Wicked Creatures Read online

  Wicked Creatures

  Cursed Coven Book Four

  Dyan Chick

  Illaria Publishing

  Copyright © 2019 by Dyan Chick

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Welcome

  Welcome to the magical world of the Midnight Coven. Within the pages of our books, you’ll find vampires and demons, witches and fae, dark magic and happily ever afters. Each Midnight Coven book is a romance novella featuring characters who occasionally cross over from book to book, so we hope you’ll read them all. You just never know when your favorite character might show up again.

  Your initiation begins now…

  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

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Sneak Peek: Wicked Omens

  Chapter One

  Marcos

  She smelled like lemons and rosemary. I breathed her in as I brushed my lips against her neck.

  “Marcos,” she exhaled my name like a prayer.

  I couldn’t remember hers, so I quickly pressed my lips to hers, silencing her. She returned the kiss with an excited passion that surprised me. I pressed my mouth into hers harder. Her tongue flicked against my lower lip and I pulled away slightly so I could pull her lip into my mouth. She moaned as I sucked.

  With practiced hands, I slid my fingers under the straps of her dress and slipped it down to her hips. She wiggled until it slid to the ground forming a puddle around her ankles.

  One at a time, she kicked off her heels until she was standing in front of me in matching black lace panties and bra. She wanted this as much as I did.

  I had a talent for picking out the girls who were looking for the same thing as me. A meaningless one-night stand.

  There was nothing wrong with sex. We all needed release. And my therapist said it was good stress relief. Of course, when he told me I was using sex as an escape from reality, I quit seeing him. What the fuck did he know about my life?

  A soft purr rose up from her. Oh god, how I loved fucking shifters. They were wild in the bedroom.

  Quickly, I pulled off my shirt and dropped my pants. Then I lunged toward her and she squealed, running toward the bedroom. She jumped on the bed and I leaped on top of her, pinning her down.

  She nipped at my shoulder, nearly drawing blood. Baring my teeth, I pinned her down and straddled her.

  Her breasts heaved and I could feel her temperature rising. Holding both of her wrists with one hand, I used my free hand to push her bra up, exposing her gorgeous tits.

  The ceiling fan above us set a cool breeze flowing through the room, making her nipples stand and sending a wave of goosebumps across her stomach.

  I let go of her wrists and sank down, taking each nipple in my mouth while my hands moved lower. She arched her back, lifting her hips and I tugged the lace panties off.

  Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed and horns honked. The paper-thin walls of my old apartment didn’t give us much protection from the sounds of the city below. And New Orleans came alive at night.

  Just like us, the city was a creature of darkness. It seemed to breathe to life after sunset, becoming a different world. When the sun rose, we’d slip into routine and daily life. But at night, we were wild. The creatures we were meant to be.

  With a growl, I lowered my head to the mound of soft hair between her legs. Keeping her thighs open with my hands, I kissed and licked the delicate nub. Her breathing turned desperate as she started to moan. As her hips bucked, and her moans turned to cries, I added my fingers and a rush of wetness covered the sheets.

  With a smirk, I repositioned myself so I was resting between her thighs. Quickly, I tore open the plastic package and prepared myself.

  She watched with hooded eyes, beads of sweat on her brow and chest. “Fuck me, Marcos.”

  I smirked. We were just getting started. In a single thrust, I entered her.

  It was already getting hot. I threw the covers off and glanced toward the clock. I’d slept past noon. My new friend had kept me up most of the night. I glanced over to see her sleeping naked on the other side of my bed. She’d tossed the covers aside too. Despite the fact that it was fall, it was still hot every day. These were the days I missed living on the east coast. Though I had to admit the lack of snow was a good exchange.

  Quietly, I stood and stretched, twisting to work out all the kinks. My nameless one-night stand had been a wild one in the bed. Though I never officially asked her what kind of shifter she was, I had a feeling she was a panther. They were usually willing to go the extra mile in the bedroom.

  I wondered how long she’d be out before she woke. Goodbyes could get awkward. Sunlight poured over the wood floors as dust motes danced in the beams. If she was sleeping through the light and heat, she might be here awhile.

  Deciding it was easier for both of us if I ducked out now, I quickly found a pair of jeans and a shirt and got dressed.

  I scrawled a note on the whiteboard on my fridge. Something about being called in to work, then grabbed my keys. Thankfully, the ridiculously overpriced apartment I lived in was over top of a coffee shop. It had been my hide out several times when I needed to get away from ladies who had overstayed their welcome.

  The scent of coffee hit me as soon as I opened the door. I glanced around the dim, cozy shop. It was run by a couple of witches and they kept the place mellow and smelling of a mixture of coffee and cinnamon. Mystical music played softly on the speakers. A song mixed with light chanting and rain in the background. It was almost like being in a spa. No wonder this place made me feel relaxed. I also wondered if the witches who ran it used charms to make it feel so comfortable. While they didn’t dabble in the dark magic I specialized in, they were shrewd business women who wanted to be successful.

  The shop was surprisingly busy for the early afternoon. Though I knew I wasn’t the only late riser in the neighborhood. I recognized some other regulars tucked away in their corners, typing away at laptops or gazing into the distance with their headphones covering their ears.

  There was someone new in line that I didn’t recognize. A striking woman in a pink floral dress. Her raven hair and dark eyes pulled me to her. In a world full of bottled blondes, she was extraordinary. She looked anxious and out of place, but there was something unusual about her that called to me.

  As I got closer, I could feel her magic. It ebbed and flowed around her, a dark force that felt oddly familiar to my own. It was rare to meet another who channeled dark magic. It was a gift, or a curse, few were born with. I’d found ways to use mine for profit without getting too far into the shady underworld. Though, most of the others I’d met were comfortable working solely in criminal enterprises. Most of them were my clients. As a lawyer, I could help them in ways others couldn’t. The title also gave me a certain level of respectability and enough of a cultural bias to make up for my evil streak. It didn’t surprise anyone. Plus, I got to work for myself and keep my own hours.

  I knew I shouldn’t bother her - she didn’t feel especially receptive right now. She was definitely sending out a don’t touch me vibe. Like a porcupine with all i
ts spines at the ready.

  But I couldn’t resist. Her magic called to me. Mingling with mine in a delicious way that I hadn’t experienced before. Plus, it didn’t hurt that she was stunning. Even in a shitty pink nightmare of a dress.

  Her long black hair and pale skin made her look like Snow White. But her lips were a perfect shade of pink. My thoughts instantly went to what her nipples would look like. The dress didn’t do much for her figure, but it showed off her tits.

  She was every man’s dream, and I wanted her in my bed.

  Every vibe she was putting off told me not to approach, but her magic dragged me to her. I couldn’t help myself.

  Chapter Two

  Caitlin

  “Come here often?”

  My brow furrowed as I shook off the pickup line. It was bad enough that I was wearing a pale pink fluffy dress covered in tiny flowers. Now, I had to deal with sleazy pickup lines while waiting for the caffeine I needed to make it through my sister’s wedding without falling asleep.

  “I’m serious. I’m here a lot and I think I’d remember you.” His voice was deep and sexy. But that didn’t mean I was happy about being hit on in the line to get coffee.

  “Look, mister.” I turned, then my mouth hung open speechless. Staring back at me was a handsome man with a confident grin on his face. His blue eyes locked onto mine and I nearly went weak in the knees. His neat dark beard framed a square jaw that drew me right up to the rest of his gorgeous face. He was far too handsome to be single.

  I frowned. “Is this your thing? Flirting with girls in the line for coffee while your girlfriend is away?”

  He grinned. “How do you know I have a girlfriend?”

  I rolled my eyes. He basically admitted he had a girlfriend, doing nothing to help me with my current mood. Every man I’d met - starting with my father - had demonstrated that men couldn’t be faithful. That relationships equaled heartbreak.

  “Vanilla Latte with an extra shot,” the barista called.

  I turned away from the handsome asshole and walked to the counter to get my coffee.

  “Hey, can I call you sometime?” he asked as I passed him.

  “Are you kidding me?” I scoffed, then walked out the door.

  My sister was an idiot. She was about to legally bind herself to a man. A shifter at that. Which meant, she wasn’t just marrying him - she was marrying his whole god damn pack. Fuck that. I was single and proud.

  Sipping the coffee, I mentally prepared myself for the onslaught of questions and looks I was about to get from my family. I was the odd one out and it wasn’t just because my baby sister was getting hitched before me. I had a whole day of defending my choice to leave the coven. To turn off the magic I didn’t want to use. Where I came from, witches who got jobs as accountants and lived boring, normal lives were a disgrace.

  I slid my sunglasses on and walked down the street, trying to enjoy the sunshine. As soon as night fell, the celebration would turn into a roast the single non-magical witch. Good thing I loved my sister. There was nobody else I would put up with this for.

  The gazebo in the garden was covered in white twinkling lights. White chairs formed neat rows with glowing lanterns hanging along the aisle. As the wedding planner tossed flower petals on the neatly trimmed grass between the chairs, I took in a deep breath. It was beautiful. Really. My sister was going to be thrilled with all the effort that went into her day.

  I bit down on the inside of my lip as I walked into the main house. It was challenging holding back all the negative thoughts. I worried for her. I worried that she was getting sucked into this make believe world and that six months from now, I was going to have to clean up a mess after her groom eventually showed his true colors.

  I knocked on the bridal suite, then opened the door. “Anyone here?”

  “Caitlin, is that you?” My sister, Lilian, turned toward the door.

  “I’m here.” I set my coffee cup down on a table and walked over to where she was sitting. A woman behind her was pinning her hair in a mess of curls around her head.

  “Have a seat,” she said. “Your turn next.”

  With a sigh, I grabbed my coffee then took an empty seat next to my sister. The room was full of giggles and chatter as Lilian and her bridesmaids gossiped and chatted nervously to pass the time. I sipped my coffee and forced a smile on my face.

  My sister and I were close. We had to be. Not that I regretted spending my childhood with her, but it was necessity. Our dad left when she was a baby and mom worked two jobs until she passed away the year after Lilian graduated high school.

  We’d survived by counting on each other and our grandmother. There was a part of me that was feeling left out now that she was able to depend on someone else too. I really, really hoped her husband treated her well.

  If he didn’t, I’d kill him. I’d let my magic out, no holding back. Last time that happened, people really did die. I was sure he knew the stories. Everyone did. It was part of why they all smiled politely but kept a wide berth, which was fine by me.

  “Ready darling?” the stylist asked as she took her position behind me.

  “I’m all yours,” I said.

  “Oh, that’s sweet, honey, but you’re not really my type.” She winked.

  I smiled and sipped my coffee. I wasn’t anybody’s type. I made damn sure of that.

  Finally, it was go time.

  The wedding flew by in a heartbeat. It was a blur of tears, kisses, and photographers shoving me into position. I smiled so much my face hurt.

  Finally, we entered the reception hall and someone handed me a glass of champagne. We toasted the couple as they performed a perfectly rehearsed dance in front of the gathered crowd. There were nearly two hundred people here. It should be easy enough for me to sneak out the second they cut the cake.

  “So, you’re next, right?”

  I rolled my eyes and turned to see my grandmother smiling at me. She was wearing hot pink lipstick and her eyes crinkled the way they did only when she was truly happy. It made me smile despite my desire to get the fuck out of here. “I don’t think you’ll ever see me walk down the aisle.”

  “Way to break your grandmother’s heart.” She winked.

  “You know it’s not for me,” I said. Of all the relatives, my grandmother was the only one who seemed to approve of my life choices.

  “You march to your own drum, Caitlin. You always have. But you can’t run from your destiny.”

  My brows pressed together. “Had a few drinks already, Grandma?”

  She laughed, a sound that was as close to a pleasant cackle as one could get. My grandma made the witch thing look easy. Magic was effortless to her. “You want to know why I’ve never worried about you?”

  I tossed back my glass of champagne in a way that would have impressed a frat boy. “Lay it on me, Grandma.”

  “Because it was your path. And you had to travel it to come into your true nature.” She cupped my cheek with her paper-thin hand. “You were always so brave and so afraid.”

  I wasn’t sure why, but her words stung. I thought she’d just understood me. Now, it seems she’s been waiting for me to change. I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Weddings made people weird. “Grandma, this is just who I am.”

  “I know, dear,” she said.

  The sound of clicking glasses echoed around us and I looked toward the head table.

  “Time for the toasts.” Grandma tapped my empty glass. “You better get a refill.”

  Chapter Three

  Caitlin

  My sister cried during my toast. Pretty, delicate tears. She was a magazine perfect bride. And thankfully, she was distracted by the never-ending stream of well-wishers, so nobody noticed me standing in the back of the reception hall.

  I sipped my drink, reminding myself not to get fall down drunk here. There were too many people I knew and too many cameras out. This wasn’t the bad decision kind of place. Though I was starting to second guess my quick judgement on the m
an who’d tried to pick me up at the coffee shop. Maybe I would have benefited from his type of distraction.

  I wrinkled my nose, disgusted at myself for thinking that way. I was fairly certain he had a girlfriend. He vibrated with the kind of bad boy aura that got me in trouble in the past. He was bad news. But shit, he looked good in that tight tee shirt.

  “Want some company?” My grandma asked as she passed me a fresh drink.

  I quickly finished the one in my hand and set it down. I would not fall behind my grandmother on the booze. She was hard to keep up with, but it was a point of pride here. “I’m not sure I’m great company.”

  She passed me the new glass. “I didn’t really come to keep you company. I have a favor.”

  “Sure, anything,” I said, meaning it. Grandma was the only person I’d agree to help no questions asked.

  “Good. That’s a binding agreement, you realize?” She asked.

  I scowled as I felt the magic snap into place. Shit. She was sneaky. “What could be so bad that you wanted to trick me into doing it? It’s not another blind date, is it?”

  She cackled, tossing her head back. Champagne sloshed over the edge of her glass. Whatever it was she had in store for me must be amusing.

  “Wow, way to get me to never agree to a favor again, Gran.”

  “Oh, it’s not so bad, you’ll see.” She reached into her beaded purse and pulled out a thick, cream colored envelope.

  “You see, I attend this ball every year and I’ve already committed but since it’s tomorrow night and my hip is already acting up, I need a stand in,” she said.