Fire & Ice

  Rave Reviews for Fire & Ice

  “Vance Mangum landed a place on my all-time favorite book boyfriend list, and no one has been able to bump him off of it. I honestly can't put into words how much I loved Fire & Ice, and how excited I am for the next installment of Book of Shadows!!!”

  - Christina Silcox, Literary Redemption

  “What did I think of Fire & Ice? Well, if you could see my face right now, I think you'd know. I am completely, undeniably, irrevocably in love with these characters!”

  -Raquel Auriemma, Roc n’ Read

  “Oh my gosh! I absolutely loved this side of Vance! I think I love him even more now. Is that even possible?”

  -Valerie Higgins, Book Minions

  “Vance Mangum will have you swooning so hard, you’ll wish you were Portia. This must-read romance will capture your heart and soul, leaving you begging for MORE!”

  - Belinda Boring, Bestselling Author of The Mystic Wolves

  “You'll find yourself bound to Fire & Ice; I couldn't put it down! Another spell has been cast by Lacey Weatherford and I'm left wanting more!!”

  - Toni Blair, Reader

  “I just finished reading Fire & Ice and it made me fall in love with Vance all over again. Lacey, you sucked me in!”

  -JoAnna Montoya, Book Minions

  “Fire & Ice was the icing on the cake for me. It reminded me of my love for Vance . . . and re-enforced why Lacey Weatherford is a best selling author. She has an ability to create a whole character world that keeps the reader engaged, as if this was truly happening.

  - Lisa Markson, The Paranormal Bookworm

  Other books by

  Lacey Weatherford

  Of Witches and Warlocks series:

  The Trouble with Spells

  The Demon Kiss

  Blood of the White Witch

  The Dark Rising

  Possession of Souls

  Chasing Nikki series:

  Chasing Nikki

  Finding Chase

  Crush Series:

  Crush

  Smitten

  Anthology:

  A Midsummer Night’s Fling

  Faery Kissed

  FIRE & ICE

  Copyright © 2013 Moonstruck Media

  and Lacey Weatherford

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Published by

  Moonstruck Media

  Arizona

  Kindle Edition

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Acknowledgments

  Special thanks goes to my Beta Readers Elite team who so kindly made room in their lives to help me out! I’ll never be able to show you how much I appreciate you!

  I’d also like to thank my best friend, Bels, who put me in touch with some of her industry people when I needed last minute help.

  Thank you to Kim at Red Line Editing, for squeezing me in, and to Jessi Gibson for giving her spot up for me. Girl, you are a true friend!

  Also, thank you to Hope Welsh for doing my proof reading. I’m so thankful to be able to work with you all!

  And as always, thank you to my husband, James, and my assistant, Brenda, who keep everything else running smoothly so I can write! I love you both so much!!

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to all my readers who begged and begged for me to please write more Vance. I hope you will enjoy the story from his perspective. Thanks so much for your support and loyalty. It has truly warmed my heart!!

  Prologue

  Journal Entry:

  Time passes . . . sometimes too quickly, other times not fast enough; but that’s not what’s important. The essential thing is what we learn about ourselves during that passage of time and how we apply it. Will we continue to follow the destructive paths we find ourselves on? Will we give in to circumstances that seem completely unchangeable? Or will we desperately fight to hold on to what’s good inside us—no matter how terrible the cost?

  It’s customary for those of the magical community to keep a Book of Shadows—a journal of sorts—with both normal and magical entries telling of their journey through life. This is mine.

  My name is Vance Mangum, and this is my story.

  Chapter One

  Journal Entry:

  I’m angry, pissed at the world right now, and pretty much everything in it. I’m so tired of all this shit. I hate running—hate always looking over my shoulder. Right now, I should be exhausted from spending the night on the beach with a beautiful girl, not from driving all night long. This isn’t living. It’s existing . . . it’s being prey to someone else’s whim. I’m not sure how much more I can take.

  ***

  Laughter filled the air and I couldn’t stop grinning as I chased Amber down the moonlit beach, her short white sundress rippling behind her, giving the appearance of a mystical apparition floating through the dark.

  I reached out, snaking my arm around her waist, and the two of us tumbled down into the sand, wrapping ourselves around each other as our lips connected, pressing frantically together. Breaths mingled in short, fast puffs as hands quickly explored one another’s bodies.

  “Vance.” Amber’s voice cut through my senses. “What about the others?”

  Lifting my head, I glanced to where the large bonfire burned brightly, illuminating the cliff face and the figures of the teens gathered around it.

  “Everyone’s drinking or making out. They probably haven’t even noticed we’re gone,” I replied, finding her lips once more. We were close enough to the water that the edge of the waves repeatedly washed over my bare feet, leaving them feeling cold. But the rest of me was raging hot.

  I knew Amber felt the same way. She stared at me in the dim moonlight, her pale strawberry blonde hair spread across the sand beneath her. I couldn’t see the tiny freckles that lightly covered her nose, but I knew where they all were. I’d kissed every single one. And even in the dim light, I was aware that her skin was flushed right now and she was as turned on as I was.

  “Tonight’s our two month anniversary,” she said, tracing my lips with her fingertips. “Did you remember?”

  I nodded. Time was something I always paid attention to—especially when it came to relationships. Hiding out and being on the run hadn’t afforded me many opportunities to cultivate lasting connections with other people. It was something I longed for and craved. Yes, I’d counted every minute with Amber, never knowing when it would abruptly come to an end.

  Normally I was wiser than this, choosing to stay away from making friends or having girlfriends. It hurt too badly when I had to leave them behind. But Amber managed to wheedle her way into my life, constantly inviting me to things and asking me to hang out with her. Giving in became easier than trying to resist; and now here we were, two months later, and I knew everything was about to change between us tonight.

  My lips found hers again, and I thought of all the times we’d made out heavily before calling a halt to things. I didn’t want to do that this time. I wanted to be with her.

  It felt like we kissed and stroked each other for hours, until I wa
s so on fire I could barely stand it. Slipping the straps of her dress off her shoulders, I pressed my lips to the bare skin there, trailing lower as I revealed more and more. She didn’t try to stop me, and I knew she wanted this too.

  Her hands traveled over my bare chest down to the edge of my swim trunks, and I detected the tremor in them as she paused there.

  My blood roared in my ears. “Don’t be afraid,” I whispered, encouraging her to continue along her path of exploration. This girl might not be a witch, but the things she made me feel seemed pretty magical. Her hands slid lower and my breath caught for a moment. This was really going to happen—right here, right now.

  Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my pocket and I jerked back a bit, before groaning and leaning my head against hers.

  She started giggling. “Are you going to answer it?”

  “No,” I replied firmly, even though I knew my aunt Marsha would be furious if I didn’t. She’d practically drilled it into me that my phone was to never leave my person, if at all possible. She wanted to be able to reach me at all times. I really hated it.

  The phone quit ringing and I slipped my tongue inside Amber’s mouth once more; anxious to rekindle things back in the direction we’d been headed. I pressed hard against her and she wrapped her legs around my waist, eliciting a moan of encouragement from me.

  My phone vibrated again and I rolled off her with a grunt of disgust, fishing it out. “What?” I said rather rudely when I saw Marsha’s number on the caller ID.

  “Run, Vance!” her voice screamed frantically. “He’s found us! Stick to the plan!”

  I was on my feet before the call was disconnected, racing down the beach to where my motorcycle was parked.

  “Vance?” Amber’s voice called after me, but I didn’t stop or hesitate. “Vance? What’s wrong? What happened?”

  I didn’t turn around or respond; instead, I clenched my jaw resolutely. This had always been a possibility; yet, I still made the choice to get involved with her. Well, I couldn’t let her be involved anymore. It wasn’t safe—not with him in the picture.

  Paying no attention to the fact that I’d left the rest of my belongings behind on the beach, I continued to run—my bare feet occasionally hitting rocks, sending sharp pains through them. I didn’t slow until I reached my bike, pausing only long enough to hop on and kick start the engine before racing off down the road.

  My heart hammered in my chest and I pushed aside the images of Amber lying beneath me, as I maneuvered my way toward the designated meeting place, behind an old abandoned gas station.

  Marsha was already waiting for me, standing outside the car. Quickly taking in my appearance, she rushed to the trunk and pulled out the clothes she always kept there, in case of emergency. She thrust them at me.

  “You didn’t answer your phone,” she stated flatly.

  “I was busy,” I replied, swiftly changing.

  “So I can see.”

  Narrowing my eyes at her, I shoved my legs into the jeans. “What do you mean?”

  “Exactly what I said. That hickey on your neck is huge.”

  I snorted, buttoning my pants and reaching for the shirt. “It’s dark. You can’t see anything.”

  “There’s plenty of light to see that.” She glanced around. “We’ll talk about it later. We need to get going.”

  “Did you get my book?” I asked.

  “Of course, and the athame. You know I’d never leave those behind.”

  “Thanks.” I shoved my feet into the boots, not bothering to lace them. Slinging on my leather jacket, I went back and mounted the bike, grabbing my helmet. “See you at the hotel.”

  “I’ll follow you,” she replied, climbing back into her car.

  I didn’t wait for her. My engine roared to life and I gassed the throttle hard, peeling out and sending a spray of loose rocks and gravel into the air in a cloud of dust.

  I was pissed and sick of running. I couldn’t believe we were doing it again.

  The cool air rushed by, but it did nothing to calm my temperament. Numbly, I began shutting everything down, encasing myself in the hard protective shell I always reverted to. My safe place—I allowed no one in and nothing was getting out. It was where I sent my emotions to die a slow death from neglect. It was easier to ignore things than try to deal with them.

  Marsha and I continued to drive, pausing during our escape only to refill the vehicles, when necessary, and to take hour-long catnaps at rest areas when we felt it dangerous to continue on no sleep. We didn’t stop until we hit the small, ancient looking hotel in Flagstaff, Arizona. She paid cash, checking us in, and I stumbled to the first bed and collapsed in exhaustion.

  “What’s the plan, now?” I asked, wondering where we were headed.

  “I think I may have found a coven not far from here that we can stay with,” she replied, surprising me.

  “Do you think that’s wise?”

  “We need help, Vance. He always manages to find us. We need people who can help to shield and protect us.”

  “What makes this group different from any others we’ve met?” Dragging other people into this situation always made me nervous.

  “One of the leaders has experience in this kind of thing.” She yawned and pulled back the covers of her bed before sitting down and facing me. “I’ll fill you in after we get some sleep, okay?”

  I wanted to press her for more answers, but I could see the dark circles beneath her eyes. She looked pale and thin and her clothes hung on her. I realized she’d lost weight. Things had been rough on her too.

  “Sleep sounds perfect,” I said, truly meaning it. I closed my eyes, not even bothering to get more comfortable; and, for the first time, I allowed myself to really think about the girl I’d left behind. Images of us tangled together on the beach washed through my mind. Suddenly, beads of sweat broke out across my forehead.

  What in the hell had I been thinking? Groaning, I rolled to my side. I hadn’t been thinking at all—that was the problem—and I could’ve made a huge mess out of everything. Running a hand through my hair, a sigh escaped me. I didn’t even have protection, for crying out loud. I could’ve gotten her pregnant if we’d followed through. All the possible outcomes of that scenario ran through my mind, leaving me in a near panic. I needed to be more careful. It wasn’t fair for me to do this to someone else. Marsha had raised me to be responsible. I knew better.

  Physical relationships were going to be out of the question for me. I couldn’t be intimate with someone if I was always running. I needed to wait until things were more stable in my life, and who knew when that might be.

  Chapter Two

  Journal Entry: Evoking a spell of forgetting.

  Ingredients: A white candle, small glass bowl, passionflower extract, lavender oil, spell.

  Light candle for good energy. Combine 20 drops of passionflower extract with 10 drops of lavender oil in the glass bowl. Swirl contents together and hold over candle flame, allowing the potion to warm and release its scent into the air. Passionflower will help to soothe your subject’s nervous tension and anxiety, while lavender works as a deep calming agent. Wave your hand through the scent, pushing it in the direction of the person you are working the spell on. Focus on their mind while reciting the following spell:

  Divine powers hear my plea,

  Remove, (insert person’s name) memory.

  But only those that harm may do,

  The memory of me and you.

  Let them fade into the past,

  And do not the anguish last.

  ***

  When the spell was complete, I slumped back into the chair, running a hand across my face and into my messy hair. My gaze fell on the ingredients of my impromptu spell. Thankfully, Flagstaff had a fairly prominent new age and metaphysical following and I’d been able to find the supplies I needed. My glass bowl was actually a shot glass, but one had to make due with what was available sometimes.

  Inhaling deeply, I tried to let the s
oothing herbs calm my frantic mind. Too bad this spell wouldn’t work on me, or better yet, my dad. That would make things a whole lot easier. Unfortunately, this type of magic would only work on the mind of someone without powers; and even then, it wasn’t a complete mind wipe.

  Intruding into someone else’s life and messing with their memories went completely against my personal code of ethics. I didn’t like doing it.

  “Sometimes we have to do things we don’t like to protect others.” I could hear Marsha’s voice ringing in my ears.

  “It borders on black magic.” I’d argued. “You can’t tear into someone else’s mind and not expect it to come back and bite you.”

  “Then be gentle with your spell. Manipulate it so it does no harm.”

  This spell was just that, almost like a comforting blanket to cover the mind. If someone stirred that blanket, memories would come to the surface, but with only faint recollection. From this point on, Amber would think I was merely some insignificant person who’d passed through her life.

  In reality, I realized now, that’s all I ever could be to anyone. There was no point in getting attached to people in the future, until things were resolved with my dad; and frankly, I didn’t see how that would ever happen.

  The lock in the door popped open. Marsha entered the room with a wide smile, her blonde curls bouncing as she dangled a set of keys in front of her face.

  “We got it! It’s not a big place—only a small two bedroom cottage, really—but it’s super charming and comes fully furnished.”

  I gave her a halfhearted grin, wishing I could share her enthusiasm.

  “Come on, Vance! Don’t be like that.” Her eyes sparkled with delight. “I feel good about this place. I had lunch with the High Priest and Priestess of this coven, Sean Mullins, and his mother, Milly. They’re amazing! I think we’ll fit right in with them.”