Wicked Destiny: A Reverse Harem Urban Fantasy Series (Wicked Witches Book 1)

by L. C. Hibbett

  Kathleen wrung her hands together as Patrick stared at the rows of sleeping children. His glare landed on the fairy. “You. You made her do this. You knew she was ill and took advantage of her vulnerability.”

  “Patrick.” I grabbed his hand. “Patrick, stop. We’re wasting time, Arawn is already on his way to collect the children. Kathleen commanded the fairy to summon him—she’s the keeper of her bloodline.”

  Patrick whirled to face his foster mother with his hands outstretched. “Undo this, Kathleen. I’m begging you, please call off whatever deal you’ve made with Arawn.”

  “How can I, son?” Kathleen shuffled forward, reaching for Patrick’s face. “You’ve seen the darkness coming, Patrick. I was the one who wiped your tears when you woke screaming in terror as a boy. I protected you from the rot in the coven itself. Who will protect you and the Free Witches if I’m gone? Sacrifices must be made for the greater good.”

  Patrick grabbed Kathleen's shoulders. “Not like this, Mum. This is madness—this is the darkness. People thinking they have the right to sacrifice others, justifying terrible things in the name of their own version of what’s fair and just. You know this isn’t okay, deep down, you know this is a wicked thing to do.” The sound of footsteps pounding down the tunnel filled the cave and Patrick stared into his foster mother’s eyes. “I can’t let you do this, mother. I’m sorry.”

  Snow and the coven leader, Magnus, burst into the cave and Kathleen lifted her hands to her cheeks. Nick and Markus were next to emerge and I felt a warm rush of reassurance as they took up position on either side of me. Snow held her hand out to prevent Magnus from approaching Kathleen as she regarded the purple witch with watchful eyes. “Kathleen, lost child of the time thieves, my name is Amelia Snow and I’m the general of the International—”

  “I know who you are.” Kathleen cut across Snow’s introduction. “And I’m afraid, like I told the daughter of death, you’re too late. Arawn is almost here, I can feel his presence.” Nick slipped his hand inside mine and Markus pressed himself closer to my side.

  Patrick caught his foster mother’s arm. “It’s over, Kathleen. What use will immortality be when you’re chased from the coven for murdering thirty children?”

  “Oh, Trick.” Kathleen patted his shirt. “You really don’t understand, do you? As soon as Arawn has taken his sacrifice, I’ll be able to use my magic again, with the increased power of an immortal, and I’ll steal this time for your mind.” She glanced at Snow. “From all of you. And from the families of the missing children. It will be as if the children never existed.” She tilted her head to one side. “And if nobody remembers them, did they really ever exist at all?” Patrick recoiled from Kathleen’s touch, stumbling on the wet rocks, and I lunged forward and caught his hand in mine. Kathleen glared out our entwined fingers as Patrick turned his face away from her. “Don’t judge me so harshly, black witch, you’re no better than I am. I see the darkness in your soul. What road would you travel to protect your little girl, daughter of death?”

  Before I could answer her, the waves swelled and roared against the cave walls, parting to reveal a slender figure, shrouded in black with the horns of a stag protruding from his hood. Kathleen fell to her knees and bent low before the dark creature. “Arawn, I am your daughter, last of your time thieves. I offer you a great sacrifice in humble exchange for immortality.”

  “As general of the International Guild of Supernatural, I forbid the—” Snow fell to her knees, clutching at her chest as the temperature in the room dropped suddenly. All around me, the others fell to the ground. Markus, Patrick, and Nick crawled in front of me even as they dropped, until only the shadow god, the fairy, and I were on our feet.

  Arawn’s voice was like a death rattle as he stepped out of the water and looked down into Snow’s face. “You hold no dominion over me, princess of the night. The underworld is beyond the reach of your power. The souls of the moon children have been offered to me and I receive them gratefully, offering immortality to my long lost child in return.”

  Fear was an icy noose around my throat as I watched Awan’s cloak trail over Snow’s prone body as he glided toward the sleeping children. Patrick clawed at the rock floor, desperately trying to put himself between the god and his prey. I clenched my fists. “You’re not taking them.”

  The god whirled to face me. His eyes glimmered under the shadow of his hood. “Who dares to stand against the lord of the underworld?”

  “I do.” I lifted my chin. “Daughter of Clán Uí Néill, descended of Lugh—”

  “Black witch,” Arawn hissed. His glower fixed on the pendant resting against my throat and he shrank away from me. “When death doth wear the face of a maiden, adorned with the jewels of Valhalla, so night shall fall on the world we know.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  The god turned his back to me and thrust his hands into the air. “It means I have tarried too long, black witch.”

  “No!” I tore across the cave, lunging at his cloak as the god drew the life force from the cave in an explosion of blinding light. I flung one arm in front of my eyes, and when I let it fall the silence had been shattered by heaving lungs and bodies scampering to their feet.

  Nick was the first to reach my side. “Destiny, what happened?”

  “He took them,” Snow whispered. “Their souls. He took the children’s souls.”

  I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached as I stared at the fairy standing silently at the mouth of the cave. My fingernails tore the skin on my palms. “Call him back.”

  The fairy’s tone was heavy. “You know the price of challenging a god, child, if you don’t best him, your life is forfeit.”

  Markus and Patrick began to argue but I cut across them, glaring at the fairy. “Call him.”

  The fairy cast her hands into the air and Arawn was on the rocks once more, fury burning in his eyes like lava. “You,” he spat, pointing a long, bony finger at my face.

  I thrust my arms wide and released every ounce of my power, closing my eyes as everybody in the cave fell to the ground. Arawn cursed and raged as I assaulted him with my magic, but I would not be turned aside. I called for the souls of the children and they reached out to me, their energy bright and pure as the first snowfall in December. I tried to lead their souls back to their bodies, but the god blocked my path, taunting me with his strength. Pouring poison into my ear. “You can’t give life, black witch. You are death made flesh. You are wickedness and decay and evil on earth. You cannot nurture the souls of the moon children, they wither under your touch.”

  My breath caught as I saw the glowing souls dim, slipping away from my call. He was right. I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t light, I was dark. Suddenly, the fairy was by my side, her whisper in my mind. “You have given life, child. You will give life again. You are the daughter of death, mother of life, lover of all, omen of doom, glimmer of hope. Life is yours to offer.”

  I drew the salty air into my lungs like a woman saved from drowning, thrusting Arawn’s creeping energy away as I drew the children’s souls into my body. I groaned in pain as I crawled over the jagged rocks and spread my arms wide beside their bodies, delivering their souls back into the world of the living as I have delivered Soairse. Arawn howled at my back but I was beyond caring. I had won. He couldn’t touch the children anymore.

  The last thing I saw as I slipped from consciousness was the dark shadow of death dragging Kathleen under the sea.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Markus.” My fingers froze on the door handle as I stared at the red witch standing outside the bathroom door.

  He held out a mug of tea with an awkward shrug. “Izzy said you might want a cup of tea when you woke. Everybody else is busy in the case room with the big Guild debriefing thing so I thought I’d bring you one.”

  “In the bathroom?” I unwrapped my damp hair and let it fall loose down my back.

  Markus had the good grace to lift his lips in an attempt at a
smile. “Yeah, pretty stupid idea. Sorry.”

  “Yep, hanging around bathrooms doors is ill-advised in the real world, Markus, probably good thing to keep that in mind now that you’re a free man.” I reached for the mug. “I’ll take the tea though, thanks.”

  Markus nodded as he released the cup, trying to disguise the grin tugging at his mouth. He shoved his hands in his pockets as we made our way down the stairs from Nick’s sprawling apartment into The Paper Heart. The café was still closed even though the investigation was complete and all the children returned to their families safe and well—on the outside at least. I perched myself on a velvet-covered stool and glanced at Markus. It had been strange to see him in Nick’s home, at first. Strange to see all the puzzle pieces of my life working together to help me recover from my struggle with Arawn in the cave. But somehow, it felt right. Like for the first time in my life, I wasn’t drowning.

  I put my mug on the table and stared at Mark, waiting for him to speak. He hunched his shoulders and pulled his eyebrows together as he stared at the floor. “I wanted to say thanks for letting me spend time with Saoirse.” He kicked the leg of the table gently. “You’ve done a good job with her, Destiny. Everything that happened with Balor, and you leaving—it was probably for the best. I would have fucked everything up for both of you, I’ve got too much of the clan in me—that’s why I should probably move on. Snow says there’s a coven in Norway that might take me.”

  “You’re leaving?” I knotted my fingers together.

  Markus screwed his eyes up. “Come on, Destiny. You’ve got a got a good thing going here. The Free Witches want you, the Guild wants you, Patrick and Nick want you. And you want them. And Saoirse has you, and Aoife, and Izzy, and the guys—where would I fit in?”

  “As Saoirse’s dad, Markus. As my friend.” Another answer fluttered at the corner of my mind, but I locked it inside my heart, keeping it safe for another time. A different day. I folded my arms across my chest and stared at Markus. “I’m not going to beg you, Mark. I begged you three years ago and it didn’t do me any good. I’m not saying this for myself, I’m saying it for Saoirse—stay. I have an idea, a way to build a life for her here, and I think she deserves to have her father in her life if you’re willing to give us a chance?”

  “I am,” Markus blurted. His cheeks colored and dug his hands further into his pockets. “ If you really mean it, I’d like to try. But I’ll have to find work, maybe take some classes too—I don’t want to be a burden.”

  I laughed. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m going to work you to the bone. You’ve got two and a half years of early mornings and midnight nursery rhymes and stinky laundry to catch up on. I’m actually pretty bummed she potty trained already, I need another baby so you can make up for all the diapers you missed.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Markus said. Something about the arch of his eyebrows sent butterflies tumbling around in my stomach and I took a gulp of tea. Markus watched me with a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Okay, well, I better tell Nick I’m going to need that room after all.”

  Nick emerged from the kitchen, covered in flour, and leaned his weight against the counter. “Already has your name on it, man.”

  I stared at him. “Were you skulking in the kitchen the whole time, eavesdropper?”

  “I didn’t even know you were in the café until I heard my name.” Nick held up his hand. “Scouts honor.” He grinned at Markus. “Glad you decided to stick around, Markus. Patrick’s already stolen the room with the biggest bathroom, but jokes on him because Izzy and the guys are staying in the room next to him—headboards banging all night long.”

  Markus smirked and nodded at us as he headed back up the stairs to unpack the few belongings he allowed Aoife, Izzy, and Patrick to buy for him.

  Nick crossed the café, wiping his floury hands on his shirt, and sat down beside me. I wrapped a lock of hair around my finger and willed myself not to think the moment I’d seen his body shifting from a tiger into a man. A strong, beautiful man. Nick touched my wrist. “Destiny, I know I’ve said it already, but I really am sorry—”

  “I know,” I said. “I know you’re sorry, Nick. I believe you.” I took a deep breath. “And I forgive you.”

  Nick bowed his head and pressed his fist against his lips. His eyes were a chocolate storm. “You forgive me, but you never want to see my face again—that kind of forgiveness?”

  My mouth split into a wide grin for a moment. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. “The things you said that day in your studio…”

  “Were all true.” Nick leaned closer. “And I know I’m a massive jerk for not coming clean until it was too late, but I didn’t know how to tell the truth without losing you from my life. From Maya’s life.” Nick dropped to his haunches in front of my stool so our faces were level and he grabbed my two hands. “Don’t go to the coven, Destiny. Don’t pledge your loyalty to anyone until your certain it’s the right choice for you.”

  My stomach tumbled as his fingers traveled further up my arm and I felt as though my lungs had stopped working. My knees parted and he slipped between my thighs. “Nick, joining the coven was never about me, it was about protecting Soairse.”

  “Let the Guild protect her.” Nick’s face was inches from mine and his hands slipped from my arms down onto my waist. “Let me protect her, Destiny. Let me protect both of you. I swear, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you both safe.”

  Nick’s whisper caressed my skin and I groaned into his mouth as our lips connected in a clash of soft flesh and tangled emotions. His hands tightened around my waist and he lifted me off the stool and slid onto a chair so I was straddling his lap. He dragged my body against his and nipped my neck, claiming me as his own. I pulled away sharply and grabbed his hands in my face. “Nick, listen, I can’t make you any promises. I have an idea, but I’ve got to think about Saoirse and Markus. And Patrick. It can’t be just us.”

  “I don’t care,” Nick growled. His cupped my face in his large hand. “I don’t care about any of that, Destiny. I don’t care who else I have to put up with to have you in my life—even grumpy Markus. Just don’t shut me out, okay? Please.”

  His fingers trailed a path across my jaw and down my neck. I shivered as his touch dipped below the neckline of my shirt. His hands hovered over my chest and my breath came in deep gulps. I swallowed hard. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Nick brushed his lips over the soft skin on my throat and I moaned.

  “Okay, Nikolai. I’ll try to make it work.” Nick swept me off the chair and into the blessedly empty corridor, kicking the door of his studio open. He sat me on the edge of his worktable and fumbled with the buttons on my shirt, never taking his eyes off my face. I bit my lip as he eased the fabric off my shoulders with insistent fingers.

  “Gods, you are beautiful, Destiny.” Instinctively, I folded my arms over my breasts but in one swift motion, Nick unclasped my bra and exposed my naked flesh to the cool air. He groaned and descended on my breasts with his lips. I shuddered as he flicked his tongue against one of my nipples and my fingers clawed at his belt buckle. Nick grabbed my hands. “Shit, I don’t suppose you have any protection?”

  I screwed my face up and shook my head. “Not like I was planning to start the day with a hookup.” Despite myself, I stroked my finger over his belt buckle again, trailing my thumb over his fly. “Don’t you have any in the apartment?”

  Groaning, he grabbed my hand to stop me from exploring any lower and took a deep breath. “No, I haven’t exactly gotten out much.” His fingers wrapped around mine and he lifted them to his lips. “Guess the universe wants us to take it slow.”

  “The universe and the room full of people across the corridor—your boss, for example,” I said. Nick’s lips twisted into a smile and I ran my nails over his stubble. “What?”

  “Nothing.” Nick grinned. “I just can’t believe you’re really here. You have no idea how many times I’ve stood in the coffee shop and imagine
d lifting you up in my arms and laying you down on this floor.”

  “Yeah?” I smiled as I pulled my bra and shirt back on. Nick reached for me but I slithered out of his grip and pulled the door open. “Maybe we can try it again sometime.”

  Nick caught hold of my waist and pulled me against his body for a lingering kiss before we stepped into the corridor. He hooked his fingers into the back pocket of my jeans as he opened the door to the case room for me. “Don’t forget, you still owe me a date.”

  I smirked. “Hey, I promised I’d have a drink with you, and I did have a drink with you. A drink and some high-quality reality television, no less,” I said.

  “Is that what it’s called?” Nick raised an eyebrow and I elbowed him in the ribs. He grinned. “You know, I never did find out if Karl—”

  “Kyle,” I correct.

  “If Kyle proposed,” Nick said. “Maybe we should have another night in.” He leaned over so his lips were beside my ear and lowered his voice. “Maybe you could model that underwear for me.”

  I covered my face with one hand and leveled a punch at his bicep. “You’re such a fucker—I knew you’d seen those stupid mammy knickers. They were not intended for public display, shithead. Sorry that I don’t wear sexy black lingerie and crotchless panties when I watch T.V.”

  Nick peeled my fingers away from my face and snaked one strong arm around my waist, raising me onto my tiptoes. He lifted my chin so I was forced to meet his stare. “You dressed as a walking turd last Halloween, and I wanted to drag you into my bed. I think we’re safe to assume anything you wear is good with me, okay?”

  I took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Okay.”

  “Good.” Nick grinned. He glanced toward the top of the case room and placed a hand on the small of my back. “Go on, you should go sit with Patrick. Snow’s been giving him so much attention while you were recovering that I’m afraid she’s going to try and take him as her eighth man.”