Wicked Omens (Cursed Coven Book 5)

by Patricia D. Eddy

  Killian took a deep breath, and his words started to come faster and faster. “I heard him scream. My home was only two kilometers away, but by the time I arrived, the werewolf had bitten off Oliver’s hand and cracked his skull. He was about to charge him with a silver dagger. My spell...I used my magic to shove Oliver out of his path, but I had no control. He landed on a fence post.” A single sob escaped Killian’s lips, and Maddox tightened his hold on his witch. “I tried to heal him, but I failed. He died in my arms.”

  “It was an accident. A mistake.”

  “How can you say that? You’re an angel.” Killian pushed out of his arms and got to his feet, pacing the room. “How can you be okay with my taking a life? Two, technically, since the werewolf died as well.”

  “My brother is the best man I have ever known,” Maddox said as he twisted the blanket between his fingers. “But he fell under the thrall of one of the worst demons to ever walk the earthen realm or any other. He had no choice in what he did. Yet, he carries the guilt like a mountain on his shoulders. He’s why I came to retrieve the sand in the first place. His crimes...they are so legion, he may never earn his way back to the celestial realm. I tried to bargain with the Angel of Death for his soul.”

  “Bargains have a way of cocking up everything,” Killian murmured.

  Maddox threw back the blankets and caught Killian’s hand to stop his restless movements. “No one is without fault, Killian. Not even angels.”

  Acutely aware the two of them were only inches apart and completely naked, Maddox appreciated Killian’s lithe, toned body. His abs flexed as he tried to take a step back, but Maddox wouldn’t let him.

  “I want you. I want to taste you. To feel you inside me. Because you’re fit,” Maddox said, using Killian’s word. “But also because you have a good heart, a quick mind. You saved my life, knowing nothing about what I’d done, and you did not betray me even when you were being tortured. That is a good man.”

  Silence stretched between them, and Maddox reached out with his gifts to sense Killian’s emotions.

  Shame. But also desire. He was about to reach for his witch when Killian dropped to his knees.

  “Killian,” Maddox said, “what are you…?”

  And then Killian’s lips were around Maddox’s cock, and the heat of his mouth, the way his tongue stroked along his shaft made his entire body come alive. Bracing a hand on the wall, Maddox struggled not to groan, but when Killian hummed just as he took Maddox deeper, he lost the battle. He’d never felt like this before. The way his entire body was one tight string, the heaviness in his balls, and how his soul intertwined with Killian’s as the witch held his gaze.

  “Killian…I can’t...hold on—” Maddox threaded his fingers through Killian’s hair, angling his head just slightly. The movement let Killian hollow out his cheeks and suck hard, and Maddox’s entire body bucked, the pleasure shooting all the way down to his toes.

  The witch—his witch—swallowed his seed, and the brand across Killian’s chest started to glow. His dick pulsed again and again until he had nothing left to give, and Killian carefully drew his lips over Maddox’s crown, then sank down onto his ass.

  “Maddox, I…”

  “Shh, baby.” Maddox sank down next to him and took Killian into his arms, and when they kissed, Killian’s taste—the taste of Mad’s own release mixing with the deliciousness that was Killian—ratcheted his arousal. “I want more. I want all of you.”

  Killian

  His angel held his gaze as Killian pulled him up onto the bed. “I don’t know what to do,” Mad said. “I’ve never...”

  “Just trust me.” Guiding him back onto the pillows, Killian covered Maddox’s body with his, the heat between them in such stark contrast to the air conditioning blowing through the room.

  With gentle caresses and desperate kisses, Killian explored Maddox’s body. Muscles that looked to be sculpted by the Divine. Dusky skin, full lips, a six-pack with a sprinkling of hair below leading to a thick, hard cock with a drop of pre-cum glistening on the tip.

  “Ready for another go, angel?”

  He didn’t give Maddox the chance to speak. Instead, he brushed his thumb over Maddox’s lips and hoped he’d take the bait. When the man’s tongue darted out, Killian groaned. “Fuck me.”

  “No. Fuck me,” Maddox said around Killian’s thumb.

  In the years since he’d lost Oliver, Killian had only dated three times. Two humans and one witch, a man named Dex. But though he’d slaked his need—and that of his lovers—he’d never felt anything like he felt for Maddox.

  Killian tried to hold back, but his dick throbbed, and he didn’t think he’d last much longer. Leaning over to grab his billfold, he rifled through the contents until he found the packet of lube and condom he’d found in his toiletry kit at the Monarch Hotel.

  “Trust me, Mad.” Squirting a small amount of lube into his hand, he fisted his cock with Maddox watching him, eyes wide. “If this is too much, any of it, just tell me.”

  After Maddox nodded, Killian lifted his lover’s legs, wrapping them around his waist and notching his dick between the hard globes of Mad’s arse. With his hand braced on the headboard, he started to move his hips, savoring how the angel’s glutes tensed as he slid between Maddox’s cheeks and over his hole.

  Claiming his lips, Killian thrust his tongue along Mad’s, determined to show the man exactly how much he wanted him.

  “Please, Killian,” Mad whispered. “I feel so...empty.”

  “Oh, that won’t be a problem for long.” Pulling back slightly, Killian reached down and ghosted his finger around Mad’s tight hole, and the angel whimpered. “Like that, do you?”

  Another nod, and Killian added a little pressure. “Relax, angel. Let me in.”

  Working his index finger slowly, he pushed past the ring of muscle, swallowing Mad’s moan as he kissed those full lips again and again. Shite. Even finger-fucking the man was the hottest thing he’d ever done, and by the time he added a second finger, then, eventually, a third, Maddox was panting and begging with every breath.

  If he trusted his magic more, he’d have used it to don the condom and avoid losing even a second of their close contact, but this time...their first...had to be perfect, and he wouldn’t risk it.

  His crown nudged Maddox’s newly stretched hole, and he held Mad’s gaze. “You are perfect, angel. Your body, your mind, your heart...” With another kiss, Killian pushed in, slowly, waiting for Maddox’s body to accept him.

  Gasps, followed by a strangled sob accompanied his dick sliding past the tight ring, and then the most delicious pressure he’d ever felt surrounded him.

  “Okay, baby?” Killian asked, keeping his hips perfectly still.

  “Uh huh.” Mad’s fingers dug into his arse, sending him balls-deep in a single motion. “Make...me...yours, Killian.”

  “Mine,” Killian growled as he pulled back and then surged forward. They found their rhythm, Killian balancing on one elbow, Mad’s legs wrapped around him. With his free hand, he grabbed Maddox’s dick and started working up and down the shaft, and the angel cried out.

  “Come with me, baby,” Killian whispered as he scored his teeth over the angel’s ear and thrust as deeply as he could. He couldn’t hold on any longer, and when they fell over the edge, they did it together.

  Chapter Eleven

  Maddox

  Still hazy from the intensity of coupling with his witch, Maddox barely noticed the knock at the door, or Killian accepting the sandwiches from Frank and coming back to bed.

  “Are you all right?” Killian asked as he shed his robe once more and brushed his lips against Maddox’s jaw.

  “I’m...wonderful.”

  The celestial token on the nightstand glowed, the light almost pulsing, and Maddox stretched over Killian. As soon as he closed his fingers over the relic, he was ripped away from the witch and found himself standing naked in front of Azrael.

  The archangel crossed his arms over his
massive chest. His gaze roved up and down Mad’s body.

  “Maddox. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Oh, shit.

  Azrael frowned. “That sort of language is not appreciated here.”

  Despite the archangel’s warning, the words ran on repeat in Maddox’s head, and he covered his cock with his hands, since he’d been half-hard pressed against his witch. “I am sorry, Azrael. There was a curse…”

  “You’ve failed, Maddox. In every way. Losing the celestial sand, choosing to stay on earth past the time you were allotted, and…that.” Azrael nodded to Maddox’s cupped hands. “You are an angel of the celestial realm. We do not have sex with those who are of the earth.”

  “I’m half-human. So, clearly, we do,” Maddox retorted. “My mother—”

  “Your mother was banished for her actions, fell in love with a demon, and died for it.”

  Maddox took a step back as his eyes started to burn. He’d never known his mother or his father, only Sinclair. After his mother had died, the archangel Michael had brought Sin to the celestial realm, and the two brothers had been inseparable until Sin decided to try to find his father and had, instead, met La Fiura. “Send me back, Azrael.”

  “Why? So you can further these…human endeavors? The sand is gone. There is no reason for you to go back to earth.” The archangel turned, but Maddox lunged for his arm. Azrael arched a brow and glared at Mad’s fingers wrapped around his robes. “Choose your next words very carefully, Maddox.”

  Azrael’s anger was a physical presence, almost as imposing as the archangel himself. Maddox scrambled for a legitimate reason to return to earth, stammering until Azrael yanked his arm free. Then it hit him.

  “The witches believe Killian took the sand. They’ll kill him for it. I have to fix this, Azrael. Otherwise, my soul will forever bear the stain of his death. Please. Let me return to the earthen realm to fix this.”

  Azrael frowned. “I cannot argue with your desire to make things right. However, if you do not return to the celestial realm in two earth days, the doorway will close, and you will live the rest of your life—however long that may be—on earth. You will keep your wings, and you will age slowly. But your body will eventually become mortal. Do not make this decision lightly, Maddox. If you stay on earth, you will die. And then…your soul will make the same trip as all the others. Whether you wish it to or not.”

  Killian

  Four hours. He’d paced and prayed for four hours, waiting for Maddox to return and hoping the whole time he wasn’t gone for good. But he knew. Deep down, he knew Maddox had returned to the celestial realm without even saying goodbye.

  The sheets still smelled like Maddox, like their coupling, and more than once, Killian found himself crushing the pillow to his chest. He’d been a bloody fool. Giving his heart to the angel, knowing Maddox would have to return to his own realm... But he’d thought, maybe...after what they’d shared, Mad would at least stick around for a day or two. Long enough for them to fuck one another in every manner possible.

  Checking the time, Killian groaned. Almost five in the evening. If he were going to ring Beatrix, he needed to do it now.

  “It’s about bloody time,” she said when the call connected. “Some no-good git curses the lot of you at the ball and you wait almost a full day to call me? I thought you were smarter than that, Killian.”

  “In the past twenty hours, I’ve been cursed—which, by the way, destroyed my dampening cuff—rescued an angel after he stole celestial sand from the crypt under Magnolia House, been summoned, questioned, and locked in the coven’s dungeon, hit by a spell the likes of which I’d prefer never to feel again, and have been branded with a pair of wings. Pardon me if I haven’t been the most communicative bloke on the planet.”

  Magic sparked from his fingertips, and he groaned. “I need help, High Priestess. I can’t control my magic without the cuff, and I feel like I’m about to come out of my skin.”

  Beatrix’s voice gentled. “You won’t, Killian Wade, because you know what happens when you lose control. But you are also too smart for your own good, I think.”

  “What are you on about?” Killian sank back down onto the bed and ran a hand through his hair. Fuck. He missed Maddox. Missed the angel’s calming presence, his touch. His voice.

  “You were born under a Blood Moon. That, combined with the specific circumstances of your birth mean your magic is the strongest of this age. But you were always frightened of it.”

  “And why should I not be? I killed a vampire, High Priestess. Oliver should have been much stronger than I could ever be. And one spell took his life.”

  “Magic does not exist in a vacuum, Killian. It depends on our emotions, our very life force, to exist and do its work. The man you thought you loved was about to die, and you tried to protect him. Had you done nothing, he would have died anyway.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that his last sight in this world was me, casting the spell that ended him.”

  Beatrix sighed. “No. It does not. But you are older and wiser now, witch. Ten years have passed, and you understand what you did wrong. We have been over this time and time again. If you tried the same spell today, it would not have the same effects.”

  “Bollocks. If I never cast a spell again, it will be too soon. I’ve had to use my magic twice since I got here, and each time…could have killed so many.” Unable to sit still any longer, Killian dropped to his knees by the mini-bar and pulled out two tiny bottles of scotch.

  Downing one after the other in a single swallow, he let the burn settle down his throat. His fingers traced the lines of the brand, and a powerful ache started deep in his core. “What do I do about this fecking curse?”

  “Do you remember the words?”

  “I won’t repeat it all, but the punchline was this: I damn you to your darkest fear. I bind you to dread’s cold embrace. Until your truth you boldly face,” Killian said.

  Beatrix huffed out a wry laugh. “Fitting, I suppose. You must face your darkest fear. Overcome it. I am assuming you do not need me to tell you what that is.”

  Killian groaned. “I have to confront Jezebel. Use my magic. Willingly. And risk another’s death.”

  “Yes. I cannot help you with this, Killian. It is something you must do alone. I do hope you will not destroy all of New Orleans while you are at it.”

  As do I, Killian thought as he ended the call. He was on his own.

  Maddox

  Azrael returned him to the precise location he’d left from. The bed he’d shared with Killian. Except, it was empty.

  Fuck. He’d been gone eight hours. Maddox knew time in the celestial realm went slower than that on earth. But he hadn’t expected a ten-minute conversation to take eight earth hours. What had Killian thought? That he’d left? For good?

  The clothing bags had been rifled through, and a sandwich wrapper lingered in the trash can. On the bedside table, Maddox found a note.

  Maddox, I know what I have to do. Facing Jezebel is the only way to break my curse. Don’t try to find me. If I live through the next few hours, I’ll return. If not, I doubt I will ever see the celestial realm. Not after what I’ve done. The short time we had here, in this room...I will hold onto those memories. I wish we’d had more time. -Killian

  “Shit, shit, shit.” Maddox got dressed as quickly as he could, then ran downstairs, hoping to find Frank. The older gentleman sat at the front desk with a crossword puzzle in front of him.

  “So there y’are,” Frank said, a hint of judgement in his scratchy voice. “That man of yours brought down the sammich I got for you and said he wasn’t sure if you were coming back. The two of you have a fight or something?”

  “No.” Maddox rubbed the back of his neck. “I...needed some air and got lost. I don’t know this city. Did Killian say where he was going?”

  “Nope. Just thanked me for dropping off the clothes and the sammich, said you wouldn’t be needing this one, and that he hoped I had a good
day.” Frank set his pen down and leaned forward. “You going after him?”

  “Yes. But I don’t know where he went. I need to get to Bourbon Street. Can you point me in the right direction?”

  “You’ll need to get a cab, son.” Frank reached for the telephone, but Maddox laid a hand on his wrist.

  “I don’t. Just...point me in the right direction.” There was no way Maddox was going to wait for a cab. Not when he could fly across the city in minutes. Assuming Azrael hadn’t taken away all of his powers.

  Frank shrugged. “Out the door, head left. Bourbon Street is due east of here.” He pointed behind him. “That way.”

  “Thank you, Frank. We’ll be back.” Maddox pushed through the door, keeping his voice low. “I hope.”

  Ten minutes later, he landed gently in an alley two blocks from Bourbon Street. He had to find the House of Voodoo and Sin’s friend Mist. If he were going to help Killian, he needed backup.

  The House of Voodoo, despite the name, was bright inside. Every single inch of free space on the walls was taken up by oddities. Everything from actual chicken bones to rubber masks of pig heads with long horns. Dozens of tourists whispered and pointed as they wove through the shop, and the man behind the counter explained the use of a small, strange-looking broom in cleansing rituals.

  The sun had set less than half an hour ago. Would this Mist be here yet? Making his way to the back of the shop, Maddox pushed through a black, beaded curtain.

  “Are you here for a reading?” The woman sounded young. No more than twenty-five, and as Maddox’s eyes adjusted to the dim light, he took in her pale skin, the stillness to her limbs, and her amber eyes.

  “That depends. Would you know where I can find Mist?” Keeping his gaze locked on the petite vampire, he reached out with his unique gifts so no one else coming in the room would see what he was about to do.