by E. M. Moore
Order of the Akasha
The Complete Series
E. M. Moore
Contents
Also By E. M. Moore
Summoned By Magic
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
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Tempted by Magic
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
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Ravished by Magic
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
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Indulged by Magic
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
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Enraged By Magic
Prologue
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
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Author Notes
About the Author
Her Alien Scouts series Preview
Also By E. M. Moore
Ravana Clan Vampires Series
Chosen By Darkness
Into the Darkness
Falling For Darkness
Surrender To Darkness
Ravana Clan Legacy Series
A New Genesis
Tracking Fate
Cursed Gift
Veiled History
Fractured Vision
Chosen Destiny
Order of the Akasha Series
Stripped (Prequel)
Summoned By Magic
Tempted By Magic
Ravished By Magic
Indulged By Magic
Enraged By Magic
Her Alien Scouts Series
Kain Encounters
Kain Seduction
Rise of the Morphings Series
Of Blood and Twisted Roots
Safe Haven Academy Series
A Sky So Dark
A Dawn So Quiet
Chronicles of Cas Series
Reawakened
Hidden
Power
Severed
Rogue
The Adams’ Witch Series
Bound In Blood
Cursed In Love
Witchy Librarian Cozy Mystery Series
Wicked Witchcraft
One Wicked Sister
Wicked Cool
Wicked Wiccans
The Ballers of Rockport High Series
Game On
Foul Line
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by E. M. Moore. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact E. M. Moore at [email protected].
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition March 2018
Created with Vellum
1
The point was to watch them, not get sucked in. I failed. Holy fuck, this guy was hot.
I always was a sucker for tattoos and guns. Not the kind of guns that shoot things. Guns, as in thick, muscled arms I could sink my teeth into.
I blew out a breath. For heaven’s sake, I needed a cold shower. It might even do these cramps some good. How the hell did I even end up here? Well, technically, I knew how. A long ass bus ride with people who weren’t always the cleanest and some men who I could tell didn’t have the best of intentions. The more appropriate question was why I ended up here.
I’d been getting cramps—I know, TMI—and a yearning in my stomach for something “other”. Something that wasn’t in New Orleans where I’d lived my whole life. The pressure was like a pull, and when you grew up with my grandmother, you tended to want to follow your instincts because that’s what she hammered into you day in and day out. Don’t trust someone? Don’t. They’re probably an axe murderer. Feel like you shouldn’t go to school today? Don’t. Who knows what shitty nonsense could happen? Don’t like that guy around the corner? Neither do I, he’s a dick.
I smiled to myself remembering Granny. She hated that name, but I called her it, anyway. She was a forever young person stuck in an old woman’s body. And, she just so happened to be the local Voodoo Priestess, revered—and feared—by many. Yeah, my childhood was a smash.
The too-loud pop music in the bar where I’d been enjoying my eye candy stopped suddenly. Shoved into the present, I dropped the straw that allowed me to suck down my Amaretto Sour like it was Kool-Aid and turned. Wow. What a dive bar. The absence of Bruno Mars’ Uptown Funk and the house lights exposed the thick layer of sticky grime on the bar and the off-brown checkered tile that led to the small stage at the back of the place.
The tall, lanky guy who lived with the Adonis I’d been lusting after since I got to Salem two days ago stood on t
he cramped stage. He tapped the microphone tentatively, sending a buzz through the air that made me cringe. “Sorry,” he muttered, while pushing his glasses back up his nose. He stood there awkwardly for a few moments, shifting his weight from foot to foot while I—and everyone else in the bar—watched. He wasn’t used to being the center of attention, that much was evident. My heart went out to him as his face blanched. The blinding white lights all turned on him and he stood there like a surprised animal getting caught taking food.
He was adorable, actually, in a dorky kind of way. All the guys who lived at the apartment I’d been drawn to were good looking in their own way, surprising and confusing me all at the same time. Before I could get sucked back down the rabbit hole of why I was here, he finally cleared his throat and spoke. “Uh, hey.” He waved awkwardly, then put his hand above his eyes to ward off the spotlights. “Just wanted to send a happy birthday out to my friend, Randy. Um, guess I should’ve brought a drink up here with me to toast or something, but uh…”
One of the other guys from the apartment, the blond one who looked like he stepped off a sports magazine cover when he left for practice in the morning, ran a drink up to the front. “Bottom’s up,” he winked.
“Thanks, Gabe.” The lanky one bent over so his lips were almost on the microphone as he raised his borrowed glass in the air. “Happy birthday, Randy.” The microphone buzzed and squeaked as he stepped away.
The blond one—Gabe, apparently—stepped right up after. “Cheers, Mate!” He threw his own drink back, and stepped away from the mic, encouraging the lanky one to do the same with his. He did, his face immediately puckering, and then gave a quick shake of his head as he finally swallowed what was surely some strong, hard liquor.
I leaned against the bar and took a drink of my own. Following them to the bar tonight had been a good idea. I’d just learned two of their names—Gabe and Randy. I also knew that Gabe was apparently British and that it was Randy, Mr. Hot as Fuck’s, birthday.
I eyed the two as they made their way back over to the bar a few feet from where I stood. The same pull tugged in the pit of my stomach when they were all together. I moaned deep as the feeling became overwhelming. There was definitely something about these four. Was I supposed to know them? Was I supposed to fear them? Nothing seemed off. They were four regular guys. Three of them went to college at Salem State while Randy spent most of his time at the gym and a tattoo parlor.
Frustrated, I pulled the straw from my glass and downed the rest of my drink. I was just about to place it back on the bar when a deep, gruff voice said, “I hope that was in my honor.”
My eyes widened, and I almost sputtered. The guy I’d been lusting after since I got here just spoke to me. Holy bananas. Now that he was six inches away, I got to check him out up close. It was easy to get drawn in. He looked sexy as sin wherever he went. He was either dressed for the gym, showing off his sexy as fuck muscles, or sporting tight ass t-shirts on his way to the tattoo parlor he worked at. Tonight was the same tattoo parlor look, jeans that hugged his hips with a black shirt that looked like it was tailor-made just for him. What I hadn’t noticed from watching him with what was usually a street distance between us, was his dark eyes. They were deep brown, teetering on black. A shiver rocked my spine.
Suppressing my inner freak out, I blinked up at him, doing my best to appear interested. Appear? Who was I kidding? I was interested. “Of course,” I answered. “Randy, is it?”
He nodded in assent before taking his time perusing my body. My insides clenched, a more potent feeling than I’d ever had before as his eyes raked all over me. I hadn’t brought much of anything with me from New Orleans, including clothes, since I didn’t know what I would find here. Tonight, I’d just tied off one of my black shirts right above my right hip, showing a little midriff. It was about as “bar appropriate” as I got, even when I was home. Coupled with the tight pair of jeans I’d brought with me, I didn’t look half bad in the small ass motel mirror I’d checked my reflection in before making my way here. I’d followed them to the bar and then decided I had to go back to the room and do a little mini wardrobe makeover before heading in after them and seeing what I could find out. It couldn’t help to be as sexy as I could while trying to feel them out. At least, that’s what I’d thought, and it was working too. Randy was actually standing in front of me, his eyes gliding over my skin as if his only thought was what he could do to me.
I swallowed and yelled at myself to stop it. The tug in my stomach hadn’t brought me thousands of miles away just to sleep with the guy in front of me. Voodoo didn’t do shit like that. Hell, if it did, I wouldn’t have resisted it for so long when I was younger.
His dark eyes latched onto mine. Before long though, a tinge of amusement colored his face. His lips moved, and I watched as they separated in succession, drawn to them instantly. When they cracked into a wider smile, I was thrown back into reality. He wasn’t just standing in front of me so I could ogle him, he’d been saying something. “Sorry, what?”
Instead of smiling this time, his intense eyes froze. “Your name?”
“Norah.” Inwardly, I kicked myself. I’d intended on using a fake name if we ever got to this point, but the way he looked at me made me lose all my senses.
He pulled a curl of my hair off my shoulder and fingered it. “Norah,” he said, as if he was testing the way it sounded on him, and damned if it didn’t sound amazing, panty-melting amazing.
He dropped my hair and turned toward the bar, breaking off my current train of thought where I climbed on him like a monkey and felt every inch of his chiseled body. He was hot, and he knew it. He also knew I thought he was hot. I no longer had the upper hand. Like, at all, and I had a feeling I never would with him.
He slapped the bar a few times and held his finger up in the air. The bartender walked right up and shook his hand. Randy motioned in my direction. “My new friend Norah needs a drink.”
The bartender’s lips curled up. He looked from Randy to me. “Another Amaretto Sour.”
I nodded. “Please.”
The bartender turned away and Randy once again turned his full attention toward me. “So, Norah, I haven’t seen you around here before.”
His muscles bulged underneath his t-shirt as he shifted, but I refused to look at them. “That’s not really your pickup line, is it, Birthday Boy?”
He smirked. “It’s the tamest one I got. I had several others in mind, but since I’ve already seen you blush a couple times, I wasn’t sure they were appropriate.”
I stood up taller, accepting his challenge. “I can take it. What do you got?”
Randy leaned over, his hot breath caressed my ear. I could just picture him smirking as my body flushed. He had me right where he wanted me. “I was wondering,” he said slowly, “If you kiss with that sexy as fuck accent.” Before I could tell him that he should try to find out, he pulled away as if he hadn’t just curled my toes. “Where is it from, anyway?”
“Louisiana,” I told him, still trying to keep it together and apparently totally losing the fight to keep my identity a secret. “A little bit of Creole, a little bit of South.” My body wasn’t sending me any warning signals to keep my mouth shut. In fact, it was doing the opposite. It was practically humming in Randy’s presence. I’d never been so turned on just talking to a guy before. Every move he made, my body countered with him as if I were his shadow.
His dark eyes flared. “Mixed beauty…”
I’d always loved my soft brown skin. While other girls had to work hard to tan, mine was permanently there. He trailed a finger down my wrist, and I had to clench my jaw to not moan in ecstasy. For fuck’s sake, he had me pinned already.
The adorable lanky friend put a hand on Randy’s shoulder, saving me from having to say something, which probably would’ve come out an incomprehensible mess. He pushed his glasses up his nose. “You told me not to let you stay out too late since you got the morning shift at the gym.”