn't like it if you poured wine on his floor. He'd probably make you clean it up with your tongue or something."

They both looked over at Toby Williams, owner of Merlyn's Bar. Tall, sandy haired, and very well built, he managed to own the space with his sheer presence. He chatted casually with one of the regulars, throwing his head back to laugh at something that had been said. As if he knew the two ladies were watching him, Toby glanced over and winked one deep blue eye at Jacqueline.

"Damn, that man is smitten with you," Angela sighed appreciatively.

"I know." Jacqueline couldn't hide her grin of delight. "I'm pretty smitten with him, too."

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

Both women laughed.

"Seriously, Jackie," Angela said. "I'm really happy for you. You deserve someone nice like Toby."

Angela turned back to the pool table, but Jacqueline pondered her words.

Do I? Do I really deserve someone like Toby?

It was a question she asked herself at least once a week.

She never could come up with a satisfactory answer. There were odd thoughts brewing in her lately, thoughts about death and chaos that had never been there before. It seemed the anniversary of her husband's death four months ago had awoken more than just her latent banshee abilities.

It had awoken the need to create death.

Several times in the last few months, she'd caught herself watching the flicker of the soul in an innocent person, something only she could see, and wondered if she could just yank it out and have a little taste.

But that would mean death for the soul's owner.

How could Toby love her