Fangtastic Four
The Miscreants Book Two/Magic and Mayhem Universe
R.L. Merrill
Celie Bay Publications LLC
Contents
Fangtastic Four
Foreword
Fangtastic Four
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Fangtastic Four
The Miscreants Book Two
Magic and Mayhem Universe
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By R.L. Merrill
Created with Vellum
Copyright © 2021 by Celie Bay Publications LLC
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All rights reserved.
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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.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is coincidental.
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This book contains content that may not be suitable for young readers 17 and under.
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The Author of this Book has been granted permission by Robyn Peterman to use the copyrighted characters and/or worlds created by Robyn Peterman in this book. All copyright protection to the original characters and/or worlds of the Magic and Mayhem series is retained by Robyn Peterman.
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Cover by Isabel Michaels
Edited by Kelli Collins - Edit Me This
Created with Vellum
Foreword
Blast Off with us into the Magic and Mayhem Universe!
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I’m Robyn Peterman, the creator of the Magic and Mayhem Series and I’d like to invite you to my Magic and Mayhem Universe.
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What is the Magic and Mayhem Universe, you may ask?
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Well, let me explain…
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It’s basically authorized fan fiction written by some amazing authors that I stalked and blackmailed! KIDDING! I was lucky and blessed to have some brilliant authors say yes! They have written brand new stories using my world and some of my characters. And let me tell you…the results are hilarious!
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So here it is! Blast off with us into the hilarious Magic and Mayhem Universe. Side splitting books by fantabulous authors! Check out each and every one. You will laugh your way to a magical HEA!
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For all the stories, go to https://magicandmayhemuniverse.com/. Grab your copy today!
And if you would like to read the book that started all the madness, Switching Hour is FREE!
https://robynpeterman.com/switching-hour/
To my Seester, Deanna
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I love you more than all of our childhood idols.
I love you more than Creature Features.
I love you more than Haunted Houses.
I love you.
Sniff.
Fangtastic Four
Prologue
One Year Ago…
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I’d gone and done it, and I felt like a new woman.
I held the giant loop of heavy skeleton keys in my hands and gazed up at the looming stone monstrosity, which now belonged to me.
I’d bought a haunted mansion. And a TV station.
I’d moved across the Atlantic Ocean for a fresh start and it was about to begin.
As I fumbled with the keys, the heavy iron door swung inward, slowly, with lots of creaking.
“Hello?” I called out as I stepped over the threshold. A gust of wind blew past me from behind, pushing me into the house, then the door swung shut.
Inside the mansion it was dark, cool, and a tad musty. Call me weird, but I loved it. I felt at home. In Germany, we’d lived in an old stone castle, as had all of the Wetter witches for centuries. I was the first to leave my homeland, but since I’d been cursed since birth, there was really nothing there for me except the disappointed gazes on my family’s faces.
But standing on the gritty floor of my new home, a remarkably similar stone castle, I couldn’t wait to get started with my new life.
“Is anyone here?” I called out once more, wondering if perhaps one of the staff remained despite the mansion being vacant for the past hundred years. Time moved in strange ways here in Assjacket, West Virginia. I’d done my research and taken a chance that this town was the perfect place for me to reinvent myself. I’d bought the manor sight unseen, determined to make the most of this new life.
Suddenly, I caught a whiff of…tea? And honey?
I moved to my right, using the pale light that managed to creep into the home around the torn and tattered drapes. I heard the tinkling of a spoon and imagined it was stirring a delicious cup of witches’ brew. I felt a little homesick, even though I knew there was nothing in Germany for me now. Still, I missed my mother’s tea.
“You’re right on time. I poured you a cup.”
Sitting at a small bistro set under a skylight was a dashing man wearing a velvet waistcoat and a scarf tied around his neck. Only, he wasn’t a man. Not any longer.
“Come, come. Have a seat.”
I sat across from the striking man, noticing his well-groomed mustache and the blond waves he wore in a complicated coiffure. He slid one of the two cups my way, however, his hand didn’t actually make contact with the porcelain.
“My grandmother used to make this blend special from her herb garden. I hope you like it.” He held his cup by the delicate handle and his mustache shifted as he smiled. He sipped noisily and then set the cup on the saucer with a sigh.
“I wasn’t aware anyone remained on the premises,” I said, although I knew before the words were out that I’d made a mistake.
The man’s bushy eyebrows tilted down. “It’s not as if I had a choice,” he said. His cadence of speech was old Hollywood, that diction that wasn’t quite British, wasn’t American, but somehow sounded magical.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “Where are my manners?” The man had offered me tea, for Goddess’s sake. The least I could do was introduce myself. “I’m Wilma Wetter, of the Harz Mountain Wetters.”
I held out my hand and waited to see what he would do.
“Bertram Cravenly,” he said. “Formerly the Lord of Cravenly Manor. You must be the new lady of the house?” His ghostly hand passed over mine and I felt the slightest brush of contact.
I sank back into my seat. “I’ve just purchased the mansion from Assjacket Realty. I apologize, Mr. Cravenly, I wasn’t aware there was still a sentient being here.”
He lifted a napkin and wiped at his mustache. “Nonsense,” he said. “I may be sentient, but I’m no longer corporeal, as you can see. I’ve been in this state for one hundred years, and that’s the length of time a property can sit vacant of living beings in this town before it must be sold. I’ve sat idly by while the manor has fallen into disrepair.” He sounded so forlorn. “It is time for someone to breathe new life into this place, especially an esteemed witch such as yourself.”
I braved a smile and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my chest. “I was born a witch, true, but I have no magic. I carry a family curse.” Someday I’d get used to telling people, but in one hundred twelve years, I hadn’t yet.
Bertram ran an app
raising look over me. “Being born of witches myself, I can tell you have powerful magic. Assjacket is a special place. I wouldn’t count on being without your magic for long.”
I wished I could be as hopeful as him.
“When the realtor sent me information about the place, I bought it straight away. You have a magnificent home here,” I said. Then I had an idea. “I’ve never done a massive restoration before, perhaps you would help me? I’d love to recapture the feeling from before you—”
“Before I was murdered.”
“Murdered?” My eyes went wide with shock. “That was most certainly left off of the listing,” I muttered. Not that this particular piece of knowledge would have kept me from buying the place, but I might have enlisted the aid of a local witch to help me with a cleansing. It’s important to help spirits pass on, and if this ghost was involuntarily holding onto this plane, I wanted to help him.
“It is a long story…for another time. Would you like a tour, Miss Wetter?”
My heart warmed at his proper pronunciation of my last name. Most people said it as it was written and I was tired of correcting them. As I planned to begin a career as a weather forecaster for the local TV station W-ASS, having a soggy name like Wetter—the way Americans say it—was rather unfortunate.
“I would very much like a tour.”
He held out his ghostly elbow and I placed my hand where the crook would have been. He was slightly shorter than me, but he had a powerful presence.
“I suppose there’s no reason we can’t share the vast manor? Perhaps we can divvy up the areas of the home. I won’t bother you—”
He smiled for real this time. “You’re not a bother, my dear. I think I should like to have a…what would you call it? A housemate?”
“I’d like that, too. I don’t know anyone here in town. It would be nice to have a friend.”
He nodded and guided me toward the stairs. “A friend indeed. I haven’t had one of those in a long time.”
Chapter One
Present Day
Wilma
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“Twister at two o’clock,” Jacob called out as Jules swerved on the gravel highway.
“I can’t keep from skidding on this ice,” Jules said. “How the hell can the road be freezing and yet it’s hot as hell outside? The thermometer says it’s a hundred and three!”
“Wilma, honey?” Jacob asked, his voice a higher octave than normal. “Do you think you could maybe—”
“Watch out!” Freddy shouted. “There’s an avalanche starting up on the left…turn turn turn!”
Jules yanked the steering wheel to the right, narrowly avoiding the huge snowdrift in front of us. The van fishtailed as she turned into my driveway, golf-ball-sized hail pounding the roof of the van.
“Take a deep breath,” Gus said in my ear. “Everything is going to be all right.” He wrapped me in his arms and started humming.
I focused on his voice and breathed in nice and slow through my nose. And the brightest moon I’d ever seen came out from behind the clouds.
I’d only been a vampire for an hour or so, and the bite that brought me to this state somehow managed to break my lifelong curse. I would have been thrilled if I hadn’t turned into a walking Weather Channel disaster.
Jules pulled up to Cravenly Manor and parked the van with a jerk.
“We’re here.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Thank the Goddess.”
Jacob clapped his hands together. “Hot damn, that was fun.”
My eyes burned as if I might cry, and the sky opened up, a torrential downpour cascading over the windshield.
“You mind letting us out?” I asked Jules through the metal gate that separated the cab of the van from the rear. If I didn’t get out of this van, I was going to flood the damn thing. I’d already done enough damage today.
Jules groaned and opened the van door, getting instantly soaked by the rain cloud that had followed us from Witchita’s bar.
“I’m sorry about this—” I started to say “rain,” but she slammed the door. A moment later she was at the back doors of the van, which she unlocked and threw open. She ran back to the cab, hopped in her seat and locked the door again.
“No offense, Wilma, but y’all need to get your fangs under control. I love you to pieces, but I don’t want to be your meal.”
“None taken,” I said with a sigh. I was hungry, but so far I hadn’t been as ravenous as the guys. Mac thought perhaps it was my magic and disposition that kept me from attacking every bare neck I could find, but I wasn’t too sure. To be safe, Jules had locked us all in the back cage of her van and we’d left Witchita’s in a hurry before I could hurt anyone. Because, see, things had gotten hot and heavy in the bar’s back booth and my new paramour had given me a third bite, and despite the fact I was a witch, he’d turned me into a vampire. So that happened.
Gus squeezed my hand.
“Thanks for the ride, Jules,” he said and then gestured for his cousins to get out.
“Sure,” she said. “And Wilma, I’m sorry. Mac was adamant that you need to remain on house arrest until you go through your fanger mentorship…and get the weather under control.”
“Of course. Did he say…anything else?” Like, does he have any ideas on how I might do this? Is there a mentor for wayward witches?
“Only that he’ll be over in a couple of days to check on you guys, and if you need anything, to call him or Zelda.” Jules shrugged.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’m really sorry, Jules.”
“No, I’m sorry, Wilma. I feel like I should have done more to protect you. What will you do?”
Lightning cracked, illuminating the sky and my massive stone mansion. The towers loomed over the circular driveway like guardians against the black night, however it would be just as easy to mistake them for keeping inhabitants inside. As prisoners. Which is what this felt like.
“Figure it out? Go through my vampire mentorship with Jacob, I suppose, and do something about all this.” I waved my hand and thunder rolled through the sky around us. “I’m a menace on all counts.”
Jules’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll handle everything at the station. Jack will appreciate the extra time on screen.”
Jack Russell, the news anchor I’d hired at my station, K-ASS, certainly liked to look at himself. And hear himself talk. He was great with the news, however, and the citizens of Assjacket were starting to tune in. He’d been asking for more airtime and more responsibilities. Guess his wish was coming true.”
“Thank you,” I said. “And I promise I’ll get things under control. I swear.”
Jules gave me an unsure smile. She was so not a fan of vampires. Before she met me, she’d only spent time with Shifters, and I think the fact that I’d been cursed and had no witchy powers made her more comfortable with me. Now that I’d been Turned and my curse was broken? I hoped I hadn’t lost my best friend.
I climbed out of the van and Gus jumped down behind me, much more gracefully, seeing as he’d had several days of vampire lessons under his belt. The rain soaked us as we ran for the front door, which opened as I approached. Once inside, we wrung out our clothes and tried to catch our breath.
“Thank Goodness you’re home, young lady— Oh. We have guests.”
Bertram hovered at the base of the grand staircase.
“Bertram, please meet Gus, his cousins Vinny and Freddy, and you may already know Mac’s brother, Jacob. Guys, this is Bertram, my housemate.”
“How do you do? And yes, Jacob. Lovely to see you again. It’s been quite some time, since you were just a pup. Please, come inside. I’ll get the fire lit for you.”
The door closed with a loud crack behind us and the four men jumped.
“They’re going to be staying with us for…a while.”
Bertram’s eyebrows rose but he nodded and remained composed.
I turned to lead the guys to the parlor but found Gus and his cousins gaping after Bert
ram’s retreating figure.
“Guys?”
“Is that…” Freddy asked, pointing.
“Bertram Cravenly,” Jacob said, shaking out the long strands of his wet hair. “Lord of Cravenly Manor.” He pointed toward the giant portrait hanging at the top of the stairs. “Formerly Bert Craven, silent film star.”
Vinny gasped. “I knew I’d seen him before! Our abuelita loves the old films. I’ve probably seen every film the guy’s ever made. Days in the Sun is freaking brilliant! How is this possible?”
“He’s a ghost,” Jacob said with a shrug. He strolled toward the parlor. “He’s been haunting these halls as long as I’ve been alive.”
Freddy frowned. “How old are you, anyway?”
Jacob raised his eyebrows. “It’s 2021? Ummm, I guess that makes me right around sixty-eight.”
“No way. How old is Mac?” Vinny asked him.
“Older,” Jacob said with a smirk. Vinny and Freddy followed him into the parlor. I could see the light from the massive fireplace through the doorway. It was Bertram’s favorite upgrade to the house: gas fireplaces.
“Wilma?”
Gus stood before me, concern oozing from him. The poor man. I’d put him in a difficult position, practically begging him to bite me back at the bar, and now he was saddled with a broken witch who was also a vampire, and who was spinning out of control before his very eyes.
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