The Bewitched Box Set

by W. J. May

  There was an angry buzz of conversation, stopped short by a few harsh words, too low and throaty for me to make out. I did, however, understand one of them. ‘Wayne.’

  There’s a trick door behind the bookshelf. Go—now!

  I met his eyes for a split second, then flew to the shelf, silent as a grave. As quietly as I could, I yanked it open and slipped inside, pulling it shut just as the door opened and six angry werewolves spilled inside.

  “Wayne! Buddy!” the throaty voice called.

  I peered through a slit in the shelf, watching helplessly as my one and only friend in the world was suddenly, casually, surrounded.

  “Amos. Patrick,” he greeted them with a forced calm. “What can I do for you tonight? I trust you didn’t come this far for the nectar?”

  There was a thunderous barking that might have been a threat, or might have been laughter. It was hard to tell.

  “Actually no,” the one he called Patrick replied. “We came here tonight for a different reason.” As if by dark coincidence, he sat down in my chair and picked up the crumpled wanted poster, smoothing it open on his leg. “One which you might have a vested interest in.”

  Wayne leaned back against his desk and frowned questioningly. “Oh yes, and what might that be?”

  “Come now, old friend, let’s not play games.”

  A werewolf with a shock of dark hair poked his head in the door. “She’s not here.”

  Patrick just smiled, keeping his eyes fixed on Wayne. “Tell me where she is, Wayne.”

  Wayne gulped. “The girl from the poster? Why on earth would I know that?”

  “Because I heard she came to your bar. I heard she came looking for you.” Patrick leaned in, looking dangerous. “And you and I both know that you’d only do one of two things. Help her, or turn her in. Either way...she’d still be around. So tell me where she is.”

  Wayne held up his hands peaceably. “Listen, guys, you’ve got this all wrong—”

  “No, I don’t think so.” Patrick got to his feet and my mouth fell open in shock. He was well over six feet tall, maybe seven. Wayne shrank even smaller in his seat as the wolf leaned over him, flashing his teeth. “And I’m only going to ask one more time. Where’s the girl?”

  Wayne’s breathing quickened but he gripped the sides of his armrest and tried to look calm. “Patrick, I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve seen the poster, just like you, but I haven’t seen the girl. You must have gotten some bad information.”

  Patrick shook his head slowly and made a disappointed clicking sound with his tongue.

  “Wayne, Wayne...”

  He snapped his fingers and two werewolves pulled Wayne to his feet. My teeth ground together and my fingers left little grooves in the thick wood as I struggled to contain myself.

  What good would me bursting out do anyway? I hadn’t been able to get my magic to work since last night, and me showing myself would only verify that Wayne was lying.

  “I didn’t want it to come to this,” Patrick breathed as he straightened to his full height.

  Wayne struggled a bit, but the other two werewolves held him firm. “We’ve known each other over a decade,” he panted through his teeth, “you wouldn’t just kill me.”

  Patrick smiled, a terrifying, deadly smile I knew I’d remember for the rest of my life.

  “You’re the mind reader, friend.” He tapped his head. “You tell me.”

  There was a single cry, then Wayne fell silently to the floor. Patrick stayed right where he was, standing over his old friend’s body.

  Holding his bloody, dripping heart in his fist.

  I stifled a scream in my hand. The world churned around me and I thought I was going to be sick.

  “Stash the body,” Patrick commanded as the others began to search the office. “And keep looking for the girl.”

  The wolves split up, ransacking the office and getting ever nearer to my hidden place behind the shelf. My hands trembled uncontrollably as I watched Patrick set down Wayne’s heart like a lopsided paperweight. When they got close enough, they would smell me. It was only a matter of time.

  The wolf with the dark hair came back in and Patrick turned to him with a glare. “Amos, tell me you’ve found something.”

  “I’m sorry, Patrick, there’s no one here.”

  There was a sudden bang as the door swung open, revealing someone I couldn’t see.

  “I think you’ll find you’re wrong about that, mate.”

  Patrick turned with a start and the other wolves took up a defensive position around him.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he snarled.

  The man strode forward and my breath caught in my chest. It was the handsome man from the bar. The one I’d realized who had been drinking blood.

  “Well I was trying to enjoy a glass of blood when you and your pups came and looted the place. I was going to complain to the manager,” his eyes flickered to Wayne’s body for split second, “but I can see I’m too late.”

  Run, I thought desperately, peering through the crack in the wood as this one man stood alone against seven. You don’t know what you’re up against.

  “Sorry about your blood, leech. But I’m sure you can find what you’re looking for in the next bar.”

  “Or the parking lot,” one of the other wolves taunted.

  The vampire’s eyes fell on him as he smiled along good naturedly. “Normally I would. But now it seems as though we have another problem.” There was a subtle shift in the air, and all at once, his eyes cooled to pale fire. “You killed my friend. And that, I cannot abide.”

  It was over before I knew it, before my eyes could make sense of what was happening.

  There was a blur of blood and flesh. What sounded like dogs screaming. And then all was quiet. When the dust finally cleared, I saw the vampire standing exactly where he had been, calmly re-folding the cuffs on his sleeves.

  Maybe he won’t see me, I prayed. Maybe he’ll just go away.

  But there was a swish of air, and the next second, he was standing right in front of the shelf. He stepped forward and squinted into the crack. We were face to face, separated by only a thin sheet of wood. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he caught sight of me, he grinned.

  “Blair Griffin? Tristan Gale.”

  There was a sudden splintering, and with a mighty heave, he pulled the trick door off its hinges. I screamed for real and backed away into what remained of the crumbling shelf. He looked at me curiously, then shook his head in quick reassurance.

  “No, I’m not going to hurt you, I came here to help. Wayne was my friend, you see. How do you think I knew about this cabinet of his?”

  He extended a hand, and after a moment of excruciating deliberation, I took it.

  “There you are,” he smiled, brushing dust and shards of wood off my shoulders, “no worse for the wear.” There was a distant crash and the sound of angry voices. He glanced behind him toward the bar before looking down at the dismembered bodies of the werewolves. “Ah yes, I suppose the others might be a bit angry about that... Well no matter.”

  The next thing I knew, I was up in his arms.

  “What is it they say in the movies? Ah yes.” He flashed me a devastating smile as he stepped over a severed arm. “Come with me if you want to live.”

  To be continued...

  Book 2 in Blair’s journey.

  Did you enjoy Blair - part 1? If so, I’d love for you to consider writing a review. Even a line or two would be more than helpful! Thank you so much because so many times new authors are overlooked and are not given a chance. I appreciate your support more than you know. Thank you so much!

  Thank you for reading! Blair’s story continues. But you can also read about three other daughters of darkness. See banner below. Their stories are coming soon!

  4 authors will each take a different daughter born from the Prince of Darkness.

  Blair – Chrissy Peebles

  Jezebel – Kristen Midd
leton

  Victoria – W.J. May

  Lotus – C.J. Pinard

  ––––––––

  ***

  The Ruby Ring Saga (book 1 is free!)

  Young Adult Vampires

  The Crush Saga (book 1 is free!)

  The Crush Saga Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/LbfIsKTsPhw

  Author’s blog:

  http://www.chrissypeebles.blogspot.com

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  Story 2 – Enchanted Castle by Chrissy Peebles

  Enchanted Castle

  A Novelette

  By Chrissy Peebles

  Book 1 in The Enchanted Castle Series

  Copyright 2012 by Chrissy Peebles

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Facebook fan page:

  https://www.facebook.com/USA-TODAY-Bestselling-author-ChrissyPeebles-351121651567296/

  Young Adult Vampires

  The Crush Saga (book 1 is free!)

  The Crush Saga Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/LbfIsKTsPhw

  The Enchanted Castle Series Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/erZOVmD8P0s

  Episode 1

  Sometimes, what seems to be one’s salvation turns out to be one’s doom. When the brochure for Mount Park Manor arrived in our mailbox, it seemed like the perfect opportunity for a fresh start, a place to step away from things and forget about my past. The very next day, I mailed the card back with “Yes” marked in a big red checkmark. About a week or two later, Mom drove me three hours away to take the entrance exam. I was ecstatic when I received the letter telling me I’d been accepted. Two months later, when it was time to leave New Orleans behind, I didn’t cry. I didn’t even look back. I was just relieved to be given a chance at a new life.

  The ten-minute wait for the black limousine that would take me from Glasgow Airport to Mount Park Manor gave me a good picture of what to expect; it was a boring place in the boring Scottish countryside, with lots of boring people around me, but I was prepared to blend right in.

  As we drove out of the gray city, past green fields that stretched for miles on both sides of the road. We were immersed in semidarkness that wasn’t natural for that time of day, at least not where I came from. I heaved a big sigh and sank into the soft leather seats, stretching my tired legs after the nine-hour flight. I closed my eyes and did a quick mental check, making sure I had everything right, going over my cover story as to why I would have left one of the most beautiful cities behind. And, of course, there were all those made-up childhood memories of a loving family I’d never had.

  It was the end of August, when I arrived at Mount Park Manor, with my suitcase in tow. We’d moved at least twenty times in my young life, so I was used to not possessing much. It didn’t bother me at all, because settling down—in New Orleans, Scotland, or anywhere else—was something I never expected to do. It’s not that I wanted to live a rootless, nomadic life, but it was a necessity. Wherever I went, no one seemed to get me. Heck, my own parents didn’t get me, and they’d always preferred to abandon me with some nanny or at a stuffy boarding school while they traveled the globe. After the last incident at my previous temporary school, I no longer felt a need to be understood. I had a new mantra, The less attention people pay me, the better, and I was becoming really good at blending in.

  The car rolled through the high gates at a leisurely speed. I peered through the rain-stained windows at the imposing building in front of me. I’d assumed we’d be staying in an old house, just a mansion, but as I peered at the four-or five-story building with all those arched windows and tiny towers, I realized I’d be spending the next school year in a magnificent castle. I smiled at the thought of cliques that wouldn’t pay me any attention in such huge, enchanting surroundings, and I hoped I could just blend right in to the ancient woodwork.

  The door creaked as I entered, and I expected hundreds of eyes to gawk at me as soon as I stepped inside. But to my surprise, the hall—a large, open space with a candelabra and a red rug covering most of the marble floor—was entirely empty, devoid of life, but soft voices and short laughter carried over from upstairs. I peered down at the layout map they’d sent with my enrollment papers and headed up the broad staircase.

  My room was situated on the second floor, tenth door to the right. The lights were already on, so I stepped in and stopped midstride, at a loss for words. Whoa! Was the only word that came to mind as I looked around at my accommodations. The place definitely had some gothic vibes going on. For one thing, there was no delicate floral wallpaper—only old Tuscany brick walls, like something out of Dracula’s castle.

  My gaze moved up to the arched stone windows and vaulted ceiling, but only long enough to realize that I was still standing in the doorway, gaping like an idiot. The last thing I wanted to do was draw attention to myself, good or bad. I knew gossip would only lead to lots of unwelcome interest in me, so I softly closed the door behind me and set my bags down next to the king-sized antique bed, carved from dark wood, with a matching bedside table. I spun in a circle as I took in the luxurious tapestries hanging from the walls and red and gold drapes adorning the windows.

  While I came from a huge house in New Orleans and was used to the overpriced stuff my parents liked to call antiques, I had never seen such opulence, not even in a museum. Much to my chagrin, I found myself strolling around the room, touching this and that, until I stopped in front of a huge mirror to regard my blonde hair that was falling into my hazel eyes and the dark circles under my eyes; I couldn’t blame them on jetlag, because that under-eye luggage had been there for at least the last few weeks. I ran a hand through my hair and pinched my cheeks to give them a bit of color. Just then, I noticed two black suitcases, situated across the thick rug and fabric wingback chairs on the far right of the room.

  As far as I remembered, I only had one suitcase, and it was certainly not beat up like those two. Am I in the wrong room? I wondered. Frowning, I inched to inspect the name tags.

  Suddenly, the door burst open, and a tall guy walked in.

  Startled, I jumped a step back and pressed my hand against my heart.

  “Whoa! My first day here, and already I’m a lucky guy,” he said with a grin.

  I blinked, stunned and taken aback at the sound of his deep, melodious voice. I cleared my throat as I tried to look away from his impossibly blue eyes, framed by long lashes. He was clad in tight blue jeans and a shirt that hugged his muscles, but what really stood out was the cord necklace he wore around his neck. “I-I’m pretty sure I was assigned this room, so...”

  He ran a hand through his messy black hair and rubbed his half-open eyes, visibly amused. “I dunno. Sounds like a farfetched explanation. Maybe we’re just supposed to share.”

  “I think you need to find your room,” I said rigidly.

  He walked past me and reached for his suitcases. I heaved a big sigh of relief, thinking he’d be out the door in no time, but to my surprise, the guy just tossed his bags on the bed and starting unzipping them.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” I whispered, mortified.

  He ignored my question and continued rummaging through his things. I didn’t want to look, but I couldn’t help but sneak a peek. He seemed
to have an affinity for well-worn blue jeans and torso-hugging shirts. “I’m Hunter, by the way,” he said, holding out his hand.

  I peered down at the tan skin and the silver ring on his index finger but didn’t touch it. “Zoey...and please get out of my room.”

  “Ain’t happening, beautiful. I’m pretty sure this is my room, and even if it’s not, I was here first.” He threw the cover back on his suitcase, but didn’t zip it up.

  “Ain’t?” I snorted. “Isn’t this school supposed to be for the crème de la crème, the cream of the crop?”

  He peeked up, his eyes twinkling. “Heh. Have you met any of the characters in this place? They searched high and low across the United States to...find us.” He laughed.

  “Yes, because they saw talent in us.” I wasn’t on the honor roll or anything like that, but the teachers and school officials had always said I had potential, that they saw something special in me.

  Hunter snorted. “Talent, huh? My rap sheet is a mile long. Most schools wanna expel me, not enroll me.”

  “Why are you here then?” I asked, trying not to stare into those mesmerizing eyes.

  “I dunno. What do you think?” He laughed softly. “It’s Scotland though. Would you turn down spending your senior year of high school in a place like this? It’s like...freedom.”

  Fair enough, I thought, though it was a bit ironic. He was here for freedom while I was running away from my problems—far away to another country, as if even that could bury the pain.

  Hunter pointed at my neck. “Love the necklace. Hey...wait! You must be that gypsy girl everyone’s talking about. Your mom, Madam Destiny or something, does readings on TV, right? Think she’d do one for me? I need to know whether I’ll pass math this time.”

  I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks. Great. He had to bring up my mother. She’s so... The truth is, it was difficult to describe my mom. She wore long, ruffled, flowing skirts, large hoop earrings, beaded jewelry, gold bangle bracelets, and scarves in vibrant and obnoxious colors. She completed the gaudy, hippie street fair costume with a large opal ring to complete the look. Yes, my mother was a typical gypsy, complete with sandals that she even wore in the winter.