by Deanna Chase
Bewitched By Moonlight
Last Witch Standing Series, Prequel
Deanna Chase
Bayou Moon Press, LLC
Copyright © 2018 by Deanna Chase
Editing: Anne Victory and Angie Ramey
Cover image: © Ravven
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, business establishments, or persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.
Bayou Moon Press, LLC
www.deannachase.com
Printed in the United States of America
Contents
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Deanna’s Book List
About the Author
About This Book
*Prequel to the Last Witch Standing Series*
* * *
The last thing Phoebe Kilsen, vampire tracker and witch extraordinaire, expects to be doing is hunting shifters. But when innocent vampires start to go missing in the city of New Orleans, she’s asked to do just that. It doesn’t take long before she has a shifter in her sights. The problem? It seems she’d rather kiss him than fight him.
Chapter One
“Kilsen? Is that you?” The vamp peered at me then slowly cast his gaze up and down, making no effort to hide his appreciation. “Goddamn, girl, you’re bringing it tonight.”
“Thanks.” I swept the fake long blond hair over my shoulder and moved to enter the club.
“Hold up.” He put his arm out, stopping me. “We need to pat you down. Extra security measures. Everyone’s being searched.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” My hand itched to grab the blade strapped to my thigh. No one touched me who wasn’t invited, and certainly none of Eadric Allcot’s goons.
“Afraid not. Boss’s orders.” He gave me a look that I guessed was supposed to convey sympathy but instead came off as a half-assed leer.
I stepped aside, whipped out my phone, and called Allcot.
“Kilsen,” he said after answering. “Got a name for me already?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, and if I can’t get through the door without being felt up, you’re going to have to find another tracker. Tell your lackey he’s not putting his hands on me.”
“You know the rules,” the powerful vamp said.
“Then I’m out. Good luck with that shifter problem.” I ended the call and stalked off.
The bouncer’s phone rang instantly, and a second later, he called, “Kilsen, stop.”
“Forget it.” Allcot had talked me into tracking down a dangerous shifter who’d been attacking members of his vamp family. But I knew better than anyone that Allcot couldn’t be trusted completely. He regularly used anything and everything he could to manipulate people he found useful. And considering I was a witch who worked for the Void, a top-secret branch of the Arcane—the government-sanctioned supernatural authority—I’d be damned if I’d give them a chance to figure out what kinds of weapons and spells I carried with me.
“He says you’re a VIP,” the vamp called. “Special privileges.”
“I really don’t give a shit.” I stopped and turned to give the vamp a pointed look. “No one touches me without permission.”
His lips curled into a knowing smile. “I just bet they don’t.” Then he swept a hand toward the entrance. “You’re in. No body search... this time.”
I rolled my eyes and contemplated heading for my car. I would have, too, if it wasn’t for the fact that the Void had just as much interest in tracking down the rogue shifter as Allcot did. And this way, Allcot would owe me. It was always good to have the most powerful vamp in the city owe me a favor.
As I swept past the bouncer, he said, “If you need someone to help you relax later, my shift ends at two. And it just so happens, I changed the sheets this morning.”
I ignored him. This wasn’t the first time Branson had suggested he’d like to get his fangs on my goods. I was certain it wouldn’t be the last. And under other circumstances, I might have considered it. There was no denying he was hotter than hell. Tall, lean, and muscles in all the right places. Plus, he had dark hair and soulful eyes that could bring a girl to her knees. But I didn’t date vamps, especially vamps that worked for Eadric Allcot.
Being that I was a vampire hunter, it was a real drag to be tracking down your boyfriend’s buddy. The potential for conflict and suspicion was through the roof. And drama wasn’t really my thing.
I sashayed my way into Night Shift, the bar that was the after-hours supernatural place to be. The witches, fae, shifters, and vampires of New Orleans all spent time in the speakeasy-like watering hole, making it the best place to hear the latest supernatural gossip and rumblings. It also meant the bar was ripe for conflict when supernatural tensions were high in the city. And tonight wasn’t any different.
Already there was a small group of shifters snarling at three vamps who were sitting at the VIP table in the back of the bar. They were easy to spot. The vampires were dressed in expensive suits and silk ties, while the shifters were wearing jeans and T-shirts. Most of the vamps worked for the high-powered vampire corporation Allcot owned, while the shifters were more independent. Most were self-employed musicians or artists or small-business owners, preferring to not be beholden to anyone else.
I stood back, my elbows propped on the bar, as I watched and waited to see what would go down. A woman with a sultry voice stood on the stage as she sang about the mysteries of the bayou. Other supernaturals swayed in time on the dance floor, unaware of the growing discord heating up between the small group of wolves and vamps.
“Something to drink?” the bartender asked me.
I turned, recognizing the blond vamp. His name was Hale, and he’d been a runaway who’d been one of my informants before he had been turned by one of Allcot’s crew. I smiled. “Club soda with lime, please.”
He nodded once and quickly made my drink. As he placed it on the bar, he asked, “Anything else for you, ma’am?”
I felt a self-satisfied smile tug at my lips. He hadn’t recognized me. My disguise was on point, despite the fact Branson, the bouncer, hadn’t been fooled. That was understandable, though. Branson had been around forever and had seen me play every role from wide-eyed innocent college freshman to sultry black-widow escort. I handed Hale cash. “No thanks. Keep the change.”
“Thanks.” He shoved the bill into the cash register and moved down the bar none the wiser.
Sipping my soda, I focused on the shifters and vamps at the VIP table. Two of the vampires had taken a seat, and all but one of the shifters had retreated. That was a good sign. Even though the shifter was invading the vamp’s personal space and the vamp was scowling in response, it was unlikely a full-fledged fight was going to break out. If tensions were running that high, they’d all still be on full alert. I scanned the faces of the shifters, committing them to memory, and then promptly dismissed them. No shifter that was picking off vampires would be so visible.
With drink in hand, I slid off the barstool and strategically made my way through the club, assessing and dismissing the various patrons. There weren’t a ton of vampires on the scene,
but there were quite a few shifters and various witches I recognized from the administrative department of the Arcane—mostly the type who had moderate ability levels. They could probably cast charms or make simple potions, but really powerful witches were somewhat rare. There were also a few humans hanging out with the vampires; the ones who willingly gave up their blood for a chance at eternal life, should the vampire deem them worthy.
None of them were who or what I was looking for. I made my way to the stage and dropped a couple bills into the singer’s tip bucket. Then I discreetly joined the fringes of a group of women dancing together. One of them gave me a welcoming smile and waved me in closer.
The perfect cover.
As I raised my hands over my head and swayed my hips, I once again scanned the club. And that’s when I noticed him walk through the entrance. He had broad well-defined shoulders, long lean muscular legs, and a five o’clock shadow that would bring any woman to her knees. There was no mistaking what he was—he was rough around the edges with an undefinable animalistic air that just screamed shifter. Plus, he was alert, taking in the patrons in much the same way I had. He scanned the room, studying the crowd, careful to not linger on any one person for too long. His attention was deliberate and focused.
And when he turned his gaze in my direction, I made sure to focus on the woman dancing in my eyeline. Making eye contact with my mark was the last thing I wanted to do. At least not yet anyway.
“Hey, sexy, looks like you need a dance partner,” a male voice said into my ear from behind me.
I turned, smiled sweetly at the blond vamp, and shook my head. “Not tonight, handsome. My date just walked in. But thanks for the offer.”
Undeterred, the well-dressed vamp took a step closer and ran a finger down my neck. “Forget your date. I have a black card, a fast car, and a private plane ready to take you anywhere you want to go. Just name your destination.”
Of course he did. And I was willing to bet those shitty lines worked on plenty of women who were more than happy to go along with his bullshit as long as he showered them with luxuries. It didn’t hurt that he was handsome in an all-American-football-player way. He was tall and had well-defined shoulders and long muscular legs. There was no doubt he’d been an athlete before he’d been turned. It was unlucky for him that I preferred my men tall, dark, and hot blooded. I raised one eyebrow and tilted my head to the side, giving him better access to my neck. “And what will we do once we get there?”
Lust flashed in his pale-blue eyes as he licked his lips and feathered my pulse with his thumb. “Anything you want, sweetheart.”
“Right.” I grabbed his wrist, twisting away from his unwelcome advance. My nails dug into his cold skin as I gave him an icy stare. “Didn’t you hear me, vamp? I said my date was waiting for me.”
He tried to pull his hand away, but I squeezed more tightly and felt the warmth of magic spread over my palm. He froze, a look of horror flashing through his formerly smug gaze. “Let go, witch.”
I gave him a self-satisfied smile. The ring I was wearing held a charm that easily zapped a younger vampire’s strength. In his current position, he was no stronger than a mere mortal. “Try to enthrall anyone else tonight, and I’ll kick your ass, got it?”
His horror turned to indignation. “I was just trying to make my interest known. But had I known you were a vamp-hating witch, I wouldn’t have bothered. Consider my invitation revoked.”
“Ouch,” I said, my tone mocking. “That’s not nice.”
“Let go, witch,” he ordered.
“Gladly. Just as soon as you promise to keep your fangs out of any unsuspecting women tonight.”
He hissed.
I squeezed harder. “Or I can cast another charm designed to render you useless for the next twenty-four hours. Your choice.”
“Bitch.”
I shrugged. No use denying it. “Just say the words, and you won’t have to see me for the rest of the night.”
“Am I going to be bound?” he asked.
I nodded. The ring on my other finger would make sure of that. “I’m not just any witch.”
“Kilsen,” he hissed, sounding disgusted. “Allcot’s goons were right. You are a fucking pain in the ass.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said but internally winced. Getting made by a low-level vamp because I was throwing my weight around was a total rookie move. “Just say the words, and we can call it a night, all right?”
“Fine. I won’t bite anyone who doesn’t ask for it.” He glanced at the clock, smirked, and added, “Tonight anyway.”
“Before sunrise,” I said, steel in my tone. I wasn’t putting up with any of that bullshit.
He scowled, showing me his fangs. “Fine. I won’t bite anyone who doesn’t ask for it before sunrise. Now let me go.”
The tingling magic escaped my ring and transferred to him instantly. Flinching, he pierced me with his dark eyes. “Stay away from me, Kilsen. The next time, I’ll be ready for you.”
“Of course you will,” I said dryly and released him. “But don’t worry, I have many more tricks up my sleeve.”
His nostrils flared in anger, then he turned and stalked off into the crowd.
I smoothed my satin halter top and took a deep breath. Time to get it together, Phoebs, I mentally told myself. I was supposed to be blending in, not cluing everyone in on my badass-witch status.
There was no better way to draw attention to oneself in a supernatural club than to let on how powerful you were. All that accomplished was one of two things: either other supes were in awe and wanted to learn your secrets, or they were threatened and wanted to take you out. And a melting-pot-type club like Night Shift was much more likely to have more of the latter outcome than the former.
Time to rein it in and get to work. Luck was on my side. The club had filled enough that no one seemed to have noticed my altercation with the vampire. At least, almost no one.
The lone shifter I’d spied walking into the club only minutes ago was looking right at me, his gaze piercing as if I were the most interesting thing in the room. Or the most dangerous. If he was the shifter taking out vamps, then I was about to become both.
“Hi,” I said as I slid onto the barstool beside him. “Enjoy the show?”
He stared into the crowd and shrugged. “It’s always entertaining to watch a vamp get his ass kicked. Would’ve been better if you’d staked his ass.”
I raised one eyebrow. “Not a fan of the blood suckers, I take it.”
“What shifter is?” he asked, his tone matter-of-fact.
It was a nonanswer. Most shifters and vamps only tolerated each other in the supernatural world. “Fair enough. They aren’t always my favorite either.”
“That was fairly obvious,” he said, his lips curving into a sexy half-smile. “But you seemed to handle yourself.” His gaze slowly swept over me, his soulful dark eyes studying me with an intensity that made my skin heat.
My blood started to hum, and my body careened toward him, seemingly all on its own. And when he raised his gaze to meet mine, all the noise in the club vanished. Electricity sparked between us, and suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to press my lips to his.
“Witch, right?” he guessed.
“What?” I stiffened and jerked back, horrified by my reaction. What had just happened?
“You’re some kind of witch,” he clarified, casting a quick glance at my hands then my chest. “It’s the jewelry. Dead giveaway.”
I grabbed the medallion pendant clasped around my neck and nodded. “Yeah, witch.”
“A fucking powerful one, I’d guess, considering the hardware.”
“Perhaps,” I said, shrugging as if his observation had been no big deal. But in truth, now I was more suspicious than ever. He knew more about witches than the average shifter. It wasn’t exactly common practice for witches to store spells in jewelry. The fact that he’d picked up on mine meant he’d either done his homework or someone close to h
im had the same ability. I was guessing he’d done his research.
The only question was why?
Chapter Two
“So what brings you to New Orleans, Mr.…?”
He gave me a hint of a smile. “You can call me Dax. And you are?”
“Lexi,” I lied. It was fine if he knew I was a powerful witch. This was a supernatural hangout after all. But personal information was off-limits. Not when I was supposed to be undercover. And not when I was hunting a rogue shifter. “So, Dax, are you in town on business or pleasure?”
That smile of his turned almost dangerously sexy. “Both.”
“In that case”–I stood up and held a hand out to him—“let’s get started.”
He studied me for a moment. “What did you have in mind?”
I grabbed his hand and tugged him off the stool. “You’re going to dance with me.”
He stopped midstep. “I’m not sure—”
“No excuses. Come on.” I yanked on his arm, practically dragging him to the dance floor. “You said work and pleasure. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you sit there all night people watching and pretend that’s what it means to enjoy the Crescent City.” Besides, how was I going to plant my magical tracker on him if I didn’t have an excuse to get my hands on him?
His jaw was set, and he wore a slightly pained expression as he reluctantly let me haul him to the dance floor, but the moment I stopped and slipped my arms around his neck, his expression cleared. And when I pressed myself up against his rock-hard body, swaying to the soulful music, his lips curved, and then I was in his arms.
Our eyes met and holy hell. An electric current of intense desire hit me so hard, I stumbled.