The Dark Rising

By Lacey Weatherford

When darkness clouds the heart of the one you love, how far would you journey to bring them back to the light?

Portia’s world shatters when Vance, her soul’s counterpart, looks at her with eyes devoid of their shared memories. Desperate to reignite his lost magic and recollections, she finds a brief glimmer of hope. But that hope is swiftly extinguished when something malevolent takes root within Vance, transforming him into a menace to all he encounters. The stakes rise even higher as their coven members fall victim one by one, with Vance cast in the chilling role of prime suspect.

Yet, as Portia delves into the enigma, she finds herself ensnared by an old enemy with a festering grudge. With her safety hanging by a thread, her only salvation might be the very person who risks dooming her. Amidst this maelstrom of magic, treachery, and betrayal, will Portia find the strength to avert a catastrophic fate?

Boasting over half a million series copies sold, The Dark Rising is the mesmerizing fourth entry in the “Of Witches and Warlocks” series. For those enchanted by the spells of Charmed, the dark allure of The Vampire Diaries, and the witty exchanges of Lucifer, Lacey Weatherford’s tale promises an electrifying read.

Dive into a realm where love wrestles with darkness. Secure your copy of The Dark Rising and venture deeper into the enchantment!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lacey Weatherford
• Release date: Jul 26, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465766618

Lacey Weatherford

Lacey Weatherford was born in Ft. Meade Maryland while her father was serving in the military. She has been a life long resident of Arizona, spending most of her time growing up in the small rural town of Clay Springs.It was while she was attending the small country school in Clay Springs, that she read her first "big" book at the age of eight. It was a Nancy Drew novel and Lacey was instantly hooked. She read every book that she could find in the series and decided that she wanted to write stories too.Lacey spent a lot of time at the library from that time forward, even volunteering in her later teen years and early twenties. She would don a crazy clown outfit for the Friends of the Library fundraisers in an effort to help get the new town library built.When she and her husband moved away from the area, Lacey took the opportunity to take some creative writing classes at the local college to help further along her interests. Several years later, they were blessed with the opportunity to move back to Clay Springs with their family. The town had finally succeeded in building their library and Lacey had the opportunity to be President of the Friends of the Library for a very short time, before relocating.Lacey and her family still live in the White Mountains of Arizona, where she continues to write young adult novels that have a fantasy/fairytale or paranormal bent to them, as well as being sure to include a great romantic storyline

Book preview

Prologue

Alifetime of things happened in the eleven months since I turned sixteen, some of which I believed to be impossible.

Memories of the entire year passed through my mind now, as if on fast forward, in one unbelievable second. The first day I noticed Vance Mangum watching me—our first kiss, and the moment he declared his undying love for me. Images of our wedding and the many times he held me so close in his arms swirled around in my head.

All of this, on top of receiving the news I was actually a witch descended from a long line of witches and warlocks, made for one unimaginable year. As if the family secret wasn’t enough, much to my astonishment, I discovered Vance was a warlock, too—a very powerful one.

I didn’t know then the appearance of Vance in my life would so wholly turn things upside down. While our relationship was filled with many moments that were like a dream come true, most of our time together was tangled in an ever-threatening web of lies and deceit. Some of those deceptions nearly cost us our lives—and eventually, one did cost Vance his, bringing us both to this moment tonight, when I realized with an aching heart, Vance had changed.

1

W hat do you mean, who am I? Staring in disbelief at the face of my nineteen-year-old husband, I tried to comprehend. His demon appearing eyes glowed red as his hard expression moved over me.

Who are you? Vance asked again, his grip on my arms growing painful.

I’m your wife! I exclaimed, attempting to remove myself from his tightening grasp.

You’re . . . what? A puzzled expression flashed across his face, and he released me. Taking a step backward, he moved out of the moonlight and into the shadows. Only his mistrustful crimson eyes remained visible.

Vance, what’s going on? I asked, gesturing between him and the grave he stood next to—one that he’d recently occupied.

He stared at me hesitantly. Vance? Is that my name? His tone softened considerably.

Heart pounding loudly at his reply. Was he joking? He didn’t know his own name? You honestly don’t remember anything? I moved into the shadow next to him trying to see him better. What’s the last memory you have?

The silence was deafening before he answered. I woke up, and it was dark. I felt like I couldn’t breathe because the air was so thin. Feeling around, I realized I was in a casket and needed to get out. I pushed hard against the lid, but it didn’t budge. He paused and lifted his hands staring at them, his face growing reflective. It seems weird now. Somehow, I managed to heat up the surface, and it melted. Dirt started falling in on me, and I thought I was going to suffocate. I started clawing my way through it until I reached the top and was able to climb out. Then I saw you. His penetrating stare landed on me once more.

So, you don’t remember anything about your life prior to your death? My knees trembled, and it felt like it took all my strength to stand.

Eyes never leaving me, he slowly shook his head. I was dead? You’re sure? he asked. Disbelief echoed in his low tone. I could only manage a nod, and he swallowed hard, glancing at the grave he’d been in. "It doesn’t make sense. I mean, I know how to speak and what things are. I just don’t know who I am."

Mind racing, I tried to think of a reasonable explanation for what was going on. It was obvious something unique was happening. Off the top of my head, I assumed The Awakening was responsible. It must have reversed his death—taking a long time to work since he’d been nearly dead when he had received it.

He doesn’t remember me. The thought raced through and pierced me to the soul. Do you think you can trust me? I asked, my calm tone belying the frantic feelings coursing inside. I know some things about you which might help you out.

Looking briefly around the cemetery, his eyes darted back to me. Well, you’re the only one here, so I suppose I can give you a shot.

I placed a hand on my chest and wondered if he noticed it trembling. My name is Portia Mangum. I paused, hoping the name might jog his memory, but there was no reaction signaling recognition. Yours is Vance Mangum. The two of us were married about seven months ago, I added, feeling as though my heart was caught in a vise that was getting tighter by the second.

You seem awfully young for that, he replied, skepticism showing.

I am, I answered. I’ll be seventeen next month.

How old am I?

You turned nineteen in April.

Why would we get married so young? His eyes flicked toward my stomach and the baggy shirt of his I was wearing, before staring at me pointedly.

Well, that’s where the story gets more complicated, I replied, quickly trying to figure out the best way to approach the subject.

Just tell it to me straight. I don’t need you to sugar coat things for me.

All right. You remember how you told me you melted the lid off the casket? I asked, and he nodded. Well, you’re magical. Actually, you’re a warlock, and I’m a witch. I didn’t need to be able to read his mind to know he thought I was crazy.

You’re joking, right? For a hint of a second, I saw a flash of his old sardonic grin, and my heart did little flip-flops.

I’m not, and I’ll prove it to you, I said, stepping closer, so close I could feel the heat coming from his body. He really is alive. I’m not hallucinating.

May I touch your hand? I held mine out in what I hoped was a relaxed gesture.

Eyes narrowing, he appeared to contemplate my request before laying his hand in mine. Immediately, the physical spark between us flared. I wondered if he felt it too, or if it was just me? I guided him to make his hand into a fist.

Okay, I need you to concentrate. Take a moment and listen to all the emotions you’ve got running through your body right now and try to center them together. When you feel like you have control over them, start to focus those energies into your palm, while you’re thinking of the word fire. Whenever you’re ready, open your hand.

I hoped I was instructing him correctly. This was how I called my magic. Dropping my hands, I stepped away. I thought he was going to argue with me for a second, but he didn’t. Instead, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, thrusting his fingers open quickly.

A massive rolling wave of heat permeated the air with a blast, and a gigantic pillar of fire shot up from his extended palm. I fell to the ground, instinctively raising an arm over my face, trying to protect myself from the high temperature radiating from him.

Staring at him, slack-jawed, one thing was immediately evident. The Awakening had strengthened his powers astronomically.

Vance appeared in shock at first, before a stealthy smile spread over his face. Twisting his arm this way and that, he began playing with the fire, testing it. I watched in amazement while he moved the inferno back and forth, creating a giant arc between his hands as if he were manipulating a blazing slinky. He continued until he had two pillars of fire twisting into different kinds of patterns, smiling fully when the flames danced up his arms to his shoulders.

I found it interesting none of his clothing combusted with the intense heat. His magic must be encompassing what he was wearing. I continued to watch as he moved with both grace and control, awed by his ability until he finally remembered I was still here.

The fire went out immediately, leaving us in the dark once again. My eyes struggled to adjust to the abrupt change in light when suddenly a flame the size of a cigarette lighter appeared, flickering on the top of a finger he held out between us.

I believe you, he said matter-of-factly, staring curiously at the small flame. Was I always this way?

Shaking my head, I climbed back to my feet. Not at this level of expertise.

What do you mean?

Well, you’ve always been powerful, I explained. But right before you died, you received a special power called The Awakening. Apparently, it’s strengthened your powers far beyond what they were previously.

So, what’s this Awakening thing and why’d I get it? He seemed truly curious.

Sighing, I felt like my explanations were getting all jumbled. I was surprised he understood any of this. Well, it’s hard for me to tell you without starting from the beginning. Suffice it to say, it’s a paranormal gift that you and I are both the recipients of. It’s responsible for the significant strengthening of our powers, as well as making us immortal.

Immortal? As in, neither of us can die? He lifted an eyebrow, clearly questioning the idea.

Basically, that’s the case, at least not for several hundred years anyway if you take the prophecy at face value. We haven’t exactly had time to test things out, I said with a shrug, wondering if he, too, thought I sounded like a moron. I was pretty sure he did.

But didn’t you just say I was dead? he asked, giving a slight jerk of his head toward the grave he had recently occupied.

Yes, I replied. You were near death when you received The Awakening. I’m guessing after your body died The Awakening kept working to restore you—bringing you to immortal status. It apparently took a while to happen.

He thought this over for a moment. Okay, he said, nodding slightly. I kind of get that. What I don’t understand is how any of this stuff explains the marriage thing.

Another puff of air escaped me, and I tried to think of something to tell him that would make sense. We were going on a trip to search for your missing mother, Krista Mangum. I paused again for any sign of recognition, but there was nothing. My parents didn’t want us to go away together for that long, being in a situation where we might be tempted to do things we shouldn’t.

So, they had us get married? The skepticism returned.

Well, we were actually already engaged and planning on getting married in September. It was a matter of moving up the date a few months, I replied trying to sound nonchalant, as if this whole conversation wasn’t making me extremely nervous.

A smoky glance traveled over me. So, you’re saying we’d never been intimate before then? he asked me point blank.

No, we hadn’t. And that was your idea, not mine.

My idea? Giving a half snort, his gazed raked across me again. I could plainly see the disbelief written on his face. "Now that is hard for me to believe."

A blush crept over me, my body reacting instantly to him. Well, it’s true. Turning away, I attempted to cover my physical response, but he surprised me, grabbing my arm and yanking me back to face him.

And what about after this so-called marriage? His eyes searched mine.

What do you mean? I swallowed thickly, trembling at his rough touch. Vance was rarely aggressive with me.

You know what I mean, he replied. What was this physical relationship like after the marriage?

It hurt that he didn’t remember and pinched even more because I knew he was mocking me. He didn’t believe me, and it made me upset.

Brazenly, I took a step toward him, so our bodies were nearly touching. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced in my life, I answered, throwing it back in his face. Studying me, something changed in his expression. He released me, stepping away, but he continued to stare.

I’m not that person anymore, he said bluntly. Well, that’s a knife to the heart.

Yes, you are. You just don’t remember. Tears welled up in my eyes.

Angrily, he moved forward, glowering into my face. Look—Portia, was it? I don’t know you or your life, and I certainly don’t care about it. Why should I? For all I know you could be some stupid girl out to take advantage of the situation, trying to fulfill some strange fantasy. What proof do you have that any of this is true?

Frustration flooded me. How about this? I lifted my hand, shoving my wedding ring into his face. If you check your hand, you’ll see the mate to this set. If that isn’t enough proof, then feel free to take it off and have a good look at where our names are inscribed together on the inside. And the tuxedo you’re wearing? You wore it to our wedding. I have the pictures to prove it if you would care to see them.

Looking down, he noticed the ring on his finger for the first time. He pulled it off as I’d suggested and, using a flame, read the inscription out loud. Vance and Portia forever, huh?

That’s right, I challenged.

Well, apparently forever didn’t last very long for you, did it? he said with callous indifference, though he slipped the ring back on.

Why was he being so mean? I couldn’t take it. Stepping away, I let the tears stream freely, the hurt being more than I could stand. "You know what? You’re right. You aren’t my Vance. My Vance would never be so intentionally cruel."

I began walking briskly toward the cemetery gates, where I’d left the motorcycle. He caught up with me quickly, matching my pace stride for stride. Running his hand through his hair, he gave a grunt of frustration. Listen, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s going on and I’m confused. I’m baiting you with my irritation. An actual hint of apology tinged his voice, but I didn’t stop, tears flowing down my cheeks. Hey. Are you deaf? I said I was sorry if I offended you.

Stopping abruptly, I turned to face him. Sorry if you offended me? Really? Let me shed some light on the subject for you, Vance. My anger flared. I just spent the last few days watching my husband, who I love more than anything in this world, get murdered in front of me! Then, afterward, I held his dead body in my lap while we drove back to where we were staying. I got to sit with those remains while they were shipped back from Scotland on an airplane where I had tortured dreams of how he was calling to me for help. After that, I planned his funeral and watched him get buried under a mound of dirt. Being parted that way was excruciating! Even in death, I couldn’t stand to be away, so I came here tonight and found you standing at the foot of his grave. I poked him hard in the chest. Think what you want, but you are him! I’ve already been through hell because of you, and I don’t need you or your pompous attitude to add to it! Storming off again, I left him behind.

Wait! he called, and I stopped, taking a deep breath trying to calm myself.

What? I turned around.

He eyed me nervously for a second. Take me with you, he said abruptly, shocking me.

Excuse me? I replied with an incredulous glance, not believing what I was hearing after his previous insults.

Take me with you, he said again, moving a step closer. Look, I don’t have anywhere else I can go. If you take me with you, I’ll listen to your stories, and you can show me your pictures. I’m not going to promise you anything, but I will listen.

He seemed sincere. My heart jumped a little at his request, but I knew there were other factors involved he might not be prepared for.

Our family will be there, I told him, continuing to watch him with a wary eye. They’re going to remember you, too. Do you think you’ll be able to handle that?

He slid his hands into the pockets of his tux, staring at the ground and rubbing the dirt with the toe of his shoe. Will me showing up freak them all out? he asked after a minute of consideration.

Everyone except my mom is magical, they’ll deal with the shock okay. But they do love you, and they’re going to be excited to see you.

He considered this before he spoke again. I’ll do my best to be civil. You have to know this is all really weird for me.

I understand. And I’m trying to be sympathetic, but you’re making it difficult for me.

He acknowledged my point with a slight nod. So, what do you say to forming a truce? The grin I loved so much spread across his face. He had no idea how much I wished I could kiss him. My mind was swirling with more emotions than I could possibly hope to sort out, let alone process.

Truce . . . sounds good, I agreed, trying to keep my breathing even.

He sighed deeply. Alright then, let’s go.

2

Y ou ride a motorcycle? Vance asked, surprise in his voice as we approached the massive black beast parked at the gate. He looked at me with a whole new appreciation in his glowing eyes.

No. I grinned. I drive a funky little green scooter. This is yours. I extended his helmet to him, and he took the safety gear before staring at it and handing it back.

Why don’t you use it? he offered politely.

I shook my head. No. You wear it. Seeing how half of the town witnessed you dead this afternoon, I think it would be in your best interest if you covered your face.

Ah. He nodded. That might be the smart thing to do.

Would you like your jacket too? I asked, shrugging out of it.

No. You keep it, he said reaching out to stop me. My breath caught at the familiar gesture, and I watched as his eyes wandered over the rest of me.

I’m assuming most of what you’re wearing this evening belonged to me? He smiled slightly, and I gazed down at the baggy shirt and sweat pants, nodding.

These were your pajamas. I smoothed my hand over them reverently, like they were made of silk. I wanted to feel close to you, so I put them on, I explained.

So, I’m a t-shirt and sweats kind of guy? he asked, cocking that eyebrow again. It was crazy how sexy that tiny gesture looked on him.

Not all the time, I answered. You’ve only ever worn sweats to bed, sometimes without a shirt, sometimes just boxers. During the daytime, you’re mostly a t-shirt and jeans kind of guy.

Anything else I should know about myself? He looked truly curious.

Well, let’s see. You built this motorcycle yourself because you like to work with your hands, and you’re a multi-millionaire. I watched, waiting for his reaction.

Oh. I have money. That’s a nice revelation, he replied after a moment of surprise crossed his face. That isn’t why you married me, is it? he added, scrutinizing me.

I rolled my eyes. No! And for your information, you inherited most of the money since we’ve been married. Get on the bike! I ordered him, still shaking my head at his comment.

Can I drive? he asked, catching me by surprise.

Do you feel comfortable doing that? I secretly wondered if he remembered how.

He gave a shrug. I won’t know until I try, will I?

Stepping aside, I gestured to the seat. Be my guest, I said as he climbed on. Hey, there’s one more thing I should tell you before we go.

What’s that?

Your mom’s staying at our house. Again, I carefully watched his expression. He stared over the handlebars glancing up toward the night sky.

My mom, he rolled the words out slowly, shaking his head. Sorry. I’m drawing a blank.

You died trying to save her life. It’s been really hard on her. I just thought you might want to be a little lenient with her when you meet.

I’ll try, he finally replied, sighing.

Also, would you mind if I do one more thing before we go back?

Depends on what it is. He stared at me warily.

I don’t know if you’re aware, but your eyes are glowing red. This is something that happened quite frequently before, and I used to help you with it.

My eyes are red? He dipped his head over to peer into one of the mirrors on the handlebar. Oh, wow! Lifting a hand to his face, he examined his reflection. What’s causing that?

You suffered a partial demon conversion in the past. This is a side effect left over from it. I hope, I added to myself, knowing he might be more demon than we’d ever thought initially. My memories flitted over the last frightening moments of his life in Scotland.

A demon conversion? That doesn’t sound good. What do you do to fix it? he asked.

I just need you to let me place my hands on either side of your head, near the temples.

Go for it, he agreed, and I found myself trembling when I reached to touch him as if it were for the first time all over again.

Placing my hands on his face, I wondered if he felt my tremors as I released the healing white light into him. I noticed the powers moved through me much easier, and stronger than before.

For some reason, the redness still seemed harder to remove though, but after a few seconds it started to dim and the bright blue shade, which I loved so much, returned. I let the magic flow a bit longer, this time concentrating on sending it through his brain, hoping desperately it might awaken some sort of memory for him.

As I did, I saw his thoughts were utterly unfettered toward me, and I couldn’t help myself as I listened to what was inside.

He was telling the truth, having no idea who he was, not even showing a connection to his own name. Seemingly unaware that I was in his mind, I could tell he was frustrated, even though he tried to hold it in. I removed my hands, letting them fall back to my sides.

All better, I said, taking a step away from him.

He looked in the mirror once again. Hey! I have blue eyes! he exclaimed. How’d you do that?

I’m a healer witch, I replied, watching him curiously. Vance, do you even recognize yourself?

Continuing to stare, he shook his head. I’ve no memory of this face before seeing it here. I have to say I’m a little relieved to find out I’m a pretty decent looking guy though. He

Reviews for The Dark Rising

[dragonlibrary8 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Once again, Lacey Weatherford has demonstrated her ability to craft a magnificent tale that is dark and dangerous, but filled with love and hope. Of Witches and Warlocks continues with The Dark Rising and Wow! You are not ready for this one! Hold on for the ride of your life as Portia and Vance continue to battle the darkness. Will their love be enough? Wonderfully written. Couldn't put it down!

[joshuakyte · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Clap, Clap, Clap. Great series thus far, twists and turns, ups and downs. I just don't know where to turn. The first two books would be challenging to the average YA to figure out the intended plot turns before hand, but this book, not only caught me by surprise, but floored me. Now I don't want to give anything away, but the ending completely snuck up behind me and shocked the bejebbezes out of me lol. Great job Lacey, you just keep impressing me more and more. 4.5 out of 5 stars.

[jdonnelly14_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

RECEIVED FROM: The Author for Review***NOTE MY REVIEWS OFTEN CONTAIN SPOILERS***After dealing with the horrifying loss of her husband in the previous novel Portia Mangum is shocked to find that her husband Vance has returned from the dead. Apparently the Awakening that she received in the last novel also worked on restoring her husband. Unfortunately though he doesn’t remember anything about his life before the moment he awoke in a coffin, buried alive. Though he doesn’t remember his wife he still works with her to rediscover their marriage, however a crimp in their plans of things going back to normal occurs when they dangerously discover that Vance has not only come back, but he’s come back as a demon – an un-kill-able, unstoppable demon. Their relationship may have survived a lot, but can it survive his unquenchable thirst for her blood?After my feeling on that last book I was a little reserved about reading this one so it took me a little bit to trust that I’d been delivered a much better story in the fourth novel in the Witches and Warlock series. Even the lovey dovey moments are edgy because Vance is as much a danger to her as he is a comfort.I liked the introduction of Hex, the half jinn warlock and hope to see him in future titles. I also liked the emotional struggles of Portia within this novel and the hint of character growth. My main complaint with this is in some parts it almost seems to support staying in an abusive relationship, the main killed her, even though she couldn’t die due to the Awakening and it wasn’t until she temporarily lost the Awakening and was therefore vulnerable to death that she left him and even then after gaining all the strong jinnie powers she still goes back to him.I applauded Weatherford for making Portia a stronger character in this novel, but it still seems no matter how much Portia gains, Vance always gains more. He always has the upper hand in the relationship and demon or not I don’t see that as healthy or something I’d want to encourage in a role model.I do like how Weatherford managing to continue keeping the relationship at a believable physical level for the couple without bringing readers inside their sex life and therefore staying clearly within the young adult genre.The ending however was a major shock, that frankly made no sense whatsoever to me and I’m wondering how that twist will be explained in the next novel. I’m not really sure what’s going on now and who’s alive and who’s dead and I’m wondering how it is that these characters are not staying dead when Weatherford kills them off.Overall The Dark Rising is a stunning comeback after her slightly disappointing previous novel and with this story I’m drawn back into the series wanting to know what happens next. The stakes are higher, the danger is bigger and the questions brought with this ending will definitely be stuck in my head until the next novel in the series debuts. Highly recommended.