If She's Wicked Read online

  If She’s Wicked

  by

  Amelia Hutchins

  If She’s Wicked

  Copyright ©June 12th 2019 Amelia Hutchins

  Smashwords Edition

  Published on Smashwords by Amelia Hutchins.

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

  This book in its entirety and in portions is the sole property of Amelia Hutchins.

  If She’s Wicked Copyright ©2019 by Amelia Hutchins. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com Kindle Direct and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Authored By: Amelia Hutchins

  Cover Art Design: Tenaya Jayne

  Copy Edited by: E & F Indie Services

  Edited by: E & F Indie Services

  Published in (United States of America)

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  Dedication

  This one is for everyone who has ever wanted to throat punch someone, and somehow managed not to. For everyone who is just trying to survive and navigate in this crazy world without high-fiving someone in the face with a chair, mainly because it is illegal, but like, while you’re counting to twenty to prevent doing it, imagine that shit happening. To those who are going through a rough time, it’s not a bad life; it’s just a bad time and it too will pass. To everyone living a perfect life, how the hell do you manage that shit? To my haters, I love thy haters, and I see you, and I still wish you well even though you’re an asshole! To my team, my family, friends, and especially my anger management team that keeps my ass in check on the above haters, hey, guys! Still haven’t killed anyone, this shit must actually be working! To my tribe, my fan group, unicorns, and people. I see you, you’re my world too. To my girls, you know who you are, thanks for always being an ear, or an extra set of eyes on these books, and for loving my worlds as much as I do.

  Also by Amelia Hutchins

  The Fae Chronicles

  Fighting Destiny

  Taunting Destiny

  Escaping Destiny

  Seducing Destiny

  Unraveling Destiny

  Embracing Destiny - Coming Soon (Final Book)

  The Elite Guards

  (Part of the Fae Chronicles)

  A Demon’s Dark Embrace

  Claiming the Dragon King

  A Winter Court

  A Demon’s Plaything

  A Guardian’s Diary

  Stands Alone

  Darkest Before Dawn

  Death before Dawn

  Midnight Rising - Coming Soon (Final Book)

  Playing with Monsters series

  (Part of the Fae Chronicles)

  Playing with Monsters

  Sleeping with Monsters

  Becoming his Monster

  Last Monster Book TBA

  Wicked Knights series

  Oh, Holy Knight (Standalone alternative POV to If She’s Wicked)

  If She’s Wicked

  Upcoming Series

  A Crown of Ashes

  Coming Soon

  Reading Order

  If you’re following the series for the Fae Chronicles, Elite Guards, and Monsters, reading order is as follows:

  Fighting Destiny

  Taunting Destiny

  Escaping Destiny

  Seducing Destiny

  A Demon’s Dark Embrace

  Playing with Monsters

  Unraveling Destiny

  Sleeping with Monsters

  Claiming the Dragon King

  Oh, Holy Knight

  Becoming his Monster

  The Winter Court

  A Demon’s Plaything

  If She’s Wicked

  Embracing Destiny coming soon

  Warning

  Warning: Erie isn’t a hero; she’s the antihero in this story.

  This isn’t a love story. It’s a dark and twisted battle of wills and bare bones. They’re going to war against one another, and it will be brutal, chaotic, and beautiful. So if you’re not into dark retellings of twisted love stories, this isn’t for you. Thank you for looking, but I’m an unapologetic author of alpha-holes and the women who fight back against them. I don’t believe in instant-love. I believe in putting them through hell and making them earn it first.

  Second Warning in case the first didn’t scare you: This book is dark. It’s sexy, hot, and intensely twisted. The author is human, you are as well. Is the book perfect? It’s as perfect as I could make it. Are there mistakes? Probably, then again, even New York Times top published books have minimal mistakes because like me, they have human editors. There are words in this book that won’t be found in the standard dictionary, because they were created to set the stage for a paranormal-urban fantasy world. Words such as ‘sift’, ‘glamoured’, and ‘apparate’ are common in paranormal books and give better description to the action in the story than can be found in standard dictionaries. They are intentional and not mistakes.

  About the hero: chances are you may not fall instantly in love with him, that’s because I don’t write men you instantly love; you grow to love them. I don’t believe in instant-love. I write flawed, raw, caveman-like alpha-holes that eventually let you see their redeeming qualities. They are aggressive, alpha-holes, one step above a caveman when we meet them. You may not even like him by the time you finish this book, but I promise you will love him by the end of this series.

  About the heroine: There is a chance, that you might think she’s a bit naïve or weak, but then again who starts out as a badass? Badasses are a product of growth and I am going to put her through hell, and you get to watch her come up swinging every time I knock her on her ass. That’s just how I do things. How she reacts to the set of circumstances she is put through, may not be how you as the reader, or I as the author would react to that same situation. Everyone reacts differently to circumstances and how Erie responds to her challenges, is how I see her as a character and as a person.

  I don’t write love stories: I write fast paced, knock you on your ass, make you sit on the edge of your seat wondering what happens in the next kind of books. If you’re looking for cookie cutter romance, this isn’t for you. If you can’t handle the ride, un-buckle your seatbelt and get out of th
e roller-coaster car now. If not, you’ve been warned. If nothing outlined above bothers you, carry on and enjoy the ride!

  If She’s Wicked

  Chapter 1

  The incessant buzzing next to my head refused to stop, no matter how much I ignored it. Turning over in bed, I glared at the world’s evilest invention since the iron maiden. As I slapped at it, it still refused to stop squealing as my fingers missed the button repeatedly. The asshole who had invented this contraption had to be among the world’s most hated people. Now, the one who added the snooze button, he had more fans, of that I was sure. Rolling out of bed, I stretched as I began digging through the endless pile of dirty clothes that sat beside my bed, scattered on the floor. Someday, I’d get around to washing or burning them.

  I sniffed myself before hauling my ass towards the fridge, dressed and unimpressed with how this day was starting off already, considering it wasn’t even a Monday. I piled my unruly hair into a mess of a bun that wasn’t appealing by any means and headed towards the freezer for the coffee I had pilfered from a store being ransacked by demons last week. Of course, I’d left the demon corpses behind as payment, because I preferred to earn the things I took.

  My clock started buzzing again from the bedroom, pulling an eye roll from me that almost resulted in a strain as I groaned, flipping through the months on the calendar. A circle had been penned around today, marking it doomsday. I snorted, staring at it as I tried to stave off the fear that came with it. Swallowing hard, I grabbed the pen, bit the lid off between my teeth, and crossed it off. Sealing the pen back up, I tossed it into the trash can and frowned at the calendar again, as if I could light it afire with my mind alone.

  Marching back into my bedroom, I ripped the alarm clock from the wall and slammed it against the floor, staring at it. My eyes gazed up at the pictures of the couple who had lived here before the world had gone to utter shit. They looked happy, almost too happy. I really should have removed their pictures, but I enjoyed staring at the blatant lie that they’d lived once upon a time. I’d had to remove their corpses months ago, as I had moved in here. Oftentimes, I wondered what it would be like to have the luxury of belonging to something.

  I wasn’t wanted by anyone. I had been created to save two races, the druids and Templars, both cursed by ancient witches who had probably been warranted for what they’d done. I mean, the races I was destined to save were assholes; it was as simple as that. When they hadn’t been able to find a way around the curse, they’d banded together and created me. The only child ever created from their two races, both who had drunk from the cauldron of Dagda, and then made me. And so the story went. That was over one hundred years ago, and now they were encroaching on D-Day. According to their seers, a female druid and a male Knight had to give birth to a child of both races, without the magic of the cauldron that had been used to create me, of course. The big problem with that? There were no female druids alive or created, except yours truly.

  They actually expected me to lie back, spread my thighs, and do as I was told. As if. They had made damn sure I knew I was unwanted, that I was nothing more than the bane of their existence, but still, they expected me to save them. Irony. I was an unnatural, unwanted occurrence that had one job and one job only. The druids had beaten that into me as a child, reinforcing it anytime I forgot my place. I was evil incarnate, which might have been the only thing they hadn’t gotten wrong.

  My eyes slowly took in the mess that littered the front room. The piles of books and ancient manuscripts I’d stolen to find a way out of the curse—and to skip over the whole pregnancy issue. The rest of the place was filled with books or scripts that I’d taken from the library to indulge in, as my solitary existence had become smothering. It wasn’t that I minded being alone, but the silence of it was unnerving most days.

  I pulled open the freezer and reached in to pull out the coffee, smirking at the irate demon who stared back at me. I patted him with my free hand before bringing it back to stifle a yawn. “Morning, Fred. I trust you slept well?” Leaving the door open, I moved to the coffee maker and poured fresh water into it before piling grounds in and clicking it on to brew.

  “You will pay for this, woman,” he snapped.

  I took him in, or more to the point, what there was of him. I’d found him ripping humans apart and returned the favor. I’d removed his head, but it had continued talking, which was how his head had ended up in my freezer as it was, while his body remained elsewhere, probably searching for his head after it had healed from me setting it ablaze.

  “I thought we were past this? Remember, we agreed that there shouldn’t be any hard feelings. I mean, you were eating humans, and eating humans is bad. You had this coming, admit it. I’m sure you never expected to get caught or punished for it, but how long did you really think you could keep going like that? No hard feelings, right? We’re friends now. You should be trying to make the best of it.” I shrugged as he turned red, growling and snapping as he grew way too angry over being caught red-handed.

  “You decided that I deserved this. I didn’t really have much of a say in this since you cut my fucking head off and tossed me into your freezer! It wasn’t as if I could protest or point out how insane you are as you left my body in the trash and lit it on fire,” he grumbled, and I winced with a small smile as I pushed the cup beneath the coffee machine and brewed a single cup.

  The rich aroma filled the apartment, and I hummed with my eagerness to down it. Watching it fill to the rim as Fred continued his irate bickering and cursing me to the depths of hell, I picked it up and inhaled it into my system. Being balls-deep in an apocalypse hadn’t boded well for the cows, so cream wasn’t an option. I took a long drink of the hot brew, oblivious to the burning liquid as I turned back around, facing Fred.

  “Do you need anything while I’m out today?” I asked softly before taking another swig as my eyes moved to the clock on the wall with a glare. I was late for work again.

  “My body back?” he asked, watching me closely as I lifted my brow at his question.

  “We talked about that too, and I said no. You wouldn’t agree to stop terrorizing the humans, and well, I’m a bitch like that. That is what you like to call me, right? Also, Fred, we agreed to make the most of this situation and become friends,” I chuckled as he sputtered while I watched him over the rim of my cup as I polished off the contents. The frown that marred his blue lips was priceless and called to the evil within me. I moved to the sink, washing out the one cup I owned before turning, waving at him as I made my way to the freezer to close it so he didn’t stink up the place by thawing out in my absence. “I’ll be back later, don’t go anywhere,” I snickered as his mouth opened and closed at my choice of words.

  “You crazy bitch!”

  “I’m still not a dog, Fred. I’m also most definitely not in heat either. Also,” I called to him through the freezer door before I patted it, “we need to discuss your willingness to allow stereotypes between us. Just because I’m not your kind of normal doesn’t make me crazy. We can talk about this when I get home tonight.” One last look up at the clock on the wall, and I groaned with how tardy I was to my day job.

  It took me less than twenty minutes on foot to reach the Den of Druids, or what I liked to call Den of Thieves, as they never did anything for free. Plus, they overcharged for services they offered the people desperately in need. I hated them, everything about them except what I was, which was magically inclined, and that was only because they’d been forced to teach me. Fighting skills, I had been taught those too. They’d done a lot more than teach me though, but that was in the past. It took a lot of effort to leave it there.

  “You’re late again,” a deep male’s baritone cut through the silent entrance as I pushed open the doors and stiffened at the familiar tone.

  “Fashionably late,” I offered with a shrug as I stared down Frasier, my handler for all things messy. “Had a late night,�
�� I said with a tight-lipped smile.

  “Indeed,” he grumbled as he took me in with a look of derision. “Arthur, from the Templar Knights, has requested your presence today. He needs your help with a mission. There’s also Sir Callaghan, who sent this over for you,” he said tightly as he handed me the note that simply stated ‘Time’s up’ on the crisp, white piece of parchment that singed my fingers the moment I touched it.

  I let it drop from my grasp, staring at the white, singed flesh that the spelled message had burned into them. Great, he’d marked me, and I’d fallen right into it. He was smart, marking me so that he’d be able to hunt me down, which I should have seen coming. The asshole had no idea what he was in for though. I wouldn’t be his little booty-call druid, not now or ever.

  “Is there any other poisonous shit you want to hand me, Frasier, or was that it?” I snapped irritably as I stared him down. This asshole feared me; he may have hated me, but what I was scared the shit out of him and the others. Out of the druids I was forced to deal with, he hid it better than the rest, but I could smell it on him. He should be scared; I had a hit list, and he was high on it. He held out another crisp white letter that I eyed before accepting.

  “You knew this was coming. You were created for one thing, and one thing only. I told you many times before now that you were created to save us, and your only purpose in life is to serve the Templar Order and their needs. Did you expect it to change? Because I, for one, have been counting down the days until I was finished with you,” he said snidely. “That day is today, Erie.”

  “Yes, yes, I remember the many lessons you and the others taught me so often. I remember it all, but then I have been told the same thing over and over since I was old enough to understand it. My question for you, Frasier, is this: as you beat me, tortured me, and placed ink all over my face, did you ever consider that it may make me wish for your races to die out? Because I fail to see why I should care if either of them cease to exist anymore,” I hissed as I got up close and personal in his space, watching as he shrank back from me. Sweat beaded on his brow as he watched me, fear permeating from his pores, and I inhaled it like cotton candy at the carnival as it filled the evening air. “You smell good, Frasier.”