Table Of ContentTrinity Magic
Draped in a newly mortal form, Arleigh Donovan believes she
possesses the ability to kill men with love--a throwback to
roaming through centuries as a beautiful and powerful faery, the
Leanan sidhe.
When Ryder Kendall magically appears in a Caindale cottage on
Trinity Island, the enticing but lunatic stranger is the last thing
Arleigh needs.
Ryder offers a temptation almost impossible to resist, but
succumbing to her desires might kill him.
When Ryder's pulled out of the modern world and dropped into
1639, he finds the woman of his dreams, but Arleigh might be a
little crazy. Add into the mix an array of whimsical faeries, a
charismatic and dangerous rival who happens to be immortal,
kidnapped "nieces", and the everyday horrors of 1639, and
Ryder's got more problems than he can handle.
But his biggest problem is convincing the woman he loves she
won't kill him with sex.
Sensuality Rating: SCORCHING
Genre: Paranormal/Time Travel
Length: 135,232 words
TRINITY MAGIC
Amber Carlton
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
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Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in
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copyright owner of this book.
TRINITY MAGIC
Copyright © 2008 by Amber Carlton
E-book ISBN: 1-60601-254-1
First E-book Publication: January 2009
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2008 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or
photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written
permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to
actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
Printed in the U.S.A.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
DEDICATION
To Donna and Laurie, the other parts of my personal Trinity
To Kenny, who put up with the three of us
TRINITY MAGIC
AMBER CARLTON
Copyright © 2008
Prologue
Caindale Castle, Ireland
1235
A deafening boom echoed in the stone chamber, ricocheting through the
bower with the power of the most terrible thunderclap. Caitlyn’s head
snapped up. Trembling, she closed the manuscript. The candles sputtered
and the unmistakable odor of sulfur flooded her nostrils. Her stomach
lurched.
She glanced at her sisters. No reaction. Honora’s face pressed inches
from the codex she devoured with her eyes, and Fallon appeared to be day-
dreaming, her fingers caught in a strand of straight black hair. The
clamorous echo faded, and only the sounds of the crackling fire and Fallon’s
slipper tapping against the table leg drifted through the room.
Caitlyn reached across the table, closing the book in front of her oldest
sister. Fallon glanced up, the twirling motion of her finger still.
“Cait?”
“’Tis happened.”
Fallon straightened, riveted. “What didst thou hear?”
Caitlyn glanced toward the casement. What would create unnatural
thunder? She knew little of earthly turmoil, but she knew one who did.
Trinity Magic 7
She touched her sister’s shoulder. Honora jerked on the bench, tossed
dark tendrils of hair away from her face and blinked, her finger poised on
the line she’d been reading.
Caitlyn drew in a deep breath, her gaze on the dark sky beyond the
casement. “Be there any disturbances brewing? A thing to cause the air to
shudder with an impossible sound?”
Honora tilted her head. “Impossible?”
“’Twas a tremor that echoed and burst through my body, and after the
clap, a stench of sulfur, as though the bowels of the earth had opened and
the chamber had been swallowed by hell itself. Didst thou hear anything?
Smell anything?”
“An impossible sound,” Honora murmured. “’Tis happening.”
Her face drained of color, glistening with a pearly sheen, and she
pressed a shaking hand against her lips. Fallon rushed around the table and
pushed Honora’s head down, but her sister fought her, grabbing a piece of
parchment and reaching for the goose feather across the table.
“Off me, Fallon,” she breathed. “Impossible sounds. A new alchemy.
’Tis in my head. I must write it down. Saltpeter, sulfur, charcoal. What is
the mix? What is the measure? What kind of potion?”
“Stop thy nonsense,” Fallon ordered. “Put thy head down. Thou art
going to swoon. Do not get sick. I cannot stand that.”
“Nay, I am fine,” Honora said. “What must I write? I have forgotten.”
“Nonsense,” Fallon said. “Mere words and naught important. We must
prepare.”
Honora’s muffled voice drifted from the cloth of her skirt. “How dost
thou think to prepare? ’Tis not possible. I have explained. ’Tis time, space,
and not within our power.”
“I will hear none of that,” Fallon snapped. “We have discussed this.
Hold to the strength of our bond. I cannot do this alone.”
“So thou hast told us again and again, Fallon,” Caitlyn said, “but we
cannot know for certain we can change anything.”
“This family will endure,” Fallon said. “I will it so.”
Honora glanced up, her sapphire eyes now flashing with determination.
Caitlyn nibbled at her lip, glancing between her sisters. Honora demanded
order and rationale for all things and a clear plan of action from which to
launch their magics. An argument brewed, and Honora’s susceptible
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constitution offered no match for the strict censure of her mind. She would
fight, pale and shaking or not. If Fallon pursued her irrational scheme,
Honora’s mind would close, and even Fallon’s determination would not
open it again.
“Fallon,” Honora said, steady and firm. “Thy visions art messages of
what might be, not the truth of the world. They certainly art not a blessing to
fashion the world to thy liking. Thou wilt breed chaos, and I’ll have none of
it. A natural order controls our world. All events follow a course, and time
makes the decisions of our lives.”
“Time be damned,” Fallon muttered.
Honora dropped her head to the table and pounded her forehead against
the wood, her muttered words lost in a cloud of dark hair. “Proud, vain,
reckless, stubborn, pompous harpy.”
Caitlyn ignored Honora’s grumblings and peered at Fallon through the
fringes of hair shading her eyes. Her oldest sister looked unpredictable, a
restless animal trapped in a cage. She stalked the stone floor, pursuing her
own shadow cast by the flickering fire, and even the shadow ran from the
fury in her eyes. Caitlyn gathered her courage and caught her sister by the
arm. Fallon whirled around and tried to shake her off.
“Do not think to dissuade me, Cait. I must have thy favor. She’s going
to be difficult.” Fallon glared at Honora. “Cease, Honora! Thou wilt ruin
that mind, and I need it.”
“If it be mush,” Honora mumbled, “thy plans are miscarried before
conceived.”
Caitlyn tugged at Honora’s hair. “Enough. Stop thy struggle. She will
win. She always does.” She shot Honora a stern glance then turned on
Fallon. “If thy visions hath merit, the unraveling has begun. A roar hast
heralded the end of the Trinity. ’Tis what thou foretold, Fallon. The Keeper
is gone, the Leanan sidhe is alone, and the family will cease to be. It cannot
be changed.”
“It will be changed, Cait,” Fallon said. “I have seen it all.”
“’Tis but illusion,” Caitlyn whispered. “Tricks. Magic.”
“Oh, ’tis indeed magic, but hold no doubt in thy heart. ’Tis real. Our
powers will make it so.”
Honora rose unsteadily from the bench. A tired smile touched her lips.
Trinity Magic 9
“Fallon, we doubt not our powers, but there art limits to what we can do.
We have chosen to live in the natural world, within the flow of time, of
space, of reality. Thou might will it, but even we cannot tamper with the
forces of reality.”
Honora glanced to Caitlyn for support, and Fallon smiled. “Thou speaks
logic, but thy face betrays thee, Honora. Thou believes my mind is shaded in
madness.”
“Nay, Sister,” Honora said, “but…”
“Do ye wish proof I speak truly?” Fallon asked. “Well, Sisters, look
with thine own eyes.”
She swept her arm, and a dusty blue haze shimmered in the disturbance.
Her fingers dipped gently into the fog, and sparkling crystals formed in the
air at each touch, spreading through the haze like fiery gemstones of
sapphire, emerald, and ruby. The crystals caught the dancing light of the
hearth fire, and perfect prisms shot dazzling ropes of colorful lightning
through the air.
The colorful arcs spread throughout the bower. Honora and Caitlyn
laughed. The light skimmed their bodies and a warmth followed.
“’Tis wondrous.” Caitlyn sighed. “Thou hast such talent, Fallon. I am so
envious of thee. How dost thou create such things?”
“Magic,” Fallon whispered. “Hush now. There be more.”
Fallon breathed into the fog, and the crystals vanished, evaporating into
the air like snowflakes touched by the sun. The mist responded to her breath,
swirling, creating rosy eddies that twisted and spiraled until forming a circle
that wavered tenuously like a cloud holding onto a stormy sky. A reddish
smoke ring hovered in the air.
Caitlyn edged closer to the mist and reached toward the circle, her
fingertips grazing the rim of the aura. She snatched her hand back. “’Tis
hot!”
Fallon laughed. “Oh, aye, energy creates the heat. ’Tis necessary to stir
reality.”
Honora huffed. She flipped through the pages of her manuscript. “Stir
reality? Thou hast surely gone daft, Fallon. Nothing lies in any of our
volumes…”
Caitlyn lost track of Honora’s mutterings and focused on the circle of
haze that pulsed and shimmered, glowing now with a shade of the darkest
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rose. Tiny filaments of blood red fog curled along the edge of the circle,
threading the indistinct ring to the invisibility of the air. The center
darkened, transforming from dusty gray to slate to black.
Caitlyn peered into a small tunnel, a black hole that gaped into a stream
of violently swirling nothingness. She glanced back to her oldest sister.
“What hast thou done, Fallon?”
Fallon tilted her head, and an amused smile played on her lips. “’Tis the
After. I have given us hope. And others.”
Caitlyn studied her sister. Fallon’s visions were disturbing enough
without the loss of her reason. She needed to find Remy and put an end to
this nonsense. Only their brother could deal with Fallon. She gave Fallon a
final glare and had turned to leave the room when Honora’s tortured voice
broke her stride. Her sister backed against the table, her horrified gaze fixed
on the threaded circle.
“’Tis the mouth of hell itself,” Honora gasped. “Close it now. Hope
dwelleth not in the devil’s lair.”
“Oh, but, Sister, hope does indeed lie within,” Fallon said. “Move
closer, but do not touch it.”
Honora peeked into the black tunnel. Her eyes widened, and her mouth
dropped open.
“’Tis me! Years ago.”
“Nay,” Fallon said. “’Tis Hope. She exists in the After, many, many
years from now. I have seen her often. And her sisters.”
“But ’tis me,” Honora insisted. “How can that be?”
Fallon caught Caitlyn’s glance with a victorious wink. “We are eternal,
Sisters. We will move through time, existing in different centuries. The
visions have always been clear to me, but now ye can both see. ’Tis our
future. We are forever.”
Honora huffed again. “Nothing is forever, and thou art dealing with
forces of unimaginable power. The passage of time cannot be stopped or
changed.”
“Perhaps not,” Fallon said, “but gentle persuasion may sway its course.”
Caitlyn planted her fists on her hips. “Will a Trinity be needed for this
persuasion?”
“Well, of course,” Fallon said. “We are one.”
