Wicked Webs
CoraLee June Raven Kennedy
Copyright © 2019 by CoraLee June & Raven Kennedy
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the authors, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by Nichole Witholder
Edits by Helayna Trask
Created with Vellum
For Helayna, the best editor out there. Thank you for sticking with us through this monster of a book—pun intended. We love your jokes and your expertise. Our books wouldn't be the same without you.
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
Epilogue
Thank You For Reading
About the Author
About the Author
Also by CoraLee June and Raven Kennedy
Chapter 1
You’d think that a graduation ceremony at a prestigious academy for hundreds of supernaturals would have less nudity, but for some damn reason, every time one of the shifters was called to walk the stage, another graduation gown was ripped off, howls erupted, and then dicks and boobs were swinging like pendulums before they made their shift and pranced off the stage. Shifters were so damn obnoxious sometimes.
The camaraderie was infectious, though. Friends and supernatural-sanctioned cliques giggled excitedly, and proud parents cheered in the auditorium. You could taste the sense of nostalgia in the air. Everyone was sad to leave Thibault Academy behind.
Everyone but me.
Luckily, I didn’t have to wait too long for my own name to be announced. There seemed to be a quiet sense of boredom when “Motley Coven” was called out, with just a few polite claps. I didn’t let it bother me, though. I sashayed my vampiric ass across the stage and scooped up my diploma with pride.
Headmaster Torne barely spared me a glance before he turned to greet the student after me. Of course, they got a smile and a congratulatory pat on the back. Some might be bitter at the dismissive way this school treated me, but I’d learned not to expect much from my five years of attending Thibault as a scholarship student.
I was pretty much the scum of the school. I was put down for my weaknesses as a vamp and lack of a good family name, but I didn’t give a fire-hell fuck. I got to attend one of the best supernatural academies in the world. Because of that and this diploma now clutched in my sweaty hand, I was going to make something of myself.
As I descended the stage, I looked down at Aunt Marie, who was standing off by herself in the corner. Her bony hands shook as she clapped for me, and I could see the pride on her face. It had been a long road to get to this point. Everything I did was for her.
I might not have had the roaring applause that the populars or the paragons got, but I had a cheering section of one, and that was all I needed.
I walked out of the room through the door behind the stage and headed into the reception area in Thibault’s ostentatious ballroom, where the rest of the graduates were already milling around. Naturally, all four of the breeds had segregated themselves in a corner of the room—vampires, necromancers, shifters, and elementals tended to stick to their own kind. And then there was the lowly scholarship charity case like me, and I just kept to myself.
I made my way over to the vampire’s area, my mouth already watering from the smell of bloody cocktails being served. I snatched up a champagne flute brimming with O negative from a passing server and downed the drink in one go. With slightly shaking hands, I leaned against the wood panelled wall and studied the thick roll of parchment in my hand.
This was it. Whatever slip of paper was inside my diploma would determine the rest of my long, immortal life. Because today wasn’t just about graduating from Thibault. Today, we also received our placements into internships, higher education, or jobs in the supernatural community. In short, it was a big fucking deal, especially for me.
I didn’t have pure blood or a big, important family name. I didn’t have an overabundance of power or friends in high places. I was smart, and I was driven. That was it. Which was why I busted my ass at this school for five years—so that I could get a good position in society and work my way up from there. I was done being the poor, parentless Motley Coven charity case. I was going to be more.
“You weren’t going to open that without me, were you?” a kind, motherly voice said to my left.
I smiled and turned to see the red-haired woman who’d approached. “Aunt Marie,” I greeted her warmly.
My sweeping gaze assessed every nuance of her expression. The corners of her eyes were wrinkled, and her lips, although coated with pale pink lipstick, seemed dry. Her shoulders were stiff, lifted so high they nearly touched her fashionable silver hoop earrings. She was tense—beautiful, but tense.
I’d learned to look out for signs of bloodlust since her first episode when I was seven. I still remembered that day. The gentle woman who sewed me dresses with pockets and baked bloody cookies had turned into a frenzied, ravenous animal. She tore our living room apart and screamed for blood, her manic need forcing me to hide in the cupboard under the kitchen sink.
When it was all over, I found her in the bathroom, with dozens of empty blood bags littering the floor. She’d eaten everything we owned—every carefully rationed ounce of it. We lived off a very strict allowance, so that loss had taken weeks to recoup.
