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LENGTH: Full Novel
SENSUALITY: Sensual

Cover art (c) Jenny Dixon 2006
ISBN 1-58608-911-0
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Caught up in the spell woven round her by the magical voice of the handsome Prince Gabriel, Jade is driven to betray her dangerous mother for the man she has come to love. Risking her own life to save him, she goes to appeal to her enemy, Prince Raphael, to come to her aid and help her to rescue the prince from the Dark Isle before it it is too late.

Rating: Contains sexual content, adult language, and violence.

THE DARK ISLE

By

Sarah J. McNeal

© June 2006 Sarah J. McNeal

Cover art by Jenny Dixon, © copyright June 2006

ISBN 1-58608-911-0

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Acknowledgement

I want to thank my family and friends who supported me in my efforts and had the faith in me to believe that I could go from writer to author, especially Kathy Groce, Debbie Gudenzi, Betsy Burkart, Donnita Belton and Thomas Freeman. I also want to thank the editors of New Concept Publishing, Inc. for allowing me an opportunity to publish my work.

Prologue

Deep, deep beneath the ancient, crumbling stones of the black castle, seated on the Dark Isle in the middle of the Lake of Sorrows, there below the dust and cobwebs, lay Mahara, the creature of the Black Blood and the Old Clan. In the pitch black confines of this place where the smell of death and evil would choke the breath of any innocent, lay her stone-still form. Before the spell was cast upon her, Mahara was one of the most formidable and diabolical beings to ever occupy space on Earth.

For years she lay there on the granite lid of her own tomb. Under a spell cast by her stepsister, Varoosh, she lay as an alabaster statue with her cold beauty still evident on her smooth face and her long, slender form. Her unbound ebony hair fell over the slab and onto the floor where it pooled like a frozen waterfall. Her bat-like wings spread out beneath her as if she were about to take flight.

From the rounded swell of her belly the small sound of a tiny heartbeat echoed in the dark, empty room. The heartbeat was the only sound in the room aside from the scurrying of the occasional rat or the soft slither of a snake.

Atop the spiral stairs that curved into the depths of the Dark Isle, a door scraped open on its ancient, rusted hinges and a figure entered holding a candle to light the way as it moved down the stairs into the bowels of the castle. The figure advanced down the stairs until it stood at the foot of the tomb on which Mahara’s stone form lay. His eyes glowed red at the sound of the heartbeat. A clawed hand reached out and caressed the rounded belly from which the heartbeat came.

The dim form blew a frigid breath into the air, and candles lit themselves in profusion around the stone figure. The glow of their light gleamed on the smooth, cold skin of Mahara.

The creature took up his position at Mahara’s feet. He kissed both her feet and said in a growling, deep voice, “Blessed be thy feet that have brought thee in these ways.” Then he kissed her knees. “Blessed be thy knees that shall kneel at the blood-drenched altar.” The creature moved up and caressed the rounded, naked belly with both hands, then kissed the cold surface. “Blessed be thy womb,” he said, “for it shelters the fruit that shall save us.” He kissed her stone breasts, fondled them, and suckled the cold, hard nipples. “Blessed be thy breasts formed in beauty to nourish thy gift and thy master.” Lastly, the demon kissed her lips and ran its black tongue along the groove between them. “Blessed be thy lips that shall utter the sacred names of the damned and bring them forth.”

Having completed the fivefold kiss, the demon leaped onto the tomb and laid himself over the stone figure. The stone began to soften and grow warm. Mahara drew in her first breath in many years and opened her eyes to look into the eyes of the demon. “Suck nourishment from my breasts and pierce me with thy wondrous sword, my beautiful Inx, for I have been long without thy pleasure.”

Inx eagerly set to the task she set for him. He suckled her breasts until her nipples ached with wanting, then he slid his male organ between her legs and pumped its great length in and out of her with abandon. They arched and flexed on the tomb, throwing shadows on the candlelit walls until, at last, they screamed out in climactic ecstasy.

As soon as Inx withdrew his still hard length from her loins, she began to heave with labor. She moaned and cried out as she writhed upon the stone. She gave a great cry as her womb thrust the infant from her body followed by blood and birthing fluid. Inx tied the cord with twine made from human hair and bit the cord in two with his pointed teeth.

The infant, a beautiful, black-haired female, gave a lusty cry just before her mother took her to her breast.

Mahara stroked the small, black, feathered wings of the infant and smiled. “I have born my enemy’s child. My reluctant Nimway lover shall curse this day, for I shall teach his child to hate the Nimway and, one day, she shall seek Raven out where he lives in the human world and kill him. I shall name her Jade for my fortune stone.”

“Raven slipped through my fingers once. I thought my spell was strong enough but he broke through it and rejected me for his beloved Merribelle. But I made quick work of her.” Mahara laughed mirthlessly. “But, when he again defied me and took to wife the half human, Lily, he truly earned my revenge. I knew then I would find a way to make him pay.” Her black eyes glazed over with anger. “He thinks he can escape me by becoming human and escaping into another time but I swear to you, Inx, I will find him and destroy everything he loves.”

Mahara looked down at the babe cradled in her arms. “Oh yes, I am feeling much better already. Here in my arms is the very one that will help me make Raven and all of Valmora suffer for opposing me.”

Inx and Mahara laughed raucously as the small infant took nourishment at her mother’s breast. All seemed well for a few moments until little Jade began to fret and cry, then vomited the blood red milk from her mother.

Inx and Mahara grew silent and looked at one another. Inx shook his beastly head. “Best to strike a sword through her heart now and throw her remains on the altar as sacrifice to the Old One and do this quickly. If she doesn’t savor the blood milk, she will come to betray you by and by. It is her father, Raven, that keeps her from your breast. She has his wings. She must have his heart as well.

Mahara turned cold eyes toward Inx and held Jade tightly. “Damn him and damn you, too. She is my revenge, and I will keep her. Lucerne can nourish her with her human milk. Meanwhile, I shall teach her the arts of casting and weaving until she becomes proficient enough to claim the right to be initiated into the Old Clan of charm makers and dark weavers.” Her eyes glazed over with her inner thoughts. A thin smile stretched across her face. Perhaps she would one day even drink the blood of an innocent and earn the right to be taken into the coterie of the Black Blood who delightfully live on the blood of humans and Nimway.

“You will come to regret this day,” Inx said, “but you are my favorite, and I find there is little I can deny you.” He helped Mahara down from her cold tomb with his large, clawed hands. “Come, let us call forth the followers, anoint the babe in sacrificial blood, and ask for a blessing. Perhaps we can maintain the child in our ways.”

Mahara nodded her head in agreement as they left the tomb to call forth the Old Clan and gather the dark forces.

Chapter One

I hate this gloomy, old place, Jade thought as she made her way down the cold stone steps that led deep into the dungeon of her mother’s rotting castle. Cautiously, she felt her way down the ancient stairs that spiraled deep into the dungeon. She placed her left hand on the damp wall to keep her balance. She stepped carefully around the broken stones and loose mortar.

She would have preferred to fly, but the stairwell was too narrow to allow room to spread her wings. The castle had been abandoned years ago by all decent folk. She knew her mother lived here because all respectable society had left.

“We never have any real company here,” she muttered as she dodged a rodent that crossed her path. “Who in their right mind would attempt to cross the Lake of Sorrows to visit this crumbling old ruin?” She took in a deep breath and sighed. “There are no friends or relatives who visit to brighten my days with happy conversation and festivities. The only ones I have to talk to are Aberra and Lucerne. I would never want to confide in those loathsome creatures of the Black Blood or the Old Clan.”

A sudden smile broke across her lips and spread light into her eyes. “Of course there is the Nimway prisoner.” That he was her mother’s enemy only served to make the adventure more enticing. She was eager to see what he looked like. Lucerne said he had golden hair, beautiful yellow wings and a heart of golden light. And there was something about his voice--Lucerne had told her, but she couldn’t quite remember what just then.

Jade reached the bottom of the stair and made her way tentatively down the narrow passage to the prisoner’s cell. She had never ventured this far before. She saw that it was an awful place. It smelled of damp stone, urine and fear.

In the shadows of the cell she could make out the Nimway’s form as he stood facing a small window with iron bars. He was tall with a broad back that tapered to a narrow waist and hips. From his back sprang two large, yellow wings etched in black. They reminded her of the stained glass windows now falling from their frames in the abandoned chapel of the North wing. The light of a nearby torch shone through his hair, and in spite of its unkempt length and its need of washing, it looked like a golden halo in the light of that single flame.

She knew he must have sensed her presence because he started to turn toward her. Her heart was pounding. She could barely breathe.

Suddenly she felt a smart rap on her shoulder. She turned around and gasped when she realized that her mother was standing right behind her. She had been found out. “What do you think you’re doing, Jade?” Mahara asked. Her eyes were dark and filled with suspicion. She didn’t wait for Jade to answer. “Come with me now,” Mahara commanded.

Jade reluctantly followed her mother back up the stairs and rolled her eyes as Mahara chastised her for seeking out that “Prince of Idiots.”

Mahara’s black eyes dug deep into Jade’s thoughts. “I absolutely forbid you to visit that Nimway scum,” she croaked. “I intend to take him apart one piece at a time and send the pieces back to his parents. That ought to teach Varoosh and Acorn that I intend to extract my revenge for their despicable treatment of me,” Mahara declared as they reached the landing.

Jade dropped her eyes to the floor and contemplated her mother’s dull, black shoes and the tips of her bat-like wings. She summoned up her most submissive expression. “Of course not, Mother. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I’ll be expecting you in the chapel for Black Vespers this evening. Perhaps you should spend more time on your studies. You have yet to be initiated into the Old Clan. I grow impatient. But for now, there are other matters to attend to,” Mahara said, apparently satisfied with her daughter’s obedience.

Mahara smiled her narrow smile. “I know that you have Aberra somewhere in the castle. As long as you obey me, I will not search for him. I will let him live his miserable life. But, have a care my child, my patience grows thin with that old Nimway and your disobedience to me.” She turned on her heel to leave then looked back over her shoulder. “Personally, I would like to put that ancient Nimway fool on the altar for sacrifice. He’s of no use to me any more, but”--she shrugged her shoulders--“if he amuses you, I shall not end his worthless life--yet.”