Wrath and Magic (Spells and Sins Book 5) Read online

  by

  Melody Raven

  Copyright

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Fonts used with permission from Microsoft.

  Copyright © 2019 by Melody Raven

  Melody Raven (3/3/2019). Wrath and Magic (Spells and Sins Book Five)

  Want to get more FREE from Melody?

  Click here to get started: MelodyRavenBooks.com/free-stuff

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Want more free from Melody?

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Free look at The Lost Vampire Prince!

  Derek Pierce stepped into the decrepit brownstone. The first thing he noticed was the stench. He held a hand over his nose before immediately removing it. Glancing around him, he checked to verify that no one had noticed the motion.

  He knew it was accepted and situations like this were too delicate for any of the guys to give him a hard time, but he still wanted to make sure he contained himself. If things went as planned, he’d be running crime scenes like this someday, and there was no way he’d get responsibility like that any time soon if he was throwing up at all the crime scenes.

  But the disturbing thing about this wasn’t a stench of death. He knew from the details he’d heard over the radio that the victim had only been dead a few hours. The stench was pure filth. Rotten food, animal feces and, from the looks of the place, he wouldn’t be surprised if there was some human excrement mixed in.

  Just as he was composing himself and getting ready to walk into the room that was currently the center of investigation, one of the uniformed officers who had started around the same time as him ran out, hand over his mouth. Derek stepped aside, and a second later, he heard his coworker start to retch. From the sounds of it, he hadn’t even cleared the crime scene.

  Derek took a deep breath through his mouth before he walked into the room where the forensic team was carefully going through every scrap and fiber.

  And in the center of all this filth and death and horror was the body. Derek had seen plenty of dead guys at this point. Seen them shot, drowned, run over, and any number of other horrible things. But this was different.

  The kid was so small. Not just because he was so young. His collarbones protruded almost obscenely, and his bruised arm was barely bigger than the bone the skin was covering.

  And if the obvious neglect wasn’t bad enough, the marks on the boy’s back told a horrible story that Derek couldn’t even begin to contemplate.

  Derek stepped back, turning out of the room and taking steps one by one until the relatively clean air of the street washed over him. He didn’t remember walking out. One second he was staring at the result of ultimate evil and the next he was outside. But even here, there was no escape. Because there, in the back of one of the cars, was the boy’s mother. The one who was supposed to take care of him. Protect him from all the horrors of the world.

  Instead, she’d been the one to do this. The worst thing he’d seen in his short time in the NYPD and it was the result of what a mother had done to her own innocent son.

  Right then, the woman turned and met his eyes. And, in the most disturbing moment of his entire life, she smiled at him.

  Derek sat up in bed and looked around the dark room, studying every corner as though the mother from hell was going to jump out at him.

  The bed shifted as Sam sat up next to him. When she put her hand on his shoulder, he couldn’t help but stiffen at the touch, a motion which she obviously noticed, because she immediately removed her fingers. “Is everything okay?” she asked hesitantly.

  He blinked a few times as consciousness fully set in. There were no monsters in the shadows. It had just been a dream. Well, not a dream. A memory. One godforsaken memory. “I’m fine.” He pushed the covers off him and stood.

  His pants were neatly folded on the nightstand next to the bed, and he started to pull them on. “I’m going to go for a walk. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  He winced at her pitying tone. Ever since the incident, Sam had been watching his every move like a worried nurse. He wasn’t mad at her. Logically, he understood. He’d been dead just one day ago. He might be more surprised than her that he was up and moving around.

  And she wasn’t just worried because of the dead part. The headaches would hit him suddenly and without warning, causing him to double over in pain and, in some instances, wish he was dead again. But right now he felt fine, and the thought of going back to unconsciousness, where death and bad memories seemed to tease him, was a whole other definition of hell.

  “I’m not going to go far,” he promised Sam. Not that he could. They were still at Abigail’s old house and out in the middle of nowhere. They had discussed going back into the city but decided against it. Claire was determined that they needed to find a way to communicate with Jackson, and if they were going to be dealing with that homicidal maniac, the farther they were from the city, the better.

  The number of innocent civilians in the city was worrisome. At least here, if they had to start burning buildings down, there would be no humans hurt in the crossfire. Right now he was the only human there. At least he had been. He didn’t really know what he was anymore.

  Sam twisted to get off the bed as Derek pulled on a shirt. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’m not going to be long.”

  “It’s a nice night,” she insisted. “I wouldn’t mind a walk.”

  “I want some time alone.”

  She pursed her lips together and he tried to tell whether he’d hurt her feelings. Damn it, that wasn’t what he wanted.

  “I don’t plan on being gone long.”

  “That doesn’t matter. The darkness basically has an entire army at its disposal and Phillip is probably still hunting down Claire, which means he could show up at our door any minute.”

  Shit. “You’re right. I don’t want you to be alone.”

  Her eyes widened, and for half a second, he thought she was about to throw something at him. “Me? I’m not worried about me. The darkness knows Claire can kill it, and if Claudia really did make you into some kind of weapon, you’re going to be next on her hit list. I’m small potatoes.”

  Derek had his doubts about that, and he knew Sam knew better too. “I’ll just be ten minutes.” He pulled his shoes on. If he couldn’t get away for ten minutes every now and then, he would go insane. More insane than he already was. “I’ll have my phone with me.” He walked around the bed and bent forward to press a kiss to Sam’s forehead. “Maybe Claire and Dante will be back before I am anyway.”

  Sam didn’t say anything. She just stared up at him as though trying to communicate all her disapproval through her eyes. But he would have to live with that disapproval for a little bit longer. He didn’t know what he could say to make himself feel better, let alone her.

  He stepped into the hallway and gently shut the door, making sure that it made almost no noise. He was only a few feet from the room wh
en he realized he wasn’t alone. Derek stopped and reached for where his gun normally was, belatedly remembering that it wasn’t there.

  “Looking for this?” asked a familiar deep voice. Bastian stepped out of the shadows and held up Derek’s shoulder holster, complete with the Glock 17.

  Derek reached out and took his weapon, studying Bastian carefully. “Have you been lurking there, waiting for me all night?”

  “Figured you’d be out sooner or later. You’re not going to need as much sleep as you used to.”

  Derek went to work putting on the holster. “What would you know about it?”

  “You and I aren’t so different anymore.”

  “You’re the mindless drone of a witch queen. I don’t feel mindless.”

  “I’m not a drone. Not any longer. Claudia is dead.”

  Derek had expected Bastian to protest the label but not quite like that. “So you admit that you were her slave.”

  Bastian stiffened. “Careful. Words have power.”

  Derek shook his head. He should’ve known that Bastian wasn’t about to answer any of his questions. “Fine. You want to be mysterious, do it away from me.” After checking to make sure his gun was still loaded, he started down the hall again. But the footsteps behind him signaled that Bastian wasn’t about to leave him alone any time soon.

  “Don’t you want to know what happened?” asked Bastian.

  “Right now? I just want to be alone. So run off and find a new master.”

  “Claudia is dead. I’ll never have another master.”

  Derek started down the stairs and refused to feel bad for the guy. Bastian knew he worked in a dangerous environment. People died sometimes. That’s just what happens.

  But at the bottom of the stairs, Derek came up short. “What about me? Am I going to be a slave to someone now?”

  Bastian tilted his head. Derek didn’t know whether the man was considering his words carefully or whether he was somehow confused by the question. “Everyone comes back different. That’s the problem. When Claudia saved me, she never realized what would happen. That I would be devoted to her in a way that neither of us could predict.”

  “So why bring me back? How am I a weapon? Why can’t you give me a straight answer?”

  Bastian clenched his jaw. “I’ve been following her orders for so long. Now that she’s gone, her compulsion over me has been slowly fading away. I’m able to do things right now that I couldn’t a few hours ago.”

  “Fine. Then tell me why Claudia saved me. Why, after telling Sam for years that it was impossible, would she take the chance on me?”

  “Bringing someone back isn’t only extremely hard. It drains energy and leaves the witch vulnerable. It was bringing you back that led to Claudia’s murder.”

  The words were passionless. Not angry or accusatory. But Derek couldn’t stop the flash of guilt. He shouldn’t feel guilty. Claudia had been a bad person and death was going to come for her eventually. But nonetheless, he knew how hard Sam had been taking it. And now he knew for certain that it was all due to him.

  “So why? Why take the risk for me?”

  Bastian narrowed his eyes. “Why are you truly out right now?”

  “Don’t answer a question with a question. I’ve had an epically bad few days and I will punch you across the room.”

  In a flash, Bastian grabbed Derek’s throat and slammed him into the wall hard enough to send powdered drywall sprinkling down around them. “If you want to hit me,” warned Bastian, “I’ll hit back.”

  Derek grunted, but it sounded more like a growl to his ears. He grabbed Bastian’s wrist, and with a quick jerk, it twisted and cracked in his hand. Bastian barely winced at the broken bone, but Derek fell back and stared at the unnatural angle the man’s hand had taken. He’d done that. Without thinking or even trying, he’d done that.

  Derek looked down at his hands. “What’s happening to me?”

  A second later, Bastian’s good hand pushed Derek back again. Derek didn’t fight this time, too worried he’d kill the man by accident.

  “This is what’s happening,” said Bastian, the palm of his hand hot against Derek’s chest. “Claudia didn’t bring you back alone. She piggybacked on magic that had taken root in your heart, your soul, a long time ago. The darkness has had a hold on you for longer than you know.”

  The image of the mother from hell smiling at him flashed in his mind. Derek clenched his eyes shut, willing the memory to leave him be. “So what?”

  “You’re a part of the darkness. It is what helped pull you back from the abyss. That is what will make you dangerous.”

  “So what? I’m some kind of monster now?” Derek thought back to the women Tommy Collins had violated and killed in order to free the darkness. The string of dead bodies the darkness had left in its wake. He didn’t want to be a part of that. What life was worth living if it was on the back of so much evil?

  “You can be upset if you want. But you now have a purpose. A reason for being, which is more than most creatures on this earth can say.” Bastian let him go and stepped away. “I don’t think you’ll be anyone’s slave,” he added.

  “Because Claudia is dead?”

  “Because everyone is different. That is the real reason Claudia tried so hard to convince everyone that resurrection is impossible. Because everyone comes back with different rules. The chance of getting an abomination is too great to let this be regular practice.”

  Abomination. One hell of a word. “So I should consider myself lucky that I’m still me?”

  Bastian narrowed his eyes. “What makes you think you didn’t come back wrong?”

  Sam started around the corner but pulled back when she saw Bastian and Derek speaking in hushed tones. She held her breath and tried to tune her ears so she could catch what they were saying, but she seemed to be too late.

  “Thanks for the gun,” said Derek before his footsteps sounded and got fainter as he disappeared down the hallway.

  Well, she supposed she should be happy that she wasn’t the only one Derek didn’t want to talk to. She let out a sigh, and a second later, Bastian turned the corner to consider her.

  “You need to get better at sneaking.”

  As always, Bastian lived to lift her spirits. “I wasn’t sneaking. I was getting a glass of water and found out there was a little party happening in the hallway. Mind telling me why I didn’t get an invite?”

  “Because it’s not my place to tell you his secrets.”

  She snorted. “It’s not your place to tell me anything.”

  Bastian frowned. “I’m trying, Samantha. Now that Claudia is...” He took a deep gulp. “Now that you are in charge, there are things you need to know.”

  “There are things I should’ve known back when my mother started trying to kill me. When my sister tried to kill me. But now that the shit has utterly hit the fan, you think that it’s a good time to talk?”

  “If you don’t want my help, I don’t need to give it.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Bastian. Say what you want to say before you retreat back into your normally unhelpful self.” She didn’t mean to be so rude to him, but the stress of the past few days was catching up to her, and the idea that she was in charge of anything was enough to send terror right through her.

  “I want you to know that I have devoted my entire life to serving Claudia. My life was tied to her, and because of that, I have been in the same state of being for decades now. I don’t know what will happen to me now, but no matter what, I’d like to officially devote myself to you.”

  Sam’s eyes widened and she took a step back. “I was expecting some bank passwords or something,” she said awkwardly. But things just got worse as Bastian went down on one knee in front of her, bowing his head in respect.

  Sam glanced around them, praying that Claire or Dante or Angela would show up suddenly and break the tension. “Get up, Bastian,” she ordered. “I’m not your leader.”

  He looked up but didn’t
rise off his knee. “You killed Claudia. You absorbed her power when you did it. That makes you the most powerful witch in existence.”

  “No, no, no, no. I think I would know that.”

  Bastian stood and pulled a knife out from the holster attached to his belt. She sucked in a breath and immediately called fire to her. The flames popped up around her hands, and the light danced across the walls and the deep ridges and planes of his face. “You are not alone, Samantha.” He drew the blade over the palm of his hand.

  “Please stop,” she said weakly.

  He squeezed his hand shut and the red drops hit the floor, each one seeming to echo through her. Was this a ritual he was doing? See, if she truly were the new Claudia, she would know something basic like that.

  “This is the first time I bleed willingly for you.” He opened his hand to show the blood smeared on his palm, but no actual wound left. “And I doubt it will be the last. I will guide you in any way I can in your new endeavor.”

  “I have Derek for that,” she said weakly. “But thanks.”

  “You believe that Derek will protect you, but be careful, Samantha. He might be the one you need protecting from.”

  Derek was halfway down the driveway when he saw the headlights approach. He unholstered his gun and stood his ground, but soon enough he saw the black Charger he recognized as Angela Parker’s car. Even so, he didn’t lower the weapon as the car pulled up next to him and the window rolled down.

  “Hey, stranger. I’m going to need to see some ID,” said Parker, his newest partner. Her tone was joking, but he could see the concern in her eyes. She, like Sam, didn’t want him wandering around so soon after he’d come back from the dead. He put on a fake smile, but it immediately felt so unnatural that he went back to his standard grimace.

  Leaning on the car, he glanced in to see Dante in the front seat and Claire in the back with a woman he didn’t recognize. “Make any progress?”

  Parker didn’t answer, but rolled her eyes to let him know that she wasn’t too optimistic.