Wicked Magic (7 Wicked Tales Featuring Witches, Demons, Vampires, Fae, and More)

by Deanna Chase

  Kirill pulled one hand inside his cloak, closing long fingers around the hilt of his favorite dagger. The texture of the blade’s grip soothed him, helped him keep hold of his temper in the face of the angel’s blatant disrespect.

  Patricio crossed his arms and faced Kirill down without a sliver of apology in his blue gaze. “Some of us would like to get home at a reasonable hour. Not all of us are nocturnal.”

  “What do you know about the changelingss?” Daman’s pupils narrowed to draconic slits and his fingers twitched, tips sharpening into claws the color and shape of a crescent moon.

  “Thank you for putting our guest at ease, Patricio,” Kirill said tightly. “Done with your usual flair for comfort. Marcella would be so proud.”

  “Leave my wife out of this.” Patricio’s wings rose in the wind of his agitation.

  “Who wouldn’t want to join this family?” Adonis joked. He blew a smoke ring at the ceiling, blue-white tendrils curling outward as it rose. He winked at Daman. “Our winter solstice parties are unrivaled.”

  “Winter solstice…” Daman blinked.

  Not for the first time, Kirill was impressed with Adonis’ ability to put others at ease. His political guile was deplorable, but his genuine likeability was lethal.

  “Daman,” Kirill said, facing the naga. “The angel, in all his ham-fistedness, is correct. We are building a society here from the ground up. I have heard much about you, many stories from grateful changelings who have found happiness with the families you find for them. I have seen for myself how dedicated you are. You are precisely the type of man that could help us build a court to be proud of, respected. In exchange for your guidance, your participation in our endeavors, we would be pleased to let you bring changelings here. Surely there is no place they would be safer than a land accessible only by invitation?”

  He didn’t look around the room at the other princes, silently willing them not to contradict him. After all, for the most part, it was true that this new kingdom could be accessed only by invitation. Though it was possible for the unwary to accidentally stumble through the portal if they passed close enough to the world tree.

  Daman glanced from one man to the other, but Kirill could see his mind working behind his silver eyes. The naga’s first responsibility was to his charges, his changelings. This land was safe for them, open to them.

  “What do you want from me?” Daman asked finally.

  Kirill smiled. “Etienne? Won’t you escort our guest to the map room so he can pick a location for his new home?”

  “I’m not your lapdog,” Etienne snapped.

  The handle of his dagger was soothing, as it always was. For what felt like the hundredth time that night alone, Kirill toyed with the idea of burying the blade somewhere in Etienne’s thigh. Not to kill him, or even lame him—lycanthrope physiology would protect him from any lasting damage—but just to let the beast know that his dismal attitude would have consequences. With a sigh, he pulled his hand from the weapon.

  “Saamal?”

  The god’s lip quirked as he pushed away a smile. “It would be my pleasure.”

  Daman, who had watched the exchange between Kirill and Etienne with a sharp silver-eyed stare that was far too discerning for Kirill’s taste, amiably followed Saamal out. Kirill waited until the door closed behind them and their footsteps faded away down the hall.

  “Etienne, for the love of all gods and demons everywhere, must you always be so disagreeable?”

  The lycanthrope folded his arms, muscles bunching with the movement. “Must you always be so manipulative?”

  “Manipulative? I thought we’d all agreed to invite Daman into our realm? What, pray tell, have I done to deserve such ire from you on this matter?”

  Golden eyes darkened to hard amber. “Do you think I don’t know about the pirate? Tyr, I believe he’s called? Aging pirate with one hand?”

  Kirill paused, careful to keep the tension from his face and shoulders. “What about him?”

  “Do you intend to tell Daman that it was you who arranged for pirates to steal Maribel’s family fortune? That it was your scheming that sent her family from their home at court to the farm where her poor sister suffered so?”

  Damn his eyes. “You’ve been talking with shady characters, my friend. Who would tell such stories?”

  “Wow, that’s a long game even for you,” Adonis piped up.

  Clove-scented smoke wafted past Kirill as the demon spoke, and he waved it away with a sharp flick of his hand. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “How many seers do you have working for you?” Patricio demanded, feathers rustling as he straightened to his full height. “Who is giving you such information that you can arrange events so far ahead of time?”

  Three. Kirill gave Patricio a blank stare. “What seers?”

  “He won’t tell you,” Adonis informed them. “Kirill plays his cards close to his dagger-laden vest.”

  “This is never going to work,” Etienne muttered. “Some high council we are. How could Eurydice ever have thought we could rule a kingdom together?”

  “Oh, don’t be so sour, my wolfish friend,” Adonis insisted, sauntering over to clap a clawed hand on Etienne’s back. “We’re all getting along swimmingly. Just a few growing pains, that’s all.” He took another puff from his cigarette and patted Etienne on the head. “You just need to accept our vampire companion for who he is. Fangs, weapons, seers, and all.”

  “This kingdom is doomed,” Patricio muttered.

  “Oh, take heart, angelic prince,” Kirill soothed. “Wait until you see my next candidate…”

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  The Keepers

  Alchemy Series Book One

  Donna Augustine

  Two days ago, Jo Davids was a waitress by night and a college kid by day, with the unnerving problem of objects floating around her.

  One Day ago, Jo’s sexy boss, Cormac, noticed her for all the wrong reasons when she witnessed a man transform into a monster in the basement of his casino.

  Today, Cormac ordered her shot.

  If he’s real lucky, she won’t die. Because if she does, all hope is lost.

  Chapter One

  “No, I can’t wait until tomorrow. You need to take her tonight.” I heard Maxine’s voice in the kitchen. I’d been living with her and Charlie for the last two months, and as far as foster homes went, it was one of the better ones. Charlie would watch Sesame Street with me in the morning, and Maxine baked cookies sometimes. She had even made me a cake for my seventh birthday.

  They lived in an apartment, but there was a park across the street that had a swing set. As far as homes go, it was the best I’d ever had, but now it was over.

  “I won’t have her here another night. There is something wrong with her,” Maxine continued. She spoke in a strange breathy tone that I’d never heard her use before.

  I peeked around the corner, keeping myself in the shadows of my still dark room. Maxine and Charlie were standing in the kitchen together. Charlie held one of Maxine’s hands as her other hand held the phone in a white knuckled grip. I’d just read that phrase in a book the other day and been looking for a fitting situation to use it. This seemed to be perfect. Only problem was, there was no one to say it to.

  “Tell them,” Charlie urged Maxine. Charlie was the one I usually liked to try out my flavorful verses on. He called me a savant the other day and smiled. I knew whatever it had meant had made him happy, but now he seemed to want me gone, too.

  Maxine covered the phone piece and then replied to him, “I can’t tell them everything. They’ll think we’re nuts. How are we going to ever get a child then?”

  It was nice while it lasted. I had liked them.

  “Fine, but if you’re not here by tomorrow morning, I’m bringing her to you.” I watched Maxin
e hang the phone back on its cradle on the mustard yellow kitchen wall.

  “Thank god, they’re coming. This kid is freaking me out,” Charlie said, and then hugged Maxine. “I’m sorry, I know you thought maybe she was the one. There are lots of other kids.”

  I knew what they meant. They wanted a normal kid, not me. I pulled my worn green suitcase out of the closet and grabbed Henry, my stuffed penguin off the bed. “It’s okay Henry, we don’t need them. We don’t need anyone.”

  Fifteen Years Later

  The knocking at the door awakened me. Squinting one eye, not having the energy to open both yet, I looked at my alarm clock. One of the minute lights had burned out, so I had to round to the nearest ten minutes. Who in their right mind would be banging on my door at ten to six in the morning? I groaned because I knew the answer already. It was Mrs. Harvey; no one would ever accuse her of being in her right mind.

  “Hang on!” I yelled toward the general vicinity of the door and started looking for pants. Even though I was sure it was Mrs. Harvey, answering the door in a t-shirt and underwear didn’t seem like a good idea. Leaning down, I groped along the cluttered floor in the dark trying to find a pair of sweat pants. I kept forgetting to buy light bulbs, so I had rotated the bedroom light bulb to the living room light, where I liked to do all my studying. After accidentally stepping on one of my textbooks and stabbing myself with a pen, my hand finally landed on familiar cotton.

  The knocking started up again and it felt as if my whole wall shook with the force of the old woman’s pounding. “I’m coming,” I said, as I made my way to the door of my small rented trailer. Swinging the door open, before she could lay her little fists to the paint chipped surface again, I greeted my neighbor.

  Mrs. Harvey was of an unknown age somewhere between eighty and a hundred, if I had to guess. She was very fond of baby blue eye shadow and bright red lipstick. She also liked to wear her hair in a bouffant. She owned the next trailer over with her husband, which looked like the Royal Palace compared to mine.

  “Mrs. Harvey, what’s wrong?”

  “Josephine, Mr. Harvey’s hip is still bothering him, can you come by later today?”

  “Mrs. Harvey, I told you, I’m a premed student, not a doctor. I don’t know how to do any of that stuff, yet.”

  “Can you come by later, anyway? It makes Mr. Harvey feel better.”

  Her sweet voice and the pleading look in her eyes were hard to turn down.

  “Okay, sure, I’ve got the breakfast shift at the diner, and classes after that, but I should be able to swing by around seven?”

  “I’ll make you a nice dinner.”

  “That sounds good,” I said, and I wasn’t lying either. It sounded great. Mrs. Harvey was one of the best cooks I’d ever met. I knew that this wasn’t so much about Mr. Harvey’s hip, as much as that I reminded them of their daughter who had died many years ago.

  After she left, I plopped down on my bed again. I lay there for about ten minutes before I looked at the clock, and I debated how many hours of sleep I could get. Problem was I hadn’t been able to fall asleep last night until I had lain there for two hours. I didn’t think my prospects were much better now.

  I gave up and took a quick shower, instead, then grabbed the cleanest work clothes I could find and my chemistry book. I headed toward the bus stop three blocks away, figuring I could get the morning cook to give me a free omelet for breakfast while I studied before my shift.

  Hours later, when I was sitting in my final lab class for the day, I felt like I was dead on my feet. My lab partner, Lacey, stood next to me. She was the one person I knew whom I considered almost a friend. Not because I saw her outside of school, because I didn’t see anyone outside of school, I didn’t see anyone outside of work, either, for that matter. I wasn’t your typical twenty-something year old. When people realized I was a freak of nature, they usually didn’t stick around for long. And when they couldn’t run, they found a way to push me out. I’d learned that over and over again as a child, being shuttled from one foster home to the next. Every now and then I’d become friendly with someone like Lacey, or the Harvey’s, but I always knew somewhere deep inside it wouldn’t last.

  When I was a child, I used to think that every new home would be the one. My case counselor told me that it was just a matter of finding the right fit. I still remembered the day when I realized that this time wasn’t going to be any different. The day I’d lost hope.

  I had been six and living with one family for five months, an all time record, when the counselor picked me up at school. She had a list of excuses why they hadn’t wanted me, but I knew she lied. I always knew a lie when I heard one. That wasn’t why I was a freak. It’s not some sort of gift, I think I’m just perceptive, and people always give a tell. That’s what they call it in poker when people give up their hand. A tell.

  “Jo!” Lacey was hitting me in the side. “I’m not doing this shit all by myself!”

  Lacey’s voice jolted me out of my half sleep just in time to see my pen floating in front of my face. I grabbed it and shoved it in my pocket before anyone else noticed.

  “What?” I asked, now fully awake.

  “You aren’t helping.” Lacey never lied. She might be a little hard on the senses sometimes, but she was painfully honest.

  “Sorry, I’m just beat. I had the breakfast shift.”

  “Why don’t you let me get you in with me at Lacard? My uncle got promoted to pit boss. I’m positive he can get you in as a cocktail waitress. He already got me in and is going to get me some shifts in the high rollers pit. I bet he could get you in too.”

  The Lacard was the newest and most expensive casino on the Vegas Strip. When I did have free time, which was almost never, I liked to stroll through their high-end mall and imagine all the things I’d buy when I was a doctor one day.

  “You wouldn’t have to work as much then,” Lacey added.

  “I don’t want…”

  “Don’t even start! I know! You hate favors. You can do it for me then, because when you work the morning shifts, you’re barely human, and I find it to be a hostile work environment.” Lacey had started prelaw before she switched to premed. According to her, she would’ve been a brilliant lawyer, but she decided her genius was better spent curing cancer.

  I sat back and looked at her big pleading brown eyes. They were strikingly dark compared to her bleached blond hair, a combination that might have been harsh on someone else but somehow worked well for her.

  I’d had classes on and off with Lacey for the last two years. She had gotten to know me pretty well, or as well as anyone could. She was right, I did hate favors, but I’d be stupid not to take the opportunity. I was holding on to my three point eight GPA by the skin of my teeth, and med schools were fiercely competitive. If I slipped even a little, it would be hell trying to get in a good one, and I could forget about a scholarship of any sort. I had always been a fast learner, rarely having to read something more than once, but I couldn’t keep up with the class work, and the diner to pay the bills, without something taking a hit.

  “Are you sure?” I asked hesitantly.

  Lacey let out a sigh of relief and smiled a Marilyn Monroe smile. I knew she had been practicing those. “Are you kidding? My uncle is going to be thrilled. The casinos are always looking for pretty girls. It is going to be fantastic. You’ll see.”

  Chapter Two

  “Lacey, I don’t know about this.” I smoothed my hand over the black satin of my new uniform. Lacey, true to her word, got her uncle to get me a job. She’d pulled some strings with her boss, who had a crush on her, to get me on her shift.

  “You look stunning, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m naked.”

  “No, you aren’t, silly.”

  “I feel like I’m going to be serving drinks in a bathing suit.”

  “You don’t wear heels and stockings with a bathing suit. Now smush your boobs in a little so I can zip this up for you. I always thought yo
u wore a push up bra. I can’t believe how big your boobs are.”

  “Lacey, if you keep talking, I’m never going to be able to leave this room.”

  “Sorry. Come on. We’ve got to get out on the floor. Just try to be nice, okay?”

  “I’m always nice!”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  I couldn’t have been more out of my comfort zone if I’d been wearing a big red rubber nose and a rainbow wig. My diner uniform was black pants and a white blouse and I blended perfectly into the background. I didn’t want the attention an outfit like this would attract.

  “It feels weird to have my hair down while I’m working.”

  “You’re serving drinks, not food. Plus, we are supposed to be attractive, not look like milk maids. And if I had hair like yours, I wouldn’t put it up in that ugly ratty pony tail all the time.”

  “It’s irritating, and it’s getting too long. I’m just too cheap to get it cut.”

  “You’re lucky you’re a natural blonde and don’t have to dye it all the time. God only knows how bad you’d let your roots get. You have no idea how expensive this gets to be, too,” Lacey said as she pulled a lock of hair forward over her shoulder. “Now, Jonny, the bartender, is kinda creepy, but he gives me free shots when it’s slow, so be nice to him.”

  “I know; I’ve got to be nice. You told me five times already.”

  “Ugggh.”

  “What? I said I’d be nice.”

  “No, not you. See over there?” I looked where she was pointing to the corner of the bar where the bartender, a nice looking dark Italian guy whom I guessed was Jonny, was leaning forward talking to another waitress. She looked to be in her early twenties, with black hair and a slightly Asian appearance, and was dressed like us.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “That’s Vicky. She doesn’t normally work this shift. She must have switched. She thinks she’s boss because she’s sleeping with the owner.”