Wicked Destiny_A Reverse Harem Urban Fantasy Series

by L. C. Hibbett

  I frowned at the raven haired beauty as she rested her hip on a table and directed her conversation toward Patrick. Blackwood waved a cell phone in her direction and she disappeared across the room as I reached Patrick. His head lifted and he turned around to meet my gaze. His eyes looked gray in the morning light, or perhaps, the weight of grief had leached the color from his irises. I settled onto the seat beside him and rested my head on his shoulder. He wound his fingers through mine. “You’re up.”

  My lips twisted into a smile and I tilted my head to look into his face. “You’re surprised?”

  “No.” He admitted.

  I straightened his crumpled shirt with my free hand. “You know, life must be pretty boring if you know everything before it happens.”

  “I don’t know everything.” Patrick’s brow furrowed as he stared at our hands and I squeezed his fingers hard. His lips curved upward and he gave me a sly glance out of the corner of his eye. “But sometimes it gives me something nice to look forward to.”

  Heat flushed through my cheeks and down into my tingling core as his gaze caressed my body and I shook my head. “You’re a tease, Patrick Joyce, has anyone ever told you that?”

  “Disturbingly enough, Snow did about five minutes ago.” Patrick widened his eyes in horror.

  I pursed my lips. “That flirtatious little—”

  “Destiny, I’m glad to see you on your feet.” Snow appeared in front of us without warning and I grasped Patrick’s hand in fright. I still had no idea what sort of creature the Snow was. Were snake shifters an actual thing? She narrowed her eyes as if she could read my mind and I flashed her my best attempt at an innocent smile. “Your aunt and sister just called to say they will back shortly with your daughter and Maya. They went to purchase a cake from a bakery?”

  “I know,” I said. “I asked them to. It’s a good luck in your new business cake, I would have asked Lan to bake it, but you won’t tell me where she’s gone, or when she’ll be back, or if I’m going to have this necklace attached to my body until I rot in my grave.”

  Snow completely ignored my comments about Lan and folded her arms across her chest. “What new business?”

  The door to the room opened and Aoife and Izzy strolled into the room accompanied by Magnus, who had been elected to remain as Coven Leader, joined in the Triad by Aoife and Elizabeth. Markus followed them into the room with Saoirse hanging on his back and Maya by his side. I was too far away to hear what she was telling him, but I had a sneaking suspicion it involved arctic creatures. Nick winked at me from the back of the room as I got to my feet and faced Snow. I straightened my shoulders.

  “Hi everyone, it’s me—your friendly neighborhood daughter of death.” A chuckle fluttered through the room and I felt the knot in my stomach loosen slightly. “Magnus, thank you for coming as a representative of the Free Witches.” The silver-haired man bowed his head and smiled. “And, Amelia, thank you for being patient while I decided what path is best for my family.” I spread my hands and glanced from Izzy and Aoife, to Markus and the kids, onto Nick, before landing on Patrick. “All my family.”

  I took a deep breath. “I’ve considered the offer the coven has extended to myself and my daughter and friends, and I’ve considered the Guilds offer of protection, and I’ve decided…I’m going to start a business.”

  “Excuse me?” Snow snapped.

  I repeated myself. “A business. Although, it’s really more like a charity because the I.G.S. are going to fund it and cover all its costs.”

  “We’re going to fund your business venture?” Snow repeated. “Because?”

  “Because if you don’t, I disappear off the face of the earth taking all my family with me, including my sister and her mates,” I said. Izzy nodded her support.

  Snow pinched her lips. “I see. And what kind of business will we be funding for the pleasure of keeping track of your location?”

  “A private investigation service for supernaturals or humans with supernatural problems—helping anyone who needs us. Nick, Markus, Patrick, and I will be the full-time staff, but you’ll let Lan, Izzy and her guys remain with us for as long as we need them too.” Nick and Markus glanced at each other with expressions of surprise but I pushed on. “You’ll gift this property to us effective immediately, but the Guild will continue to pay all bills and related charges, as well as a full salary of my choice and a considerable expense account. In return, I’ll agree to meet with the Guild once a month and disclose any developments with my powers.” I held my breath and met Snow’s glare. “Do we have a deal?”

  “And your concerns for your daughter’s safety? You don’t think the Guild would offer more security?” Snow pressed.

  Magnus raised his hand. “Or the coven?”

  I looked around the room at the family of my heart and I shook my head. “No. I think she’s going to be just fine with her family.”

  Snow nodded and caught my hand in a firm handshake. “Congratulations on your new venture, Miss O’Neill. I think we all deserve a slice of cake.”

  Aoife smiled and my mouth split into a grin. It was time to swim.

  The End

  ***

  Thank you so much for reading Wicked Destiny, I really hoped you enjoyed it. If you did, please leave a review to let me know—your reviews mean the world to me. Want to read more books like this? Check out Beauty’s Beasts (Poison Courts Novel 1), Izzy and her mates’ origin story—available HERE

  Book 2 in the Wicked Witch Series, Wicked Heart, and Snow’s origin story, Snow’s Soldiers (Poison Courts Novel 2) will be available in 2018. If you would like to get emails to let you know when it’s released or when my books will be on FREE promotions, please CLICK HERE to subscribe to my newsletter.

  Wicked Witch

  A Prequel Story to the Wicked Witch series

  Raise the dead, raise the dead, raise the dead. The chanting was too faint for humans to detect from the street, but it pounded against my ears like a bass drum. I clenched my back teeth as I unlocked the gate to Glasnevin cemetery. Talk about indiscretion. My classmates were fools. The light from my fingertips cast an eerie glow on the carved angels watching me from a nearby headstone, and a burst of raucous laughter echoed down the avenue as I closed the gate behind me. I knew exactly where to find the party—I’d chosen the crypt myself.

  “Hey, what are you doing in here? The graveyard is closed.” Damn. A beam of light fell on the path in front of my feet and flashed across my face. My stare narrowed on the middle-aged security guard lumbering across the gravel. Beads of sweat were building in the creases of his forehead, despite the cool night air.

  If I were a Silver Witch, I might have charmed my face into something that would have fulfilled his deepest desires and left him lusting after something he could never have—an unquenchable thirst. The burly guard planted himself on the path in front of me and shone the light in my eyes. I snapped my fingers and watched him collapse to the ground. His flashlight rolled across the grass and flickered for a moment before it died, leaving the crumpled figure in darkness. I stepped over the unconscious body.

  I wasn’t a Silver Witch.

  Willow was the first to notice me when I entered the clearing in front of the burial rooms. The party had already started. There must have been thirty students from Dagda Prep gathered around the bonfire, and the ground was littered with more empty booze bottles than there were people. Willow’s blond hair reflected the purple and green flames of the magical fire like an iridescent halo. She teetered over to me on five-inch heels. One of her hands clutched an open bottle of champagne, while the other hand attempted to pull her dress down over her thighs. Only Willow could make a couture dress look cheap. She squealed and threw her arms around my neck. “Destiny, you made it. I totally thought you were going to blow us off.” Her breath was moist as she whispered into my ear. “You know, with everything that’s going on, maybe you should give tonight a miss?”

  “I invented Graveyard Fridays, Willow. W
hy would I flake on my own party? And I told you—there’s nothing going on.” I buried my fist inside the pocket of my leather jacket and curled my fingers around the narrow object I had covered meticulously in plastic wrap a few hours before. Sealing my fate like it was a piece of luncheon meat. Or a poison apple. I contemplated tossing it into the fire and watching it burn like the piece of trash it was, but I didn’t. I needed it in my hand to remind me that I couldn’t back out. I had to tell Mark. Tonight.

  Willow ignored my response and prodded my oversized black shirt with her fingertip. “Gods, Destiny. You could have made an effort. Mark could have any girl he wants. My mom says a woman doesn’t deserve to keep her man if she can’t be bothered to make sure she looks good for him.”

  “Your mother has been divorced four times, Willow. Maybe you should find another relationship guru.” For a split second Willow reminded me of a carp—her eyes bulging and her mouth snapping open and shut. The flash of self-satisfaction faded from my blood, and I uncurled my clenched hands. “Sorry, that was bitchy. I like your mom.”

  Lie. Willow’s mother was the worst kind of shallow. She was the archetypical Silver Witch, a pretty face that concealed a rotten core. I had hated everything about her since the day my father married her on my sixth birthday. Willow seemed to think the fact that our parents had once been hitched made us sisters, but I knew better. My father had been married a hundred times in his long life. He lined his wives and children up and knocked them down like toy soldiers. Witches, descendants of the immortal Celtic gods, were nothing but toys to him—Balor’s playthings. The marriage barely lasted a year before he tossed Willow and her mother aside like garbage, but ten years later, I still had to see Willow every day at school. Leaving the Family wasn’t an option, nobody got to escape. Unless they managed to find a place with the Free Witches or they were one of the Vanished. I swallowed hard at the thought of the missing witches.

  The chatter around the bonfire suddenly escalated into whooping and hollering, drawing my eyes away from Willow’s narrowed glare and onto the figure making its way through the rows of tombstones. My heart began to beat a little faster. Even through the night mist, there was no mistaking those broad shoulders or that careless strut. I refocused my attention on Willow. I needed her out of the way before Mark got here so that I could talk to him properly.

  “You’re right, Wil. I should make more of an effort with my appearance.” I gave her my best attempt at a winning smile, and Willow pursed her gloss-covered lips. Mark was close enough for me to make out his chiseled jaw and his stormy gaze as it raked the crowd. I gritted my teeth and reached for the big guns. “Honestly, Willow, it’s not as easy for me. I’m not pretty like you. It’s a lot harder for me to find clothes. I really wish I had your style.”

  Bingo. My second lie of the night hit its target and Willow cracked like an egg. She pawed at my hair. “I know, Destiny. It’s so awful for you with that bushy mane and that chest. I mean, imagine you in this dress? You’d look like a top-heavy carrot head. Tragic. Don’t worry, I’ll take you shopping tomorrow, and we’ll get you a whole new wardrobe.”

  I let Willow prattle on as I watched the others clamor to greet Mark. He took a bottle of vodka without even looking to see who had offered it to him. His glare scanned the crowd until it landed on my face. He raised one eyebrow and stared at me intently. I knew what his look meant. He wanted to know had I forgiven him for flaking on me earlier. I hadn’t, but my body obviously didn’t realize, and I started to make my way around the bonfire, subconsciously drawn to him—the moon to my tide.

  Willow grabbed my wrist and yanked me back in her direction. Her voice was a hiss. “What are you doing, Destiny? I know Mark stood you up this morning. He embarrassed you in from of the whole school. Juno said even the nerds were laughing at you. Everybody knows you two are over. You weren’t even suited in the first place—he’s only dating you to annoy his parents. Cut him free, tomorrow we’ll get you looking pretty so you can find a proper boyfriend, okay?”

  A thousand vicious retorts danced on my tongue, but I kept them imprisoned behind my teeth and took a deep breath. This wasn’t the time to unleash my fury. Willow was an idiot. She couldn’t understand what Mark and I had. She wouldn’t know love if it smacked her in the face.

  Love.

  My mind snagged on that thought like an untuned string on a violin. A hand snaked under my jacket from behind and slithered around my waist. “You look good in leather, Destiny. Bad to the bone. It’s hot.”

  Willow’s tanned skin flushed an angry shade of red as she flounced away from Mark and me. A wave of gratitude washed over me, chased by the sting of irritation. Why was I grateful for a compliment from my own boyfriend? I shoved my hand into my pocket and fingered the plastic stick. Mark slid in front of me and tried to pull me into his arms. I pressed my fist against his chest. “Where were you today, Markus?”

  He ran his finger along my jaw bone and traced my bottom lip with his thumb. “You’re mad at me. Do you know how cute you look when you get angry?” I didn’t move an inch, but the people sitting around the bonfire began to shift uncomfortably and rubbed their arms as if the temperature had dropped. Mark took a step back from me and held his palms out. “Okay, Destiny, I’m sorry. I should have called. My bad. You need to calm down.”

  “I’m calm, Markus Raventhorn. I just want to know where you were. I told you I had something important to talk about, and you left me standing outside the school gates like a loser. Where were you?” By now, everybody had figured out the drop in temperature had nothing to do with the weather. I could sense how badly they wanted to stare at our argument, but they were all too terrified to turn around. Nobody wanted to face the wrath of the Black Witch.

  Mark stared into my eyes and reached for my hands. The sparks were already beginning to burn, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he turned my arms upwards and kissed the inside of my wrists, one after the other. I took a deep breath and the night air began to warm again. Mark pulled me closer. “I should have called, but I just crashed after the party last night. I’m sorry, baby. I love you. You know that. You’re my girl.”

  The energy radiating from his voice was like a drug, I wanted to draw it into my bloodstream, but I was smart enough to know when Mark was hiding something from me. I crossed my arms. Mark shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Listen, babe, whatever people have been saying, it’s bull. You know what these kids are like, everybody chats crap. They’re just crapbags.”

  I squinted at him, and Mark grinned. “It’s my new word. Heard it on a late night movie last night. Best word ever, right?”

  “Who did you go the cinema with?” The question tasted sour on my tongue.

  Mark stared over my shoulder and raked his fingers through his hair. “Nobody, I watched it in bed, it was just one of those Z-list movies that’s on in the middle of the night.”

  A burst of activity from the other side of the bonfire drew Mark’s focus away from me. Willow had stumbled back into the clearing, and she was waving her hands and shouting. Her huge green eyes were bright with the wild light that meant she had found trouble. Mark grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the excitement. Willow looked away from her willing audience as we approached and fixed her gaze on Mark. A nameless flicker of unease ran down my spine. Mark leaned against a towering marble headstone and pulled me under his arm. Everyone fell silent when Mark opened his mouth. Same as always. “What’s going on, Willow? Action?”

  Willow licked her plump lips and pressed her hands against the curve of her waist. “Could be. I found somebody. Here. In the cemetery.”

  I snorted. “No, you didn’t, Willow. It’s almost midnight, in a cemetery, miles from Dublin city center—nobody comes here but us after dark. Ease up on the champagne, girl, you need to preserve those precious brain cells.”

  Mark chuckled, and the rest of the gang followed his lead, laughing like hyenas. Willow’s lips thinned and she shot me a venomous glare. “There
’s a kid beside the tower. Looks our age, but he’s not from the Prep. He’s not Family. He has a spell circle and candles with him. Go see for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

  My stomach dropped as I felt the change in Mark’s posture. His muscles tensed in response to the adrenaline pumping through his veins. This is what Mark lived for, a chance to wreak havoc. The excitement of the hunt. He grinned down at the other boys sitting beside the fire. “What do you reckon, guys? Is he trying to raise Daniel O’Connell’s ghost? Maybe we should let Destiny to help him out with that, eh?”

  “Raise the dead, raise the dead, raise the dead.” The boys jumped to their feet and started stamping their feet. Mark grabbed my waist and hoisted me into the air effortlessly. He joined in with the chanting. “Raise the dead. Raise the dead. Raise dead.”

  “No!” I released a burst of energy, and Mark’s fingers spasmed, releasing me from his hold. The circle of teenagers fell silent, and a warm flush crept over my cheeks. I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m not in the mood. Headache.”

  I could see some of the others exchanging glances, but nobody was brave enough to open their mouth. Except for Willow.

  “Buzzkill much, Destiny?” She flicked her golden waves and thrust the bottle of champagne into my hands. “Here, you need it more than I do. I’m going to the tower to have some fun with the human kid. If you decide not to be a total loser, you’ll know where we’ll be.” She let her gaze linger on Mark as she passed and I felt my fingers reach for the lump of plastic in my pocket. I was pretty sure if I used enough force, I could gouge Willow’s eye out with it. Inflict a decent amount of damage. It had certainly ripped a hole in my life.

  Mark didn’t say a word to me until the others had filed out, but I could feel his anger bristling. I crossed my arms and waited for him to make the first move. We’d played these games often enough for me to know the rules. That’s how we worked. Fire and ice. Mark took a swig from his bottle of neat vodka. “You used your magic on me, Destiny.”