by Anne Malcom
I’d already done the research the first time around and came up with nada but wasted time and a lot of ruined clothes from all the witches and vampires I’d had to torture to get the lack of information out of.
Thorne obviously didn’t give Sophie a chance to answer because he was, well, Thorne.
His eyes were on my witch. “Is this because of the curse?” he demanded. “Can you check?”
I rolled my eyes. “Sophie is not your personal magical general practitioner,” I told him. Then I winked at Sophie. “She’s mine.”
Sophie grinned back, then looked to Thorne, teasing glint in her eyes. Winding up temperamental alpha males was becoming one of our most favorite hobbies. “And I’m very expensive. You wouldn’t be able to afford me.”
I didn’t give Thorne’s head time to explode because I kept talking.
“We don’t have time to go on a quest to find out why Aunt Flow’s bitchy vampire sister came for a visit early,” I said. “There’s the small matter of the creepy prophecy, vampire-human hybrids, apocalypse, my so ex-husband coming back from the dead and aligning with my family to wipe me off the face of the earth.” I listed with my fingers, but I was going to start running out of them so I stopped. “Plus, I have a hair appointment next week I really can’t miss,” I added.
All this blood and turmoil had me thinking I needed a change. A blunt bob, perhaps. Though everyone was getting them now, and I wasn’t about to go with the crowd. Plus, my gloriously long amber locks were kind of my thing.
Thorne thundered, as he tended to do, crossing his arms. “Don’t give a shit. You come first,” he snapped, jerking me out of my hairstyle thoughts.
I glued my gaze to the way his biceps moved, my attention lingering there for a while until I dragged my eyes up his wonderful torso to his fury-ridden face. “I may think a lot of myself, and I do think I come before the elimination of many races who piss me off.” I looked to Sophie. “Werewolves, for example.”
She glared.
“But even I’m not narcissistic enough to believe I come before the apocalypse,” I continued.
“Yes you are,” Sophie interjected.
I ignored her. Mostly because she was right. I was arguing because I wanted Thorne to be wrong, not because he actually wasn’t. Of course I was more important than the end of the world. I was a fucking riot. My death would be the end of the world.
But of course I didn’t want Thorne to win this argument and have yet another reason to coddle me and try to protect me like I was some female who needed protecting. People—and immortals—needed protecting from me, not the other way around.
I had to try a different tactic. “You have a small, mildly annoying sister to think about in this equation,” I said to Thorne, aiming for those oh-so-vulnerable heartstrings. “You really want to toy with her continued survival for something as menial as this?”
He did not appreciate that. He communicated it mostly with a glare.
And he also threw a vase at the wall.
I frowned at the mess. “You’re cleaning that up.”
“Okay, okay, I was going to let this play out a little longer, but I don’t want to deal with Isla’s week-long bad mood at her apartment being ruined again,” Sophie said, pushing off the sofa and stepping forward.
I cradled my bottle to my chest as she approached me, thinking she was going to snatch my whisky.
She didn’t.
Thankfully for her.
She glanced at the diamond on my neck. She’d given me the necklace last week as a ‘congratulations for killing the big bad witch in the cave with the bad hair’ present.
“You know, that’s not just any diamond,” she said conversationally.
I scowled at her. “If you say it’s some manufactured bullshit, I will rip your hair out,” I promised.
She grinned knowingly, remembering the fate of one of my many suitors who had tried to win me with cubic zirconia. He had died slowly. “No, I wouldn’t dare.” She stepped closer to me, the air moving around her as she did, as she commanded the magic inside her. It seemed like the very molecules of the air itself were bowing down to her.
It was immediate and unnerving. My instincts somehow told me to run. My instincts never did that. Unless I was in the presence of power. Power not equal to mine.
Which had never happened.
Maybe when I finally made the visit downstairs to Hades I’d meet my match, but even then, he hadn’t caused as much trouble as I had. The only thing he’d done to win the kingdom of the damned was draw the short straw when he and his brothers were divvying out the realms to rule.
When you thought about it, he was only the warden to all the fun terrible people. Not exactly fun and terrible enough to be more of a badass than me.
But in the moment, I caught glimpses of something inside Sophie that was beyond anything I’d ever seen. Felt. And I’d seen and felt some shit. Most of it bad. Most of it the fun kind of bad. This was not the fun kind of bad. This was ‘level the earth and turn into a worse version of Malena’ kind of bad.
I really had to pencil in an exorcism for this chick, stat. Because there was a strange feeling that the end of the world wasn’t going to come about from Jonathan or any of his little experiments. No, it was going to come from inside my best friend.
But as mentioned before, I was somewhat narcissistic, so I was too focused on the beating of my heart and what it meant for me, and it took precedence over the apocalyptic witchy power inside my best friend and what it meant for the world.
Her fingers were glowing, crackling as she raised them toward the necklace. I had the urge to flinch away. I fought it.
Thorne’s heat was at my back in an instant as he sensed the power, the danger. His hands spanned my hips, as if he was preparing to yank me behind him. If he did that, it would not end well for him. I didn’t need protecting from anything, even my best friend and her creepy new powers.
“If this makes my hair frizz, I will not be happy,” I gritted out.
Thorne’s hands flexed at my hips, digging into the bone.
Sophie only smiled. And it wasn’t a Sophie smile. It was that absent, Stepford smile. Mechanical almost.
Creepy as all fuck.
I expected a shock, a surge of power when she made contact with the necklace. But there was nothing. Not a darn thing. Just a small vibration around the spot where the cool stone rested against my neck.
She stepped back, her eyes flickering like a lightbulb as she twisted whatever power she called on back into herself.
“What? No fireworks, explosions or some kind of head-twisting situation?” I asked, slightly disappointed—or relieved. I couldn’t decide which.
She smirked and it was less vacant than before. Power receded from the room like a tide, sucking itself back into the depths like it was never there.
Totally fucking creepy.
“We’ve taken care of one of the things,” Sophie said, voice husky but familiar.
I screwed up my nose after thoroughly inspecting the necklace. “You didn’t make it bigger, or more sparkly,” I whined.
She directed her attention at Thorne, who was still behind me, hands still clutching my hips as he expected Sophie to suddenly morph into Ursula the sea monster or something. “Listen,” she commanded.
Obviously knowing what she was talking about, his hand moved up my hips—not even copping a feel—and settled on my chest, laying his palm over top of my heart. He was listening for that vibration, and his entire body stilled.
I perked my ears up, but I was still getting used to the roar of this marching band in my chest. No wonder humans couldn’t hear properly. The stupid heartbeat got in the way.
I clenched my fists and wanted to punch Thorne for breaking that vase earlier. It was ugly and I didn’t like it—Scott gave it to me, and I didn’t have it in me to tell him that he had the taste of a ninety-year-old grandmother—therefore it was the only thing in the apartment worth breaking. Now I wanted
to break something and there was nothing to break.
Unless I wanted to start snapping bones.
Thorne’s body moved quickly—to the human eye, at least—and he was in front of me, his palm still flat against my chest.
I ignored the sliver of desire that came with his warm touch. I’d have to ignore that desire for at least a freaking year. A year was usually nothing more than a blink of an eye to immortals, but when you’re struggling with the female equivalent to blue balls, it felt like a freaking century.
That was in normal circumstances of before, when I hadn’t been drunk on that poison some people called love and I called Thorne.
It had been less than an hour and I was already feeling more tortured than I had the whole year on the island I’d banished myself to.
This was not going to be fun.
“Isla,” Thorne whispered, eyes glittering as they focused on mine.
“What?” I snapped, irritated that even his voice was turning me on. Why did he have to drip sex from his every pore? That was meant to be my job.
His head snapped to Sophie, palm still on my chest. “I can still feel it.”
She crossed her arms rather snippily. “Yeah, magic—even mine—isn’t going to be able to fuck with vampire evolution. I can’t stop her heart again.” She gave me a look. “Well, I can, but that would mean yanking it from her chest, and I’m guessing you wouldn’t be hot on that?”
Thorne gave a low grunt in the back of his throat that sounded disturbingly like a growl. He’d been around that werewolf for too long.
Sophie smiled, sauntering over to the bar to pour herself a shot. “Best I can do is silence the beating so no one, not even a vampire, can hear it. But they’ll feel it if they get close enough to touch her.” She downed the shot and poured another. “And the Isla I used to know would be fucked, since she was a massive slut and she’d have someone touching her chest every five minutes.” She grinned as Thorne’s muscles went taut. “But I’m thinking that won’t be the case this time around.”
“It fucking will not,” Thorne clipped.
I frowned. “You don’t speak for me,” I snapped. “If I choose for people to touch my fabulous chest, it will happen. It would be a crime not to share my gifts with the world.”
Thorne’s fury whipped around us, vibrating through me with our connection. “Let’s forget the portion of that statement where you’re getting a fucking beating for insinuating anyone but me is touching your chest—”
“I didn’t mean it in a sexual way, honey,” I interrupted with irritation. “People generally touch my chest for my fabulous bosom, yes, but a lot also do so because it has great access to my previously non-beating heart and a great way to try and kill me.”
For some reason, that didn’t placate him.
But I wasn’t focused on him anymore.
Well, my lady parts were.
My eyes went to Sophie, who was downing tequila like it was the end of the world. That wasn’t until at least next week, and I wanted to make sure my bar was stocked. She owed me a case of Patron, I decided.
I fingered the diamond. “Are you telling me that this can erase the sound of my beating heart to all supernaturals?”
Sophie nodded once. “As long as you keep it on. I know it’s a drag not changing up the accessories, but it’s classy as shit and will go with almost any outfit.”
She was right. The chain was dainty yet strong, fine gold that dipped just above the beginning of my cleavage, a large, princess-cut black diamond in the middle surrounded by a cluster of smaller ones.
It was pretty fucking awesome.
But that didn’t take away the fact that Sophie had ulterior motives when giving it to me. I was all about ulterior motives, but my bestie was supposed to share them with me.
I fingered the stone and glared at her. “And you knew this the whole time?”
Another nod.
“And why didn’t you tell us from the start, instead of just watching us argue?” I snapped.
She grinned and shrugged. “It was more fun to watch you argue.”
I thought on it and reasoned that I couldn’t really argue since if it was her and the wolf, I would’ve bought one of those foam fingers and a bucket of popcorn. “Fair enough,” I agreed. Then I thought on it some more. “How have I not heard of this spell?”
If I had known about it the last time around, things wouldn’t have been as dire as having to find an island off the coast of Fiji where not one supernatural creature lived and where my parents wouldn’t think of looking for me—amongst humans.
It was horrible.
I knew everyone’s names, no matter how hard I tried to forget them. People smiled at me and waved even when I scowled and ignored them.
And I obviously couldn’t kill them since the island was small enough to notice a large string of murders, which kind of defeated the purpose of me lying low.
Knowledge of this little necklace trick would’ve saved me from having to endure so many social niceties. Plus, any new jewelry was welcome.
Sophie’s face went guarded, strange and a little unnerving. “No one has heard of it,” she all but whispered.
I stared, then grinned. “Are you telling me that I’m the first one to test-drive it? Awesome!” I put my fingers up in a ‘rock on’ sign and swigged my whisky.
Thorne, as usual, was not impressed. “So Isla’s your guinea pig?” he demanded, murder in his eyes.
“Chill out, macho man,” Sophie told him, rolling her eyes. “I’m kind of fond of the mouthy vamp, so I wouldn’t use it unless I was like sixty percent sure it wouldn’t kill her.”
Thorne stepped forward and I didn’t stop him. It was nice not being the focus of his misplaced fury. Sophie could handle it.
She held up her hands. “Joking,” she said, pausing and looking from me to Thorne before doing another shot. The bottle was half empty now. Witch had a monster tolerance. “More like eighty,” she rectified.
Thorne’s hands turned into fists as he continued to glare at Sophie.
I sighed dramatically. “Stop. I only like fights when I’m involved or it’s people I hate and one or both of them are bleeding,” I interrupted, stepping forward. “I don’t quite hate either of you. We have a more pressing subject at hand. Just because we can hear no evil does not mean no evil exists. And trust me, you’re going to get a whole new education on evil being around me when I can’t get laid.”
Thorne narrowed his eyes.
Of course.
When didn’t he these days.
He really needed a spa day or something.
“Well, I may be able to help with that too,” Sophie interjected.
I gazed at her in wonder, excited at the fact that I wouldn’t have to find a small country to pillage in order to take out my sexual frustration. “Really? Don’t tell me I have to dance naked in the desert or go to a Justin Bieber concert. I mean, I’ll do it, but just don’t make me.”
She grinned. “You already did one of those things. Last year, if I’m not mistaken.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’d just drained a human who’d pretty much overdosed on MDMA. I wasn’t in my right mind.”
“You’re never in your right mind,” Sophie countered. Not that she was one to talk. She’d been there too, just as naked as I was.
“Touché.”
“Well, I’ll make sure you never have to go to a Justin Bieber concert, at least,” Sophie continued, taking one last shot.
I let out a breath. “Thank Hades.”
She put down the tequila, less than a swig in the bottle remaining. “But I’ll have to pop down to Mexico to get some ingredients.”
I nodded. “I’ll come,” I immediately decided, then clapped. “Margaritas!”
Thorne gave me a look. “You can’t go to Mexico.”
I scowled. “Why the fuck not?”
His jaw ticked. I wondered if he was going to get tired from directing all the testosterone all over the apartmen
t. “There’s a mute human from a witch’s cave in the next room, you’re fighting a revolution, your previously dead husband is heading it, and he and your mother alternately want you killed or captured,” he clipped.
I rolled my eyes, hating that he had a point. “You never let me have any fun.”
He raised his brow. “We survive this, you can have all the fun you like.”
I perked up. “Can you do a load of MDMA and then let me drink your blood?”
He shook his head, smiling. It was a welcome change to all the fury. It was hot, yes, but also exhausting.
I still frowned at the smile and the head shake. I didn’t know if that was a yes or a no.
“How is the human, anyway?” Sophie interjected. “I obviously haven’t gotten anything from Malena about who she is on account of having cut her tongue out.” I didn’t miss the way her face hardened slightly when talking of the witch. She hid it quickly, but not quickly enough for me.
“You cut her tongue out and didn’t invite me?” I whined, not choosing now to be the moment to command Sophie have a heart-to-Jägerbomb with me.
“It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing,” she said. “I was trying to interrogate her, she tried to utter a spell to explode my heart, so I had to think on my feet.” She shrugged.
I nodded sadly. “Yeah, I would’ve done the same thing. Sucks I didn’t get to see it, though.” I mentally added an extra ten years of torture onto the witch’s itinerary in Hell if Hades was taking requests. No one fucked with my friend.
Sophie smirked. “Well, it’s only been a hot minute since the whole Russia thing, and you’re a busy vampire,” she pointed out.
I sighed. “I’m a high-powered CEO who has to fight an apocalypse in her spare time. There’s not a moment in the day I have to myself.”
Thorne stared at me. “You took a three-hour bath last week,” he commented dryly.