Something Wicked: The Complete Series Read online

  Table of Contents

  SOMETHING WICKED

  All Rights Reserved.

  AN UNRAVELED WITCH

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  AN UNTOUCHED WITCH

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  AN UNTAMED WITCH

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  AN UNCLAIMED WITCH

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  Also by Liza Mitchell

  About the Author

  SOMETHING WICKED

  THE COMPLETE SERIES

  Liza Mitchell

  Published by Feather & Bleed Press, 2019.

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review purposes.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is intended for mature, adult audiences only. It contains extremely sexually explicit and graphic scenes and language that may be considered offensive by some readers. This book is strictly intended for those over the age of 18.

  All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older. All acts of a sexual nature are completely consensual. No one is related in this book.

  SOMETHING WICKED

  Copyright © 2019 Liza Mitchell

  Edited by Jennifer at Mistress Editing

  AN UNRAVELED WITCH

  SOMETHING WICKED

  BOOK ONE

  Liza Mitchell

  Published by Feather & Bleed Press, 2019

  CHAPTER ONE

  EILEEN

  The bouncer at the front door didn’t even look up from his book as he waved Eileen into the bar. It wouldn’t have surprised her if Max had memorized her worn-out, grey Chuck Taylors. She’d been coming to The Brew three nights a week since the day she turned twenty-one, almost a decade ago, give or take a few years. Or he had no clue who had walked by and couldn’t care less about carding someone during the offseason.

  “Hey, Max, what are you reading tonight?” Eileen asked. He was constantly plowing through fantasy epics. It seemed like every other night he had his nose in a new eight-hundred-page book.

  He flipped the book around, making a half-assed attempt to flash her the cover. “Just the next one in the series. I’m starting not to care about them, but there’s three more so...” He trailed off and looked back down, obviously uncomfortable. He was always a bit socially awkward, but Eileen thought he might feel weird talking to her about books with wizards and dragons because she was a witch, and he knew it. Everyone in town did.

  She knew creatures and witches didn’t scare him. The whole area around Wildwood and New Haven welcomed non-humans. In other parts of the country, creature-owned businesses faced boycotts and violence. But around here, the locals accepted vampires, shifters, etc., as long as they didn’t cause any problems.

  She squeezed his shoulder. “Well, sounds cool. Have a good night, Max.”

  “Yeah, Eileen.”

  She slid past him and walked into the bar. The Brew, a coffee shop slash bar, was the only place open in town during the offseason. It was cramped—in a homey way? Maybe it just felt like home because everyone in Wildwood ages fifteen to fifty-five, herself included, spent most of their evenings and weekends here. During the day, students and professionals spread out across the tables working, reading, or playing the stash of board games hidden under the coffee table. By night, townies drank dollar drafts and played pool.

  Everyone in the bar glanced up to see if someone worthwhile had walked in. She hated these moments. Why did people need to size up everyone who walked into a room? She felt confident in her looks, but it was still uncomfortable to have twenty sets of eyes staring at her. Eileen figured most people probably saw your average curvy lady with a little too much hair and eyeliner.

  She scanned the room looking for her sisters; Cara’s curly blond hair always stood out in a crowd. A large group of twenty-somethings were crowded around the lounge chairs and sofa playing a card game. Half of them sat on the floor around the coffee table. Homey, and yet very gross. They should burn their pants.

  For years Eileen kept a veil around her, a simple spell that made her inconspicuous. Somewhere along the way she stopped using her powers for frivolous shit and simply endured judgment and awkward conversations like a human. It was draining to use her powers all the time. So instead, she learned to be confident and used the veil less and less. Bri, her youngest sister, loved to put on a veil of radiance and become the center of attention. No thank you.

  Almost everyone in The Brew decided that she was most definitely not noteworthy—see, no veil needed to be invisible—and returned to their conversations and games of pool. She finally spotted Grace and Cara. But something drew her gaze past table.

  He was standing with a group of men she didn’t recognize. He had a mess of sandy blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and a neatly trimmed beard covered his face. The stark contrast between his unruly hair and groomed beard was surprisingly appealing. Still, Eileen’s skin crawled. Red flag. During the summer, tourists usually hung around the bar. But in October, The Brew had a reliable crowd of locals and new faces were a rarity. Shivers ran down her spine; the group of men looked like a biker gang or escaped convicts—hot, but dangerous.

  The Creep didn’t look away from her, like everyone else at the bar. Instead, his eyes never left hers, while the rest of his group laughed and chatted around a pool table.

  Her eyes wandered to his body—he looked like a goddamn beast. The Creep—who was the creep now?—didn’t have the muscles of a gym rat. Instead, she could tell he earned them through twelve-hour days of manual labor. His thighs strained against his tight pants that were most definitely not meant to be skinny jeans. His legs looked powerful, like they could do some serious damage if they… Fuck. She was still staring.

  Eileen shifted her weight and walked over to Grace and Cara. They stared at her with deep creases in their brows, probably wondering why she had been standing in the middle of the bar looking like a complete idiot. She sat down, wiped the condensation off of the table, and tried to shake off the uneasy feeling that had taken over her body.

  “Thanks, Mom,” Grace said playfully.

  “How was work?” Eileen asked. “Did the plumber come and fix the leak? Where’s Bri?”

  “Good. Yes. Party? Home? Somewhere.”

  Eileen, admittedly, had some seri
ous control issues. After their mom passed away, she fell into the mother-hen role. It was completely unnecessary—her sisters were all grown-ass women. But Eileen couldn’t shake the impulse to try to manage everyone and everything. Even Brianna, their social butterfly and party girl, got her shit together well enough that she didn’t need her hand held anymore.

  Cara glanced at Eileen and asked, “Did you really stay at the office this late? You only had a story about the new community college professor.”

  “Excuse me,” Eileen said, “vampire professor. It was a very demanding assignment. One of the hardest I’ve ever done. I think it might get nominated for a Peabody.”

  “Eileen, you have to actually pitch good story ideas to get assigned a good story,” Cara snapped. She had gotten Eileen the job at the newspaper and felt personally insulted when Eileen complained about work.

  “Fair. I think the community college is repaving its parking lot. Perhaps I’ll cover that? Oh, or next Tuesday is National Donut Day. I’ll head to the bakery and uncover the secret to the perfect donut.”

  Cara rolled her eyes as someone slammed into Eileen and fell onto the chair next to her. Jack. She glared at Cara and Grace—they should have warned her that he was up here tonight. Grace shrugged and giggled.

  Jack handed Eileen a latte and took a sip of his cheap, pale beer. He slipped a hand onto her thigh and slowly traced circles across her trousers with his thumb. Years ago that touch would have set her on fire. Now it seemed... nice? Comforting? Expected. When she didn’t turn to greet him, he nuzzled her neck and whispered something unintelligible into her ear.

  Jack had been her steady friend-with-benefits for far too many years. It was a small town, pickings were slim, and a girl’s got needs. In the beginning, it used to be fun slipping away and fucking in secret. She had just moved back to town, and he’d never left. But the secret quickies turned into a steady pattern of robotic Friday or Saturday night sex that everyone knew about. Now, years later, she had no desire to date Jack, and he still loved fucking just about every woman in town. Their encounters were turning into something to check off on her to-do list and, frankly, she’d rather just do it herself. Eileen had been avoiding him. She needed to figure out a way to shake him off because he clearly was still into their robotic Friday fucks.

  She turned to him and smiled. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  Jack’s eyes lit up as he grinned. They were a muddy, bland brown, but his smile was his secret weapon. It stretched across his entire face, radiating a joyful innocence. Like a puppy. A nice, sweet, oblivious puppy.

  ”What did you do last weekend?” he whispered against her earlobe, his lips barely grazing her skin. He moved his hand farther up her thigh.

  Jack’s lips made her think of The Creep, and she looked up to steal another glance. He was lining up his next shot, and she watched as he leaned back and drew an imaginary line between the cue ball and his target. The Creep—again, who was the creep now?—must have sunk a ball because he clapped a hand onto his buddy’s shoulder and they high-fived.

  His hands were massive, easily the size of a bear’s paw. She thought about Jack’s hand, still resting on her leg, and imagined that it belonged to The Creep. His hand would engulf her thigh as he leaned over and whispered into her ear. His thumb would slide farther up her leg and tease the stitching on her pants. His touch would be electric... Eileen clenched her legs together as soft heat spread through her core. She was still staring when The Creep turned around and looked directly at her. His eyes were dark, but the corner of his mouth rose into a tiny, arrogant smirk.

  Eileen’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. She snapped her head down, suddenly very interested in the microscopic bubbles resting on top of her latte. Jack was still talking to her and squeezing her thigh. But, Eileen was still in a world of her own. She slid her eyes back toward him. Fuck, he was still looking. Did he get closer?

  CHAPTER TWO

  EILEEN

  “Eileen? Eileen.”

  She’d gotten so engrossed in her own fantasy, and the following embarrassment, that she’d missed the entire conversation Grace had apparently been having with the top of her head.

  “I was just saying that the new moon is coming up, and Claudia from the Wildwood coven invited us to join them.” Grace continued without taking a breath. “Because Bri and Claudia have talked too, and we really think that all of us could benefit from practicing with the community more often.”

  Eileen’s grandmother had been very traditional and taught them the ceremony of witchcraft. Gram had ceremonial robes and chalices and bowls and all the tchotchkes that a witch should have... if it was still the dark ages. And Gram most definitely would have never dreamed of ditching her coven. Shifters have packs, witches have covens. There is safety in numbers. There is power in numbers. The sisters had been raised practicing the craft. it’s who they were—their last name was LeFay for fuck’s sake. Shifters can shift, vampires have their whole blood sucking thing, witches are vessels for magic. And magic had been in the LeFay family for hundreds of years.

  Eileen, however, was not her grandmother. The sisters left the Wildwood coven right after their mother’s death. The coven started to dip their toes into dark and shady shit and Eileen wanted nothing to do with black magic. The LeFays continued to practice but stuck to new- and full-moon rituals in the grove in their backyard. Occasionally, the coven would still invite them to feasts, but the sisters had agreed to stay away. Grace knew all of this; she knew what Eileen’s answer would be.

  “Hard pass,” Eileen answered, “and I don’t think you two should go either.”

  “Claudia told Bri that’s what you’d say, but it never hurts to ask.”

  Cara stood up abruptly and left the table mumbling under her breath. She was a special breed of uptight and hated being a witch. She’d stopped practicing years ago and never passed up an opportunity to let her sisters know that she thought they were all nuts. Mostly, she kept it playful. But sometimes, her disdain came out in full force and the sisters would have to endure an explosive rant about their lawless community, the value of being human, and the general craziness of all creatures.

  Eileen watched her walk to the bar and turned back to Grace. “I don’t think you should go, but I can’t stop you.”

  “Nope. Can’t get rid of us. Plus, you let me wear leggings. No dress code at Eileen LeFay’s Super Special Mini Coven.”

  “It’s not mine. I’m not in charge of you and Brianna.”

  Grace tipped her head forward and stared at her sister.

  “I’m not!”

  Grace didn’t move.

  “Grace.”

  “I wish I had recorded that,” Grace said at half speed without blinking. She was full of sass.

  Cara returned to the table with another round of drinks and passed out glasses to Grace and Jack. She sighed, “I really wish that table would open up.” She nodded toward the pool table in the back of The Brew.

  Eileen glanced over at the men huddled around the table. The Creep had his back to her and her gaze traveled across his broad shoulders down to his ass. She shook her head and dragged her attention back to her sister. “Go put a quarter on one. We might not win the table, but at least you could play a game?”

  “I don’t want to do that. It looks like we’d get our asses kicked. Plus, I don’t feel like making small talk and I don’t feel like getting hit on.”

  “Do you know them?” Eileen asked.

  “No, but I’ve seen them here a few times. Could they be in town to hunt?”

  “Maybe,” Eileen answered, “although I can’t imagine any of them could be stealthy enough to actually kill anything.”

  The whole group looked like The Creep—six feet tall, barrel chested, massive arms. There’s no way men the size of tanks could be inconspicuous enough to hunt.

  Jack jumped in, “They’ve been here almost every night for the past two weeks and they just hog that table, rotating games between themselve
s. I bet you they’re random late-season tourists who think they’re hot shit.”

  Oh, jealous much Jack? Could this new meat be encroaching on your pussy hunting grounds? Eileen giggled at the thought of Jack trying to compete with any of those men. Scary or not, they checked a lot of boxes Jack did not. He had boyish good looks, a solid personality, and a decent dick. But she was looking for something new. Something exciting.

  Grace stood up and stretched. “I’m going to head out. I’ll see you two at the house.”

  “I’ll walk you home,” Eileen volunteered.

  “Don’t be silly. You just got here, it’s still early and I know you want to get a game of pool in with Cara.”

  “You’ve been drinking, and it’s not early. With all the craziness these past two weeks, I’m not letting you walk home alone.”

  “Why doesn’t Cara walk home with her?” Jack asked, not so subtly hinting that Eileen should go home with him.

  “Because Cara isn’t going home yet,” Eileen said.

  “Yeah, I’m just getting started; I’m meeting friends up here later,” Cara said.

  Grace rolled her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous and controlling. This is Wildwood, it’s fine. I’ve walked home alone thousands of times.”

  “Tell that to Jess who spent the night in the hospital after being mugged last Tuesday,” Eileen spat back.

  Grace looked exasperated. “Mugged? Really? I bet you it was a psycho ex-boyfriend, and she’s just too scared of him to talk about it.”

  “And the other two girls who were beaten and robbed? They have homicidal exes too?” Eileen stood and grabbed her bag. She was walking Grace home and it was not up for discussion.

  “Eileen!” Grace slammed her palm onto the table. “You have to chill out and let go sometimes. I’ll be fine.”

  She would most certainly not chill out. Over the past two weeks, someone had attacked three people. Well, three attacks, five people. That wouldn’t be news in a big city, or pretty much anywhere else, but this was Wildwood. There hadn’t been a violent attack in the town in thirty years. All non-violent crimes were usually just bored teenagers doing stupid, destructive shit. The sheriff had absolutely no idea where to start. All of the victims were jumped from behind. They knew that more than one person was involved, but none of the victims had seen their attacker’s faces. The muggers beat the ever-loving hell out of their prey and made away with only cell phones and wallets. It just made no sense.