Wicked Witch: A Post-Apocalyptic Paranormal Romance (The Wickedest Witch Book 1) Read online

  “Gold or not, you’ll be cold if you don’t listen carefully,” Kaara said. “The last big male we had in our coven tried to lay a finger on my mistress—his blood froze to ice, and his veins burst open. He was even prettier than you.”

  I grinned and borrowed her former words. “If you say so.”

  Hadn’t Fiammetta pulled her little stunt on me? And I had fucked her, though it’d been disrupted. I would seek her out and hook up with her soon.

  Kaara led me down to the basement of the tower.

  I lay down on the narrow bed in a room that had nothing except the basic amenities, my broken wings draping on the ground. My mind wasn’t focused on my ship, my crew, or my mission. It was filled with Fiammetta, replaying how she’d fucked me in a way I had never been fucked before.

  My hand drifted down my stomach and I divested myself of my trousers, thoughts of the feisty witch and her hot body stiffening my already hard member.

  I wrapped my fist around my rock-hard cock in a rough grip, emulating the way Fiammetta had stroked me. I pumped my fist up and down with the same vigor she had used, imagining that my hand was hers.

  I would fuck her before I left this savage planet.

  11

  The Angel

  A loud banging on my door woke me up before dawn.

  I was called to duty before I had time to groom myself.

  A team of nine gathered around the table in the dining room. We shared rough bread and stale cheese as breakfast.

  There was no coffee.

  “Is Lady Fiammetta going to join us?” I asked, wondering where she was.

  The table roared with laughter.

  “The great one who calls himself Captain Thumb Song wants to dine with Lady Fiammetta,” Rocky said. The axe-wielder had green scales on his massive arms.

  I couldn’t pinpoint his species either. Angels had conquered two-thirds of the universe, but not this part of the world.

  I shrugged. “She has to eat, right?”

  “She’ll freeze your balls if you don’t watch where you’re going, trainee,” said a male with a tattoo of a wild boar on his bald scalp.

  Had he just called a mighty Archangel, who had traveled to thousands of worlds in the universe, an intern?

  His companions guffawed some more.

  Any other Angel would strike them down. Perhaps I should do the same.

  My hand went to the hilt of my sword.

  Kaara strode in, and the vulgar laughter died.

  “Get your gear,” she commanded. “We’re heading to the arena.” Her gaze swept to my wings draped awkwardly behind me.

  The group pushed aside their half-finished dishes and rose.

  They feared the witch, but they respected their violet-haired commander.

  We moved away from the Witch Tower and hurried toward the city blocks ahead in three groups. Rocky led one group in the front. Kaara kept me in her group in the middle. The bald, tattooed male brought up the rear with another group. I’d learned his name was Boar.

  “You’ll follow my lead and do what I tell you,” Kaara said. “Try not to do anything rash and stupid that will get you killed. I can see you’re the reckless type, but this place isn’t like anything you’ve ever experienced. We don’t expect or respect kindness, but we value the will and discipline to survive. Our mistress saved you and brought you out of the jungle. It’s up to you to prove yourself worthy of her protection.”

  I laughed. These amateurs treated me like a fledging. And this little girl, who hadn’t lived for a drop of my immortal life, was lecturing me on how to stay alive. She’d also played the events that had transpired in the jungle backwards. I’d defended Fiammetta and torn an opening for her to escape. But I wouldn’t argue with the little girl. It was beneath me.

  This experience was both comical and infuriating.

  “What’s the drill?” I asked lazily.

  For the time being, I would play the fool.

  “We scavenge every day,” she said, “and hope for a ship to fall while we’re in the field.”

  “Sounds fun,” I said.

  Her assignment and my goal matched. I needed to reach my crew as soon as possible.

  Last night, I’d tried the device on my uniform a hundred times, only to find I had come to a planet in a dead zone. The only way to get to them now was to sweep the city block by block.

  Kaara shrugged. “I hope you’ll still have that spirit after being stuck here for a week.”

  A low whistle rose from the team in the front, and Kaara waved for the rear team to move closer. We weren’t in the witch’s territory anymore.

  The streets were eerily quiet and spelled danger.

  We hurried through the shady streets lined with half-burned buildings and vacant shops.

  “Watch out for hostile hordes,” Kaara said in a hushed voice. “We’ve lost people with every run. You wear a space uniform, so you probably don’t understand how a planet that’s full of unlawful monsters works.”

  “I look forward to meeting the colorful characters.”

  I didn’t tell her that Angels were known as the worst virulent monsters on all colonized worlds.

  I spotted a vast spaceship flapping through the dark clouds high in the sky.

  Anxiety surged in me until I was sure it wasn’t ThunderSong.

  “A ship’s falling,” I said. “I estimate it’ll crash in about two minutes. We’re relatively safe where we are.”

  Kaara gave me a look before calling her team to halt. A minute later, they saw the spacecraft plunge toward the land.

  “Take cover!” Kaara yelled.

  The whole city shook at the impact. I turned to look at the Witch Tower in the distance, and my gut twisted. The tower might fall and Fiammetta was still sleeping.

  I wouldn’t get to her in time without my wings.

  12

  The Witch

  I flashed open my eyes before the floor tilted and the tower swayed.

  I grabbed the pole of the bed to prevent myself from being thrown off. I was inside a tower on the top floor, but I hadn’t an idea how I’d gotten here.

  Had I always slept here?

  The tower stopped shuddering, but I started shaking.

  My mind was completely blank. I didn’t know my name.

  I lay still for a minute, waiting for the panic to pass, waiting for my mind to register something.

  Nothing.

  Only my ragged breaths sounded in my ears on top of my drumming heartbeat.

  I grappled with the silky sheet, my hands drenched in cold sweat. I fought to focus, trying to recall something, anything. Sharp pain stabbed my brain at the effort.

  My throat was parched.

  I bolted up in bed and rushed to the window, immediately taken aback by the sight of the partial, broken terrace outside. It was as if some monster had torn off the railings and half of its construction with claws.

  A half-ruined city blazing with fire and smoke sprawled beneath my feet. Who, or what, had burned the city?

  Where was I?

  I looked up at the dim sky.

  There wasn’t a ray of sunshine. I knew what sunshine would feel like. That was a start. But that slim hope couldn’t expel the raw fear whirling around in me.

  I turned to look at the door. Was I a prisoner?

  Had someone wiped away my memories and locked me on the highest floor of the tower to prevent me from escaping?

  Who was I? What had I done to deserve this?

  I controlled my urge to pound on the door, for fear of what I would find out, for fear of my abductor. And I feared something worse.

  Calm down, I commanded myself, but panic still choked me. I suppressed the scream threatening to tear through my throat.

  It wouldn’t be wise to make a sound.

  I tried again to reach my memory, searching through my brain for any clue as to who and where I was, and again pain exploded in my head. I doubled over from the agony and a wave of nausea roiled up into m
y airway.

  Breathe! Just breathe, I told myself, panting through the pain.

  Help me, please!

  I froze as a strange sensation pricked my arm.

  At my silent plea, a faint light beamed on my left arm. With it, glyphs appeared, dancing on my skin like gentle waves. I knew how to read the magical runes and symbols. Through it, I learned basic information about myself.

  My name was Fiammetta, though it might not be my given name. I was the Wickedest Witch in the universe, and I had been living in this tower for three years.

  Each morning I woke up like this, unable to remember anything from my past. Not only couldn’t I remember how I had gotten here, I couldn’t form and store any new memories either.

  The glyphs were my only aide, and the space on my skin was limited, so I couldn’t make note of all events and people.

  I removed my sleeping gown and examined my body for other markings. They covered more than two-thirds of my body, and I had recorded only crucial information.

  I absorbed the data and waited for it to trigger my memories.

  Nothing stirred in the dark recesses of my mind.

  According to my markings, I needed to open the door and meet Kaara Nightshades next.

  I didn’t remember her face, but I could manage her. As I’d learned from the inscriptions on my skin, everyone in the tower feared me, so no one would question me. I’d established routines and order since I’d taken over the Witch Tower.

  My breath evened, and my confidence returned.

  My fury burned.

  I prowled through every day with a single, determined purpose—remembering who I was and getting revenge on whoever had done this to me.

  As I searched desperately for more information, my gaze fixed on a drawing of a pair of black wings carrying a bridge made of fire under my name: Fiammetta. Beneath the wings was a fluctuated line: Icearth 2788h 450.7m, −88975.01° (Y-1034b).

  I had no idea what that meant and how it had ended up on my arm. After I went through all of the glyphs on my body, I realized it was the only riddle I couldn’t decipher. Icearth could be a name, a place, or a code. The initial number of 2788 with an h was beyond my understanding, and the rest of the figures were also lost on me.

  Somehow I knew I would only move forward when I’d deciphered that riddle.

  A foreboding sense sent shivers down my spine and a ticking urgency burned in my head.

  My markings warned me that this perilous alien planet could be destroyed at any time. I had to enter the jungle no one else dared to step in to find the portal I had been shoved through. I hadn’t made any progress during my years here because I couldn’t gather my memories, because I didn’t possess the proper tools and knowledge to locate the portal, and because the jungle was like a metaphysical dimension that shifted at will.

  I’d added the accumulated knowledge onto my skin, but every day I had to relearn everything.

  Taking a deep breath, I turned the knob, reminding myself that I shall fear nothing, and all shall fear me.

  I was the Wickedest Witch.

  As soon as I pulled open the door, I recognized my signature. I’d warded my suite.

  “Kaara!” I called, my voice icy, dry, but assertive.

  One male and one female of different species appeared on the stairs one floor beneath my suite. They didn’t show any panic, despite the fact that the tower had been shaking for several seconds. Which meant this wasn’t new. I would pursue the information later as to exactly what kind of planet I’d been banished to.

  “Lady Fiammetta.” They bowed.

  Indeed, Fiammetta was my name. Kaara had to be the woman who had yellow horns. Interesting. I didn’t feel any affection or recognition toward her. I wondered why my markings wanted me to trust her.

  “Kaara?” I asked cautiously and waited for her to respond before I made the next move.

  “Kaara went to raid the ship,” the horned female said. “Otsana at your service.”

  “Pattern at your service,” the half-human male said.

  I eyed the glass of water and a spare cup in Otsana’s hands. Otsana poured a small portion of the water into the spare cup and drained it, then she hurried up the stairs and handed me the glass of water.

  I approved of this effective system of preventing anyone from poisoning me. Had I established it? I’d thought I was feared. But it seemed I was hated as well.

  I sniffed the water as I studied the guards. They both lowered their heads and stared at the ground. I took a sip of the water and almost sighed with happiness as it soothed my throat.

  I handed the empty glass to Otsana and my heartbeat resumed its normal pace. She gripped the glass, terrified of dropping it. It seemed I was a harsh mistress. I controlled my urge to touch her lovely horns and swallowed back a thank you. If they feared me so much, I needed to keep up with my reputation to stay safe.

  “Dismissed,” I said as I descended the stairs. “Have Kaara report to me when she returns.”

  My mind remained blank, but the sense of urgency returned.

  I was running out of time.

  With an icy mask in place on my face, I strode out of the tower.

  Everyone stayed out of my way, including the two large wolves patrolling the perimeter with my guards. Kaara had acquired the powerful shifter alpha as her mate, so the wolves had become part of her security team.

  I didn’t spare them a second look but glanced at the map on my skin and followed it toward the dark jungle.

  13

  The Angel

  Kaara placed a hand on my arm before I bolted toward the tower.

  “The tower won’t fall,” she said.

  “How could you know that?” I snapped. “A lot of innocent people will die if it falls!”

  Even as the words left my mouth, I knew how ridiculous it sounded.

  Angels didn’t care for the innocent.

  “All the ships that fall always fall in the arena,” she said, sending me a mocking glance to let me know she knew I was covering up my concern for Fiammetta. “Your ship is the only ship to ever crash in the jungle. No one could come out of Akem’s realm alive except for the Wickedest Witch. You were extremely lucky she was there when you crashed. You owe her a life debt for saving your ass.”

  “She saved my ass?” I asked incredulously.

  The Wicked Witch’s people were just as bad as she was.

  “And no one is innocent on Pandemonium,” Kaara said. “Do you know what kind of ships usually crash here? Many empires pack their criminals and exiles in old, outdated ships and send them to this planet for punishment.”

  “Is that how you got here?” I asked. “You don’t look like a criminal, so you must be an exile.”

  “I’m neither,” she said. “I volunteered to come here.”

  “For your wolf lover?” I glanced over at the tower as I spoke and the knot in my stomach eased after it stopped rocking.

  Kaara trained her eyes on the ship that had settled in the arena and the thick smoke rising ahead of us.

  “Battle ready!” she called to her team before turning to me. “Cut down anyone in our path, except for the wolf shifters.”

  “How am I going to tell who’s who?” I asked. “I prefer to stab anyone in front of me.”

  “They howl and most of them shift to wolves when they fight,” Rocky said beside me. “They’re hotheads, the complete opposite of the cold bloodsuckers.”

  We crouched down together. I didn’t care for the cramped space. Before I used my wings to shove off a couple of them, I noticed three groups of different species charged toward the arena and collided into one another.

  “We wait until two-thirds of them are down,” Kaara said. “Then we’ll move in with stealth.”

  I didn’t care about being sneaky, but I decided to go with the flow.

  I followed the lot and dashed from one shabby street to another to remain unseen, as Kaara had sternly instructed.

  This was child’s play
.

  We sprang along some run-down buildings until we arrived at the grand arena.

  Most of the stone columns had been demolished. From my experience, I instantly knew gladiators had once lived and breathed in this coliseum. Their fleeting glory was no more. Judging from the size and build and purpose of the arena, I would say whoever had once ruled the city had been bloodthirsty.

  Had Atlas’ Reaper Angels once colonized this place?

  The most appalling sight was the hundreds of wrecked spaceships and expedited shuttles overlapping one another, all weathered and abandoned.

  Smoke wafted from the spaceship that had just crashed, the name Hope ingrained on its white hull. From the ring of five stars, I was sure it had to be one of the escaped ships of Species 581. High Prince Seth had conquered their race and colonized their planet nine centuries ago. Hope had gotten away.

  Now it had fallen on this savage planet. Even more unfortunate for the survivors—if there were any—they’d soon meet an Archangel.

  I chuckled. What a small world.

  I didn’t like to prey on others’ misery, but I was glad they’d come down to the ground. I needed to use their communication devices to contact ThunderSong. I needed to know what the hell was going on. If Racer had neglected his duty, he would pay dearly. Worrying about being fired would be his least concern.

  My ship would never leave without me. I was the soul and brain of ThunderSong and my crew was loyal to a fault, despite having acted like loose cannons after the war.

  Four more clans entered the fray in the arena. They all wanted that ship. The frenzy of blood was everywhere. I could smell the tang of iron in the air.

  We pressed ourselves against the façades of the empty shops, waiting out the battle.

  Kaara’s perfect plan of waiting until the clans had almost wiped each other out would have worked well, if a horde of creatures that looked similar to the hairless, blue-skinned Dragonians from Earth hadn’t spotted us.

  The newcomers charged at us with homemade arrows, knives, and hammers.

  They cut off our escape route, leering at us with vicious, ugly grins, but I couldn’t care less.