by Renea Mason
Wicked Devotion
Renea Mason
Contents
Acknowledgments
1. Sleep
2. Bound
3. Confession
4. Chance
5. Family
6. Fate
7. Pull
8. Ribbon
9. Push
10. Truth
11. Abandon
12. Reward
Epilogue
Also by Renea Mason
About the Author
The Midnight Coven
Welcome to the magical world of the Midnight Coven. Within the pages of our books, you’ll find vampires and demons, witches and fae, dark magic and happily ever afters. Each Midnight Coven book is a romance novella featuring characters who occasionally cross over from book to book, so we hope you’ll read them all. You just never know when your favorite character might show up again.
Acknowledgments
Beta Readers:
Dina Alexander, Laurel Tracey, Tiffany Dover, Tammy Becraft
To all who believe in magic…
Wicked Devotion
A STANDALONE Paranormal Romance
Copyright © 2019 Renea Mason
A Midnight Coven Novella
ReneaMason.com
Published by Mad Mason Press
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are entirely fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Except in the case of brief quotations for the purpose of critical analysis or review, this book may not be reproduced in any form (print, electronic, audio or any other format), in whole or in part, without the express permission of the author.
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Edited by Nancy Cassidy at The Red Pen Coach
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1
Sleep
“No sudden movements. Put your hands in the air where I can see them.” A deep, masculine voice cut through the cacophony of insects, frogs and other nocturnal creatures keeping me company in the bushes outside the stately mansion.
I rolled my eyes and sighed. Smoothing the fabric of my black jumpsuit before standing slowly, I refused to raise my hands above my head. I didn’t have time for this. The coven would gather soon. I needed to be ready. Besides, what kind of witches needed security? Pathetic. This moron needed to get lost. “Now, why would I do that?”
“Because you want to live, that’s why. Look, I don’t want to have to shoot you. Put your hands in the air.”
I watched as one by one the coven members exited the mansion, gathering around the standing stones in the garden. This was my life’s mission. I had a job to do. I didn’t have time for a rent-a-cop in need of a purpose.
I closed my eyes, chanted ancient syllables on a soft whisper and spun, just in time to see a large gust of wind topple him over, sending his weapon skittering across the wet grass. He gasped as the impact with the ground forced the air from his lungs.
Retrieving the knife from inside my boot, I straddled and then pinned him, my weapon resting against his throat. “I don’t know who you are…” I paused and started to laugh as an unmistakable sickly sweet scent surrounded me. “A vampire? What kind of vampire uses a gun?” Sitting astride his pelvis, I raised an eyebrow. “Are you compensating for something?”
He smirked, seemingly amused by his current situation. “While you’re up there, why not solve the mystery?” He wiggled his hips under me, then whispered, “I’m not one to leave a lady in suspense.”
Pricking his skin with the tip of my blade just enough to leave a fine red line, I issued my warning. “I don’t have time for this. I’m about to raise holy hell, and I can’t have you mucking things up.” I reached into my pocket and pinched a small sample of dust between my fingers.
As I sprinkled tiny granules into his eyes, he thrashed about under me. “Hey, not in the eyes. That hurts. What are you—”
With a smack to his forehead, I commanded, “Sleep.”
The vampire’s eyes closed and his breathing slowed.
“Stupid fucking vampire.” I hated vampires. The pretentious pricks subjugated my people, stole my brother and acted as they did us a favor. As I gathered the moisture in my mouth to spit in his face, the moonlight highlighted his features. He was handsome. Dark hair, angled features, no wonder one of those bloodsuckers turned him. He was pretty. Oh, so very pretty. Killing him would probably save many women a lot of heartache. I reached into my other boot and pulled out a spike, positioning it just above his heart. The whispers of the gathering witches drifted on the wind. Pretty boy would have to wait to meet his maker. I didn’t have time for distractions. At least that’s what I told myself as I swallowed my spit, stowed the spike back in my boot and bounded to my feet. I’d spare him this time, but if he interfered again, I wouldn’t think twice about killing him. I had a good thirty minutes or so before sleeping beauty woke up and showed his fangs.
Creeping through the bushes, I inched closer to the gathering horde of witches. The New Orleans covens were some of the most powerful in the world and really no better than the bloodsuckers they railed against. Politics and infighting took center stage and our purpose as guardians of the Earth was an afterthought to them. I made it my mission, the day I learned my first spell, to free my coven from the vampires, welcome back all the stolen children and take down those responsible for damning my people in the first place. Where better to start than at the top?
There she was. That bitch. The one who signed the treaty in blood. The Mother, they called her. Her flowing robes billowed in the night breeze. Long gray locks framed her ageless face. She stepped into the center of the stones and lifted her hand to the sky.
It was now or never. I reached into my pocket to find a conjuring stone—a distraction was a must—but before I could cast my spell on it, motion in shadows caught my attention. A figure, dressed in black, only discernible as a silhouette in the moonlight, stirred the foliage across the garden.
My eagle-sight cantrip had always served me well. With a flick of my wrist and two blinks of my eyes, the syllables drifted on the air. I zeroed in on the incognito intruder.
The woman, with her eyes closed, recited a powerful incantation. I snickered and my heart filled with glee at the prospect of someone ruining the covens’ day and on a much larger scale than I had planned. This witch was much more powerful than me, and the spell she wove far more sophisticated, but my delight quickly turned to panic when I realized I would likely be caught in the fray. Not good.
My chest tightened with anxiety and my fingers fidgeted with the spell components in my pocket. She was far too powerful to take on directly and that would bring the wrath of the coven down on me. I needed to be defensive. While sifting through the contents, I remembered a story my cousin once told me. How she avoided the effects of a love spell by commanding herself to sleep. The magics acted like magnets, repelling each other and she avoided a life of matrimony with the butcher’s son. The chant spilled faster from the woman’s lips and as the word “fear” rang in my ears, I collected the dust from my pocket, sprinkled it into my eyes, and with a smack to the forehead, I commanded myself to sleep.
2
Bound
I woke up to the hum of a car engine. I was moving, but that was the least of my worries. I w
as trapped. Struggling against the binding at my wrists, I tried to break free. My ankles were fused together with the same duct tape that covered my mouth. Lying on my side on the leather bench seat, I thrashed and tried to scream, but to no avail. The cloth wedged in my mouth muffled my cries.
From the driver’s seat a familiar deep voice called out, “Oh, hello, sorry about the tape, but I couldn’t exactly let you get the best of me again. Quite embarrassing enough the first time.” The vampire grinned at me in the rearview mirror. “It’s really a shame. We could have had a delightful conversation on our travels. Based on the items I found in your pockets, I’m sure the topics would have been quite fascinating. Do you always carry powered bull testicles in your pants? I sure hope that isn’t what you sprinkled in my eyes.” He glanced back to take in my expression, no doubt hoping it would confirm he didn’t get an eyeful of bull balls, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
I yelled against the tape, but it made no difference. I was his captive audience now. I should have killed him when I had the chance.
“I would like to extend my sincere apologies. Under normal circumstances, I’d never treat a lady like this, but you made it impossible with your little display back there. I was sent to stop you and even though you may have done your dastardly deed, I’m hoping I’ll still get credit for bringing you in. It’s such a shame, you’re such a pretty thing.” He sighed and gazed into the mirror. “I’m really sorry about your clothes,” he said, but his expression was anything but remorseful.
I shivered in only my bra and underwear and started making a list of applicable curses I’d learned under my aunt’s tutelage. Aunt Miranda had a juvenile sense of humor, and thanks to her, I possessed the knowledge to make his balls itch for days. With enough Incan clay dust and poison ivy, perhaps months.
“I wish I could ask your name. I’m Eli, by the way. I’ve been a bounty hunter of sorts for Baron McCaffery for nearly two centuries. My targets are usually not so…” He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Comely, but you’ve probably heard of Baron, some call him the Lord of the Underworld. Seems the witches have put a price on your head. They heard you were coming to sabotage their little shindig, something about you holding a grudge.”
So he wasn’t a security guard. I wondered if he’d ever shut up, but something he’d said piqued my curiosity. Even though I was in town to exact my justice on the coven’s social elite, I had only learned of the ceremony earlier that day. It was an opportunity, but not something I had planned. How could there be a bounty on my head for trying to stop something I wasn’t even aware of until that very day? Divination maybe?
Or perhaps, this moron had captured the wrong witch.
“Ah, here we are.” Eli pulled the car into the circular entranceway to the ornate building. We looked to be in downtown New Orleans, but in an unfamiliar area. He bent over the console and made eye contact with me. “Please, do accept my apologies and perhaps, view my precautions as a compliment. I’m rarely taken by surprise.”
I would have given anything to tell him to fuck off.
The door behind my head opened and my vampire captor smiled. “These fine gentlemen will take you upstairs and make you a little more comfortable. I’ll be up in a bit, once you’re secure, and then we’ll have a little chat, shall we?” A smirk pulled at the edge of his lip and his gaze perused the length of my body in predatory style.
Forget itching. At the end of the night, I’d feed him his balls. Kidnapped? How amateur. Could this night get any worse?
3
Confession
“Comfy?” The vampire crossed his legs and rested his hands on his knees.
What a smug… “Fuck you.” I glared at him from behind the glass wall. He had me locked up like fucking Hannibal Lector. Did he fancy himself Clarice Starling? I would kill him at the first possible chance.
He smirked. “What a dirty mouth you have, my dear. To look at you… what? Barely five feet tall, with smooth, silky skin, feminine hips, voluptuous breasts, and your dark wavy locks, demure and angelic—all the tell-tale signs of a lady, but it’s all camouflage, isn’t it? A weapon against your unsuspecting prey.”
“Has anyone told you, you talk too much?”
He chuckled and bared his fangs. “If you’d like me to stop talking, there are far better uses for my mouth. Witch blood is delightful. I had hoped you’d be agreeable and tell me what I need to know, but if not pain is usually a good motivator.” He stood and took two steps towards the glass. “I’ve also found pleasure can be an equally effective method.” He wet his lower lip with a swipe of his tongue. “Or perhaps a little of both?”
It took everything I had to suppress the shiver that ran through me. He was walking, talking sex. But did he think I was fickle enough to fall for his seduction?
“What do you want from me?” I tugged at the soft, white cotton dress they’d given me to wear before looking around the room for my best chance to escape.
“I’ll tell you in a moment, dear, but before then, let me inform you. The chamber you’re in is specifically designed to suppress magic. No hocus pocus for you.”
Goddamn vampires. “What do you want with me?” I repeated.
“Why did you curse the coven gathering?”
I was right. He had the wrong witch. “I didn’t.”
He snickered. “Right, you expect me to believe you. I caught you on the grounds, you incapacitate me, then every member of every New Orleans Coven, succumbs to a fear curse.” He stood and moved in front of the glass. “I’m not stupid. Remember, I emptied your pockets. You weren’t preparing for a dinner party, you were prepared for war. So before I turn you over to the coven elders, tell me, why did you do it?”
I pressed my body against the glass and stared into his eyes. “You’re as dumb as you are pretty. I didn’t do it.”
He inched closer until only the thin pane separated us. It was almost as though I could feel his body heat through the glass. “Then, tell me who did.”
“I don’t know, but I saw her across the garden. The incantation was old and powerful. I commanded myself to sleep, hoping the effects wouldn’t impact me. That’s how you captured me. My own damn spell.” I pounded a fist against the glass.
“But the curse, the leader said it was a fear curse, how does it work?”
“If it’s the spell I think it is, every witch in range will come to realize and face their greatest fear. It becomes all-consuming and incapacitating until it destroys them. It will bring the New Orleans Covens to their knees.”
“How do we lift the curse?”
“You’re asking me? You want my help? Do I need to remind you that you kidnapped me.”
He smirked, “I prefer to think of it as a temporary relocation.”
“You’re an asshole. Besides, I have no idea how to undo it. The witch who cast the spell was far more powerful than me.”
“But you’re not overcome by fear?”
I snorted. “There’s very little I fear. Besides, I’m hoping I protected myself with the sleep spell.”
“What about me? I was close by. I don’t seem to be affected.”
“Curses like that are usually specific to witches. That attack was personal.”
His shoulders relaxed, but his gaze never left mine. “Why were you there, if not to curse the covens?”
“Now, that would be convenient, wouldn’t it? Having me tell you all my secrets just before you sell me to the highest bidder. I think I’ve said all I’m going to say.” I turned my back on him and walked over to sit on the small bed in the corner of the holding cell. I needed a plan.
He hadn’t moved. “What about your name? Surely, you can tell me that?”
I ignored him and balled my hands into fists to help ease my frustration.
“Fine. But it doesn’t have to be this way,” he said in a soft, almost imploring tone.
I glared at him.
He stared at me for a long moment. “I’ll send someone in with refr
eshments. I don’t want you to think I’m inhospitable. I didn’t put the price on your head. I’m simply the intermediary. Your comfort is important, while you’re in my care. What happens when I turn you over, who’s to say, so you might as well enjoy your stay. The chef is first-in-class. Enjoy.”
I shot out my arm and raised my middle finger.
He tsked. “Someone needs to tame you. I envy the bastard. Nothing more arousing than a challenge.” Before I could respond, he opened and then stepped through the door.
Too bad I could only kill him once.
4
Chance
Patience was never my virtue. I blamed my gypsy nomadic roots. My family in Romania believed all the Earth was our home, and it was best to never wear out one’s welcome, so anxiety tightened my chest anytime I remained stationary. Being confined was damn near debilitating.
The latest fantasy running through my mind, the one where I subdued Eli and prepared to sever his head with a garden hoe, had just started getting to the good part when the door opened. In walked a tall, handsomely dapper man, a beautiful woman dressed in the latest boho-chic fashion, her stomach round with child. Eli followed close behind and closed the door behind them, rushing to stand in front of the couple. The sweet smell of vampire entered through the ventilation system. Were they all vampires, or just Eli?