Wickedly They Come (The Wickedly Series Book 1)

by Cathrina Constantine

  Ronan held up her hand, stopping Paisley. The right side of her mouth curved. “Jordan, we’re all friends here. I’m trying to help you, and I think you can help me.” She set her hand on Jordan’s shoulder and leaned in with self-assurance. “I can contact, Davian, a powerful spirit. He can uncover the answers. He’s temperamental, but gifted.”

  Weighing Ronan’s budding clairvoyance over the past few hours, it figured she was on a first name basis with the spirit. Why did Jordan feel they’d crossed an extremely dangerous line?

  Looking away from her spellbinding eyes, Jordan sighed. “Ronan, you’re creeping me out.” She shrugged free of the girl’s confining hand. “I’ll think about your offer.” Experiencing a bone deep chill, she hugged herself and rubbed her palms over her arms.

  Cayden switched on the television. Apparently, provoking demons was at an end. Jordan snagged her jacket and dug in the pocket for the vial of holy water. Gone. She looked over her shoulder at the girls.

  She’d been outfoxed, but by whom?

  SOFTER THAN BUTTER

  IS THEIR SPEECH

  SEELEY SWEPT INTO the Warner Theater and settled on a cushioned seat near the stage. In human form, an unpredictable Ezekiel claimed the seat beside her. Unlike those gathered, he wore frayed jeans and a black T-shirt that accented his muscular frame. His ebony hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and his steely eyes were pinned on Seeley.

  “Are you here to stir up a boiling kettle?” he asked point blank.

  “Something like that.” She inspected him from head to toe. “I see you’ve dressed tastefully.”

  “You’re here to make a statement.” Ezekiel was rarely facetious. “And I’m here to be noticed by the Master.” His mouth tightened as if the word tasted repugnant.

  The highlight of the symposium on financial success was tonight’s guest speaker—billionaire, Asa Trebane.

  Seeley, motionless during the dull facts and figures, stilted a clap as Asa strode in like a peacock, clothed to impress in a licorice black Brioni suit, a white Eton button-down with diamond cuff links, and Italian loafers. He reeked of superiority.

  Asa’s silver-tongue twined an invisible noose around the audience. People snickered time and again at his airy, depraved jokes on the economy and the ignorant poor bastard without a brain to help himself.

  In a deliberate clerical tone, he addressed the issues at hand. “Financial success can be achieved by all.” More applause. “Look around you.” He gestured pompously toward the financial experts seated on the stage. “We are here to help you reach your richly deserved goals.”

  Seeley wasn’t surprised to see the woman with the feral eyes nodding her head during Asa’s dissertation.

  “They call her Veronka,” Zeke said. “She serves the higher echelons around the world with Trebane as her so-called boss. Even teenagers have formed cults to worship the devil.”

  Seeley frowned. “Is she human?”

  “Feel her essence. Look at her closely. Human or demon, what gives them away?”

  Seeley remembered the reddish eyes. “Demon.” She should’ve known.

  “We are here to advise and instruct,” Asa clarified. “To offer a decisive formula to begin your road to success. How to achieve financial stability? Hard work and shrewdness. You there.” He pointed directly at a man sitting in the front row. “I notice a medal around your neck, a holy cross? Do you pray to help you financially? Does He help? A resounding no. Clean those notions from your mind. Win financial security, stability, and material possessions by the sweat of your brow. Money is our goal. Money is our power! Money rules the world.”

  Beguiled souls gave him a standing ovation, cheering.

  “If anyone here wishes to become a millionaire, or even a billionaire, follow my advice. You must eat or be eaten. However, anyone who can’t stomach my methods and wishes to remain inferior, feel free to leave.”

  A hushed silence reigned. A lone woman stood up, silky auburn hair, wearing a fitted pastel blouse and a charcoal-gray pencil skirt that clung to her curvaceous figure. Whispering abounded, wondering what the woman was going to ask. Holding Asa’s critical gaze, Seeley intentionally turned her back on him.

  Mutterings mixed through the theater as heads craned to watch. Shoulders defiantly straight, the audacious woman strode straight up the aisle. The click-clack of her heels sounded like a discreet alarm as she left through the double doors into the vestibule. They slammed behind her like a slap in the face.

  Seeley lingered. Zeke was the first to barge through the doors, and with a curt nod to her, he prudently disappeared. Her mouth spread into a smile as a steady exodus followed her example. Not all souls are duped into believing Asa. Once outside, she hailed a taxi and asked to be driven to the nearest church.

  Her knees still knocking, Seeley lit a candle, thankful for certain accomplished deeds. Replaying her exit, she could almost hear Asa gasp when she stood. A smug grin had its way with her mouth, and after a fleeting glance around the church, she slid into an empty pew.

  She closed her eyes. Dragging in a profound breath, Seeley cleansed her mind for the Spirit to lead her into contemplative prayer.

  There was a creak of a kneeler behind her and hot breath in her ear. She smelled the leech, Asa Trebane. Paralyzed, she couldn’t move as his refined sorcery imprisoned her. Since Jack’s duplicity, Asa had had years to cultivate an unquenchable desire and hatred for her. Yet, Seeley was positive the church was a safe haven and took another deep breath.

  “I’m biding my time because I enjoy our cat-and-mouse games,” Asa said in a sardonic undercurrent. “But once you become unappealing, so to say, I will find a way to break your protective shield, and you will be annihilated.”

  “Think, Seeley. Think back to the day your daughter was conceived.” His voice weaved threads of distant memories. “You know the answer, and you know Jordan will be ours. The sacrificial consecration will take place within the year.”

  ASTOUNDING EVEN HERSELF, Seeley had fallen for the handsome, charming Jack Chase within a week’s time. She had later learned that a touch of Jack’s distinctive magic had pushed her along. She would have followed him anywhere—even into the devil’s den—and she’d agreed to visit his place of worship.

  Mutinous thickets had claimed the building, inconspicuously buried in the deteriorating industrial park. Weathered gray planks, sucked dry of their color, had shuttered gothic casements. When Jack had parted the heavy oaked doors and shepherded her into the dim vestibule, she’d instinctively wanted to bolt. A whiff of rotting timber and something else, something she hadn’t quite been able to place until later—the smell of blood—had greeted them.

  Seeley hadn’t expected that her existence would become unraveled on that fateful night.

  In an ocean of black-robed people, she’d gripped tightly to Jack’s arm as he’d tugged her forward to a bleating, horned ram and the strange altar with the inverted crucifix. Her soul had cried in agony. Disillusioned with Jack and the members who’d pledged their allegiance to the Devil, she’d wanted to flee.

  The rhythmic chanting had robbed Seeley of her ability to function, emotionally and physically. Asa had magically steered a lethal axe, and it had floated precariously in the air before coming to a standstill, teetering dangerously over the ram’s head. Indefinable utterance had escalated.

  The chanting had stopped.

  Asa’s arm had slashed through the air, and the axe had hewed the ram’s neck in one ugly stroke. The body had crumpled to the ground, and Asa had hoisted the head by the horns, blood gushing for all to see. Seeley had nearly fainted as men had rushed with buckets to catch the draining fluid.

  Jack had steadied her swaying body. When robed figures had offered her the sacrificial goblet, she’d refused by shaking her head and biting her lips together.

  “You must,” Jack had breathed in her ear. “You’re obligated by the rite to consume.”

  “No, Jack, don’t…don’t make me.” His fierce
ness triggered teary droplets to course down her cheeks.

  Jack had snatched the goblet and filled his mouth. Grasping Seeley’s face with both hands, he’d kissed her, prying open her lips and forcing the warm blood into her mouth. She’d tried pushing him away as the metallic gore clogged her throat. Hooded creatures had gazed, jeering their approval.

  There must’ve been a mind-altering drug in the liquid, because she’d felt obscenely inebriated. That night, loving Jack in a capacity she’d never felt possible, she had given him all she had to offer—body and soul.

  In the twilight hours of the morning, she’d awakened in his bed, thunderstruck and mortified by her passionate memories of the night before. Stabbing tears had stung as she’d evoked the aftermath of Jack’s assault—she couldn’t call it a kiss. She’d dressed quickly and quietly, but he’d stirred. He’d leapt from the bed, embracing her.

  Jack had sent shivers through her body as his tongue traced her neck and found her lips. Holding his hands on either side of her face, he’d gazed into her eyes. “Thank you, Seeley,” he’d said with hunger. “I’ve never felt this way.”

  And Seeley had been pregnant—

  SEELEY BURST FREE of the spell—reuniting with the present. How long had she been under Asa’s influence? Unfurling her fists, she peered down. Her fingernails had cut half-moons into her palms. Shakily standing, she gazed around church, no Asa. Sagging into the wooden pew, she pressed her brow. I’ll never forget that day—or night.

  Asa believed Satan had ordained the blood ceremony uniting Jack and Seeley, and that the warrior born to them, Jordan, rightly belonged to him. Jack’s crucified body haunted her, only this time, she pictured Jordan. Asa’s warning seized her heart, and she breathed deep, trying to regulate the palpitations.

  Composing herself into a semblance of calm, she checked her watch, and saw she was late. The meeting can begin without me, she thought, and lingered to light a candle. She gazed at the statue of Saint Joseph and whispered, “Saint Joseph, please intercede for my daughter. And protect her like you protected your little family while on earth.”

  Seeley pushed through the church doors into a sunny afternoon. Screening her eyes from the light she detected Veronka on the sidewalk filing her nails with an emery board. For some reason she wasn’t surprised—Asa had many methods of persecution.

  Determined to ignore the woman, she hurried past to her destination.

  Veronka strode doggedly at her shoulder, glaring at her with red-ringed eyes. “You’re presumptuous of having the upper hand,” she said, her voice threatening. “Asa’s holding back, for some reason. He hates you for killing his son, but he speaks…fondly of you.”

  Faltering, Seeley’s stomach cramped. “Asa killed Jack.”

  “No, it was you, Seeley.” Veronka let her words absorb before saying, “You killed Jack. If you would have joined us, he’d still be alive.”

  Veronka was screwing with her mind. “I’d die first.” Her teeth clenched.

  “Someday, somehow, I will get my revenge on you and your precious daughter,” Veronka said in a withering tone, as if she needed the last word. Then she dashed across the intersection without a backward glance.

  Seeley gripped her cell phone and punched in Jordan’s number. She waited until it went to voice-mail. “Just wanted to hear your voice and make sure you’re all right. Call me.”

  She dialed her parents, but no one answered.

  IT WAS AFTER eleven when the taxi dropped Seeley at her motel. She keyed in Jordan’s cell number and waited. It went straight to voice mail again. Annoyed, she called her parents. Henry picked up on the first ring.

  “Hey, Dad, how are you?”

  “Fine,” he yawned into the phone. “Where are you?”

  “Erie, Pennsylvania. Sorry to call so late, but I can’t get through to Jordan. Is she home?”

  “She’s staying at her new friend’s house. Hang on.”

  She heard Henry ask her mother what the girl’s name was and then some shuffling.

  Emily spoke into the phone. “Hi, honey. Are you all right? We miss you.”

  “Thanks, Mom, but it’s only been a few days. Where’s Jordan?”

  “She’s sleeping over at a friend’s. The girl’s name is Ronan Beckman. Jordan seemed excited, so we said it was all right.”

  “She’s not picking up her phone, and that’s what worries me.”

  “The girls are probably listening to that loud music or something. You know how teenagers are nowadays,” Emily reasoned.

  If you only knew the truth.

  She anxiously called Jordan again and was relieved to hear her daughter’s voice.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “I was worried when you didn’t answer. Emily said you’re at Ronan Beckman’s?”

  “Yes, I’m here,” she answered. “Cayden and Paisley are here, too. We’re just talking about the Winter Ball next month. How’s everything going? Are you okay?” Jordan spoke too fast and guiltily.

  “I don’t want to brag,” Seeley said. “But I went to Asa Trebane’s financial conference, and I caused a little anarchy without speaking a word. Sometimes action alone is enough to knock some sense into people.”

  “Cool. Did you have the first meeting that Father James set up?”

  “Yes. For some unknown reason, a neighborhood demon felt his presence was required. Thankfully, the man in charge spotted him.”

  “What happened?”

  “Let’s just say there’s one less creature to deal with.” Seeley unzipped the suitcase, flung open the lid, and rummaged for pajamas. “We’ll talk more when I get home in about a week. Have fun with your friends. Oh, do you have holy water?”

  “Mom, I’m fine. Everything’s good.”

  “Love you. See you soon.”

  She peeled off her skirt and blouse and slipped into the bathroom. Luxuriating in the balmy spray for half an hour, her mental strain washed away. She wrapped the fluffy towel around her flushed, stress-free body, and breezed through the steamy room.

  “Hello, Seeley,” a slimy voice came from a shadowed corner.

  Frightened, she whirled and gasped. Asa sat on the cushioned chair like a king, his pointy chin lifted as he ogled her.

  “Get the hell out.” Clinging to the towel, she retreated a step.

  Asa frisked her with his eyes, his mouth curved with an optimistic quirk. “I’ve come in peace. A truce, so we can talk.”

  “Your arrogance precedes you, Trebane. Why would I speak to the devil?”

  “Please, call me Asa.”

  His sneer crinkled his eyes into a most sinister expression. “I could give you anything and everything the world has to offer.” He lifted his palm to prevent her outburst. “I may reconsider the consecration of your daughter. I’ll call off the hounds, so to speak. But Jack left us high and dry. The marker must be paid, either by Jordan or by you.”

  Seeley coldly studied him. His proposition intrigued her for a few unspeakable moments. Then she shook her head, incensed. “Do you truly think I’d be gullible enough to believe a pathological liar?

  His lean frame pushed upward. “We could perform a blood oath, sealing the bargain, you for your daughter.”

  She actually paused to consider his obscene proposal.

  “You’d better act quickly. The oath would put a stop to Veronka’s revenge.”

  Now interested, she struggled to keep her emotions from showing as Asa reeled her in like a floundering fish.

  “How would that stop her?”

  “Veronka would have to comply with the oath. She’d rather obey and maintain her worldly deployment than rush to perpetual misery.” He rubbed his hands together, sure of the deal.

  “What do you want from me?” Her heart throbbed, and not in a good way.

  Asa closed the distance and caressed her bare shoulders. His breath fanned her neck. “I think you know what I want.”

  The man’s repulsive touch shattered Seeley.

  THE CHILL HAS
ICED MY BONES

  “JORDAN. SH-H-H, IT’S okay, honey. I’m here, Grandma’s here.”

  Em’s hands kept sliding off Jordan’s arms, which were slick with perspiration. Astonishingly quick and sturdy for her age, Emily finally harnessed her flailing arms. She hugged her, sticky sweat and all, smoothed her matted hair from her forehead, and calmed her screeching.

  “I’m okay, Em,” Jordan panted. “Really.”

  Her nightly shrieks had reached her grandparents’ bedroom, bringing them racing to her bedside. Jordan’s mother, scarcely gone a week, and the nightmares had increased after the sleepover. In the dim room, she saw concern on her grandmother’s elderly face. Emily made no move to leave and instead, she nestled beneath the quilt. Actually glad for Emily’s company, Jordan rolled over, and her grandmother massaged her back with a maternal touch.

  Soon, she heard Emily’s light snore, the sound allaying her fretfulness. Afraid of dozing and returning to her nightmare, she kept her eyes open, gazing into the darkness. The corners melted from navy to muted grays. Finally, she eased off the mattress and dressed for school, leaving Em still whiffing.

  December lived up to its reputation. Jordan slouched out the back door and a glacial gale nearly tore it from its hinges. When she looked up from navigating the icy patches on the driveway, Markus stood there with arms crossed, leaning on the mailbox post.

  He smiled disarmingly. She suddenly remembered the girls’ gushy commentary, and as she strolled near, she took inventory. Yes, Markus was tall with a nice body, windblown hair, longer than the norm, and most of all, fathomless eyes a glossy bluish-purple like the autumn sky right after sunset.

  She returned his contagious smile. “Where’ve you been?”

  “I’m around, always around. Do you mind if I walk with you?” He seized her backpack and flung it over his shoulder before she had a chance to answer.