Covetous: An Urban Fantasy Romance (The Marked Mage Chronicles, Book 2)

by Victoria Evers

  “I mean, we can’t say for sure if this is the hex Blaine used on you or not,” Reese tried to assure.

  Blaine’s last words to me before I fled Mystic Harbor hit me like a bullet train. “‘I know you hate me. But you will change your mind, someday.’”

  ***

  Is that why Blaine hadn’t come for me sooner? Because he had to wait for his hex to fully go into effect? If he was here now, did that mean…? How much time did I have left? The grandfather clock chimed at a quarter after six, and I still hadn’t heard a peep from my arch nemesis. Fine by me. What wasn’t so fine: I hadn’t found anything in my entire search of the house. Calling it quits for the time being, I grabbed a can of soda from the fridge and an apple from the counter, heading into the family room. Seeing as how I wasn’t sure how long I’d have to wait in here, I shot Hannah a quick text, asking her if she could cover for me. The last thing I wanted was to worry my aunt, so if I wouldn’t be coming home tonight, I knew it would make her feel better thinking that I was just crashing at Hannah’s place for a sleepover.

  With all my bases covered, I plopped down on the loveseat in the corner, nuzzling up with a fleece blanket and a plush pillow. Despite being psychotic, Blaine did have good taste. The couch was comfy, the blanket was warm, and he had a killer music collection. A record player sat beside me, along with an impressive catalog of vinyls. Putting on Joe Bonamassa’s Dust Bowl, I cracked open my soda can and angled the reading lamp behind my head, trying to let the sounds of “Slow Train” drown out my thoughts.

  Was it really going to happen? Would I really wake up one morning and be evil? Would I suddenly be throwing myself at Blaine? Was I going to become some brainwashed sex slave, convinced that I loved him? My mind involuntarily conjured up an array of disturbing images. Was I really going to become a Princess of Hell?

  Resolute in my decision to stay awake, I picked up the novel resting on the coffee table and started reading, taking in a healthy swig of caffeine to boot. The effort apparently wasn’t enough though, because I couldn’t remember anything that happened after page ten before my eyelids sank shut.

  A wood paneled wall materialized before my very eyes as my insides danced and churned in anxious anticipation. I flinched at the touch, feeling familiar hands graze the skin along my arms. I turned just enough to catch a glimpse behind me of his natural, raven-black mane and gleaming icy eyes in the candlelight. Goose bumps raked across my bare legs from the cold, but every inch of me went flush as Blaine pulled me against him. He swept the hair away from the right side of my neck and tugged down the collar to my linen gown past my shoulders, baring my entire neckline. His lips pressed to the back of my shoulder blade, slowly moving their way up my neck as his hands caressed my waist.

  “I love you,” he whispered tenderly into my ear. His breath cascaded down my jaw, and any apprehension inside me vanished. I angled my head and raked a hand through his tousled mane as our mouths met. His hair was nearly to his shoulders, revealing a natural wave to it that wasn’t noticeable when shorter. He was so beautiful.

  A gasp escaped my lips, inciting a mania within him at the very sound, and that passion enveloped every fiber of my being as his kiss deepened. He whirled me around to face him, simultaneously tearing the shirt off his very frame. Blaine drove me back against the wooden wall, and I outright moaned from the ecstasy his mere taste gave me as his hands dropped down to my thighs.

  Sweeping me up in his arms, he carried me across the unfamiliar room, setting me down on an equally unfamiliar bed. Such unspeakable delight lit up his face, his eyes, as he took in the sight of me. I gripped his shoulders, silently demanding his lips as he lay over me, but Blaine suddenly pulled away. The bright smile decorating his mouth curved into an immodest grin as he slowly eased himself down the bed, down the length of my body.

  “You belong to me now,” he purred, pulling my legs apart to accommodate him. He rested back on his knees, and shivers shot up into my core as he took his time sliding up the skirt of my nightgown over my thighs. I had to bite back the impulse to cry out. Inconceivable pleasure poured into every last inch of my body, feeling his lips bear down on my exposed thigh.

  My entire body jerked, wrenching me right out of my dream and landing me face-first onto the floor as I toppled clear off the couch with a scream. I tried to breathe, but my heart was thundering inside my ribcage so fervently, it seemed to rob my lungs of the required space.

  What the hell was that?

  Recognition hit me harder than the hardwood floor beneath me as I realized that wasn’t the first time I’d dreamt that. The night of my Rite, after Blaine had bitten me. Fighting the demonic fever, I’d fallen unconscious, sharing in the exact same nightmare. Only now, it had gone on for even longer, and had felt even more real.

  Still lightheaded and flushed, I towed myself back up on the couch. It was just then that I noticed the light bulb flicker in the reflection of the mirror across the room, immediately followed by an unexplainable tug from within my chest. It practically threw my unsuspecting frame off the couch again, desperate to pull me towards the front door. Had that been what forced me out of the dream?

  As soon as I entered the foyer, I was yanked to the side window. I immediately spotted Hannah’s Prius rolling up into her driveway across the street. She and Sam climbed out, and to my horror, Hannah started heading towards my house.

  Hadn’t she received my text?

  I yanked out my cell to see “Failed” labeled beneath the message.

  Double crap on a cracker!

  The last thing I needed was to arouse suspicion with my aunt, and lying about where I was sleeping at night definitely looked like a cause for concern. The moment Hannah knocked on my door and asked Jenna where I was, I would officially be screwed. Dialing her number, I cursed under my breath when Sam answered instead.

  “Well, if that ain’t a fine how-do-you-do,” he laughed.

  “Can you give the phone to Hannah?” I pleaded.

  “She’s heading over to your place right now—”

  No kidding! She was already halfway up the driveway, leaving me no choice. I ducked back into the kitchen and slinked out the side entrance. I leapt over the bushes dividing Blaine’s house from mine, scaring the wits out of the poor girl as she came up the walkway to the front door. Hannah shrieked.

  “It’s just me,” I whispered, yanking her over to the side of the house when my aunt’s shadow cast in the front window.

  “What the hell?” Hannah sneered, holding a hand over her thundering heart.

  I explained how I lied and used her as an alibi, but it didn’t seem to clear anything up on her end.

  “You told Jenna that you’d be sleeping across the street, when in reality you’re, what? Lurking in the front bushes?”

  “What? No! I’m staying next…” Oh crap.

  Hannah’s eyes expanded, looking at the house I’d unintentionally motioned to. “You’re staying next door?” She squealed, practically bouncing with delight. “Are you seriously hooking up with the new guy?”

  I buried my face into my hands.

  “Awww, come on now. Don’t be stingy with the details, girl. What are you two doing?”

  “He’s not even home,” I confirmed.

  “He’s what?”

  Yeah, come to think of it, the Angel of Death would’ve been easier to deal with…

  “He just ran out quickly to go…grab some stuff,” I clumsily countered.

  “What? Like more ‘protection’?” She teased. “Did you guys already use up his supply?”

  “I’ll talk to you later,” I sighed. “Just, please, please, don’t say anything to my aunt.”

  “Only if you tell me what he’s wearing.”

  I shook my head.

  “Is he even wearing anything?” She snickered.

  Just as we shared in a laugh, headlights blinded us as a vehicle pulled up into Blaine’s driveway. Without even looking, I knew it wasn’t him. The Cutlass had a very dis
tinct, and much louder, engine. This vehicle only let out a gentle purr as it rolled up to us.

  “That’s not Kat, is it?”

  Hannah and I stepped aside to see a handsome face staring at us from behind the wheel.

  The stranger beamed an irresistible smile as he rolled the window all the way down to get a better look at me. “Indeed it is.”

  “I’m sorry. Do I know you?” I asked. Nothing about him looked remotely familiar, and he most definitely had a face worth committing to memory. His bright porcelain teeth gleamed with boyish mischief, only offset by eyes that appeared nearly black in the limited light. His hair was dark, the sides closely shaved to the scalp while the top was a bit longer, slicked back pompadour-style. The slightly cultivated five o’clock shadow added a rugged quality to the appealing ’50s Americana vibe he radiated to perfection. I would have guessed he was probably a couple years older than me. And though he wasn’t bulky by any means, his black and white leather racing jacket did little to hide the taut muscles of his arms and chest concealed beneath the fabric.

  “Oh, I met you briefly,” he confirmed, “but I doubt you’d remember.” That charming smile did little to wane the chill raking up my spine as I took notice to his hand draped over the top of the steering wheel. And he didn’t miss a beat, winking at me as my eyes snapped back up to meet his. “Blaine has told me so much about you though.”

  My stomach hollowed out.

  “I just swung by to pay him a visit, in fact.”

  “Well, he’s not here right now,” I attested.

  “That much I inferred.” He chuckled, taking another long look up and down my body. “How about I take you for a ride?”

  “What?”

  He just gave me a knowing stare, accompanied by a pirated grin.

  I grabbed Hannah’s arm, taking her with me as I backed away. “No, thank you.”

  “But your friend wants to,” sighed the stranger, looking to Hannah next. “Don’t you?”

  An all too familiar vacancy suddenly washed over her face as Hannah nodded with a dopy smile. “I wanna go for a ride.”

  I continued pulling her away, but she suddenly started batting her hands at me. The harder I tried, the more aggressive she became, nearly pounding her fist into my cheek that I narrowly dodged.

  “Will you stop?” I growled to the stranger as Hannah continued wrestling against me, desperate to reach the vehicle.

  He popped the locks up on the passenger door. “Then get in.”

  I reluctantly nodded, and just like that, he told Hannah to return home. She suddenly shrugged and happily went on with her business, skipping down the driveway back to her own house across the way as if nothing had happened.

  “I can always order her back here,” the driver taunted, seeing me make no effort to join him. “And I have a feeling she’ll be far more cooperative, too.”

  The fact that my Omen rune hadn’t ignited was the only ounce of comfort I could take from the situation. “Where might you be taking me?”

  “To pay your boyfriend a visit.” The stranger stole a look across the street to where Sam and Hannah were still hanging out in her driveway. “Should I invite them instead?”

  That strange tug in my chest continued beckoning me toward the car, clearly wanting me to get in. Against all better judgment, I did. Whatever this stranger was up to, I had a far better chance of defending myself against him than Sam or Hannah ever could. Now I knew why Reese refused to have friends. When you had a supernatural target on your back, everyone you cared about had one too. They’d always be at risk so long as I was in their lives.

  I kept my right foot drawn up as I settled in the passenger seat, ready to snatch out the blade strapped around my ankle.

  Ten minutes into the drive, and all I knew was that we were heading north.

  The stranger finally laughed, breaking the silence that had settled between us. The sudden outburst sent my fingers wrapping around the knife’s handle, prepared to pluck it out at the slightest movement.

  “Anyone ever teach you it’s not polite to stare?” the stranger chuckled.

  It wasn’t like I could help myself. My eyes kept drifting back to the tattooed rune on top of his hand. “You’re a Mage,” I said softly.

  “Well, aren’t you clever. What gave me away?”

  I shot him a dirty look, but the devil in his smile had my body pressed against the passenger door, as if those two extra inches placed between us would make any difference. “How about you keep your own eyes to yourself?” I countered. It wasn’t like subtlety was his strong suit, either. He’d spent the better half of our ride so far staring at me rather than the road.

  “What can I say? I appreciate beauty when I see it,” he simpered. “I like the whole look. You have a Taylor Momsen vibe about you. Very rocker chic. Can you sing as well?”

  “My concerts are limited to the inside of my shower,” I admitted.

  “Well, then I definitely want to see that performance.” I could only imagine what kind of mental image he’d drawn up for himself as his eyes roamed over me again, his blatant immodesty making me cower so close against the passenger door I was practically sitting on the handle.

  “Relax,” he laughed. “I’m not in the habit of messing with someone else’s mate. Especially my brother’s.”

  Wait…

  What?

  Chapter 8

  Addicted

  Blaine had a brother?

  I knew he was the only child in his adopted family back in Mystic Harbor, but I never considered what his real lineage might be. I went from gawking at the man’s runes to studying his face, trying to find a familial resemblance. I wasn’t really seeing it. Blaine’s cheekbones were sharp, high, angular, and his serpentine eyes were so pale they looked like that of a young wolf. His brother’s face was more oval, accompanied by hooded bedroom eyes darker than his hair. The man beside me may have been more rugged, but Blaine was still unquestionably more handsome.

  And I had plenty of time to make further comparisons. A good hour passed before we finally pulled off some remote back road into a gravel parking lot. I honestly wasn’t sure what state we were even in anymore. An inky blue farmhouse rested up ahead where muffled melodies greeted us as we stepped out of the beaming new Cadillac. The stranger gestured for me to follow, and we passed by a few old-fashioned whiskey barrels at the entrance, seeing a sign that read, “Nucky’s Hideaway.”

  “Val!” greeted the hostess as my traveling companion and I approached her at the end of the front hall. Based on the dozens of 1920s jazz photographs lining the walls, it was safe to assume this place was a speakeasy. “How lovely to see you again! Table for two? We’re a bit full tonight, so it’ll be a wait.”

  “That’s alright,” said the stranger—Val. “We’re just here to find someone.”

  The woman nodded with a smile as she motioned us on, but then paused, taking another look at me, at the tattooed band wrapped around my left ring finger. “You’re…? Oh, well now...” The hostess took her time admiring me from head to toe. “Aren’t you just delicious.”

  She bared her teeth, revealing pointed canines as her eyes flashed a golden yellow.

  Hellhound.

  “Ah…thank you,” I muttered, my nerves clearly getting the better of me.

  Val chuckled, wrapping his arm around me as he guided me into the bar. “Don’t mind her. It’s just that your reputation precedes you with a few folks of the demonic persuasion.”

  “Reputation?”

  “You know. You and my brother, a.k.a. Hell’s cutest couple,” he affirmed.

  I attempted a smile, but it was shaky at best before I suddenly gasped, pinching my eyes shut as I instinctively covered my lips. The tantalizing sweet scent hit me hard, compelling my fangs to jut out from the roof of my mouth. This very reason was why I refused to attend high school parties anymore. Hormones and alcohol were a surefire combination of lustful behavior. But even the most sexed-up high school rave couldn’t
compete with this place. The overwhelming scent left my body buzzing with a high I could only imagine cocaine addicts would understand.

  “Hey.” Fingers brushed my chin, forcing my head up. “Open your eyes.”

  “I can’t,” I murmured.

  Val let out a low laugh. “Open your eyes.”

  “I. Can’t.” I couldn’t risk a crowded lounge seeing my eyes like this.

  To my complete and utter horror, Val ripped my hand away from my lips. With my fangs completely jutted out, I couldn’t close my mouth, leaving the pointed incisors on full display for anyone to see.

  “What are you doing?” I shrieked, forcing my eyes open. I’d been prepared to bolt for the door, but the sight in front of me glued me in place.

  Val’s towering frame lingered right above me, his eyes as red as blood and his fangs as sharp as razor blades. “Look around.”

  Still petrified to be seen like this—like a monster—I stole a quick glance at the other patrons. Wait…

  All their eyes were completely black or glowing yellow. Every last person in here. They were all either demons or hellhounds.

  Val smiled. “This is the one place where our kind never has to hide our true nature.”

  And he was right. People glanced at us, with our fangs and red eyes on display, and they all simply nodded or smiled.

  “Freeing, isn’t it?” Val purred into my ear. “We put wards up all around the joint, making it impossible for anyone who isn’t demonic to find this place. No humans, angels, or Reapers allowed.” I sighed, only inciting his smile to grow. “It’s a shame my brother didn’t take you here sooner. Seems you could’ve used it.”

  This felt…amazing.

  I’d spent how much time trying to rein myself in, to not allow myself a slipup. And yet here I was, in full exposure to everyone, and nobody cared. Nobody was scared. Nobody was running away, screaming, “freak!” Nobody had a gun aimed at my chest. Nobody judged me.

  And the ugly truth that I needed to be in a room surrounded by Hell’s Finest in order to feel normal quickly killed my buzz.