Excerpt: Spellthief

There it was. The aching throb and the thrilling hum filling his body like a lightning strike. Delicious rapture tingled through his nerve endings and his body begged for him to absorb the delectable, intangible nectar called magic. Kelore grudgingly obeyed the desire, if only to be free of this wretched place. The assassin slipped his glove off his right hand and took hold of the free-floating golden orb before him. Unadulterated bliss shot down his arm and through his body as his own 'power' drained the Heart of Akle-don of every enchantment, spell, and charm that made it a thing of magic. Kelore could feel the sphere rusting and crumbling beneath his sensitive fingers, but he didn't let go until he felt the last of the magic fade. He dropped to his knees as the ungodly passion rolled away in steady waves, sated, if only for the moment, and then he tossed the now useless lump aside. Kelore gasped and tried to recapture his stolen breath. Absorbing energy like that was the moment every spellthief longed for, except Kelore, because he knew that the next time would be even more unbearably pleasurable and he dreaded the denial his body would go through until he drained something even more powerful. That was a spellthief's curse and none but he knew how painful it could be, would be. Kelore was the last spellthief and he was determined to keep it that way.