Shapeshifter, Scorpion: Desires of Blood, #4

By Ethan Radcliff

Magenta is a child of blood. Her giver of life, Royce Bellamy, is a vampire. She's never felt comfortable in the twenty-first century. She decides to hone her witchcraft and play with the timeline—big mistake.

Hugo Mendez is the top matador in eighteenth-century Madrid, Spain. He hides a dark foreboding secret. He sees the beautiful Magenta and is drawn to her, sensing there's more to the perfect beauty than most can see. The beast within him haunts him night and day. Will he be able to capture the beauty's heart? Scorpion is book four in the series Desires of Blood: A Legend of Love and Desire.

****Adult content, graphic sex, hot vampires, shifters, werewolves and witches*****

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bitten Press LLC
• Release date: Feb 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533754110

Ethan Radcliff

BIO: My name is Ethan Radcliff and I've been writing since I was a kid. I love creating and tried my hand at art, not bad, but not good enough. A guy's gotta eat. Through high school, I wrote erotic stories, kept them in a notebook and let a few girlfriends read them. I played football, baseball and ice hockey, but my brain never stopped thinking of sex. I guess most guys think about it all the time. I decided to put my thoughts into prose. I had been on face book for a while and never did anything interesting until I started to see all the writers. What really caught my attention were the poets, especially some of the ones posting erotic prose.  I was intrigued, men who were writing erotic romance, I knew it was time to get out the old notebook and throw on some poetry. I was surprised at the response. I’ve often been asked what inspires my writing. Sometimes it’s a photograph, a sunset or an attractive woman. The jiggle of a full ass or heavy breasts will set my mind in motion. Sometimes, out of nowhere, an idea will come to mind. I record and write down my thoughts constantly. I want to thank Bitten Press and the two lovely ladies who run it for encouraging me to go for it and I did. I also need to thank a very patient and lovely friend Kendall Blackburn Barnett who is my PA and putting up with my antics. I want to thank all the wonderful people who read what I write. And the lovely ladies who help get the word out there about my writing. As you know, I’m an elusive fellow, smiles, perhaps that’s part of my charm. Who knows what the future holds? My first short story is The Taming of Molly Jenkins. It’s hot. Is it based on personal experience? Don't we all pull from real life? The next short story is The Wait, Brit’s undoing...that I hope you'll enjoy. Since those early works, many more have evolved including a paranormal series, Desires of Blood, DOM, The Collaring of Molly Jenkins and my first novel A Man of Honor.  Two thousand and sixteen brings more full-length novels and I will always venture into new erotic genres. Thank you for listening and to all those who are enjoying my poetry, thank you. Ethan Radcliff

Book preview

Chapter One

Spain eighteen hundred and forty-six

Hugo watched El Toro snort as the large bull kicked around the sand beneath his hooves, causing clouds of dust to swirl in the air. The animal was raging, but Hugo taunted the bull still, waving his red cape in the air. Come here to your master, he yelled. The bull had Hugo in his sights.

Yes! Hugo screamed. To me, to me; meet your maker!

Suddenly Hugo bent over in searing pain. A bone cracked in his wrist. Fuck, his mind screamed. Hugo was going to shift. How could this be happening?

Hugo thought he’d mastered and controlled his inner beast. Hugo scanned the crowd, hoping to distract his brain and stop his body from shifting. Then his mind turned to the bull that would soon be running towards him.

Fuck he had to stop his body from changing. Hugo tried to focus, but his vision had begun to fail. Heat rose within him, allowing his bones to yield and crack as they took on his other form. The pain intensified. Hugo had to fight against the urge to shift.

In agony and looking for relief, Hugo’s eyes scanned the crowd once more. In one of the expensive boxes, his eyes settled on a beautiful woman staring down at him. She raised her hand. Cool air enveloped him, bringing down his body temperature and stopping the urge to shift.

Hugo blinked, grateful for the easing of his pain. He nodded, looking up to her, and she smiled down at him. For a fraction of a second, he swore he saw the glisten of a fang in her smile. If so, then she was no human female; she was more. Hugo bowed briefly in her direction; however, it was too late. El Toro was upon him.

The crowd roared in anticipation, but the bull never stood a chance. Hugo’s skills and powers had increased tenfold since he’d met up with Darita, the beautiful witch in his life.

One foot to the left, and Hugo was out of the bull’s line of fire. As easy as slicing through soft butter, his spears ripped through and landed on the bull’s back. Each one made its mark, slowing the animal down. There was no doubt he was the victor once again. Spain had never seen a Matador compared to the likes of Hugo Mendez. He waved his cape through the air and bowed. Roses flew from the stands, littering the dirt in the arena, and the crowd chanted, ‘Mendez ... Mendez’.

Hugo scanned the stands for the beauty he’d locked eyes with only moments before. She was nowhere to be found. He focused and found her. She stopped, turned, and smiled, and Hugo mouthed to her, "lady, please, my dressing room.’ Then bowed. He picked up a few of the roses that were scattered, nearly covering the dirt, which the crowd had thrown into the arena.

Next, they began waving small white flags and handkerchiefs, requesting a trophy for the victorious Matador. The residing president lifted the silver chalice and showed it to the crowd. Cheers roared through the arena.

Hugo accepted his prize, bowed to the crowd, and headed for the entrance leading to the arena’s dressing room. Utmost on his mind was the woman he’d just asked to meet him. He had enough trophies to last a lifetime, and he wondered would she accept his invitation?

A twinge of anxiety radiated across his chest. How was he going to get rid of Darita? The fucking witch had been driving him crazy. Her insatiable nature was boring him. All Darita wanted from him was a bed partner, a toy, one she could hold by the strings and make to do her bidding. Hugo wanted more, but as hard as he tried, he felt nothing more than lust for the witch. Yet, he had no choice but to entertain Darita since she had placed the curse on him for his constant indiscretions. Hugo wanted her to lift the curse that kept him tied to her. He wanted his freedom and wanted to stop what Darita had done to him.

Catching him fucking yet another, Darita was seething with anger. She shackled him to the cold stone wall of her dungeon like an animal and left him there for days. Then her threats became a reality. Hugo had few fears, except for his fear of scorpions. He hated the creatures, and Darita found a weakness. So she threatened Hugo. I will make you live your worst nightmare. I’ll turn your cheating ass into a scorpion!

Weak and disgusted, Hugo laughed.

Darita had enough of his infidelity, and she cursed him.

Now when he vents his anger or fears death, he becomes the very creature he fears the most: a giant black scorpion. It’s no easy feat, for each bone must crack to accomplish his shift, and the pain is insufferable. As Hugo’s skin hardens to the exoskeleton of the creature, the agony sometimes is unbearable. He begged Darita for days for her forgiveness, and then finally, she released him, promising to remove the curse if he stopped his cheating ways. That was three years ago.

The bitch held the curse over his head. Hugo was still fighting the scorpion’s curse.

He hurried through the narrow corridor, trying to get to his dressing room before he had to confront Darita. When he opened the door, Darita was there, waiting like a spider for her prey.

How magnificent you are, Hugo. That bull never stood a chance.

Thank you. He pushed past her. She followed him.

I’ve missed you. I require your presence tonight.

I’m busy.

She opened her fan and waved it furiously. "You’re busy? Hugo, do you like your other self? You must because nothing has changed in years. You’re still a snake. My dear, you will do my bidding tonight regardless of your other plans."

Darita, I told you I’m busy. I’ve also learned some control.

She snapped her fan closed. Really, like before in the arena? I saw you. You were fighting desperately not to shift. Did I imagine that someone came to your rescue?

Excuse me, a soft female voice said from the doorway. Is this Hugo Mendez’s dressing room? Magenta stood in the doorway, her blonde beauty dazzling.

Hugo spun around. Yes, dear lady, he said and bowed. He faced Darita. As I said, I’m busy tonight, but thank you for the generous invitation. He bowed.

She shot him a venomous sneer. Darita was a very powerful and astute witch. Hugo surmised she knew immediately the young woman standing in the doorway was far more than met the eye. She opened her fan and turned to face Magenta. Good evening. Then she pulled up her long satin skirts and left. He knew there would be retaliation.

Hugo watched the beautiful woman standing in the doorway scan Darita as she left. He watched her carefully. There was something very different about her, and he had his suspicions.

She stopped before him, smiled warmly, and then spoke. I see you keep unusual company, Senor. A witch?

Hugo took in her beautiful porcelain-like face and her full red lips.  He couldn’t quite decide the color of her eyes because they glittered like spun gold. He moved closer to her because he’d seen more when she smiled at him from the stands.

Senorita, I’m your servant. He bowed. Witch? Yes, Darita can be a witch at times, he said with a bit of irony in his voice.

Is she your wife?

No, only a very close friend.

She snapped open her fan and waved it at her face. You’re excellent, Matador; Hugo, and a one of a kind, one who uses witchcraft to fight the bulls.

His lips broke into a broad grin. Oh, she was more than met the eye. I commend you. How did you know?

I have a second sense. I can smell a witch a mile away, and you have an aura about you. Of course, humans can’t see the light which follows you.

Humans? A second sense? You are not human. What are you, dear lady?

Smiling, she exposed her long pointy eyeteeth. I’m a vampire.

Hugo didn’t flick an eyelash. He knew he’d seen the glisten of one fang from the arena. He was, after all, fucking a witch.

Because Darita was obsessed with Hugo, she’d gifted him with a spell to improve his skills as Matador. With the spell came the ability to see beyond this world and a heightened sense of the paranormal

To add fuel to the fire, he’d been with more than one gorgeous vampire. And each time Darita sensed his infidelity, she threatened never to remove the curse.

She’d screamed, You’re despicable! I give you a gift, and you betray me constantly. Beware, Hugo, one day I’ll take back what I’ve given you.

He’d reached for her. And give up what I can give you? My beautiful witch, I will kneel at your feet, spread your soft silky thighs, and pleasure you beyond your wildest dreams. My tongue can bring out such need in you. I feel your cunt juices on my tongue as your pleasure increases, and orgasm overcomes you. You’d give that all up because I like diversity? You are still the only beauty I kneel for and beg forgiveness. I’m your servant, Darita.

Hugo always won. Darita would then push his face between her thighs, cumming countless times before she let him fuck her. Each time she caught him, it would end the same; her forgiving him and him spending days in bed pleasuring her.

He had a weakness for beauty. Since he’d learned that supernatural powers were no myth, he was like a moth to a flame. He could sense the differences, and the beautiful woman in the audience was special, and he’d sensed it immediately.

She could give him immortality, but would she? What would happen once he got her into his bed? After seeing her up close, he didn’t care; all he knew was that he wanted her.

You’re a very beautiful woman. He undid his short bolero jacket and peeled it off. He knew what women wanted, and he delivered. He watched her eyes rake over him.

I’ve come to see you as you asked. I see what you have to offer, Matador, and I’m impressed. However, I’m not interested. Besides, I have no time to deal with a jealous witch. They’re trouble, and I have enough trouble of my own. She turned to leave.

Wait, he pleaded. I saw your fangs in the arena. You won’t be the first vampire I’ve fucked. Perhaps I can take you out to dinner? Maybe we can begin again and get off to a better start?

She waved her fan at him. Thank you but being here with you and seeing your witch reminded me of my cross to bear. His name is Grayson. She curtsied. Senor. Then turned to go.

Please don’t leave.

Magenta spun around and gave Hugo a cold stare. Walking toward him, she took in his scent. How sweet you smell. Her fingers touched his face. You’re nice to look at, Hugo. Very nice. I won’t deny I want your blood and sex, but I promise nothing in return. So if you think I’ll turn you, you’re very much mistaken. We’ll have one night and nothing more.

I’ll take one night, he said, bringing the palm of her hand to his lips.

My name’s Magenta. With her free hand, she handed him a piece of parchment paper. Meet me here tonight at midnight. I’ll understand if you don’t show up. Tonight, my hunger will need to be appeased. If you come, it’s your blood I will feast on. She gave him a small curtsey.

He moved quickly and placed a hand on her slender neck. You will feast on me and me on you. Make no mistake about that, my pretty Magenta.

She