Wicked After Midnight (Blud)

by Delilah S. Dawson

  Praise for the second novel in Delilah S. Dawson’s scrumptious Blud series

  WICKED AS SHE WANTS

  Winner of the RT Book Reviews Seal of Excellence

  “No sophomore series slump here. . . . Delightfully edgy with hidden charms. . . . Dawson is on the fast track to the top of the genre!”

  —RT Book Reviews (Top Pick!)

  “Fantastic writing through and through. . . . You’ll find any excuse not to put the book down.”

  —Paranormal Haven

  “Dawson has created one of the most original and refreshing worlds in a time when I thought it had all been done before. . . . If you are not reading the Blud series, you are missing out!”

  —Under the Covers Book Blog

  “Amazingly creative and original.”

  —Bitten by Paranormal Romance

  “This book has it all . . . vampires, romance, murder, revenge, steampunk, and a special secret. . . . Amazing.”

  —Dark Faerie Tales

  “A most interesting world filled with fantastical creatures. . . . Dawson is a gifted storyteller.”

  —Fiction Vixen

  “Ahna and Casper are full of passion, which makes for a red-hot romance that adds to the brilliant storytelling. . . . A supernatural adventure that’s hard to put down.”

  —Romancing the Dark Side

  WICKED AS THEY COME

  “As good as it gets!”

  —New York Times bestselling author Nancy Holder

  “A wonderfully fresh new voice splashes onto the scene. . . . In Criminy Stain, Dawson has created a delightful rogue with a dangerously sexy edge. Join the adventure; you won’t be sorry you did!”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Mesmerizing . . . holds the reader spellbound from its opening line until its last. . . . This reviewer recommends you make a trip to the fascinating Sang immediately.”

  —Bitten by Books

  “I can’t recommend this book enough. It’s like every genre I love so perfectly blended together. If you want to fall in love with two great characters plus an entire new world, this is your book.”

  —Badass Book Reviews

  “A wonderful start to a new series that had me dying to find out more. It is a dark macabre tale that Tim Burton would only wish to dream of. . . . Many a midnight hour was burnt with me not wanting to put it down.”

  —Book Chick City

  “A complex and interesting book. . . . If you are looking for something new, different, and fresh I would encourage you to try this book.”

  —Fiction Vixen

  “Dawson has a wonderful voice that hooks you with humorous sharp dialogue, smooth pacing, and descriptive details. An enchanting mixture of steampunk, fantasy, and paranormal romance.”

  —Smexy Books

  “I was completely engrossed from beginning to end and could not walk away from this book for a moment. It is utterly enchanting.”

  —A Bookworm’s Haven

  “The novel flips from the familiar to the fantastical effortlessly. . . . It could have followed down the rabbit hole of previous vampire or Steampunk tales, but it takes the high road, with humor and insights into life.”

  —Heroes and Heartbreakers

  Thank you for downloading this Pocket Books eBook.

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  For my flower twin, for the Red Door, for Team Capybara, for the Bludbunny Brigade, for the YELLING ON TWITTER IN ALL CAPS. For the readers and writers and trollers of darkness. YOU GUYS ARE THE WIND BENEATH MY WINGS AND WHATEVS. Thanks for making the world less lonely.

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  About Delilah S. Dawson

  Acknowledgments

  Oh, I owe a lot of cupcakes this time around. Big thanks, hugs, and baked goods to so many.

  With so many people to thank, I know I’ll forget someone important. But rest assured that the love and gratitude are there. As this is the last book (that I know of!) in the Blud series, the thanks list got a little out of hand. NO REGRETS.

  First of all, many thanks to everyone who helped with the Wicked as She Wants launch party, especially Seth and Leah at the Red Door Playhouse in Roswell, Georgia. To my amazing friends in the Red Door Writers Group, who put up with my not-so-subtle manipulation of writing prompts into scenes for this very book. To the Fabulous Foxes of FoxTale Book Shoppe in Woodstock, GA, for joining us at the book launch party and selling a ton of books—and for making sure that there’s a way to order signed and personalized copies of all things Blud. To Ericka Axelsson for coming up with the book launch party’s signature drink, the Tsarina’s Kiss—it’s Prosecco and lingonberry syrup from Ikea, in case you want to try it, and it looks just like blood mixed with champagne but tastes a lot better. To Andrea for taking pics at the party and Elizabeth for helping with setup and Jim for bringing the unicorn head and Meghan for playing the role of the Goblin King. To Cakes by Darcy for another delicious masterpiece—red velvet with almond buttercream, of course. Thanks to everyone who joined us to party!

  To my amazing husband, Craig, who has been my favorite person since the year 2000. To my magical children, Cleo and Rex, who make every day brighter and weirder. To my parents and grandparents, who always support me. I’ll dedicate a book to y’all, some day—but not a vampire romance.

  For music and the playlists that keep me editing, thanks to Chris Casatelli, Thomas Strickland, Ken Lowery, Karina Cooper, Becky Zemansky, and Adam Christopher. You can hear the playlist for this book at Spotify under DelilahSDawson.

  To the generous beta readers who helped steer me in the right direction for “The Three Lives of Lydia,” “Love Song of the Lizard Boy,” and “The Damsel and the Daggerman,” thanks to Stephanie at Fangs, Wands, and Fairy Dust; Brent Taylor, Austin Lewis, Stephanie Constantin, Ericka Axelsson, Debbie Pascoe, Beth Ho, Allie Charlesworth, Lindze Merritt, Charis Collins, Kathy Epling, Kevin Hearne, and Andrew Schaffer.

  For using mad graphic skillz to whip up emergency swag faster than a speeding bullet, Jon Plsek.

  To my beloved agent, Kate McKean, who always steers me true and without whom this entire series wouldn’t exist. Because when we were on The Call, she asked me what I was working on next, and when I said something along the lines of “a Buffy-inspired steampunk adventure with kind-of vampires and clockwork monkeys and then there’s a Kraken and lots of kissing,” she just went with it.

  To my awesome editor at Pocket Books, Abby Zidle, who turns my coal into diamonds and marshmallows and treats me to duck conf
it and takes me to butterfly gardens, even though I almost got us thrown out. And to Parisa Zolfaghari, who not only took care of me through almost this entire series but also took me to STREB Extreme Action in New York so I could finally knock “flying trapeze” off my bucket list. (For real. There’s a video on my blog.) To Wendy and Nancy and all the copyeditors who keep me from looking like an idiot. And to Stephanie, Marla, and everyone else at Pocket Books, too. I’m so glad my first books were with y’all!

  To the awesome Tony Mauro for the best cover yet. It’s perfect! And to James Perales for the gorgeous covers of all my novellas.

  To the Bludbunny Brigade: Maranda Melton, Sara Muller, Rachel Flesher, Beth Ho, Leslee Nevill, Nancy Marsh, Savanna Puterbaugh, Sherry Gladden, Melanie Marsh, Laura Helseth, Christine Forshner, Jennifer Goble, Meghan Ball, James Breen, Austin Sirkin, Wendy Dagley, Nita Gill, Jillian Venters, Lise Donnelly, Sharonda, Kevin Craley, Sasha Conley, Beth Blanchard, Deb Rasmussen, Karen Burns, Brandi Engeman, Jessica Collins, Stephanie Constantin, Carol Malcolm, Jess Richardson, Lisa Millraney, Melissa Gilbert, Penelope Crampton, Janice Pia, Lexie Cenni, Heather Jackson, Gemma Harding, Sullivan McPig, Carien Ubink, Arienne Wallace, Carrie Mirim, Kat Fish, Ellen Sandberg, Lori A. Arcelay, Esperanza Gutierrez, Gloria Barna, Dani Albrecht, Linda Larsson, Anna Nicole Ureta, Kaitlin Sivley, Jessica Stewart, Tonia Rodriguez, Francesca Bensi, Amber Bray, Melissa Gilbert, and PJ McCracken. And unofficial members Mark and Theresa Curtis.

  To everyone who came to the Wicked as She Wants pre-launch party at Madame X in New York City, including Adam Wilson, Janet Reid, Jeffrey Somers, Danielle Duffield, and Cara Moore. And speaking of my epic New York trip, thanks to Sleep No More for being one of the coolest experiences of my life.

  To the cons and conferences who invited me to partake of their awesome, including Coastal Magic, Anachrocon, JordanCon, the Dahlonega Literary Festival, Phoenix Comicon, Authors After Dark, Dragon Con, and Crossroads Writers Conference. And to the booksellers who made my books available there, especially Mysterious Galaxy and Barnes & Noble. Special thanks to Murder by the Book in Houston for putting together such a lovely signing for the Carniepunk anthology. To Cindy Rittenhouse and Rivers Academy for my first chance to speak to high school students about writing. To Brian White for inviting me to be part of Fireside Fiction and Pip Ballentine and Tee Morris for allowing me to play in their sandbox for Tales from the Archives: The Official Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences.

  To my fellow writers, who keep me afloat and commiserate and sometimes let me blather on their blogs and who name whores and strip clubs after me in their books: Kevin Hearne, James R. Tuck, Janice Hardy, Kevin Maurer, Chuck Wendig, Deanna Raybourn, Cherie Priest, John Scalzi, Jim C. Hines, Mary Robinette Kowal, Alethea Kontis, Leanna Renee Hieber, Sam Sykes, Ben LeRoy, Mark Henry, Nicole Peeler, Annabel Joseph, John Hartness, Lucienne Diver, Thomas Willeford. And, you know, everybody on Twitter.

  To Brooke Stante of Villainess Soaps for capturing the characters of the Blud books so perfectly in scent and soap. Visit www.villainess.net/wicked to fall in love with her creations!

  To the book bloggers and reviewers and everyone who’s ever rated my books on Amazon or Goodreads, merci mille fois!

  Thank you all, so much for joining me on this journey.

  ♥, d.

  1

  Here is a painful truth: the circus is a magical place only so long as you’re allowed to leave when the show is over. My first year in the caravan was a dream. The next three years were purgatorial, and the last two were a nightmare, the kind where you endlessly grind your teeth to dust. And that’s why the ringmaster now loomed over me, lips drawn back over his fangs in a hiss so long and soft that it had become a silent sigh that smelled of blood and wine. He was beautiful, murderous, and maddening, and I was completely in his power. And that really, really pissed me off.

  I glared at the man who had killed me and saved me all in one fell swoop. In another life, he might have been attractive. Sexy, even. But here, now, he was simply annoying.

  “You’re not my dad, Criminy.”

  “I’m the closest thing you’ve got, love. And more important, I’m your employer.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Then I quit.”

  Criminy threw his head back and laughed. My eyes shot to Tish, but she was wearing a Mona Lisa smile.

  “This isn’t our world, Demi,” she said gently. “This isn’t Earth. You can’t just walk out the door and find an apartment and a job online. As much as I believe in being an independent woman, Sang simply isn’t set up that way. As a female and a Bludman, you have almost no rights here. And, for the record, if Crim’s your dad, I’m way too young to be your mom.”

  I smirked at that. She was only a few years older than me, even if I still looked like the college coed I’d been before one drink too many put me in the coma that transported me to Sang. When I arrived in this freaky parallel world naked and confused, the only thing that had saved me from death by a warren of murderous bludbunnies was Criminy Stain with his ability to turn humans into nearly invincible blood drinkers, Bludmen like himself. Tish was from Earth, too, and we’d had some heart-to-hearts over the last couple of years, reminiscing about movie stars and music and a world where women who weren’t swaggering airship captains could actually walk around alone safely. But just like a real mom, she would never take my side over Criminy’s.

  “Besides,” Tish added, “have you been to the cities? They’re awful.” She held up a creased newspaper from Criminy’s desk. “I’ve seen Manchester, London, Brighton. You couldn’t pay me to live behind those high, cramped walls. And it’s much worse for Bludmen, to be quite honest.”

  Her voice went bitter as her eyes went far away, and I couldn’t help noticing the crow’s feet that hadn’t been there last year. Tish had told me about the witch’s curse and the enchanted locket that made her age far faster than was fair, the price for her life in Sang. My best friend, Cherie, and I had bets regarding how long she would hold off being bludded so she could stay with Criminy without regrets and wrinkles. Tish had told me her grandmother was in the final stages of her third round of breast cancer and that once the tough old bird had passed on, Tish would most likely join us in the life of a predator. More years, more resilience, more beauty, and all you lost as a Bludman was a taste for food and any real rights once you were inside the city. It was a far cry from the sparkly rich vampire stories I’d salivated over back home.

  For example, I was twenty-six but looked seventeen, and I was currently so hungry that I could smell Tish’s blood on the air, as yummy as baking cookies used to be. I swallowed and looked away.

  When Criminy spoke again, his voice was gentle and kind. “The point, my darling girls, is that this is the best life I can offer you in Sangland. What precisely do you lack?”

  I fluffed my bangs and stared down at my black-scaled hands. So gross, even with the nails painted hot pink. “Parties. Independence. Adventure,” I muttered, not meeting his eyes.

  “I think she means boys,” Tish whispered.

  Criminy snorted and looked offended. “There are boys in the caravan. Plenty of them.”

  “Charlie Dregs is not ‘boys.’ ”

  “You should have snapped up Casper when you had the chance. Or one of the daimon lads.”

  I spun away as if in anger, hoping I’d done it fast enough to hide my blush. I had, in fact, snatched up one of the daimon boys. Luc had been the most mysterious guy I’d met since waking up in Sang, but he was part of the reason I now wanted to leave the caravan. Underneath his suave, bad-boy exterior, he was as sweet and gushy as the filling in a jelly doughnut. The way he was following me around, mooning over me, begging me to be his petite amie—so not sexy. Even the hot Franchian accent didn’t help.

  Tish was wrong about one thing: I didn’t need a boy. I needed a man.

  “Cherie and I have been talking.” I paused, chewing my lip carefully with too-sharp teeth. “We’d like to try London.”

  �
��Over my dead body!”

  I’d heard Criminy could be terrifying, but I’d never believed it, not until that moment. He seemed to rise over me and spread out a vulture’s dark wings, his sharp features going sharper and his hair crackling with lightning that wasn’t there. I shrank down, all my bravado fled.

  Almost.

  “You don’t want to go to London,” Tish started, and Criminy hissed, cutting her off.

  “She’s not going to London. I’ll never allow it.”

  Before he was done talking, I rose from the chair, feeling the sparks in my own dark hair. “You can’t stop me! You don’t own me. I’m not just another freak in your sideshow.”

  He chuckled darkly and leaned back, crossing his arms and going cold. “I can stop you, actually. I made your papers, and I hold them. Without papers, you don’t exist. You can’t get into any cities.”

  “I can forge new papers.”

  “With what money?”

  “I’ll . . . I’ll . . .” I swallowed hard, the anger draining out through my toes and leaving me cold and empty inside.

  He was right, the smug asshat. Without those papers and the years of back pay stored in the safe hidden in his wagon, I wasn’t going anywhere. And Cherie was no better off. For all the freedom he claimed we had, we were trapped in his caravan like canaries with clipped wings—albeit fanged canaries in a very pretty cage.

  I caught the sob, sniffling it back down. “I don’t want to grow old here, Crim. Nothing ever changes. I never change. Let me fly free.”

  “Demi, love . . .”

  I looked up at him, straight into those cloudy gray eyes. When I first saw a mirror after he bludded me, I had been horrified at the dancing shadows in my own sky-blue eyes. They snapped like the fire of a Bunsen burner. But when I cried, the tears were tinged with red. And I didn’t want to cry right now. I’d been good for so long, but the rebellion had been simmering underneath. I hated, just hated, being told what to do, what to be. Maybe I couldn’t get what I wanted by shouting, but I would get it. Or else.