Wicked Charm

By Kinsley Harris

Neither Nicole DaPrile or Shawn Grasen ever gave much thought to love or fate.

Nicole, a seventeen-year-old girl, has two best friends she loves as sisters, is an only child, and approaching the first day of senior year. The only missing piece from normal teenage life is, she never knew her father. Other than this little anomaly, Nicole couldn’t be happier. Shawn, a vampire, has only a love for blood, and he leaves fate up to whoever finds themselves in a confrontation with him. He, too, couldn’t be more satisfied with his vampire existence. However, it is fate when Nicole and Shawn crash into one another at a party, through simple but life-changing eye contact, the two fall in love and begin down a path, turning their worlds upside down. Their connection awakens something lying dormant within Nicole that outside forces hope will never surface. Can Shawn help Nicole through this transition or will he have to let her go for all eternity?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kinsley Harris
• Release date: Feb 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215944165

Kinsley Harris

Kinsley Harris was born in Rockford, Ill and is currently based in Dallas, Texas with her high school first love and husband. Outside of writing, her interests are reading, online shopping, TV binge watching, listening to music, and spending time with family. A lifelong lover of all-things supernatural, Wicked Charm is Kinsley’s first venture.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Crowley Paper Manufacturing warehouse

- Closed 2014 -

H ey, let’s cut through the alley. I don’t feel like walking the whole block, Henry said, stopping at the entrance to the dark alley.

But the alley smells like piss and old garbage. C’mon, it won’t take that long to circle the block, Mason said, as he stepped forward to continue their trek.

Henry grabbed Mason’s forearm and steered him towards the alley. Nah man, it won’t take long, so the assault on your senses will be brief.

Letting out a groan of exasperation, Mason then took a deep breath and held it as long as he could while they made their way down the alley. While passing dumpsters, piles of abandoned junk, back doors, fire escapes, the occasional homeless person and breathing in the continuous aromas of the alley, Mason tripped over something.

Dude, you’re a hunter—gotta be better on your feet, Henry joked.

I’m fine on my feet—I tripped over something. Mason turned on the flashlight on his cell phone and aimed it at his feet. It’s a purse. You think someone was mugged?

Henry picked up the black leather purse and looked through it. The wallet is still here. He opened the coordinating wallet. And there’s still money and credit cards in it.

They both went into action mode, scanning the area, looking for anyone that might be hurt or worse.

Down there, in the dumpster on the left, by the back door of that bagel place. She’s in there, a voice said, from under a shelter of large boxes.

Henry and Mason went over and knelt by the makeshift house.

She who? Mason asked.

A homeless man, who, if he were cleaned up, appeared to be in his late twenties, but in his current state looked much older and haggard, said, I don’t know who she is, I heard screaming and I stuck my head out to see what was going on and saw someone or something. I don’t know, it moved weird and fast. It attacked her and took her by that dumpster. Strange things happen in this alley all the time.

And you didn’t try to help her? Henry asked.

The homeless man pulled his tattered blanket off, revealing that he only had one leg. How? My wheelchair was stolen last week, and social services can’t get me a new one till next week. What was I going to do, hop over there and body slam it? I’m not proud of what I did, but whatever that thing was, scared the hell out of me.

The two hunters, Henry and Mason, nodded in understanding.

Mason reached for his wallet, took out a couple of twenties and handed them to the man. Here you go. Take care of yourself, man.

Henry and Mason stood to leave.

How long ago did this happen? Mason asked.

She’s been down there about an hour—hour and a half, the homeless man assured.

All right then, Mason said, already knowing that whoever the she was, was most likely already dead.

When they got to the dumpster, it was obvious they would have to hoist themselves up to see inside. When the owners of Bagel Bliss dumped their trash, they would have no idea their dumpster was holding more than garbage.

Henry found a crate to stand on to peer inside.

You see her? Mason asked.

Yeah, I see her… Fucking vampires. Henry’s jaw tightened in anger. He had seen many victims of not only vampires, but other supernaturals, and it always fueled him to continue his fight. He hopped down off the crate. Let’s go, we’ve got an asshole to kill. Wiping his fingerprints off the purse and wallet, Mason dropped it into the dumpster so the woman could be identified.

They ran up the stairs to the scarcely furnished, no décor, two bedroom, one and half bath, 7 th floor apartment; this apartment served as a place to crash, not a home. There were six hunters living in the apartment, two to a bedroom with mattresses on the floor, and two in the living room sleeping on the couch and chair with an ottoman. A hunter’s mindset was to protect humans and kill anything supernatural, even if they posed no threat to humans, so comfy accommodations were not on their list of necessities. The only things a hunter needed, were their weapons and a place to sleep; to them, luxuries made you soft and lazy.

Henry and Mason burst through the door alerting everyone inside bringing them into the living room.

Fred, the most seasoned hunter and unofficial leader of the group, turned from the window and asked, What happened? Fred had more fights under his belt than the current lot bouncing off the walls ready to battle. His demeanor, when it came to preparing for a supernatural fight, was calm and purposeful, whereas his fellow hunters were too amped up for his taste.

Henry spoke, Got a victim in the alley over off Benton Avenue, behind Bagel Bliss. A homeless guy said it happened about an hour and a half ago.

All right, let’s get ready. Fred had other plans already formed in his head. He turned to Phoebe, who was on the couch recovering from a broken leg. Call Riz, give him and his crew the lead on the victim behind Bagel Bliss. Phoebe gave a quick nod and got right on task.

Fred turned back to Henry and said, "We are going after those two. Fred pointed out the window to a group of five men. The hunters gathered. The one in the black hoodie and the one in the green T-shirt. Fred did a quick head count, Where is Sam? He needs to get more experience."

Taking a shower, I’ll get him. Kelly said.

Drawing Fred’s attention back to the window, Mason said, I’m thinking dude in the hoodie is a vampire, the other one I don’t know. Hunters weren’t psychic or anything but a very experienced hunter, who had clocked hours of tracking and studying, could begin to see over time, the ever-so-subtle signs of a supernatural creature or just get a vibe that someone wasn’t human.

Yeah, that’s the same read I got about them but something about that vampire is familiar, can't put my thumb on it. Fred said, staring at the guy in the hoodie.

You think you might have fought him before? Mason asked.

Fred cut his eyes and cocked his head at Mason for asking such a question. If I had fought it before, we wouldn’t be watching that thing standing on the street right now.

Agreeing, Mason asked, Any ideas of what the other one might be? Could be human. Maybe he doesn’t know he’s in the presence of a vampire.

Fred shook his head, Nah, don’t know what it is but I’m not getting human for sure.

Doesn’t matter to me what the other one is, if it ain’t human, it’s fair game, Mason stated.

Got that right. Let’s take some heads. Fred was now ready to fight and the vampire and unknown looked to be getting ready to part company with the other three guys.

Before the group of hunters left the apartment, they stood in a circle, balled one hand into a fist, covered it with the other hand, and held it in front of their chest. With bowed heads, closed eyes, and quickly speaking in their own mind, they said a prayer, sang a song, chanted a mantra, told a joke... Whatever they needed to do to get their mind settled to the fact that they may not come home tonight.

The hunters followed the vampire and unknown at a close, but safe, distance right into a vacant warehouse, that they hoped would house a coven of vampires, more to kill. The plan was to split off, in order to come at them from all directions, then corral or corner, then overpower and kill. That was the plan…the hunters were made the moment they stepped onto the street.

Told you those dumbasses would follow us in here. Brandon laughed, as he ducked the swing of an axe being relentlessly wielded toward him by the hunter, Kelly, the blade just shaving the tiny, fine threads of his green T-shirt.

As it were, Henry and Mason lay dead on the floor already. Shawn gutted one of them with his own machete. He gutted him so quickly, the hunter’s eyes were still bugged out in shock as he lay dead in a pool of his own blood on the floor; that same blood was splattered on Shawn’s face and black hoodie. The other hunter met his end by the hands of Brandon, who snapped his neck so quick and easy, that if you had blinked, you’d have missed it.

"Hunters have more brawn than brain, Shawn replied, just as he took a blow to his jaw by the hunter he was now fighting. Rubbing his jaw, he smiled and said, You landed a good one, nice and solid."

The hunter, Fred, feeling confident as ever after his fist contacted Shawn’s jaw, said, "Yeah, it was a nice one, and if you think killing me is going to be easy, then you’re going to be very disappointed." He had also remembered why Shawn looked familiar. Fred had seen Shawn fight and kill, Lucy and Zane, a married hunter couple. They were good friends with Fred, who had been in his own fight, suffered a broken shoulder and was weaponless, so he was unable to help.

I do love a challenge, and I don’t much care for one-sided fights, Shawn said.

It’s your lucky night then. See, now that we’re face-to-face, I know who you are… Popping off like you’re some big badass vampire, not to be fucked with. But I don’t fear you, and I won’t go down like Henry over there. He gestured towards the dead hunter Shawn had killed, and whose insides were still creeping out onto the floor.

I wouldn’t say I’m a big badass vampire, but I would say that people who fuck with me—especially people who are trying to kill me—don’t usually fare too well… I’m just saying. Shawn shrugged.

"Like I said, I don’t fear you, and I don’t give a shit about your body count. You will die tonight. Nothing I like better than taking off the head of a vampire, especially a cocky motherfucker like you." Fred shot back.

You’re a little arrogant yourself…

For fuck’s sake, enough banter ladies, Brandon yelled, while holding the hunter he was fighting in a vice-like headlock. Kill that asshole already, so we can get the hell out of here. Then he broke his second neck for the night, walking off before the body even hit the dusty concrete floor.

You heard my brother, let’s get on with it, Shawn said, readying himself to re-engage.

Don’t care. I’m in no rush, he’s next. Fred replied, getting himself ready for the fight of his life.

Brandon could only laugh at the hunter’s threat, then he leaned against the wall, and took his phone out to find something to watch to pass the time while Shawn fought.

The hunter may have been muscle-bound and skilled, with numerous kills under his belt, but he was no real challenge for Shawn. The realization of this fact caused the hunter to become more and more frustrated. While he was putting forth so much effort in his punches, kicks, and use of weaponry, it was as though Shawn was just toying with him. His one last driving force was that in his peripheral, he could see his three dead friends. The moonlight coming through the numerous broken windows seemed to spotlight the corpses of the dead hunters… he did not intend on ending up like them.

Fred decided his next line of attack would be a roundhouse kick aimed at Shawn’s head, but Shawn reacted too quickly, catching his foot and twisting till the bones could be heard breaking. Fred cried out, stumbling, trying not to fall all the way to the floor and give in to the immense pain and shock of his broken ankle. Once he got his balance, and most of his composure back, he got a good look at Shawn. No longer did he look like the arrogant, smart-mouth vampire. Now, he looked like the deadly vampire that was not to be fucked with, who could truly back up all that arrogance. His eyes had turned silvery black, like metallic pewter, and the blood splattered on his hands, face and shimmering on his clothes from his earlier kill, stood out even more. Plus, he looked seriously pissed off.

Seeing this caused Fred to doubt his ability to kill Shawn, but he swallowed his doubt and the searing ankle pain, reached for his lucky stake, the one he had used to kill many, many vampires before, then took a running, limping leap towards Shawn. When Shawn caught him by the throat and slammed him to the floor, the impact rattled his brain inside his skull and sent his lucky stake skidding across the floor.

Shawn knelt beside the hunter, his hand still around his throat, gradually squeezing it tighter, he leaned in close and said, I seem to remember you saying something about taking my head off…

The hunter grunted out, Fuck you, as he gasped for air, clawing at Shawn’s hand. His eyes bulged, his face was strained and frozen in fear, knowing he was about to die in a most gruesome way.

With his hand still tightly clamped on the hunter’s throat, Shawn made sure to look the hunter in the eye when he spoke, I should have killed you when I killed your two friends that night. The hunter cried out what sounded like a muted gargle.

Blood seeped between Shawn’s fingers, then he felt the hunter’s neck cave inwards like everything inside had turned to gravel. Blood bubbled up and filled the hunter’s mouth as life drained from him.

You done yet? Brandon called to Shawn.

Just about, Shawn said, not taking his eyes off the dying hunter. You know, you’re right, there’s nothing better than taking off someone’s head. Then, with one good hard yank, the hunter’s head was no longer attached to his body. More blood went flying, some landing on Shawn but mostly it was in a spray across the floor.

Shawn stood and dropkicked the hunter’s head across the warehouse.

Brandon came over. Took you long enough.

Took as long as I wanted it to take. Letting those fuckers talk shit before I kill them is part of the fun.

Brandon looked around at the four dead hunters. You notice something?

Scanning the aftermath, Shawn said, No, what?

See how my kills are nice and clean. Broken necks, quick, easy. Now, look at yours, all blood and gore.

Hey, what can I say, I like getting my hands dirty. Let’s go.

As they headed out of the warehouse, Shawn remembered something. Weren’t there five of those bastards?

They both stopped and scanned the warehouse. The other one must be hiding or skipped out. Forget him. Brandon shrugged.

Fuck that, he’s still here. I can smell the stench of fear on him. Shawn closed his eyes and let his senses zero in on the hiding hunter. He found him cowering behind a pile of flattened boxes.

The hunter immediately begged for his life, Oh, shit… Oh, shit… Oh, shit… Please, let me go. You will never see me again, I swear. Hell, I didn’t even want to follow you guys in here…

Regrets, are a bitch, but seriously, don’t be such a fucking coward. Shawn picked the guy up by his shirt.

Pleading, the hunter said, Call me whatever you want, just please don’t kill me.

Brandon had come over now. This is a first. I’ve never heard a hunter beg for their life. They always go down fighting. Looking at the hunter dangling from Shawn’s grasp, practically pissing himself with fear, repulsed Brandon. Dude, do you even have a spine? Out of respect for your friends over there, try to show a little courage. Brandon had no respect for groveling, cowardice behavior.

The hunter dared a look in the direction of his fellow hunters’ lifeless bodies. My friends are dead, he whined.

True, but in our defense, they started it, Shawn said, with a smile and just a bit of hubris, but the smile faded quickly when the continued mewling of the hunter caused Shawn to wonder and ask, What’s your name?

Sam… he continued to whimper.

Okay Sam, I gotta ask, are you sure you’re a hunter?

Yes, but for less than a year. I don’t even have that many kills under my belt.

Shawn shook his head. "But you have killed vampires before, yeah?"

Yeah, but…

Shawn didn’t let Sam explain, he snapped his neck. See, I gotta disagree with you, Brandon, breaking necks is boring. Making them bleed is far better.

Whatever, let’s go. I got a beer, and hopefully a girl, still waiting on me. The two had been on their way to a neighborhood bar.

What girl? Shawn asked, as he took off his blood-covered hoodie, using some of the non-blood-covered areas to wipe the blood off his face, and put on the brown leather jacket of the cowardly dead hunter, discarding the weapons in hidden pockets.

Cassie—the girl that makes coffee at that place, Mattie’s Brewhouse.

Yeah, I remember her. There was always a faint scent of coffee and some sort of fruit-scented shampoo when she was around.

Shawn and Brandon left the mayhem in the warehouse behind them and continued to the bar as if their encounter with the hunters was merely an inconsequential incident.

Barista, Shawn said, as an afterthought.

Barista?

It’s what they call people who make all those coffee drinks.

Brandon nodded. I talked to Christian earlier today, he asked when we were coming out there. I told him in a couple of weeks, but now is as good a time as any. It’s not like we have anything keeping us here.

Trade in New York for Pennsylvania. Why not? Shawn opened the door to the bar where they were greeted by a pretty waitress whose cheeks dimpled when she smiled at Shawn.

Hey, Shawn, she purred. Hey, Brandon.

Emmie, they both said.

Brandon looked around the bar for Cassie.

She’s at the corner table by the jukebox, Emmie said, nodding in the direction of a green-eyed girl, who when she saw Brandon come through the door, could hardly stay in her seat.

See you two later. Brandon headed off in the direction of the corner table.

Emmie handed Shawn the fresh towel she was going to use to wipe down some of the tables. Here, looks like you need this to clean off what I can only assume is hunter blood. Emmie wasn’t a vampire, she was human, but she was a human who in all her twenty-two years had encountered a vampire three times.

The first time, she was ten years old and had gotten separated from her mother at a crowded theatre and found herself in the grasp of a vampire who was about to end her ten-year-old life but was saved by a hunter who had been tracking the vampire. The second time, she was sixteen, on her way home from work at night and taking a shortcut home through a park when she was about to be robbed at gunpoint. Only this time, it was a vampire that saved her. The third time, she was twenty-one years old and closing the bar as a favor to her boss, who left early due to a family emergency. Being alone in the bar while closing made her nervous, so when she spotted Shawn and Brandon in the bar earlier, she asked if they would stay while she finished up. They agreed.

Just after two in the morning, Emmie went to lock the bar door, but someone pushed it open from the other side, effectively moving her out of the way. She told the three already drunk men that the bar was closed, and they needed to leave but they weren’t hearing it. They wanted to keep their beer binge going.

Shawn went to Emmie to see if she was okay, and Brandon told the men they needed to leave. The three of them didn’t listen to Emmie when she told them to leave, and they didn’t intend on listening to Brandon either. Shawn and Brandon looked at each other, silently agreeing on what was about to happen. Shawn told Emmie to get behind the bar and they would handle the situation. Meanwhile, Brandon locked the door, causing confused looks on the three intruders’ faces. One of them immediately pulled a gun and fired at Shawn, catching him in the chest.

Shawn grimaced at the initial shock of the bullet entering his body but then shook it off and said, Just gonna shoot me right out the gate—no build up—no wavering? I get it, it’s cool. Then Shawn made some decisions of his own.

Brandon was already fighting the other two guys and Emmie was peeking over the bar, watching the fights take place.

They were fighting drunken humans so a fight to the death was not necessary, however, the two of them decided to make it last a little longer than needed since the guys busted in the bar causing trouble for Emmie. In the end, Brandon and Shawn dragged the semiconscience men out onto the sidewalk and threatened them, saying that any retribution against the bar or Emmie would end with their death. When they went back inside, Emmie was sitting on the bar waiting. Shawn and Brandon were picking up the knocked over tables and chairs when they noticed Emmie was curiously staring at them.

What’s up? Shawn asked, while Brandon waited on her answer.

Then she point-blank asked, Are you guys vampires? Keep in mind I just saw you take a bullet to the chest.

Their silence, then denial, prompted Emmie to divulge her past encounters with vampires. After about thirty minutes of them denying, and Emmie swearing she would keep their secret, they gave in and admitted the truth, but clarified that Shawn was the vampire and Brandon was a watcher. While the three of them cleaned and closed the bar, they answered Emmie’s numerous questions about their world. They also stressed the importance of her continuing to keep the secret, for which she had no problem doing since she had been keeping it for twelve years already.

Shawn took the towel and said thanks before he left for the restroom.

Emmie said, Come find me when you’re done. Maybe I’ll let you get a closer look at my new tattoo. She gave him another cheek-dimpling smile and pulled down the waistband of her jeans just enough to reveal a blue butterfly tattoo at her waistline.

Shawn smiled at her and said nice before entering the restroom. When he came out, he sat at the bar to keep Emmie company while she poured drinks, and that was the extent of their interaction for the night. Getting to Pennsylvania was the focus of his mind at that moment and every moment until he and Brandon left.

CHAPTER 1

July 12, 2021: Oakwood, Pennsylvania

- Bedroom of Nicole DaPrile -

For the past five nights, Nicole had the same dream, starting with her standing in a hotel hallway with doors on both sides. It reminded her of the kind in a fancy historic hotel.

Hallways, stairways, and locked doors. Is that all there is in this place… I mean what the hell? Nicole said to herself, trying to remain calm, as she rushed down another never-ending corridor. Decorative carpet, sconces, paintings of random landscapes—but there was an absence of elevators and keycard slots to open the doors.

The first night Nicole had this dream, she wasn’t scared, she was curious more than anything else. She strolled the halls and turned the corners only to find more corridors and locked doors. It wasn’t until the second night she had the dream that she turned a corner and found a stairway taking her up. She thought maybe it would lead her to a destination—any destination, but it didn’t. It just led to more of the same. The third night, instead of walking, she ran, trying to cover more territory faster and hopefully find whatever this dream was trying to show her. All she discovered was a stairway going down instead of up. There was something else that unnerved her; she could have sworn she heard a door slam in the distance behind her. It stilled her for a moment, but then she figured it was just her imagination.

The fourth night, things got weird, and her mind wavered between if she was really dreaming or if what was happening was real. She heard more doors slamming and she kept getting the feeling something was following her. Now, it was her fifth night in the hallway, only now uneasiness turned to fear. The door slamming was closer, the creepy presence of whatever was following her felt closer and now the sconces flickered, as if at any moment they would go out and leave her in complete darkness.

Keep it together, don’t fall apart, she told herself. Panicking only makes things worse. Just keep moving and checking the doors. Nicole did just that, not in a full-out run but faster than jogging, only slowing long enough to turn a doorknob. She took a stairway up, expecting to find more of the same but it wasn’t—there were no doorways lining the walls. The only door was at the end of the hall, and from what she could tell, there was no other way to go, no corners to turn.

This is different, she said. Do I want to go down a one-way hall, leading to a possibly locked door with something following me?

Then a door slammed that sounded so close it made her jump. That answers my question. Nicole took off down the doorless corridor as fast as the adrenaline surge and her feet could carry her. To add to the horror, each sconce she passed flickered out completely, leaving it pitch black behind her.

Just as she reached the door, that she prayed was unlocked, she dared a look back and could see something moving towards her in the darkness. Nicole’s heartbeat was deafening in her ears, and she felt like she was losing her breath. So much for not letting panic set in. Then she heard it. Click. The door was unlocked. The relief she felt was briefly interrupted by the thought of whatever was behind this door could be worse than the dark thing quickly coming up behind her. The vibe she was getting from the mystery dark thing was bad, so whatever was behind the door was worth the risk. She flung open the door and bolted through it, but not before feeling whatever was in the darkness graze her shoulder, attempting to pull her back inside. She screamed at the coldness of its touch but there was something else adding to the shock of what was happening… She heard a woman’s voice cheerfully exclaiming, Happy birthday. She recognized the voice to be that of her mother but couldn’t tell if her mother was part of the dream, or if she