Bitten by Magic
Agents of SAINT: Book 1
Vivienne Savage
By Vivienne Savage
All material contained herein is Copyright © Vivienne Savage 2017. All rights reserved.
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Contents
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
Other Books by Vivienne
About the Author
Chapter One
December in Texas wasn’t bad, but winter in Mexico made a vast improvement over the state of Yasmin’s mood. She’d have been crazy to turn down tropical beaches and white sand for dreary skies and dead grass. At least, that’s what she thought as she and her two best girlfriends disembarked from the ferry onto the dock of Isla de los Sueños.
Gillian dropped her heavy pack at her feet and shaded her eyes against the noontime sun, fresh highlights glinting golden in the light. “This is gorgeous.”
“Yeah, you weren’t exaggerating,” Amaya agreed. The curvy brunette pulled two suitcases behind her, likely packed to the brim with her entire wardrobe and makeup collection.
“Told you two it’d be worth the trip.”
Amaya tugged one of her suitcases as it caught on the dock. “I dunno how we’re ever gonna pay back your dad for this.”
Yasmin grinned at her friends. “Don’t. Like, really, don’t even try. He was happy to foot the bill so we could have some quality girl time. Besides, I think he has some warped notion that maybe I’ll meet a guy or something. He mentioned grandkids, like him and Mom aren’t still fit to pop another one of their own out.”
“They probably wanted us off the property so they could do all kinds of naked Pagan romping through the wilderness again,” Gillian teased.
Ugh. Yasmin hadn’t even wanted to consider that. “Exactly. Let’s hope I get a cool baby brother out of this at least.” While her mother had always provided a candid upbringing about sexuality, both parents had been strangely silent about their reasons for shipping her and her friends off to a singles mingler for the supernatural on an island owned by a dragon—not just any dragon either, but the one married to her mom’s best friend.
According to River and Zacarias, there wasn’t a safer place in all the world to be, except home, of course, since her parents were a literal goddess and demigod.
Which made her a demigoddess too, technically. As far as her friends knew, they weren’t anything more than a family of shifters and witches, Yasmin blessed with the best qualities of both and neither of the drawbacks, like the Mary Sue of a bad fan fiction story.
“So where to first?”
Yasmin laughed at Amaya’s enthusiasm. “Room first, then the beach. You can show off whatever overpriced bikini you brought along.”
“Please, as if I only brought one.” Amaya winked.
Not that Yasmin was any better since she’d broken the bank at Agent Provocateur, spending too many hundreds of her humble savings account on delicate one-pieces and flirty slip dresses. The difference between Amaya and Yasmin, however, was that one blew through her paychecks as quickly as she received them, while the other preferred to save her money without relying heavily on her parents.
And for the first time since landing a well-deserved job at her father’s game studio, she’d actually cut loose and spent a couple grand on herself at her mother’s behest. Besides, what she’d spent at the store to outfit herself for the vacation didn’t compare to the thousands her father paid, even if it was at a discounted friends and family rate.
Being friends with the owner had its perks. After the girls checked in, a beach hottie employed by the resort escorted them to a bungalow on the beach. The three-bedroom suite featured first-class amenities and included VIP access to all island attractions.
“These are your wristbands,” Esteban explained to them in his swoon-worthy accent. “Enjoy your stay, señoritas.”
Amaya stared at him until he left the area. “I thought Mr. Silva had the best accent, but he’s totally beaten your dad out, Yaz.”
Yasmin chuckled. She’d been the kid with the hot dad for years, and it wasn’t going to change anytime soon since her father wouldn’t age beyond his mid-thirty-year-old appearance. Aside from a few subtle grays in his beard and around his temples, her mother had frozen him in time.
As the years went by, Yasmin’s own age would eventually reach the plateau as well. But for now, she resembled any other girl in her early twenties.
A girl with a desperate need to feel some sun on her skin and the ocean breeze through her hair. They split up to unpack their wardrobes and change into beach attire, but the extravagance of their dwelling distracted her. Tasteful paintings of the beach and wilderness decorated most of the walls, which had also been painted in shades of red, orange, and yellow. Each bedroom had its own personal bath, a deep basin tub at the corner surrounded by privacy curtains.
Did I expect anything less?
After testing the bed and convincing herself to leave its cloudlike embrace, she peeked out of the curtains into the rear yard. A privacy fence surrounded a swinging bench, grill, and small garden.
Determined to have fun with her father’s exorbitant purchase, Yasmin chose a one-piece designed to resemble a bikini with cheeky bottoms from the rear. The plunging neckline performed an act of sorcery by somehow hoisting the girls and adding a cup size to her modest handfuls. Once finished plaiting her hair into a single braid, she stepped outside to meet her friends in the common room.
Contrasting Yasmin, Amaya wore a colorblock, white and blue triangle bikini over her darker skin, and Gillian had donned a pink top with an enormous black mesh panel between the crop top’s tiny opaque cups. As for the bottoms, very little of them existed.
“I feel like a nun compared to the both of you,” Yasmin teased while they helped Gillian smooth sunblock over her fair skin.
Amaya wiped her hands against her thighs when they finished. “There. We’ve aided our melanin-challenged friend. Now we can catch these waves. Y’all ready, girls?”
Gillian stuck her tongue out at her. “Totally ready.”
“Me too.”
They hurried outside and crossed paths with a group of surfers carrying boards toward the water. Two of them wore Speedos revealing the amazing definition of their muscular bottoms.
“I don’t know if we’re on vacation or in heaven,” Gillian said as she raised a hand to her heart.
One of the guys glanced at them, did a double take, then elbowed his pal. Leering, interested eyes watched the girls until the guys traveled beyond view.
“Heaven,” Amaya concluded. “And we have about five or six hours to explore it before it’s time to change for tonight’s big singles part
y with the paranormal crowd. If the rest of your people are as fun as you, I can’t wait!
Yasmin sighed. A singles party was the last thing she wanted to do, but if it made her friends happy, who was she to complain?
Javier had a love-hate relationship with his island home when it came to their single mixers. Ever since his mother had helped develop the idea behind the most successful dating agency for supernaturals, his father had offered up his resort as a location for their events. It meant more young people for Javier to meet, but on the other hand, it meant more girls vying for his attention because he was a dragon.
Society had made the words “dragon” and “loaded” synonymous.
He’d wanted nothing more than to hide out at home until the week-long party was over, but his mother had other ideas.
“Go be sociable,” she said, throwing open his bedroom curtains. Bright morning sunshine spilled through the windows.
“Mom.”
Marceline Vargas-Arcillanegro stood bathed in the sunlight with her hands on both hips. “Don’t you ‘mom’ me, mijo. We didn’t give you your own place so you could sleep the day away.”
“Dragons are nocturnal,” he grumbled.
“The term you want is diurnal, which means dragons prefer activity during dusk and dawn until they become much older like your father. Besides, your dad does well enough during the day, and so can you. Get up and go out there. Have some fun.”
He rubbed his eyes. “Doing what? Drinking?”
She frowned at him. “You know there’s more to do than that.”
“Yeah, I know.” Javier’s shoulders slumped. His mother rarely intruded without a reason, often leaving him to sleep for as long as he wanted. While the place had technically been given to him, both parents had been clear about the one-bedroom bungalow coming without strings attached. Until now. She clearly wanted something. “What’s this really about?”
“I just thought you’d want to go see an old friend of yours. Do you remember Yasmin?”
“A little, I guess.” What he remembered was a gangly girl who preferred to run around as a jaguar and roam the restricted areas of the island. She’d led him on a merry chase, and they’d both gotten in trouble, but that had been years ago.
She’d visited every year with her mother until she was about fifteen or sixteen. By then, she’d lost interest in the island—and in him. He’d really missed her company over the past six years, but he’d never had the balls to ask his mom if he could go seek out his old friend and visit her in Texas.
“Well, she and her friends are on the island. It’s been a few years since her parents have brought her around, so maybe you could show them the best sights. I assigned them to the Pearl Cottage.”
Which was her subtle way of telling him he’d been appointed the duty of showing them around.
“Fine. I’ll go out to the main beach. Happy?”
“Appeased,” she said, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “Love you, mijo.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
After he dragged himself into the shower and cleaned up, Javier pulled a rowboat from his little stretch of private beach and set off for the main island.
A redhead disturbed the surface by popping up from beneath the waves to his left. “Hey.”
Javier glanced over. “Hey, Phoebe.”
“You’re looking glum. Heading to the office for another boring afternoon of finances?”
“Nah. Mom’s done with trying to turn me into an accountant. She’s now tasked me with an even greater mission.”
“Yeah?”
“I have to entertain some family friends,” he deadpanned.
Phoebe placed a hand above her heart. “Oh no, say it isn’t so. Forced to socialize. Certainly it’s a death sentence by another name.” She fell back, feigning death and sinking beneath the water, only to resurface again to his right and splash water at him with a sweep of her hand. “Lighten up, Javier. It’s not that bad.”
“I hate these dating things, you know that.”
“They’re not that bad.”
“Maybe for you. Guys buy you drinks. All I get is boobs thrust in my face and girls expecting me to pay for their stuff.”
Phoebe rolled her eyes and splashed him again. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were gay. Since when does a guy hate having girls throwing themselves at him?”
“The term you’re looking for is asexual, actually. Besides, I don’t have to be gay or ace to dislike random strangers throwing their sweaty tits at me. I like boobs and girls just fine. It’s just… I dunno.” He searched for a word, only to mutter, “Impersonal. It all feels disingenuous and impersonal. I know they couldn’t give a damn about me, and it’s all about the inheritance they think I’ll pull in from Dad.”
“Fair enough. Want me to tag along? I can run defense if they’re grabby and irritating.”
“Nah, I got it. Besides, don’t you have a show or something this afternoon?”
Phoebe sighed. “Yeah. I do. To be honest, I’m kind of bored with it sometimes. It’s the same choreographed performance every day. They won’t add anything new, and no one listens to me when I tell them we need a change.”
“Be a rebel like me.” The bleak storm clouds above his dismal mood dispersed at last. “Ditch or just change it up without telling them. What are they going to do? Yank you out of the tank?”
“I don’t know…”
“You scared?”
“My mom will lose her shit if I change it. She made that routine.”
“Lemme tell you a secret. Your mom? She’s the one who got Kekoa to play the first merman role and started that whole trend. So she can’t get mad at you for pioneering something new when she did the exact same thing.”
Phoebe’s brows drew together. “Really?”
“Really. So throw all that bullshit to the wayside and do you, chica.”
“Thanks, Javier. Take your own advice and try to have fun playing tour guide at least. Go off the rails and do the shit your dad wouldn’t want you to do. Streak across the beach. Embarrass the family name a little.”
“I’m not getting naked for them.”
Another splash—this time kicked up from the shifter’s tail after she transformed to her hippocampus body—washed over him and rocked his rowboat. Javier grinned and resumed his course to the main island.
Isla de los Sueños had become more of an archipelago over the years, with small islands pulled from the earth to create new land formations. They’d been sculpted by the combined magical effort of Teotihuacan Arcillanegro and a water dragoness named Otohime.
The original paradise catered to elite clientele seeking a quiet, serene escape from the busy island. The southern resort, by contrast, had become a family friendly locale as well as the center for marine research in the Yucatán Peninsula.
Needing employees to remain on the resort year round to keep it running at peak efficiency, Teo had constructed another designated residential zone for his staff. Most of them lived on the southern coast of the original resort, or the northern beach of the new family park. As for Javier, his father had built him a special island of his own, the four-room beach house a short distance away from the private paradise where his parents had lived for almost three decades.
Unlike the tourists, no one came up to greet him on the beach landing to drag his boat from the water. He did that on his own, laying it out where the employees stored their watercraft before waving to the nearby attendants.
Javier knew everyone on the island by name and considered the full-timers a second family. Most of them had helped raise him, even entertaining him while his mother and father worked in the administrative offices.
So why did he still feel so out of place?
Shaking the morose thoughts off, he headed across the beach to the line of cottages reserved for special guests. Pearl Cottage was at the far end, set apart from the others with its own garden.
“Hello? Anyone there?”
N
o one answered his heavy knock on the door.
Considering his obligation fulfilled, he abandoned the search for Yasmin and retreated to the beach. After all, he’d said he’d drop by, not that he’d track her down.
Chapter Two
Yasmin didn’t know about attending the special mixer for paranormals and humans interested in dating them. Her mother had suggested it, but she worried about picking up some sleazy shifter who recognized her family name—or worse, a human with a fetish for fur.
Having two famous, stupidly successful parents sucked sometimes because she never knew who pursued her with genuine interest. How the hell was she ever supposed to have any kind of life if the moment she mentioned her dad’s name, a guy’s eyes lit up with interest and he had to ask if her father was that Zacarias Silva, owner of Spellbound Games? He and Uncle Harrison ran one of the most successful game studios in the United States, but it hadn’t always been that way. Hard work had built their nerdy empire, and Yasmin was thrilled to be part of it as one of their leading voice actors.
A representative from one of her favorite companies had even contacted her to voice the lead character of their hit franchise. She couldn’t wait to be a time-traveling assassin, but part of her had feared it would be a betrayal of her family.
Until her dad promised to disown her if she backed out of the deal.
After sticking a silly color-coded name tag above her left boob that identified her as a shifter, she beelined to the bar and ordered a tropical daiquiri. There, she tried to hide without anyone noticing her.
“Anything to eat, señorita?” the bartender asked.
“Coconut shrimp and fried plantains please.”
Bitten by Magic: Agents of SAINT: Book 1 Page 1
