A Little Dark Magic (The Little Coven Series Book 2)

by Isabel Wroth

  “Something’s wrong with Isaiah, and it’s been wrong ever since ye offed Bronagh. It’s been subtle, a tiny tic now and then where Isaiah wasnae himself, and for a long while, I dinnae think anything of it.

  “In fact, it wasnae until after ye’d disappeared and I started tae question why we werenae moving Heaven and Earth tae find ye like we should’hae been, that I really started tae notice.”

  Kerrigan glanced up to see Maksim visibly withholding the questions he had, glaring at Hector through narrow eyes.

  She had questions herself, but the more agitated Hector got, the thicker his accent became, and it took effort to wade through the thickness of his brogue to understand what he was urgently trying to tell them.

  “And then ye show up with yer wench in tow, proclaiming tae all and sundry yer certain one of us betrayed ye—like a bloody fool. It’s a sad damn day when a mon cannae trust his own brothers, but fer chrissakes, what were ye thinkin’ comin up in here alone? Dinnae ye learn yer lesson after getting snatched up by a horde of hags, who threw yer arse in a dungeon?”

  “He isn’t alone,” Kerrigan snapped, edging on being seriously offended.

  After everything she’d done to him, Hector looked at her like she was a sweet little dolly with nothing between her ears but fluff.

  “Och, sure, ye’ve got juice, and a powerful mean streak in ye, nae denying that. But how many puir bastards can ye string up at a time while avoiding a bullet tae the head? Or a bomb, eh?

  “Ye’ve got piss and vinegar where it counts, but numbers win battles, lass, and tae have numbers, ye need allies ye can trust or ye’ll fail and everyone ye love will die. So far, all ye got is me, and I doona much care fer ye.”

  “Did you just… mansplain the situation to me?” Outraged, Kerrigan looked to Maksim, certain she’d misheard. “He mansplained at me!”

  Maks seemed to not understand the seriousness of Hector’s transgression, and to be fair, Maks probably had no idea what the word meant.

  Too fired up to explain the dangers of mansplaining, Kerrigan turned her fury back to Hector and drilled her finger at him.

  “Your feelings toward me count for no more than a fart in a bottle, Hector. I held Maksim in my arms and spent twelve years thinking I’d watched him die, and if you think for one infinitesimal second I would let him walk into a situation where that might happen again—for real this time—you’re off your damn rocker.

  “When we got here and he let everyone in on the story about what happened, he left out the details of exactly where my magical talents lie to protect the Ace up his sleeve, but I’m going to spell it out for you. I deal with the dead. You, are technically dead, and so is every damn vampire in this building.

  “With one word, I can open up the veil between this world and the spirit realm, and have access to every single soul not at rest since Caine first killed Abel. My coven—while small—is nothing to thumb your nose at either. All I have to do is ask, and they’ll collectively pool their magic to boost mine for however long it takes to drop a magical tactical nuke on this place.

  “Do not make the mistake of thinking I’m just a pretty face with a temper. I have the allies and the numbers to win whatever battle comes our way. I have legions, and I swear on every dark goddess I can name, I will rain hell down on anyone or anything, who makes a move toward Maksim or me. Got it?”

  Hector seemed to be at a loss for words as she finished her rant, glancing back and forth between her and Maksim with his bushy brows located closer to his hairline.

  “Well, then. Guess we’re nae as fucked as I thought.”

  “We aren’t fucked at all,” Kerrigan corrected, preparing to ensure she had access to every ghost from here to the Hudson.

  *****

  After giving him a droll look in response to the opulence of the ballroom, Kerrigan closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and went somewhere else. Fascinated by the lack of ceremony or tools, Maks watched her eyes moving back and forth behind her closed lids, searching for something.

  Beside him, Hector gave a brutish grunt.

  “Changed my mind.”

  Maksim glanced quickly away from Kerrigan to see the thoughtful look on Hector’s face. “About what?”

  Hector’s chin jerked up as he folded his massive arms across his muscular chest, something close to gentleness hiding behind the aggressive mask he wore to fool everyone else.

  Without a doubt, Hector was as violent and bloodthirsty as any of the rest of the Austmathr clan, but the truth of why Hector was so addicted to spending his nights with prostitutes was because deep down where very few could see, Hector adored women.

  No matter their shape, size, or socioeconomic status, Hector wanted nothing more than to love and protect females.

  His truest desire was to someday have a woman of his own, but he was terrified of what it would mean to have such a vulnerability.

  The fear of losing his Bride to their maker’s cruelty was so deeply ingrained into Hector’s mind, it kept Hector from forming any sort of emotional attachment to a single female.

  In bedding only females who accepted money for their time, Hector found what peace he could by fulfilling his need to provide and protect her without ever having to spend more than a single night in her company.

  “I like your woman.”

  “She cursed you,” Maksim reminded him with great amusement because there couldn’t possibly have been anything else Kerrigan could do to Hector that would honestly bother him, aside from taking away his ability to get an erection.

  Hector clicked his tongue, obviously trying not to smile.

  “Aye, and she cursed at me. Never known a woman tae do either of those things before. I doonae frighten her.”

  Maksim hadn’t ever thought Hector would care one way or the other if he frightened someone, but from that telling statement said with relief and satisfaction, it clearly did matter.

  “I’m not sure there’s much that does frighten her.”

  “You say that as though it’s a bad thing,” Hector answered, giving him a deeper look.

  Maks shrugged, unbuttoning his coat to more comfortably settle his hands in his pockets.

  “Bad, no. It makes her ruthless and far more suited to being a vampire’s Bride than I could have ever thought possible. You’ve seen her wicked side.”

  “Wicked?” Hector gave a bark of laughter. “That woman is downright evil when crossed, but I’m nae so blind tae realize her darkness only seeps out when someone she loves is in danger.”

  Maksim shook his head, deeply satisfied to know Hector felt that way, and he wasn’t wrong.

  “I worry it will make her more of a target.”

  “She became a target as soon as ye made her yers, Maks,” Hector told him softly. “All ye can do now is reclaim the empire ye started building before ye were betrayed and surround her with as many loyal warriors as ye can find. With a queen like that at yer side, the very mountains will beg tae move out of yer way, lest they face her wrath.”

  Truer words. “Will you help me keep her safe?”

  Hector inclined his head, his gazed fixed on Kerrigan, gleaming with admiration. “Till my last breath, little brother.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Isaiah was the last of the Austmathr brothers to arrive in the Petite Ballroom, completely out of place beneath the glittering chandeliers and gleaming marble floors. He looked like he was about to don a dusty felt Outback Fedora, a leather jacket, and pick up a whip to go swinging into action in some long-forgotten temple.

  With his dark brown hair and soulful blue eyes, Isaiah could have belonged to any number of nationalities, which Kerrigan assumed made his job in the field that much easier.

  His beard was cropped close to enhance the firm square of his jaw and frame the plump swell of his lips.

  He was of average height and built, not so remarkable as to stand out among a crowd, but not so unremarkable that he wouldn’t turn heads and be remembered.

 
The way he prowled across the parquet floors, how he carried himself, made it impossible to overlook the aura of otherworldly menace oozing from his pores.

  Isaiah raised his arms to encompass them all, a cool smirk curving his handsome mouth, his voice smooth as silk, and frigid as a glacier.

  “Well, here we are, all together again.”

  “It’s been a long time since you’ve been home, brother.” Dhiraj’s greeting was curiously devoid of emotion or inflection. Without having asked a question, Isaiah didn’t answer, except to nod.

  “How was Argentina?” Virico inquired with an open smile. “Did you visit the bordello I recommended?”

  Isaiah gave Virico a droll, unimpressed look. “I was there gathering assets and contacts, Virico. Not on vacation.”

  Virico blew a rude raspberry. “You know what they say about boys who work and forget to play.”

  “I’m hardly dull,” Isaiah replied, turning his attention next to Maksim. “Welcome home, little brother. I’m glad to see the rumors of your death were greatly exaggerated.”

  “As am I,” Maksim answered shortly. The tension in the room was thick and heavy, all of them spaced out with at least ten feet between each brother.

  Thomas and Hector stood slightly closer to her and Maks, but still far enough to react should someone get combative.

  Isaiah looked to her next, his gaze blatantly disrespectful as he gave Kerrigan a slow, head-to-toe perusal.

  “Thomas said you’d brought home a Bride, but I envisioned someone more… elegant.”

  Kerrigan snorted even when Maks stiffened beside her, bristling with indignation.

  “That’s okay. She thought you’d be taller.”

  The tiniest smirk canted Isaiah’s feminine lips in response to Kerrigan’s sass.

  “At least she’s got spunk.”

  “She’s got a bit more than that, brother.” Hector chortled dangerously. “I’d wager from the look on her face, we shouldnae keep talkin’ aboot her in the third person.”

  Isaiah gave a careless shrug, waving his hand at the family circle. “I’m pleased to see all of you, but I don’t understand why I was summoned home like a naughty pup. Are you calling us home for war, Maks?”

  Maksim tilted his head to the side curiously, his grip on her hand tightening.

  “The only person I’m at war with is the one who set me up to be captured, violated my Bride with his thrall, and subsequently stalked her to ensure I remained exactly where I was for the last twelve years.”

  All eyes were on Isaiah and his reaction, but Kerrigan sought out the person who showed the least amount of response.

  He stood there with his hands in his pockets, focused on Isaiah but only because looking anywhere else might be noted.

  He thought he was going to get away with it. He thought no one could possibly find out because he’d been so clever, making it seem as though she was dangerous and perhaps even responsible for Maksim’s disappearance.

  The employees at Armistice contracted to follow her in secret thought they were helping to figure out where she might have stashed Maks or buried his body.

  He convinced them they were doing a good thing. That their work was vital to the safety of the company.

  None of them ever thought to question it or even suspected they were helping to ensure Maksim didn’t try to escape.

  “You think I would do such a thing?” Isaiah scoffed with genuine surprise. He didn’t even attempt to disguise how it made him feel to be indirectly accused of such a betrayal.

  “Maks, I came to you and asked you to help all of us by taking control of the company before Bronagh ruined us. I wanted you at the head of the table; I still do. I would never betray you or hurt your woman.”

  Maksim inclined his head, lifting Kerrigan’s left hand to his lips for a kiss. She couldn’t help but think, with a hint of amusement, that Maks was ensuring she couldn’t go off the rails and instinctively throw out her left hand.

  “I know it wasn’t you, Isaiah.”

  “Oh, really?” Isaiah retorted hotly. “Then who was it? Because if it was one of us—”

  “It was,” Maksim confirmed, which only seemed to incise Isaiah further.

  Isaiah scrutinized each of the vampires, in turn, his face flushed a furious red.

  “You’re certain?”

  “I am. Kerrigan confirmed it a little while ago.”

  “Kerrigan confirmed it?” Isaiah repeated incredulously, raising his hand to point dubiously at her. “Her? Your Bride? Well, that’s convenient, isn’t it? How could she possibly determine in so short a time which of your brothers would stoop to capture and imprison you? Tell me, Maks, I’m dying to hear that answer.”

  “Funny you should mention death,” Kerrigan drawled, really getting tired of being underestimated and seen as nothing but Maksim’s arm candy. Sure, she wasn’t old as dirt, but she’d been around this block enough times to know the score.

  “I’m curious to know who you’ve decided is responsible as well,” Aubin interjected, not bothering to conceal his doubt or his contempt for her.

  Virico raised his hand like a little boy waiting to be called on. “I think it’s safe to say we all want to know how you’ve solved the mystery.”

  Kerrigan waved her hand at herself. “I didn’t decide or solve anything. The dead keep no secrets.”

  “What does that mean?” Dhiraj asked, his thick brows coming together in a deep frown.

  “It means I know all your secrets,” Kerrigan replied easily. “I can prove it if you like.”

  Thomas gave a short bow, leaning slightly forward to meet her gaze with an inviting smile.

  “Please do. You know how curious I am about your abilities. The things you could do for this company…”

  Kerrigan shook her head at the relentless little bugger. “Every third Friday of the month, Thomas goes to visit a woman called Lady Ruby. She’s a high-end prostitute who charges her clients ten grand a night for her services. Thomas pays twenty grand to meet with Ruby’s brother, Lucas, who works as the head of the IT department at Blackwing Security.”

  Thomas flushed a ruddy red, but at least he didn’t bother to deny it.

  “It’s a business investment! Lucas is a veritable font of information, and he hates his job. I’ve offered him a lucrative position once he gives up the entire technological infrastructure to our biggest competitor.”

  Kerrigan winked at Thomas and didn’t mention the money he’d anonymously donated to help pay for Ruby’s daughter, Grace, to continue receiving the very best medical care to treat the lymphoma slowly eating away at her body.

  With the donation, Ruby had recently retired from her life as a prostitute in order to spend all her time with Grace.

  When Lucas was ready to jump ship and join Armistice, Thomas ensured he would be a loyal employee for life.

  Moving on, Kerrigan gestured to Isaiah. “While you’re out making sure Hector and the other Armistice operatives in the field have access to all the tools, cash, and contacts they need to complete their missions, you’re also setting up schools and orphanages for children displaced by war and natural disasters. You did visit Virico’s favorite brothel in Argentina in order to hire one of the hookers as the full-time caretaker of one of your orphanages.”

  Isaiah narrowed his eyes dangerously at her. “There is no possible way you could know that.”

  “Her name is Pia Ojedo,” Kerrigan replied with a cool smile. “Her husband and three young sons were murdered by the local drug cartel—which you annihilated—and without her husband to care for her, Pia was forced to resort to selling her body to survive.”

  Isaiah opened and closed his mouth, visibly struggling to comprehend how Kerrigan could have that kind of information.

  She could practically see him spinning scenarios to try and explain her omnipotence.

  “Every Sunday evening, Aubin sits down to play Go with Eliana from accounting. Eliana lets him win every few games, just to keep thi
ngs interesting.

  "They’ve never had sex; Eliana is suffering from PTSD from a past relationship, and all she wants is a friend. Aubin is dying to help heal her psychological wounds, but he’s patient and hopes one day she’ll come to see him as more than a friend.”

  Kerrigan lifted her brows at Aubin to invite whatever he had to say, but he remained sullen and mute.

  “Do me, do me!” Virico demanded with the exuberance of a child eager for a treat.

  Kerrigan bit into her cheek to try and stop herself from smiling, but considering his secret, she couldn’t.

  “Your entire apartment is one big BDSM dungeon, and your pet’s name is Bob. He sleeps in a cage beneath your bed and wears a frighteningly large anal plug with a pink corckscrew piggy tail attached to the end at all times.

  “Bob isn’t gay, but he was beating up a prostitute who refused to service him in an alley you just happened to be walking past three years ago, so you enthralled him and brought him home to be your pig and serve you as punishment.

  “Bob also gave his entire life savings to the prostitute he was abusing at your order. You love seeing Bob suffer; Bob wants to murder you in your sleep, hence the cage.”

  Virico pointed at her with a randy grin on his face but was looking at his brothers.

  “That’s so true.”

  “It’s ironic,” Kerrigan went on, circling her finger to encompass the Austmathr clan. “All of you give Hector shit about his addiction to prostitutes, yet each of you are involved with a prostitute in one way or another.

  "Hector’s favorite are the sexy voluptuous women who are soft to cuddle with. It’s rare he ever has sex with any of them, which is why he’s not really that upset that I neutered him.”

  “I bloody well am!” Hector insisted with a nasty shake of his fist. Kerrigan blew him a playful kiss, earning a territorial growl from Maksim.

  “How could you possibly know all these things about us?” Dhiraj asked with curiosity that bordered on hostility.

  Kerrigan pinched the hem of her skirt to take a quick curtsy.

  “Because I’m a badass.”