Read Tales of Aradia The Last Witch Volume Online

Authors: L.A. Jones

Tags: #vampires, #urban fantasy, #love, #humor, #young adult, #young love, #supernatural, #funny, #witches, #werewolves, #witch, #fairies, #free, #shapeshifter, #teenager, #fae

Tales of Aradia The Last Witch Volume

 

Tales of Aradia The Last
Witch

Volume 2

Written by L.A. Jones

Edited by Harrison Bradlow

 

I dedicate this book to my Aunt Chrissy and Uncle
Steven Pressfield: the author of the Legend of Bagger Vance and the
War of Art. Their faith and belief in me when it came to my writing
has brought me this far, and with the guidance and strength that
they give me every day I know will take me even further.

Copyright L.A. Jones 2010

Published at Smashwords

 

This eBook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to
other people. If you would like to share this book with another
person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

Chapter One

 

 

"Master Maurice, breakfast is ready!"

Maurice kicked off the sheets of his bed. It was hot
and sticky, but that was to be expected. It was getting close to
June so the humidity from the summer was sure to follow.

And summer means summer parties.
Maurice
smiled to himself as he threw his dressing robe on and slipped on
his slippers.
Summer parties means girls looking for husbands.
Eager, pretty, plump and pleasing girls. I may be too young to get
married but they don't know that and what they don't know won't
hurt them.
He chuckled to himself as he walked out of his
room.

The halls to the manor were long and pearly white
that almost seemed to shimmer when the slaves opened the windows.
It was seven am but the slaves had been up since three. There were
a lot of things to be done on a Mississippi plantation and not just
in the manor. The fields, the cotton processing, and so much
more.

It's a good thing we got so many slaves to do it for
us. Hell, if we had to do all this ourselves the cost of workers
alone would be staggering. Thank God for heathens and free
labor.

He chuckled even more as he finally entered the
dinning room.

His father was already at the head of the table and
dressed for the day. Wade, his twin, was also already seated as
well and munching his eggs greedily. Two male slaves dressed in the
family livery stood near the kitchen while a few female slaves
catered to the table. His father frowned which always made Maurice
laugh.
I can't help it. What with his thick mustache and pale
complexion...he looks like a painted puppet.

"What's so funny, dear brother of mine?" Wade asked,
his mouth full of egg.

His father frowned even deeper. "Honestly children,
didn't your mother raise to behave like proper southern
gentlemen?"

Maurice sat down as a female slave rushed forward to
pile food upon his plate. "We are almost eighteen Papa. We are not
children anymore."

"Then stop acting like them!" His father snapped
sharply. He then turned back to reading the paper.

Maurice turned to eat his breakfast. Out of the
corner of his eye, he saw his brother stretch out his arms so his
hand could deliberately rest on the slave girl's waist. Her eyes
flew open, but she didn't budge. Wade seemed encouraged by that and
started to grip her middle.

Maurice shook his head and shot a sideways glance at
his father. Wade just rolled his eyes and then started to reach
with his other hand towards the girl's bosom.

She stiffened, stood up, and shut her eyes. His hand
now mere inches away, Wade's smile became more like a lecherous
grin.

His father, eyes still on the paper, flipped a page
and snapped. "Wade, if you feel a need to associate yourself with
filth like a slave woman I suggest you do it privately. Southern
gentlemen do not fondle their mistresses at the table." With a wave
of his hand, he dismissed the girl who curtsied and eagerly rushed
away.

Wade, his grin now gone, returned begrudgingly to his
breakfast.

Maurice had half finished his before he noticed
something amiss. "Where's mother?"

His father sighed deeply. "She's not feeling any
better today."

Maurice's ears perked up a bit. "Can I go see
her?"

His father shrugged. "After you change into proper
clothes."

 

"Maurice, my son! How lovely for you to visit me
today."

Maurice grinned as he looked at the weakened southern
lady laying in the big fluffy bed. Her once shiny and wavy brown
hair, lay limp about her shoulders. The bloom was gone from her
cheeks, her blue eyes dull as marbles, and her lips chapped.

She looks old,
Maurice thought. Yet he still
rushed towards his mother with open arms as if she was still the
most beautiful women in all of the South.

His mother, Antoinette Le Roux, in her younger days,
had been considered the belle of the south. The most exquisite and
richest woman of the age. Heiress to a vast plantation fortune with
a beauty to match. His father had had more than enough competition
for her hand and yet he proved once for all the family motto: "A
McAlester never loses."

Story of my life.
Maurice chuckled.

"You are much too thin Maurice," his mother tsk-tsked
at him. "Are you ill?"

Sound hilarious coming from you.
"No Mother, I
am fine. I was just coming to check on you."

He then flashed his dashing smile with the twinkle
sparkling in his eye. It was this look that won over many a woman
in the South. This, however, was his mother he was smiling at.

She sighed, "what do you want now?"

Maurice drew back. "Why mother, I don't know what you
mean."

She folded her thin arms and half-smiled. "You only
'come to check on me' when you want something so how much do you
want?"

Maurice tossed his head casually. He thought this
would add a bit sincerity but his mother just stared at him. He
then signed and held up two fingers in a rectangular fashion. "Just
a little."

She laughed softly and pointed towards her dresser
drawer. He eagerly bounced up from the bed and pulled out the lower
drawer. He pulled out the cash and counted it. "Thank you
mother."

She smiled. "Anything for you Maurice."

He nodded and was about to leave. After one glance,
he went to his mother's side to kiss her cheek. She smiled even
wider but Maurice hardly noticed. He turned on his heel and
left.

Now
, he thought to himself,
to buy some
gifts for my ladies.

 

It hasn't been easy but Maurice was finally able to
corner Amelie in her Uncle's library.

Her Uncle had been the first to throw a party for the
summer season and she was visiting for only a couple of months.
Maurice couldn't have begged for a better opportunity for
seduction. He had met her a couple of weeks ago at a Polo match.
She wasn't really anything special, plain black hair with a
rectangular face and pointed nose but she was young and she was
naive. He had to move fast before rumors about him reached her
ears. Isolating her from her friends had been hard but doable. He
had showered with compliments, walks in the park, tea times, and
gifts. The crystal blue necklace, however that he had bought on
sale in town was what would be the turning point. His chance to
complete his game.

"Oh Maurice, it's beautiful!" Amelie gasped as soon
as she saw the necklace.

Maurice grinned as he dangled it in front of her.
"May I put it on you?"

She nodded eagerly and turned around. Her hair was
already up in a bun so all she had to do is stand still. Maurice,
with a great flourish of his hand, placed the crystal blue necklace
slowly at the base of her throat. He made sure his hands touched
her flesh as the silver chain went around her neck. He took his
time doing the clasp and grinned when Amelie developed goosebumps.
She giggled as he finally did the clasp. He then placed his hands
on her shoulders and slowly kissed her neck.

"Oh Maurice Ma' cheré. I cannot wait until we are
married."

Maurice's tongue slowly flicked out to caress her
skin. "Neither can I."

His hands slowly made their way down her dress.

Amelie giggled. "No Maurice, we must wait until we
are married."

Maurice sighed, his chin resting on her shoulder
blades. "Amelie, I talked to my father and you have talked to
yours. They both have given us their blessings. We are as good as
married. So why wait to consummate it?"

"But Maurice..."

He sighed heavily and spun Amelie around. He silenced
her protests with a kiss.
God I love virgins. They long for a
man's touch so desperately that they practically melt like a candle
wax. It makes them so easy to manipulate.

Amelie tried to protest but her words got lost in her
moans of pleasure.

"Do you want me?" Maurice whispered in her ear.

"Oui! Oui!" Amelie gasped.

Maurice chuckled. "I will take that as a yes."

They then fell back leisurely on the couch.

 

Two hours later was when they both left.

Amelie whispered something in French to him.

He nodded, understanding every word. "Until tomorrow
my love," was what he whispered back.

She giggled as she rushed away. She had expected him
to follow her, which he did but only half way. He quickly exited as
soon as he saw the door leading out into the garden.
Thank God I
know this place so well.
He chortled under his breath.
But
of course because I had seduced Mr. Pierre's daughter just last
summer. In the same room too.

It was all he could do from laughing out loud.
Women! They are so easy! It's almost sad.

He leaned against the house before reaching into his
breast pocket.
Thank God in spite of our tumble I still managed
to hang on to my snuff box.

He snorted heavily and leaned his head back. He
listened to the sounds of the Bayou and the insects while letting
the satisfaction wash over him.
She obviously doesn't do much
traveling to honestly believe her father would get her letter by
now. However, that was kind of the point. Mind you, the moment her
father gets it he will probably freak out considering all the
rumors his brother has heard about me. I will probably be banned
from their parties forever. Oh well, who cares? After deflowering
all his daughters and now his niece there's no challenge
left.

And besides
, he thought with a malicious grin,
after my father is done with him. The value of their estate will
go down dramatically so why bother looking at any of them
twice.

He laughed again before hearing some rustling in the
bushes.

"No please Mr. McAlester. Not here."

"Shut up you little dark bitch! Keep your mouth shut
if you know what's good for you!

Maurice then heard something that sounded a lot like
a slap.

"Stop sniveling!"

Maurice crept towards the sound and heard rustling of
cloth and materials. There on the white stone path between the rose
bushes was his twin holding down a whimpering slave.

 

"What do you think you were doing?" Maurice snapped
as he barreled into Wade's room.

His twin stood in front of his mirror stripping off
his bow tie and jacket. He paused to admire the finger nail
scratches left on his cheek. "Hmm, she was a strong one."

Maurice tapped his foot.

Wade glanced over his shoulder. "What?"

Maurice folded his arms and leaned against the
doorway. "I asked you a question, what do you think you were
doing?"

Wade cackled as he shed off his shirt and took his
jacket to the closet. "Having some fun brother dear."

"With a slave?" Maurice added with disdain dripping
from his lips.

Wade cackled again as he flopped onto his bed.
"Slaves are so much fun Mo, especially slave women. The real smart
ones just do what you say but the other ones...now those could use
some taming."

He slowly licked his lips. "Come to think of it,
taming them is fun too!"

Maurice slowly exhaled a breath through his nose.
"Slaves Wade? You are screwing around with slaves? Why? Why
associate with such filth? A man of your standing? When you can
have any woman you want."

Wade laughed. "Lots of southern gentlemen have slave
mistresses brother dear, we know that better than anyone. After
all, our father had a slave mistress."

Maurice grumbled. "Don't remind me." He still
remembered the humiliation he had felt when he found out.

Wade laughed at his brother's uneasiness. "Let me
tell you something about slave women Maurice. They are nothing more
than property. They have no rights or anything, which means you can
rape them, beat them, or even cut their hands off and there's
nothing they could do about it. It doesn't matter what you do to
the slaves and their women because they can't fight back. I once
raped a slave woman who I know was married. She threatened me and
guess what I did? I told her if she told anybody not only would I
order her husband to brought in so he could watch but I would also
sell him another trader. Her children too! You should have seen her
face it was priceless!"

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