Blood and Midnight, page 1
Blood and Midnight
The Witch’s Monsters, Book One
Copyright © 2021 by Sarah Piper
SarahPiperBooks.com
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Published by Two Gnomes Media
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Cover design by Luminescence Covers
All rights reserved. With the exception of brief quotations used for promotional or review purposes, no part of this book may be recorded, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the express permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, organizations, brands, media, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
v3
E-book ISBN: 978-1-948455-57-2
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-948455-28-2
Audiobook ISBN: 978-1-948455-64-0
Contents
Book Series by Sarah Piper
Get Connected!
About Blood and Midnight
Prologue
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
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
About Sarah Piper
Book Series by Sarah Piper
M/F Romance Series
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Monstrous Obsessions
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Vampire Royals of New York
Reverse Harem Romance Series
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Claimed by Gargoyles
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The Witch’s Monsters
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Tarot Academy
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The Witch’s Rebels
Get Connected!
I love connecting with readers! There are a few different ways you can keep in touch:
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Email: sarah@sarahpiperbooks.com
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TikTok: @sarahpiperbooks
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Facebook group: Sarah Piper’s Sassy Witches
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Twitter: @sarahpiperbooks
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Newsletter: Never miss a new release or a sale! Sign up for the VIP Readers Club:
sarahpiperbooks.com/readers-club
About Blood and Midnight
Three sexy-but-psycho monsters. The witch they're determined to protect. And a high-stakes heist about to go very wrong…
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I've made some pretty questionable choices in my life—dabbling in necromancy, double-crossing vampires—but summoning the dark goddess to save my sisters? That was just plain stupid.
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Now I’m in her debt, and goddesses don’t exactly do payment plans. She wants the blood of the dark fae warlord of Midnight, a realm of exiles where the sun never rises and torture is a competitive sport. It’s a death trap only three men have ever escaped—my newly appointed escorts.
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Jax, a terrifying demon whose icy touch leaves me trembling in more ways than one. Hudson, a hulking, fiercely protective gargoyle shifter hiding a past so painful he doesn't speak. And Elian, a cocky fae prick with eyes like molten silver and a heart full of vengeance—a heart that once belonged to me.
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I’ll do anything to settle my debts and get back home to my sisters, even if it means teaming up with my infuriating ex and the other sinfully hot psychos for the most dangerous blood heist in history.
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But when it comes to the cruel fae warlord, not even my monsters can protect me…
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Especially when we discover why the dark goddess really sent us to Midnight.
Blood and Midnight is also available in audio narrated by Mackenzie Cartwright, Teddy Hamilton, Aaron Shedlock, and Jason Clarke!
Dedication
To the woman who missed someone so much,
it hollowed out her fucking insides.
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To the woman who saved up her tears for the shower,
where no one could hear her cry.
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To the woman who fell to her knees
over a song, a scent, a photograph.
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To the woman who stood alone at the witching hour,
forehead pressed to the window,
wondering how the fuck it’d even happened.
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To the woman who didn’t know
if she could drag herself up off the floor
to face another day.
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I see you, you fucking goddess.
I’ve always seen you.
You were never alone.
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Just because you fell apart
doesn’t mean you’re broken.
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So, scream if you have to.
Cry.
Shatter.
Fucking feel it.
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You’re still the baddest bitch.
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This story is for you.
Prologue
HALEY
There’s an old adage about the difference between falling in love with a hero and falling in love with a villain. Go for the latter, it says, because a hero would ultimately sacrifice you to save the world, but a villain? He’d burn down the world just to save you.
Sounds pretty epic, right? And let’s be honest—who doesn’t love a bad boy?
The thing about villains, though… Ultimately, they’re just the heroes of their own stories. Still fighting for a cause. Still trying to prove something to the world.
Trust me, I’ve fallen for both. And those assholes? They broke my heart every damn time.
So now I’ve got a new saying:
Screw the heroes and villains.
I want the monsters.
Dark. Vicious. Depraved. The men who slide into your heart like a surgical blade, so sharp you don’t even feel it until you’re on your knees, trembling and soaked in blood.
A monster won’t try to woo you with roses and chocolates, with sweet promises whispered across satin pillowcases. He’ll kick down a fucking door to get to you, though. Snap a man’s neck just for leering. One threat against you, and he’ll tear out the guy’s throat with his teeth, then kiss you with a mouth full of blood, no apologies.
A monster’s got nothing to prove and nothing left to lose.
And in bed?
Damn.
He’ll own you, pushing until he finds the very edge of your limits, then smashing right through them. And oh, how you’ll beg him for it—beg him to break you, again and again and again. To absolutely ruin you for anything less than a life of obsession and fire.
And while the hero slays his dragons and the villain burns down the world for the woman he loves, the monster will simply hand you the matches and gasoline, step aside, and smile as you burn it down yourself.
Because all along, the monster always knew you could.
He just had to make sure you knew it, too.
1
HALEY
The blood on my boots was still wet when I stepped inside.
My weapons needed a good cleaning too, but the novitiate asked me to leave the daggers and stakes at the entrance, and I obliged.
The Temple of the Dark Moon, she reminded me, was a holy place.
Right.
Appropriately chastised, I nodded and followed the swish of her long black robes across the threshold, my eyes widening as the interior came into view.
The temple had probably been beautiful once, but now it lay in ruins. Half the ceiling had caved in, and broken pillars of onyx and moonstone flanked the inner sanctuary, several of them reduced to rubble. Deep, angry gouges scored the masonry as if some feral god-beast had been locked up inside.
Everything smelled like rot and death.
What the hell happened here?
Hoping whatever it was had already been dealt with, I lowered my eyes and quickened the pace.
“Yours?” the novitiate asked from beneath her dark hood, and I knew she meant the blood I’d tracked across the chipped marble floor. I wondered if she’d be the one mopping it up later or if that would be my job now—one of the many menial tasks the Goddess surely had in store for me.
“No.” I scraped the toe of my boot along the floor and left another smear, which was about all the acknowledgment the previous owner of the blood deserved. “Listen, I’m sorry about the mess, but I was summoned here kind of last-minute and I didn’t really have time to… I mean… Shoul
With a serene smile, the novitiate lowered her hood and said, “The Goddess Melantha does not require purity of body. Only purity of intent.”
She looked younger than I expected—only a teenager—and she wasn’t a witch. Just a regular human girl. I wondered what she’d done to end up a servant in the realm of the Dark Goddess, a place you couldn’t even access without being summoned by the deity herself, then portaled in by her magick. Ruined or not, this temple was more than just a holy place—it existed in a liminal space all its own, nothing but stars and darkness as far as the eye could see.
Didn’t the girl have parents? Friends? Someone missing her on the other side?
A sharp pain lanced my heart, but I breathed through it. I had no idea how long the girl had been here, but this was merely day one for me, and I had a long road ahead. I needed to stay grounded. Committed.
“How will she know my intentions are pure?” I asked. “Is there a test?”
“Fear not, Daughter of Darkwinter. I’m certain Her Holiness will be quite impressed with your offering.”
Ignoring the Darkwinter bit, I forced a smile and scratched the back of my neck, sneaking a covert whiff of my armpit.
Let’s hope her Holiness is impressed with Eau de Urban Warfare, because that’s about all I’m offering at the moment…
“Come. She’s expecting you.” Still wearing a look of pure serenity, she continued on through a doorway at the back of the temple sanctuary, gesturing for me to follow.
The antechamber was small and intimate, much less imposing than the main temple. The warm glow of hundreds of candles flickered across plain mud walls and a low ceiling, the ground nothing but bare earth. My boots sank into it with every step, and as the scents of candle wax and dirt washed over me, I let out a sigh of relief.
This room, at least, had remained untouched by whatever monster had gone batshit crazy in the sanctuary.
My eyes adjusted to the candlelight, my gaze drifting to the stone altar in the center of the room—a large slab covered in fresh flowers and bowls of fruit, ringed by votive candles in red glass orbs.
Offerings, I assumed. For the…
Oh, shit.
I gasped as I finally spotted the boy, no more than ten or eleven, lying in repose on the altar. His skin was milk white, the robe they’d dressed him in much too large, as if it was borrowed in haste from someone much older.
Someone much closer to death than this child should’ve been.
“How did he pass?” I whispered.
“He didn’t.” The novitiate frowned. “Melantha’s son is very much alive.”
“Her son?” I couldn’t hide my shock. The Dark Goddess was tens of thousands of years old—probably older. Lots of witches prayed to her, worshipped her, wrote volumes about her history and magick. I’d never once heard of a child. “How long has he been like this?”
“Six months.” She sighed, running her fingers through the sweep of dark hair across his forehead. “He was cursed by a dark fae warlord called Keradoc. A vicious monster who punishes children for the sins of their parents.”
An icy shiver ran down my spine. Dark fae were powerful, but Melantha was a dark goddess. The dark goddess. How could a fae warlord have gotten anywhere near her child? And what sin could she have committed to provoke such terrible retribution?
“He’s alive,” the novitiate continued, “but his soul is trapped in moonglass.” She retrieved a small wooden chest from the offerings at his side, opening it to reveal a glass-like sphere as delicate as a soap bubble. At her gentle touch, it glowed with a bright, pearlescent sheen. “It’s made from pure moonlight, cast with dark fae magick that’s been banned for thousands of years.”
“Because it’s a prison,” I said, disgust churning inside. It wasn’t the first time I’d encountered moonglass. According to legend, the very first fae created it by deceiving the moon into lending the fae her light, then forging the magickal globes to trap the souls of their enemies. Eventually, they’d release those souls into the most hostile fae realms, sentencing them to an eternity of torment. “How did this happen?”
She met my eyes, but her serene smile was gone, replaced now with a look of grim determination. “What matters, Daughter of Darkwinter, is that you alone can free him.”
“Me? But… how?”
“Breaking the curse requires the blood of the one who cast it.”
“Keradoc. Of course.” I blew out a breath, the tightness in my muscles loosening as the pieces clicked into place. I was a blood witch—a damned good one at that. Melantha needed me to do some sort of spell to help the child. “So, when do we start?”
“You will travel to his realm as soon as possible,” she replied. “Once you’ve extracted the blood, you’ll return to the Temple of the Dark Moon to perform the spell with Melantha, breaking the curse and—”
“Wait. Did you just…” I blinked at her, my mind racing to keep up. “You don’t have his blood? Then how can I do the spell?”
“As I said, once you return to the Temple—”
“Her Holiness expects me to hunt this guy down? Some psychotic warlord from a realm I’ve never been to?”
She arched an eyebrow, as if in warning. “Her Holiness granted you untold strength and power in your time of need, for which you so eagerly pledged your service.”
Tension simmered in the air as she glared at me, making my skin hot and itchy.
“I know. It’s just…” I took a breath, trying to regroup. Who was this girl, anyway? Where were the other novitiates? Melantha’s soldiers? “Forgive me, but when Her Holiness summoned me, I was under the impression I’d be meeting with her elite guard.”
“Elite? Hardly.” A bitter laugh rang out through the small chamber. “No honor among them. No fortitude. I’m sorry, but the Guard of the Dark Moon is no more.”
A prickle of unease tingled at the back of my mind. What the hell did “no more” mean?
Fired? Furloughed? Executed?
Crushed to death by falling pillars?
None of this made any sense.
I paced before the altar, my sudden movement snuffing out a few of the votives. “The guards are gone, so now it’s on me to assassinate some creepy warlord?”
