Wicked awakening, p.1
Wicked Awakening, page 1
Wicked Awakening
Claimed by Gargoyles, Book Two
Copyright © 2022 by Sarah Piper
SarahPiperBooks.com
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Published by Two Gnomes Media
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Cover design by Luminescence Covers
All rights reserved. With the exception of brief quotations used for promotional or review purposes, no part of this book may be recorded, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the express permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, organizations, brands, media, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
v1
E-book ISBN: 978-1-948455-83-1
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-948455-84-8
Audiobook ISBN: 978-1-948455-85-5
Contents
Book Series by Sarah Piper
Get Connected!
About Wicked Awakening
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
About Sarah Piper
Book Series by Sarah Piper
M/F Romance Series
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Monstrous Obsessions
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Vampire Royals of New York
Reverse Harem Romance Series
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Claimed by Gargoyles
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The Witch’s Monsters
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Tarot Academy
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The Witch’s Rebels
Get Connected!
I love connecting with readers! There are a few different ways you can keep in touch:
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Email: sarah@sarahpiperbooks.com
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TikTok: @sarahpiperbooks
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Facebook group: Sarah Piper’s Sassy Witches
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Twitter: @sarahpiperbooks
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Newsletter: Never miss a new release or a sale! Sign up for the VIP Readers Club:
sarahpiperbooks.com/readers-club
About Wicked Awakening
A witch with no power captured by four vicious, possessive, sinfully hot gargoyles…
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Not exactly the makings of a happy ending.
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Yet here in the arms of New York’s most brutal monsters, I’ve never felt so safe. So cherished.
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As we work to obliterate our enemies and solve the mysteries of my past—a past that very well holds the key to unlocking my lost magic and breaking their curse—my gargoyles and I have grown impossibly close.
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But with every enemy destroyed and clue uncovered, through every searing kiss and filthy, forbidden touch, something dark is awakening inside me.
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Something... hungry.
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The gargoyles told me that committing violence takes something from you—and they would know.
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But for me? I’m pretty sure it’s giving something back. Something I’ve been missing for far too long.
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And now that I’ve gotten a taste, I’m afraid my nights of blood and vengeance are just beginning…
Wicked Awakening is also available in audio narrated by Vanessa Edwin, Shane East, Aiden Snow, and Aaron Shedlock!
Chapter One
WESTLYN
10 Years Ago…
Despite how magic goes down in all the movies, the contents of my cauldron do not, in fact, boil and bubble.
They explode, splattering me and Mrs. Larkum in sticky blue goo.
Not too hot, not too cold, not too toxic… Just freaking mortifying.
“Oh, Westlyn.” My teacher frowns beneath the mess dripping down her face, clearly disappointed. I swear the woman has never encountered a witch who couldn’t master the fine art of potions and charms under her expert tutelage, but here I go, blazing trails again.
“I’m doing everything in my power to help you,” she continues, reaching for a tissue, “but I can’t force the spells and correspondences into your mind. If you want to pass my class, you’re going to have to do more than just stay after school. You need to develop a positive mindset, put in the work, and meet me halfway.”
“I’m trying—honestly.” I drag my sleeve across my face, wiping the goo from my eyes. “But I’m never going to be able to cast these spells. That’s not a negative mindset—it’s just a fact. I’ve got no magic of my own.”
“No, but you still need to learn the material. One day, if destiny is kind, you’ll marry into a mage family, where you’ll be expected to support your partner in all things magical and mundane. You can’t be an asset to them if you don’t know your silver slipper powder from your essence of nightwing.”
I wipe my eyes again, grateful for the excuse to cover my face, which is definitely scowling now.
Marry into a mage family... Be an asset…
Right.
For a witch with no mojo, that’s as big as my dreams and aspirations are allowed to get.
I’ve accepted that. But all the forced positivity in the world won’t make me happy about it.
By the time we clean up the classroom and put away the supplies, it’s already dark outside, the deep autumn shadows of Manhattan coming alive beneath the city lights.
“Goodness, I didn’t realize how late it was.” Mrs. Larkum grabs her coat and hits the classroom lights. “Do you need me to call you a cab?”
“No, my dad’s picking me up.” I force the lie through a too-bright smile. “He’s taking me out for dim sum.”
“That sounds nice. Well, in the meantime, keep striving, Westlyn. It’s not time to give up on yourself just yet.”
Goddess. I know she means well, but all I want to say is, so when is it time? Will you let me know, so I can put it on the calendar?
Anyway, I don’t want to disappoint her any more than I already have, so I do the expected thing, as usual—lock in that positive mindset smile, promise I’ll keep trying, and follow her out into the street.
I’m still smiling as we say our goodbyes and I walk alone past Skyline Laundromat and Big Belly Burrito.
Still smiling when I turn the corner at Cheng’s grocer and wave to Mr. Cheng, who’s busy sticking plastic-wrapped bouquets into buckets outside the storefront.
And still smiling on my way to the train… right up until the part where my fellow magical academy student and undisputed champion douchebag Jacob Pomeroy steps out of the alley between a boarded-up hair salon and a hipster brunch place, hands in his pockets, smirk twisting his evil face.
My throat closes up. I nearly trip in my haste to get away, but it’s no use.
“Look who it is, boys,” he sneers, stepping so far into my personal space I can smell the cheap booze on his breath. “Wicked Westlyn.”
“And she’s smiling!” This from Alonzo Florentine, Jake’s partner in crime. He crowds in close, too. Tugs on one of my braids. “What’s so funny, Wicked? Care to share with the class?”
“Fuck off.” I swat his hand away, but he comes right back for another grab, this time touching some of the leftovers from my failed spell. “Looks like you tried to give Papa Smurf a blowjob and missed.”
“Smurf fucker!” A peal of laughter sounds from the alley, and another guy slinks out—a dude everyone calls Full Metal Jacket on account of how completely insane he is. I don’t even know his real name, but he certainly knows mine. “Wicked Westlyn, wandering the city streets alone. It’d be a real shame if anything happened to you.”
“Not like anyone would miss her,” Alonzo says, the three of them now circling me like hungry raptors. “Just a useless, impotent witch taking up space.”
Behind me, Jake grabs my hips and thrusts against my ass. “Too bad you’re tainted, or I’d show you what you’re missing out on. Papa Smurf ain’t got nothing on me.”
I try to jerk free, but he’s relentless, holding me in place while his friends tug and poke, leer and mock.
A few people pass by on the sidewalk, but no one pays us any mind. Just a couple of kids messing around, they assume. Nothing to see here, move along…
“I heard witches without magic come from hell,” Alonzo says. “Demons steal your magic while you’re still in the womb.”
“Her mother died,” Metal says. “Probably fucked too many demons.”
Tears well in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. My bullies have already stolen enough
“Aww, what’s wrong, wicked little beast?” Jake mocks, his breath hot and sour on the back of my neck. “No more smiles?”
Alonzo grabs my face, squeezing so hard my teeth cut the insides of my cheeks. Then he smashes his mouth into mine and shoves his tongue inside me, laughing the entire time.
When he finally pulls back, he’s still laughing. “Come on, Wicked. We’re just playing. Don’t hex us or—oh, wait! That’s right! You can’t!”
More raucous laughter.
“Too bad they don’t make Viagra for witches.” Metal grabs his crotch and wags his tongue at me. “You need a dick for that.”
“Guess you can’t use it either, then,” I finally retort, spitting the taste of Alonzo out of my mouth.
Stupid. I know better than to taunt mage boys, especially when they’re traveling in packs, but the words are out before I can stop them.
“Oh, I’ve got a dick, bitch. I’d show it to you, but I’m not sure you’d know what to do with it.”
“Do you?” I snap, again with the ill-timed mouth.
He unzips his pants and shoves a hand down his boxers. “You wanna find out?”
“Maybe some other time.” I roll my eyes and feign indifference, praying to the goddess I can keep my simmering fear in check. Mage boys can smell it a mile off. “Anyway, my dad’s waiting for me up the block, so—”
“Waiting at the blackjack table, more likely.” Jake slides his arm around my waist and hauls me back against his chest. “Waiting for his ship to come in. Too bad it’s never gonna happen. ‘Loser’ runs in your family.”
“I heard he tried to sell you on Craigslist,” Alonzo says, “but the only offers he got were from pimps.”
“Not even a pimp would pay money for this magicless whore.” Metal shoves his hand between my thighs and gives me a hard squeeze through my jeans. Then, in a dark whisper, “But lucky for us, we get you for free. And now we’re gonna fuck a little magic back into your soul. Would you like that?”
My fear turns into a full-on panic. My hands and feet turn hot and prickly, my heart slamming inside my ribs.
“Let me go,” I grind out, but this only eggs them on. Jake tightens his hold, the other two quickly looking around as if they’re confirming there aren’t any witnesses.
No. No, no, no!
I suck in a breath to scream for help, but Jake’s clamping his hand over my mouth.
Let me go, let me go, let me go…
The words scroll through my mind like a spell, and I squeeze my eyes shut, begging the goddess to let this work. This stupid, simple distraction magic—just this one time. This one fucking time, let me not be a failure…
I frantically try to remember Mrs. Larkum’s lectures on spell casting… Picture the desired outcome, hold the image in mind…
A cop, a mother, a gangbanger, anyone passing by the alley and shooing the boys away…
But no one comes.
The boys don’t scatter.
And now they’re all around me, big mouths taunting me, big hands dragging me into the alley, back behind the dumpster. I try to kick free, try to scream, but they’re too strong, too cruel, too everything…
They’re going to rape me. They’re going to rape and mutilate me and leave my broken body bleeding out in the alley and my father won’t even know I’m dead…
Fear sours my gut, and with one last surge of pure adrenaline, I slam my head backward and stomp down hard, simultaneously smashing Jake’s nose and crushing his instep. With a howl of pain, he shoves me away and stumbles back, but I still can’t escape. The other guys are on me again in a blink, smothering my screams, stealing my breath, dragging me down, down, down…
“Stop wiggling, whore.” Metal straddles me on the ground and pins my wrists over my head, the concrete scraping my skin raw. Alonzo holds my feet, and then out of nowhere, Jake’s back. He kneels beside me, broken nose leaking blood into his mouth, a flash of something silver in his hand—a pen? A knife?—and then he grabs my throat and jabs me hard in the neck and everything just… goes… dark.
Chapter Two
WESTLYN
10 Years Ago…
Oil. Some kind of motor oil. Rotten garbage. Piss. A dead rodent and the unmistakable scent of lit candles…
The discordant mix assaults my nose, making me gag. I gasp for breath, and my eyelids fly open, awareness rushing through me in a hot wave.
I’m lying face-down on the subway tracks, spread eagle, bound to the rails by my wrists and ankles. Black candles surround me, their flickering yellow-orange glow the only light source in the tunnel.
I’m naked from the waist up.
My jeans, thankfully, are still intact, and I don’t feel any pain down there.
But my relief at the small miracle is short-lived, fear flooding my limbs with a vengeance.
“Good morning, wicked little beast,” the dark voice taunts. “Enjoy the nap?”
Jake.
He and his boys emerge from the tunnel with several others I recognize from school, the candlelight exaggerating their features, making them look even more vicious and terrifying than they did aboveground.
“Help!” I scream, not wasting my chance this time. I remember learning that you’re supposed to yell ‘fire’ when you need help because people are more likely to respond. So that’s what I do. “Fire! Fire! Somebody help!”
My pleas echo down the endless tunnel behind them. I whip my head around, frantically trying to get my bearings, desperate to find a friendly face.
There aren’t any, though. Only monsters.
“Scream all you want, Wicked,” Metal says. “No one will hear you. No one will come.”
“That’s… that’s not true,” I stammer. “The police are always...”
The words die on my tongue as the realization hits.
This is an abandoned station.
The subway platform is empty. Nothing but chipped tiles and rusted metal beams as far as the eye can see. Old newspapers and trash strewn across the concrete. A cracked sign indicating the train lines—four, five, six.
But just because it’s not an active subway stop doesn’t mean the trains skip over it.
Fresh panic seizes my chest.
“Untie me!” I shout, my throat cracking with the effort. “The trains still pass through here!”
“The four train, yep,” Metal says. “Doesn’t stop, though. Doesn’t even slow down.” He glances at his phone. “But we’ve got an hour before the next one’s due, which gives us plenty of time.”
“T-time for what?” I ask. Tears run down my cheeks, mixing with snot.
