THE INCUBUS AND THE BODYGUARD - A WITCH QUEEN NOVELLA (PAPERBACK)

Note: If you purchase a preorder AND non-preorder paperback items at the same time, the books will not be shipped until the preorder is released. This is because you are being charged a single shipping fee. Similarly, if you purchase a paperback pre-order AND an ebook pre-order at the same time, you may get an automated shipment notification from Shopify telling you your pre-order is complete when it is not.

You pay for your pre-order upon purchase, not on release date.

Print books are printed individually to order and shipped through our independent printing partner, Bookvault after the release date. Shipping rates, taxes if eligible, and delivery times will vary depending on your country, delivery address, and shipping method.

It usually takes a few days to print your pre-order after the release date and then 3-5 days to ship in the UK, and 5-21 days to the US and elsewhere. You can track the shipping with the link in your order. 

Hardbacks, including bespoke editions, are currently being printed by Bookvault UK only. Please see shipping rates on the checkout page.

The gleam of the gold leaf adorning the walls and columns of Oro Divino made Vlad Vissarion’s eyes hurt when he walked inside the high-end Italian restaurant on the Upper East Side. It didn’t help that he was still recovering from a hangover, one of several he’d suffered this past month.

The way his familiar Tarang flicked his tail beside him indicated the tiger was still annoyed by his recent behavior.

“Mr. Vissarion.” The maitre d’hotel left his post and came to greet him, his expression slightly nervous.

Vlad dipped his head. “Antonio. Is everything ready?”

“Yes, sir. Follow me.”

Though the man couldn’t see Tarang, he naturally avoided the space where the tiger walked. Familiars were only visible to those who possessed magic in their soul or if they wished to make their presence known.

Vlad could feel dozens of eyes on him as he crossed the main restaurant area. It wasn’t just his looks that made him the center of attention when he entered a room. His incubus powers played a part in it too.

They took the elevator to the third floor of the converted nineteenth-century brownstone. Antonio led him down a corridor to a sumptuous private dining room.

Vlad slowed to a stop, his gaze sweeping the space where two of New York’s most notorious crime families would soon attempt to broker a peace deal.

It offered a commanding view of Madison Avenue through its floor-to-ceiling windows. One he would normally have found pleasing were it not for the company he would soon be keeping.

The Black Devils men stationed discreetly around the room greeted him with silent nods.

A dull headache hammered at Vlad’s temples. He swallowed a sigh.

I’d rather be spending my Friday night at home than deal with the inevitable drama this evening will bring. His chest tightened. Then again, the place feels too empty now that Mae is gone.

Mae Jin, the Witch Queen of prophecy, had been temporarily staying at his apartment in Chelsea until she finally defeated the Sorcerer King, who had long ruled the world of magic. Though it had been four months since the battle on Brooklyn Bridge that had sealed the fate of all witches and sorcerers in the world, the encounter remained harrowingly fresh in Vlad’s mind. Not least because he’d finally met his father Ilmon, the king of Incubi and Succubi, and learned the truth about his birth.

Tarang bumped the back of his hand with his nose.

Vlad looked into the tiger’s limpid blue eyes. Are you trying to comfort me?

Tarang huffed, the bond that connected them singing warmly between their souls. Though Vlad could not hear his familiar’s thoughts like Mae could hers, he was acutely aware of the tiger’s emotions.

He perused the guy behind the bar and the uniformed figures setting the dining table dominating the space.

“The staff knows what to do in case this shit goes south, right?”

Antonio paled a little. “Will it go south, sir?”

Vlad shrugged. “This is the Italians we’re talking about. They’re not exactly known for their sangfroid.”

The maitre d’hotel swallowed. “I shall keep that in mind, sir. And yes, they know the drill. Keep low, get out, and pretend to be dumb about the whole thing if they’re questioned by the police.”

The Oro Divino belonged to the Black Devils. Everyone who worked there had signed a confidentiality agreement to keep their mouths shut about what they saw and heard on the premises. The pay more than made up for the inconvenience. Plus, many of the staff had fled other criminal gangs and benefited from the protection of the ruling New York Bratva.

A bout of sympathy danced through Vlad at Antonio’s worried expression. He patted the man’s shoulder.

“There’ll be a special tip for everyone if this dinner concludes without bloodshed.”

A flush of color flooded the maitre d’hotel’s cheeks.

Vlad dialed down his incubus charms. His cellphone rang just as the man left.

He moved to the windows overlooking Madison Avenue and took the call.

“How’s it going?” Yuliy Vissarion said without preamble.

“It hasn’t started yet.”

There was a short silence. “Let’s hope this goes off without a hitch,” the head of the Black Devils said in a tired voice. “We have a lot riding on it.”

Vlad frowned. He could imagine his uncle smoking one of the cigars he liked so much behind the white granite desk in his modern study, in the fifteen-thousand-square-foot Brooklyn mansion he called his home.

“You know, I’m not sure I’m enjoying the new role our overlords in Moscow decided to bestow upon us,” the incubus said coolly. “None of our men signed up for this gig to be peacemakers of the criminal underworld.”

“Be that as it may, we can’t be seen to fail,” Yuliy grunted. “Our reputation will suffer a huge blow if this peace deal falls through.”

Vlad ran a hand irritably through his hair.

He supposed he should be grateful his uncle had sent him to mediate the negotiations between the Lucianos and the Red Dragon Triad rather than make him sit through another lecture about his duties as the heir to their group.

A familiar figure appeared in the dining room doorway.

Vlad stared.

“By the way, I forgot to mention something,” Yuliy said. “Someone will be acting as an external observer for these negotiations. Call it backup in case things go wrong and we get blamed for it.”

“Would this someone be a former member of the Bacatá Cartel by any chance?” Vlad asked with a sigh.

“How’d you know?” Yuliy said without compunction.

“I’m looking at him.”

Vlad ended the call and watched the man coming toward him.

“Really, an external observer?” he asked Enrique Cortes drily. He grabbed the Colombian’s hand and pulled him into a quick bear hug.

“What can I say?” Cortes smiled. “I’m apparently a popular peacekeeper in the criminal underworld.”

Vlad grimaced. They both knew Cortes used to be one of the most ruthless mobsters in South America before his core was repaired by Mae a few months back and he officially returned to the world of magic as the head of the Medellin coven.

The Colombian sorcerer’s familiar hopped down from his shoulder and landed lightly on Tarang’s head.

“How’re you doing there, tiger?” Popo said brightly.

Tarang huffed testily at the red Macaw.

“Did someone forget to take his happy pills this morning?” Popo asked with undeterred cheerfulness.

Vlad arched an eyebrow. “Why is he so peppy?”

“I may have promised to take him on a date to his favorite place in the city tomorrow,” Cortes replied with a long-suffering sigh.

“And where’s that, exactly?” Vlad said warily.

“The zoo.” Cortes shrugged at Vlad’s expression. “I don’t get it either. You’d think it’d be the last place he’d want to go, what with being in a cage most of his life.”

“Your parrot is weird.”

“I have the same thought every single day,” Cortes muttered.

A waiter brought them drinks.

Vlad took the glass of champagne and looked out over Madison Avenue.

“Have you heard from Mae?” Cortes asked, his gaze on the bright lights outside.

Vlad wasn’t fooled by his neutral tone.

“Not since she and Nikolai left for Europe,” he replied in a level voice.

Cortes hesitated. “Anya got a message from Mae yesterday.”

Anya Mendes was the daughter of the High Priest of the Rio de Janeiro coven. A powerful witch with the unique ability to cast Illusion Sorcery, she and Cortes were now officially engaged.

“Oh yeah?” Vlad said with studied indifference.

“Mae and Nikolai are planning to get a place together in Brooklyn when they get back.”

A hot feeling stabbed through Vlad’s heart at Cortes’s words.

“Are they now?” He picked an imaginary piece of lint off his Armani suit.

Tarang made a soft sound and rubbed against his leg.

“Yes.” Cortes wrinkled his brow, evidently not buying the act either. “You need to put her behind you. Nothing will come from moping after Mae.”

“I’m not moping,” Vlad denied.

Cortes raised an eyebrow.

“It’s been four months,” Vlad said a tad sullenly. “I’m allowed to mope a little still. I did love her after all.”

Cortes watched him carefully over the rim of his champagne flute.

“You slept with anyone recently?”

Vlad narrowed his eyes. Anyone else asking that question would have been looking for their teeth next.

“Why, are you offering your services?” he grunted.

Cortes made a face. “You and I both know our dicks would shrivel up and die if we saw each other naked.”

Popo straightened on Tarang’s head, his golden eyes gleaming. “My Enrique, you must keep your options open. You never know what might happen in the—mmph! Mmph!”

Cortes had muzzled the parrot.

Vlad grimaced. “Is everything okay between you and Anya?”

“It’s peachy, thank you.” Cortes gave Popo a dark look.

“By the way, why are you still representing the Bacatá Cartel?”

“Are you trying to change the subject?”

“Yes and no.” Vlad eyed the Colombian curiously. “I thought you cut all ties with your old family.”

“I did.” Cortes rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “My old boss asked me for a favor. To be fair, I owed him one.”

Vlad gave him a puzzled look.

“Remember when Anya and I got attacked by those hellbeasts after we left the cartel compound?” Cortes said. “Well, they ended up having to deal with them. They lost a few good men that day.”

Vlad frowned. The attack had been orchestrated by the Sorcerer King in an attempt to get his hands on Cortes’s rare Arcane Magic.

“Boss.”

Vlad turned. Ilya had appeared in the doorway. His oldest serving bodyguard was dressed in an immaculate black suit that hid the gun under his left armpit, his face set in the stony expression that was his calling card. Milo, Vlad’s second bodyguard, appeared behind Ilya.

“They’re here,” Ilya said tersely.

A buzz of tension coursed through Vlad. He focused on the reason they were there tonight.

“Show them in.”  

WITCH QUEEN SERIES
The Darkest Night
Rites of Passage
Of Flames and Crows
Midnight Witch
A Fury of Shadows
Witch Queen
The Incubus and The Bodyguard

The Party