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About the Author
I'm a NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY Bestselling Author. I'm also Canadian and I slip up on my spelling a lot because we Canucks spell some things differently than Americans or Brits.
I used to have a black lab at my feet when I wrote, warming up the calves. She was a good girl. I miss her. Now it's just a cuppa tea keeping this old gal warm. Maybe someday though...
I love to read, and I love to get inside a character's skin. Writing stories is like reading for me, just much slower.
I call my little ditties, fiction to the left of mainstream because they never truly match up with one perfect genre. Still want a label? I got em. Urban Fantasy, Historical Fantasy, LitFic with dark themes, grimdark dystopian...But I really just write what I like, and you'll find all of those plus a few more mashed up in there somewhere.
So what will you find in my stories? Wounded people, really. Each one of them struggling their way to the light and peace and self acceptance.
If you like that, you might like my books. It might be easier for you to hear that if you enjoy authors like Dannika Dark or Patricia Briggs, that slipping into the skin of one of my characters might be something worth trying.
But I'll leave that to you.
"What a fantastic read! I was so drawn in by this book that I couldn’t put it down until the very end. I love the connection that these two share and how they finally reach their HEA. I felt all of the emotions and cheered for them every step of the way. I can’t wait to read the next book."
Malediction by Erzabet Bishop
Malediction
Curse Workers, Book Two
Published by Naughty Nights Press LLC
http://naughtynightspress.com/
First Print Edition April 2019
Third Digital Edition April 2019
ISBN: 978-1-77357-109-6,
978-1-926514-65-9
Copyright © 2016 Erzabet Bishop
All rights reserved.
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.
No part of this book may be adapted, stored, copied, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
About
It’s witchcraft…
Nestled in the shadowy thoroughfares of Salem, Bridget has created a new life for herself. Saved from the noose by the mysterious Mr. Black during the witch trials, she runs Broomstix, a thriving curse worker and hex shop. Dangerous cravings thrust her back in harm’s way as evil stalks the streets. Will the allure of the forbidden be her curse or her salvation?
Alistair is a wolf caught between desire and duty to his pack. His Alpha goes missing and evidence of arcane magic and murder come a little too close to home. A chance encounter at a Halloween party brings his beast to the forefront and one night of passion leaves him wanting much, much more.
A war is brewing in Salem between the wolves and witch kind. When more deaths are found linked to rogue wolves, the two join forces. But wild magic reigns on Samhain and the moon may just have a mind of her own…
Dedication
To my husband. You inspire me every day of my life. For Taddy. You are the light in my world. For Badger and Spirit. I miss you, my sweet boys. May you both frolic with the angels and get as many bones as your little hearts desire.
Acknowledgements
I want to give a shout out to team NNP and all their hard work. You are a force of nature, Lady G. Here’s to a future filled with celebratory chocolate and as many books as we can create together.
To all the ladies from the Wicked Halloween set. It was a blast. New friends. New adventures. We always have Salem…
Map of Bones
A Curse Workers Prequel
Chapter One
Don't miss your opportunity to get a F*R*E*E book from Erzabet when you reach the end of this collection. Watch for the Reader Magnets links!
“You know, if you stay like that long enough, one of the boys is going to think you’re one of the mail room owls.” Cynthia twirled her long black hair around her finger and smirked. She smoothed her hands down her sweater and snagged her tablet off the desk.
Merryn ruffled her feathers and transformed back to human form, a scowl on her lips. “Bitch. This isn’t Hogwarts.”
Cynthia shrugged, picking up her books. “I only speak the truth. Come on. Professor Jenkins doesn’t care if you transform twenty times. If you can’t do it in front of the class next Tuesday for the exam, you’re toast.”
“I know…” Merryn sighed. “Why didn’t I go to a college with a normal curriculum? What’s so bad about accounting? Or even a business class?”
A corner of Cynthia’s mouth twitched. “Um. Let’s see. You’re a witch, maybe? And why would you ever want to? Montelier is a good school. Hell, it’s the only school on the east coast. You should be happy.”
Merryn picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I just want a normal life. A job. You know…”
“Normal is boring. And no, you don’t. What about that weird class you’re taking? The one you talked about yesterday. The freaky medical one you said you actually liked?”
“Yeah,” Merryn grimaced. “Alchemy of forensic osteology.”
“That’s a mouthful.”
“I know. Oh, damn.”
“What?”
“I have to run by the lab and grab my notes. We’re studying one of the recent deaths in the shifter stalker case, and I was supposed to have a report in two days.”
“You have to go now? Why don’t you come with me to the bar first? I bet we can pick up a couple of guys and make a night of it.”
“Says you who never failed at anything in her whole undead life,” Merryn snorted. “No. I’m behind already. If I don’t get this paper turned in I’m toast.”
“Huh. I beg to differ. I can’t cast a spell for shit and you know it. I’m just taking this class for the credits.” She gave her a lopsided grin and waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “And the hot teacher.”
“You’re awful.”
“But it’s fun. It keeps me busy and, most importantly, out of Roark’s grand designs of vampire matchmaking.”
“Is he still doing that? How does a Master vampire have the time?”
Cynthia’s nose crinkled. “He never quits. It’s all for the good of the family. Blah, blah, blah. I’m trying to convince Mari to come back. It’s been a few months since the attack.”
Merryn paused. “Wait. Was she the girl that got mauled outside the Copper Kettle a while back?”
“Yup, and now that she’s sort of dating Roark’s bestie, he’s fuming and has relaxed with pawning her off on pimply faced assholes like Jared.”
Merryn paused, a frown spreading across her face. “You mean that guy from Vampire Studies?”
“Unfortunately,” Cynthia replied, her lips curling up into a wicked smile. “Word has it she left him tied up with a pair of her panties in the garden.”
“Oh my God. I wish I could have seen that.”
“You’d have to actually go someplace that isn’t work or school.”
“Did you go?”
“I did.”
“Did you see anything?”
“No. I was too busy talking with the girls and missed it. But, damn, that would have been funny.”
<
br /> “Yeah.” Merryn followed Cynthia into the hall. The last class of the day was over almost an hour ago and the hallways were a ghost town. Most students would be in Salem proper, getting ready for the Halloween festivities. Except her.
“Are you going down to the Psychic Fair?”
“Naw. I thought I’d head over to the library before I go to Broomstix. Well, after I grab my notes anyway.”
“You have to work tonight?”
Merryn shook her head. “I wasn’t supposed to, but Bridget left me a message to drop by before I went home.”
Cynthia brightened. “Maybe she got in some of those cool new witch hats.”
“Leave it to a vampire to say that. I’ll tell her you’re in the market for one. See you later.”
“Ha ha owl girl. Be careful going home.”
“You too.”
Rolling her eyes, Merryn shuffled down the dark hallway, relieved that most of the other students had gone their own way. Built in an old castle, the school was a labyrinthine maze of corridors and classrooms. October was the only time of year it was ever this deserted as most of the students preferred to stay in their paranormal comfort zone and away from the human population. Mostly.
It was forbidden to cross the line and reveal any part of their world to humans. The repercussions were drilled into them since day one in grade school. Which is why Merryn was confused as to the source of the murders.
“Damn it.” Merryn clutched at the pile of spell books perched in her arms and not for the first time that night wished she’d thought to buy a heartier back pack. The strap broke about a third of the way into her day and by the time she reached her potions class, she was wishing she’d paid more attention in Magical Phrases and Incantations. If she had, she might have been able to fix the thing and she wouldn’t be struggling to keep her shit from coming apart all over the hallway.
“Great job, klutz.” She muttered to herself as she knelt down and stuffed a chart of elemental correlations back inside what was left of the bag. Merryn cinched it shut and grumbled, snapping her mouth shut when she heard the scuffle of hard soled shoes just ahead.
“It doesn’t make sense. What reason would there be for the markings to be there?” Professor Wexler hissed to an unseen person in a long dark cloak. “We have to go to the Protectorate with this at once.”
“No.” The voice boomed through the abandoned corridor. “I want more tests. Inconclusive information will bring every paranormal house down on us like a pack of jackals. We must use caution.”
Their voices drifted away and Merryn swallowed, thankful they hadn’t seen her in the shadowy hall. One step in the opposite direction and would have exposed her. To be found wandering the corridor without a good reason after hours wouldn’t get her in good graces with Professor Wexler. Not at all.
Merryn got to her feet, scurrying to the door of the classroom. She flew inside and shut the door behind her, locking it instantly. The lab was deserted, stainless steel tables covered in white sheets just where the class left them. Which one were they looking at?
Everything looked the same. Merryn meandered among the tables trying to tell which sheet had been displaced. At the far and of the classroom she found her answer. The sheet was rumbled, some of the bones carelessly exposed. Merryn approached the table, and nibbled on her bottom lip. She wiped her hands on her jeans, the knot in her stomach growing with each step.
She started to touch the sheet, but instead whipped out her phone, aiming her camera at the mussed covering. It wouldn’t do for them to know she’d been here. At least this way she could get everything back in order before they got back.
Merryn laid her phone down, wiped her palms on her jeans and swallowed.
With careful fingertips, she peeled back the covering, gazing down at the selection of bleached bones. They were laid out much as a body would be, matched and documented by number on the paper tray laid out beneath them. A clipboard sat on the corner of the table and they left without putting the specimen back like they were supposed to.
What were they talking about? Why were they so upset?
God. Were they coming back?
Merryn moved down just a little bit more, her hands shaking. She couldn’t be caught here. If she was smart, she’d grab her notes and go. But then something caught her eye.
“What the hell?”
She gazed down at the bones and the bird beneath her skin began to tremble and claw at the skin of her underbelly. The owl hooted, sending a tremor through her body. Her people knew bones. Owls could read the message in the remains of what had been left behind. It was one of the reasons her parents had pushed her into something other than direct forensic science. How did you explain to a lab full of humans what you could tell just by looking? That mark was made by a tooth? Or that singe mark on the back side of a dog was a Perinium spell gone horribly wrong.
But this…
Being in class was one thing. Plastic gloves and eyes watching her every move. She hated that. It was better to work alone. To feel what the remains were telling her. And these bones… They spoke to her now, and it was a heady experience.
“Ugh…”
Without thinking, she reached for the table to steady herself, but instead came into close proximity with several of the bones. She shifted her grip, her hands connecting fully. She wasn’t supposed to touch them except with gloved hands, but as her flesh came into contact with the surface, she felt the uneven texture beneath her fingertips.
Odd.
Merryn peered down at the bone beneath her fingertips and her nose wrinkled in distaste.
“What is that?”
It was etching. Or writing. Nothing like she’d ever seen but something arcane that made her fingers tingle. Merryn pulled her hand away, grabbed for her phone and snapped a couple more photos, drilling down close to get whatever inscriptions were hidden amongst the rest of the bones.
A few more shots and she put the phone in her back pocket. She started to step away but her owl screeched.
Wrong. Something’s wrong.
Feel.
Against her better judgement, Merryn held up her hands and placed them on the bones once more, the images of what happened to the person they belonged to flooding into her.
“Oh, Goddess.”
She couldn’t unsee it. The horror of what the girl had gone through, and the depths of depravity within the witch who had done this, made her want to heave her guts up on the floor.
Merryn staggered backwards without bothering to put the sheet back. The clipboard clattered to the floor as she tried to steady her breathing and remember what it was she came here for in the first place.
Her notes. She had to get her notes. Merryn scrambled back toward her workstation, reaching under the table to the small desk area and grabbed at them, stuffing the pages into her broken backpack.
Not looking back, she hurried from the lab, getting as far away from the desecrated bones as she could. Merryn made her way quickly down the shadowy passage and out the door to the parking lot where her beat up ancient Volkswagen bug waited.
Merryn unlocked the trunk with shaking hands, tossed her books in and slammed it shut. Without thinking, she lurched toward the driver’s door, fiddling with the lock and wrenching the door open. She swung behind the wheel of the car and stared at herself in the mirror. Her glasses were askew, her dirty blond hair mussed and she looked like she’d seen a ghost.
She started it up and put the car into gear—she had to get to Broomstix and talk to Bridget. She’d know what to do.
Winding her way through traffic during the Halloween rush was less than fun, but after an hour she reached her apartment parking lot. She parked and leapt from the car, leaving her books in the trunk. Hot footing it toward the shop, she maneuvered through partygoers and revelers, intent on her destination. Soon, she broke off from the more touristy areas and veered off from the crowd.
Someone was behind her. Merryn’s heart beat louder and her eyes d
arted down the shadowy streets. Salem was laden with tourists this close to Halloween and she shouldn’t have had anything to fear. But she did.
Just a couple nights ago they’d found the pixie girl murdered at one of the festival areas off the main drag; and now she’d seen what was written on the dead girl’s bones. A shiver overtook her and Merryn hurried forward. She could hear the din of the crowd from the Psychic Fair up ahead. She could go there or head straight to Broomstix on the chance that her boss, Bridget, would still be there.
A gust of wind brought the scent of wet dog to her nose and, working purely on instinct, Merryn shifted, moving from human to owl form in zero to ten seconds flat. Her great wings spread and she glided upwards, searching the ground below.
Angry red eyes watched as she crested high and perched on a large oak, the two wolves staring at her with hate in their eyes.
One wolf shifted from animal to human form, a leering smile on his too handsome face. “Here, little birdy… why don’t you come down and play?”
Merryn screeched and flapped her wings, her claws itching to gouge a hole in the smug prick’s face.
Just then, a band of costumed humans trudged down the street, their laughter just the distraction she needed to take flight and break away. A few streets over, she shifted back. No sign of the wolves, but she realized they had to be lurking. How foolhardy they were to chance being seen by humans was hardly a question. She knew about the girl Mari. Just a human girl studying at the university in Salem; and then one night, after her shift at the bar she worked at… Pow. Wolf bait. Merryn didn’t plan on sitting still long enough to be their newest chew toy.
The shop windows were dark but Merryn approached, knowing someone would likely be inside. She rattled the door handle and it gave. Pulse beating erratically, Merryn slipped inside locking it behind her. She took a ragged breath and swallowed, the reality of what could have happened spelled out like the pictures in her phone. For a quick, panicked moment, she felt around her back pocket, relieved that the phone had made it with the rest of her clothes when she shifted.
A Cursed All Hallows' Eve Page 143