Wicked Unveiled

by J. N. Colon

  Marisol didn’t skip a beat. “I kicked his lying ass to the curb.” A dangerous smile split her plump lips. “He went back to the hole he crawled out of with his tail between his legs.”

  “Woah.” Lana finished her soda with a slurp. “I don’t even want to know what he did to piss you off.”

  Riley scoffed. “I do.”

  Lana rolled her eyes and stood, nudging the redhead. “Come on. We’re supposed to babysit the Johnson twins.”

  “Oops. I forgot.” Riley stood, tiny lines forming across her forehead. “Remind me why we agreed to watch those two hellions?”

  Lana grabbed her purse and flicked her long black and blue hair over her shoulder. “The Johnsons pay a butt-load because they know their kids come straight from hell.”

  Riley snagged one more nacho for the road before letting Lana drag her off to demon preschool.

  “Those two are always a trip.” Marisol shook her head and pushed her glasses down to cover her eyes. “Are you going to be okay when they leave for school?”

  “Yeah.” I’d be sad to see them go, but the further from me they were, the safer they’d be.

  Marisol nudged me. “Plus, you’ve got that hot voodoo caster to keep you busy.” She wiggled her perfectly plucked and fluffed brows. “And Lucas is dying to win you over.”

  I slid my plate back from the other side of the table and dragged a fry through ketchup. “Not happening. Like ever.”

  Marisol stole one of Riley’s carefully constructed nachos. “Why didn’t you tell me he kissed you?”

  “I was trying to forget about it. And we’ve both been a little preoccupied.” My gaze lingered over Baron Samedi’s vevè on her wrist. I was surprised she hadn’t covered it up.

  “I guess.” She crammed a loaded chip in her mouth and moaned.

  Only Marisol could still stuff her face when we were having a serious conversation. “How are you doing with everything?” I asked, a lump attempting to lodge in my throat.

  Marisol gave a nonchalant shrug. “We’ve got time. Bastien’s sure they’ll find a way to stop that crazy voodoo guy from taking either one of us.”

  I was glad someone had confidence because I was feeling less hopeful.

  “Angel, I want you to promise me something.” She wiped her hands on a napkin and faced me. “When the time comes, if we don’t have a way to stop him, I want you to promise me you won’t—”

  Marisol’s words were cut off by a saccharine voice. “Angel and Marisol, what a lovely surprise running into you.” Trisha Belmont’s words dripped with sarcasm.

  “I thought I smelled cheap, knock-off perfume.” Marisol loudly sipped her coffee. “And desperation.”

  Trisha’s blue eyes narrowed. “I haven’t seen that poor guy you’ve been bossing around all summer. What’s his name, Jesse? Did you scare him off already?” She shifted, her boobs nearly popping out of the painted-on pink dress.

  Marisol’s smile turned downright evil. “I’m finished with him. Better be careful before I decide I’m finished with you.”

  The blonde’s cheeks paled. Trisha was lucky Marisol’s powers weren’t unbound. She’d be in deep doo if they were.

  “What are you smiling at, little girl?” Trisha’s attention was now fully on me, her scarlet lips pulled into a sneer.

  “Nothing.” Just your sad attempt to upset my big sister.

  “Keep on smiling then.” She flipped her over-processed strands behind her shoulder. “I’m heading to my daddy’s shop, and I know a certain hot Cajun man is working there right now.” She fluttered her fake lashes.

  Heat spilled through my chest, and my powers scratched at the surface. If she were a little closer, I might have been tempted to dump Lana’s salad on her dress.

  Marisol’s deep, smoky laugh interrupted my evil scheming. “You’re pathetic, Trisha. Etie will never pick you over my sister. He loves her. Just give up already. It’s sad.”

  The haughty smile slipped right off her face. “Why don’t you go back to Tulane, you uppity skank?” Trisha pivoted and marched down the sidewalk. Her tall stiletto got stuck in a crack, and she nearly face-planted into the concrete.

  Marisol choked on her coffee. “That was the highlight of my day.” She slapped her chest a couple of times to clear her airways. “You know you have nothing to worry about, right?”

  “Yeah.” After Etie told me he loved me, I was less threatened by the cheap blonde. It still irked me she always flaunted herself around him like a pony trying to win a prize.

  “Where was I before we were so rudely interrupted?” Marisol shifted her body toward mine again, crossing her arms against her chest. “I want you to promise me you won’t go sacrificing yourself to save me, Angel.”

  “Mar,” I tsked. She wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for me. If I’d only called the right voodoo loa on the dock that night…

  “I’m serious, Angel.” She removed her glasses and set them on the table. “I’m your big sister. I’m supposed to protect you.”

  A lump was already rising in my throat. Why did people keep telling me to let the voodoo king take my sister?

  “Etie needs you,” Marisol said, anticipating the protests on the tip of my tongue.

  Ugh. She wasn’t playing fair. “I know. I just—”

  She kicked my chair. “No, Flaca. You’re not saving me this time.”

  I kicked her chair back, barely making an impact. “Don’t call me that.”

  “Just promise me,” she hissed.

  I rolled my eyes. Did Etie put her up to this? I wouldn’t be surprised if he had. “Fine,” I grumbled. “But it won’t come to that. We’ll find a way to stop him.”

  She smiled and grabbed one of my sliders, nearly cramming the whole thing in her mouth. “I know. This is just in case.”

  “Right.” Just in case we couldn’t find a way to stop a voodoo loa before Fete Gede. And if we didn’t, not everyone would come out unscathed no matter what I did.

  My eyes snapped open to my darkened room, the moonlight casting a silvery glow over the white and sage furniture. Dread sank to the bottom of my stomach. Something was off. I could feel it.

  A cold, icy breath blew across my neck, stirring my hair.

  I scrambled into a sitting position, yanking the covers up to my chin. This was one of those times I was glad Etie had the urge to constantly sneak into my bed at night. Except now he wasn’t there.

  Hell’s bells. Where was my crazy Cajun? He couldn’t still be mad at me.

  I glanced at the clock on my bedside table. It was just after midnight. Was he working at Mr. Belmont’s store? Or had that cheap blonde detained him?

  Shadows stirred along my walls, reminding me the reason behind Etie’s absence wasn’t important. The presence in my room was. Deep, rumbling laughter echoed.

  Oh great. Baron Samedi’s spirits were back to haunt me.

  “Go away,” I hissed, using magic to cut on the lamp next to me. “I’m not in the mood for your crap. Go party in the spirit world.”

  The male spirit who had attacked me at the Leroux house earlier this summer appeared, tipping his bowler hat toward me. “Just came to have a little fun with you.” The stripes in his suit moved like writhing worms.

  The woman who poured rum down my mouth in the spirit world appeared, dancing around my bed. “Oh, ma chère, you need to lighten up.” She took a pull off her cigarette, scarlet lipstick smearing it. “Come dance with us.”

  Flamboyant music rose through the room. I clamped my hands over my ears, but it did nothing to drown it out. The two continued to circle the bed, the fringes on the woman’s flapper dress swaying. The guy reached out and tugged on my hair.

  “Stop it!” This was ridiculous. My powers were unbound now. I was a witch. I could make them stop.

  I flicked my hand out, trying to use telekinesis. They dematerialized and appeared across the room within seconds, dodging my magic.

  The woman’s shrill laughter boomed against
the walls. “You have to do better than that!”

  My window suddenly slid open. The music halted, and the voodoo spirits disappeared. A familiar head of dark hair poked inside.

  Relief spilled through my veins, and I relaxed against the pillows. My heart was practically beating out of my chest.

  “Angeline?” Etie removed the lollipop from his mouth and took in my frazzled appearance. “What’s the matter?” He crawled in, closing the window behind him with a Vondou word and the wave of his hand.

  I dragged my fingers through my hair. “Nothing,” I lied. He was already worried enough without adding the haunting spirits to the pile of crap. “I couldn’t sleep. Where have you been?” I hated the needy tone in my voice.

  “I was working.” He folded down on the end of my bed and began removing his boots. The air between us was still riddled with tension.

  “Were you working at Mr. Belmont’s?” I asked, absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on my pillowcase.

  “Yeah, and then I went home to shower.” He glanced over his shoulder. “You’re not still worried about Trisha, right?”

  “No, but I hadn’t heard from you all day and…” I missed your stubborn ass.

  A long sigh drifted out of Etie and he turned back around, his shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, cher. I should have called. I was just…” His words trailed off, but he didn’t need to finish his sentence. Mad. He was just mad.

  I chewed on my bottom lip, staring at his taut back. Etie dragged his fingers through his hair, mussing up the damp strands. Couldn’t he just forgive me already and come over here?

  Etie drew his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor. Holy voodoo hotness. My tongue practically lolled out of my mouth. The massive snake tattoo coiled around his back, like it was ready to jump from his skin at the snap of the bokor’s fingers. The scales shifted, sparkling beneath the moonlight streaming in from the windows.

  Etie’s muscles flexed as he felt the change. He glanced at me, his expression darkening. “My koulèvkay is trying to say hello to you.”

  “Um, sorry?” My palm tingled where the magical voodoo snake had bitten me to restore my powers. Etie said it was a side effect. A sort of connection had been formed between his koulèvkay and me.

  The bokor stood to his six-foot-something height and unbuttoned his jeans, dropping them to the floor. Lots and lots of skin greeted me. His black boxer briefs didn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination.

  I really needed to check my chin for drool.

  A loud crunch echoed as Etie bit into the cherry-flavored lollipop. He yanked the bare white stem out, and a droplet of sugar lingered on his bottom lip.

  I swallowed hard. Was it wrong to want to lick that little morsel up?

  My cheeks heated at the images rolling through my mind. That wasn’t the only thing I wanted to lick.

  Gah! What was wrong with me? I was such a little hussy now.

  Etie still hadn’t said a word since he unexpectedly dropped trou. Neither had I. I shouldn’t be expected to form coherent thoughts when the Cajun Casanova was gracing me with his near nakedness. He tossed the stem into the wastebasket and finished devouring the candy, his tongue flicking out and scooping up the sugary bit that had me mesmerized.

  Yum.

  He bent and slid his hand beneath the covers. His long fingers curled around my ankle, and he yanked.

  I squeaked as I was tugged down the mattress, my head bouncing on the pillows. “What are you—”

  The Cajun Casanova crawled onto the bed, a wild, feral glint to his eyes. “You’ve been a very bad girl, Angeline.” His husky voice and the promise of bad things in his tone sent chills through my body.

  Humina, humina, humina…

  Etie had already reduced me to a muttering mess.

  His lips were a hair’s breadth from mine. “I think it’s time to punish you.”

  Yes, please!

  “S-Sure. Whatever you want.” Hah! I made words.

  His deep chuckle tickled as his mouth skimmed down my neck. “Oh, cher, if I did the things I wanted, you wouldn’t be getting out of this bed for a week.”

  My blood turned to hot lava speeding through my veins. If he wasn’t careful, this volcano was going to erupt soon.

  “I’ll tell you what—” he pressed a fiery kiss to my neck “—I’ll go easy on you tonight. And then your sentence will continue tomorrow and the next day and the next, until I feel you’ve learned your lesson.”

  My body shivered in anticipation. If my punishment was half as amazing as I suspected, I wasn’t ever going to learn my lesson. I’d piss him off every day.

  “Okay.” At least that was what I thought I mumbled.

  His head pulled back to mine, those eyes burning through his dark lashes. “I’m still mad at you.”

  “I know. I’m s—”

  His finger pressed against my lips, cutting me off. “No more apologizing.” He traced the bottom one. “The only things I want coming out of this mouth are pleas and moans.”

  Fire spilled through my cheeks and quickly spread out. A deep blush instantly covered my skin. The Cajun Casanova was extra spicy tonight.

  Etie’s body lowered to mine, swarming me with his delicious heat and filling my senses with that wild, intoxicating herbal scent. His finger left my mouth and trailed down my neck, swirling around my toujou.

  My pulse quivered at his touch. So did my body.

  His lips met mine, stealing control of everything inside me. I was his. He knew it. I knew it. The whole damn world probably knew it. I savored his sweet, cherry flavor, lapping up all the sugary goodness I could get. I was addicted. There were no ifs, ands or buts about it. Étienne Benoit had my heart, soul, body and even my mind.

  The covers were yanked away, putting only a thin layer of clothing between us. I wasn’t sure how long the clothing would last. My arms curled around his neck, fingers sinking into his hair.

  Etie suddenly broke the kiss and tsked. “No, no, bad girl. That’s not allowed.” He plucked my arms from around him and held them above my head. “This is your punishment, remember?”

  I pouted. “What else isn’t allowed?”

  A dark, mischievous grin pulled at that sexy mouth. “I’ll let you know when we come to it.”

  Holy voodoo hell. This bokor had me right where he wanted me.

  I fought my own smile. There was no place else I’d rather be.

  Flames licked at every inch of my skin as his hands roamed over my body, and his mouth did things to me that would keep me blushing for days. His tongue slid across mine, and I moaned. He tasted like sugary paradise. And sin.

  “Oh, Angeline, the things I’m going to do to you…”

  I shivered. He’d said something similar only a few days after we met. My hand slid over his shoulder, running across his smooth back. The scales of the magic snake tattoo came alive, and the koulèvkay stirred along his skin.

  A growl slipped from Etie. “Angeline,” he warned, his eyes turning electric. “You’re playing with fire.”

  I sighed against his lips. “I don’t mind getting a little burned.”

  He shook his head. “You’re going to get more than a little burned.” His body pressed down.

  My heart pounded in my chest, matching the frantic beat of his. I could scarcely breathe let alone think. Maybe messing with his dark voodoo koulèvkay wasn’t such a good idea.

  Scratch that. It was the best idea.

  Etie’s mouth took possession of mine, kissing me into a scorching oblivion.

  Chapter 4

  The steady thump of a heartbeat stirred me from a deep sleep. I was so warm and comfortable it took a long time for my brain to reach full consciousness. When my lids finally opened, a slow smile split my lips.

  My head rested on Etie’s bare chest as I curled into his body. His arms were fastened around me. Not that long ago, I would have been annoyed to find the Cajun Casanova in my bed—or at least pretended to be. Now, I was thrilled. It
sent tingles through my entire being. So did thinking about last night.

  A sleepy groan left him. “Angeline, you thinking about last night, no?” His husky voice dripped with sexiness.

  A blush coated my cheeks. “I thought you couldn’t read my mind.”

  “I can’t.” His hand slid along my arm, spreading goosebumps. “I can just feel your skin warm. That tells me your mind is thinking something naughty.”

  “Maybe,” I admitted. Lying was pointless.

  Deep chuckles vibrated through Etie’s chest. “You’re going to get me in trouble, cher. I was supposed to be at work twenty minutes ago.”

  I shrugged. “I’m sure Bastien will understand.”

  His fingers slipped under my shirt, making gentle swirling motions on my stomach. “He’ll have to.”

  My stomach fluttered, and electricity crackled where we touched. If he wasn’t careful, I was going to fry something. I wasn’t coherent enough to keep my powers under lock and key.

  “Just a few more minutes, no?” Etie trailed my ribs as if playing a musical instrument.

  I snuggled deeper, floating on the high he gave me. I was so effing addicted. I drifted somewhere between sleep and awake, reveling in his presence. Etie could irritate me to no end, but he could also be a soothing balm for all my ailments. I never felt more at peace than when I was sleeping with him.

  And then all hell broke loose.

  Etie’s chest disappeared, and my face bounced on the mattress. A loud thud echoed followed by a long string of curse words—Spanish curse words.

  Oh shit.

  I popped up. Etie was slammed against the wall, held by a purple-eyed Cristóbal De la Mora. “Dad!” I scrambled out of bed, my heart choking my airways. Thank God we were dressed—sort of. I was in shorts and a tank top, and Etie was in those tight boxer briefs.

  Heat bled through my cheeks. This didn’t look good. And it was embarrassing as hell!

  “You think it’s okay to be in my daughter’s bed?” My father’s voice shook the entire room. Power was definitely infused in it.

  Etie was still pressed against the wall. He could have fought my dad’s hold. Maybe he was letting him get a little satisfaction. He was in bed with his barely legal daughter.