Master of Smoke

create, and he’d declare war on the Magekind to get you back. Merlin created us to fight them—odds are, we’d kill them all!”
    A chill stole across her skin, but Miranda shook it off. “Oh, come on! Ninety percent of the Direkind don’t even believe he exists. They’re not going to go to war with Arthur just because some loony tune werewolf wizard says the word.”
    “Warlock’s not crazy. And you have no idea what he’s capable of, so don’t underestimate him. He’s got charisma, and our legends have turned him into a hero. The Direkind wouldn’t realize what he’s really like until it was too late. By then who knows how many people would have died on both sides? Is it worth all that just to keep you from a little—”
    “Rape?” Miranda gritted her teeth. “I’m not going to just lie down for whatever they’ve got in mind. I don’t care what kind of rationales you throw in my face or what kind of guilt trips you put me on. You don’t have the right to ask that of me.”
    Joelle thumped the steering wheel with a frustrated palm. “Miranda, it doesn’t have to be rape. You’re in your Burning Moon—if you don’t fight, it won’t be that bad.”
    “Yeah, Worthington said the same thing—which is when I stuck the knife in his brain. Listen to me, Mother: I am not going to submit. If I can find a way to escape, I’m going to take it. Now, you can go with me, or you can stay and keep being a victim. It’s your call.”
    “Don’t you understand—I’ve already tried that! Warlock found me, and it cost me ...” Tears glittered in her eyes. “God, what it cost me.”
    Miranda frowned at her. “When did you try to escape?”
    “When I was pregnant the first time.” As Miranda gaped in surprise, Joelle pulled the Volvo over onto the shoulder and parked there. Opening the door, the older woman got out and stood looking toward the moon as it rode over the trees like a white ship sailing through the clouds. Finally she started into the woods, her steps slow and weary.
    Miranda followed her. “You never mentioned you’d been pregnant before. What happened?”
    “It wasn’t rape that first time.” Joelle pushed a tree limb out of the way and continued into the thick brush. “I thought I was in love with him.” She laughed in a bitter bark. “He really had me fooled.”
    Gaping, Miranda stared at her mother’s back. “You were in love with Warlock?”
    “I was young, and he was handsome and powerful and immortal.” Joelle stopped, turning her face up. A shaft of moonlight lit her skin and painted silver reflections in her eyes. “I was so flattered that he wanted me. Of all the women of the Chosen, he picked me as the mother of his child. He said I had the perfect bloodline.”
    “What happened?”
    She shrugged. “I made him angry. I don’t remember what I did now—it could have been anything. It’s easy to make Warlock angry. Anyway, he beat me. Very, very carefully, mostly in the face, since I was seven months pregnant at the time, and he didn’t want to hurt the baby. So I ran away.”
    Miranda swallowed. “He found you.”
    “Oh, yes. He has extensive resources even aside from magic. It took him less than forty-eight hours to track me down. That time when he beat me, he wasn’t so careful. I lost Mary Catherine.”
    Miranda winced. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
    “The next time he took me, it was rape.” She pushed her hair out of her face, and Miranda saw a tear paint a glittering trail down her face. “After that, he told my parents he’d found a husband for me. Of course, they made no protest. They were as frightened of him as I was.”
    “You never tried to escape again?”
    “And watch you die as Mary Catherine had?” She shook her head. “Miranda, you can’t fight men like Warlock and Gerald. They’re ruthless, and they know what your vulnerabilities are. The only hope you have is submission, because that’s the only way nobody dies.”
    “But, Mom—why didn’t you tell me this before?”
    Joelle gave her another weary glance. “Because I knew it wouldn’t do any good. And I was—” She blew out a breath. “I was ashamed Warlock had played me for a fool. He never loved me any more than Gerald does. Besides, telling you this story changes nothing. Does it?”
    Miranda bit her lip, but she couldn’t lie. “No. In the end ... no.”
    Joelle smiled sadly. “I didn’t think so. Come, I need to get you home. Gerald is probably impatient for his