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Eternal Curse: A New Adult Urban Fantasy Series (The Urban Fae Series Book 1)
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Eternal Curse
The Urban Fae Series Book 1
R.L Wilson
Copyright © 2020 by R.L. Wilson
All rights reserved.
No parts of this book reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronically or mechanically, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction names characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the authors imagination or used in a fictious manner. Any resemblance to actual person living or dead or actual events is purely coincidental.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Cover Designer: Gombar Sonja
Editing: Theresa Schultz
Proof Reader: Cassie Hess-Dean
Formatting: R.L. Wilson
R.L.Wilson
Eternal Curse, The Urban Fae Series, Book One, March 2020
ASIN:
R. L.Wilson/Exquisite Novelty Publishing LLC
[email protected]
Website: rlwilsonauthor.com
Created with Vellum
Contents
Acknowledgments
Prologue
1. 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
Also by R.L Wilson
Acknowledgments
Thank you for purchasing Eternal Curse
Thank you to all my supporters, friends, Arc group, and beta readers for encouraging me, even on the days when I wanted to throw the towel in.
Special thanks to Kelly your mentorship is invaluable. You kept me motivated, gave me advice, and never asked for anything in return. The world needs more people like you.
Special thanks to my husband and kids who stayed up late listening to my ideas and being alpha readers. I hope to make you guys proud of me.
Last but not Least I have to thank God for giving me the strength and the courage to keep striving.
R.L.Wilson
Blurb
An eternal contract that could destroy her life, her love, and even a city.
My magic isn’t a gift—it’s a curse, passed down from one generation to the next.
With bills piling up, I signed a contract with a devil in exchange for money. Little did I know the contract is eternal. Whenever I’m summoned, I have to use my magic for illegal operations.
After two years, I want out.
When I meet Kato, a Voodoo priest, he promises to release me from my shackles. I’m desperate enough, and I selfishly take that chance. It’s his life, not mine, after all. But the closer I get to Kato, the more I think that losing him might be just as hard to take as this life I’m stuck in.
Now I have two options. Freedom from my magic or freedom from this contract. Either one will be nearly impossible to achieve.
Can Kato free me before everything precious to me is destroyed?
Fans of Patricia Briggs will love this blend of urban fantasy and slow-burn paranormal romance wrapped into one magical adventure in the eternal curse.
Scroll up and take ONE CLICK to start this magical journey.
Prologue
“Hell yeah, I need some money.” I’m seventeen, homeless, and hungry. Barry slides me a piece of paper across the lunch table. I tear it open and it’s a telephone number with Prentiss at the top. The local Mr. Everything. Got bills, call Prentiss; getting bullied, call Prentiss. He is sort of the president of the supernatural world.
“You sure I should call him?” I yell. The lunchroom is always noisy. Two hundred teens in the cafeteria at one time is a recipe for disaster.
“What do you have to lose?” He stood from the table and pulled his pants up before grabbing his lunch tray.
“Nothing, I guess.”
“It’s better to know you’re going to eat tonight than wonder. I’ll catch you later,” Barry says before making his way out of the double doors.
This is a terrible idea. I lean back in the chair. Glaring at the number, my choices are clear. Either I call him or go home. The last place I want to go. Momma has kicked me out for the last time.
I have a book bag with two sets of clothes, a couple of granola bars, and a cell phone to my name. I’ve stayed with a different friend every night for the past two weeks. I need my own money, my own place to stay.
I leave school to give him a call. Rapid, sharp pains sizzled in my abdomen. I’m shaking nervous. I’m a complete stranger calling to ask for a job. I do have some magic powers, so maybe I could offer my healing services for pay.
Walking down the street, I shiver in the cool air. My jacket is thin with holes in the pocket, and I don’t have any gloves. It sucked being a homeless teen. I grab my cell phone, hesitate, take a deep breath, and then dial the number.
“Hello, can I speak to Prentiss?” My palms grow moist with sweat.
“Speaking, how can I help you?”
“My name is Harmony.”
“Harmony!” he cuts me off. “I’ve been awaiting your call.”
“You have?”
“Sure, meet me at the McDonalds on the corner of Seventh Avenue at four o’clock.”
I should have walked away when he pulled up in a white Hummer.
Standing on the corner, I’m surrounded by darkness. It lurks in every nook and crack. I had no clue the biggest snake would be sitting in that fancy SUV. Wearing a three-hundred-dollar suit with an overpriced tie.
I’m sure I seem quite irresponsible, but at this point I’m desperate.
The tinted back window lowers, exposing a big hand. The hand waves in a motion for me to come over. This must be him, I thought. Why the hell doesn’t he show his face? I’m kind of creeped out—I’m not sure who’s sitting in the back of the car.
I slip my hands in my pockets and walk closer to the car. Shivering and sweating, I bend over to take a peek. The car was dark, but I could tell it was Prentiss. I had seen him around; he even came to my middle school once, when I was eleven, he came for career day.
“Get in.”
I hesitate and then pop the door open. Slipping into the back seat made me tense. The car had that new car scent. I thought he was rich. The car, the clothes, and the thick build…he wouldn’t understand my struggle. Maybe he has never had grumbling hunger pains or the holey socks.
“I hear you got some financial problems?”
The lights in the car dim so I can’t get a good look at his face. Truly, I couldn’t see his eyes. I really wanted to see his eyes to know if he was sincere or not.
“Yeah, I kind of do.”
“You looking for some work?”
I grimace. “It depends on what type of work.”
“Relax, it’s nothing illegal.” He slips his hand into the inside pocket of his coat. H
e flicks a piece of paper and a pen toward me. The streetlights glint off his watch. A shiny gold one.
“I know you can perform magical healings. I need help healing.” He shrugs.
I wipe the sweat from my forehead. Great, that’s just what I had in mind. The main thing is how much is he going to pay me? I need enough money to eat.
“How much will you pay me?”
“First, let’s take care of the business. “You sign these papers,” he indicates the paper and a pen, “and I’ll give you two grand right now.”
Two grand, as in thousands? Did he just say that? I must be tripping. I’ve never seen two thousand dollars in my life. I’ll heal anybody for that.
I take a big swallow. “You mean two thousand dollars?”
His eyes dart around “Yeah.”
I snatch the pen and paper. “Where do I sign?”
“Right here on the dotted line. Put the date next to your signature.”
He hands me a white envelope filled with crisp Ben Franklins; my heart skips a beat every time I count another hundred. I glance over in his direction. I swear flames danced in his irises.
Little did I know, I was signing my life away. With a measly two thousand dollars, he took advantage of me. I was so naive.
My fate has been signed, sealed, and delivered. I’ll have this century-old curse for eternity. Forever, I’m bonded to the devil.
Chapter 1
Two Years Later
I hold my breath as I dice onions on the stainless-steel counter, waiting to get back on the register, the smell of fried burgers makes my stomach churn.
Terry walks in wearing his usual tight slacks and blue-collared shirt. He’s the worst manager here, always stalking over my shoulder and pointing out my mistakes. As if he doesn’t have a ton of flaws.
“Harmony, you can get back on register three,” he says.
The overpowering pungency of the onions invades my nose as I walk to the sink to wash my hands before dashing to the register, sweat trickling down my face but my spirits lifting. I hate working in the hot, humid, greasy grill kitchen, and I can hear my coworkers chattering with envy behind me as I make my escape.
The sound of embellished teenage laughter and overzealous conversation drifting through the restaurant reminds me of my high school days, back when life made sense.
The towns slut trots toward my register and I cringe. Always loud and looking down her big nose at folks. Supposedly, a shifter knocked her up, but she hides it well; her spandex top is so tight it could stop her circulation.
“Hey, I’ll have a number three, please,” she requests while bouncing around like a dizzy bee. She can’t stand still.
“Sure.” I glare at her while biting my tongue. The ding of the cash register fills the awkward silence as I enter her order and slip the change into her hand.
The heated light blazing above the fries nearly burns my arm as I fill a medium order, then slap a greasy burger and a Coke on a brown tray before sliding it across the counter.
Winston rushes into the restaurant in a frenzy. He’s breathing fast and his face glistens with sweat. He’s always been hairy. But no one has ever noticed he’s a werewolf. Living in Silver Park has its advantages. Nearly everyone is a supernatural, and we blend in well.
He grabs my hand. “I need you now, come quick.”
My heart thunders against my rib cage. Winston never comes to my job in a panic. I have a clue regarding what happened, and it’s a disaster.
I scan the room for Terry, locating him flipping burgers. I race to the back and grab my purse before stopping by the grill on my way out the door.
“I have to run, Terry. It’s an emergency.”
His jaw drops and his eyes bore into mine. It’s busy in the restaurant; he needed me to work. But I don’t give him a chance to respond. I continue out the door with Winston.
The sun had tucked itself behind the gray clouds, but no smell of rain. The howling wind blows dust throughout the air. My blonde hair with pink tips sways to the side of my face, causing my skin to itch. I slip a rubber band around my hair. Getting prepared for whatever disaster is ahead.
Winston’s eyes dance with fear. “The dragons came in and attacked a customer at my restaurant,” he says while panting.
The dragons were shifter’s that lived in paranormal communities. Except they all linked together to form a gang. I’ve never seen one shift into a dragon. But dad had and he says some of them are huge with giant wings and could shoot fire twenty feet away.
We continued sprinting toward his restaurant. I’m short-winded and my anxiety is kicking into high gear. But where’s the protector of Silver Park?
“Where is Prentiss?” I ask while pulling my purse over my head.
“I called him he told me to come and get you to heal the customer.” His hair flew across his face so he pushed it back. Winston’s tall stature and long legs make it hard for me to keep up. I’m only five feet five inches, with short legs.
There’s something about Prentiss; he gives off negative vibes. All the paranormals admire Prentiss. I don’t. He is out for himself. He has an ulterior motive—I’m not sure what. But I have my eye on him.
“These dragons are getting out of control. I have a family to care for and a business to run.” His forehead now flushes with wrinkles. Showing his anger.
The dragons have been out of control recently. Prentiss needs to handle them.
We continue racing through Night Heights, a subdivision where shifters live, and the kids come out at night and are safe to shift during full moons. I used to attend parties in the Heights when I was in high school, and the shifters party hard. The houses are the same framed tri-levels, with wrought iron fences.
We get to Silver Park and there’s a crowd standing outside Winston’s pizza place. Constant chatter roars from the crowd. They peek through the glass hoping to get a glimpse of the victim. Word spreads fast in small supernatural communities. A dragon injures a shifter, it’s front-page news.
I follow behind Winston trying to cut through the crowd.
“Excuse me! Excuse me, let us through,” Winston barks.
It seems like the entirety of Silver Park is outside the restaurant. Where was everyone when the dragon attacked the victim? We need to stand together; instead, we expect Prentiss to handle everything. And he does, however, it comes with a price.
We make it inside and my heart sinks. A lifeless body lies on the floor. The palpable tension engulfed the room as the onlookers crowd around, gasping in fear. The place reeked of pizza and stale cigarettes. I cover my nose, waving away the gross aroma.
I sprint past three tables, racing to the man’s side. He lies flat on his back, with his head propped on a towel, his face flushed. What should I do? He’s hanging on by a thread. His right arm is blackened from a dragon burn. Small open areas of flesh and blood seep onto the floor. I’ve healed dragon burns before, but not one this severe. I don’t know if I’m skilled enough for this tragedy.
I assess his body for more burns. I only notice the huge burn covering his hand and the entire right forearm.
He grimaces, his blue eyes fading. I imagine the pain he’s enduring. I’ve never received a dragon burn before but heard it’s the worst. He grabs my hand, his grip firm. I check his pulse; it’s faint but steady. The light glints, exposing his handsome features. His face is free from wrinkles and he appears to be in his late twenties.
“Give her some room, everyone outside,” Winston says.
The crowd disperses. Now I can perform the healing. I haven’t seen him around Silver Park. Maybe he lived in Night Heights.
“Pass me a bottled water?” I ask Winston.
I extract my hand from the man’s grip. Winston brings the bottled water. I cup my hands together and Winston pours water in my palms. I rub the water between my fingers. As I dip into the magic at the very center of my being, calmness and cleansing consumes me.
The flow of energy is suffocating within me.
I put my hands on the patient and zap my energy into him. I locate the problem—there’s an internal burn. This is a third-degree dragon burn. It shakes me to my core. I hope I can heal this man in time. I’m not sure if he has a family, but his life lays in the palm of my hands.
Blood continues to puddle on the floor, flowing faster now. Dark rough spots similar to tree bark encircle his arm. My heart rate kicks up a notch. Sweat clings to my forehead and the nape of my neck. Winston’s blabbing fades in and out. My focus is on the man dying before my eyes. I scrape my finger against his rough arm. But I continue holding his arm until the bleeding ceases. He grimaces, snatching his hand away.
I haven’t fully healed him and if he doesn’t let me finish, he’ll be in big trouble. Bangs on the window startle me as fear skitters up my spine. The last thing I want on my conscience is a death, especially not a fellow supernatural.
Winston opens the door and yells, “Let her do her job,” to the crowd, who demand to know if everything is okay.
“Come back in an hour,” he shouts while slamming the door.
“What’s his name?” I ask. I need to talk to him and calm him down. His body is stiff as a board.
“Patrick is his name,” Winston says.
I lean in close and whisper in his ear. I didn’t want to startle him. “Hi, Patrick, I’m Harmony. I’m a healer, stay still and let me heal your wounds.” His muscles relax at the sound of my voice.