Blood Magic: Witch’s Bite Series Book Three

  Blood Magic

  Witch’s Bite Series Book Three

  Stephanie Foxe

  Blood Magic

  All rights reserved.

  Published by Stephanie Foxe

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

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Under no circumstances may any part of this book be photocopied for resale.

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and coincidental.

  Cover Design by Melody Simmons

  https://ebookindiecovers.com

  It’s never easy, but it’s always worth it.

  Thank you to everyone who cheered me on as I wrote this. Your support was indispensable.

  Contents

  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

  Message to the Reader

  Also by Stephanie Foxe

  About the Author

  1

  The movers are wearing crisp gray uniforms. They have the truck almost completely packed with boxes. I pull my jacket a little tighter around me, it’s chilly this evening.

  I’m going to miss this house. It was just a rental, but I had felt like it was home, even if it did have rats under the porch and no central heating or cooling. Having it taken away like this is humiliating. At least I didn’t have to pay to fix all the damage. Reilly did that when he broke my lease for me.

  I turn and watch the sun disappear in a wash of golds and oranges. It’s not quite six pm, according to the clock at least. Daylight savings time is such a joke.

  The heavy weight of exhaustion that has been bothering me all day dissipates as it sinks below the horizon. Twilight turns to darkness, but I can still see every detail of the trees that surround my house. Javier’s magic stirs inside of me with relief.

  “Ma’am?” One of the movers asks hesitantly.

  I turn around.

  “What?” My tone is a little harsh, and the guy looks nervous, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.

  “Mr. Walsh said you would need to select a week’s worth of clothes for us to pack separately. Would you mind doing that now?”

  I rub my hands over my face so I don’t snap at the mover. His heart is hammering loudly in his chest and it’s distracting, though I am relieved to find I don’t have any urge to bite him.

  “Sure, lead the way,” I say, shoving my hands in my jacket pockets.

  He walks back inside, leaving the door open behind him.

  I follow slowly. I haven’t been inside since I came here with Lydia and found the house was trashed. The graffiti on the outside of the house has already been stripped off and repainted. The smell of bleach and other cleaners burn my nose as I step inside.

  The cabinets are empty. The mess of food and glass has been cleaned out of the kitchen. The window in the living room is fixed and a shiny, new ac unit has replaced the old one. The couch and broken coffee table are gone.

  The mover stands awkwardly in my bedroom door until I follow him into the room. My clothes are all hanging on a rack. Anything that can’t be hung is set in neat piles on the bed. A suitcase is lying open on the floor to my left.

  I grab things off the rack and throw them in the suitcase. I barely see what I’m grabbing. My skin is crawling with anger and my gums ache, fangs pricking at the inside of my lips as my control begins to slip.

  I want to set it all on fire and run, but I can’t. Reilly would wipe out the clan, and he’d probably kill me too when he inevitably tracked me down. I hate him. I hate someone else having this kind of control over me. I wish I didn’t care.

  My phone buzzes. I glance at the screen, it’s Lydia again. I reject the call and shove the phone in my back pocket.

  “So, uh, is that everything you’d like?” The mover asks, his voice quaking.

  “Yeah, that’s it,” I say before turning and stomping out of the room.

  Reilly had insisted I come here this morning with no explanation, and while I had wanted to refuse just because he had insisted, I had wanted to say goodbye to this place. I’m not sure it’s helping though. It doesn’t feel like closure, it feels like I’m losing it all over again.

  When I get in the car, I’m tempted all over again to just drive off and never look back. Instead, I drive to the clanhouse. I want to see Patrick before I go. I want to know why he betrayed me.

  There is a plain, white van parked in the driveway that I don’t recognize. There isn’t any writing on the side. I park Javier’s car in the garage then walk around to the front door and knock loudly.

  A moment later the door opens and Emilio steps aside to let me in without a word. His face is paler than usual, and his mouth is locked in a frown. The house is quiet, as if no one is here tonight.

  “Good morning, Emilio,” I say out of habit.

  He doesn’t respond. I shove my hands in my pockets.

  “Where is Javier?”

  “In his room, recovering,” Emilio says, casting an accusing glance at me.

  “I wasn’t trying to hurt him,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “But you did,” Emilio says, whirling around. “You hurt him and now you have taken Leslie from us. The clan is weak because of you.”

  I step closer to him, my new fangs popping down as rage and hunger stir in my gut. I can practically smell the magic inside of Emilio. It’s less powerful than what I took from Javier, but I still want it.

  “None of this is my fault,” I growl. “If anything, Javier betrayed me.”

  Emilio growls back and curls his lips up to reveal his own fangs.

  “Javier should never have hired you.”

  “Enough,” a voice rasps from above us. I don’t think I would have been able to hear it without vampire magic coursing through me. Javier is standing by the banister, shoulders drooping, and his face gaunt like he’s been starved. “Olivia, please come upstairs.”

  I brush past Emilio, keeping my eyes on him until I’m halfway up the stairs. Javier’s knuckles are white where he grips the banister, barely able to support himself. He stares at me, something flickering in his eyes that I don’t understand.

  I offer him my arm. He slips his hand through and clings to my bicep as I help him back to his room. The lights are all off, but a fire is flickering in the fireplace in the corner. I’ve never seen it used before.

  He sits down on his bed, panting slightly f
rom the effort of walking.

  “I didn’t know it would be this bad,” I whisper. “In the past it hasn’t—I haven’t done this on purpose very often. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. You saved Patrick, again, and defended yourself. I would not have let you take my power if I was unwilling to deal with the consequences,” Javier says, attempting a cheeky grin.

  I walk over to the chair Javier normally sits in and plop down, resting my elbows on my knees. A heavy silence settles between us. I’m not sure if I want to offer more apologies, or accusations.

  "How long have you suspected that there was something different about me?" I ask.

  "Since the day I heard you healed the necker in the cafe," Javier says hoarsely. "On Lydia's advice, I reported it to the council, which has gained me the status I had been looking for. I sold the idea of hiring you to them by saying it was an experiment."

  Javier sighs and crosses one leg over the other.

  "The news spread surprisingly quickly, and someone from Reilly's clan contacted me within a couple of weeks of your hire date."

  "Good to know I had been sold out from the very beginning," I say, my voice thick with exhaustion.

  Javier smiles wanly. "There is a lot I misunderstood about your situation. I don't think that I would have done anything differently even if I had known though."

  I look up sharply. I expected at least some remorse.

  “I know you will not, and cannot, accept this right now,” Javier says in a whisper. “But there was no one else that would be able to protect you like they will. This will be for the best in the long run.”

  “For the best?” I sneer. “That’s easy for you to say when you aren’t the one being forced to serve the whims of a psychotic vampire.”

  Javier is silent. His heartbeat is still even and quiet. I hate that he isn’t as angry as I am.

  “Reilly can protect you.”

  “He’s using me,” I hiss at Javier. He has barely any magic left in him, but I still want it. My hands curl into fists and my gums ache. I could rip it all out and wipe that smug expression off his face.

  “You’re hungry,” Javier muses. The ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

  “What?”

  “You’re craving magic like I crave blood.” His eyes search my face. “I’ve sired dozens of vampires. I know the look.”

  “You don’t know anything about what I’m dealing with,” I snap. “No one does.”

  “Perhaps not,” Javier says, leaning further back into the pillows. “But Reilly could help you figure it out. Help you control it.”

  “Reilly is concerned with only one person, and that is himself.” I turn and walk toward the door. I don’t want to hear anything else from Javier.

  “Patrick left because he didn’t agree with my cooperation with Reilly. It’s part of why we argued.”

  I stop, my hand gripped tightly around the doorknob, wanting this part to be true.

  “He cares about you, Olivia. Very much.”

  Mr. Muffins pads out of Javier’s bathroom. The door handle bites into my palm and my heart clenches with guilt. I had forgotten about her. Hadn’t even considered what would happen to her now that I was leaving.

  “I’ll take care of her, I promise,” Javier says.

  I open the door and walk into the hall and slam it behind me. Of course I have to leave behind her too.

  Patrick is leaning against the wall by the door. His arms are crossed and he’s staring hard at the floor. I take a few steps past him, then pause. I don’t know what to say to Patrick either, but I do know it’s nothing like the apologies I offered Javier. I’d rather punch Patrick.

  “Reilly already knew what you could do,” Patrick says as he stares at his feet. “He said I could either help him learn more about you, or he could just go ahead and kill you.”

  “Then you should have told me,” I say, turning halfway back around to face him. “You could have warned me somehow.”

  “He was always listening, and if you had disappeared, he would have blamed me whether it was my fault or not. He would have destroyed the entire clan. I couldn’t risk them all for—,” he bites down on his cheek. “I couldn’t risk them all.”

  “I risked everything for you,” I say quietly.

  Patrick runs his fingers roughly through his hair.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, taking a step toward me.

  “Don’t apologize,” I snap. “Don’t talk to me ever again.”

  The coven had threatened me and the clan, and I had risked my greatest secret to protect Patrick. I don’t understand how easily they gave up. Reilly isn’t all-powerful. In their position, I would have found a way. I should run and let the clan deal with the consequences.

  I pause at the top of the stairs and glance back at Patrick. He is slumped down on the floor, his head in his hands. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, then go to look for Reilly.

  2

  There are two strange vampires standing on either side of the door to the parlor with their arms crossed. They are wearing matching expensive black suits with a red sigil sewn into the lapel, but other than that they are a study in opposites.

  The one on the right has sandy blond hair tied back at the nape of his neck and looks like a Viking. His broad shoulders are testing the limits of his suit jacket. The one on the left has intricate tattoos that are barely darker than his skin on his face. There is more ink visible than skin and the designs are in the negative space. It's striking.

  They're both staring at me as I approach. The one on the left sniffs the air then relaxes slightly.

  "Mr. Walsh will be done in a moment Ms. Carter," he says in a deep voice. There is a hint of an accent, but he speaks well and easily.

  I come to a stop a few feet away from them.

  "Who are you and why are you here?" I ask, crossing my arms and looking at the door behind them suspiciously.

  "We are Reilly's clanmates. He requested that we care for Leslie while he completes his duties."

  “Are you taking her somewhere?”

  Tattoo inclines his head. “Yes, but you do not need to worry about your friend. She is our clanmate now, she will not be mistreated."

  I scoff. "Sure.”

  The door cracks open and Reilly slips out, tugging the sleeve of his dark blue button-down shirt back down over his wrist. His suit jacket is slung over his other arm.

  "Olivia, I didn't expect you to be done packing so soon," Reilly says with a satisfied smile, his cheeks dimpling. “I thought you might drag your feet.”

  "Well, here I am," I say drily. "How is Leslie?"

  "She is sleeping as her body adapts to the changes. It will be successful though, I was able to turn her in time,” he says as he pulls his jacket back on.

  I scuff my boot on the ground and release a breath I didn't realize I was holding. "Good."

  Reilly nods toward each of his men. "Take Leslie home."

  The Viking claps his hand on Reilly's shoulder. “We will keep the new one safe. Good luck on your travels, brother."

  Tattoo and Viking go into the room and Reilly strides toward me.

  "We need to leave now or we won't make it to Phoenix before sunrise."

  "We're driving all the way there tonight?" I ask, falling into step beside him.

  "Yes, we need to meet up with the JHAPI agents tomorrow. They won't wait for us if we are late."

  As we reach the front door I notice Patrick hovering at the top of the stairs. I ignore him. The betrayal still stings, even if he does claim he was trying to protect me. I hadn't trusted anyone for so long. It figures that as soon as I do they all turn out to either be terrorists or liars.

  I pull the door shut behind me a little more firmly than is necessary. Reilly glances back with a raised brow.

  "You're in a great mood," He comments.

  I roll my eyes at him.

  "Of course I am, why wouldn't I be? I've always wanted to drive to Arizona with a vampire that is
blackmailing me into helping him. It was on my bucket list."

  "You have a strangely specific bucket list," Reilly says, ignoring my sarcasm.

  I shove my hands in my pockets. "Are we going or what?"

  He waves his hand toward a sleek, black sedan parked in the driveway. "After you."

  I brush past him and yank the front passenger door open. The seats are leather and it smells like a new car. I pull the door shut behind and try to find a comfortable position to sit. I don't know how long the drive to Arizona is. It has to be less than eleven hours or we'll run into the sunrise. Either way, I'm in for a long night.

  He puts the car in drive and speeds out of the driveway. I tighten my seatbelt over my lap. His driving hasn’t gotten any better.

  “You were a bit harsh toward Javier and Patrick,” Reilly comments.

  I whip my head around to face him. “Are you kidding me right now?”

  Reilly shrugs. “No, simply voicing my opinion.”

  “On a private conversation you had no right to listen to in the first place,” I say with clenched teeth.

  “I’m not very concerned with your privacy,” he says, smiling.

  “Ah, of course not,” I mutter. “And it’s not harsh to be pissed at a friend for betraying you.”

  “Javier is your employer, not your friend,” Reilly says slowly, as if I’m stupid.

  “He was both,” I say back just as slowly, mocking him. I worked for Javier, but Reilly wasn't there when Javier was begging me for help. Javier cared about me, it just turned out he cared about himself more. Patrick has no excuses at all.