Amber Moon (Moon Trilogy, Part II)

By C.L. Bevill

Mirie is a Committee agent and sent to watch a handsome elvish prince. The prince allegedly has the Eyes of the Amber Moon, a magical artifact, that can be used to destroy the world. She quickly learns that all is not as it seems and the mystery of who she really is is connected to the enigmatic elfish realm. She must fight for herself, the relic, and her love for the halfling prince. Novella.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C.L. Bevill
• Release date: Nov 30, 2010
• ISBN: 9781458115027

C.L. Bevill

C.L. Bevill is the author of several books including Bubba and the Dead Woman, Bubba and the 12 Deadly Days of Christmas, Bubba and the Missing Woman, Bayou Moon, The Flight of the Scarlet Tanager, Veiled Eyes, Disembodied Bones, and Shadow People. She is currently at work on her latest literary masterpiece.

Book preview

Amber Moon

By

C.L. Bevill

Amber Moon

Published by C.L. Bevill at Smashwords

Copyright 2010 by Caren L. Bevill

Chapter One

The prophecy of the elfish Court says

that when the half breed prince meets his match

in both magic and flesh, the court shall flourish…

He doesn’t look like an elf, came the usual sardonic comment. I thought elves were short, really short. Big ears, big noses. Wings, too. Doesn’t look like he has wings under that silk shirt.

Mirie looked through the high powered binoculars and thought that the man that they were watching was powerful with leanly corded muscles. The pale blue silk shirt he was wearing showed every ripple of his physique. Mirie had seen her fair share of handsome men, but Samson Anarion was easily the forerunner on her top ten list. He had long hair, as straight as night, and as unfathomably dark as sin. It fell to the area between his shoulder blades when it was loose and when it was tied back, as it was now, it looked positively wicked. He was a tall man, standing well over six feet, but it was his face that was the most arresting. His cheekbones slashed to his chin and his eyes were the color of diamonds, sharply stunning, dynamic, and utterly enthralling. It was an attractive face even with a slicing white scar that ripped through one of his eyebrows, crossed over his eye and faded down his cheek, intersecting with the well-defined cheekbone.

He looked like an elfish pirate.

I don’t see how anyone can think he’s human, she murmured to Jack Drake, her partner on the surveillance team.

Jack was tall, and gray eyed as well, but he was rough and hewn from stone, a man who was on a mission, and nothing else. His hair was the color of silver, prematurely gray, but he had once said it had always been that color. And he was only a few years older than Mirie. He was also utterly human and full of arrogance and declaration. He’s a pretty boy, he said lowly. For a fairy.

Elf, Mirie corrected. A prince of the High Court. Son of the king. He’s an eighth son, however. And half human by all reports. His mother was quite beautiful and very human. Still, they trust him in this world to take care of business investments.

Jack scowled and Mirie sensed it without looking at her partner. He didn’t think much of otherworldly creatures, whether they were vampire, werewolf, or elf. If he knew what she was, she wasn’t sure if he would continue to trust her. Jack had issues with the paranormal, and for good reason, considering that his family had been slaughtered by something otherworldly, leaving him an orphan when he was twelve years old. The Committee had taken him in, and as an adult, trained him to be a field agent, just as they had Mirie. Mirie had come by her skills in a different manner, albeit more mysteriously.

They come from another plane of existence, Jack said grimly. Yet they want to do business in our world, unbeknownst to the general public. What do they invest in? Stocks and bonds? Microsoft? It doesn’t seem right.

The elves don’t cause harm to humans. You need to read your research briefings better. Mirie glanced at Jack and then back at Samson Anarion. They were perched on a roof top five hundred yards away from Anarion’s penthouse suite. Anarion had come out onto his luxurious patio in order to perform his daily exercises. He stripped off the silk shirt and Mirie got another look at his toned and compelling form. She also got a look at the rash of white scars across his back. Fully a dozen crisscrossed his skin, and gave him the appearance of a man who had been whipped into near death.

They have their own agenda, Jack said. Not one that supports humans. If it comes down to them or us, they’re going to screw us over every time.

Mirie shrugged. She didn’t think elves were the worst of the otherworldly creatures that walked in humanity’s shadows. Vampires, shapeshifters, djinns, and ghouls were all worse in that they preyed on the human population. Often they left only pools of blood and bizarre questions for clueless, unauthorized authorities. Only the mysterious Committee, of which Mirie was an active field agent, made advancements to protect the human race. The Committee had numbers of paranormal experts and field agents and an agenda that Mirie mostly agreed with. But there were always exceptions.

Moving into a more comfortable position, she braced the binoculars on the edge of the building. Jack shifted uneasily beside her. He could see Anarion’s figure and didn’t need the binoculars to understand that their quarry was performing his exercises on his outdoor patio. Mirie took a deep breath and watched Anarion move with precision and skill. The routine seemed like a combination of Tai Chi and Karate, but she had an idea that it was really an Elfish martial art that required superior concentration. Anarion moved in a manner that men could not. He jumped higher, his kicks went on longer, and a leather punching bag on the patio appeared as though it would soon need to be replaced because it was very well worked.

It was the third time she had watched Anarion do his practice, but she still stared, fascinated. After forty minutes of elaborate exercise, he stopped to take a deep breath, his chest heaving with exertion, and he looked directly at Mirie. A tiny smile crossed his face and she suddenly knew that he was aware of their observation, that he had been aware of them for some time. She nearly dropped the binoculars. Then she noticed something else.

Is he looking at us? Jack said quietly.

Yes, Mirie said immediately. And he’s got the artifact.

Jack perked up immediately. On him, now?

It’s his belt buckle. The two faceted amber gemstones mounted on a golden plate decorated the belt at Anarion’s waist. "The Eyes of the Amber Moon has been molded to be a fashion utensil. Mirie brought the binocs back up to Anarion’s face and saw that he was still watching her. She knew that the elves had superior vision, but it seemed as though he wasn’t surprised that they were there. Furthermore, she thought she could see a touch of triumph in his expression. Uneasiness filled her being. Elves didn’t like unnecessary attention to their activities and the Committee had squabbled with them before. Uh-oh. Jack. Time to go. He’s too unassuming."

Mirie jumped to her feet, damning herself for her gullibility. Elves knew things; some were clairvoyant. How he had known they were watching him wasn’t a huge