Christina Bauer [Bauer - Concealed Special Edition

Dedication

For All Those Who Kick Ass, Take Names

And Read Books

Authors Note

Dear Readers,

Here are some thingy-things to know about this special edition:

1. Why I did this

Short answer: Im changing distributors.

Long answer: Because of that switch, my first six books need new back-end tracking numbers. In other words, I must deactivate the original CONCEALED (as well as some other books) and then republish it.

As in, the exact same book.

So there will be two versions floating around.

Again, of the exact same book.

Which will be hella confusing.

Now for some context. My day job used to be in software, and we have a saying: its not a bug, its a feature. So, I figured that if I must have two versions, one of them might as well include new content.

The special edition series was born.

2. Whats in this special edition

An all-new appendix of goodies! Youll find out tons of behind the scenes stuff.

3. More special editions ahoy

As I mentioned above, my first seven books need new product numbers, so theyre also getting extra content. Heres an overview of all seven new special editions (SE):

- ANGELBOUND SE, Angelbound Origins Book 1

- SCALA SE, Angelbound Origins Book 2

- MAXON SE, Angelbound Offspring Book 1

- PORTIA SE, Angelbound Offspring Book 2

- CURSED SE, Beholder Book 1

- CONCEALED SE, Beholder Book 2

So there you have it: why I wrote this special edition and some other semi-random stuff. Hope you enjoy this extended version of CONCEALED!

Thanks for reading and being you,

Christina

1

W ith a sigh, I rode deeper into the old forest. Here was a scene fit for a fairy tale. My elegant horse. Woods in the summertime. And me, a girl with pale skin, dark hair, and a flowing white gown: the innocent young maiden.

What a lie.

In truth, I was one of the realms most deadly Necromancers. Mages like me wielded powerful magick over spirit and bone. Most people were terrified of us and for good reason. Necromancers were known for summoning ghosts and reanimating the dead. Not that I dabbled in that kind of thing personally. Ghosts whined for ages before doing even the smallest task. And decaying bodies? When reanimated, they became just as petulant as any ghost, only they smelled something awful. Not worth the effort of casting, in my opinion. There were other spells that I preferred.

My horse let out a high-pitched whinny. My poor Smoke. She so wanted to gallop. As did I, for that matter. But my plan called for me to ride slowly while looking innocent. The reason? I sought out sensitive information from the brigands who hid in these woods. Of course, I could just lure them to me with a spell. However, that meant projecting magick over long distances. Not too clever. That kind of casting could easily be detected by my enemies and used to track me down. I needed to be careful.

No, the scum of the forest had to approach me of their own free will. And that could only happen if I looked harmless.

Please, let me look harmless.

A weight of worry settled on my shoulders. I needed information and badly. My Sister mages from the Midnight Cloister were still missing. The desire to find them constricted my heart, tight as a vise.

As did my need for Rowan, if I allowed myself to think about him.

Suddenly, the tree branches rustled with extra force. I tilted my head, every sense in my body going on alert. Was someone finally approaching?

Seconds passed. No one appeared. I tried to hide my disappointment and kept riding along at an inching pace. Clip-clop. Clip-clop. The monotony made me wish to pull my hair out.

Images flickered through my mind. I pictured the Necromancer girls that Id met in the Midnight Cloister. My Sisters. Theyd all looked so wide-eyed and innocent as the evil Vicomte led them off to his secret prison. And these were no ordinary dungeons either. The Vicomte had a mysterious device that siphoned off Necromancer power. I shivered at the thought. My Sisters would writhe in agony as their magick was removed. And once their powers were fully drained, my young friends would transform into withered husks of skin. Dead. The thought made my stomach churn.

Sadly, the treachery against my people didnt end with my Sisters. Over the past five years, thousands of Necromancers had been imprisoned and marked for death. It was the Tsar who began all the abductions. Three months ago, I put that villain into exile, trapping him on a random magickal plane. Afterward, I assumed that our worries were over. How foolish of me. The moment the Tsar was gone, one of his main followers, the Vicomte, took up the heinous plans against my people.

Since then, things have only become worse.

The Vicomte has expanded the Tsars program of abduction and murder, killing far more Necromancers than the Tsar ever did. No one has found any bodies, though.

By the Sire, please let that mean some of my people are still alive.

I could only hope that when I found my lost Sisters, I would discover some trained Necromancers along with them. So few of us remained. My Cloister, the Zelle, was the last of its kind, and it now held less than a dozen expert Necromancers. All were over ninety and could no longer cast any serious spells.

Footsteps rustled in a nearby thicket. Someones close. My heart thrummed in my rib cage. Only certain travelers stole through the shrubbery.

Thieves. How perfect.

A hulking brute of a man lurched out from the trees and grasped my horses reins with his meaty fist. Any other lady would have screamed. I could have cheered for joy.

Afternoon, my lovely. Im Bartley. His voice had the deep rasp of someone who enjoyed far too much whiskey. Like the other thieves Id met, Bartley wore a mishmash of whatever clothing hed claimed from his latest kills. In this case, Bartley donned a gentlemans longcoat over ragged pants and a patched-up shirt. He rubbed his thick hand over his bald head, a movement that showed off his small black eyes.