Fangsters: Fangsters, #1

Chapter 1

As I stood in front of the run-down motel, I used all my witch powers to take in the scene, but I sensed no magic. In five minutes, it would be midnight. The winter wind bit into my skin and slid into the very marrow of my bones. I could smell a snowstorm brewing on the horizon. Castaway fast-food wrappers littered the parking lot, leaving a foul taste in the air. Not a soul stood in sight. I pulled my wool coat closer to my body. Who would summon me here, on this cold, dreary night?

The neon sign above the office read, Welcome - Rooms Available, but even the moon had abandoned the sky above it. I could not imagine a more unwelcoming sight. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. Fear gnawed at my senses. Something was about to happen—something dark and sinister.

The unsigned flame-text arrived an hour ago. Come to room 101 at the Welcome Motel, at midnight. Only a person who possessed supernatural powers could contact me in this way, but I had no idea who sent it. Why didn’t they sign it? Why didn’t they explain themselves? What exactly was it an invitation to? A shiver crept up my spine. What did they want from me?

I stood there alone, in the darkness, for another few minutes, listening to a family of rats scuttling around the garbage bins at the side of the building. Why did I take this message seriously? What truly called me here? It felt as if it were more than the flame-text. I shook myself. It wasn’t like me to get spooked, but this mysterious invitation creeped under my skin and lingered there.

Shouldn’t I at least call someone? I bit my bottom lip. Being so late on a weekday, most of my friends and family would be asleep. And besides, I didn’t want them to think me superstitious. A true sorceress should be able to handle this—whatever this turned out to be.

What about Dakota? Should I try phoning him again? We would be married in a month, and I trusted him to face the darkest corners of my life. Heck, he survived seeing me without makeup and coffee, so he could handle anything. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Dakota was miles away at a conference for lawyers, and he had turned off his phone. I remember him saying he really needed his sleep tonight, so that he could give a speech in the morning.

So, I was alone—facing my fears—in the dark, and if I didn’t want to freeze to death. I needed to act. Keeping my senses on high-alert I walked slowly up to room 101.

The other five rooms of the motel were completely dark. But a glimmer of a candle flickered behind the gossamer curtains of room 101. The stench of mold and urine stained walls seared my senses as I neared the door. I wanted to go home. Why couldn’t I make myself go home?

As I approached, I could hear movement inside. I took another step. I could hear squeaking bed springs, moans of pleasure, and the slap of a leather whip.

A woman with a sultry voice said, You deserve this. Slap.

What. The. Hex?

Stealing my resolve, I tapped on the door. The voices continued, unbothered by my presence.

My gut clenched. Why did someone want me here? Slap. Why was I supposed to witness this? Slap. I closed my eyes and summoned my magic so I would be ready for anything. After a quick breath, I blew the door wide open. It fell several feet inside the room.

The first thing I saw was a bare, hairy butt in the air. The second thing I saw was a leather whip flying connecting with the butt. And the third thing I saw was a woman dressed in a black lace bodice lunging for my throat.

I screamed and stepped out of her reach at the last second.

The tall, red-headed woman with fire in her dark eyes and enough makeup to sink the titanic leered at me. Get out, she hissed.

Glancing towards the bed, I noticed not a hair on the plump rump had moved. Looking closer, I saw the man’s hands tethered to shackles protruding from the wall, and one of those hands had a familiar college ring on it.

Dakota’s graduation ring! My fiancé’s ring! The bastard! His mouth was tied so all he could do was whine.

The whip cracked in the air above me, and I spun to face the woman.

Get out, the vixen commanded. You don’t belong here.

And that is when I broke. I have always been a mild-mannered librarian type, but this … this … was too much. Never, ever, had I felt so angry in my entire life. My life! The perfect life I had so carefully constructed exploded in that instant and fragments of it fell all around me like lethal confetti.

For three years, I had been engaged to Dakota. Three long years of trying to meet his expectations. I had died my hair, changed my address, and bought clothes he liked. I had stopped seeing my witch friends and become estranged from my family. I had … ugh! I had done all of these things for him. The guy with his hairy ass in the air!

I flung a lightning bolt at the woman’s arm, caught her whip and yanked it from her grasp. Then I turned and cracked it once, as hard as I could, on Dakota’s butt. Take that, I said.

You’re crazy, screamed the woman as she ran to free Dakota’s hands.

I cracked the whip above her head. You don’t know how crazy.

As Dakota loosened the bindings on his other wrist, the woman pulled a gun from the drawer in the nightstand. With shaking hands, she held it and aimed at me. He told me you were a bitch, but he didn’t mention you were a witch. The pupils in her eyes hardened.

I cackled. I couldn’t help it. I knew it would terrorize her. And now I’m one seriously angry witch. Want to come a little closer, sweetie?

No, commanded Dakota, who had managed to free his hands and remove the silk tie around his mouth. Stop this, Rebecca. You’re making a scene.

I cracked the whip in the air above his head. You want a scene. I’ll give you a scene.

The gun went off, and I felt the bullet graze my arm. The sound was deafening and for an instant I froze. Before I could summon my magic, the dominatrix dove at me. We tumbled to the ground and fought for top place. She scratched. I punched. She screamed. I grunted. She cocked the pistol for a second shot. And I bit her wrist. Her blood filled my mouth.

That’s no way for a lady to act, Rebecca, said Dakota, pulling on his pants, the ones I gave him for his last birthday. We can talk this through, Rebec⁠—

The wail of a police siren sliced through the cold night air.

The woman kneed me hard in the gut and aimed her gun at me. You’re just not good enough for him, she hissed, and then she pulled the trigger.

This happened on Christmas Eve. I know that shouldn’t matter, but having the worst experience of my whole life fall on that night, of all nights, made it worse. Did I mention Dakota and I had become engaged on Christmas Eve three years ago?

I caught the bullet in my hand, threw the woman off my body, and stood to face Dakota.

We’re done, I said.

Chapter 2

Two days later, I arrived in Mystic Keep, with two suitcases. While my stiff upper lip remained as rigid as a corpse, my insides quaked with a riotous mixture of crippling fatigue, utter disbelief, and raw anger. With my emotions threatening to drown me, I had decided to escape to this small village the Pacific Northwest, because three of my sisters lived there. They told me it was a haven for magic folk, and I needed a haven.

My sisters met me at the airport and took me under their brooms, so to speak. It was both a comforting and humbling event. I had always been considered the sensible one in the family, the one who wore sensible shoes and took vitamins every day, the one who never ever got into trouble. No one—least of all me—ever expected to see the day when I would quit my job, leave my carefully-constructed life behind, and fall apart at my sisters’ feet.

You’re not falling apart, I told myself. You’re not falling apart. You have no time to fall apart. But it sure felt that way.

Merlina, my oldest sibling, who could be a double for the sorceress in any Maleficent movie, scoffed when she greeted me. I could have told you, it would never work out with that man. He was a lawyer and a norm! I don’t know what you were thinking. She stroked my hair as if I were a poodle.

Rebel wasn’t thinking, Merlina. She was feeling, said Jane, who stood on her right. Jane was my youngest sister, a red-headed, free-spirited witch with an empathetic soul that embraced the world. Rebel loved him. Her blue eyes dripped with compassion.

Come home with me, said Cassie, my most practical sister. She was just a year older than me. Sanjay’s away on business, and we’ll have the manor to ourselves.

Everyone always said Cassie and I looked alike. We’re both tall, slender, and blond, but I’ve always thought Cassie was prettier. Dakota thought so, too. She drew me into her arms for a big hug, and the others joined in.

The warmth of their embrace strengthened me, and my eyes filled with tears. Coming to Mystic Keep had been a good idea, or so I thought at that moment. My sisters knew how badly I was hurting, and their love enveloped me.

I sniffed. I may never be rich in money, but I am abundantly rich in sisterly love, I muttered as I broke away from their embrace.

Within the hour they settled me into a guest room in Cassie’s manor, which perched precariously on a cliff over the ocean suspended by her husband’s warlock magic.

My room looked like something from a Great Gatsby movie set, with a four-poster bed, thick rug, and cozy sitting area. When I opened the large window I could see white-caps on the ocean, hear the pounding of the surf on the cliff below, and feel the brisk, salty ocean breeze. I exhaled slowly. This would be a good place to heal.

The next few days rolled into each other with routines. I spent my nights thinking about Dakota—and my days talking about him—to anyone who would listen. By the end of the week, I started to plot my revenge.

Merlina said that was a good sign and sent me a case of champagne. Jane and Cassie lectured me for hours on the witch’s moral code repeating incessantly, Thou shalt not use magic for personal gain or revenge.

I was beyond caring.

I had behaved like a good little witch all my life and look where it got me. The only man I ever committed myself to screwed me over big time. And I gave him my virginity and my heart! How sad was that?

Revenge. That is what I needed. I figured I’d start small with a few annoying spells and then go big. Really big. I’d get even with that bastard. I’d make him pay. Hex, if I were violent, I could even cut off his family jewels.

I swallowed and took a deep breath. Revenge would do me good. I just needed to stop crying, cringing, and complaining long enough to make a list and execute it. Tomorrow, I decided. Tomorrow, I would make that list, and tomorrow I would start getting back at that no-good, cheating, lying, son of a … lawyer.

Chapter 3

That night, I awoke to the sound of a man’s voice echoing through my sister’s guest room. I have an offer you can’t refuse.

In the middle of the night? I rubbed my eyes and scowled at the figure looming over my bed.

That’s … the least of your problems. Moonlight flowed through the open window, backlighting his tall body—six feet of deliciously lean, hard muscle.

As I sat up, the cool air in the room made me shiver. My heart felt as if a massive hand squeezed the living daylights out of it. The coppery smell of human blood hung in the air. All my witch senses spelled one thing—vampire!

Wasn’t my life complicated enough? I reached for my glasses sitting on the side table to get a better look at the intruder. Alessandro?

Hmm.

I scoffed. It’s late. Whatever you have to say, put it in a message. I’ll read it in the morning.

It’s too important.

I fought an eyeroll. Why did vamps always take themselves so seriously? Everything was life or death to them. Okay. Hit me. What is it?

They tell me you’re an exceptional teacher.

What? I would never call myself exceptional at anything. But I do have a PhD in Education Theory, and yeah, I know stuff.

And you’re between jobs, he said.

Not exactly. I’m here⁠—

Taking a break from your life. Yes, I get that. I heard you had some man trouble and came to your sisters for solace, but that doesn’t concern me. Any guy stupid enough to hurt you is an idiot.

He really could be a nice bloodsucker.

Alessandro paused a moment before he said, My point is that if you want to stay here, near your sisters, you need a job. His dark eyes drilled into me as if they were laser beams searching for my soul.

I suppose.

This is how we can help each other. He pointed to me and then to himself, as if I was a moron.

You want to give me a job? I blinked.

Yes.

I can’t work for you.

The night stalker smirked.

Seriously. Why would I want to work for you?

His brows met in the middle. Why not?

Let me count the ways. Becoming a vampire’s day-person does not appeal to me, no matter how much you pay. And besides that, you cause a lot of trouble in my family.

I do not, he said.

You do so. I think it’s a miracle Sanjay hasn’t challenged you to a duel.

He shrugged. I’m an honest vampire. I can’t help it if I’m in love with his wife. But you have to know that on several occasions I have saved the lives of your loved ones.

I nodded. True. And I appreciate that. You’ve always been my favorite predator. But Alessandro …

Hear me out. He grumbled, and I squirmed as the grave sound of his voice echoed inside my rib cage.

The vampire ran a hand through his mane of thick brown hair, and gazed towards the window, no doubt catching night sounds I could not hear. A dangerous bloodsucker in my bedroom! One never knew what to expect in the small town of Mystic Keep, which had become a haven for supernaturals thanks to my family. But I didn’t expect him to come calling.

Alessandro, the night stalker was the picture of masculine perfection with fangs and a smoldering sensuality. He was a drop-dead handsome guy unlike any other, and in a weird way, he was also my brother.

He turned back to face me. You are my last hope.

Oh, hex! I rubbed the spot between my eyes. I know you wouldn’t come to me if it wasn’t important.

Trust me. It is.

Okay. Tell me exactly what’s bothering you, and I promise to help you if I can.

Good. It’s settled then. A slight smile lightened his hard features.

Uh. What’s settled?

You’ll open a school.

I choked. What?

For troubled teens.

Are you out of your mind? I don’t teach teenagers.

Vampires. Only vampires. He said as if that made things better.

I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping when I opened them again, he might not be there—and all this would just be a bad dream.

You are a gifted enchantress, Rebel Black. Who better to run an academy for my young?

Your young? I felt my eyes cross.

Yes. You see, I have a problem … actually, I’ve had it for a couple hundred years now. I can’t watch a young person die, not when I can help them live.

I pursed my lips. Go on.

So, over the years … I’ve saved a few.

How many is a few? I asked.

The predator skipped a beat. I sired them and did my best to nurture their introduction into the world of the undead.

That’s kind of you. After you drank all their blood.

Becoming a vampire is not easy. He placed a cold hand on my thigh, chilling me to the bone. I need your help.

Running an academy for the fanged? He had to be kidding. It had to be a prank. Did my sisters put you up to this?

He leaned closer, and the scent of exotic blood rituals hit my system. I am deadly serious. He made another low, gravelly predator sound. Goosebumps rose all along my arms. The thing is, I know how to be a vampire. I do it well. Better than all the rest.

Uh-huh.

But I don’t know how to teach a course on civility. And some of my children are … let us say, difficult.

Listen, Alessandro. I’m a witch, not a miracle worker.

He continued as if I hadn’t said a word. Most young people I sire mature nicely and find their own way.

But some don’t. Yeah, I get that, I said.

I knew you would understand.

They act out, I added.

In many, many ways, he said. Unbelievably frightening ways.

Sounds to me like you need a jail warden, not a teacher.

Is there a difference? he asked, and he looked so earnest I wanted to laugh.

Uh, yeah.

I purchased the Zamboni estate just east of town.

The old bordello? I had heard of it.

He nodded. It’s a nice piece of land with serviceable buildings. My crew will create dormitories and classrooms. My children will have only the best. I’m thinking Italian tile and marble.

It sounds like you’ve thought this through.

I have. I’ve been thinking about this for over a century, but the right teacher never appeared. He squeezed my thigh with his enormous hand, and I felt like a turkey wishbone. Until now.

I don’t know, Alessandro.

"You will use your magic to confine them and your knowledge of pedagogy to educate them. I know in my ancient bones that you are the one."

You want me … to imprison naughty vampires?

He continued talking—again as if I hadn’t said a word. I’ll send the first three immediately.

You’re thinking a change in their environment might help them behave.

Yessss. It will. And proper instruction from you will be a bonus. Like a cherry on a sundae.

I removed his hand from my leg. Alessandro, I’m not a cherry, and I don’t know the first thing about how to be a vampire. I cannot help them.

I beg to differ.

He would. I folded my arms across my chest, trying to look more … more something.

I’ve thought about this, he said. They need a smattering of the humanities and enough knowledge of science to understand what’s going on in the world. Music education is also a must. They should learn that there is more to life than blood.

Did I hear you say …

I want my young to be rounded people of the world.

With sharp teeth.

He grinned. I always thought you were the fun sister.

I groaned. Sorry, I can’t help you. As much as the thought of turning children towards an enlightened life intrigues me, I’m not interested in your project.

Is it because they’re different? A lock of his chocolatey-rich