by Nikki Landis
Box Set
#1 Black Magic Voodoo
#2 Toil & Trouble
#3 Witching Hour
#4 Third Eye Blind
Copyright © 2020 Nikki Landis
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover by Victoria Cooper Art
Edited by Kathy Denver, iPublishGlobal
Table of Contents:
Black Magic Voodoo
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
Toil & Trouble
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
Witching Hour
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
Third Eye Blind
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
Epilogue
Salem Witch Families:
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Black Magic Voodoo
Episode 1 – Black Magic Voodoo
…
Cassie Howe is a descendant of one of the famous Salem witches.
Each year Samhain and the festival of the dead marks the new year, an end to the old while embracing the new. As Cassie begins the month-long celebration, she encounters a dark and sinister presence that threatens the balance of her world. Joined by a cast of unlikely heroes, Cassie will confront her darkest fears and seek to find a rogue witch who kills without mercy.
Does Cassie have enough courage to stand up against true evil before it’s too late?
Something wicked this way comes . . .
Chapter 1
October 1st, present time.
“Cassie!”
Like a bullet that exploded from a gun, I bolted upright in bed at the sound of my aunt’s frustrated voice. “Coming!” I yelled back, cringing when I realized the alarm blared an ungodly wail and I never heard it go off. Reaching over and slapping the button on my phone, I sighed loudly.
“Hurry up, luv, I need you to run to the store before we get started.”
Right. All our witchy supplies for spells, incense, etc.
Party time.
It was Samhain. The witches’ New Year. A time when we thanked our ancestors and entered a festival of blessing and gratitude for the next 30 days, culminating in a final celebration equivalent to the Christian holiday of Christmas. Except we were pagans. So, it was a lot darker, sexier, and bloodier.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
After a quick shower I was dressed and ready, happy today was a Friday. No classes and the next two days off before I had to return to the university. I greeted my Aunt Gwen and placed a kiss on her cheek while I strategically snatched the coffee from her outstretched hand. “Morning. Is the list ready?”
“You’re lucky I love you,” she grumbled as I watched her pour another cup of liquid gold. I swear I’d go insane without coffee. How else would I function? I shuddered at the thought of life without caffeine.
“What’s on the agenda today? Are we making cider and Soul Cakes?”
Taking a sip of my coffee, my eyes wander over my aunt’s petite frame. She was my mother’s only sister, but they looked nothing alike. Gwen was fair and pale with piercing green eyes and a curvy figure. I was the exact image of my mother – tall, jet black hair to my waist, and slender. My silvery gray eyes were from my father along with the caramel complexion. That was the end of my parent’s contribution.
My uniqueness came from the multitude of tattoos I had on my body. My ink was my pride and joy, and I spent a lot of good money on artists who knew what they were doing. I had full sleeves on both arms, a mural of large black angel wings on my back with violet accents, and several others including various skulls and black roses. There was no color except for those violet hints on my back. I preferred the simple look of black on my complexion since it showed off the quality of the ink.
“Yes, of course,” Aunt Gwen replied, “I want to cast a spell of protection on our first night and we have to contact the ancestors.”
I nodded in agreement. Samhain had been the same for the last twenty years of my life. Nothing new. “Apples for the candles?”
“Oh, I nearly forgot. Add those to the list. I hope I didn’t forget any of the herbs.”
Aunt Gwen was always a bit distracted, constantly focused on the next task before she completed the first one. I loved her flighty and outgoing personality. Without her, I would have been lost. “Well, I’m off to the market. If I notice anything else missing, I’ll pick it up,” I teased.
“Don’t give me shit, Cas. I’m amazing and I let you have my coffee,” she joked.
“Point made,” I conceded. “I’ll be back soon.” I slid the empty coffee mug into the sink and bumped her hip with mine before I slipped my bag across my waist and headed outdoors.
The weather was typical for this time of year – cooler misty mornings that warmed up into pleasant afternoons. The leaves were beginning to change colors while the crisp breeze hinted at the smell of pumpkin, apples, cinnamon, and spices. Lingering in the air was the anticipation of celebration mixed with an undercurrent of devilish intent. Sheer perfection.
The weather was so inviting that I skipped the short drive and decided to walk to Kimball’s. It was one of the few local businesses that still thrived in this town. Mystic Hallows wasn’t a large city by any means, but it was definitely full of the same generations of old money. Families that had been here for hundreds of years which meant mostly everyone knew everyone else. I grew up with the same people, so when someone new rolled into town I immediately recognized a new face.
Like right now.
> Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome bumped into me in the dairy aisle of Kimball’s. I’d like to think it was an accident, but I saw his mischievous green gaze as it landed on my body at least ten minutes before he got up the nerve and approached me. Or maybe he was just making sure I noticed him. Under the guise of being lost and not watching where he was going, he literally smacked right into me, forcing my body to pitch forward.
“Woah, pet, careful now,” he cautioned as I tipped right into his arms.
Pet? Laying my best frown in his direction, I untangled my limbs from his rock-hard body. Yeah, I noticed. He was like chiseled granite, muscles perfectly formed that molded into my frame with alarming ease. “I’m nobody’s pet.”
His wide grin showcased a set of perfectly white teeth – including the fangs.
Shit. Another immortal.
Mystic Hallows drew them in like a moth to a flame.
This wasn’t some alternate reality where no one was aware of supernatural beings and yet they roamed the streets every single damn day. No, immortals were a part of society. It was nothing new. Humans mixed with the paranormal since before Salem, especially the old families in Mystic Hallows. The most prominent being the original thirteen witches executed for witchcraft during the Salem Witch Trials.
There was a lot of magic and monsters that mixed together in this town.
Mayhem was a part of life – especially during the festival of the dead.
The vampire must have sensed my apprehension. “Damian Rockcastle, at your service,” he introduced, bowing slightly at the waist and ticking his chin up slightly in a mock salute. “Pleased to meet you, pet.”
Something about him felt off.
Maybe he used compulsion or another trick on me, but I blocked any attempt before he would gain control. His use of the word pet annoyed me. I wasn’t some simple female to fall at his feet in adoration. The bloodsucker would figure that out quick enough.
I didn’t dignify his obvious attempt to rile me up. Damian was predictable from the start, a little too cocky and darkly attractive, brooding and flirtatious, and I couldn’t resist the smirk on my face. He was eyeing me like his next treat which was more than a little disconcerting. “Cassie,” I blurted, while trying extremely hard not to roll my eyes, “and I’ve enough to do today so I’m not accepting whatever invitation you’re handing out. Excuse me, I have a busy day ahead.”
Damian let me pass but I knew for certain that I would see him again, probably much sooner than I wanted. Mystic Hallows was a sort of supernatural hot spot. Immortals of every type flocked here and were lured in by the sleepy town and quaint surroundings. Tucked below a mass of mountainous peaks, the city rested in a valley of plush green trees and sweet breezes, complete with several prominent and well-known haunted houses and cemeteries. Mystic Hallows has been on more than one paranormal investigation show. We were listed in the top fifty most haunted and needed to visit locations in the world.
So, I wasn’t all that surprised to meet the vampire. This time of year – the annual festival of Samhain and the dead – naturally increased the number of those who wanted to experience the thinning of the veil and all of the angst that accompanied the holiday. For us witches, it was a month-long celebration where we painted our faces with skulls, honored our ancestors and the spirit world, and hosted various activities and parties. We burned a lot of candles and spoke so many incantations that I swear I probably did them in my sleep.
Struggling to hold onto the five bags of ingredients, herbs, and candles for Aunt Gwen, I nearly dropped it all when my cell phone began to ring loudly and echoed in the street. The early morning hadn’t roused many of my neighbors, so it was fairly abandoned. Now that I thought about it, the sunshine should have prevented the vampire from approaching me.
Odd. I’d return to that mystery later.
“Hey sweets,” I greeted my cousin as I balanced the heavy bags and began to cross the street, “I was going to call you in a few minutes.”
“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling for hours!”
Gypsy – don’t ask me why my aunt and uncle named her that – was asleep when I left the house this morning. Glancing at my phone, I noticed about a half dozen missed calls, but I never heard the phone ring while I shopped. Strange.
Maybe the vampire worked his mumbo jumbo after all.
“Why aren’t you in class, Gyps?” She was a senior in high school and absolutely hated being reminded of her age. “I’m not taking you to the party tonight if you ditch again.”
I heard mumbling and groaning and a few mild curses on the line before her voice softened and she answered, “Cas, come on. It’s the first day of Samhain. How can I possibly be expected to attend school and miss all the fun?”
She had a point, but I didn’t want her skipping classes. Although my aunt and uncle weren’t super strict, they still expected both of us to graduate. Me, from college. Gyps, from high school. I’d taken Gypsy under my wing since I was young and I protected her, felt responsible for her in ways that I couldn’t explain. Maybe losing my parents when I was little made me latch onto those I loved and cared about a little tighter than most. Who knew?
“Gyps, I’ll let you slide tonight, but I swear if you try to skip any more this month –”
I was cut off by excited squeals and a high-pitched string of words that I couldn’t comprehend because the phone would cut out every two seconds. My ear protested the loud noises and I pulled the cell away momentarily in an effort to keep the ability to hear.
“Listen, babe, I’m almost home so we oof,” I exhaled as I slammed into a solid body. My phone clattered to the ground as I glanced up, way up, at the chiseled features of the dark god in front of me.
The battery popped out of the cell the second it landed – effectively ending my call with Gypsy. At the same moment I lost hold of my bags and tumbled a step backward, strong muscular arms shot out and enveloped my waist, preventing a nasty fall. Half the groceries began to spill out of the bags, but I didn’t care. My eyes were locked on the brilliant blue irises of the striking man in front of me.
His deep voice rumbled my chest. “Sorry, sweetness. I didn’t mean to knock you over.”
I blinked. That was it. No words could form in my throat.
He chuckled. “Allow me, Ms.?”
“Cassie,” I managed to whisper. I couldn’t remember the last time I was rendered speechless by a guy.
“Let me help you with these, Cassie.” He bent down and began to reload the bags before he placed the battery back in my phone and slapped it lightly into my palm. “Why don’t I carry these? Seems a bit much for you to handle.” His eyes crinkled with humor as he oozed sex appeal.
This man was a wet dream. Ever see Magic Mike? Or watch the show True Blood? He was an almost exact copy of Joe Manganiello. The thought made me hot, and not in temperature.
“It seems only fair that I know your name now.” I flirted shamelessly and more than a little obvious as his grin widened.
“Gabriel Alton,” he purred, his hand held out, shaking mine before he placed his lips on my wrist in a feather light kiss. So quickly I almost imagined it, he pressed his nose to my skin and inhaled. Those blue eyes pierced mine as he flashed a dashing smile. “Live close, sweetness?”
“Not far,” I admitted, and walked toward Howe Manor.
We fell into easy conversation about Samhain and the upcoming festival as we approached my home. He didn’t seem to have trouble with small talk. The man intrigued me. Okay, he was a wonderful distraction. Gabriel’s eyes widened when we reached the black wrought iron gates that surrounded the vast property and the towering gothic décor of the manor.
“You live here?”
I nodded. “Yes, Howe Manor has been in my family for a long time. Ever since –”
“The Salem Witch Trials,” he interrupted. “I remember.”
Shit. Another immortal. I should have realized no human ever looks that good. Not to mention he sniffed
me. Gabriel had to be a shifter of some kind.
“Hmm, what brings you to Mystic Hallows, immortal?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest as Gabriel lowered the bags of groceries inside the gate. They rested on the crumpled leaves and damp ground as he straightened, shoving his hands into his jean pockets.
“Listen, I didn’t realize you were the Howe, okay? I should have asked for clarification on your name. Doesn’t really matter now, just know that you’ve got company.”
What the fuck?
“I have no idea what you’re referring to or why it matters. My mother was the Howe, not me.”
He narrowed his eyes and shook his head, more than a little flustered. “She’s gone . . . that honor is now yours.”
“Listen, Gabriel, I don’t know why you’re here, but I’m nothing special. My Aunt Gwen –”
Gabriel’s face lit up at the mention of my aunt. Really?
“Gwen is here?” Without an answer he scooped up the grocery bags and strode right past me as he approached the front door and called out in a loud, goofy voice, “Gwen, get your cute ass out here!”
“Gabe?” I heard my aunt answer with a loud shriek.
He dropped the bags as his grin widened. The front door was flung open a few seconds later as my aunt ran down the stairs and into Gabriel’s open arms. No shit. It was like a Hallmark commercial. “Gwen, you look as amazing as ever!”
Her laugh sounded so unlike Aunt Gwen, younger and carefree in a way that let me know she was quite familiar with Gabriel Alton. Shit. My aunt fucked the immortal . . . and by the looks of it, she liked it. A lot.
Gabriel released my aunt as she stepped back and admired him from head to toe. I couldn’t fault her that. I’d have done the same. “You’ve not aged a day. Where have you been all these years?”
His expression sobered while he ran a hand through his dark hair and tousled the strands. “I needed time. You know that.” His gaze shot in my direction briefly before returning to Gwen. “We all needed the break.”
What was that about?
“Yes,” Aunt Gwen agreed, watching him closely. “I agree, but now you’re back.” She smiled so wide it was breathtaking. “I’ve really missed you. Wait until Tom sees you. You’re gonna be in a world of shit.”