Eternally Bound (Broken Series #4): Broken Series, #4

By M. L. Stephens

With Hunter by her side, Claire struggles to gain full control of her magic as Lucian and his gang of necromancers becomes hell bent on destroying everyone she loves. Desperate to fulfill her destiny and uphold the ancient prophecy she struggles to piece together her broken past in order to protect a threatened future.

Can she accept her new abilities and shattered emotions before the gate between her world and the afterlife is forever lost, or will Claire succumb to the dark forces to which she is Eternally Bound?

• Language: English
• Publisher: M. L. Stephens
• Release date: Oct 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781484015919

Book preview

Prologue

Lucian’s last day

Killing his daughter had been an accident, but the wheels of fate had been set into motion and fate wouldn’t be denied. Though he was anticipating payback, he wanted to prolong the inevitable. Life on earth was enjoyable and though he was prepared for what lie ahead, he wasn’t necessarily eager to join the ranks of the spirit world...not yet.

Preparation, he thought with a wicked smile. It was the key to all things magical so he had cast every spell that he knew. Now, he waited. It was only a matter of time before fiery vengeance would pour down upon him and claim its reward. The Voodoo vixen would come for him. There was no doubt about it and she would damn his soul to hell. Lucian laughed at the irony. His soul had already been promised to another and not even hell could undo the vow he had made. Let her come, he sneered, casting his challenge into the night. Her vengeance upon me is the final element needed to secure the curse.

Lucian paced outside the horse stable while his ignorant peasant hand prepared his stallion. The night air was heavy with the promise of rain, but that was the least of his worries. He was eager to get away from the plantation and drown his frustrations at the local saloon where he could submerge himself in drinks, women, and gambling.

Things had happened so quickly the night he had discovered that his daughter was being initiated into his wife’s coven and he had allowed his anger to consume him. Now Claire, his creation, was dead. Just as well, the child had been weak and easily mislead. She had betrayed him by following in her mother’s path of light and her disloyalty was unacceptable. There was no way in hell he would allow his years of research and dedication to be used against him. If the person he had created refused to side with her maker, it was only fitting that he—her creator—be the one to snuff out her life force. If only she had obeyed his repeated demand that she revoke her mother’s wishes. Stupid girl, he growled.

His ridiculous wife believed that she could create a perfect coven by combining Voodoo and Wiccan disciplines. Her powers had become strong and she wanted to use their daughter to lead this hybrid coven, but he was stronger than his wife and Ella’s mother combined. They had wanted to lead his daughter to goodness. Now he would make certain that as long as he lived—however long or short that might be—the woman who had physically born his creation would suffer.

The loss of her precious little daughter was only the beginning of the things she would endure at his hands. His lips curled into a snarl as he thought about the beating he’d just given his wife. She had tried to be strong as he’d repeatedly meted out her punishment, but he’d finally broken her. The sound of her screams still echoed in his mind. The image of his wife huddled in the corner of their room would only made him want to return to continue what he had started. The only reason he hadn’t killed her too, was because he knew that keeping her alive would be more torturous for her than a quick death. He had decided that the most fitting punishment for her betrayal would be to beat her until she broke, then he would allow her to heal and repeat the process. If he had to punish her once or twice a week, so be it. Nothing would compare to what she had done to him. His wife’s betrayal was unforgivable and turning his creation against him, even less so.

He paced outside the stables as he impatiently waited for his horse. Nate, the stable man was slow and simple and Nate’s son Clyde had been a thorn in Lucian’s side from the beginning. The boy’s constant cheerful demeanor and his childhood obsession with Claire were deplorable. Lucian refused to allow Claire to socialize with the workers and when he had discovered that his daughter was secretly dashing into the woods with a pauper’s son, he had been beyond livid.

Claire’s death may have been an accident, but Clyde’s death was not. He found it difficult to tolerate the boy’s undesirable affection toward his daughter, even if it had seemed innocent enough. It was obnoxious to see her laughing with a farm hand, someone so clearly below her station.

When luck dealt him a favorable hand and he caught the boy in the supply shed, he’d taken immediate disciplinary action against him. It was the excuse he had been looking for to dispose of the brat. The boy had been in the supply house without justification and that was inexcusable. Not that he’d allowed the boy to explain himself. His nervous stuttering and rambling when he’d been caught was more than Lucian had patience for. He would not and could not endure a thief on his homestead or the other workers would resort to thievery, and so Clyde’s death had served as a warning and an example to the others. No one could prove that he had murdered the boy, but his workers gossiped and that gossip had led to fear. Fear is a very motivational supervisor, he mused.

Here you are, Sir. Unable to look his son’s assumed killer in the face, Nate kept his head lowered. If his son had died at the hands of Mr. Fontaine, then karma was an eager adversary and would deal with him when the time came. Under Mrs. Fontaine’s direction, Nate had sought the advice and help of a Voodoo priestess in New Orleans and she had assured him that justice in the matter would be a swift sword.

Imbecile, I could have ridden to town and back in the time it took you to saddle my horse. Lucian snatched the reigns from the man and swiftly mounted the black horse as it stamped at the soil and trotted to the side. Lucian pulled the reins tight causing the creature to rear back. Being the experienced horseman that he was, he was up for the challenge and was easily able to remain mounted. The stud lowered its front legs to the ground with a solid whine and shook its mane. The horse’s untamable wild streak was the very reason Lucian had purchased it. With a solid kick to the flanks, Lucian and his demon horse rode off into the night. Usually he was hyper-aware of his surroundings but because his mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of the impending retribution that was sure to seek swift punishment for the crimes he had committed, Lucian failed to notice the calculating smile on the stable man’s face.

The full moon cast enough light that the makeshift road was visible as Lucian trotted towards town. Who goes there? Lucian called out as he came upon a dozen or so people mounted on horseback. They were blocking the path to town and he was anxious to get to the saloon where the women were easily bought and the whiskey gave him comfort.

Lucian Fontaine? The confident voice of a woman reached his ears, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand at attention.

Who is asking? This is it, he thought soberly. She had come for him.

Cackling laughter filled the night air as a torch was stretched from one mounted rider to the woman who had spoken. The glow of the torch illuminated her cocoa colored skin. Sitting strong on her mount with shoulders squared back, the eerie glow of her eyes was meant to send fear directly into the heart of anyone who dared to meet her face on. Who I am is of no importance. Are you Lucian Fontaine? the woman asked again with pronounced irritability.

Lucian knew by the covering on her head that it was the woman he feared most. I am. Do what you wish with me. I have cursed you already.

Your curse matters not to me, Lucian. You have committed crimes against my family and against the magical community. For this, your punishment has been rendered. You will hang for your crimes.

I’ve done nothing to your family! he seethed with revulsion.

You have murdered a child that was as a daughter to me. You have murdered a boy whose family is protected by our religion, and you have practiced a magic so dark that not even the devil would approve of it. For these things, you have been found guilty.

A man on horseback that Lucian recognized as one of the city’s premier politicians sidled up next to Lucian and took possession of his horse’s reins. Lucian spat, appalled that a man whom he had financially assisted was taking part in his demise. He should have known the rumors were true. This man was the lover of Ella’s mother and now he was working with her outside of the bedroom. How is it that you come to side against me? Does a whore’s wish take precedence over your city’s well-being? he asked, glaring at the man through the dark.

It is because of my desire to protect the city from you that I am here.

I doubt that! If the residents knew that you were bedding this whore, they would run you out of town!

Quite the contrary, another male voice rang out. The residents of New Orleans would gladly cheer him on. A second horse moved forward so that the rider’s face was visible under the torch’s blaze. Lucian recognized him, as well. He was the city’s chief of police. As the riders guided their horses and torches closer, Lucian realized the he recognized each and every person who had come to slay him.

If you find accusable fault with me then arrest me and we will settle this in court.

You have already been found guilty by your peers and will be hung on your property so that the ones you have slighted the most can bear witness to swift and true justice, Ella’s mother proclaimed. She was the daughter of Marie Laveau and she could no longer allow her people or Ms. Fontaine to continue being beaten, raped, and murdered. She had looked the other way for long enough. Claire’s death had seen her patience come to an end. Lucian would pay for what he had done. Mrs. Fontaine was unaware of what was occurring tonight and it was a secret that she would carry to her grave. Her love for Ms. Fontaine ran deep, as had her love for Claire. If Lucian had been sinister enough to kill his sole heir, he would not hesitate to come after Ella if the mood struck him. The vicious cycle of Lucian’s hatred would end tonight and the entire city of New Orleans as well as the residents and workers at the Fontaine Plantation would finally find the peace they deserved.

At the sound of approaching horses, Nate ran to his meager room inside the stable and roused his wife from her sleep. It’s time, he declared with a solemn face. Rushing back into the yard, Nate and his wife stood tall.

Lucian’s horse pranced with anxiety as it was halted in front of Nate and his wife. Lucian only briefly glared at them. The lowly plantation workers did not deserve his acknowledgement. It was beneath him to cower in their presence. He watched with head held high as more of his employees filed out of their quarters to witness his shame, but he would not show what he did not have. Eyeing each one, he silently stretched his standing curse to include each of them. Fools, he barked with hatred. You will pay for this! The ominous threat did not seem to affect them, but he alone knew the plans he had made and he looked forward to the future—his dead future—that this current circumstance would bring about.

He could hear the collective sigh of relief as those gathered watched with anticipation. He knew what they were thinking and loathed them for their uneducated thoughts. To them, their employer, tormentor, and rumored member of one of New Orleans’ two mafia crime families was finally about to reach the end of his demented life. Rather than excitement at the prospect of sending him to his death, the crowd was eerily somber.

I curse you and your families! Lucian growled as he and his demon horse were led to the large oak tree in the yard. The mob quietly followed behind.

"Our only curse is that we did not stop you before the children lost their lives," Ella’s mother replied icily.

A noose, which dangled from the lowest branch, hung unnervingly still as it waited to claim its victim. Nate had carefully fashioned the noose weeks ago in anticipation of this moment and had hung it when Lucian had ridden off into the night. This had been planned and he’d known it would come to pass. Ella’s mother had told him vengeance would swiftly come calling. She never went back on her word.

As the police chief pulled the noose down around Lucian’s neck and tightened it, Nate walked up to Lucian’s horse. As he took the reins, the wide-eyed animal moved from side to side. Nate ran his hand down the creature’s smooth neck as if to calm the horse. Lucian did not turn to look at the man glaring at him. With eyes straight ahead, he continued to mumble the curse that would one day come back to haunt them all.

Even though the words must have been practiced since Clyde’s death, Lucian pretended not to listen as the stable hand spoke. The spirits of our ancestors will not welcome you into the other side and the gods have forsaken you for your crimes. May the devil find a room for you in hell. Without saying another word Nate released the reins, made his way to the back of the horse and slapped its hind quarters. Without hesitation, the black stallion that had been Lucian’s only living love, abandoned its rider and left him swinging from a noose.

Three days; that’s the amount of time it took for Mrs. Fontaine to recover enough from the last beating she’d taken in order for her to be able to leave her bed. That’s how long it took before she ordered his remains to be cut down. For three days, ravens picked away at the corpse as the sweltering heat of the bayou blistered the flesh and the maggots began nibbling away at the rotted decay.

Mrs. Fontaine had eventually inquired about her husband’s death