Supernatural Syndicate: A Limited Edition Collection of Magical Mafia Stories

by Thea Atkinson

  Motioning for me to continue, he kept his expression neutral, which I couldn’t decide if it was a good or bad sign. But, I had to spit it out.

  “Okay, so the blood.” As soon as the word “blood” fell from my lips, Emilio’s demeanor changed. Shit. Steeling my nerve, I pushed my shoulders back. “I believe it may be tied to my magic, what makes it tick so to speak? It’s the only logical explanation I can come up with. Like what happened with your vampires: I was only casting a spell on myself, not trying to drain anybody, just take the…” I paused because this was so freaking embarrassing. “…blood curse from myself. I thought somebody was trying to kill me, and before you make fun or laugh at me, it was real. A storm raged, and it was unlike—”

  “Say no more.” He interrupted with a wave of his hand. “But this does not relieve you of your bargain, or shall we say, debt, Harlow. Magic always comes with a price. This is something you should know quite well, and I have relayed the consequences if it is not rectified. Regardless of our earlier encounter.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “If you’d allow me to finish, Boss, I’ll explain my plan.” He was pissing me off, but he did have the upper hand and his sexy ass knew it.

  Emilio smirked with a devilish gleam in his eyes. Of course he did. “This isn’t easy for me, okay? I’ve always known I was different, but now it’s been confirmed. I’m pretty fucking sure I’m a blood witch.” Spearing my fingers through my hair, my heart started racing after saying that aloud. “I have no idea how this happened. I’m a Bishop from the Salem Coven, and as far as I know, there’s never been a blood witch in any of the magical bloodlines. I come from one of the oldest families in the coven. I even wondered if I was adopted on the walk here, but thinking on it now, I remember seeing a picture of my mom pregnant with me, so…” I trailed off, unsure what to think anymore.

  He raked his hand down his face and stared at me, clenching his jaw. “What are you trying to tell me, Harlow? Your five minutes have been up for quite some time.”

  Damn, he was freaking infuriating. “I’m saying that I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go with you, and before you go off losing your temper and biting me again, let me explain. If I take my screw-up before the council, they might help and give me the protection spell to stop a freaking feud between the witches and the vamp mafia, all right? It’d go a lot quicker if I got it from them instead of trying to do it on my own without asking my friends to help. If the council says no, then we’ll do it your way.”

  I’d rethought my plan on the fly after divulging what I believed to be my “witchy ability.” If everything went as planned, I could stop the war before it began. I mean, the coven already hated me, so what was the worst thing that could happen? Maybe I’d even tell them about my magic finally manifesting, only leave out the teensy fact of being a blood witch. Best to keep that under wraps.

  Emilio seemed to study me for a beat, stroking his chin in what I assumed to be contemplation.

  How could he turn me on just standing there? Suddenly, it felt as if an erotic inferno were building inside me and traveling to my core. Squeezing my thighs together to relieve the pressure, I breathed deeply. He noticed. Shit. We could not have a repeat of what happened in the alley. No sooner than the thought entered my head, did the image of his fangs dropping flash into the forefront of my mind. Pulsing vibrations began to thrum against my sensitive bundle of nerves, and I could no longer control the gasps that escaped me. His full, delectable lips were on me in a hot second.

  Blazing heat skated along my skin; his touch burned hot and then cold and then hot again. Emilio deepened the kiss, gently pressing his palm against my throat. I became lost in him, wanting this vampire to take me, dominate me (what the hell?), bring me to orgasm like no man ever had. Bite me. Give me his blood.

  Okay, these thoughts could not possibly be my own. They had to be my freaky-ass magic. Breathlessly, I drew away, panting. “All right, lover boy.” I touched my lips, relishing the taste of him there. “We’ve got to stop.” I scooted over a smidge when I noticed his demeanor had become predatory. “Emilio, you with me?”

  Nodding, his dark gaze roamed my body. “Yes. We will continue this later. I promise you that, little witch.”

  I shuddered with unbridled desire at his words. “Deal.” My chest was heaving, and my nipples had hardened, pressing against the fabric of my bra. The friction alone drove me insane. Breathe, Harlow. “And going before the council—do you agree?”

  Emilio’s nostrils flared. “You have three days and no more. I do not trust them.” His voice had become husky, laden with a sexual craving that mirrored my own. “You will meet me at my club, Crimson Inferno, by seven p.m. Friday.” He rose to his feet, and I could see the outline of his significant hard length pressing against the fly of his tailored pants. “If you’re late. Well, you’d best not be late. You don’t want me to hunt you down, Harlow.”

  He’d only said my name and I almost climaxed. How was that even remotely possible? I had to get him out of here and fast. I’d never been so turned on before, felt such a connection so quickly. He was definitely using some sort of vampire influence, or was it the blood?

  Oh, boy. I was in over my head.

  Standing as well, I tried to keep my distance. “Friday at seven. Got it. If I get something before then, I’ll call you.” I gave him a playful grin to lighten the mood a bit. “Do vampires use cell phones?”

  Emilio returned with a blank stare. “Yes, we do. We may be older, but we have kept up with the latest technology.” He pulled his cell from his suit jacket pocket. “Your number? I’ll call it, and then you’ll have mine. Easy enough. I’ll text you the address to my club.”

  I rattled it off, and after he’d programmed the number, my phone rang inside my purse. “Got it. Thanks. I’ll be in touch, Emilio.” Not a moment later, my cell dinged with a text.

  His eyes darkened. “Until we meet again, little witch.” He grasped my hand and kissed my knuckles, lingering longer than was necessary. With only the press of his lips, my body ignited once more, and I couldn’t be sure how long I could take this torture before I spontaneously combusted.

  Closing my eyes, I sucked in a long and controlled breath. When I opened them, I immediately missed the warmth of his touch, then I heard the door snick closed.

  Holy shit snacks, I was a goner.

  9

  Emilio

  Back at the club, I ordered the main members of my family to meet in the basement where we conducted all our business. All essential information would then be passed down from my main guys to each district once we’d concluded. Crimson Inferno didn’t open until later in the evening, so we had plenty of time to discuss what’d happened to them, with Harlow, the deal, and everything else on the agenda.

  Nicky was still pissed, but he’d get over it. We’d talk later if it came to that. Tony was as he’d always been—loyal and laid back, never questioning. My top-two guys had their own strengths. Nicky was a hothead, sure, but he was also the brawn. Tony, though quiet, strategized at all times, assessing each situation as it came—he was the brains of the operation when needed.

  “Boss.” Nicky poked his bald head around the door of the conference room. “It’ll be ’bout ten to fifteen minutes. Some of the guys ain’t here yet.”

  “Very well.” I nodded, signaling his dismissal, and he shut the door behind him, leaving me to go over everything I wanted to say.

  Waiting for everybody to arrive, I sat back in my chair and thought about the events of the day. What a fucking shitshow. Well, not all of it—but I couldn’t stop the images of Harlow’s face dripping with blood from entering my mind, playing on repeat—like fucking porn, only better. Adjusting in my seat, her scent rolled over me in a wave. Her blood. The connection. I could’ve taken her in the alley, and, she’d have let me. She’d felt that all-consuming hunger, too, that much was certain.

  How could this have happened? That fierce sense of protection that’d come over me the
second Nicky mentioned harming her, I’d seen red. Felt unchecked rage like none other, and he was my family, my consigliere, my right hand. Yet, I’d been murderous, and if he’d taken one step farther, I’d have attacked without a passing thought. If I were being honest, if anybody dared harm her, I’d fucking rip their throat out.

  What the hell had come over me? Harlow’s magic? The blood connection, a bond? It was true, members of my line had found mates in past generations, but it’d been decades and only a handful that I was aware of. Nothing to suggest it happened to every vampire, magical or otherwise, in my bloodline.

  Perhaps it was the mixed magical and vampiric line? Could Harlow be my mate? Fuck. I raked my hand down my face as the word “mate” entered my internal musings. No. Hell, no… But, all the signs were there, yet I hadn’t ever considered the possibility in my three-hundred-plus years.

  Instant attraction, her magic, her deliciously delectable and addictive blood—it’d called to me before I’d even tasted her. Harlow’s fucking scent that’d lured me in, made me want to seduce her rather than kill her. Honestly, I couldn’t be sure, only time would tell. It wasn’t as though I’d had experience with this shit, but the magnetically charged pull toward her, that was something to think about. Just not at present.

  Out of nowhere, I recalled an old memory of centuries past, and my mind whirled. I could hear a few stragglers coming in, but my head was elsewhere: the murder of my parents, and something Harlow had said. Bishop. Not only had the Bishops murdered my family, but they’d also stolen a long-held prophecy of a blood witch regarding their line. At one time, the Bishops and Conte’s had formed an alliance outside of the Salem witches, because a mixed magical line had been frowned upon. They’d turned on my family, or perhaps had been using them all along—nobody truly knew, but after they’d murdered my parents, the prophecy we’d long protected for their family had gone missing.

  Unable to recall all the details, I did remember something about a blood witch who’d one day be borne into the Bishop line, one who’d reign supreme over all others in the Salem Coven. Her power would become so great, she’d have the ability to wield each of the elements through blood magic alone. She’d be unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with.

  Fuck. The prophecy, from what I could remember, described Harlow, only she had no idea. Perhaps her family knew of her powers and it’d been the reason they’d shunned her, basically made her an outcast within her own coven. Why she believed herself to be a witch with no talent. None of which was true, she just hadn’t been taught properly. Harlow, if she were indeed the witch of prophecy as I suspected, she hadn’t needed the elements for her magic to manifest. No, it was blood. And the blood spell she’d cast, unknowingly harming my family, had quickly brought her powers forth. This was why she had no control.

  I knew I had to at least mention the prophecy and what I knew of it, that she, or a blood witch of the Bishop line, would reign over the Salem Coven. But how? And when would be the right time? Certainly not now while she was on a mission to gain a spell of protection for my clan.

  My family began filtering into the room, abruptly breaking me from my thoughts, each taking their prospective seats. Figuring out the mystery that was Harlow would have to wait for now. Nicky sat to my right and Tony to my left.

  Once everybody had settled, I pushed up from my chair, commanded their attention, and addressed the room.

  “As many of you are aware, a spell was cast, a blood spell of sorts, and I’ve been in contact with the witch.” All eyes were on me now, and I swiveled my gaze to meet each of their hardened stares. “Yes, it was an inexperienced witch, not Victor Barone as I’d initially suspected.” Shouts of protest rang out, and I lifted my hand to silence them.

  “Now is not the time. Victor, while he’s still on our radar, will be dealt with and swiftly, but we have more pressing matters to discuss. The witch, Harlow, is seeking a spell to ward our family, a protection spell from outside attacks—of the magical variety. This was our deal. If it’s not done in three days’ time, then we go to war with the Salem Coven.”

  “Fuck them witches,” Vinny, my lead soldier shouted from across the room. “The bitch almost killed us. Why wait? We don’t need their fuckin’ protection. We can protect ourselves.” Heads nodded, grumbles of agreement sounded, and I lost my shit.

  “Are you questioning my fucking orders?” I pounded my fist against the table, my fangs descending. “If I recall, I don’t answer to any of you, but as your leader, I’ll inform you the ‘single’ witch who cast the spell had no idea what she was doing, or that it’d affected a family of vampires.” My tone grew louder. “Who’s to say a more formidable witch wouldn’t do it knowingly? Hence the protection spell.” I straightened my posture and narrowed my eyes. “She will fix this, and no harm will come to her. Do I make myself clear?” I paused, a low growl rumbling from my chest. “I can’t fucking hear you! It’s my job to protect this family, and that’s what I’m gonna do. Don’t like it? There’s the fuckin’ door.”

  Murmurs of acknowledgement met my ears—nobody moved.

  “Good.” My nostrils flared as I sat down and retracted my fangs. I was fucking pissed. They’d never questioned me before, and I wouldn’t allow it now. To be shunned from the family meant imminent death, and they knew it—they’d have zero protection.

  “She’ll probably be here in a matter of days,” I continued, “so I suggest you be on your best behavior. Next order of business.” Placing my elbows on the table, I steepled my hands and rested my chin on my fingertips. “As to the matter of Victor Barone: Tony’s got eyes and ears on his whereabouts at all times. Once the dust settles with the witches, we attack. We’ll take every last one of them fuckers down.”

  “Got it, Boss,” Vinny said, no longer shouting his dissent. I’d not have that shit in my ranks, and he knew better. We’d be having a sit-down later, one he wouldn’t fuckin’ like. “What about the raid on our hotel? The money they stole? We gonna get it back?”

  “Nicky and Tony are already working on it,” I said. “We’ve got a plan, and as soon as the time’s right, I’ll let everybody know. They won’t know what hit them. We’re taking back what was stolen, and our damn territory, too. They’ve been out of control too long. It’s time we settled this shit once and for all.” I could feel my anger surging as it filtered through my speech. The bastard had been a thorn in our side, testing us, but it’d be coming to an end soon. It’d be a bloodbath—those vampires didn’t stand a chance against us.

  “All right, that’s all I’ve got for now. I’ll let you know as things turn up. Be on guard at all times.” I scanned the room for my soldiers. “I need each of you running patrols around the bar and switching up between our hotels at sunset. Watch for anything out of the ordinary and report back to Nicky or Tony.”

  A chorus of “Got it, Boss” sounded throughout the room.

  “You’re dismissed to go on about your day. Oh, and one more thing: Anybody who doesn’t belong in the club, make sure they don’t come back.” And that was my final order, ending the meeting.

  Leaning back in my chair, my mind reeled. So much shit to do, too many enemies, but I knew we could handle it. We always had. Harlow, though, she was another matter altogether. I’d have to wait for the council’s decision. I wouldn’t be banking on their assistance, but I’d given Harlow my word. And that counted for something in my book. A man’s word was everything. But if the council refused? Fuck the whole coven.

  The more I thought about it, the more my gut told me Harlow was the witch of prophecy—she had to be. They’d been lying to her—her own fucking family and the coven—holding back the secret of her true identity her entire life, only to maintain their meager powers.

  Well, that would change if I had anything to do with it.

  And I would.

  If they fucked with Harlow?

  Let the games of war begin.

  10

  Harlow

  “Where the hell
are you?” Jemma shrieked, and I had to pull my cell away from my ear. “We’ve been waiting at the café for over an hour. You didn’t even call. Nothing. We thought something happened to you.”

  If she only knew.

  After changing into jeans and a green V-neck T-shirt, I grabbed my purse and headed out the door, locking it behind me. “Are you done yelling at me now? I’m on my way. I had a little…um, hiccup. I’ll explain when I get there, okay?”

  “Fine,” Jemma huffed. “But it better be good. Me and Frankie have been worried sick. You know how to text, Har. Damn.”

  “Sorry. I had company. I—”

  “Company?” she asked, cutting me off in a singsong voice, her tone changing instantly. “Of the male variety?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll tell you when I get there. Like five minutes, all right?”

  “Is Little Miss Harlot up to her antics again?” I heard Frankie shout into Jemma’s cell.

  “I’m hanging up now.” I snorted and shook my head. “Bye.”

  Yeah, “Harlot” had definitely come out to play today. Damn, did she ever.

  Frankie was still going on when I disconnected. If I told him about Emilio, he’d be on me for explicit details for days… But, I did have to tell him, and Jemma. Sighing, I continued walking the few short blocks until I arrived at our favorite café.

  My goofball besties had grabbed our regular table in the back. As soon as I got through the door, Frankie’s red mop of curls bounded up as he stood from his seat, waving like a lunatic.

  Smiling, I sauntered my ass over to our table, inhaling the delicious scent of fresh-baked desserts, and sat facing the entrance, like I always did. They made fun of me, but it was one of my quirks. I had to be able to see all entrances and exits, and everybody who was coming and going.