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Seneca Lee was dying .

She could feel it.

Could sense her life slipping away with every drop of blood that left her body. Since there wasn’t anything she could do to stop it, she simply lay there and welcomed the sweet oblivion that awaited her. She had no strength left to fight anyway. And even if she did, there was no way to release herself from the restraints that kept her strapped down on the medical bed she was lying on.

Waking up to find herself in a freaking dungeon with no windows was pretty damn scary. The flames from the red candles set up around the room made the setting even more eerie. Shadows danced on the stone walls, and the wax slid down the side of the candles to pool at the base like blood. She felt like a sacrifice laid out on an altar, and it was made worse by witnessing her own demise as her life was slowly drained from her.

As a witch born with exceptional luck, one would think she had lived a blessed life.

Sadly, it was just the opposite.

In truth, she was fucking cursed.

Things hadn’t always been that way, though. Born to wonderful parents and raised in a home filled with laughter and love, Seneca had been carefree and happy for most of her childhood. Her mother, Claudia, had been a witch with basic magical skills but a lot of artistic talent. She had been a special effects makeup artist who could make any injury seem real. She also created awesome monsters and other creatures using prosthetics and paint.

Originally from New York, she moved across the country to work in Hollywood. While working on her first feature film, she met Ethan Lee. Ethan was a famous director known for making horror movies. He was also a talented mage who specialized in visual illusions and effects. Most of his films were low budget, but audiences loved them and couldn’t wait for the next one to drop.

Ethan and Claudia had instantly fallen in love, which made sense once they realized they were true mates. While they were both dedicated to making movies, they wanted a quieter life than living in Los Angeles full-time. They ended up establishing their permanent home close to a film studio run by some of their good friends up north near Seattle.

In addition to working in the studio, they also did quite a bit of traveling when it came to making movies. Seneca had been blessed to be able to travel the world with them. Sometimes it felt like punishment when she couldn’t join them on location, but they made every effort to be home with her during the school year.

Their home had always been a favorite hangout for all of her friends since it was like living in a funhouse. New props were constantly being stored there, and hermotherwas always experimenting with new creature designs. Halloween in their house was next level, and people even traveled from miles around to visit the epic haunted maze her parents set up on their property every year.

While her friends thought their house was amazing, Seneca had grown immune to most of the craziness.It had gotten to the point where she no longer flinched when she passed by a monster in the hallway or saw an alien in the kitchen.

As expected, she had inherited her mother and father’s love of a good horror story but had wanted to forge her own path. Instead of working on films, she spent most of her free time creating graphic novels with her best friend, Shadow Warcloud.

Shadow was a demon-witch hybrid with an acerbic tongue and a heart of gold. They had met back in kindergarten and had been besties ever since.Their nickname in school had been Shadow and Light since Seneca’s pale gray eyes and platinum blonde hair contrasted with her friend’s black hair and eyes.

While she loved graphic design and drawing, her friend was a talented author who also liked to write romance novels. Even so, she committed herself to their shared projects with the same passion and dedication as Seneca.

Because the two of them were always together, their families had also grown close over the years. Their parents often had double-date nights, and Shadow’s older brother, Thane, always treated Seneca like another sister.

Thane was a famous snowboarder who won the gold in the last Olympics after a spectacular run. When he wasn’t busy practicing and traveling around the world, he could usually be found in his parents’ garage tinkering on one of his cars or doing some other extreme sport. He was the inspiration for one of Seneca and Shadow’s earlier graphic novels, and he got a kick out of telling his fans about it whenever he had the chance to brag.

Although their parents wanted to set them up with an agent to help them get a publishing deal, Seneca and Shadow had decided to self-publish in order to retain creative control of their work. It had taken some effort to build a following, but the supporters of their work had steadily grown into a flourishing fanbase.

Their popularity exploded after they published a new novel about a kickass female demon hybrid who hunted other demons that preyed on humans. While they tried to stay away from the true lore of the supernatural community, there was some overlap that couldn’t be avoided. They hadn’t worried too much about that since they embellished the hell out of the fictional setting and characters they had created to make sure no one would mistake their stories as being true.

They hadn’t expected the story to do so well but were thrilled when fans begged for more. Because of that, they ended up making it into a series instead of a single title.As their sales grew with each new release, they realized they had the start of a lucrative, full-time career.

Seneca wanted to spend all her time working on their graphic novels, but she agreed to finish college first since that was her parent’s greatest wish. Neither of them had gotten a college degree, so they wanted her to be the first in their family to do so.

Even though she earned decent grades, she hated school. She had a hard time focusing and usually ended up drawing or writing bits of storyline on scraps of paper or her tablet instead of paying attention in class.Luckily, she did well enough on the exams to pass her classes, and that was all she needed.

She ended up attending Trifecta University since that was where Shadow and some of their friends had decided to go. Trifecta University was a top-tier school for both supernatural and human students, and lucky for her, they had an excellent art program. Although she couldn’t attend the magical academy hidden within the university since she didn’t have the magical abilities to qualify, she was able to hang out with her friends during their regular classes and free time.

While both of her parents had magic, Seneca had never experienced so much as a magical blip since she was born. It was disappointing, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. Since she had always considered herself essentially human, she didn’t miss what she’d never had.

Magic was more of an abstract wish than an actual reality for her.

Most of the people she hung out with were supernaturals, but they never made her feel like she didn’t fit in. At least her core group of friends didn’t. Of course, there were a few assholes who made fun of her.

Not having magic made her a target.

She also got mocked for her eclectic taste in fashion, which was a combination of goth and old Hollywood. People accused her of trying to act like a witch, even though she didn’t have any magic. The irony of that was all the powerful witches she knew looked like totally normal humans most of the time.

While her friends usually shut the bullies up pretty damn quick, sometimes they were unavoidable. She’d been subject to several spells, charms, and hexes over the years, though most of those had been pretty harmless. It was difficult being part of the supernatural community when she didn’t really belong, but that was simply a reality she had accepted.

It wasn’t until the day her parents died in a horrible accident on her twenty-first birthday that her powers finally manifested. She’d made a surprise visit home to see them but had discovered they were spending the weekend scouting a new location for their latest film project. Instead of staying where they were, her parents had immediately changed their plans and caught a flight home to celebrate her birthday with her.

Thathad ended up being a fatal mistake.

During their flight back, they encountered a storm that turned out to be far more intense than originally predicted. Seneca had been on her way to the airport to pick them up when she’d been notified about the plane crash. She didn’t remember driving off the road or tumbling down a steep embankment but had woken up when the rain started flooding into her damaged car.

At first, she hadn’t been able to figure out how she had survived. The rescue team that had found her on their way to another accident had called it amiracle, but she knew better. The situation had been impossible to escape without some sort of magical intervention.

The trauma of losing her parents had triggered her awakening, allowingher to live through what should have been a fatal accident. She had walked away with barely a scratch, but she would have gladly traded places with her parents if it had meant they could have lived.

Losing them was a hell of a price to pay to finally come into her magic. Instead of being something to celebrate, it had marked the beginning of the end for her.

Besides dealing with the death of her parents, she also lost several friends that same night. Shadow had flown home with her that weekend. She’d claimed she wanted to visit her own parents, but the truth was she had arranged a surprise birthday party for Seneca at an exclusive club located in a private mansion on the outskirts of town.

The Manor had ended up being directly in the path of a devastating mudslide that had been triggered by a flash flood caused by the raging storm. Since the venue had been filled with a combination of supernaturals and humans, those with magic had done their best to save people and counter the flood. Unfortunately, the mudslide had hit so fast that there hadn’t been much of a warning before disaster stuck.

The chaos might have been caused by an act of nature,but Seneca still felt responsible for her best friend’s death. If she hadn’t gone home that weekend, Shadow could have remained safe at school. Their other friends wouldn’t have been at the club that night either. Knowing that everyone she loved would still be alive if she’d made a different choice had wrecked her.

For months after the accident, she had lived in a haze of guilt and grief. She stopped going to school andbarricadedherself in the house where she was surrounded by the memories of her parents.

When her mother’s sister, Clara, and her husband, Mark, had shown up, she hadn’t protested them staying at the house with her. Even though she had never been close to them, they were the only family she had left.

Initially, she’d been grateful to have them around. They made sure she ate and took care of running the house since she was barely able to function. But before she knew it, they had completely taken over.She hadn’t realized what they were doing until she’d woken up one day and barely recognized her beloved home. Almost every trace of her parents had been removed from the house, and the warm, cheerful atmosphere had been altered into a cold, ostentatious showpiece.

Looking back, she should have put a stop to things then and there. Unfortunately, she hadn’t. She had trusted them, and that had allowed them to manipulate her into doing exactly what they wanted.

Despite experiencing her awakening, Seneca hesitated to use her magic. She knew it didn’t make much sense, but she couldn’t help blaming her powers for what had happened the day her parents died. Logically, she understood she hadn’t been the cause of what had happened that night. However, she wouldn’t have survived if her magic hadn’t manifested, and the guilt she felt made it impossible to truly enjoy finally becoming a real witch.

When she hadn’t shown any interest in learning how to use her magic, Clara and Mark had insisted on teaching her some of the basics. She had initially rebuffed their attempts but had finally agreed when they pointed out she could inadvertently hurt someone with her magic if she wasn’t careful.

She hadn’t known it at the time, but their training had been an excuse to try to figure out exactly how she had survived. They had been certain something magical had saved her, but they didn’t actually want her to learn how to use her magic. If she grew to be too powerful, she wouldn’t have been as easy to control.

She had been curious enough to comply with their various tests. During training, a spell had backfired, but instead of hurting her, it had somehow been deflected before any of them could react. She had always believed that she didn’t have magical abilities, but the truth was magic had been influencing her life all along.

She just hadn’t realized it at the time.

Her ability wasn’t exactly something that was easy to figure out. It wasn’t an overt power, like controlling fire or the wind. It wasn’t even something tangible, like being able to make it rain.

Seneca had literally been born lucky.

If she wanted to accomplish something, she managed to do so with minimal effort. In school, tests had always been easy for her, even if she had barely paid attention in class. She always thought she had a good memory, but it was more than that. She’d also never taken more than a cursory art lesson, but she had somehow figured out exactly how to draw the images she wanted to create for her graphic novels.

When it came to physical injuries, she had miraculously avoided being hurt in every sport she had ever played. Sure, she had gotten bloody and bruised a few times, but she had somehow evaded suffering any major damage.

Looking back, she could see that her luck had saved her from countless mishaps over the years. She’d always trusted that sinking feeling in her gut that told her not to walk down a certain street or to turn right when she was supposed to go left, but she had always considered it basic intuition. Her lucky magic had probably saved her from numerous dangerous situations, but she had been oblivious to it all.

To test her theory, she had put herself through several risky training exercises, which she easily passed. Her uncle even bought her a bunch of different scratch-and-win lottery tickets. When more than half of them were winners, they realized she really had been blessed with luck.

Because her ability seemed so peculiar, it wasn’t easy to understand exactly how it worked. The best way to describe it was to imagine she had a magical lantern inside of herself that only lit up when there was enough power to turn it on. Once it was on, the light from the lantern made her one of the luckiest beings in the realm.

After doing more tests, they discovered that she could also give luck to someone else, albeit temporarily. Using the light from the lantern, she could produce a few drops of blood laced with golden light, which was essentially pure liquid luck. A single drop of her golden blood could grant someone luck for a limited amount of time, but there was a catch. The blood had to be given freely, and it wasn’t something that she could produce that often.

When she kept the luck for herself, it lasted a lot longer than if she gave it to someone else. Because of that, she could have spent every day living a magically lucky life. On the flip side, once she started giving out her golden blood, it left her feeling weak and drained of energy until her inner light could be replenished.

It almost felt like a punishment for sharing.

With enough time and rest, she was able to fully recover, but there were other dangers that came with being able to grant luck to people. At the time, she hadn’t been worried about any of that because she had trusted her aunt and uncle to keep her secret. Unfortunately, that had been a mistake since their greed had outweighed any familial bond they shared.

Without her knowledge, they had begun to sell her blood using the supernatural black market. When she discovered what they were doing, she’d been furious. They had tried to reassure her that they had mixed her blood into magical pills they created so no one knew the real source, but that hadn’t been enough for her. She wanted them to stop, but they had gotten used to the benefits her luck had given them and had no intention of stopping.

The pills diluted the magical luck, so it only lasted for a few hours, but that was more than enough for the people who wanted to purchase them. They were in high demand, but her aunt and uncle needed her compliance to produce their product. At first, they tried to negotiate with her to help them since her blood had to be given willingly. They pleaded with her and offered a share of the money from the magical pills, but the whole concept disgusted her, so she refused.

Even when they accused her of being selfish for hoarding her luck, she hadn’t been swayed. It was her gift, which meant it was her right to determine how it was used. That didn’t matter to them, though.

Seneca found herself being held captive in the home she had once loved. Clara and Mark had even used her own blood against her in the magical wards that kept her locked inside the house.They had held her prisoner in a dark room and starved her until she had finally given in. She hated to admit it, but she’d wanted to give up. To let the grief and despair over what her life had become take over, but survival instinct was a tricky reflex to deny.

She wanted to live and had hung onto the hope that she could one day free herself from the hell she was living in.

That, and she hadn’t wanted to let them win.

In exchange for doing what they wanted, they had let her move back into her own bedroom. She was given small liberties like food she liked or access to streaming movies and TV shows to help pass the time, but those little perks weren’t enough to make her forgive them. Nor did it deter her from continuing to try to escape.

She tried to figure a way out, but her limited magical skills weren’t enough to break through the strong wards keeping her locked in.Because she had isolated herself from the world during her grief, she lost contact with all of her remaining friends, and she had no other family she could reach out to.

That meant she couldn’t count on anyone coming to save her.

Recently, her thoughts had started taking a much darker turn. She had never been a violent person or very vindictive. Even so, she understood that everyone had a breaking point under the right circumstances, and she’d definitely reached hers. Since they never gave her time to fully recover between transfusions, there was little she could do to fight back physically, but she could use stealth and strategy. She swore she would do whatever it took to stop them, even if it meant her death.

A few days ago, she’d gotten that strange feeling in her gut when her aunt and uncle had mentioned a new client they were trying to get close to. Always social climbers, they could never pass up the opportunity to kiss up to famous humans or supernaturals. They had often tagged along with Ethan and Claudia when they went to Hollywood parties and had even begged to go to a few award shows with them.

While Clara had more magical abilities than Seneca’s mother, she had always been envious of her sister’s success within the entertainment industry. To an outsider, it could have been considered nothing more than harmless sibling rivalry, but the reality was far more sinister than that.

There was no way Clara could do what she’d done if she truly loved her sister and, by extension, her niece.Her yearning for fame was an addiction that would never be sated, and Mark enabled her bad behavior with his own self-indulgence and desperate desire for wealth and adoration.

Now, on her twenty-second birthday, it seemed like Seneca was finally going to end up paying the ultimate price for their greed.

The sound of the door opening immediately caught her attention. She wasn’t able to move her head, but she did manage to glance toward the doorway to see a tall woman enter the room.

The woman was wearing a bright yellow sundress the color of cheerful daffodils and white heels that added a few inches to her already impressive height. Her short blonde bob was several shades darker than Seneca’s own long hair, and it was styled into curls that bounced as she moved. Her slick red lips were curved into a deceptively pleasant smile, and the color matched the tips of her pointed fingernails.

“Good, you’re awake.” The woman clapped her hands together like an excited child, her long nails clacking together in an awful sound. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but first, let me introduce myself since we will be spending a lot of time together from now on.”

It took a lot of effort, but Seneca managed to wheeze out two words that came straight from the depths of her soul. “Fuck…you.”

The woman tsked, and she wagged a finger as she came closer. “Now, now. Don’t be rude. My name is Whitley Dalkis, a witch of considerable spellcasting talent, and I will be hosting you for the foreseeable future. Of course, I already know who you are, Miss Lucky Charm. In fact, you’ve gotten to be quite famous within my circle of acquaintances.”

That sent a shiver of fear racing down Seneca’s spine.

“Well, at least your ability has,” Whitley amended with a chuckle. “Thankfully, I’m the only one who figured out the luck is coming from you. Trust me when I say you should be very glad about that.”

Whitley strolled over to the metal cart next to the medical bed and lifted a frilly white apron that had been hanging on the side. She put the apron on over her pretty dress, making her look like a perfectly styled housewife from a throwback era, ready to bake a pie, rather than a crazy witch intent on bleeding her dry.

She should have seemed out of place standing in the middle of the dungeon, but she seemed completely at ease in the dark, ominous space. The way she slipped on a pair of gloves before efficiently changing out the full blood bag for an empty one made it obvious it wasn’t her first time doing so. She had to have some medical training to be so proficient, or she’d had a lot of practice on other victims.

Either way, it was disturbing watching her work.

After removing her gloves, Whitley rolled a stool over and took a seat next to the bed. She smoothed her skirt down as she crossed her legs. “As you probably guessed, I previously purchased luck pills from your aunt. I was surprised by how well it worked, but it wasn’t difficult to decipher that magical blood was what actually made the pills so powerful. I am very good at mixing spellwork and chemistry. Much better than Clara, so I know I can make better pills if I tweak the formula using a stronger spell.”

Whitley reached out and stroked Seneca’s bangs back in an almost loving gesture. She wanted to cringe away but couldn’t move no matter how hard she tried.

“It’s useless to fight. There was a paralytic mixed in with the sedative you were given to get you here that hasn’t worn off yet. This room is also warded against magic, so there is no chance for you to escape. But don’t worry, you won’t have to stay down here for long if you behave. All you have to do is cooperate with me, and you can take your rightful place along with my other…helpers.”

Fucking hell, that meant this crazy witch had done this to others.

“I run a very lucrative business dealing in the magical black market. While some people fear dark magic, certain forbidden spells, hexes, and charms are in high demand. You’ll see that I can make your life far more comfortable than what you previously had with your aunt and uncle.”

The mention of Clara and Mark had Seneca wondering what had happened to them. For all she knew, they had probably sold her to Whitley for an exorbitant fee and were now on a cruise sailing around the Mediterranean.

“Oh, and I did you a huge favor by getting rid of your aunt and uncle for you. Really, you should be thanking me.”

Seneca wished she had the energy to curse the crazy witch out for that.

Thank her? Maybe if she wasn’t being bled dry in a freaking dungeon.

Whitley pouted and leaned forward slightly to whisper conspiratorially. “They weren’t very nice. But at least they are contributing to the ecosystem now. They are making excellent compost for the flowers in my garden. I even planted some new lilacs in honor of their contribution.”

Well, that answered that question.

As much as Seneca hated her aunt and uncle for what they had done to her, the way they had ended up still seemed harsh. No one wanted to end up being buried in someone’s freaking backyard.

Whitley wasn’t just a power-hungry dark witch.

She was a fucking murderous psycho.

“Now, I should get going. Oops, I almost forgot this.” She giggled as she stood up and lifted the bag of blood to take with her. “I have a lunch date with some friends, then I plan to spend some time in my lab. Don’t worry, I will be back down to check on you again in a little while. Rest well, my little lucky charm.”

As she sauntered out of the room, Seneca let out a relieved sigh. By the time Whitley checked on her later, she would already be gone.That thought should have scared the shit out of her, but she was too damn tired to worry about much at the moment.

Normally, she might have survived, but she had given Clara and Mark some of her blood the day before and hadn’t been able to recover yet. What her aunt and uncle had done to her was horrible, but at least they had taken the secret of her golden blood with them to the grave. If the blood wasn’t given freely, it wouldn’t work. That didn’t make up for everything they had done, but it ensured the crazy witch’s plan would never succeed.

If Seneca couldn’t escape, at least she got to have a final fuck you .

Closing her eyes, she lost herself in the weightless sensation that swept through her. It wouldn’t be long now, and she had finally accepted that escape was impossible. To pass the time, she tried replaying her favorite memories of being with her parents and best friend in her head. Soon she would be reunited with them, and that gave her great comfort.

If she had time, she would replay every minute she had spent with them in her mind. But now, even her most cherished memories were drifting away like trails of smoke, carried away by the wind until nothing remained.

She had finally reached her end.

Or so she believed.