Something Wicked

By Jenika Snow

Being wicked never felt so good...

Born from hate and violence, Lathan knows all too well what darkness feels like. He's centuries old, and an abomination to the supernatural world. With a vampire father who forcibly took Lathan's werewolf mother as his own, Lathan's hybrid genetics make him feared by all.

Abbi has no one and nothing of importance in her life, but that doesn't stop her from living. When Lathan feeds on her and tries to use compulsion to make her forget, she realizes he isn't just a vampire, but something altogether different. He's also her mate.

This is a previously published work. It has been revised and edited for Evernight Publishing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight Publishing
• Release date: Mar 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781773392226

Book preview

Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2017 Jenika Snow

ISBN: 978-1-77339-222-6

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Audrey Bobak

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

SOMETHING WICKED

Romance on the Go ®

Jenika Snow

Copyright © 2017

Chapter One

Lathan was born of this world in blood, hatred … violence. He took his first breath with his mother’s arms around him, her tears of sadness, hurt, disgust, filling him. It was the only world, the only emotions he’d ever known. And it was that memory, even as he lay there vulnerable—unable to speak, barely able to breathe—when he watched his mother pass. It was a curse being able to remember every single memory of his life, a gift because of his hybrid breed, his dual species genetics.

He stood in the shadows, his hunger insatiable. He watched the humans, knew their blood—the sustenance, which gave him life, gave him strength and power—was also the same viscous fluid that disgusted him.

He was half vampire, half werewolf, a demon among his kind, an abomination because of the two bloodlines running through his veins and of how he came into this world. His werewolf mother was kidnapped and raped by his vampire father, a male who claimed she was his mate. But Lathan’s father hadn’t cared about anyone but himself. He’d defiled the one woman who was claimed to be his mate, took her from Lathan because he was a selfish bastard.

It was because of his father he didn’t have a memory untainted with violence and degradation. It was because of his father, Karloff, that Lathan couldn’t show his face in the paranormal community without fear and disgust following him, because everyone knew who he was. The stench of his father’s blood ran through his veins, marking him, marking him as evil. Karloff’s reputation was by far the most sinister of their kind, was tarnished and corroded with the horror of the life he led and of the lives he took.

Maybe Lathan should have had more empathy for the man who sired him, the man who forced his seed upon Lathan’s unwilling mother. But the truth was after three hundred years of living in this world alone, Lathan had no empathy for anyone or anything. He had no emotions, no expectations, or even hope he’d find a mate, if one even existed.

But he’d killed his father a century ago. He’d ripped open his throat, bathed in his blood. Lathan knew killing the man who had raped Lathan’s mother, took from her everything she loved, was a small act of vengeance on his part. It wouldn’t solve anything, wouldn’t make anyone see him as anything more than a monster, but it had Lathan feeling a little less dark inside.

He moved back into the shadows even further when a young, beautiful, and unsuspecting woman started walking toward him. She was human, with long reddish-brown hair and eyes the color of the greenest emerald. She was slender, couldn’t be more than in her twenties, and the animal in him—the wolf, the demon he was—rose up. He needed to taste her, wanted her blood to coat his tongue and move along the back of his throat. He’d never been this thirsty before.

But it could be because he’d held off feeding for the last couple weeks, hating to taste the metallic flavor of the substance that gave him life. Lathan desired her blood, needed it covering his mouth and dripping down his chin.

His vampire side felt the call of the blood, felt the power move through him. His muscles coiled tightly. His body was preparing itself, readying to snatch her body to his, tilt her neck to the side, and expose the creamy expanse of her throat.

And then