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OF BEASTS AND BONDS Death and Destiny Trilogy, Book 2 N.D. Jones Baltimore, Maryland kuumbapublishing.com Copyright © 2016 by N.D. Jones All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission. Kuumba Publishing Maryland www.kuumbapublishing.com Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental. Book Layout © 2014 BookDesignTemplates.com Cover design by Maduranga Nuwan All art and logo copyright © 2016 by Kuumba Publishing Of Beasts and Bonds/ N.D. Jones. -- 1st ed. ISBN 988-0-9975293-0-02 DEDICATION This book is dedicated to my talented daughter, Najja. She is a wonderful visual artist whose dream of becoming a great graphic designer is well within her capable reach. Najja created the logo centerpiece for Kuumba Publishing. Thank you. PROLOGUE Baltimore, Maryland 29 Years Ago Rain thundered, a torrential deluge of harsh, whipping water and winds, punctuated by spine-tingling bursts of lightning. Somewhere, deep in the Pacific Ocean, two goddesses dwelled, imprisoned by the sun god Ra for their crimes against humanity. On this prophesized night, with thunder, lightning, rain, and the smell of fire and godly magic in the warm June air, Samuel Williams gritted his teeth, balled his fists, and swallowed down the urge to cry, to curse, to scream. Doing any of those things wouldn’t change the situation. Nor would they help the woman on the other side of the bedroom door. Right now, despite his anger and fear, Sam had to be strong for his wife. The jaguar within demanded nothing less from the man. For both had experienced crippling loss before—one child and then a sec- ond, neither surviving long enough to take their first gasping breaths of life. But this one, this third pregnancy, would prove the exception to the awful rule. Makena would see this child born, and a calm, in control Sam would be by her side. His cat spirit bonded and mated to her fire spirit, all wanting, needing the baby’s safe delivery. Sam pressed his hand and forehead against the cool pane of glass, lightning illuminating the night sky and the curse that would be his unborn daughter’s fate. He felt it, with each contraction his wife en- dured, Sam sensed the tiny baby struggling to be born. Only her life wouldn’t be hers alone. It belonged to the gods. A family war thou- sands of years old that claimed and destroyed countless lives, full- human and preternatural. 2 · N.D. JONES Senseless. Bloody. Enduring. The prelude to war was now at Samuel and Makena Williams’ doorstep, forbidding and crackling with old power but new possibili- ties. “I didn’t see my daughter pushed into the world, Sam.” A strong hand landed on Sam’s shoulder, a reassuring weight. “Little has changed in twenty-six years, even though this is the United States in- stead of Nigeria.” Sam turned to face his father-in-law, meeting light- brown eyes that sparkled with concern but also with a touch of rebel- lion. “Sometimes witches hold onto the old ways too tightly, even when they make little sense. You should be in there, holding my daughter’s hand and soothing her silent fears.” Sam glanced over the broad shoulder of Odafe Toure and to the closed wooden door behind the man who smelled of chaconia, re- minding Sam of growing up in Trinidad and long August days. He heard the sound of three distinct female voices, none of them his wife’s. With the enhanced senses of a jaguar, very little happened in his bedroom turned birthing room he couldn’t smell or hear. Yet there he stood, in the hallway of his home. At twenty-eight and the recent owner of his first apartment building, Sam had all too easily allowed the High Priestess of the Witch Council of Elders to push him out of his bedroom and away from his wife and unborn child. Well, that would end right now. “They all think my daughter is the fire witch of legend.” Sam’s eyes settled on Odafe, a fifty-three-year-old Nigerian, who shared the same type of inner cat spirit as Sam. Unsurprising since all the women in his wife’s family, as far as Sam knew, mated with men who har- bored an inner jaguar spirit. Yet his daughter, if truly the fire witch of legend, wasn’t destined to have a jaguar as her familiar. No, the man who would fight, maybe even die by her side, would hold a far more dangerous and powerful cat spirit. An ancient cat of myth and legend OF BEASTS AND BONDS · 3 he would be, or so the prophecy foretold. “What do you think? Will my daughter be the fire witch of legend, the one our people have wait- ed five centuries to be born?” Odafe raised a solitary finger and pointed to the window. Thunder and lightning roared, rain tumbled, and Makena moaned her birthing pain. “It also rained the day my Makena was born. The Biu Plateau erupted for the first time in decades. So-called extinct volcanoes mean nothing to the old gods. If we were to turn on the news, Sam, how many volcanoes do you think we would find have erupted since my daughter went into labor, spewing their fire and ferocity?” Makena’s moan turned into an outright scream, splitting the night air and challenging the thunder for prominence. “We’ll talk more about this later, son. My daughter and granddaughter need you.” Odafe stepped aside. “Go. I’m right behind you. And if that high priestess so much as raises one disapproving eyebrow at you, she’ll have to deal with me. Now, let’s not keep our women waiting.” Sam went, opening the door to his bedroom. As promised, Odafe followed, taking up the position behind Sam and in front of the glow- ering high priestess. Sam ignored the seventy-something woman, whose straight white hair, aquamarine eyes, and willowy frame did nothing to capture the magical might of the witch. But her magic, no matter how advanced, paled in comparison to Wasola’s, Makena’s mother. While Sam knew High Priestess Katherine meant well, this was his home, his wife, and his child. And his daughter, damn the prophecy, did not, would not belong to the Council … or to the gods. He hoped. He prayed. Then she was born, with red-gold hair and green eyes—undeniable marks of the fire witch of legend. Thunder purred. Lightning laughed. The rain raged, battering the city, the state, the nation, the world in unforgiving explosions of water goddess fury. The fire witch of leg- 4 · N.D. JONES end, an unwilling champion of humanity, a tool of the gods, and Sam- uel and Makena Williams’ child had been born. Healthy and hail and without a single tear or scream, her birth brought forth shock and awe from High Priestess Katherine and her daughter Anna, a water witch with hopes of replacing her mother on the Witch Council of Elders. But for now, the women dropped to their knees, heads in supplication and an ancient prayer on their lips. Sam neither understood the language they spoke nor knew whether they prayed for his child or to the storm and wind goddess Oya, who was known for her lustrous red-gold hair, flawless brown skin and vibrant green eyes, as much as for her destructive battles with her wa- ter and serpent goddess sister, Mami Wata. For whatever they prayed, Sam couldn’t begrudge them their relieved happiness. For he too was happy, as were Odafe and his wife, High Priestess Wasola. More importantly, Makena had finally given them a child they wanted so desperately. Even with the threat of the prophecy attempt- ing to mar this beautiful moment, Sam couldn’t help but smile down at his tired but mighty wife. “You’ve made me the happiest man to- day, Makena. Thank you for our daughter. I love you.” Leaning down, he kissed Makena’s sweaty forehead and then the angelic face of his daughter. Unblinking green eyes stared up at Sam with such trust and faith his knees nearly buckled, threatening to send him crashing to the floor like Katherine and Anna. It was then Sam knew, understood there was nothing he wouldn’t do to protect his pre- cious little girl. Three hours later, with Katherine and Anna gone home, Odafe, Wasola, and Makena asleep, Sam, daughter held against his pounding heart, descended the stairs to the basement. Able to see in the dark, Sam didn’t bother flipping on the light switch. Instead, he held his bundle even tighter and walked until he reached the couch. Grabbing a ruffled throw pillow, he knelt, and then placed his si- lent newborn on the pillow. OF BEASTS AND BONDS · 5 Again, those too-knowing green eyes stared up at Sam—haunting in their immature intensity, beseeching him to not do what he was planning on doing. “This will be for the best. My jaguar spirit agrees. This is the only choice. It’s the way of fathers and daughters.” He would confess all to Makena in the morning. But not before- hand, not when his wife would be forced to choose between her husband of her heart and her daughter of her soul.

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