A Little Wicked: Wicked Fortunes: Book One Read online

  A Little Wicked

  Wicked Fortunes Book One

  A J Merlin

  Copyright © 2020 by AJ Merlin. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  A Little Wicked, Wicked Fortunes (Book One) by AJ Merlin

  1. FIC009050 FICTION / Fantasy / Paranormal 2. FIC024000 FICTION / Occult & Supernatural

  3. FIC072000 FICTION / LGBT / Bisexual

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-7348846-3-0 eBook ISBN: 978-1-7348846-2-3

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  To Be Continued in…

  Thank you for Reading

  Prologue

  My eyes squinted behind square-framed glasses, seemingly looking for something new in the three cards mounted on the boring, drab wall of the living room. I wasn’t sure what I would find, or why they looked new to me today.

  They were heirlooms, though unusable ones at this point. My mother, being the oldest of her siblings, had inherited the three tarot cards of the Major Arcana. They were the only set the Levasseur family left after four generations of no summoners, or more specifically, those witches who could call forth the magical creations existing in the Major Arcana.

  Being masked with wards, I knew outsiders would only see family pictures. I, however, saw the three cards for what they really were.

  The Chariot. The Moon. The Devil.

  They were my family’s prize possession and even though none of my family could use them for the magic they’d been made for, they crowed about them all the same. Not to mention I couldn’t remember a time when they weren’t hanging dramatically above the mantle like old family photos.

  These cards of the Major Arcana were some of a few made by a powerful witch many, many centuries before. Unlike regular tarot cards, the ones she wove from the power of the earth and spirit were like empty shells just waiting for magic and will.

  There was a story about how the Levasseur family were her only true descendants and always produced summoners when they had children, but now they only served to remind my family of what we’d lost.

  “Have you touched them?” My mother’s voice was soft and curious.

  I adjusted my glasses but didn’t look at her. “Why these?” I asked instead.

  “Why these what?” Mom came to stand beside me, toweling off her hands. I wondered whether she’d been cooking or something more fun, like brewing potions.

  “Why did your mother save these three?” I reached one hand out to gesture to the cards.

  “Absolutely at random,” my aunt Helene, eyes glittering with near-constant amusement, had followed my mother into the room. Both of them had the signature blonde hair of our family that seemed to show up in all of us no matter who our fathers were.

  “That isn’t true,” my mother sighed, giving Aunt Helene a withering glare which made her younger sister grin wider. “These were our great grandmother’s favorite–“

  “Supposedly,” Helene broke in. My mother shot her another look, prompting Aunt Helene to throw her hands up in mock surrender.

  “And so Grandmother would not part with them,” my mother finished.

  “I’m selling them, when they’re mine,” I announced, and even Helene looked a little surprised.

  “Why?” my aunt asked, before my mother could.

  “For Avi and me. We could buy a mansion and not have to get jobs for a century.”

  “Two centuries,” Helene amended, then shrugged at my mother’s sigh of irritation. “What? If she wants to sell them when we’re dead and gone, that’s none of my business. But they’re in demand; don’t take less than they’re worth, George.”

  “They’re our family’s legacy,” my mom reprimanded, hands going to her hips.

  “They’re probably going to rot,” I replied in my snarky tone, reaching one hand out to the frames. There was no glass, only the frame itself kept the cards against the wall. “Better to give them to someone who can use them.“

  The moment my index finger connected with The Devil, heat seared my skin and I gasped, pulling back with a yelp.

  Confusion passed over my mother’s and aunt’s faces as they looked at each other, then back to me. I could only gape at my still tingling hand.

  “Mom!” I yelped indignantly, turning to face her and holding my hand up limply in front of her for inspection. Not that there was anything wrong, but that shit had hurt! “Why did you put a binding spell on it? And you could’ve told me! That fucking hurt…“

  “Language,” my mother snapped, pushing my hand down and rolling her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. You know there’s no binding on those.”

  “Well it didn’t just spontaneously shock me,” I grumbled, rubbing my hand against my jeans.

  My aunt watched me, her look fading from confusion to suspicion. “Touch it again,” she requested. My mother’s face mimicked the automatic thoughts of hell no that went through my mind.

  “No. Why?”

  “Oh just do it,” she flapped her hands towards the cards, either out of encouragement or demand. Whichever it was, I rolled my eyes knowing I wasn’t going to get out of touching them again.

  “Sure, Auntie Helene. Let me just shock myself again for your viewing pleasure!” I whirled and put my hand out, bracing myself for what was probably her magical idea of a joke.

  With great hesitation, my fingertips brushed against The Chariot.

  There was no shock this time, to my surprise, and I tapped the card twice before pulling away. Was it my imagination, or did something, some spark of magic, try to come with me? “Fine. Don’t believe me.” I turned to my relatives again. “But I’m telling you…“

  Power surged behind me, causing me to go silent, and I looked over my shoulder slowly, unsure of what I was going to see.

  The card was changing. As I watched, the classic art of a woman standing at a war chariot darkened, the image shifting just enough to be recognizably altered with deeper colors and more graphic lines.

  “Oh my goddess I broke it,” I whispered, knowing I was going to be in so much trouble. “Mom–I’m sorry. I really didn’t-“

  Light flared around the card, burning the vision into my mind before I could slam my eyes shut. A few moments later, the shocked cry coming from my aunt had me whirling in her direction.

  Surprise rendered me dumb when my eyes landed on the woman on my couch. She hadn’t been there moments ago, and though I didn’t speak, I was just as nonplussed as my aunt. Had I done this? I watched wings form around the pale skinned woman, her face obscured by both those and the feathered headdress that seemed to be a part of her.


  “Goddess bless,” Aunt Helene stepped closer, lips parted in amazement. “I’ll be damned. My niece. A summoner. Shit.” It was as if she didn’t know what to say.

  That was fair. I didn’t either.

  My mother looked between me and the woman on the couch as if in a daze, and didn’t speak right away.

  “I don’t believe it,” Mom announced suddenly, falling back onto the uncomfortable reading chair behind her. “My daughter. A summoner.”

  Chapter 1

  It was a bitch to have no idea where I was or where I should be going.

  Was there a better way to find Aveline than walking around in the dark? Probably. Was I wandering around the city of New Orleans like a tourist? Absolutely.

  Unfortunately, I couldn’t really stop to ask someone if they’d seen an elemental witch being dragged around by a coven of angry women.

  Or, I supposed I could, but I wasn’t sure I’d quite get the response I was hoping for.

  And I needed to find my cousin Aveline now.

  Aveline had been born unusual in our family as well, though she wasn’t a summoner like me. While once the Levasseur family could only seem to birth hedge witches after my great-great-grandmother, the last summoner of our family died, now both Aveline and I both were proof that the dry spell was over. Aveline’s elemental powers had awoken around the time I’d first summoned The Chariot into my living room eight years ago.

  But something was wrong. A frantic message from Aveline had me throwing all my shit into my silver RAV4. Luckily, most of what I needed was still packed nice and neat, since I’d just moved out of my dorm room. I’d called Mom to let her know where I was going, so she hopefully wouldn’t worry. I’d also asked her not to tell my Aunt Delphine about the message.

  Not yet, at least. She would freak out if she knew Aveline was missing, and I didn’t need that extra stress in my life right now.

  Help me. New Orleans Coven won’t let me leave. Sombre Oak.

  Hopefully, Aveline had just been drunk and messing with her magic. She’d sent me weird messages before that caused my candles to light up and notes to write themselves, but usually they were the ramblings of an intoxicated twenty-five year old, not the clear cut message I got this morning that continued to play over and over in my head.

  I’d gotten the New Orleans part and had broken as many speed laws as was feasible, which had put me in the city just after full dark. Now I was wandering around by foot, with only the vaguest idea of where I should be based on the small tug of Aveline’s magic that I could feel like a string wrapped around my ribs.

  I stopped, running my fingers through my long blonde and pink hair as I sighed in exhaustion. Me being this tired wasn’t helpful, but I couldn’t just stop looking and take a nap.

  “Excuse me,” I looked up from my staring contest with the sidewalk, surprised to see a strikingly attractive man trying to pass me on the walkway

  “Sorry.” Ingrained politeness won out over my anxiety and I stepped off of the sidewalk into the lush grass at my left. Two other men followed the first, who was only slightly taller than me and with blonde hair only a shade more golden.

  One of the men behind him, his skin dark olive and his green eyes wicked, gave me a curling grin but didn’t slow down.

  They obviously knew where they were headed by the way they strode confidently along the street.

  Unlike me.

  “Excuse me!” my common sense lost the battle with my urgency as I called out.

  The last man, who trailed the beautiful blonde and his Cheshire Cat of a companion, turned to look at me with amber-orange eyes framed with long lashes. I’d thought his skin was the same tone as his smirking friend, but now I saw that he was darker complected, with a full mouth made for smiling.

  “Can you help me?” I called, seeing that they had not stopped.

  “We’re in a bit of a hurry,” the blonde called, not even glancing in my direction. Rude.

  “Yeah. me too. I’m just–I’m looking for Sombre Oak.’”

  Now they did stop.

  “Can you just-could you just tell me what that is?” I stammered.

  The orange-eyed man sniffed the air delicately in my direction. Incredibly rude. I’d figured him for something other than human, as no human I’d ever met had eyes that looked like dull, orange flames.

  “She’s a witch,” he murmured quietly, looking at the blonde.

  “You’re new here,” the blonde turned to me finally, an easy smile on his features and his red eyes jewel-bright.

  Like a vampire’s.

  I looked away immediately, chastising myself for picking the worst group for directions. “It’s fine. I’ll find it on my own-“

  “We’re going there,” the still-grinning one in the middle spoke with an accent that I couldn’t begin to place. “You’re a witch; I know why you’re going. Sad that they’re bringing so much new blood for this.” He glanced at the blonde, who still watched me. “la nahtaj hdha.” The blonde didn’t respond, and he nudged his arm. “Cian?”

  “Enough, Akiva. Come with us,” The blonde, Cian, invited, ignoring whatever his friend had said.

  “What?” My brows knit together but they were walking again.

  “Come or don’t,” Akiva didn’t look back. The third looked back to me curiously. When I found his gaze again, black canine ears sat twitching on his head, bases concealed in his black hair, and a fluffy tail curled around his thigh.

  He was no wolf, but past that I could not tell unless I, too, wanted to partially shift.

  “Well fuck,” I said to the sidewalk, jamming my hands into the pockets of my black hoodie.

  My hoodie wasn’t very cinema-quality ‘save your cousin’ clothing, in the scope of things, but I hadn’t had much time to prepare.

  Thinking of Aveline brought me to my current conundrum. The three men, one of whom was a vampire and the other some kind of shifter, were getting further and further away. And what the hell was Akiva?

  They didn’t seem to care whether I followed or not, and I had to make a choice. Should I follow them and possibly have to fight my way out if something went wrong, or keep walking around New Orleans like an idiot?

  “You’re such an idiot, George,” I muttered to myself. Hesitantly I picked up the pace, catching up to the strangers with deliberate slowness.

  Once I was close enough to hear their hushed conversation, they slowed and let me join them, rather than allowing me to trail behind. I sort of appreciated it. The vampire was still leading the way with long, confident strides, and I didn’t need to question whether he was the leader of this small group or not.

  “The disagreement between the witches and the vampires is well known around here,” Akiva explained, lips curled into a sneer. “The coven must be desperate, to send such a new witch into a place she did not even know existed.”

  A disagreement between witches and vampires? What in the world had my cousin gotten herself into?

  “I….umm.” I stumbled over my words. “I just…support the…New Orleans Coven,” I shrugged, trying not to give them anything to harp on.

  Akiva scoffed while the shifter stayed quiet, eyes fixed on the blonde. “You witches are all the same; you are dedicated to any cause your covens beg you to help with.”

  “Enough, Akiva,” the vampire called back, voice infinitely patient and empty of any kind of irritation.

  Akiva scowled, eyes never leaving mine. As if it was my fault he was being scolded. My stomach turned and I looked away, as if to escape his scrutiny.

  “Here.” The still-unnamed man on my right spoke suddenly, pointing to a name over the wrought iron gate above us. It cut the tension, and drew Akiva’s attention away from me. “This is Sombre Oak.”

  “What?” I gaped, stopping in my tracks. Trepidation danced with the relief I felt at finding my destination so quickly. Still, I wasn’t prepared for the place to be a cemetery. How fucking cliche that I would be led to a graveyard by a technically
-dead guy. Still, I could feel the bond between my magic and Aveline’s tugging at that place between my ribs, regardless of my reluctance.

  Cian stopped before we could enter the gate, frowning. I tried to follow his gaze, squinting my eyes to see what he was glaring at.

  Three women came into view, seemingly appearing out of thin air between two mausoleums. They approached us, strides confident and air demanding. My stomach clenched and I gripped the hem of my hoodie, worrying the well worn fabric between my fingers.

  “Cian,” the oldest woman, her hair silver and her red eyes bright, grinned humorlessly at the vampire. “You came. I had thought you would not.”

  “ I came to stop your problematic disagreement,” the dark-eyed vampire snapped, showing fang. “As I told you I would.”

  The old witch stared at him, gaze inscrutable. “So you did. But why should we believe that you’d be any different than Gavin, should you convince him to step down.” She sounded unbelieving, at best. Mocking, at worst.

  The conversation was going right over my head, and before Cian could speak again, I broke in. “Sorry…who’s Gavin?”

  All six preternaturals turned to look at me in varying degrees of confusion.

  “You brought in a visiting witch without even telling her his name?” Akiva laughed scornfully. “You really are pathetic, Colette.”

  The silver haired witch looked at him sharply. “Brought her? I had thought she was with you, as she is not one of mine. Nor have I called in any witches not of my coven.”

  “Sorry, not really, but I’m not with your coven. But I’m not with the vampire here either. I came for my cousin. She’s in trouble, and I’m going to take her home.”