If She's Wicked

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If She's Wicked Page 3

by Amelia Hutchins


  “Careful, the monster within me wishes to feed from your corpse, Frasier,” I hissed, letting the deep rattle reverberate through the room. “Keep fucking running that mouth and I will let him out to play.” He shivered visibly, very aware of what was watching him from within me. As old as he was, not even he would fuck with that which prowled within my flesh. I knew what he’d done to her, and I’d stripped the Knight who was supposed to protect her in my absence of his spurs, along with his power. Right before I took his fucking head from his shoulders for looking the other way as she was abused.

  I stepped back, pulling my phone from my pocket as I slid my thumb over it, unlocking the screen. Arthur didn’t answer, and he had shit for brains if he thought he could do this without my knowing about it. I dialed the Templar Order, snorting loudly as my father’s mistress asked me to hold, knowing who it was before I’d even spoken.

  “What?” my father responded within seconds.

  “You sent Arthur after her?” I snapped crossly.

  “I sent him to lure her to you. He is retrieving the necklace you asked for. She will assume it is something else, but she will be where we agreed within the hour. How you handle it from there is your issue, as long as you handle it, Mason. Her time is up, our people come first.”

  “I’m en route; if he touches her, I’ll kill him myself.”

  I ended the call, moving towards the location as I pulled up the other half of the spell she took unknowingly. A few whispered words and the paper ignited, burning as I held it until it singed my flesh. I dropped it, watching as it hit the snow-covered path and disintegrated. My girl was inches away from the one Knight who wanted to hurt her, the one asshole who fought me for this right. Fuck him too if he thought he was ever touching her. I’d rip his spine out before I allowed that to ever happen.

  Stepping into the shadows, I watched the alluring wench who was wearing the stolen glamour of what she thought was the perfect woman. She was all blonde, blue eyes, and perfect, which didn’t fit her at all. Not my girl, no. My girl was created for war, scarred from battles, covered in woad, and those eyes of hers; they searched your soul, ripping it open to see past any fucking armor you wore to your bare fucking bones. Arthur watched her, his eyes greedy as he took in what he thought she looked like, what she showed the world. I knew better. I knew what beauty lay beneath that façade she’d created. Her eyes were of the bluest skies high above Dublin on a warm summer day, hair as wild as the flowers and mixed with red hues as wild and untamed as she was. This beautiful storm of woman, she was of druids of the ancient Celtic warriors, Knights of the Isle of Sky, and this beautiful mess was created of both, and yet she was neither. She was older than both, designed to be the embodiment of grace and beauty, to lure men to their deaths.

  I listened as she spoke, enjoying the sass of her words and the light brogue of her homeland. A homeland embedded in her so deeply that it couldn’t be separated from her soul. Arthur was so busy staring at the illusion that he missed the way her voice went higher as she lied. I snorted as I rubbed my hand down my face and waited for him to move away. The moment he did, she turned, staring right at me.

  “Erie,” I murmured, cocky asshole on the outside, a fucking mess inside knowing tonight we fight. She and I, we had history, but however she felt about me, I couldn’t let it stop what was coming. She didn’t want it, I get it. Monsters had to be caged. The one I’d taken within me was no different. It needed me as much as I needed it, and we needed her. Like I said, we had fucking history. “Does Arthur need your assistance, or do you just get off on sending men to their untimely demise?”

  I drank in the scent of wildflowers that clung to her body. It was a scent that drove me insane at night after I’d watched her fight or worked with her closely. This wisp of a girl was a spitfire as a child, but as a woman…as a woman, she was unmatched in beauty or mind. She was a force that had no equal. Her eyes narrowed, watching me for any sign of danger because she didn’t trust anyone, and with damn good cause. We’d dropped the ball too many times, and what she’d become was a broken beauty, but those cracks of hers let the light within her shine.

  “The Fae would not dare touch him…too much,” she said with cold indifference. “Play with him, yes. Kill him? No. They have enough war to deal with. I don’t think they’d ignite your wrath as well. You’re all so overdramatic as is. The entire world knows it,” she uttered, devoid of emotion as her shoulders lifted and fell in a halfhearted shrug.

  “You’re a mere girl, Erie. Born of the magic of the cauldron of Dagda to serve us and this world,” I whispered huskily, watching the anger that entered her expressive eyes. Erie pissed was a beautiful thing, but Erie irate made my dick ache to know how she fucked. I backed off years ago, knowing her adventure into womanhood was hers and hers alone to take. She’d earned it. I’d known my time would come, but now that had changed, and events wouldn’t allow me to give her the time she needed.

  “I serve no man,” she said, a grin lifting those sweet lips that I wanted to taste. That smile was all bite and no sweetness. Fuck if it didn’t coil a need that I knew I’d sate soon enough.

  She stared me down, her eyes heated as she slowly let that heady gaze of hers drop, and I watched her looking over every inch of me. I grinned wickedly as her pupils dilated, her spine arched seductively, and fucking hell, I wanted to bend her over and make her mine, right here. Right fucking here, with the entire world watching us as I made her mine. We stood in place so fucking long that nothing around us registered. Me, a fucking Knight that had never been caught off guard or distracted, until her. I’d been a Knight since before this land we stood on even existed or was known of. Her eyes got stuck on my neck, sliding over it like a caress that I felt all the way to my balls. Swallowing hard, I refrained from doing what I really wanted to do.

  “Do you like what you see, Erie?”

  “You are rather pretty,” she hissed as she admitted she liked me, but I already knew that. I’d caught her stealing glances before, watching me with a curiosity that made me ache to let her explore it further. Not that she would have been ready, which was why I let her be until I knew she was. Every time I’d requested her to come on a mission with me, those pretty cobalt blue eyes of hers found me in the crowd and eye-fucked me until I had the world’s bluest balls. Her tongue snaked out, licking over her full bottom lip as her head tilted to the side. “What do you want from me; I know you didn’t just happen to be around the area, so what do you want?” Her eyes moved down to her hand, studying her uneven nails. She didn’t understand chemistry, because if she did, she’d have that answer figured out already. She tended to get nervous around me, and it was sexy as hell, but the way her eyes sized me up, she wasn’t finding me lacking, and I damn sure didn’t want to disappoint her there.

  “You are aware of the prophecy for which you were created.” I stepped closer to her, invading her personal space as her nostrils flared with my scent, one she’s familiar with and yet refused to remember. “Your time is near. You will be mine whether you like it or not. It’s time we do our parts to protect our people.” I continued talking as I backed her up until she was pressed against the wall of the abandoned brick building. “Them or me, Erie,” I growled huskily, unable to hide the lust that slipped free with the words I spoke. “If you’re mine, they’ll never touch you. I will lead them all one day; they respect me. You’re running out of time, and they are running out of patience. Are you aware of what Arthur seeks tonight?” Fucking shit comes out all wrong when I’m this close to her; as if I’m some fucking youth trying to slip into her panties. She had a way of getting under my skin, making me unhinged by her true beauty, and the history we shared that she was oblivious to.

  “He seeks the witch’s cauldron,” she snapped as she shoved me away from her. Erie doesn’t like people up close to her, or to be touched. It drove me insane knowing why she was like that, knowing I didn’t protect her from it.
It was a failure that haunted me every fucking morning that I woke up knowing it.

  “Wrong. He seeks an amulet we created long ago. One that controls the free will of those who wear it,” I corrected as I was forced to turn to continue watching her as she prepared to dart away if she needed to in a hurry. Erie had the highest sense of self-preservation of anyone I’d ever encountered, and she was not wrong to use it. There was a damn good reason she should fear my intentions, and did.

  “So what, he can get some free will of his own? We both know he could use some.”

  “That’s not how it works. It doesn’t give free will, it takes it away. He was told to retrieve it so that it can be placed around your pretty little neck. As I have said, they’re done waiting. They want to make you into an incubator, Erie. With that trinket, they can do it, and you’d never be the wiser.”

  She shivered minutely, her pupils responding to her fear, and I wanted to rip Arthur’s spine out for instilling it in her years ago. The words slipped over her harshly with no comfort to give her. No pretty lie to make this anything but what it was. Her fate was tied to mine; it had been since before she’d ever drawn air into those lungs from which she breathed. The only way to ease what was about to happen was to help her through it. To offer that which she was afraid to crave: me.

  “You could be mine, carry my sons, and remain at my side as my queen, little one,” I said softly as my fingers trailed through my hair in frustration that had no outlet. My eyes captured hers with a silent plea in their depths. I watched her closely as the darkness inside of me peered out, taking her in. It didn’t see her glamour; it knew she’s wild and beautiful. He showed me what they’d done to her because he’d found it beautiful. He’d found it familiar, alluring.

  “They have to catch me first,” she retorted angrily.

  “Arthur called you to him tonight, and what happened? You came. Your mother was from the Templar Order, as pure of blood as my own. In all reality, you should be one of us, but you’re not. You’re a druid; did you never wonder how that happened? You were handed to the druids to be trained and then returned to us when you came of age; you’re of age now. That tattoo on your wrist? I put it there. I placed ink into your flesh to bind us together; you and I, Erie. You were born for a reason, and that was to be mine when the time was right. It’s here now, and so am I, to collect you.”

  “You branded me like cattle?” she demanded, and that flash of betrayal that shone in her eyes coiled in my stomach like a snake ready to strike.

  “I gave you my signet to protect you,” I clarified carefully, even though she wouldn’t catch the gravity of the mark I had given her. “You have my seal, my name on your arm in our language. You’ve worn it since the day you were born. When the witches cursed us, you were created to be our fix that breaks the curse they placed to end our races. Every curse has a fix, and you are ours. If a Knight isn’t born once a century, we cease to exist. We serve the same cause, Erie. Don’t make this harder than it has to be. You won’t ever want for anything. I won’t hurt you as the others may do. I will leave you the use of your mind and that smart mouth of yours.”

  She swallowed a scream that bubbled up, but I sensed it in the way her eyes burned with fire. Blue flames danced within them as her mouth tightened. “When was the last Knight born?” she asked, her chest heaving as the wind kicked up her hair, sending it every which direction, her magic clinging to her. I allowed him to adjust our vision, showing the truth of the beauty before us.

  “Ninety-nine years ago today,” I announced, watching as she flinched and recoiled without noticing she was. I hated the way her eyes burned with rage mixed with hurt, and yet I didn’t regret that she would be mine soon, no, because I’d craved this woman much longer than was healthy for me.

  “I won’t be yours or anyone else’s, Callaghan. This is my life! I’m not something you just claim and then throw away. I’m not even old in druid standards, I’m an infant.”

  “You’re not young anymore, Erie. You’re beautiful; you are ready to do what you were created for. I’ve waited for you to be ready for me. I’ve given you ample time to come into your powers, and you have,” I returned softly, silk lacing every word as I watched her to be able to judge when she was going to attack, because this was Erie, the girl had two settings: Fight or flight, and she tended to lean towards the former more often than not.

  She turned around, closing her eyes against the emotions that overwhelmed her. When I stepped closer, closing the distance between us, she turned, staring into my eyes before smiling coldly. Pain assaulted me as I stared down between us, glaring at the dagger she’d stuck between my ribs, straight into my heart. I glared into those pretty blue eyes as the woad on her face was lit from the moon above. My hand lifted to touch her beauty, but she stepped away, leaving me to drop to my knees in the trash-laden street.

  “I won’t be yours or anyone else’s incubator, asshole,” she snapped as she withdrew the blade and stepped away. Her eyes snapped back to mine over her shoulder, as if she didn’t know whether to do more or leave me on these streets to rot. She should have done more because now the beast within wanted to play hide-and-seek with her. But it wanted to seek that ass out and show it what rough play was.

  Chapter 3

  Erie

  Entering my apartment, I slid my shoes off at the door and opened the freezer to allow my roommate some fresh air. He snarled, and I smirked as I addressed him coolly, pushing the flesh of the dead human I’d buried on my way back here between his lips. Mouth full of the dead, he sputtered and spit it out. I frowned as I placed my hands onto my hips and glared at the head that was propped up by thick ice cubes.

  “I had to cut that off a corpse, Fred. You need to eat,” I suggested as I jumped on the counter and stared him down crossly. My eyes dropped to the crest and name on my wrist, and I became restless. “It may help that sour disposition you have.”

  “I have no stomach, woman! Remember, you left it behind.”

  “Semantics, you can still eat, right?” I asked as I jumped off the counter and started pacing. I was agitated, unhinged by the asshole who wanted to claim me. When Fred refused to answer and just continued to glare at me, I shrugged. “I have a problem,” I uttered as I faced him.

  “I don’t care,” he retorted.

  “How long can you survive like this?” I returned offhandedly.

  “Forever,” he snapped angrily.

  “So if I were to go missing, you’d be okay here until I got back?” I asked, knowing that sooner or later, Mason Callaghan would catch me.

  “Free me, and then you won’t have to worry about it,” he offered.

  “Not happening, Fred. You and me, we’re friends.”

  “I hate you, woman. You’re the furthest thing from a friend to me, and you’re insane. You cut my fucking head off! Remember?”

  “You should eat, you’re hangry. I need to shower and remove the feel of Templar and his blood from my flesh. I’ll be back, don’t go anywhere,” I said, listening as his foul mouth started up. The things a girl had to do to get a friend these days. I was sure he’d come around, eventually. The moment the freezer door closed, I was back to pacing aimlessly in my front room.

  The Christmas tree in the corner was no more than a car air-freshener. But it wasn’t like there’d be any gifts to put under an actual tree, so it worked for me. I’d stolen lights from downtown, which now blinked on and off, basking the room in a soft, colorful glow. The couch in the corner was scuffed up, but it had been that way when I’d discovered it here eons ago. Pictures of a happy couple covered the walls, which were painted a lighter shade of grey than I’d have chosen myself. I preferred all things dark because I was sure that if I had a soul, it was black and lifeless.

  Moving into the bedroom, I stripped out of the blood-stained clothes that served as proof that I’d murdered Callaghan. Not that he’d actually die,
but wishful thinking and all that jazz. Water dripped from the other room, reminding me that a hot bath awaited my aching bones. Abandoning the bedroom for the bathroom, I exhaled the pang of regret that entered my mind, clenching my heart in a vise. I added lavender to the bath and watched as the water fizzled.

  Callaghan was a bastard, but the others who wanted me? The others wouldn’t care if I liked it, wouldn’t care if it killed me, as long as it added to their lifespan. Was his offer so bad? Yes! I wasn’t theirs to control or to be used for their purpose. My magic depended on them, but it didn’t mean I had to do anything. Shit, my life depended on this happening, and I still didn’t agree on it being done. Period.

  Pulling my hair up, I placed it in a messy bun. I eyed the mirror, taking in the new bruises I’d gotten this week already, and it was only Sunday. Slowly, I stepped into the scalding water and inhaled the calming scent of freshly plucked lavender that calmed my soul. Sitting, I watched as the water rushed out of the tub, covering the floor in a mess.

  Whispering a spell under my breath, I watched as more colorful bubbles filled the tub and flowed over the edges to join the growing mess already on the floor. The earthy scents of lavender and magic eased the chaos that ran rampant through my thoughts. Leaning my head back against the porcelain tub, I closed my eyes and gave in to exhaustion.

  I awoke in a chilled tub, my eyelids heavy as I sat up and peered at the shadows. A growl rumbled from deep inside my chest as I sat forward, pulling my knees to my chest as I covered my breasts and glared at the shadows that moved.

 

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