Wicked Souls

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Wicked Souls

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 by Misty Evans

Editing by Valerie Hayward

Cover by Mark Fanderclai

This book is a work of fiction.
Names,
characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s
imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be
construed as real.
Any resemblance to persons, living or dead,
events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.
No portion of this book
may be used or reproduced in any manner without the express written
consent of the author, except in brief quotations embedded in
critical articles and reviews.

To Mark, who’s wicked good for me.

Acknowledgments

I’m humbled by the kindness and support of so
many readers who love this series and keep coming back for more.
As
long as you want to read about Amy, I’ll keep writing about
her.

Special thanks go to

Janusz Buda,

Colette Chmiel (
www.abuckeyegirlreads.blogspot.com
)

Katherine Huber

Nana Malone

Edie Ramer

and

Michele Lemon

for their wonderful reviews of Jingle Hells.
You guys rawk!

Chapter One:

Witchy Status

In my hometown of Eden, there are fourteen
Wiccans, one Vodun Priestess, three nondenominational witches and
me, Amy Atwood, a reformed bad witch trying to stay good.

April in Eden is typically wet and dreary
and this year was no exception.
Spring hadn’t quite sprung.
The
sky, streets and yards were various shades of drab.
People still
wore their wool coats, buttoned all the way up to the top, and
walked with their heads down, bracing against the constant biting
wind.

To me, however, the air was fresh, the days
were longer, and life was worth embracing.
Thanks to Witches
Anonymous, in thirty-two hours and fourteen minutes, I would hit
the six-months-magic-free mark, and I was pumped to nail my biggest
milestone yet.
Every time I thought about it, my heart did a happy
little skip.
A small recognition ceremony was planned for Tuesday
night’s WA meeting and I would receive my gold star.
Not a real
gold star, just a small piece of plastic that looked like a casino
betting chip.
You wouldn’t think it would mean so much to me, but
it did.
I wanted that royal blue chip like I wanted the Dove
chocolate stored in my favorite Chanel bag waiting for me in Adam’s
locker.

“Three more, Ames,” Adam said, his blue eyes
watching my arms as I bench pressed one hundred and sixty pounds up
into the air.

Suppressing my natural magic had caused a
few side effects; one of them being the supernatural energy had
found a new outlet and given me equally supernatural strength.
Lucky for me, Adam found my Incredible Hulkiness sexy.

The fire station gym, like most gyms, was
equipped with weight machines, free weights, treadmills, and a
couple of bikes.
The south side was wall-to-wall mirrors, and
across from them was a large screen TV, permanently tuned to
ESPN.

“Two,” I countered, huffing out a breath.
“Didn’t they teach you how to count in Heaven?”

He chuckled as I lowered the bar and raised
it again.
“Guess I need math lessons.
Know anyone here on Earth who
might teach me how to count properly?”

Adam is the original Adam, as in the
biblical
original Adam.
Thanks to Gabriel—yep, that Gabriel,
otherwise known as The archangel Gabriel—Adam’s back on Earth for a
redo, rewriting Genesis with me.
Not exactly what I bargained for
when I broke up with Lucifer and went looking for a nice, normal
boyfriend.
However, once Adam and I got through a couple of rocky
places with the biblical side of things, I’d found the perks to
dating him to be substantial.

“I’ll have you counting properly before the
night’s over, Mr.
Original Man, but my lessons don’t come cheap,
you know.”

Another chuckle, this one deeper and chock
full of sexiness, sent ripples skittering over my sweat-dampened
skin.
I benched the final rep hard, remembering the last time I’d
heard Adam chuckle…that morning in bed.
I’d been looking up into
Adam’s eyes then, too, but he’d been under me, not behind me, and
the look on his face said he’d died and gone to Heaven.

And since he’s actually done the Heaven gig,
that was saying something.

Along with a dose of satisfaction, lust shot
through me.
Another side effect of repressing my witchy powers.
I
was horny all the time.
And I do mean
all
the time.
So
although I was now a reformed witch who was strong enough to bench
press fifty pounds more than I weighed, I was having trouble
steering Adam clear of temptation.
At that moment,
I
was the
temptation and enjoying every moment of it.
I jumped his bones
every chance I got.

God’s own image didn’t seem to mind.
Even
though he hadn’t been looking to hook up with a black magic witch
in a recovery program, he’d found there were perks to dating me as
well.

Adam’s hands suddenly tightened over mine,
as if he, too, were remembering that morning’s wake-up call.
He
helped me guide the heavy bar back into the holder, his intense
gaze never leaving mine.
A new jolt of lust flooded my senses,
zinging straight to my stomach and then lower.
If there hadn’t been
two other firefighters in the gym working out alongside us, I would
have jumped Adam again.

Yep, right there on the weight bench.

My hormones were simply out of control.
Good
thing Adam had to work or we’d still be going at it in my
apartment.

The muscles of his arms bulged as he removed
the weights from the bar, the tattoo of an apple speared by an
arrow on his right bicep catching the overhead light.
“Well, if I
run out of money for the lessons, I’ll sell my motorcycle.”

My heart did a little
thump, thump
inside my chest.
He’d sell his motorcycle for me?
Damn.

Sitting up, I wiped my forehead with a gym
towel.
The right turn into Serious Land made me nervous.
“There
will be no sacrifice of motorcycles.
You can pay me in
chocolate.”

He kneeled in front of me, rubbing my calves
with his hands, and waggled his brows.
“I have a fresh bottle of
chocolate syrup I could bring over tonight.”

Chocolate syrup and Adam.
Double damn.
As I
leaned over to ravage him with a kiss, the fire station’s alarm
blared overhead, the sound so loud, I ducked and covered my
ears.

He gave me his sorry face, planted a quick
kiss on my forehead, and took off for the pole, the other two guys
on his heels.
An assortment of clattering, yelling, and engine
sounds erupted from the main floor below me.
As Adam’s head
disappeared down the pole, I heard the large bay doors at the front
of the station rise.
Before I could get to the window and look out,
fire truck sirens echoed in the street as the trucks pulled
out.

A few seconds later, the station was eerily
quiet.
On a sigh, I walked across the now empty gym to face the
mirror.
Checking over my shoulder to be sure I was alone, I saw
nothing but the abandoned exercise equipment.
Raising my fists, I
dipped into my Buffy crouch and went through a fight sequence,
pretending I was battling the worst bad guy in my mental arsenal:
Gabriel.

A ridiculous fantasy, of course, since he
was an archangel.
He could look at me with one eye and drop me to
the floor.
Still, I enjoyed whipping his butt in my imagination.
He’d upended my life with his plan to take over the world and
estranged me from my sister for awhile.
That made him fair game in
the punching bag department.
In my mind, anyway.
A good mental
workout, like a good physical one, gets the blood flowing.

Once I had successfully kicked Gabe into
submission, I did the Rocky dance, and congratulated myself.
But
catching a glimpse of the clock on the wall, I also did the
oh,
crap
dance.
I was due at Immaculate Conception church in
fifteen minutes for my weekly meeting with Father Leonard.

Father Antonio Leonard was my new WA
sponsor, a job he didn’t take lightly.
I was pretty sure the good
Father thought he’d be able to do more than keep me from using
magic.
He planned to rescue my soul from the Devil, who still owned
it, and turn it over to God.

My workout clothes were soaked with sweat
and I smelled like a dead goat who’d been in the sun too long.
Grabbing my towel off the bench, I considered taking the pole down
to the first floor locker room, but nixed the idea almost as
quickly.
Strong and horny did not equate to graceful.
The last
thing I needed to do was break a leg, or my neck, in an empty
firehouse.

There was no way I could make it home,
shower and get uptown to the church on time.
As I yanked my street
clothes out of Adam’s locker, I glanced at the shower bay off to
the right.

The station was empty.
I could shower in
five minutes flat and be on my way.

Ditching my smelly workout clothes, I
grabbed Adam’s bar of soap and a white towel off the stack next to
the large, open shower stall and hustled inside.
The concrete floor
was cold under my feet and the tiled walls echoed every sound,
including my footsteps, back to me.

The water heated instantly and steam rose as
I scrubbed myself clean, skipping washing my hair.

Churches, religion, and priests weren’t my
thing, but Father Leonard was an exception.
He’d helped me deal
with an unexpected visit from Samson and Delilah the previous
Christmas and we’d had many in-depth discussions about good and
evil since then.
Even after figuring out how screwed up I was in
the magic department and the kind of messy situations with angels
and demons I attracted, he was still willing to become my sponsor.
I loved him for that.
He was the closest thing I’d ever had to a
real father.
At today’s meeting, he wanted to discuss my issues
with step three of Witches Anonymous—giving my will over to a
higher power—but I wasn’t interested in discussing that subject any
further.
My will was my own and I didn’t intend to turn it over to
God or anyone else for that matter.
I did, however, want to confirm
my sponsor would be there Tuesday night to see me accept my
chip.

The six-month mark was huge and not only
because it was about me refraining from magic.
I’d begun a new life
and I wanted to earmark this moment in time.
Even with the
Christmas debacle with Sampson and Delilah, I’d kept my oath to be
a good person, never use magic again, and to stay away from
Lucifer.
Not an easy task with Archangels, Thrones, and demons
screwing with my life.
After Christmas, I’d spent months waiting
for the other shoe to fall—waiting in essence for another biblical
mess to show up on my doorstep.
The six-month mark dangled happily
in front of me like a lucky charm.
If I could make it two more days
without using magic, I could make it another year, another five
years.
Another fifty.

And that meant I could have Adam, a fairly
normal life—something I’d never had before—and live happily ever
after.

Happily Ever After.
Never one to believe in
all that Pollyanna mumbo jumbo, I still had my doubts, but it was
looking like more and more of a possibility as the hours ticked by.
Me and a semi-normal, non-magical guy doing the HEA thing…if you’d
told me six months ago this would be on my agenda, I’d have laughed
you to Hell and back.
After catching Lucifer hexing it up with my
sister, though, I was done with living the supernatural lifestyle.
He’d broken my heart—shredded it, really—and I’d left the dark side
without a backwards glance.
Staying on the side of normal, however,
was a challenge.

Water dripped from the showerhead as I
wrapped the towel around me.
A love song I’d heard in the gym was
running through my head and I was about to hum it aloud when a
noise behind me made me freeze.
In my mind, I heard the other shoe
fall.

Or foot fall as the case may be.
Footsteps,
bare, large, and angry, echoed off the tile.
The dripping water
stopped.
The steam cleared.
I heard the ripple of very large
wings.

A shiver of pure fear raced down my spine.
I
didn’t want to turn around but I really had no choice.
Slowly, I
faced the open doorway.

There in the locker room of Eden’s fire
station, in all his angel glory, stood my one true enemy, wearing a
look of absolute rage on his face.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tugged
the towel tighter around my naked body.
“Gabriel.
What brings you
here?”