Hidden (house of night) by p. c. cast, kristin cast  pdf download
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Hidden (house of night) by p. c. cast, kristin cast pdf download



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Hidden (house of night) by p. c. cast, kristin cast pdf download Document Transcript

  • 1. The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you for your personal use only. You may not makethis e-book publicly available in any way. Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believethe copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify thepublisher at: us.macmillanusa.com/piracy.
  • 2. This is for those of you who have made mistakes, and who are brave enough to correct them, and wise enough to learn from them.
  • 3. ACKNOWLEDGMENTSKristin and I would like to thank our St. Martin’s family. We so appreciate that our team loves the Houseof Night world as much as we do! A special THANK-YOU to our hard-working production staff formeeting those tight deadlines! You guys are awesomesauce! Once again we’d like to voice our appreciation for our Tulsa community. Your support and enthusiasmfor the House of Night humbles and moves us. We are proud to call Tulsa home. Thank you, CZ. You know why. XXXOOO As always, we thank our friend and agent, Meredith Bernstein, without whom the House of Night wouldnot exist. We heart you!
  • 4. CONTENTS Title Page Copyright Notice Dedication Acknowledgments Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 About the AuthorsAlso by P. C. and Kristin Cast Copyright
  • 5. CHAPTER ONE LenobiaLenobia’s sleep was so restless that the familiar dream took on a sense of reality that overstepped theethereal realm of subconscious outlets and fantasies and became, from the beginning, all tooheartbreakingly real. It began with a memory. Decades, and then centuries fell away leaving Lenobia young and naïve again,and in the cargo hold of the ship that had carried her from France to America—from one world to another.It was during that journey that Lenobia had met Martin, the man who should have been her Mate for hisentire life. Instead he had died too young and had taken her love to the grave with him. In her dream Lenobia could feel the gentle roll of the ship and smell the scent of horse and hay, sea andfish—and Martin. Always Martin. He was standing before her, gazing down at her through eyes that wereolive and amber and worried. She had just told him she loved him. “It is impossible.” The dream memory replayed in her mind as Martin reached out, took her hand, andlifted it gently. He raised his own arm until the two were side by side. “You see the difference, you?” The dreaming Lenobia made a small, wordless exclamation of pain. The sound of his voice! Thatdistinct Creole accent——deep, sensual, unique. It was the bittersweet sound of his voice and itsbeautiful accent that had kept Lenobia away from New Orleans for more than two hundred years. “No,” the young Lenobia had answered his question as she gazed down at their arms—one brown, onewhite—where they pressed together. “All I see is you.” Still deeply asleep, Lenobia, Horse Mistress of the Tulsa House of Night, moved restlessly, as if herbody was attempting to force her mind to awaken. But this night her mind did not obey. This night dreamsand what might have been ruled. The sequence of memories shifted and changed to another scene, still in the cargo hold of the sameship, still with Martin, but days later. He was handing her a long string of leather tied to a small pouchdyed a deep sapphire blue. Martin put it around her neck saying, “This gris-gris protect you, cherie.” In the space of a heartbeat the memory wavered and time fast-forwarded a century. An older, wiser,more cynical Lenobia was cradling the crumbling leather pouch in her hands as it split and spilled itcontents—thirteen things, just as Martin had told her—but most of them had become unrecognizableduring the century she’d worn the charm. Lenobia remembered a faint scent of juniper, the smooth feel ofthe clay pebble before it turned to dust, and the tiny dove’s feather that had crumbled between her fingers.But most of all Lenobia remembered the fleeting rush of joy she’d felt when, in the midst of thedisintegrating remnants of Martin’s love and protection, she’d discovered something that time hadn’t beenable to ravage. It had been a ring—a heart-shaped emerald, surrounded by tiny diamonds, set in gold. “Your mother’s heart—your heart—my heart,” Lenobia had whispered as she’d slipped it over theknuckle of her ring finger. “I still miss you, Martin. I’ve never forgotten. I vowed it.” And then the dream memories rewound again, taking Lenobia back to Martin, only this time theyweren’t at sea finding one another in the cargo hold and falling in love. This memory was dark andterrible. Even dreaming, Lenobia knew the place and the date: New Orleans, March 21, 1788, not longafter sunset.