The Sparrow and the Vixens Three

By Lynda Miller

Jillie Hart (code name - the Sparrow) teams up with mysterious agent and shapeshifter Griff Ryland, (aka The Hawk) for the NAS agency (Normal, Abnormal, and Strange) in the case of the deadly Carmaletta Choker.

Now the choker's curse is more powerful than ever, and the universe hovers on the brink of collapse. While most of the world remains unaware, in Hollywood, a new production company is casting a film about a necklace with mystical powers - a tale eerily reminiscent of the Carmaletta Choker. Jillie and Griff are determined to stay close to the action, so they pair up again under the guise of shooting a documentary - this one on the making of the new film.

They are unaware that Declan, the sinister shape shifter who had previously possessed the necklace, and Gailan, an ancient earth mother who dwells in The Garden of the Gods, have teamed up with three Japanese werefoxes who are masquerading as stunningly beautiful women. Their plan? To seduce Griff into joining the side of evil and helping them recover the necklace.

Conflicted by her mixed feelings of love, desire, and anger toward Griff's betrayal, Jillie has no choice . . . To save the world, The Sparrow must first save The Hawk. And to do that, she's going to have to prove to the seductive werefoxes - and herself - that what Griff needs is real woman!

• Language: English
• Publisher: BelleBooks
• Release date: Apr 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781611944563

Book preview

desperately.

ImaJinn Titles by Lynda Miller

The Sparrow and the Hawk

(Tales of the Sparrow, Book 1)

The Sparrow and the Vixens Three

(Tales of the Sparrow, Book 2)

The Sparrow

and

The Vixens Three

(Tales of the Sparrow, Book 2)

by

Lynda Miller

ImaJinn Books

Copyright

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events or locations is entirely coincidental.

ImaJinn Books

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Ebook ISBN: 978-1-61194-456-3

Print ISBN: 978-1-61194-479-2

ImaJinn Books is an Imprint of BelleBooks, Inc.

Copyright © 2014 by Lynn Miller

Printed and bound in the United States of America.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

ImaJinn Books was founded by Linda Kichline.

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10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Cover design: Josephine Piraneo

Interior design: Hank Smith

Photo/Art credits:

Couple © Kim Killion

Garden of the gods © brm1949

:Evsw:01:

Dedication

To Linda Kichline, now flying high.

Thank you.

Prologue

THEY CAME OUT of the Garden of the Gods, three vixens sliding sinuously through the brittle, sunbaked vegetation that hugged the red rock formations like bodyguards. They stopped and sniffed the air, seeking evidence of danger. Reassured, they silently climbed the path to the summit, passing the Balanced Rock, then detouring around the Three Graces as they moved toward the massive sculptured sandstone that formed the profile of one of the Ancient Ones.

The moonlight was cool, illuminating the rocky landscape that formed this ancient and holy land of the spirits. A land steeped in ageless mystery, much like their own. This was a land revered, both mystical and respectable, a land that created life and then challenged it to survive.

As one, they climbed to the top of a hill to view the primeval rough-hewn rock that rose majestically in front of them, towering above all others. As one, the vixens stopped before the ancient edifice, bowing their heads in respect, their foxy faces intense . . . different, yet the same. There was one whose fur shone the palest gold, one whose fur gleamed jet black, and one whose fur glistened with the frosty fire of pure silver.

The silver one, the oldest, wisest, and most powerful, spoke. We have come from the mountains of our Japanese home to this holy place at the request of our Elder. We were sent, great Ancient One, in response to your call. So, Great Mother, tell us your wishes.

Great Mother, tell us your wishes, the other two vixens echoed respectfully.

Silence answered them.

They spoke again, their voices melodious in the still, cool air. Oh revered one, speak to us.

The Ancient’s voice filled their ears with the thunder of a rockslide as her primordial stone profile turned toward them, gradually taking on more human characteristics that were as terrible to behold, as they were beautiful. There is a tremendous force that has escaped and is now loose in the world. It is an evil force, a force with ancient powers that must belong to the Ancient Ones, to the ones who know how to use those powers to the fullest.

What is this force, Great Mother? the silver one asked.

The Elder spoke in a raspy whisper that sent shivers down each vixen’s spine. The force is evil, evil in its purest form, evil masquerading as beauty. It resides in the Carmaletta Choker, hidden from this world until now. Now that it has been found and is visible, the choker has the power to unleash chaos into the world.

Who has the choker now?

It was rediscovered by Franklin Doherty, a seeker who in turn was destroyed by his desire to master the power. He now wanders through eternity as a child spirit accompanied by the shade of his mummie. Another seeker, Declan the Dark One, a formidable shape-shifter, took the choker from Franklin and sought to increase its power through black magic, but he also failed to conquer it completely. He has disappeared, but it might not still be his.

What do you desire of us, Great Mother? the silver one asked.

Go forth. You must find and enchant those who seek to possess the choker.

Are there others besides those already known, Ancient One? the black vixen asked.

"Yes. One powerful seeker is known as Griff the Golden One, also a powerful shape-shifter. There is also Jillie, the woman he loves, who is a force in her own right. She, too, seeks the choker. But they seek to destroy it, not use it. This cannot be."

How will we find them? the black one questioned.

You have no need to seek. They will come to you when you tell a familiar story, a story with great meaning that attracts the seekers, a story that seduces all those who hear it. A story about a great jewel with the power to change the world. A story that seems imaginary, but will become true. The real jewels will come back into the light as you tell the tale, and so will all those who seek the power.

And then? asked the pale gold one.

You strike. You will make those who pursue the power burn with passion, burn bright, burn hot, and burn to ashes. When you obtain the precious jewels, return to me.

One by one the vixens bowed their heads, acquiescing to the demand. They turned away, looking up at the moon as a dark cloud slid across its face. They paused, embracing the darkness like a cloak. When the light reappeared, they continued on the path down the mountain. But the darkness had changed the vixens. In their place stood three beautiful women. They were the Kitsune, the werefoxes of Japanese legend, spirits whose vixen forms could change into those of seductresses when necessary. Their beauty was touched by special magic, the magic they used to enchant and enslave humans. Each wore a pearl around her neck, both as vixen and as woman. The pearl was their life force, a gem to be protected at all costs. Without it they were nothing more than a whisper on the wind.

Tall, voluptuous, and sensual they stood: Diana, the youngest, whose hair was the palest gold, with eyes glowing spring green; Delilah, the halfling, whose hair was the darkest black, with eyes glowing the green of summer; and finally, Delphie, the oldest, whose tresses shone like the richest silver, with eyes glowing emerald green. The vixens looked from one to another and smiled, each acknowledging the power of their own beauty. Then again, as one, they continued down the path to their destination.

HIGH ABOVE THE Garden of the Gods perched a raven, hidden on his rocky roost by the dark shadows he favored. Still as death, Declan the Dark One watched and listened to the Ancient Goddess and her three vixens. The jewels will be drawn back to the light as their story is told, so the Ancient One said. Could locating the choker be that simple, he wondered? A story must be told. He could tell this story using man’s technology as well as magic.

He would make a film, a movie that once seen would subliminally deliver the choker’s message to all who viewed it, thus extending its influence even further than he’d dreamed. The three Kitsune would try to use him to accomplish their goal, he knew, but instead he would use them for his own. They would make his movie, but in the end, he would take the prize.

His eyes gleamed as he thought of once again holding the powers of the Carmaletta Choker in his hands, as he had during his Black Mass a few nights ago. In order to release all of the choker’s innate evil, he’d held a black magic ceremony with the help of Mirilanda, his witch assistant. During the ritual, he’d felt a small portion of the choker’s powers race through his body, a sensation so overwhelming that he’d do anything, dare anything, just to feel the thrill of evil again.

He ruffled his feathers as he anticipated once more clashing with Griff, the Golden One, his longtime enemy. Griff was another shape-shifter who was hot on the trail of the choker. And when he thought of challenging Jillie Harte, code name Sparrow, the NAS agent assigned to locate the choker and Griff’s partner, he almost crowed in delight. Both she and Griff were worthy adversaries, but now that the ancient earth goddess and the three Kitsune were in the picture, life was about to get very, very interesting.

Chapter One

JILLIE HARTE, CODE name Sparrow, a documentary filmmaker and undercover agent for the NAS (Normal, Abnormal, and Strange) Agency, felt the ground rumble and shift as she drove onto the picturesque campus of Ardmore College, located in a secluded area outside Cincinnati, Ohio.

She’d always felt at home here at her Alma Mater, but not this time. Today was different. Today, she knew her mother was alive, not dead as she’d been told so many years ago, as she’d bounced alone from home to home. Not only was her mother alive, but the woman also seemed to have magical powers.

Even more disconcerting, she had also come to the realization today that as much as she had fought against it, and as angry as she was that he’d hidden vital information from her, she was falling in love with her so-called partner, the man sitting in the car next to her. She slid him a sideways glance. Except for being one of the sexiest men on two feet, he wasn’t what he had seemed either. Griff Ryland was not only a cameraman who’d been working on the documentary Jillie was using as a cover story in her search for the Carmaletta Choker, he was also a shape-shifter. Not only that, he was working for another agency that was determined to find the choker before the curse was activated and it destroyed the world.

So, even as they’d worked together to find the choker, Griff had had a completely different agenda. She also strongly suspected that his promises of love and assertion that they were destined to be together were made to soften her up, to make her forget her duty to NAS concerning the choker. Sadly enough, she’d been tempted, very tempted. She was still tempted. Griff was quite a charismatic package. He possessed a long, lean, well-built body with the face of a sexy angel. He looked as if he should be starring in a commercial, one where a cowboy races across the plains on a sleek horse with a passionate woman plastered against him, a pulsating soundtrack accompanying his every move.

You still mad at me? Griff asked, lifting a brow, his voice light but his eyes serious.

She spared him a sideways look. The way I feel about you is too intense to be called mad.

He grinned, bravado still on display. I like the sound of that.

You shouldn’t, Jillie said shortly. You lied to me. You knew my mother was alive, and yet you said nothing.

Your mother’s story was not mine to tell.

It directly affected our mission. It was your duty to tell me everything you knew about my mother and the choker.

He frowned. My duty was, and is, complicated by some other issues.

Other issues? Like the fact that you swallowed an evil potion that can make you turn to the dark side at any time? A little issue like that, you mean?

He swiveled on his seat and stretched out his hand to grip her shoulder. I give you my word. I didn’t know the chocolate I drank at Nigel’s house had been doctored. I only realized it when it started squirming through my body, once I’d swallowed the mixture.

I still don’t understand why he offered you that tainted chocolate drink as a refreshment. What did he have to gain?

I believe Nigel was initially just playing around with Franklin and his evil rituals. But it got out of hand; Nigel got in too deep. I don’t know what he was promised in return for embracing the dark side, but Declan compelled him to prove that he was serious. I think the test was more than Nigel bargained for.

Jillie nodded, following his thought process to its inevitable conclusion. So by offering you tainted chocolate, he was showing his commitment to Declan’s cause, the triumph of evil.

You’ve forgotten something, Jillie. Nigel offered the chocolate to both of us, not just me.

But I refused.

Yes. You did. Griff rubbed his chin thoughtfully. I thought I could overcome any trick, but I was wrong. Still, you saw me fighting against the drug. I came out on the right side at the end, didn’t I? Nigel Davenport was the one taken to hell, right alongside Franklin Doherty and his wraith of a mother. Not me.

She sent him a dark stare. Regardless, I don’t trust you, Griff Ryland. After the Carmaletta Choker disappeared with Declan and Mirilanda during his dark mass two nights ago, I told you that I would work with you to recover the choker if NAS orders me to do so. But any personal involvement between us is over. The minute we find the jewels and I get them back to NAS, I walk away from you . . . for good.

She felt a painful twinge as she met Griff’s fierce blue gaze. She rapidly looked away, determined that he’d never know how much it hurt her to say those words. He’d been trying to convince her that there was a personal connection between them, as if they were bound together and had been since the dawn of time. Jillie had been denying it, but in her heart she knew it was true. There was something between them, something that had connected them since the first moment their eyes met across a hotel lobby in San Francisco a week ago. Even as Jillie denied it, their connection had woven chains around her heart as they worked together to locate the choker. Then they discovered it in Franklin Doherty’s possession and pursued it as it passed into the evil hands of Franklin’s mentor, Declan Omart.

Her car hit a bump and slid sideways, jerking her attention back to her driving. The rumble in the ground that she had felt a few minutes ago grew stronger. It was obvious enough that Griff also noticed it as he reached to brace himself against the car’s dashboard.

What the hell is—

Before Jillie could answer, the car started bucking like a wild thing, the road undulating as if a series of large waves had rushed right under her car. Jillie wrenched the steering wheel to the left in an attempt to avoid the heaving blacktop. The car turned in repeated circles before skewing to a stop at the end of the parking lot, just missing a tree.

Was that an earthquake? Jillie asked, staring out the windshield in shock. But . . .

But there’s no evidence that one hit. The parking lot is still as smooth as glass, Griff said, slowly looking around. There’s no trace of destruction.

She was silent for a long moment before squaring her shoulders. You think it was a warning?

If it was meant to get our attention, it worked.

Jillie looked at the old gray stone buildings—ivy clung to all vertical surfaces, and the walls were enlivened by the decorative red tiles and mullioned windows that formed the college’s architecture. The campus now seemed so serene, so at odds with the calamitous events that had filled the past few days that Jillie’s tension level jumped from tense to red scale alert.

It looks so peaceful here, Griff said. You wouldn’t expect to find an agency devoted to protecting the world from magic, myth, and mayhem to be located in a place like this.

That was my reaction, but the people who created NAS knew better. By hiding a high-tech agency in the middle of a timeless-looking college campus, NAS has been flying under the radar for a long time.

Griff pointed at the road. Not anymore.

Jillie glanced at him before starting the car and driving over to the Building of Cultural Knowledge. No, not anymore. Now that the Carmaletta Choker has been located by Franklin Doherty and activated by Declan and Mirilanda, the curse is already spreading evil and destruction.

Griff waved his hand at the blacktop as Jillie warily started the car. We’d better report in and see what your Dr. Cal can make of all this.

She turned into the driveway leading to a large connected complex of buildings separated from the rest of the campus. She drove around the back to a small parking lot where she hopped out of the car and headed for the building, gesturing that Griff follow.

I was an undergrad student here, spending most of my time here in the School for Cultural Knowledge before going on to film school, she said. She stepped up to a hidden entrance obscured by a dense fall of ivy. The door appeared after she keyed in a code on her watch—a.k.a. a multi-function WPAU, or Wrist Portable Access Unit. Once inside, Jillian faced a handprint-sensor access door. After being identified, she and Griff emerged into a small room.

Griff looked around at the area that resembled an antique steam heating room and laughed. This is your example of high-tech?

You don’t agree? Jillie asked, grinning as she moved aside some rusty pressure gauges to reveal a concealed panel. She punched in her personal code, which was confirmed by another elaborate system of checks and approvals. A few seconds later, another hidden entrance revealed an elevator. They stepped inside.

When the door whispered open at the seventh floor, Jillie and Griff stepped into a dim hallway. The corridor was deserted. Jillie moved swiftly down the hall to another door and placed her palm on the sensor. Gaining access, she led Griff into a huge open area with no windows and very few people.

You want high-tech, you got it, Jillie said, waving at the banks of computers and projection screens. She proceeded to another long hallway, turning left at the end before pausing in front of an odd-looking wooden door, one that seemed strangely out of place in the sleek progressive environment.

What are these symbols? Griff asked, pointing at a series of three spirals carved in the wood.

Jillie studied them. I don’t know. I’ve never noticed.

You’ve never noticed this door? Griff asked, incredulity apparent in his tone.

Of course I noticed, but the door was just a door when I reported to work.

There were no symbols?

No. She reached out to touch the wood, her fingertips gently following the spirals. Then the panels changed as she looked at them, adding a square and a circle to the spirals. Did you see that?

Griff nodded. Symbols can have positive or negative power. So maybe these ones are protecting what’s inside.

Dr. Cal is inside, she whispered.

Then he’s obviously beefing up his security.

To protect him from what? she asked, worry apparent in her voice.

Maybe things like the choker’s curse, or an earthquake that wasn’t one.

Jillie started to knock, but before she could rap on the wood, the door opened. With an apprehensive look back at her partner, she stepped inside. Griff followed right behind her.

Her uncle, Dr. Cal Walters, Dean of the School of Cultural Knowledge at Ardmore and the Director of the NAS Agency, sat at his desk. His assistant, Audra MacRae, stood next to him. Both of them wore expressions of frozen astonishment as they looked at Jillie and Griff.

After a long minute, Dr. Cal surged to his feet. He was a tall man, with a healthy head of white hair, a sharp beak of a nose, and the slightly