Enchanted--Book of Spells, page 1
Enchanted - Book of Spells
Dusk to Dawn Series
W.J. May
Published by Dark Shadow Publishing, 2024.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
ENCHANTED - BOOK OF SPELLS
First edition. January 15, 2024.
Copyright © 2024 W.J. May.
Written by W.J. May.
The Prequel of Dusk to Dawn Series
By W. J. May
@Copyright 2024 By W. J. May
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Copyright 2024 by W.J. May
Enchanted – Book of Spells
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Enchanted Blurb
THE LAST THING I WANTED to do was die—well, second to last. The only thing worse than being dead was being undead.
Becoming a vampire. Five months after a tragic event, Maer Whisler is determined to escape the vampire town of Sanlow, where she is forced to battle in an arena as entertainment.
Meanwhile, Koen Blackwood, a fellow fighter, has developed a liking to her. But when a jealous vampire takes advantage of that, soon the two are sold as slaves at a black market auction.
Together—and with a few friends—they eventually manage to flee Sanlow. But as they search for a safe haven before they’re pursued by the covens, Maer and Koen experience strange happenings—pentagrams that glow blue, a pattern of triangles seeming to show up wherever they are, and weapons that they’re able to set on fire.
Will they manage to find sanctuary? Or will they find themselves a part of a secret rebellion to eradicate all vampires?
Note from Author – Enchanted is the prequel story to the Dusk to Dawn Series coming 2024.
Contents
Enchanted Blurb
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
Epilogue
COMING SOON
Chapter 1
Maer
WHERE WAS DEATH WHEN you needed her?
Wait—No! The last thing I wanted to do was die—well, second to last. The only thing worse than being dead was being undead.
Becoming a vampire.
I’d rather rot in hell than live forever in decaying suburbia, destined to drink the blood of family and friends. They say it changes you. The part of you that feels must die with you.
My thoughts ran wild as I lay on the hard-packed dirt, the stars in the midnight sky wheeling above me. I wasn’t lying down. I had been thrown down. The back of my head throbbed in pain. My whole body ached.
What was wrong with me? I was so off my game.
The pounding of my blood in my ears subsided to make way for the furious shouting and hissing, drowning out the crackling of torches bolted to the arena wall behind me.
“Get up! I put a lot of coin into you!” snarled a male voice.
Dazed from the brutal shove, I had to force my vision to settle and clear. Leaning over the railing of the mezzanine seating was my coven leader. His voice was harsh, but his eyes shone with panic. I knew he was praying no one else could see that.
My senses whittled razor-sharp. I jerked to my feet and snatched up my fallen sword, glaring up at Cirillo Kaladin with teeth bared despite my dull canines. A flicker of remorse crossed his face, the only indication that he still felt positive emotion—and then it was gone, replaced by dangerous malice.
The vampire lord bared his teeth in return. His canines were half an inch long, fanged to a sharp point, and strong enough to pierce the toughest flesh. “Don’t disappoint me,” he hissed.
I was fully warranted when I gave Cirillo a vulgar gesture. He hissed again when nearby watchers crowed with laughter.
“Maer!”
I whirled at my name, funneling my hatred for Cirillo into motivation—I had to win. Not for him, but out of raw spite—
A blade came crashing toward me with its owner bellowing. My sword raised automatically, just in time to block the blow. The shriek of metal on metal jarred my eardrums, and it took every ounce of my strength not to bend under the weight Koen pressed down, forcing me to bend at the knees, arcing my spine backward—
Koen Blackwood’s hazel eyes—human eyes, with white sclera instead of the black of a vampire’s—were lit with the thrill of adrenaline as sweat poured down his face. A few droplets dripped onto me, one of them hitting my cheek.
His body bent over mine. He stopped bearing down as we stared at each other, locked in the painful position.
I curled my lip and spat, “Gross! Don’t sweat on me, you brute! How did you push me down like that?!”
Koen’s mouth curved into a wide, breathless grin. “My mistake, princess. All’s fair here.”
Beyond fed up with men who seemed to make it their life’s goal to annoy me, I roared wordlessly and shoved Koen back with all my might. Surprised, he let up. He was almost twice my size in height and breadth, but I had proven multiple times that I wasn’t to be underestimated. I could lift as much weight as a Farmer.
I glanced around the arena. Koen and I were the last Gladiators on their feet. All the other fighters were lying unconscious or being guided to the medic, who waited under the stands, which were filled with vampires and humans alike, although it was only the immortals who were jeering and exchanging bets. Out of the four covens, we were the best entertainers—and the best money-makers.
Koen and I never failed to come out on top. And when we faced each other—only once out of the three games a week—either the betters won or they lost.
What high stakes their human playthings were against! I wanted to run my sword through every one of them.
My gaze flicked to Cirillo. He’d settled beside his only pureblooded offspring, Ciel, whose expression was as sour as if she’d drunk a dead man’s blood. It took me a moment to realize her glare was directed at me, as if she wanted nothing more than to bleed me dry.
I wrinkled my nose. What’s her problem?
“Do you still self-proclaim me as your enemy?” Koen called over the din, twirling his sword in his fingers, firelight glinting off the metal that wasn’t drenched in blood.
I shook out my wrists and wiped my palms on my pants to get a better grip on my sword hilt. I twirled mine with expert speed. Koen raised a dark blond eyebrow with a streak of blood drying through it. “Until the day I run this through your chest,” I seethed.
I didn’t mean it. Arena games weren’t for killing—no beheading or lopping off limbs, either. Gladiators followed a code of honor—and the whim of vampires who wanted entertainment, not bodies gone to waste.
But seriously injuring? That was allowed.
I didn’t win by knocking opponents out cold. I won by spilling blood.
The only problem was that so did Koen. And I couldn’t be injured beyond a few scrapes.
I glanced quickly at Cirillo. I just couldn’t.
“Maer,” Koen said, dragging me out of my thoughts. He sounded worried.
We both knew I was off my game.
“I’m fine,” I snapped—and lunged. The crowd cheered when our swords met with a grating screech.
Duck—parry—drop—strike—block—
It was more than a fight. It was a dance. Swordplay was not for the fainthearted. Not for the weak-boned, weak-blooded, or weak-willed. It wasn’t for those who secretly hoped to die in a desperate attempt to escape this living hell.
No, gladiating was for those who would do anything to live.
I was one of those survivors.
I’d be damned to lose to Koen Blackwood, much less die by his blade—by his charm.
The bonehead was grinning as if this was just another day—and it was, but he was smug about it—and meeting every one of my attacks with ease, though I knew he was working as hard as I was.
It remained to be seen if he was going to take advantage of my slowdown. He wasn’t above playing dirty.
But he was somehow still one of the kindest men I had ever known.
Koen’s blade screeched off mine. I counterattacked—and he blocked it, immediately attacking again. I blinked—
And suddenly, his sword tip was at my throat.
I froze, not daring to swallow.
The crowd-goers who were betting on my win booed while Koen’s gamblers howled with victory. But it wasn’t over yet.
The world narrowed to me and Koen. Our chests heaved for breath. My lungs felt like they were on fire. My arms and legs stung where I’d sustained superficial cuts. I was otherwise uninjured—that was how good I was—and I could see only a few scrapes on Koen’s exposed skin. He didn’t move; he just stared at me, looking at me up and down, making me suddenly feel naked. Then his brows furrowed like he was trying to solve a riddle.
Terror made me lash out. “What are you doing?” I snapped. “Disarm me!”
A vampire’s hearing was unparalleled. Cirillo roared, “No!”
I had a feeling Koen’s coven leader, Agana Kirsi, yowled, “Yes!” from the opposite side of the arena.
Without warning, Koen grabbed my armor collar and yanked my face until it was just two inches from his. “Why are you holding back?” he hissed. “What’s wrong?”
Having him so close suddenly had me flustered, which only enhanced my anger. I squirmed against his grasp, but I had hit the bottom of my energy store, and all I wanted to do was go as limp as a fish. I hated myself for it. I wasn’t just off my game—I talked too big of one.
“Nothing’s wrong! Either disarm me or let me win—No!”
I sucked in a sharp breath when Koen’s sword tip rested just below my sternum. I felt like I was going to vomit.
His eyes flashed, and he withdrew, releasing me with a shove. Fear got the best of my self-control, and I thought in panic, Did he figure it out? How?!
“Knock her out!” someone yowled at Koen.
“The fight isn’t over!” Cirillo yelled savagely. “Win, Whisler! Or your mother will suffer for your loss!”
My body stiffened. I disliked my mother, but the last fate I would give her was being a Bleeder for Cirillo. He’d drunk from her before and from my two aunts, but there was no bloody way that any of my family would become his personal food bank. Literally, no bloody way.
My teeth gritted as I swung my arm up, aiming my sword tip at Koen’s heart. He didn’t even flinch as he stared at me with the same perplexed expression. “Our tallies are uneven,” I told him, forcing my voice to be steady. “Let’s even it out tonight. Yield.”
More outcries rang out in a clear complaint—Boring! No arena game was successful unless there was a fight to the end. What fun was an agreement?
I felt Cirillo’s eyes burning a hole in my back. I felt so taut I thought my spine would snap. I watched Koen tear his gaze away to seek out Agana. In the far distance, I saw the vampire lady bare her fangs and shake her head in a no mercy! gesture.
He turned back to me, and his expression had shifted to complacency. My heart lurched in fear—and then rage. He wasn’t going to just concede and walk away. Just like I did, Koen had a family to feed.
“Cocky bastard,” I hissed, lunging.
The edge of Koen’s blade screeched down the length of mine as he retreated a few steps. He tensed for a counterattack. I knew what move he was going to make next—right as I saw an abandoned sword just a foot away.
I ducked his deadly swing; the metal wooshed over my head. I caught Koen’s look of surprise before I snatched up the other sword. I spun on my heel, deaf to the cheers from my cunning move, and swung both weapons up.
Koen whirled to block, but it was too late. He was too slow—
There was one sword on either side of his neck, crossed in a bloody X. I jerked a wrist. Koen winced as it nicked his skin and drew a bead of blood.
The crowd went nuts.
He could escape the trap. All he needed to do was either step backward or knock the blades up and duck out. But everyone knew this was my move. Anyone who tried to escape it only wound up losing two or three moves after. I knew how to catch the prisoners.
Part of me knew he was capable of being the one who got away. If there was anyone smart enough to dodge the attack, it was Koen Blackwood. But he had yet to even try.
He neither attacked nor yielded. Rage and desperation made me yell, “Fight or surrender!”
Having lost the cockiness already, Koen dared clear his throat, his gaze cross-eyed as he looked down at the swords. He was still clutching his own. “I cannot lose tonight, Maer,” he said carefully, quietly, so low I wondered if it escaped vampiric ears. “My sister—”
“I don’t give a toss about your sister,” I spat. Then I lowered my voice, making sure my back was to Cirillo. “I have more to lose.”
His eyes flashed, and he looked ready to reply, but I didn’t waste another second. I roared in effort and withdrew my swords—slicing into Koen’s neck as I tossed one and sheathed the other in one clean motion. He yelped and released his blade, falling to his knees as he clapped his hands over the wounds. They wouldn’t kill him, but they solidified one thing—I’d won.
The crowd’s reaction threatened to deafen me.
Without a glance at Cirillo, I stormed through the tunnel to the barracks within the arena. It was empty and dark, the perfect condition to let my tears streak down my cheeks as I released a sob.
I still felt Koen’s sword tip at my diaphragm. My hand went to my stomach.
There was no way Koen could have figured it out, I reasoned with myself. If I can keep the secret from my own family, there’s no way that Farmer could put the pieces together.
I passed the dirty mirror in the hallway. My face looked as bloody and battered as I felt.
“No one can know,” I whispered.
No one could ever know that I was pregnant.
Chapter 2
Koen
I KNELT ON MY KNEES and clamped my palms over the slices on both sides of my neck. My hands were already sticky with blood, so the fresh stream didn’t make any difference. I’d sustained worse injuries.
All around me, the vampires exchanged money as they hissed with loss or crowed with victory. I knew it wouldn’t be long before—
Splat!
The first piece of fruit hit me square in the back. I grunted at the force—hard enough that it would leave an impressive bruise later. More came, pelting me with mush, juice, and pain. Never underestimate the strength a vampire could put in their throw. And their aim.
It would all be healed later, but the losers had to take out their anger on this loser.
Agana was not going to be happy.
I watched Maer Whisler stomp into the Moros coven’s barracks underneath the arena. She tried to hide it, but she was limping and looked exhausted—more exhausted than I’d ever seen her. It wasn’t like her to allow even a flicker of pain to cross her expression. Once, I saw her take a knife to her thigh; her only emotion was raw rage. She was purely human, but her instincts rivaled a vampire’s. She had shown time and time again that her size wasn’t to be underestimated.
I admired her.
Her skills, I hastily added to myself. I admire her excellent swordplay, not the way her pale blue eyes blaze like fire when she’s angry or the way she grins when she gets splattered with blood—
I shook my head to clear it, just missing an apple, and hauled myself to my feet. My wounds kept bleeding, but I picked up my sword and headed toward the barracks on the opposite side of the arena under the Bloodfrost coven’s section. Keeping my head down, I ignored the jeers and curses hurled as violently as the fruit. I’d learned long ago not to be affected by any of it. It was all just in the daily routine of being a Gladiator—just part of the curse of being human, of being amusement bent to the will of blood-sucking immortals.
