Just A Little Wicked: A Limited Edition Collection of Magical Paranormal and Urban Fantasy Tales

by Lily Luchesi

  Raphael stares out at the road. First at the one spot with scorch marks. Then at the other with ice burns. “What are you talking about?”

  “Do we have a m-m-mu—a multiple user among us again?” An older woman inquires.

  “We don’t need that kind of unreliable, dangerous person in this coven.”

  “Just get rid of them now.”

  “Only true practitioners.”

  The six are vocal. I’ll give them that. Some stragglers who had begun strolling away turn around. They watch. They listen.

  How easily the few can turn into the many. They might not have all the facts, but they have no problem voicing their opinions.

  By now Raphael has begun walking around the sections. Studying. Trying to capture similar markings. Magic users have a signature in their work. He won’t find what he seeks.

  I made sure of it.

  Joining him, I stop and cock my head. Appear confused. “What are they talking about?”

  Raphael finishes his analysis before turning to regard me. “Nothing they can prove.”

  He then fixes on Thomas. I guess he’s the ringleader. The one to watch. “Two people took out these vehicles, Thomas. Salem was gifted with ice, which she used today. And a fire user—”

  “That would be me,” I pipe in politely. “I assisted Salem and helped save her life.” There are scorch marks on my jeans and shirt sleeves. Thomas scrutinizes every inch of surface his old eyes can detect, faltering slightly when he notes the blood on my shirt.

  The number of stares levelled at me from this group should be unnerving. Not for me.

  I didn’t do anything, yet I’m already labeled a person of interest. Guilt by association.

  Bored, the others take off. The originals remain, taking a stand.

  Time for mine.

  Never shifting my focus, I cruise right up to them. Give them time to memorize my face and body. Let them know I do not fear them.

  They’ve huddle together. Thomas remains in front. “I guess I can assume you folks are the ones responsible for driving my mother away from the coven?” I let my words sink in. “You heard her name. Catalina Novak.”

  Some drop their view towards the ground. Only the one in front and the woman behind him don’t blink. She could be his wife. Raphael keeps quiet for now. Like a true politician.

  Just like my father.

  “Why’d you come back?” Thomas asks.

  “That’s simple. I wanted to reclaim my roots and spend time with the young lady I will marry.”

  He gulps. “You anything like your mother?”

  What a loaded question. I smile. “Yes, I am like my mom. And my father. My grandparents and others before them. Don’t we all take parts of our loved ones?”

  The woman steps up, places her hand on Thomas’s arm. “We don’t want trouble. We just don’t want any mongrels living here. We have families and friends to protect.”

  I begin to pace in front of them, hands in my pockets. The cold is beginning to affect me after the adrenaline died out. I lost my jacket when I ripped it off to use my power.

  “I want you all to know I came here in peace. Anyone who threatens my peace or that of the Corbett’s or any of my friends, will have to deal with the Grand Council and the Dryden Group.” I stop in front of Thomas and reach out my hand. The fingertips are burned. Summoning fire isn’t an exact science. I’m still learning how to use my power.

  Surprisingly, he steps down onto the road and shakes my hand. His grip strong.

  Raphael joins me. “Enjoy the rest of your day. Hope to see you at the events this week.”

  The members mumble their goodbyes and go off.

  “The crew is going to clean the street now. Do you have a place to stay?” he asks as we both step onto the sidewalk.

  My car remains in the Meeting House lot. As for my mother’s house, it isn’t ready for anyone to live in it yet, and I’m not really looking forward to being around the ghost of her memories. “I’m fine. Thank you. Head Leader?”

  Raphael takes a business card from his wallet and gives it to me. “If you need me, don’t hesitate to call.”

  “Thanks.” I take it and pocket it as I watch him leave.

  Now that I’m here I need to establish a home base before I set out my nets. My phone buzzes. The message on the screen is from Remy. A medical center address.

  I’m on my way, Salem.

  Chapter Six

  Salem

  Every weekday morning begins the same way. Get up, get dressed, do hair and make-up. Met Quinn before class. The red plaid A-line skirt looks cute when paired with the matching tie and white button-down shirt. What completes the ensemble is the black blazer and simple Mary Janes.

  This is Waylandale Academy, a school for witches, warlocks and mages.

  Grabbing my bag with supplies, I lock the door to my single room. The space is about the same as what I had at home. Eight weeks have passed since the accident. The doctor says I’m fine.

  I head for the stairs and at the end of the hall an arm reaches out from a doorway. It clasps my wrist. “Good morning, Princess.”

  My heart skips a beat each day that I raise my face and wait. Quinn chuckles. “So spoiled.” First, he kisses one cheek, then the other, and finally he ends with a longer kiss on my lips.

  “Good morning to you, too.”

  He winks. I knew he’d be attractive and cool in his uniform black pants, white Oxford shirt, and red sleeveless sweater. A mix of classic and new. He transferred from his school to mine to be near me. We walk down to the first floor together and head over to the underground tunnel entrance.

  All around campus and in the various buildings, everyone knows us now. They wave or give us a greeting. No one is mean or starts any trouble.

  In the cafeteria, we walk to the station offering the type of food we like and order it. Since it snowed last night, I grab a bowl of steel-cut oats with blueberries and chia seeds. Quinn makes a face before settling for pancakes.

  We eat together at a small table in a corner overlooking the greenhouse.

  “Are you ready for spell casting?” he asks, his plate empty.

  “Yes. I’m having a problem with transferring a book into a stone. I made lots of tiny pebbles yesterday. Professor Jarve didn’t think it was funny.”

  Quinn bursts out laughing. “Trust me, it’s hilarious. Sorry I missed it.”

  “I do trust you.” I twist my spoon in the remaining oats. “Even if I don’t have memories of the accident, I know you did something great. You helped save my life. Thank you.”

  He’s become serious. “I will always help you, Salem. Let’s go.” Quinn just gets up, about to leave his stuff behind. When I hesitate, he gives me a pained look. “Your helping ways will be rewarded someday.”

  After he drops the tray with our things on it at the station, he takes my hand and walks me to my class. At the door, he kisses my hand. “See you at lunch, Princess.”

  Kittie sits next to me. She stops in the doorway and watches Quinn walk away. “Are you sure he doesn’t have a brother?”

  I shrug. “They’re all accounted for.” That’s what he told me. We head in, comparing notes on the homework assignment.

  My morning is spent with classes on Spell casting, History, and Scrying Fundamentals. My dad was right when he told me he’d provided the foundation of my education at home. I don’t feel behind these students. Getting great grades is a plus.

  The minute I enter the cafeteria I know something is wrong. Quinn’s scowl could start a fire he’s that close to lobbing a fireball at someone. Remy is in my seat. They look as if they’re waiting for someone.

  “What’s up?” I ask them. Remy offers a sad smile. Quinn won’t look at me.

  “Got it.” Lola comes up behind me, flashing her cell phone. Students aren’t supposed to carry electronic devices, but that doesn’t stop her. All she does is mention she’s friends with the Dryden boy.

  Lola crouches down in front
of us, a video frozen on her screen. The scene seems familiar. “Ready?”

  We nod and she presses the screen. There’s a road. It takes a few seconds for me to recognize it. “Blackwater? The main road?”

  Quinn makes a funny sound in his throat. I hold his hand. On the screen I appear running across the street and slip. Quickly, I look away. That’s not something I want to relive, When Quinn squeezes my fingers, I force myself to keep watching. And I do, up until the part where I shot fireballs from one hand and then direct a line of ice from my other palm to stop a moving car. “That’s not real!”

  “Relax, Salem. It’s obviously Photoshopped,” Quinn quips.

  Remy is silent. Lila shuts her phone off.

  “Great. Who would do that? Alter a video of me that way? Everyone knows Quinn used fire. I had already sustained a concussion.”

  “Has this gone viral?” Remy asks.

  Lola doesn’t immediately answer. But from the spreading silence inside the cafeteria, the way so many heads are down, obviously looking at something they’re not supposed to have, we have our answer.

  Remy takes her phone and re-watches the video. I can hear the gears cranking in his head. He’s up to something. Quinn gives me a sideways hug. “Don’t sweat it, Salem.”

  I shake my head at him. “One of the adults is going to wind up seeing that video. Then they’ll talk and call me down to the office.”

  The bell rings for next period. We all stand up.

  Lola apologizes. “I thought you should know.”

  Quinn thanks her.

  Remy rubs my shoulder. “I’ll look into it more.”

  Outside of the library where I decided to go for my free period, Quinn cups the side of my face. “If anything comes from this, I’m going to be right beside you.”

  “Thanks.” He leaves me with a quick kiss. The nice part of him being the Dryden boy is no teacher tells him to cut out the affectionate displays.

  Not many students use the library for free period. That’s why I go there. It’s quiet and I can get a jump on reading assignments for the next week. Halfway through the time allotted, a shadow covers the book I have open.

  “Miss Corbett, Headmaster Yeraw wants you in his office.”

  I only met his once, during the tour. That stupid video must have made the rounds. It takes me thirteen minutes to make it to the main building. His secretary has me wait outside of his office. My knees keep clipping each other the longer I remain on the bench. A few minutes pass by. The next period late bell sounds.

  Two men that are either twins or clones approach me wearing identical green suits. They’re both very thin with white hair and strangely shaped silver and yellow eyes. Walking in unison, they stand in front of me. The one on the left says, “Salem Corbett?”

  I swallow loud enough for them to hear it. For a second, I want to deny it, but we had our picture taken for I.D. cards the day we arrived. “Yes.”

  The two lean forward, produce gold bands they snap onto my wrists and close with the flick of their thumbs.

  The one on my right states, “Waylandale Academy is taking you into their sole possession until the Grand Council sends their convoys to retrieve you. Miss Corbett, you are under arrest for breaking law PSM4 suspicion of individual exhibiting maverick tendencies. You’re a wicked girl.”

  “W-what?” I try to laugh but it ends up sounding strangled. “Did you see the video? It was obviously digitally altered.”

  Each latch onto my forearm and drags me onto my feet. I try to reach for my bag and they exert more pressure to stop me. As they escort me, the secretary retrieves my belongings. Grateful the hallway is empty; I turn to catch one last glimpse. The headmaster has exited his office and proceeds to go through my bag, spilling its contents onto her desk.

  For the first time since coming here, I wish I was back in human school.

  * * *

  For years I wanted to be a Waylandale student. Wear the uniform. Take the classes. Learn from their teachers. Become a productive witch in our world. Make my parents proud.

  After they bound any power I had, dragged me to a secret location where they shoved me into a drafty, dark, holding room, stripped me of my uniform, searched me, forced me to wear ugly brown coveralls, and left bottled water and an apple as a meal, I wouldn’t remain here if they paid me.

  By the third day of being in this depressing place, I suspect a bunch of things about my captors. My parents probably think I’m still a regular student. These bracelets are making me sick. Something is leeching out of them into my skin. And I barely sip the water. It’s drugged. The first bottle I drank made me sleep for a whole day.

  No one has come to see me or bothered to explain what to expect. They’ve discarded me like a bag of garbage. When the light changes outside the one window, I wrap myself in the threadbare blanket I found in here. Then I allow the tears to come. Who will hear me?

  I don’t know how long I slept. I awaken to sound. Ping! Ping! It’s coming from the window. I kneel before it, trying to see into the dead of night. Something smacks against it.

  Covering my mouth to muffle my shriek, I curl into the fetal position. How I miss my parents. My home.

  “Salem?”

  I stir. Am I hearing things?

  “Salem? Can you hear me, Princess?” His voice is by the window.

  I scoot over to the dirty glass, fingers pressing on the hard surface as if I can soften it with my touch. “Quinn?”

  He sighs so loudly. “Oh, thank the Goddess. These bastards wouldn’t tell me where they’d taken you. Are you all right?”

  Happy tears mix with ones of despair. “I can’t stay here. It’s disgusting. Can you get me out?”

  “Yeah. Well, I’m gonna damn well try. But I have to wait until tomorrow night. The place isn’t crawling with security once classes end. Is that okay? It’s going to be light soon and I can’t travel the campus during the day. I don’t trust anyone.”

  I wipe my face. “Okay.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Quinn, don’t cry. I trust you. Of course.”

  “Good.” He laughs a little. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too. I’ll wait for you.” The darkness starts to lighten.

  “I’ve got to leave you. I will be back. I love you.”

  There’s a slight vibration through the glass. Had he smacked it? “I love you,” I croak.

  Another vibration. “It took you getting arrested to say that?”

  I roll my eyes. “Quinn, please hurry.”

  Silence. The shadows are now a deep blue. He’s gone.

  Boom! Boom! Boom! The glass shakes but holds. He’s kicking it? “Quinn? The light. Morning is coming.” Security and their dogs arrive at first light.

  He curses. “See you tonight, Princess. I’ll let your father know where you’re being held. When you’re out, can you wear that gown again? We’ll go dancing.”

  Giggles bubble up like a geyser. “We’ll do anything you want. Bye.”

  I remain far away from the window all day, afraid I’ll jinx my chances of escape.

  As soon as I see Quinn, I have to tell him the truth and hope he forgives me.

  I dream we go dancing on clouds and toadstools and on puddles of rainwater.

  If I’m his Princess, Quinn must be my Prince.

  Tonight, my Prince is coming for me.

  Epilogue

  Salem

  Covens are these perfect societies that offer their members everything they need in order to thrive and be safe.

  They all share a secret.

  These utopias are all about purity.

  Anything out of the ordinary, perhaps even a touch wicked, is not allowed.

  Hybrids do not exist.

  And if they do, one never hears about them.

  It took me seventeen years to learn about it.

  This is the beginning of my story.

  To be continued

  About the Author

  Laurie T
reacy grew up in NYC and currently resides in the beautiful mid-Hudson Valley with her family. Living in an area steeped in supernatural lore and legends certainly inspires this author of YA and NA fantasy, urban fantasy, paranormal & contemporary romance. Laurie enjoys urban exploring and photographing forgotten places. A proud Whovian and Studio Ghibli fangirl, she loves playing video games and binging K-dramas.

  Laurie's a member of Romance Writers of America (RWA), and their chapters for Young Adult writers (YARWA) and Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal writers (FF&P).

  Find her online at http://www.laurietreacy.com

  Website & Newsletter Signup: http://www.laurietreacy.com

  Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/author.laurie.treacy/

  Twitter: @llt806

  Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lltreacy/

  CROOKED CROWN

  A Fire Kingdom Novella

  Angela Kulig

  Crooked Crown

  For fire, for Kingdom, for glory.

  Princess Cassandra of the Fire Kingdom is known for her bloodlust as much as her beauty. Not one to wait at home, Cassie wages war as part of Flame Bringer army. When the world erupts around her the princess finds herself in a very different kind of story. Something darker, something tragic.

  When you are used to burning everything around you, it’s only a matter of time until there is nothing left.

  Chapter 1

  The war had already been won. We knew it, and so did the hardened soldiers of the Water Kingdom as they stood between us and our prize.

  Rains struck with the wind like a razor’s edge, but even the clouds would come no closer to the Flame Bringer Army. Three hundred of our best men stood at my back like a readied whip, tipped with iron, and wicked deadly. Not that we even needed them. Prince Camden Chauncey, my cousin, sat atop his ash-colored mount, serious as the trouble he was about to cause for our enemies. My own black beast whinnied softly at the damp earth. Power raced through me like a second pulse, but I was its master, not the other way around.