Authors: Kim Schubert
Tags: #vampires, #witches, #fae, #succubus, #shape shifters, #cursing, #romance sex, #heroine action, #mage and magic, #guardian of the children
A Witch's Fury
A Witch’s Fury
Kim Schubert
Dedication
To my husband who whose tireless support
makes these books possible. To my son, who makes every day an
adventure.
To my betas who took time from their busy
lives to help polish the story.
Facebook: thekimschubert
Website: www.kimschubert.com
Copyright © Kim Schubert 2015
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Other books by Kim Schubert:
Dead Shifter Walking, The Succubus
Executioner Book 1
Demigod Down, The Succubus Executioner Book
2
Table Of Contents
Chapter 1
Blake
held me lovingly in his arms as we stood on his driveway, about to
leave for Kass and Darren’s wedding. I hungrily clenched fistfuls
of his white dress shirt as he pressed his soft lips firmly against
my own, seducing my mouth, one tongue stroke at a time.
I could think of a better place for those
strokes.
Groaning, I pressed myself against his
well-built form, enjoying his hands kneading the flesh under my
t-shirt. His lips curled into a smile that I could feel against my
ravished mouth. Untangling my hold, he threaded his fingers through
my own before bringing my hands to my sides. Biting on my bottom
lip, I scooted forward, pressing my breasts against the fabric I
was just trying to wrinkle.
Releasing my hands, he stroked my face with
those talented fingers—which I could also find a better place for.
Gazing into his blue eyes, dazzling in the afternoon light, I
whispered huskily, “I think we should go back inside.” A magnetic
force drew my eyes back to his perfect lips.
His smile grew as his roaming hands moved to
comb back my newly dyed dark brown locks with midnight purple
highlights. “I like this look on you.”
“I can tell.” I pulled him in for another
kiss.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he scolded. He gently
shoved me toward the passenger door with a sharp slap on the ass.
“We can
not
be late for the wedding.”
Relenting, I sighed and slid into the heated
leather seat.
Today was the day when I had to hold my
tongue, not kill anyone, and try, at least, not to insult
anyone.
I scowled. “Being on my best behavior is so
not fun.”
Weeks after wrapping up the insanity of the
sadistic demigod Nari and helping Kass get acquainted with the
packs and their lifestyle, we had finally arrived at the wedding
day. I was excited to be her maid of honor, proud to stand beside
her on this most sacred occasion, even if I had to play nice.
My heart still broke for her that the rest of
her wedding party had abandoned her when a few select shifters took
issue with a shifter marrying a succubus. We certainly were not the
mainstream Supernaturals who announced their existence to the
public, but I had created a small dominion by controlling the
Supernatural Council. Apparently, a few still thought of us as
“demon whores.” The truth was that our power lay in our ability to
influence emotions; although we couldn’t force a feeling into a
being, we could easily manipulate and coerce.
I’d like to think I’ve always used my powers
for good, but I’m not that delusional.
…
“Does the caterer have the hors d’oeuvres out
in the cantina area?” Kass hollered from the large bathroom of her
bridal suite, as she changed into her undergarments.
“Yes, I checked myself,” I yelled back,
slipping into my own dress in the empty main room.
“Hannah is in her dress?”
“Yep, she is out there with Grandma Jane and
Grandpa Lee being doted on.” I slid the side zipper up carefully,
smoothing out the soft fabric against the curves of my body.
“Does Jane have her corsage?”
My hands abruptly stopped as I considered the
question. “I think so.”
“Logan and Darren have their boutonnieres?”
The bathroom door opened a crack.
“Yes, I pinned them on myself.”
“Zip me up?” She asked kicking out the hem of
her dress as she held the top up.
“Absolutely, beautiful.” I grinned at her
foolishly, excited for such a girlie event.
“I hope it still fits,” Kass worried,
smoothing the dress around her growing baby bump.
“There,” I finished. “It fits perfectly.”
Kass exhaled a relieved sound before turning her critical eye to
her hair and makeup.
Standing behind her, I rested my chin on her
shoulder, meeting her gaze of equal parts worry and excitement in
the mirror. “You look amazing, Kass.” As happy as I was for her, I
was also secretly jealous.
Kass continued her critical perusal before
looking back at me and drawing a deep breath.
“Thank you, Olivia.” She blinked back the
moisture in her eyes as I squeezed her arm. We left volumes unsaid
between us, but our bond as succubi, even with our shields pressed
solidly into place, allowed us to feel just a pinch of each other’s
emotions.
That was enough for us.
Some people will claim that connection makes
our kind demons. Since I’ve never put any stock in religious jargon
and have yet to suck anyone’s soul, I’m going to call that
particular myth false.
The door to the bridal room slammed open.
Lorraine, Logan’s fiancée who absolutely adored calling me a demon,
sauntered in reeking of alcohol. She was dangerously close to
spilling her drink down the front of her dress and everything else
in the vicinity.
I didn’t need this.
I marched over and closed the door behind her
with enough force to rattle the pane of glass.
“What could you possibly fucking want?” I
growled, crossing my arms over my chest.
Lorraine crashed herself in one of the L
shaped couches, spilling her drink on her black dress. The fabric
fit snugly against her perfectly shaped body. I felt Kass’s
self-confidence dip slightly and scowled at Lorraine as I repeated
my question, punctuating each word with venom, “What. Do. You.
Want
?!”
She shrugged, unconcerned that the
Executioner was currently thinking of various ways to hide her
body. Running a hand through her long, straight, raven locks, she
confessed, “The boys kicked me out.”
“I wonder why,” I muttered sarcastically. I
turned back to Kass, forcing a smile and locking down my emotions,
hoping I did so deeply enough that she wouldn’t feel them.
“I feel sick,” Kass complained, holding her
stomach.
“Ginger ale?” I asked.
She nodded and sank down gracefully on the
long, flowered sofa under the picture window.
With a glare at Lorraine, I grabbed my bag
and stomped off to the bar in my ballerina flats. I would have
preferred my steel-toed boots, but I had to agree with Kass and
Jerry that they did clash.
A few guests had already made an appearance,
lingering around the exquisite fountain and rustic benches. The
entire venue was beautiful: lush trees, flowering bushes, and
delicate lighting gave this city locale the feel of a secluded
secret garden.
Making my way to the cantina, I smiled at the
waitress. “We haven’t opened yet,” she informed me as she quickly
stocked beer.
“I know. I was hoping I could get a ginger
ale for the bride. Her stomach is upset,” I said, plastering on a
bubbly smile.
“Oh, yeah, I think I have some in the back,”
she said, pulling out a can. “It’s a little warm still.”
“It’s perfect, thank you,” I told her
sincerely.
Before heading back to Kass, I detoured to
the Groom’s room, knocking gently on the door before pulling it
open.
“Everyone decent?” I called out.
Logan moved into my line of view, his caramel
locks cut and styled. “Everything okay?” he asked, pulling on the
cuff of his black suit. Oh goodness, did he look suave. It took me
a moment to answer as my eyes roved over his powerful thighs, shown
off by the tailored black pants, along with those damn alluring raw
sienna eyes.
His eyes met mine briefly before they skirted
over my dress, taking a long few moments to drag back to my own
eyes, sea green.
“Yeah,” I said, shaking my head clear. I
recovered quickly, pulling out a long, slender, plum package from
my bag, walking toward him with the gift extended.
“What is it?” Logan asked warily, turning the
package over in his hands.
“A gift,” I informed him. Feeling a bit
insecure, I crossed my arms over my beautiful dress and retreated
to stand in the doorway. I had lost my nerve when I was here
earlier, pinning the boutonnieres on.
He arched an eyebrow as he pulled open the
package. Holding up the dagger and sheath, he gave me a quizzical
look.
“I don’t need weapons, I grow talons and
fangs. Remember?” he asked. “Did the tango with the demigod damage
your memory, or have you perhaps gotten soft hanging around town
for the past few weeks?”
I huffed, “It’s not for you, dense shifter.
It’s in case we run into trouble here and I need it. I can’t hide
it in this dress,” I informed him, uncrossing my arms and gesturing
at myself so he could see the sheer fabric. “Not to mention that
throwing knives will only do so much.” I slid the slit of my dress
over, revealing my upper thigh encased by the delicate leather
strap holding my four throwing knives.
“Oh.” Logan said softly, his eyes running
over my body. Before my imagination could dwell on the heat in that
look, I turned.
“Well I gotta go, be sure that Lorraine
doesn’t harass Kass in my absence.” I fled the room, letting the
door slam shut behind me.
I crossed the short distance between the two
rooms and handed Kass the ginger ale. She sipped the lukewarm drink
while I sat on the arm of the couch, stroking her back.
After a few more sips, she rallied. “Okay,
let’s get my veil on so we can get the pre-wedding pictures
taken.”
I nodded. Crossing the room and pulling open
the pristine white box resting on the round table, I gently pulled
out the intricate lace veil.
Turning with care, I was watchful that I
didn’t drag the beautiful material on the floor. I stopped truly
dumbfounded when Lorraine hauled herself up off of the couch, her
wine glass sloshing wildly again. Shaking my head in annoyance, I
cemented my forced smile into place before meeting Kass’s gaze as
she stood in front of the floor length mirror.
Carefully, I tucked the comb into her
beautiful dark curls, fluffing the veil around her shoulders and
midway down her back
“Perfect.” I stepped back, smiling as I
pulled the veil over her shoulders.
“Can you grab me the small mirror?” Kass
asked, pointing at the round table. I made my way to the table,
curling my lip in disgust. Lorraine had found a new place to spill
her wine: the flowered couch arm, which she leaned on unsteadily,
her eyes half closed.
A knock sounded and the photographer peeked
her perky head in. “All ready when you ladies are!”
I nodded, turning to bring Kass the
mirror.
Lorraine launched herself off the couch and
cut off my path, stumbling as she reached over and adjusted Kass’s
veil. I swallowed my growl of annoyance.
“Lorraine, can you sit down?” Kass batted at
her hands and edged away. “I don’t want wine on my dress.”
Ha! Take that, Lorraine!
Lorraine yanked back her hand and slapped
Kass across the face with her obnoxiously large engagement ring.
Blood pooled from the corner of Kass’s split lip. The realization
that Lorraine had scored first blood came slowly. I was stilled by
sheer, stupid shock.
“No,” I gasped, horrified.
The blood of our kind holds immense power.
When vampires feed off of us it is an intoxicating, nutritious high
for them. However, the results of drawing our blood can also be
disastrous. In a moment of passion, it enhances the throes of
desire; in hatred and anger, nothing good can come of it.
