On your forehead, doofus. It’s not a big deal. Chill. Don’t make this into something it isn’t.
But what if it was something? Maybe not a big deal, but something at least. Because Matthew didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would just go around kissing random people. Unlike Flynn…
Thinking about Flynn and his earlier outburst ruined my temporarily restored good mood, and I angrily pulled the blankets on top of me.
“Thanks for bringing me blankets,” I said to Eleanor.
“Do they help?” she asked while she crawled into her own bed, on the opposite end of the room.
“They do,” I replied, yawning. The exhaustion I felt ever since I took down the Pumpkin Man made me drift toward the land of dreams at the rate of a freight train.
“Liv…” Eleanor said suddenly, interrupting my fast trip to dreamland. “I know you’re probably really tired, and cold, but before we go to sleep, I just wanted to say one thing.”
“What’s… that?” I asked, in-between yawns.
“That you were pretty awesome when you jumped in front of the headmistress, and when you started shooting magic bolts at that monster.”
A smile played on my lips, and even though my eyes were too tired to open them, I had the faint idea that Eleanor was smiling as well. “You really think so?”
“Yep.”
I heard Eleanor clicking off the light switch, flooding the room in darkness.
“Goodnight, Liv,” my new roommate said.
Lying in the darkness and drifting off to sleep, I realized that despite what had happened, maybe my first day at All Hallows Academy hadn’t been so terrible after all. I had met a bunch of new people, including Eleanor, and I was starting to like her already.
And one of my new acquaintances had even kissed me on the forehead.
I slowly lifted my hand to my forehead, feeling the exact spot where Matthew’s lips had touched my skin. I knew it was foolish, maybe even childish, but I couldn’t help but grin at the memory.
“Goodnight, Eleanor,” I said before I pulled the covers over my face.
I had survived the First Day of Halloween, and maybe the Second Day of Halloween wouldn’t be half as bad as I feared.
Find More of Majanka Verstraete
Website: http://majankaverstraete.com
Find out what happens next in:
All Hallows Academy: Thirteen Days of Halloween – Episode Two
Other Books
See All Evil (Academy for the Wicked #1)
Symphony of the Departed (Allegro Academy #1)
The Soul Thief (Angel of Death Series #1)
Demonic Pact (Angel of Death Series #2)
A Study in Shifters (The Adventures of Marisol Holmes #1)
The Sign of the Serpent (The Adventures of Marisol Holmes #2)
The Wolf of the Baskervilles (The Adventures of Marisol Holmes #3)
The Conclave of Fear (The Adventures of Marisol Holmes #4)
Wicked Blood (Blood Witch Series #1)
About the Author
Majanka Verstraete studied law and criminology, and now works as Legal Counsel. Writing is her passion ever since she learned how to read.
She writes about all things supernatural, her books ranging from children’s picture books to young adult novels, all the way to new adult academy and reverse harem books.
Check out her website for more information about her current series and her upcoming projects: http://majankaverstraete.com
Dark Angel by L.A. McGinnis
Copyright L.A. McGinnis 2020
All rights reserved
Editor: Arran at Editing720
Cover Design: Janus Designs
ISBN-13: 978-1-970112-27-6
About
Death has never looked so good.
Growing up, bad luck followed me around like a puppy. Turns out it wasn’t a puppy at all. I was born with a death curse on my head, and despite my best efforts at self-containment, I’ve left a trail of bodies behind me.
But now a group of sexy strangers has lured me in with promises of safety and protection, and after a lifetime on the run, I might be curious enough to stop. At least long enough to hear the truth about what I am.
And what I can do.
Chapter One
Don't miss your opportunity to get a F*R*E*E book from L.A when you reach the end of this collection. Watch for the Reader Magnets links!
Catherine
Tonight, my lover came to me like warm breath on a cold wind, gliding practiced hands along my body, his warm lips following every caress of his long, clever fingers. I couldn’t see his face, only the top of his dark head as he sucked my nipple, pressing down slightly with his teeth.
I hissed, the sudden, edgy pain ratcheting me higher than anything gentle would have.
“Please,” I said, praying he’d give me what I wanted without me saying the words. He yanked off the covers, flipped me over onto my stomach, wound his arm beneath my hips and pulled me up to my knees. He came up behind me, his thighs pressed my legs apart until I was spread wide for him, then he wound his hand in my hair and held my face against the pillow.
“Like this, Catherine?” he asked, his voice a rough purr.
Head spinning, I nodded mutely, anticipating his intrusion. Most nights, he made me wait, shuddering with need while he teased and tortured, only giving me what I wanted when I was ready to beg. Tonight, I prayed he’d hurry things up a bit. “Yes.”
I managed only the one word before he pushed into me, opening my legs even wider in the process, until I was completely exposed to him. His hand increased the pressure on the back of my skull, while he pushed in slowly, stopping only when I was unbearably full. A tongue licked at my lips, and I opened my mouth to let it probe leisurely inside my mouth; he kissed me until my mouth opened as wide as my legs.
“Kiss him back, Catherine. Let me see you.”
At his husky order, my eyes flew open in surprise, and I saw it wasn’t my lover kissing me at all. It was a man whose elegant face was framed by curly blond hair.
My unseen lover flipped me to my back, hooked his arms beneath my knees and drove himself into me to the hilt. “Kiss him, Catherine.” Dark eyes sparkled as the blond gently cupped my face and took my mouth again, his tongue delving deeply. “That’s it, let me watch you both together.” With a groan, my lover pushed deeper inside, lifting my knees over his shoulders as he thrust again.
Half dazed, I swung my head to the other side as a tight, coiling heat rippled through my belly. I was so…close. Another mouth claimed mine, and this time the kiss was accompanied by the rough tickle of a beard, while a calloused hand flicked my other nipple, a hot flash of sensation knifing through me. This man was ruggedly handsome, his face half covered in a dark beard, laugh lines spreading out from his forest-green eyes.
I turned my head back to the blond with the dancing eyes as my faceless lover thrust into me once more. But the blond was gone, and in his place was an angel. Like, an actual one. Even overwhelmed by the combination of tongues and hands and heady delights, I glimpsed wings behind him, their shadowy outlines almost filling the small room.
Before I could rationalize why an angel was here, he invaded my mouth, our tongues grappling wildly, not giving me time to breathe, but in truth, I didn’t need air. This was what I needed, to be filled so much I couldn’t breathe, to be overwhelmed by sensation, to be possessed by…all of them.
Breaking the angel’s kiss, I reached out and hooked my hand around the bearded man’s nape, drawing him closer, and he did not disappoint. His practiced tongue delved in deeper, tangling with mine, never pausing as he kissed me. I reached out my other hand and found the angel, guiding him to my breast, savoring the warm suction as he sucked my nipple into his mouth, pure pleasure rolling through me while the blond sat back and watched us with hooded eyes.
My lover was pounding into me now, the slap of flesh against flesh growing louder, my climax clawing its way up out of me. Eve
ry muscle tightened up, my back arching up off the bed, fireworks sparking on my eyelids as I came. I screamed into the bearded man’s mouth, my body shuddering so violently that my muscles seized up, a fiery pain rippling from my calf.
Chapter Two
Catherine
Massaging my aching leg, I squinted through the darkness at the old digital clock, just for shits and giggles.
For as long as I could remember, I always woke at the same time, and this morning wasn’t any different. Four a.m. And so it continues, I thought, throwing an arm across my face while I fell back onto my twin bed.
This latest dream had been a doozy, but I was too tired to ponder the addition of three new guys into my semi-regular booty-call wet dream. If I was lucky, I’d sleep for a few more hours and wake up feeling refreshed. Maybe even continue my sexy-times dream. Or I could roll around until the blankets were twisted tightly around me so I couldn’t move and I was exhausted.
Yes, let’s do that instead, my brain said.
I was relieved when the sun lit up my rented room and I had an excuse to stop pretending to sleep. Rubbing the sand out of my eyes, I yanked on some nearly clean, grease-scented clothes and headed into work. Downtown Amblin was empty this morning, and the air was cooler than normal for South Carolina in October, due to an upper-level trough coming out of the northeast. Or so said the weatherman this morning.
Smith’s Corner, the little homestyle restaurant where I waitressed, wasn’t technically open, but there was still a lot to accomplish before the lunch rush, and it appeared Sam wasn’t in yet. I was just walking the last tray of salads into the cooler when the boss himself showed up, dark circles beneath his eyes and stubble covering his face. “Beat me in again. I swear, Cat, you must never sleep.”
I grinned and began lining up cupcakes in the glass display. These were iced in bright orange, decorated with spiders and witch’s hats, although Halloween was still two days away. “Well, well, if it isn’t Sam Smith.” I searched for something pithy to say. “I sleep plenty, but you, on the other hand…” I waggled my eyebrows at the boss I’d grown rather attached to. “Just kidding. Were you and Marsha partying all night?”
“Most of the night. Was at the hospital until a few hours ago.” He began tossing potatoes into the peeler. “Don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t opened up. I could barely get out of bed this morning.”
“What happened to Marsha? Is she okay?” I asked, watching him carefully.
“It’s not the wife. It’s me.” He paused. “Guess I’d better tell you now. I’ve got cancer.” As always, Sam doled out information in small, easy-to-swallow bites. “Doc said it’s sudden. Never seen nothing like it. Came outta nowhere.”
My stomach plummeted. Sam and Marsha…they’d been together forever. Over forty years and counting. They were high school sweethearts, and her whole world revolved around him.
“Tell you what,” I said, closing the door of the display case. “Go home and catch some Zs. I’ll handle the lunch crowd and take care of the dinner rush. How does that sound?”
The way his face lit up—first in gratitude, then in sadness—made my heart hurt.
“Well, only if you’re sure…?” His face was filled with doubt. Not in my abilities, but for dumping so much on me. He brushed a gnarled hand through his thinning hair. “I gotta admit, I’m exhausted. I’d give my left nut for four hours of sleep.”
“You can keep your nuts, Sam, and get some sleep,” I teased gently. “I have a feeling your wife will have a use for them once you’re better.” The way his face fell, I knew I’d said the wrong thing.
“I…uhm, there’s something else. Doc said I’m stage four, and there’s no treatments that’ll work on the sort I’ve got. A month, maybe. We talked about hospice, and I signed the papers. Even the kids are on board, and the place…it’s kinda nice.” His voice broke at the very end, and he turned away from me.
“Oh shit. I’m sorry, Sam. I wish I had…” I bit my tongue. …never met you was what I was about to say. But for Sam, that wouldn’t make any sense. Why was it the only people I hurt were the ones I’d grown attached to?
Death followed me everywhere, and Amblin wasn’t any different.
“Go home. Sleep. Don’t worry about this place today. Just take care of yourself.” I put a steadying hand on his shoulder and pushed him gently toward the door. Somehow, twenty-five-year-old me ordering around sixty-year-old Sam didn’t seem odd at all. Especially when he left without any argument, his wide shoulders slumping.
Fear reached up and squeezed my heart until I thought it would burst. This was all my fault. Sam’s dying wasn’t the result of bad living, poor diet or environmental conditions. His death was on me. Ever since I was born, I’d been cursed with some kind of deathly aura. Working together at the diner, from open to close, every day but Sundays… There weren’t enough people in this small town to diffuse my ghastly power. It was no wonder his cancer had come on so quickly.
One thing I knew: no amount of chemo or treatments would stop it now.
The rest of the day was a blur, but fifteen hours after I’d arrived, I flipped the sign and locked the door behind me, leaning my forehead against the glass one final time as I silently said goodbye. Doing some quick mental math, I figured I had two hundred dollars in my pocket and almost a thousand stashed under my bed at the boarding house.
Enough for a bus ticket and setting up in the next town. Enough so I could keep up this charade for a little bit longer. And then what? my little voice nagged. Are you really going to spend the rest of your life on the run, leaving bodies in your wake?
“I’ve only been here for three months,” I protested, looking like a lunatic arguing with myself as I walked down Main Street. “It’s never happened this quickly before.”
You’re getting stronger, the voice said slyly.
And soon, there won’t be anywhere left for you to run.
Chapter Three
Catherine
I left the next morning on the first Greyhound.
Two things would happen once I was gone: I’d call Sam in a few days and apologize for leaving so abruptly, and then he’d tell me he was already in hospice. I’d cry while he told me this, wishing I’d never stopped in Amblin. Second, I’d be working through my first day as a new waitress in some small, local diner, staying away from anyone I might accidently kill.
You might say, Sure, everyone dies sometime—but add me to the mix and I’m like arsenic and cyanide with a dose of plutonium. Nothing good comes of me being around.
The bus was only partially full, and any other time, I would have fallen asleep with the vehicle’s gentle rocking. But right now, all I could do was obsess about the path that had brought me here, and the one still stretching out in front of me. It seemed every day brought fewer and fewer options. One of these days, I’d run of them out completely.
I don’t know what I am. I don’t know why I’m like this.
I only know I’ve left a trail of bodies behind me, always wondering why this was happening.
After I was born, it took me ten whole years to kill my mother. Another two before I ended my father’s life. My first foster parent lasted a whole three years, and my second? Only two years. That was when I got the bright idea to take my show on the road at seventeen, and I’d been running for eight years now. At first, I stayed in each place for a year, almost long enough to get comfortable. A few years later, it became six months, and now, three months was apparently my limit.
What would I do when my time was down to weeks? Or days? I imagined myself walking through a city, people dropping dead at the sight of me. With a shudder, I cursed my overactive imagination.
To make an impossible situation even more complicated, I’d picked up a stalker.
I leaned out into the aisle and stared—covertly, I hoped—at the hooded man two seats ahead of me. He’d come into the diner last night, just before we closed. Once he ordered his coffee, he sat at the linoleum bar until t
he head cook kicked him out. This morning, he was waiting at the same bus stop as me. Coincidence? I think not.
The passenger next to me shifted, his head falling against the window with a clunk, before he began snoring. It didn’t bother me. I’d never had a car—didn’t even know how to drive—so I was used to bus travel. Besides, it was only for a few hours. Only death and uncertainty lay ahead of me. Not the most encouraging combination for a bright future, and I was in no hurry to get there.
Out of the corner of my eye I watched my assumed stalker carefully for any suspicious movements. Granted, with a loose black hoodie pulled low over his face, there wasn’t much to see, but I couldn’t ignore the crushing, otherworldly presence seeping from him. It felt vast and empty and made my insides turn to jelly, being this close.
I recognized that unearthly presence because I possessed something similar. My eerie strangeness was what made kids point and stare and call me names. At one time or another in my life, I’d heard every insult, which was why nothing surprised me anymore.
Oh, Cat, you’re so intense or You make the hairs on the back of my neck go up. Or my personal favorite: Get away from me, you freak.
Yeah, if I had a dollar for every time I’d heard that, I’d be rich. The fact was that I was different from everyone else. While adults mostly ignored me, keeping my oddity secret from other kids was harder. The one thing I did know was if anyone discovered what I was, I’d end up in a nuthouse, which was probably even worse than foster care. And while Mom and Dad’s early demises prevented them from telling me anything useful about my strange curse, I got wise after my second foster mother died.
And the school counselor, and my pediatrician. Never say I’m not a fast learner.
A Cursed All Hallows' Eve Page 38