Black Magic (Raven Queen's Harem Part Three) (The Raven Queen's Harem Book 3)

by Angel Lawson

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter One

  The smell of antiseptic assaults my nose the instant we step into the hospital. The nurse spots us before we get to the desk. There is no wait and Sam and I are ushered quickly through a swinging door and down a long hallway. A police officer stands in the hallway. I feel the tightening squeeze of Sam’s hand against mine as the officer steps aside, opening the door.

  “Thank you,” I say, looking up at the officer’s face. He stares straight ahead, making no eye contact.

  As we step through the door, Sam whispers in my ear, “You’ve got this.”

  The room is small, with a glass window separating a larger, secured room with a patient lying in a hospital bed. Xavier.

  Anita, my academic partner and Xavier’s sister, stands at the window, eyes focused on her brother. I’m not sure she’s even aware we came in until she breaks the silence without warning. “They say they don’t know what it is.” She turns and glares at me. “What’s killing him. It’s some weird virus they’ve never seen.”

  “They told me,” I say. I’d been tested, prodded and poked for six hours the day before. My blood came back clean. I had none of the mysterious illness that was ravaging Xavier’s body.

  Neither did Anita.

  Anita told the doctors that I’d been with her brother just before he fell ill. That we’d kissed and it was likely I had either passed the infection on to him or he gave it to me.

  I adamantly explained that this was untrue. We never kissed. We’d merely spoken in the alley. I’d gone home early. If Xavier ever said differently, then he was confused. Hallucinating. I mean, it’s not as though he could literally become sick in minutes, could he?

  The lies came easily. I’d like to blame the Morrigan for how quickly I adjusted to covering up her carnage, but I know better. The lies belong to me and me alone.

  Once cleared, I decided to go visit Xavier. It seemed the right thing to do. Sam came with me for support and I suspect a little bit of protection. Protecting me from someone or protecting someone from me, that’s the real question I have. Are the Guardians afraid of me? Clinton surely wasn’t when we were in bed together. Sam’s gentle touches don’t express fear.

  Anita looks back at the window, through the glass at her brother. Xavier doesn’t look good and it’s difficult to see him like this. The last time I saw him, when we did kiss, he was very handsome. Animated and full of life—lust even. The infection ravages his body from the inside out. He’s pale but feverish, a slick sweat clinging to his face. Splotchy gray marks blemish his arms and neck. He looks one step away from being a corpse and I realize with sudden clarity that it’s not the only time I’ve seen someone looking like this.

  The gray sky parts and Maverick runs from the forest back into the safety of her yard. The cat is gone. The prince is dead. Her ravens flew to the sky, never to be seen again. The cold crept through the gateway and she ran. She’d never run so hard—so fast. Until she saw the grassy yard, the little swing, the blanket stretched over the grass with a book on top.

  The sun beat down here—but the chill lingered and quickly the warm light vanished, like a front had pushed through. Maverick grabbed her book and blanket and raced into the house like a mouse with a cat on his tail. She bursts through the back door, the knob crashing into the wall behind it. The girl freezes, waiting for the sound of her mother’s reprimand. For her father’s annoyance. But nothing came.

  Dread fills her heart.

  She drops her book and her blanket. She walks up the small flight of stairs.

  “Mom?”

  Silence.

  “Dad?”

  The air feels frozen as she walks down the hall. The door is open. She spots her father’s shoes first. Then her mother’s hair—wild like her own—twisted beneath her cheek.

  They look—

  “Morgan?” Sam’s voice brings me back to the hospital room. Anita glares at me with a heavy dose of bitterness.

  “Sorry.” It’s the only thing I can say and even then my voice is shaky and quiet. “I’m sorry, Anita. I truly hope he gets better. Call me if you need something.” I turn quickly, unable to look at his body, unable to look at Xavier one second longer. It’s weak. I’m weak. But we know that. It’s why we’re here. The Morrigan overpowered me. She took a life to feed her desperate, awful soul.

  Sam follows me back past the officer, down the hall, through the waiting room and into the street. It’s hot and muggy out here but it’s preferable to the cold resting in my heart. I haven’t gone two feet away from the entrance before Sam grabs my arm and stops me.

  “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

  I look at this man. So handsome. So kind. Fierce just like the others. He’d do anything for me. I see it in the depths of his blue eyes.

  “No, I’m not okay.”

  “Tell me what’s going on then. What happened back there?”

  “I’ve made a decision.” He raises his eyebrows, encouraging me to continue. “The Morrigan doesn’t own me. She doesn’t get to take away the good and torment the living. I’m not willing to be her puppet anymore.”

  A crease mars Sam’s perfect forehead and he says, “We just have to keep working to control her. Help you get stronger. You’ll have to pick your mate.”

  “I’ll do that too but I found something, Sam. A book in the library. I think if we use the information correctly we can stop her for good.”

  He looks at me like I’m crazy. “How are we going to do that?”

  “We’re going to kill the Morrigan.”

  Chapter Two

  Morgan

  I ask Sam to gather the other guardians and have them meet me in the library in an hour. I’d found the book the day Xavier got sick. It was just hours after I lost my virginity to Clinton and found myself under increasing pressure to pick a mate from the five men in the house.

  I know I’m not ready for that. As awkward and selfish as it sounds, I like them all. Each feels like a piece of the puzzle I’ve been missing in my life. Every time they push or suggest I make a decision, any ability to do so slips from my grasp. They would say it’s the Morrigan trying to keep me weak, but increasingly I feel it’s more than that. Much more.

  Sleeping with Clinton is the primary reason for my view. I’d held off for so long—afraid of something—but when we made love it’s like the world crumbled and not only did I want him with me at the end, I wanted the same experience with the others too. I want to feel their bodies on top of me, naked and hot. I want to feel them inside of me, come in me.

  Now that I understand, I’m less willing to concede to just one until I’ve had a taste of them all.

  Sam with his kindness and understanding—supporting me unconditionally—he’s helped me find th
e “me” in a battle against ancient evil. He’s sweet and sexy. Mischievous under that adorable, handsome grin.

  Bunny guides me spiritually—grounding me to this place and to the powers I carry. He shores up my soul and finds the strength deep inside to keep me going. I long to run my fingers through his hair, feel his hips against mine.

  Clinton, my trainer, keeps me fit and ready for the physical war headed our way. He pushes me. Tests me.

  Damien provides my weaponry and outfits me with charms and symbols designed to keep me safe. He’s quiet and likes his independence—his solitary space out back behind the house. But when we’re together I feel the magic of our bond.

  And then there’s Dylan. My sentinel. He carries the knowledge of the past and he has an eye on me—always. He’s afraid of his own strength and together we’re breaking one another down. His passion knows no limits. And I’m here to tempt as well as test him.

  I remove the ancient book from under my bed. I’d hidden it, wanting some time to study it in private. The gold image of the Morrigan on the cover, embossed with five ravens in various states of flight, sings to me when I touch the peeling leather spine.

  The pages are filled with drawings and short stories—an odd historical account of the Morrigan’s mythology. They come from various stages in her life. Before she went mad with rage, when she was just a young goddess wanting to find her true love. There are alternate stories, including the tale of the Morrigan being split into three. Sisters. An old woman. No story is the same, although they all carry similar themes. War. Love. Betrayal.

  It’s fascinating and I’ve neglected my work to study them.

  The raven’s stories are my favorites. The book is littered with little snippets of their lives. I try to connect the mythology to my housemates but it seems too fanciful. Too made up. I’m not convinced anything in the book is real, but tucked in the final pages is a spell that catches my eye and after two days of dreaming about it, seeing Xavier has made me want to believe it can be done.

  Killing the Morrigan.

  The concepts are tricky, it involves splitting her soul from mine and then destroying her, but with the help of the Guardians (who are skilled in the magical arts) I think it’s possible. And really, it may be our only chance.

  I grab the book and head for the door. The others should be assembled by now. I cross my fingers and prepare to tell them my plan.

  Chapter Three

  Dylan

  “Absolutely not.”

  “No fucking way.”

  “I can’t, Morgan. I just can’t.”

  “Sorry, sweetheart.”

  Clinton does nothing more than cross his arms over his chest and shake his head once.

  Morgan, who holds a book I’m not familiar with in her hands, narrows her eyes and looks…pissed?

  “Morgan, there is absolutely no way we’re performing magic like this with or much less on you,” I finally say.

  “Why not?”

  “Why?” I take the book from her and study it for a moment. “Because I’ve never even seen this text before, but on first glance it looks like this magic is dark. Darker than what any of us are comfortable using. And if it doesn’t work you’ll be the one that’s dead.”

  “I’d rather be dead, Dylan, than hurt someone again. Do you understand that? I won’t be responsible for any more deaths!”

  “He’s not dead,” Sam says, but Morgan shoots him a glare.

  “He will be soon. We both know it. We all know it,” she spats. “I’m not living like this. I don’t want to be a conduit for death. Not anymore.”

  “I don’t even see how that’s an option,” Damien says. “Do you plan on kissing a lot of guys? Outside of this house, I mean?”

  “It can happen anywhere,” Morgan cries. “And don’t judge me on kissing Xavier. That’s the whole point. I didn’t have control. She’s stronger than me!”

  Clinton stands and approaches Morgan, who is standing near the back windows. He touches her cheek and says, “It’s too dangerous.”

  She sighs. “Can we at least think about it? Have it as a backup?”

  Bunny walks over and peers over my shoulder, flipping the pages of the book. He runs his fingers down a long list. “The ingredients look complicated. It may take months to find them.”

  I snap the book shut, nearly taking off Bunny’s finger. I glance at him apologetically. “It’s off the table.”

  “Why do you get to make that decision?” Morgan asks. Her voice carries a different edge. “Did someone put you in charge here and not tell me about it?”

  I open my mouth to speak but think better of it. I rest the book on the table and slide it to the middle. Morgan watches with interest and then assesses the others. They too are silent until Bunny steps forward. I fight an eyeroll. He’s always first to cave.

  “We can collect the ingredients,” he says. “We can store them in the basement with a stipulation that we do nothing unless we all come to an agreement.” He looks at Morgan as he emphasizes the word ‘all’. “Like I said before, it may take a while to gather them all, if we even can.”

  I fight an outburst. I rest my hands on the back of an armchair, bracing myself. “Morgan already has obligations. She has her training. Her studying. Her book to write for the University—which is still a priority. She has to pick a mate. That is paramount. Every dely. each distraction is just falling into the Morrigan’s hands.” I hold her gaze. “Do you realize that this sort of endeavor is exactly what she wants?”

  “Then she’ll get it,” she declares, unwavering. “I’ll work with each of you to gather the supplies needed to complete the spell. I’ll also use that time to get to know each of you a little better—fulfilling my promise to select a mate quickly.”

  After a beat, Clinton speaks up.

  “I think that’s acceptable.” He looks at me to challenge him. But I’ve said my peace. I do nothing but shrug. The Queen has made it clear she doesn’t want my opinion. Damien picks up the book. “I’ll divide these out into our specialties. Sam, you make a schedule, okay?”

  Sam nods and Morgan smiles. Everyone seems to be in agreement but me.

  I leave the room first—as always—and contemplate that it’s just another day at The Nead.

  Chapter Four

  Morgan

  A schedule is set by dinner and much to Dylan’s obvious dismay, lessons and training will be on hold—other than what I learn on my outings to procure the spell ingredients.

  Damien and I agree to meet at ten the next morning and at quarter ‘til, I’m looking for an appropriate outfit to wear to a ’magic shop’ when my phone rings.

  It’s Professor Christensen.

  I haven’t spoken to him since Xavier fell ill but I have no doubt he’s been in contact with Anita. Ironically, he’s the one that tipped me off to the type of underground club that the guardians were performing in—the one that we were at when Xavier got caught up in the Morrigan’s Darkness.

  “Hello,” I say, looking for my black jeans. That seems appropriate for a magic shop, right?

  “Morgan! I’m so glad I caught you. Is this a good time?”

  No, I want to tell him, but he’s my graduate advisor and I can’t do that. “I have a few minutes.”

  “Good, good. Well, I’m aware that you’ve been told of Anita’s family circumstances.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ve been to see her.”

  “Excellent. It’s always good to support a fellow student and colleague during a time of need.” He coughs away from the phone. “Anita has requested a leave of absence for the remainder of the semester. Obviously we granted it. She’s the only family nearby to take care of her sibling. We want to give her as much time as she needs.”

  “That’s very considerate of you, sir.” With the phone in the crook of my neck and shoulder, I tug my pants over my hips. “How should I proceed?”

  “I considered giving you a new partner but really I think it may be best for you to work indep
endently for now. Hopefully Anita can return after a short break and you can get back on track. I’d love for you to consider spending a little bit of your former critique time visiting with her.”

  I doubt that’s what Anita wants. I got the explicit feeling she blamed me, rightly so, for Xavier’s illness. But that’s between the two of us, no need to involve the professor, who, frankly, is already nosy enough. “I’ll do that. Thank you for taking the time out of your day to let me know all this.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll still expect weekly updates on your progress and I’ll have my secretary make an appointment for our next review.”

  “Sounds great.” I grit my teeth and pull my boot on over my heel. “Talk to you soon!”

  I hang up before he can say more.

  Taking one last look in the mirror I assess my outfit. Black jeans with a tie instead of buttons or a zipper, black tank with thin straps at the shoulder. My bra criss-crosses dramatically over my back. My boots are also black leather, with thick, chunky heels. I grab my bag and head to the door, thinking how I have no idea what I’m getting into but at least I look like a badass.

  *

  Damien meets me in the foyer. He’s wearing dark jeans and a tight, gray T-shirt covered with a black, leather vest. The tattoos that mark his biceps peek from under his sleeves just like the ones at his collar. The hoops in his ears glint from the chandelier. When he walks toward me his heavy boots echo off the marble floors, and he looks me up and down appraisingly.

  “I see you got the memo about what to wear.”

  “You sent me a memo?” I blink dumbly. He raises his eyebrows and it clicks that he’s joking. “Duh. Yeah, I didn’t know what to wear to go to a magic shop.”

  “I don’t think there are any formal requirements, but you nailed it anyway.” He offers me his hand. “Got everything?”

  “Yeah. Are we taking a cab?”

  He smiles and directs me down the hallway, away from the kitchen. “No. I’ve got my own transportation.”

  The Nead is full of wonders. I know that. The historic mansion has a rooftop garden, a magnificent porch, and a lush yard. Add that to the various studios and suites we live in, the dining room with its historically accurate mural, and the vast library. There’s a training room and gym in the basement as well as other doors that lead to rooms I haven’t been in yet. I didn’t even know the hallway Damien takes me down existed. But soon enough we’re going down a new flight of stairs and at the bottom he opens a basic door and flips on a row of lights.