Burned Read online

  Burned

  (World of Shadows Book One)

  KENSIE KING

  Burned

  Copyright © 2020 by Kensie King

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  SUMMARY

  I thought witches were just a myth until I found out I was one…

  Lincoln Powers has always been a little different. For one, he can set fires with his hands. Now he’s seeking answers about his new powers, and when he gets an anonymous message to come to the small town of Knob Creek, he thinks those answers are within his grasp. Until he meets two dangerous paranormals who hold the key to his past. Until he discovers an old spell that ties them all together and keeps him trapped in the boundaries of town until it’s broken.

  Before he knows it, he’s falling for both men but one of them isn’t telling the truth. Gage is a drop-dead gorgeous vampire who’s dangerous and determined to get Link to break the spell. Shapeshifter Dylan will do anything he can to protect Link from Gage—and to stop that spell from ever being broken. Link is torn. Does he keep the spell intact and save his new friends and the town or end the spell and get all the answers he’s been seeking?

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Summary

  Newsletter Signup

  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

  Sneak Peek of Bound: World of Shadows Book Two

  NEWSLETTER SIGNUP

  For all the most up-to-date news about my books, visit me on Goodreads, or sign up for my newsletter. No unsolicited spam, just updates on new releases and discounts on my books!

  CHAPTER 1

  The note was burning a hole in my pocket, giving me the courage to get out of the car. I’d memorized the short message, one which arrived in an unmarked envelope at my house last week.

  The answers you are looking for are in Knob Creek.

  That simple.

  But someone knew I was looking for answers, and that someone had to be my mom. She lived in Knob Creek—had her whole life.

  I frowned. And clearly, she had a flair for the dramatic.

  The answers you are looking for…

  Hell yeah, I was looking for answers. I wanted to know why I’d dreamed about my father’s death one short week before it happened. I wanted to know why things caught on fire when I was upset.

  Up ahead, the house was in the shadows, looking almost abandoned. There weren’t any lights on inside or out, and from what I could see of it from the low glow of the moon, it looked neglected.

  I walked back to the car and grabbed a flashlight from the glove compartment. My grip was tight on the cold metal as I walked up the porch steps, my boots thudding against the wood. Even though I didn’t think anyone would answer, I banged on the front door.

  My jaw clenched. Why the hell would my mom tell me to come here if she wasn’t even home?

  I used the sleeve of my shirt to rub at the film on the window, muttering under my breath.

  My mom probably told me to come here because she was off her rocker. At least that was what my father had always said. No, actually, the specific word was “unstable.”

  But he’d made it clear he thought there was more. I mean, she had claimed she could see ghosts and make magic with a flick of her hand.

  My mind went back to the fire I’d caused in my dorm room the last semester in college, and I swallowed hard. No, that wasn’t the same thing.

  That was… I had no clue.

  “She’s not home.”

  I whipped around, clenching the flashlight tight in my grip.

  A man stood there, tall and serious, eyes glinting in the moonlight. His T-shirt hugged pecks and biceps I imagined didn’t come easy and made my mouth water just slightly.

  A ridiculous reaction considering I had to clue who he was, and it probably looked like I was trespassing.

  “I didn’t hear you,” I told him, relaxing a little when he shoved his hands in his pockets—not the most menacing pose. “Where did you come from?”

  He jerked his chin to the house next door. I could see lights in windows through overgrown hedges that looked straight out of a horror movie.

  “I’m Dylan—Helen’s neighbor.”

  He hiked the steps two at a time and held out a hand. After a moment of indecision, I closed the distance and took his hand. His grip was strong and warm, and I relaxed another notch when a dimple appeared in his cheek.

  “Can I help you with something?” he asked.

  I aimed the light from the flashlight at the ground so it wouldn’t blind either of us. “I’m Link—Lincoln Powers. Helen’s son.”

  His jaw flexed, and something flickered in his gaze—something unwelcoming that set me on edge. “Like I said, she’s not home. And doesn’t plan on being back for a while.”

  I tilted the flashlight back up, defiantly shining it closer to his face. “How long is a while?”

  “I’d say a lot longer than you want to wait.” His eyebrows lifted. “You should go home.”

  Struck speechless by surprise and his rudeness, I watched as he started to turn, and then blurted, “Why would I do that when she asked me to come?”

  He stopped on the edge of the top stair and then looked over his shoulder. “She asked you to come?” When I nodded, his eyes narrowed. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  Which was a big fat lie. I wasn’t asked so much as summoned, and if it had been my mom, off her rocker or not, she probably wouldn’t have been so mysterious about it. Right? Fuck. I didn’t know now. I’d been foolish to assume she was the one who sent me the note, but it was the most logical conclusion.

  Dylan turned back, his eyes full on my face. He couldn’t have been more than a few years older than me, mid-twenties most likely, but his gaze held secrets, flickers of experience that suggested he’d seen a lot in his life. He stepped closer, towering over me even when I straightened. “You sure she was the one who told you to come?”

  I frowned. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

  He eyed my death grip on the metal flashlight and the corner of his mouth crooked. “You going to hit me with that?”

  “Do I need to?”

  The dimple appeared again, just briefly. “So, listen, don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t want to wait here for your mom. It’s better if you go back home.”

  “How would I not take that the wrong way?” I shook my head. This was useless—we were clearly on separate pages. I turned back to the door and grabbed the handle. “Why don’t you just leave me alone?”

  He didn’t answer. And when I glanced back, my jaw dropped. What the hell?

  I walked to the edge of the porch but di
dn’t see him anywhere. Like he’d vanished into thin air. “What the hell?” I whispered.

  I hadn’t even heard him move. And what did he do? Dive through the bushes?

  A chill worked its way up my spine. Nice neighbors my mom had.

  Blowing out a breath, I walked back to the door and tried the handle. To my surprise, it opened.

  Dark furniture from what was probably a living room loomed before me, but I hesitated on the precipice. I’d never seen my mom’s house before. She’d left a long time ago, when I was barely seven, and I hardly remembered her. After that, I’d never heard from her again.

  The only reason I knew where she lived was because I’d looked her up after my father died. I thought she might want to know the news. But then I figured if she wanted anything to do with him or me, she wouldn’t have left in the first place.

  I’d almost forgotten about her again when I got the letter about coming to Knob Creek.

  I shone the flashlight inside, moving it over the furniture. The floors and surfaces looked dusty like no one had been in here in weeks. The dust tickled my nose, but I stepped inside. Just as far as the living room.

  On a nearby end table, I spotted an open book with brittle pages. I flipped it to the cover and blinked when I saw a pentagram. Inside, the pages were covered in sketches and what looked suspiciously like hexes and spells.

  Well…if I couldn’t get answers from my mom, maybe I’d get answers from her house. I knew from another of my brief searches about the town that it was rich in history, brimming with myths about supernatural and paranormal activity.

  Which as of late seemed to be right up my alley.

  I heard something creak down the dark hall to my right and whipped the flashlight in that direction. It almost sounded like footsteps. Slow footsteps.

  I yanked in a breath when I saw movement and jerked my flashlight in that direction.

  Oh, fuck.

  Standing in the middle of the hallway like a sentry, or something straight out of a horror movie, was a wolf.

  A legit wolf with deep, amber eyes and sharp teeth. It took a slow step in my direction, a predator, and I backed to the door, tucking the book under my arm.

  The wolf growled and the hair rose on its neck. My heart slammed against my ribs, and I gripped the doorknob, twisting hard so I could get out.

  Once I backed through the door, I slammed it shut and raced off the porch, my boots thudding on the wood as I dart down the stairs and back to the car.

  I practically dove inside and closed the door behind me. Then locked it.

  My heart still beat out of control as I stared through the windshield, half expecting the wolf to come crashing through a window in the house and charging in my direction.

  But it remained quiet. Almost peaceful.

  The old book was in my lap, open to random pages in the middle.

  But when I scanned the words, I realized it might not be random at all. The lettering was thick across the top and it said one word.

  Werewolf.

  “Holy, shit.”

  It was dark enough I couldn’t make out the rest of the words on the page. And that was just fine for now. I didn’t want to be here any longer than I had to.

  My hands were trembling slightly when I set the book in the passenger seat. I tugged the keys from my pocket and started the car, turning up the heater to chase away the chill.

  I’d head into town. I knew I’d seen a bar there and right now, I needed a drink.

  #

  Knob Creek was bigger than I expected, a pretty tourist spot along a river with both hiking and skiing close by. But it also had a nice Main Street strip that catered to someone like me.

  Meaning it was easy to find a bar, even on a Thursday night.

  I walked inside and saw a handful of people, probably all locals, and most of them were couples with snacks to complement their drinks.

  I sat at the bar and rested my arms on the smooth surface, waiting for the bartender to finish pouring a beer for another customer before he walked to me.

  “What’ll you have?” he asked, voice gruff.

  “Whatever’s on tap.” Didn’t really matter as long as it calmed my nerves.

  “ID?” he asked.

  I pulled out my wallet, although I half expected they wouldn’t care in a town this size. I flashed my driver’s license and caught a quick peek of my picture before I put my wallet back.

  It was a terrible picture I’d had taken a few weeks after a terrible day. My father’s death. I’d still been in a daze, confused about the circumstances regarding his death, and unable to shake the dream I’d had not too long before the event. One that predicted he would die just how I’d seen in the dream.

  And not too many days afterward, I’d discovered he’d been saving money in an account for me for several long years.

  I had no clue why, but the first thing I’d done was drop out of college. I couldn’t focus, and I was bound and determined to find out how he’d died. On top of that, it had propelled me to study everything supernatural and paranormal I could get my hands on. He’d been involved in something, and I wanted to know what it was.

  I wasn’t exactly an expert, but my knowledge had landed me writing gigs for several magazines and online publications about all those supernatural and paranormal things.

  The bartender slid over my beer, and I accepted it with a nod, then took a long swallow.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted another man sitting two stools over. He gestured to my beer and said to the bartender, “I’ll take one of those.”

  He gave me a small smile, just one of those that quirked the corner of his mouth. One that said he needed a drink just as badly as I did.

  And, yeah, I couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was. For such a small town, it certainly didn’t lack for mysterious men who were sexy as hell.

  I turned back to my drink, taking another swallow and closing my eyes briefly. When I did, the pentagram flashed through my mind, the one I’d seen on the front of the book. It was just like the one that had been carved into my father’s living room floor when he’d been found dead.

  Another chill slid down my spine and I took a giant swallow of beer, trying to shove away the image.

  “You look like you’ve had a bad day,” the man on the stool nearby said.

  When I glanced over, his eyes latched onto mine. They were dark as night, narrowed, and full of questions.

  “More like a bad year,” I muttered.

  He shifted over one seat, so he was directly next to me. I straightened, realizing he was trying to make small talk. Although…he didn’t look like the kind of person who made small talk.

  I took a better look. He was broad in the shoulders, muscular from what I could tell even though he was wearing a jet-black leather jacket. His hair was as dark as his eyes and jacket, black as a raven’s wings, and feathered back as though he’d run his hands through it recently, and probably more than once.

  Then he flashed a grin I didn’t expect. It packed a punch, shooting a jolt of desire straight to my stomach. Fuck. That was not why I was here.

  “I’ve been there,” he said easily. “Had a few of those. Bad years.”

  I shifted to face him fully, thinking that maybe he was local. If he was, I might be able to get some information from him. “You live close by?”

  “Moved here recently, yeah. What about you?”

  I took another swallow of my beer and shrugged. “Just here for research.”

  “Research? What kind?”

  My lips curved a little. “The kind that most people don’t believe in.”

  I could tell his interest was piqued. He leaned in closer, eyes locking on mine. That was normal. Most people were interested in the unknown.

  It had definitely interested me, especially when I’d started having my own experiences and realizing that maybe my mom wasn’t actually crazy but there was something bigger at play. I’d researched everything I could get
my hands on—especially about witches. Then I’d gotten the writing gigs and started traveling while I researched, learning and earning extra money beyond what my father had given to me.

  All to try to figure out more about my own abilities and what had happened to my dad.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the door to the bar open. Dylan walked in, and his gaze locked on mine for a long moment before he sat at a booth in the corner.

  Coincidence? Doubtful.

  He’d probably followed me here. First, he told me to leave and now this? What the fuck?

  The man sitting next to me held out his hand. I caught a whiff of his cologne before I took it.

  “I’m Gage Alden,” he said.

  “Lincoln Powers—most people call me Link.”

  His fingers closed over mine, and it was like a bolt of electricity shot straight through me. My whole body buzzed and hummed—not entirely unpleasant but definitely unsettling.

  “Link?” Gage asked, his hand still locked around mine.

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. A flash of the wolf in my mom’s house went through my mind, and then the pages of the book with the pentagram flipping frantically.

  Then another face…one cast in shadows…and so dark I could barely make it out. Except for one thing.

  Fangs.

  CHAPTER 2

  “Lincoln,” a low voice said in my ear. It was deep and calm enough it was almost hypnotic.

  It felt like I had to pry my eyes open, and when I did, embarrassment washed over me. Fuck. I was on the floor in the bar, propped up against Gage like he’d managed to catch me when I’d passed out.

  What the hell?

  “Next time you should probably have something to eat before you drink,” Gage said with something like amusement in his voice.

  I grimaced. “It wasn’t because of the drink.”

  Of that I was sure. Something else had happened. I’d seen something… It almost felt like an omen.

  A few other customers were watching, curious about what was going on, and I tried to get to my feet. My legs were unsteady, and Gage put his arm around me to help me lean against the stool.