King of the Asheville Coven (Winterset Coven #1)

King of the Asheville Coven (Winterset Coven #1)

T.S. Joyce




Chapter One


“All units, automobile accident, ninety-two and Quail Ridge.” The voice over the intercom called over the alarm.

“About time,” Aric Teague muttered as he threw his crappy poker hand down on the table and jogged after the other two firefighters on shift tonight.

Chief Lang was already in the turnout room handing out gear. Aric readied in a daze, his muscle memory remembering everything he needed to without much mental attention. His head was somewhere else. It was already on the automobile accident on ninety-second and Quail Ridge.

Dressed in the heavy gear, he bolted for the passenger’s side of the fire engine. He pulled himself up, only to be yanked back down. “You’re the new guy on the truck, vamp,” John ground out. “Get in the back.”

Vamp. Aric barely had resisted the urge to crawl into the *’s mind and make him piss himself when John shoved him roughly toward where Nick was climbing in the back of the truck.

He missed Asheville.

With a low hiss in his throat, Aric climbed in the back and ignored Nick’s dirty look and muttered curses. As Chief hit the gas and turned onto West Court Avenue, Aric busied himself making sure his radio was working and his gear was fastened. John bitched on and on about why Chief had approved a supernatural for the house.

“Because we have to consider all applications, John.”

“So it’s fair that he gets to only work night shifts, while we have to work twenty-four-hour shifts away from our families?”

“He might have a family, too, and supes work different than us.” Chief Lang was being overly patient. Aric’s last fire chief would’ve told John to get over it and quit whining already. Aric got it, though. He was new to the house, and he’d shaken up a routine they had all been used to.

“And when he gets hungry during a call? When he sees the blood and goes on a killing spree? He probably eats little babies—”

“Enough!” Aric yelled, fury blasting through his veins. “I’m fine on calls. I’ve worked this job for a decade and have never tasted a drop of any of the victims. Go do your f*cking research online and keep your pissing and moaning to yourself. And no, I don’t have a family. I have a coven under me. Tread lightly with how you talk to me.”

“You’re a king?” Chief asked carefully over the blaring of the sirens. “You should’ve told me that on your application.”

“What difference does it make?” Aric added darkly as he watched the small town of Winterset blur by the window. “You and I both know you had to hire me.”

And it was true. Twenty-five years ago, shifters came out to the public and fought for their rights. Vampires came out soon after. Supes, as the humans liked to call them, had to be considered for the same jobs as humans now. Aric got through the door of the Winterset Fire Department based on what he was. Now he had to prove he was an asset to this truck by showing his crew who he was.

God, he missed his old life. He missed the Bryson City Fire Department and the guys he had worked with there. He missed the way his coven used to be before he had to force his people to flee the wrath of the Bloodrunner Crew.

As long as he lived, he would never put his coven in danger from another crew of shifters again. He winced as he rubbed his forearm, still sore from his last encounter with Harper Keller, the Bloodrunner Dragon. She’d shoved his arm in the sunlight and threatened to wage war on all vampires. Crazy fire-breather probably would’ve done it too. He should’ve killed her and claimed all her territory.

Instead he was in f*cking Nowheresville, Iowa with a pissed-off coven under him and an acute hatred for these ball-busting idiots on the truck.

A police cruiser was already on the scene up ahead, and Aric muttered a curse when he got his first glance at the wreckage. The older model, black SUV had careened off into a deep ditch and was on its side. Beyond, there was only darkness, which meant the car was being propped up by something he couldn’t see from here. It must’ve rolled because the driver’s side door was caved in and a mess of metal.

“Jaws of life…” John was saying into the radio, but Aric was already bolting from the truck. The smoke billowing from the engine said they didn’t have that much time.

“Help me!” the police officer yelled. “Hurry!” He was standing on the toppled SUV, straining against the door.

Shit. Aric slid down the steep ditch, dislodging leaves and earth as he went. The others were yelling behind him, but f*ck it. They could get their equipment. Aric had something better.

He began to climb onto the SUV, but it rocked dangerously backward. Too much weight. “Get off!” he ordered the officer. “We can’t both be up there, or it’ll start rolling again.

“It’s only propped up by a couple of trees,” he said as he climbed down, his face pouring with sweat. “Just saplings holding her up.”

Her. Damn, he hated when he lost women and children. Stop it. She could still pull through. You haven’t even seen her yet.

One look inside the shattered window, though, and his heart dropped to the ground. He’d been able to smell the blood from the fire truck, but seeing the gore was a different story. Her hair was such a light shade of blond, it almost looked silver. Her long tresses were curled on the ends, and she wore a dress as though she’d been going somewhere nice. She was completely limp, held in the driver’s seat by only her seatbelt.