Wicked Curse (The Royals: Warlock Court Book 4) Read online

  Wicked Curse

  The Royals: Warlock Court Book 4

  Megan Montero

  For Grandma aka Gigi,

  You are one of the most amazing people in the world. Don’t worry I got the pies.

  Xoxo-Megan

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  About the Author

  Also by Megan Montero

  Chapter 1

  Maze

  The world slowed around me, and my mind flashed between the present and future. One second my vision was clear, and the next I saw things that no one should see. Flashes of blood and death… so much death. Six deaths would come, and I saw each one like the shot of a gun. Boom, boom, boom, they all dropped, one after another. I sucked in a sharp breath, shaking it away, needing to come back to the present. Chaos rained down on us all. Warlocks in long black cloaks swarmed the stage where I stood with Astrid and Penndolyn. Beckett launched himself off the stage and faced off against his father and Damiel.

  My cards swirled around me in a funnel of madness. Green smoke filled my peripheral vision, and I relished the power coursing through my veins. I chose my cards, hitting one after the other. The Chariot came to the forefront, its words breathed through my mind.

  I am The Chariot, driven to victory...

  Then, next, The Emperor. Big dogs now! I barely skimmed the surface of the card when I heard the call.

  I am The Emperor, I command, you obey.

  I let the card smack me in the chest, and my power surged. Green smoke spilled over the ground toward the wall of attacking warlocks before me, and I let it. I filled their minds with visions of their futures. I couldn’t make them see everything, but I could poison their minds with the worst their lives had to offer. The council sent them to attack us and I would make them all regret it. Two of them dropped to the ground, screaming and clutching the sides of their heads.

  “Welcome to my world,” I growled, as the third one turned and ran away, screaming. I only showed them a glimpse…

  My head snapped up just as Damiel threw out his fist and drove a staggering punch into Beckett’s chest. My breath caught in my throat as his feet hurdled up off the ground and he was airborne, soaring backwards toward where I stood on the stage. I sprinted to my right, ready to take the impact of his body. Golden magic flared out behind him like a cushion, and he floated down toward the stage. Then it disappeared, and he dropped to the hard wood. What the hell?

  Beside me, Astrid fell to her knees and dropped her hands down in front of her like she was barely holding on to dear life. She sucked in a pained breath. “Bec—”

  Her words died on her lips as she reached out toward Beckett with the last of her strength. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she collapsed. I took a step to grab her up, but Beckett was already scrambling toward her. Instead, I rose up behind them, ready to guard them with my life. My magic answered my call. Magic flared around Penndolyn as she moved to my side. The two of us stood like statues, guarding them.

  “Shit.” Beckett pulled her into his lap. “Astrid?”

  Nothing. She was limp. Her breaths were slow and even, but when Beckett pressed his fingers to her neck, his eyes widened, and he swayed.

  “Beck, you good?” I wanted to place my hand on his back to hold him up, but I couldn’t. He didn’t answer me. All he could do was stare at the imposter before us. For all that had happened, I hadn’t seen him in any of my visions. Didn’t know who or what he was, and it pissed me off.

  Fake-Damiel threw back his head, laughing. He hauled back his arm and let the sword fly right at Beckett. I moved to jump in front of him, but Penndolyn shoved me back a step. Her power rose up around her like a swarm of bees. Her eyes glowed, and her blonde hair blew back from her face. Her magic poured from her, sending green sparks everywhere, “You will not harm them this day.”

  A blast of magic surged from her, and the world quaked, sending a shockwave out from the stage. The ground curled and rolled out from her in waves. I held my arms out, fighting to keep my balance. Then the world around us began to turn to dust under the weight of her power. Those particles rose up in slow motion, as if her power had taken up all the space. Every rock, blade of grass, and finally, Fake-Damiel’s sword, all dissolved to nothing.

  “Stop this!” Her voice boomed, and all the cloaked warlocks dropped to their knees, bowing down to her. What in the actual hell? I’d never seen this combination of power—not from anyone.

  Fake-Damiel lifted his chin. “Your magic doesn’t work on me, little warlock. You know not what you mess with.”

  Penndolyn smiled. “Neither do you.” Her eyes flashed milky white like mine did. Something isn’t right here. The hair on my arms stood at attention. The air sizzled and whirled around him. A shimmering forcefield wrapped around his body holding him in place. He growled at her as he tried to fight her hold. Then she turned to me. “Tie him up!”

  I didn’t hesitate. I let my magic pour out. I hit my Hanged Man card, and ribbons lashed out and wrapped around Corvin Dustwick as he tried to slither away and hide. He fell to the ground, and I used my power to yank him back toward us. For years, I’d wanted nothing more than to tie up that bastard. I dragged him across the ground while he kicked and screamed. Pleasure shot through my body, and I wanted to make it last, make it hurt. His body bumped up and down as I dragged him over every rock I could see.

  Beckett narrowed his eyes at Fake-Damiel. “Your army is down; your allies are down; you’ve lost this. Reveal yourself, now.”

  Fake-Damiel’s lips curled up at the corners and he chuckled. He held his hand out to his side, and red sparks flared from his fingers, making a circle of some sort and revealing a world I’d only seen in my nightmares. I didn’t know if any of it was real. It was too horrible to even believe that it was. I knew the feel of the extreme heat during the day and the bitter cold at night. This wasn’t what I’d expected. This place, the place I thought unreal, was very real. It was dark and harsh, with black rocks everywhere. The gray sky extended endlessly only to touch the bare horizon. There was no life, no sun. Black vines with blue glowing veins ran over the ground. Tall dark cavernous walls surrounded a hunched figure on the floor trapping him in.

  LOGAN! One of my best friends, my family, sat bound in chains. His long hair fell around his face in a mess. This wasn’t the Logan I knew—the clean-cut one I grew up with. Mud caked his face and clothing. I took a step toward him, and Penndolyn’s arm flew across my chest, stopping me. She dropped her arm just as quickly, but I held fast. Had she seen something I hadn’t? Felt something I couldn’t face?

 
The moment the door opened, Logan scrambled to his knees with wide eyes, reaching out with bloody fingers. The chains around his wrists stopped him from reaching out fully. “Beckett!”

  “Logan?” Beckett swayed and narrowed his eyes like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. I couldn’t believe it.

  It was him but not. This Logan looked like he had been trapped for months. It was evident in the filth that covered him, the tears in his clothing, and his gaunt appearance.

  Fake-Damiel laughed even harder. “But I’ve only just begun.”

  Those red sparks covered him once more, and his whole body transformed into the Logan I knew as my friend. My mind tried to reconcile this with the Logan who was trapped. It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be happening. When that evil clone thing looked at the stage, I saw death in his eyes and evil in his smile. This creature, this thing had taken our Logan and was impersonating him the whole freaking time. No Logan. I wanted at him now. My family, my brother was trapped. I had to get to him.

  Beckett slumped over and swayed on his knees blinking so hard like he was fighting waves of dizziness. What the hell was happening? Astrid was down and slowly taking Beckett with her. Fight it! We needed their power to fight this thing, to help Logan. I couldn’t leave them so vulnerable, not now. Yet I stood there caught between needing to protect Beckett and Astrid or take the chance and go for Logan. Come on Astrid we need you now! We needed them both.

  The old tailored Logan summoned a sharp knife to his hand and stepped through the door as he hovered over prisoner Logan, the real Logan. He held the knife at his side, poised to strike. Red sparks covered his body from head to toe. Then, fake Logan faded away and turned into someone else. Something else.

  The man clutched the dagger even tighter. His skin was a sickly pale gray, with dark shadows hanging under his sharp cheek bones and around his intense crimson eyes. Pointed ears pierced up through his dark hair. His lips matched the circles around his eyes. Thick black cracks forked out over his skin, covering it in a lightning-shaped pattern. Multiple horns jutted back from his head like the roots of a tree. They mingled with his shoulder-length black hair. A sleeveless black cloak fell from his shoulders to his knees. Tall heavy boots covered his legs from the knees down.

  Dust kicked up as the real Logan scrambled away from him. His chains rattled, and he shook his head, pleading, “No, no don’t!”

  “You think I lost?” That thing grabbed the chains and yanked Logan to a stop. Then he turned and glared at Beckett with his red eyes, just as the door began to slide shut. “I haven’t lost anything.”

  I jumped over Beckett and off the side of the stage. I pumped my arms, running for that door of magic. I dove for it, trying to shove my body forward as fast as I could. The ring was smaller than my hand. I landed on my stomach just in front of it. The air rushed from my lungs, and I gasped for breath. I hurried to my hands and knees, crawling toward the opening, only to get a last peek through the closing door. It was like looking through a peephole. I closed one eye. That thing grabbed Logan by the shirt and shook him like a rag doll. Logan’s head lolled on his shoulders as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it upright. Then the thing picked him up and threw him as though he weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes. He crashed, headfirst, into a boulder then fell to the ground. “Logan!”

  That monster thing turned toward the little peephole and chuckled. My power rose to the forefront, and I wanted to kill him, to let him know the death I would rain down on him. Before my green smoke could reach that hole, it closed. My heart sank into my stomach, and I sat back on my heels, disbelieving what I’d just seen. Logan was gone—into another world that I had no clue about. No clue where it was or who had him.

  Shrill screams ripped through the dead silence after the door closed. Terrified, agonizing screams. I shot to my feet and turned toward Angel. The girl Logan had been dating. She stood there, with her hands pressed to the sides of her head, screaming at the door. She dropped to her knees and reached out toward where it had been. “No! Logan! No!”

  I narrowed my eyes at her and turned toward Ophelia. “Grab her.”

  Ophelia held a blood-soaked dagger in one hand. She sprinted toward Angel with a snarl on her face. Angel’s eyes went wide a second before Ophelia reached her. She held her hands out in front of her. “S-stop.”

  A tingling of light power skidded over my skin. Ophelia slowed up as she came face to face with Angel. She grabbed her arm and yanked her hard. Angel’s head snapped back, sending that mane of red hair fluttering behind her.

  Angel’s eyes went wide, and her bottom lip quivered. “Stop!” she tried, with more magic and more authority.

  Ophelia tossed her hair over her shoulder, then she yanked Angel to meet her eyes. “You dare to use your magic on me?”

  Her magic flared, and the dagger glinted in her hand. This wasn’t the playful Ophelia I’d grown so used to. This was the Ophelia everyone feared—the one who would cut you down without thinking. She pressed the bloody knife to Angel’s cheek. The blade dented into her skin, and a drop of blood oozed across the silvery blade.

  “Where the hell is he?” Ophelia hissed.

  Angel squeezed her eyes shut and tried to curl away from her. “I-I don’t know.”

  “Bullshit.” Ophelia pressed the knife hard, and Angel cried out in pain.

  “O!” Beckett staggered to his feet and handed Astrid to Cross. “Take care of my girl. I think the poison hasn’t worked out of her body yet.”

  “I got this.” Cross held her gingerly in his arms.

  Beckett rose to his full height and walked to the edge of the stage. He pointed toward Angel. “Lock her up.”

  “But stabby-stab?” Ophelia chuckled like she’d gotten a new toy she didn’t want to let go of. Angel whimpered.

  Beckett shook his head. “You can have her later… when we’re alone.”

  “I like the way you think.” Ophelia straightened her stance. She pulled a piece of bright red paper from her pocket and scribbled something across it with the tip of her knife. When she held it up over her head, it burst into flames and disappeared. She turned to Angel and yanked her closer, so they were eye to eye. “No one will be able to hear her scream then.”

  Angel burst into tears as Ophelia dragged her away. I didn’t feel bad for the girl. Logan had been MIA for weeks, possibly months. Given how he looked, there was no telling. The only thing I did know was that it was too damn long, and that girl might’ve had something to do with it.

  I turned back toward the stage. My hands curled into fists at my sides, and I felt my magic rise. Neon-green smoke fell to the ground around my feet. “He’s gone.”

  Cross held Astrid beside Beckett, and his magic also rose, filling the stage with burgundy smoke. “Do you know where?”

  I shook my head. “I’ve only seen that place in my nightmares.”

  Beckett pressed his lips into a hard line and held his hand over his chest. He swayed on his feet, yet he remained standing. He shoved his blond hair back out of his face. His piercing blue eyes blazed. “We will get him back. No matter what it takes.”

  Chapter 2

  Beckett

  “I swear, I don’t know anything!” Angel’s voice carried through the dank basement of my house.

  “Aww, pretty thing, if only I believed you.” Ophelia chuckled, and the sound of rattling chains filled the air, followed by a whimper.

  Exhaustion ate at me with every step I took. My eyes felt heavy, and I wanted nothing more than to close them. I wound my way through the stacks of papers and boxes that filled the basement. The musty smell assailed my nose, and the cool air seeped through my clothing and into my skin. Though it was chilly, sweat gathered on the back of my neck and ran down my back. I felt drained down to my bones, like I couldn’t muster an ounce of magic even if I tried. Battling Damiel and my father was bad enough. But my tie to Astrid was taking me down with her. If that poison didn’t work its way out of her system soon, we
both would be screwed.

  I turned around the small wall of stuff to just outside the spot where Maze had kept Hugh Nolan. I couldn’t believe it was only days ago when that whole thing went down. Cross followed closely behind with Astrid in his arms.

  He cleared his throat. “You want to me to go put her in her room?”

  “Don’t you dare.” Her voice was thick and groggy.

  Just the sound of her made me stop dead in my tracks. I spun around to face her. Cross slowly placed her on her feet. She stumbled forward, and her arms wrapped around my neck. I wound one of my arms around her back and held her close to my chest, keeping her steady. My heart seemed to beat in time with hers. With my other hand, I brushed her hair back from her pale face. Her skin was cool to the touch, and dark smudges hung under her dazzling emerald eyes.

  Cross stepped around us. “I’ll just make sure Ophelia doesn’t, you know, kill Angel before we get what we want out of her.”

  Another whimper came from just the other side of the wall, and I almost felt bad for Angel… almost. Maze and Penndolyn didn’t even stop to look at us, they just passed by and walked right into the room. I turned my full attention to Astrid. “Are you sure you’re good for this?”

  “Yeah, I must’ve just let out too much power when I was still recovering.” She gave me a slow blink. I could tell even standing was difficult for her.