Potions and Punishments (Prisoners of Nightstone Book 1) Read online

  POTIONS AND PUNISHMENTS

  PRISONERS OF NIGHTSTONE BOOK ONE

  HELEN SCOTT

  MAY DAWSON

  Potions and Punishments

  Prisoners of Nightstone Book One

  © 2020 Helen Scott and May Dawson

  Cover by Dark Imaginarium Art & Design

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the brief use of quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction and is intended for adults only. The sexual activities represented in this book area work of fiction intended for adults. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  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

  A Note from May

  Also by May Dawson

  About the Author

  Also by Helen Scott

  About the Author

  1

  Nasima

  I stumbled out of the bar, my feet tripping over one another as blood ran down my face. Not my best look. It certainly didn't help when one of the bouncers at the back door tripped me on the way out, sending me sprawling into the mud and oil-slicked water that ran along the alley at the back of the bar. Lovely.

  The mid-afternoon sun hit me like a ton of bricks, reminding me of just how long I'd been inside. Vampire bars were never good at showing the passage of time. One song bled into another; there were no windows, no clocks, no closing times, just one unending party. Necropolis was not a place for the faint of heart or the weak of liver.

  It was rare for humans to venture in there since it was a well-known vamp bar, but there were some that couldn't resist walking on the wild side. Ones that still clung to the old romanticized notions of vamps feeding from them in a sexual frenzy and turning them because they couldn't live without them, blah, blah, blah. No vamp in his or her right mind would ever turn a human to be anything more than a slave or blood whore. Their society was much too pretentious for that.

  I pushed myself up out of the dirt and dug around in my purse for a vial of my healing potion, one of the only things I carried with me regardless of what the law demanded. The gash on my thigh was the worst of my injuries and needed the most attention, after that was my nose, which was probably broken. Why did I think I could get away with doing palm and tarot readings in a vamp club without their permission? Why? Ugh. Vamp drinks made me do stupid things. Always, without fail.

  I just needed to get up enough cash to blow this town before Bane found me again. That bounty hunter always turned up when he was least wanted. Although a roll in the sack with him was never a disappointment. The man gave orgasms like they were free samples and he was a salesman. My core clenched just at the thought of it. Maybe I should hang out a little longer, let him catch up.

  Before I could let my mind wander too far off-topic and get myself all worked up in the back alley behind a bar, I smashed the vial against my leg. Purpley-pink fog shimmered in the light as it went to work on my wounds. Most of it was directed to my thigh, which was why I broke it there, but a tendril of the smoke wove its way up to my nose. As it tickled its way inside, I could feel it repairing the broken blood vessels and realigning the bones until it was like the whole thing had never happened. That wasn't to say it was a comfortable and painless process, but it didn't hurt as much as having my nose broken and my leg stabbed in the first place.

  I straightened and ran a hand through my hair, forgetting that I'd chopped most of it off a few days ago. I was startled at the lack of hair past my shoulders.

  But my hair wasn't nearly as startling as the police lights that flickered on at the end of the alley.

  "Fuck," I muttered, debating for a split second before I took off running in the opposite direction.

  The car began to roll after me and whoop-whooped its siren a couple of times, which I was sure gave more than one person hiding in the shadows a small heart attack, but the cops weren't interested in them, oh no, if they knew who I was, then they'd be heroes for bringing me in. I was a pro at evading cops, leaving them in embarrassing situations that they had to explain to their superiors. That was why Bane was hunting me, after all.

  I snagged the edge of a fire escape at the back of some building, not that I had any idea what it was, and swung myself up onto the ladder before sprinting up the stairs. When I made it halfway up without feeling out of breath, I was pleasantly surprised. The sprinting drills I'd been forcing myself to do were paying off after all.

  I glanced below and saw two officers climbing after me. They had Black Guard patches on their normal uniforms which meant that they were authorized to bring me, and any other supernatural, in if they caught me. Easy solution. Don't let them catch me.

  By the time I was launching myself over the top of the ladder and onto the roof, I could hear staticky voices coming through on their radios. If I wasn't mistaken I caught the words "confirmed sighting" and "do not engage". What, like I was dangerous or something? The only reason I was on the run was because of the stupid laws about not being able to use magic outside our homes. Humans didn't want to see it because it was so scary. Supernaturals were the boogeymen men and women that had been living among them all this time without them knowing. Now they did, had for a while in fact, but the thing about fear is it feeds on itself. The more scared they were, the more scared they became.

  Fear had changed us, supernaturals and humans alike, but in that moment I was only focused on the fear of jumping between buildings. I knew if I slowed, if I hesitated at all that I would fall and if I fell then I would most likely die, and if not then I may as well have. Instead of slowing, instead of pausing and questioning what I was about to do, I put on a burst of speed. I looked at nothing but the edges of the buildings, calculating when to jump, when was the last possible moment I could push off in hopes of making the landing on the other side.

  I heard them call out behind me, yelling at me to stop or they would shoot, but if I paid them any mind then I would fall to my death as my foot pushed off the ledge with all my might and my body launched into the air. My heart seemed to freeze in my chest and it almost felt like time slowed down, but I knew that was just a trick in my mind, not an actual casting, I wasn't talented in time manipulation as a witch. Hell, I wasn't talented in much when it came to being a witch, which was partially why my coven had kicked me out. Not worth the risk to them when I was wanted and hunted by Bane.

  When my feet crunched on the gravel of the other rooftop I wanted to smile but I didn't h
ave time, I knew I had to keep moving so I softened the landing with a roll, and when I picked myself back up I kept moving. A quick glance over my shoulder told me exactly what I thought it would. The two members of the Black Guard were still stuck on the other rooftop, not willing to take the risk of the jump like I did. Jerks probably had families at home waiting for them.

  Now was the time to truly lose them though, I ran behind the air conditioning units and rooftop access points, obscuring myself as much as I could before I took yet another leap of faith to another rooftop. The more I put between the Black Guards and myself the happier I was. I needed to get off the roof and disappear though the faster I could do that the faster I could get home, well, to the place I was currently calling home. The next door I found I kicked open, and I definitely didn't use a spell to enhance my strength a little bit, nope, not me, the law abiding witch.

  I made my way down the stairs and through the rest of the building before calming myself down so I could head out onto the street. It was hard not to look suspicious when you were being hunted like an animal, but that's what I had to do. I needed to blend, be chill, and definitely not be looking over my shoulder every two seconds waiting for a Black Guard to jump out from the next doorway and yell, "Ha ha! Caught you!"

  After running my fingers through my hair a few times and straightening my clothes, rubbing the gravel dust off them at the same time, I opened the door and walked out. My heart was pounding in my throat the whole time as I tried to just meander down the street. After I had made it a couple blocks, I actually felt relaxed enough to hail a cab.

  Ten minutes later and another couple blocks of walking, never have a cabbie drop you at your actual location if you're on the run, that's like rule number three, I was home. As soon as the door was closed behind my back I let out the groan I'd been holding in. I rubbed all the sore points on my body from jumping and rolling on gravel, getting stabbed in the leg, breaking my nose, and almost losing my grip on the fire escape at one point. I just relaxed and let it all go.

  As I stood there, letting all the stress release, a quiet hissing noise caught my ear. My brain kicked on and I remembered I'd put a set of repression potions in the pressure cooker before I left. I could feel the one I had taken yesterday starting to wear off, almost like a hangover coming on. I hoped this batch wasn't ruined by my absent mindedness. They were a pain in the ass to make which was why I did them in batches and since I was a modern witch and wasn't about to stand over a cauldron and cook it for almost a whole day I used a pressure cooker. The only problem was that sometimes I forgot what I was doing.

  I had only meant to go to Necropolis for a couple hours, just to get enough money to get a bus ticket out of town, since I had been here long enough for Bane to potentially get word of someone matching my description being around. My memory reminded me of the Black Guards that had chased me, and I knew if I didn't get out now then I would be facing off with the hunter himself. What I wasn't sure of was whether or not that was something I was opposed to, because if Bane didn't know I was here before, he certainly would now.

  2

  Bane

  My phone vibrated faintly in my jacket, and I touched my earpiece, switching it over. I had a bug planted on the guys I was bringing in. They weren’t exactly fascinating conversationalists, though. “Yeah?”

  “You ready for another date with your girl?” Jake asked in his Scottish accent.

  Nasima. I knew exactly who he meant, even though I said, “Not my girl.”

  Jake snorted. “Seems like she must be, or you’d manage to bring her in.”

  “She’s slippery.” The memory of her eyes flashing up at me, a mischievous smile curving her lips, rose like a ghost. “I’d like to see you try. If you ever leave that desk.”

  “Hey, you’d be lost without me,” Jake said.

  I always meant to bring her in. But part of me liked that as long as Nasima was free, there was always a new round of our cat-and-mouse game around the corner, the promise of another chance to pin her against a wall… and then kiss her.

  We had a more complicated relationship than the usual bounty-hunter-and-wanted-criminal, that was for certain.

  A car pulled down the gritty street in front of me, headed for the building I was watching. I studied the driver. The car was a new make, new model. There were two men in the front seats, but there was nothing to indicate it was the same old shithead driving the car.

  And yet, for some reason, I was sure it was, no matter how he’d styled his hair or used magic to alter his face.

  “Got to go,” I told Jake. “Send me her last coordinates. I’ll make her my next stop.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  I shook my head in exasperation before I cut the call. The only thing worse than Jake’s accusations was that I knew he echoed what everyone else thought. One thing endangered my reputation in the bounty hunter community--and with the feds: how often I let Nasima slip through my grip. I didn’t know how she always broke loose of her cuffs.

  If she’d been another asshole like this guy, I’d just have knocked her out. No one escapes when they’re unconscious. But the thought of hurting Nasima sent a flare of anger through my chest.

  Luckily, I had something to do with that anger at the moment.

  I headed around the building just as the door to the private garage underneath rumbled to life. Their car nosed in as soon as the door opened. I kept heading around, to the window I’d jimmied open earlier. It was narrow, but I slipped inside, wiggling my big shoulders to get them to fit, then dropped to the concrete floor. I landed silently, then moved quietly behind the cars.

  Their black car moved past me. I had to verify their identity before I brought them in.

  Then the two of them popped open the trunk and lifted out a terrified young woman, who was bound and gagged.

  Definitely had the right guys.

  She made desperate noises around the gag, thrashing around. “No one can hear you, and even if they did, no one around here cares,” one of them warned her.

  The girls they were using could never go to the cops. They were desperate women who paid these men to smuggle them out of the country because they were already wanted for magic use, and then they’d gotten a whole more than they bargained for. She must have tried to get away, only to be caught all over again.

  Hopefully, they’d led me right to all their girls, as planned.

  I’d hoped to take them out alone, down here, with no innocent bystanders at risk. But this was probably the best chance I’d get.

  I burst out from behind the car.

  They dropped the girl on the ground, her head and shoulders hitting first--sorry--as they grabbed for their guns.

  I jumped over her and slammed feet-first into the first one’s chest. He stumbled back, the gun flying from his hand. The other guy fired the gun wildly and the bullet blasted into the ceiling, echoing through the garage.

  I grabbed his hand, controlling the gun.

  He dropped the gun, reaching to catch it with his other hand, but I was faster. I caught the gun in one hand, then whirled and elbowed him in the face. There was a sickening crunch, and he went down.

  Panicked, the girl squirmed away across the ground, trying to get underneath one of the cars.

  The first guy was starting to get back up. Still bent over, he rushed for the gun.

  I kicked him in the face, and he fell back. Then I scooped down and picked up the fallen gun.

  “You made the girls change your faces, hm?” I asked the first bleeding man as I flipped him over, ignoring his groans, and put the cuffs on him. “I’ll have to apologize to them for ruining their handiwork.”

  I snapped cuffs on the second, then called Jake back. “I’ve got some folks to bring in.”

  “You’re remarkably productive when it’s not a pretty woman on your wanted list.”

  “This again? Give me five.” I crouched in front of one of the cars as I cut contact with Jake. The bound woman h
ad managed to wiggle underneath. Her eyes were wide and terrified.

  “I’m here to help,” I told her. “Can I get you out of here?”

  As soon as she’d rolled and I’d help draw her out from beneath the car, I pushed the gag down from her mouth, then reached for my knife to cut her bonds. “Are your friends upstairs?”

  She nodded. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she started crying again, tears streaking down her blotchy cheeks. She looked like a young teenager. I wondered what kind of magic she’d used to be wanted already.

  “It’s all right,” I told her, my voice soothing. She kept staring at the knife until I cut her bonds loose. “You were quick-thinking back there. Fought back, then found your way to safety even tied up. You’ll come out on top in the long run.”

  All she needed was a little help in the right direction.

  She leaned to one side to look at the bloodied men behind me, then pressed her trembling hand over her mouth. She was still so terrified of them.

  “No one’s ever going to hurt you again,” I promised her. I stood and offered her my hand. “You want to kick them on your way to help me rescue the others?”

  Her legs were shaking, but she still uncurled like an unsteady fawn and took my hand. I helped her stand to her feet, then caught her when she swayed. I wondered how long she’d been in that trunk.

  “Let’s go get them,” she said, her voice coming out ragged.

  Together, the two of us headed up to free the other girls.

  3

  Nasima

  When I went to the bus station I knew the likelihood of being able to get a ticket was low. The woman behind the counter saw me approaching with my measly rolling carry on and hand bag and rolled her eyes at me before sliding the glasses that were on a bejeweled chain up her nose. As soon as her gaze flicked over me again I saw recognition flash in her eyes, and she tapped at a sign that was taped to the inside of the window that surrounded her booth which read, "Supes use kiosks only.”