The Princess of Wands (Villainess Book 3)

by Alana Melos

  Hours later, I lay in bed next to him. He slept on his back, one arm half around me and the other tucked under the pillow. I couldn’t sleep, though I needed it after the last few days and our bout of fucking. Even now, untold climaxes later, I wanted more. It was never enough. This hunger inside of me was never sated. It dimmed from time to time as I fed it either from fucking or killing, but it never went away. The only time it had been when I was too concerned about Nazi zombots and wolves and being arrested….

  I shook my head slightly to negate the thought as I looked out the window. Snow was falling again, but at a gentle pace this time. Soft, fluffy flakes floated past the high rise’s balcony, drifting back and forth. What I had thought wasn’t true. It wasn’t the events of the night which had distracted me. It had been the confusion I felt at all of these alien threads in my mind. I’d been too full of those thoughts, the hunger hadn’t had a chance to grab hold of me.

  Was that what I craved? What that what I sought as I lurched from one heady experience to the next? The simplicity of feeling something other than anger, lust, and desire. Laughing, being around people, even being sad or afraid… these things, these simple things had driven my hunger for sensation and power away, if temporarily.

  But they weren’t me. They weren’t the me I knew. I knew my hunger and I embraced it. Only now doubt filtered in where there was none before. Even dimmed as I kept it, it still was there, wiggling in the corner of my mind, thrashing about and demanding attention. These things weren’t me and I didn’t want them. I didn’t want these emotions clouding my judgment, making me soft and weak by caring about people--even if they were a select few. I didn’t want to feel fear and doubt. I didn’t want to love.

  I glanced at Gerard. I didn’t love him. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. He was a tool to be used and then discarded when I was done. Relief surged through me knowing I still felt that way about him. He was dangerous and untrustworthy, which was why I threw myself back into his arms. I trusted that. The “real” me was reflected in my choice of lovers. But the others?

  Adira, with her complicated past and frustrated host. Alistair and his need to be dominated lest he lose control. Rebekah and her cheerfulness, even in the face of adversity… until it was time to kill, at least. And Rory… a swift pang hurt me, and I scowled as I watched the snow drift down. I shouldn’t feel anything for his death, but I did. I’d miss his cocky smile. I didn’t even know him that well, but I would miss him all the same.

  I didn’t want any of that.

  Epilogue

  It was a clear night for Rory and the other wolves’ memorial service and funeral… funeral for them, memorial for Rory as we didn't have a body to bury. After what Adira, Rebekah, and I told the rest of the pack about the woods coming alive to kill us, no one wanted to try to find it.

  The moon wasn’t full, but they didn’t go by the moon anyway. It was still full enough to give off a lot of light on the snow encrusted glow, making it ethereal. I dressed all in white. I don’t know why, really. I always wore black, just like everyone else here. White was the color for mourning in Chinese culture so it still seemed appropriate. Something special. Something different.

  I didn’t know what to expect. I asked Freyja if they devoured their dead like on some of the popular shows and movies I’d seen here and there. The look she gave me was scathing. “We’re not cannibals,” she said, biting off the words. “That’s forbidden.”

  “Forbidden?” I asked. “Why?”

  At that, she huffed. “Why is it forbidden in your culture? Because it’s gross and makes people sick.” Scoffing loudly, she walked away from me as she shook her head. Well, it just went to show you how accurate television was.

  Unlike other funerals--I guessed, this was the first I’d ever attended--no one said much. They simply gathered around the graves they had dug and laid a token inside each. I didn’t know the other wolves, so I hung back and watched. They’d marked the graves with simple flat stones, each with a unique carving on it, some sort of symbol I didn’t recognize from any alphabet I knew. A single stone had no grave to go with it and I drifted towards it to stand next to Adira.

  “There wasn’t anything we could have done,” I said. Deep royal blue dominated her threads, a grief so deep it colored everything else. It was for all of her fallen pack mates, but Rory in particular.

  “I don’t blame us,” she said, her exotic accent slipping out to stain her words. “I blame whatever it was.” She glanced to me, then back to the stone. “I am going to kill it.”

  “I don’t even know what that was,” I said. I’d never seen anything like it, nor did I want to again. Some part of me kept pushing to say the next words even though I didn't really want to. “If you need my help, it’s yours.”

  She grinned, fierce and hard. “Good,” she said. “I knew I could count on you, blood sister. We will have to move fast, though.”

  “Why fast? Forest isn’t going anywhere,” I observed, gesturing at the hulking trees in the distance. Crap. I'd hoped she wouldn't take me up on the offer. I should have known better.

  “To find Rory,” she said, slow as if I were simple.

  “His body? It’s going to be long gone.”

  Adira shook her head, “No. He’s alive.” I looked to her and she must have read the skepticism on my face. “He is. I can feel him.”

  “I felt him die,” I told her, unease creeping in. “I heard his last thought.” There’d been no mistaking it. Even if he’d been unconscious, I would have sensed his thoughts, but there’d been nothing. The connection had broken when he died and we’d escaped.

  “He’s alive,” she repeated, insistent. “I know it. I can find him, but I don’t dare go alone.”

  “I…” I didn’t know what to say. I knew he was dead. “Ah… what about the pack?”

  She scoffed, giving them an angry glare. “Freyja forbids the wolves from helping. The other maşşāş, the other vampires… they won’t. I won’t force them.” Her voice caught just a little on her words and I knew she lied. She couldn’t make them.

  “It’s something for another day,” I said.

  “Soon, very soon,” she replied, turning back to me with her intense gaze. “With or without you, I will go in the next couple of days. I feel him fading. I don’t know how to explain well, but he fades, more and more every hour.” Ripping her eyes from me, she looked back to the forest in the distance. I shifted my feet, staring at her. How much did the vampire marks tell them about the bitten? Or was it just because they'd been so close and she'd bitten him a lot?

  I patted her shoulder and moved away. Searching my feelings, the admiration shone through bright, as well as some desire and caring. Since she hurt, I wanted to kill whoever hurt her. She wanted to find Rory and so I would help to find him, even though it was a fool’s errand. I thought that over in moody silence. These new parts of me spurred me on to do things I wouldn’t have done before, but the urge still expressed through my personality. My affection was not to be shown through flowers and gifts, but rather through my blade and blood. I hardly thought people would commit gleeful murder for their friends at the merest slight. And if someone killed one of them? That plant thing had been watch the fuck out… provided it could since it had no eyes and all.

  I walked towards Rebekah who had come with me. The pack accepted her now, more or less, though the vampires kept their distance. On the other hand, having shed blood not once, but twice with them had busted through the loup garou’s reservations about the former soldier and they welcomed her roughly.

  “How you doing?” I asked her, not really caring right now, but I needed something to break the ice.

  “I’m good,” she said, giving me a bright smile, which dimmed a moment later as she remembered where she was. “Er, as good as can be.”

  “I talked with Ger… you forgave him?” I asked her.

  She nodded briskly, her grin reappearing. “Ja, yes, he explained it to me,” she said. “People colle
cting powers… dangerous. It was good he covered for me and everything turned out alright in the end.”

  I looked pointedly at her stump, then back. “Yes,” I said, my voice dry. “Everything turned out alright.”

  Rebekah followed my gaze and poo-poohed it with her good hand. “No, no, this is fine,” she said. “I’m going to get a mechanical replacement. It will just take some time.”

  “Just like Luke Skywalker,” I mused. Well, not exactly the same since her father didn’t cut it off, but he had been the reason so it might as well been him wielding the chainsaw.

  “Who?” she asked as she cocked her head to the side. Her eyes were very bright in the moon's glow. The dress she wore was pale blue, long and wispy, but she had her coat over it to keep the chill of the winter’s night off of her.

  “Luke Sky… oh, never mind,” I said. An idea struck me then and I smiled just a little. “What do you think of a movie night? You know, to get you more acclimated to...well, Prime, I guess.”

  “Oh, just like the pack,” she said. “We could join them, you know!” That smile of hers widened into a cheeky grin. My own grew in response. I didn’t have to feel her emotions or thoughts to understand her and in some ways… this was better. Slower, but more substantial and filling.

  “We could at that,” I replied. “After a fool's errand.”

  “What errand?” she asked.

  “Adira thinks Rory is still alive,” I replied, scoffing at the notion. “She wants to go get him.”

  “She does? He is?!” Rebekah squeaked. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go rescue him!”

  I looked around at nothing in particular. “Is everyone around here crazy? He’s dead. I felt him die. We're not going to find anything. We'll be lucky if we find a shred of his body.”

  “If she says he is alive, then I trust her,” Rebekah said, nodding to emphasize her words. “You don’t leave a soldier behind.”

  I tried to think of a way to refute that. Self-preservation numbered one on the list, but as I looked at her and she nodded at me, I had the thought that sometimes… not often, but maybe sometimes… there were things worth putting your life on the line. This was that something for Adira. Rescuing Gerard had been that something for Rebekah. I chewed it over in my head thinking of Nosferatu. Would I kill for him? Absolutely. I’d kill for a doughnut, after all. The real question was would I die for him? That answer came much slower. It definitely wasn’t a yes… but it wasn’t a no either.

  Rebekah continued to look at me with those big aqua eyes of hers. I shifted uncomfortably. My words to Gerard came back to me. I’d already stuck my neck out for her when I threatened him. There was something about her which made me reluctant to tell her no, to be cold-hearted and unfeeling. That indefinable thing I’d observed in others had taken root and with the person I probably had the least in common with, personality wise. The same question I asked myself a few moments ago had a different answer for her.

  Well, crap. It looked like I was going after a dead wolf.

  VILLAINESS #3:

  THE PRINCESS OF WANDS

  ebook Edition | Copyright ©2016 Alana Melos

  Cover Art & Design by Rev. Jotham “Pipes” Talbot Copyright ©2016

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return the ebook and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All rights reserved. Except for the use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means is forbidden without the express permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and settings are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, names, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All characters depicted in this story are of age and have consensual sex.

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  Author's Blog: http://alanamelos.blogspot.com

  Author's email: writeralanamelos@gmail.com

  Author's Twitter: @Alana_Melos

  ALANA MELOS is a struggling author who found out writing erotica gave her much more freedom in writing than when she wrote the "serious" literary stuff. Since this discovery, she's endeavored to write the very best interesting, weird, plot-driven, and hot erotica she can. She sincerely hopes to just entertain people, whether they read for the plot, the weird factor, or the racy factor. Along with her loving husband, she lives with a crazy cat.

  REV. JOTHAM “PIPES” TALBOT is a graphic designer and pipe enthusiast, as well as a small town reverend. He lives with his three wives, fourteen children, and a dog named Spencer.

  Hi there! This project is near and dear to my heart, and I hope you enjoyed it. Villains are a passion of mine. They've always been so complex and powerful, often taking on a whole team of super heroes by themselves... losing, but it still took the whole team. This series covers Caprice's journey, and I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I did writing it.

  Thank you for reading the Villainess series. Gaining exposure as an independent author relies mostly on word-of-mouth, so if you have the time and inclination, please consider leaving a short review wherever you can. There is an excerpt to the next upcoming Villainess book—The Princess of Wands—after this, and then links to my Amazon author page, and selected works which you may find appealing. Again, thank you for reading!

  In the Weird, Wild West...

  Delilah lives with her pa on his brahmin ranch, betrothed to her sweetheart Ezekiel. Even in this rough frontier world, life is good and sweet, much like Delilah herself. However, ruffians intrude upon her idyllic life, shattering it and changing her forever.

  Delilah prays for help, but it isn't God who answers. Out of nowhere the devil Azazel appears, and a very handsome devil is he. He offers Delilah the means to exact her revenge... if she's willing and wanton enough to pay the eternal price....

  The gentle lady must look into her heart and soul and explore the wicked, depraved depths she's willing to go for vengeance.

  “The Devil and Delilah is masterfully written, and I don't say that lightly. The writing nothing like the puerile, purple-prosed drivel usually found in erotica. The writing is tight, damn-near poetic at times, and well-paced. Alana is on fire with this new series. It's blisteringly erotic and depraved and I absolutely love it. I already can't wait for the next book.”

  “It has great characterization, hot sex, and a fantastic setting. The grit of the wild west mixed with the hot eroticism of Alana's writing forms a fun and sexy read. If you love erotica with a story, then you need to give The Devil and Delilah a read! “

  This is the first chapter of a dark fantasy weird west erotic serial. It explores hard, dark, brutal passions in a fantastic wild west setting. It is for mature audiences only and is 14,000+ words.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Better?” he asked, but didn’t bother waiting for an answer. His hands had been chaste before, but now they went to her breasts, feeling her in a way she was not accustomed. Her nipples hardened under his heat and motions, and a sweet ache took hold of her, but she pulled away and sat up, closing her shirt and covering herself.

  “Yes, thank you,” Delilah said. “How are you going to help me?”

  “We have to seal the deal first,” Azazel replied, smiling wickedly and showing entirely too many teeth. He moved closer, kneeling in the dirt with her, yet it didn’t cling to his clothing. It looked as fresh and new as it had when she’d first seen him. “Come, my darling, kiss me.”

  She drove away her fear with her force of will. She’d chosen this, and a kiss was nothing. Delilah leaned forward and tilted her head, pressing her lips to his. He plunged his hands into her hair and tilted her
head back as far as it would go. His tongue forced her mouth open even as she struggled against his forcefulness. Zeke had kissed her before, but not quite like this, and never this hard. The devil invaded her. There was no other word for it. He took possession of her mouth, tasting every corner of it, and the heat between her legs rose even more. She blushed as she realized this was arousing her, making her want this creature. Before she realized it, she’d stopped her struggles and was kissing him back, clumsily, but eagerly. When he broke the kiss and looked at her, he smiled once again. “Ah, such a lovely blush. A good start. I’ll have fun breaking you.”

  “Breaking...what? No,” Delilah said, pulling away again. “What do you want?”

  “I told you. I want you, all of you, until the end of your days and you agreed,” he said. “I’ve already given you a taste of my power, and now it’s time for you to let me taste you… every inch of you.” The pleasant expression he’d held slipped a little and he leered, but even that increased her arousal. Her body responded to his want as her mind recoiled from it.

  Azazel stood up and mimed dusting himself off, though it wasn’t needed. “I didn’t agree to that,” she said, though her sex pulsed and ached with want. It’s not me, she thought. He’s doing something to me. Even as she thought it, she knew it was a lie she told herself.

  The devil laughed out loud. “I’m not doing anything to you, my lovely harlot,” he said, lips curling into a derisive smile. “That would be your own lust you’re feeling.” When she began to stand, he pushed her back, “No, I think you’ll stay there for now. I’ve got a task for you which is best done on your knees.”