Angela Addams - Cursed

After spending a ton of time chasing down dead ends, Darcy was just about to close the laptop and go search for coffee when she remembered one last place to look.

Most of Darcy’s contracts came via word of mouth, referrals in a sense, but there was another place where a witch could pick up a spell contract. Hex , a forum-based site that acted as an anonymous black market for witch spells. Darcy had gotten a few jobs from the site, nasty shit usually, much nastier than her usual vengeance cursing. She hadn’t been back in a couple of years. She may have been strapped for cash, but the contracts on Hex weren’t your typical kind of curse requests. What these clients were looking for was the really hard shit—like life and death shit. Darcy hadn’t liked the taste those jobs had left in her mouth. At least with her vengeance contracts, she knew the men she was going after deserved what they were getting. And besides, it was just lust, not life or death—just wanting something you could never have. With the Hex contracts? Yeah, there were no conscience-affirming reassurances. It was a fine line of morality that she walked, but at least when she dealt vengeance on a cheating husband, she knew she was righting a wrong for someone. And besides, nobody died of unrequited lust.

She quickly logged into the site and scrolled past the contract section. Now, she was after a subforum she’d only glanced at in the past, having had no use for it before now.

Insider Info: Spell trading. She clicked on it and typed in a quick search. Lust curse reversal. Nothing. Okay, Plan B. She clicked to start a new thread and typed what she was after, giving the details of the lust curse she’d used and the bonding agent. At the end of the post, she indicated that she’d be willing to trade for like-information. It was a longshot, but really the only option left.

She checked the computer’s clock before shutting down. Ten minutes to go and then she could breathe a sigh of relief.

“Excuse me, ma’am. Can I see your ticket please?”

Darcy jolted and quickly glanced up to see a train-station employee holding out his hand. She let out an explosion of breath, her heart thumping like crazy. “My ticket? Um, yeah, sure…here.”

He took it, scanned the barcode, then handed it back to her. “Train should be here in a few moments. Do you need help with your bags?”

Darcy smiled as she reclaimed the ticket “No, thank you. I can manage.”

She felt the rumble of the coming train and her tense muscles eased a fraction more. Glancing to the left, she caught the glare of the bright headlights as the train finally came into view. Only a few more minutes.

She bent down and picked up her bags, slung one over her shoulder and grabbed the handle of the other.

The train sailed into the terminal and came to a stop with a smooth whoosh of air. She took a few steps forward and waited for the doors to open.

“That perfume isn’t going to mask your stench, witch.”

Her body went absolutely rigid, the back of her neck prickling with goose bumps as the gruff voice sent another shot of hot breath of over her flesh. “Don’t even think about running.”

“Or casting any of your nasty spells.” A rough hand grabbed her arm.

“I’ll scream…I’ll scream…” She breathed, her voice rising in her panic. They’d found her, oh god, they’d found her.

“No, you won’t be doing that, either.”

Before she could do much more than open her mouth, she felt a tight pinch on the side of her neck, and everything went black.

He wanted to see her. Needed to see her. She was in the other room, bound, gagged and totally alone, and all Raven could think about was getting in there to be with her. But Mayhem had forbidden it.

Raven’s heart hadn’t stopped thundering since she’d entered the penthouse, draped over Jay’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes, unconscious and oblivious to the danger she was in. Jay had told the front desk she was his drunken sister who had been out all night on a bender. Of course, they believed him. Staff always looked the other way for elite clients.

“When do you think she’ll wake up?” Dy asked before taking another swig from his beer bottle.

“Shouldn’t be too much longer.” Jay shrugged.

“I’m going to go in there and check on her.” Raven beelined for the door, his body so edgy his hand actually shook as he reached to grip the knob.

“Stop right there, buddy.” Jay was on him in a second, steering him away from the door. “You know you can’t go in there.”

A noise from within stopped them both—a muffled cry and a soft thud.

Raven whipped around, forcing Jay to release him as he barreled into the room. And there she was, lying on her side, having knocked the chair over in an obvious attempt to free herself. She looked up at him, her mocha eyes wide with fear and everything came flooding back.

Her name was Darcy and she was his.

With a growl, he jumped toward her, frightening her more but unable to stop himself. He eased her and the chair upright and quickly began undoing the bonds.

“What the fuck, man?” When Jay made a move toward him, Raven snarled a warning to back off and continued to untie the rope around her wrists.

Jay left the room, bellowing for Mayhem but Raven didn’t give a shit. He needed Darcy in his arms as quickly as possible. To hell with Mayhem’s orders.

She was struggling along with him, shifting her wrists as he untied the rope. “Just hold still, sweets, I’ve almost got you loose.”

She mumbled something and he suddenly remembered her gag. He abandoned her wrists for a moment while he yanked the cloth from her mouth. Freeing her delicious-looking lips. Oh fuck . Without a conscious thought, he swooped in and devoured her, sucking on her lips like they were dripping with honey, and they might as well have been because she tasted divine.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Rav?” Mayhem’s roar came seconds before Raven was roughly yanked up and away from Darcy. Mayhem’s tight embrace pinning his arms down, effectively halting more movement. “She is not what you need, man.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” Darcy cried.

“Don’t hurt you?” Mayhem’s laugh was more like a bark. He twisted Raven to the side and released him, a finger pointed in warning.

Raven took two steps back and nodded, giving his head a shake in the process. He couldn’t explain what had come over him—he just absolutely needed to taste her again. “I’m good. I’m good.”

“She has you under her spell, man. You’ve got to fight it.”

Raven nodded, lifting his hand to wipe his lips. Yes, she was a witch and she’d cursed him. Couldn’t let himself forget that. The problem was, when he was kissing her, she fucking kissed him back. Why would she kiss him back?

“What did you do to him?” Mayhem turned to look at Darcy, his voice matching the “don’t fuck with me” expression on his face.

“I-I-I c-c-c-ursed him.” Despite the quiver in her voice, she unflinchingly met Mayhem’s glare.

Mayhem nodded in Raven’s direction as if to say I told you so . “Why did you curse him?”

“Because that’s what I do.” She licked her lips as she glanced at Raven. “I was hired—”

“Hired for what?”

“Revenge. I’m a Vengeance Dealer.”

Raven frowned as he looked from Mayhem to Darcy. “Revenge? What the fuck did I do?”

“What did you do?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “A group of women you slept with and treated like dirt hired me to curse you with a vengeance spell, to get you back for leaving them lusting after you.” Her tone was haughty, like she’d somehow convinced herself she was in the right.