Midlife Psychic (Blackwell Djinn Book 2)

by Nikki Kardnov

  “And you do it so well,” Poe countered.

  She rolled her eyes and left.

  Poe poured himself coffee from the carafe and watched Willa as she ate.

  Though he’d healed her, he couldn’t help but notice the dark smudges beneath her eyes and the bonier rise of her collarbone.

  “When is the last time you had a decent meal?”

  She shrugged. “I eat at the club, mostly.”

  “You can’t be serious.” That explained some of the weight loss but not all of it.

  Willa grabbed an orange from the bowl set in the center of the table. “Not everyone has a sacra familia to make them food whenever they’d like. Which is ironic, considering you don’t even eat.” She arched a brow, clearly challenging him.

  “I eat,” he said.

  She tore the rind off the orange one strip at a time.

  “What else is plaguing you, love?” He grew serious now. “Why are you caring more for your sister than yourself?”

  Poe genuinely wanted to know. He also knew it was none of his business.

  Since when has that ever stopped you?

  “Raina is my family. The only family I have.”

  “You’re making yourself a martyr. You should never sacrifice yourself for anyone else.”

  He could hear the echo of Cassie’s letter in his head.

  Don’t be afraid to sacrifice yourself.

  He was not afraid of sacrifice. He was, however, indifferent to it.

  “I am no one without Raina,” Willa said.

  “That is absolutely not true.”

  “Yes it is. She’s the witch, not me. She’s the powerful one. She has more potential than I ever did. She just…she needs direction.”

  He wanted to tell her that the first time he saw her, she was with her sister at Club Drav. He wanted to tell her that it was her he noticed first. He wanted to tell her that it was not power that attracted him to her, but the way she looked at him, like she was now, like she saw him.

  She saw through his bullshit and yet it was him she’d sought when in trouble.

  He wanted to tell her those things, but didn’t. She was clearly already under a great deal of strain. He didn’t want to cause confusion and give her the wrong impression.

  Willa broke the orange apart and bit into a wedge. Juice burst over her lips.

  Poe shifted on the bench as his cock hardened.

  He quickly looked away, away from her wet mouth.

  He took a sip of his coffee. The hot liquid served as a wakeup.

  If he survived this deal, it would be a bloody fucking miracle.

  Chapter 12

  WILLA

  Willa didn’t realize how hungry she was until there was food in front of her. After devouring the orange, she turned to her omelet and toast. Willa was no expert, but she was pretty sure the bread was homemade. It had a nice crunchy crust and airy, soft center.

  God, it was amazing.

  She didn’t want it to end.

  And the conversation wasn’t bad either.

  Poe surprised her.

  He was full of stories.

  He told her about the French revolution (he was apparently at court when it went down). He told her about meeting Van Gogh (“He was a melancholy man. Of course, now we know just how melancholy.”) He told her about living in the Caribbean during the reign of pirates (“Not surprisingly, I flourished there.”)

  Though she had finished her omelet long ago, she picked at her last piece of toast to keep him talking.

  She had known he was immortal. But she’d never considered what that actually meant. She hadn’t considered how history had been his reality.

  “What is your favorite thing you’ve ever done?” she asked.

  He leaned back against the booth, his hand curled around his coffee mug. A wrinkle appeared between his dark brows as he thought.

  “I actually served in World War II,” he said and Willa could have sworn he blushed, like he was embarrassed to admit it. “On the French side. I mean,” he held up his hand, “don’t be mistaken. I did not get my hands dirty. I was a spy.”

  “No way!”

  He smiled. “Is that so surprising?”

  “Mmm...actually, no. You’re charming and easy to talk to. I imagine those are qualities that make a great spy.”

  “And don’t forget good looking,” he said.

  “How could I?”

  His eyes glittered when he met hers. His smile turned lascivious.

  Willa’s skin tingled beneath his gaze.

  What would it be like to have Poe for a lover?

  Her cheeks heated up.

  Whenever she got embarrassed and the blood flowed to her face, it made her freckles stand out like polka dots.

  He must notice it.

  It was probably his intent all along.

  Oddie reappeared and Willa jumped back like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

  Oddie arched a brow. Willa sipped at her cold coffee.

  When Poe’s cell phone rang from his pocket, he dug it out and checked the screen. “I have to take this.”

  “I’ll wait here,” Willa said.

  He nodded before disappearing through the swinging kitchen door. Willa waited a beat and then followed Oddie into the kitchen’s main room.

  The kitchen’s workspace was massive but somehow also cozy. The cabinets were white, the countertops black soapstone. All of the appliances were commercial stainless steel and could feed an army in a night if put to the test.

  Willa went to the island and slid onto one of the metal stools. “What’s it like living here?” she asked because she really did want to know. The secrets Oddie must have about the Blackwells. Not that Willa was prying. She wasn’t. She just wanted the surface details.

  “It’s exhausting.”

  “In what way?” Willa asked. “Because it’s a house full of men and they’re messy? Or because the house is basically Versailles and you’re in charge of all of it?”

  Oddie tsked. “Versailles is 721,000 square feet. Blackwell House is only 28,000.”

  “Only. Also I’m impressed you knew that.”

  Oddie set both plates into the dishwasher rack and then dried her hands on a towel. “I overheard what you said earlier, that it must be awful to be stuck in this position for the rest of my life, but honestly?”

  She tilted her head and her perfectly curled ponytail swung behind her. “The thing I love most about this family is how loyal they are to one another and since moving here, several years ago now, I’ve been given the same. When you talk about family, you think loyalty is a given. You think your blood will always have your back. But that’s just not true.” Her eyes went distant for a moment. “Humans operate on a different wavelength. Our lifetimes are shorter, our fucks fewer.”

  Willa nodded. “I know exactly what you’re saying.” She knew all too well.

  Oddie came to the end of the island and leaned into it with her hip, her arms crossed over her breasts. “You got some fucked up family drama too?”

  Willa could still hear the sound of her bones breaking beneath her sister’s witchy command. “The worst kind.”

  “Is that why you’re here?”

  “Sort of. But I don’t want to entangle Poe in my drama. I’m trying to figure out the best way to wish for what I need without causing trouble.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about Poe. He’s seen his share of it.”

  Willa laughed. “It’s so weird...all of this. Yesterday I thought I knew who he was. Today, I’m realizing I know nothing.”

  Oddie returned to the dishwasher. “He likes to pretend like he doesn’t care about anything or anyone, but don’t let him fool you. He cares more than all of them. He just denies it better. He’ll give you good wishes, whatever it is you need.”

  With a press of her finger, the dishwasher churned to life. Oddie hung the towel on a hook next to the sink. “It was nice to meet you, Willa. I hope you get what it is you’re
after.”

  “Thank you. And it was nice to meet you, too. Thank you for breakfast. I guess I really needed it.”

  “No need to thank me.” She winked. “It is my job, after all.”

  Chapter 13

  POE

  Poe stared at his ringing phone as he left the kitchen and slipped into the parlor across the hall.

  He scowled at the screen. CALEB CORVIN, it read.

  Clearly Corvin had caught wind that Willa had come to Blackwell House.

  Poe tapped the screen to answer. “Yeah?”

  “I have a proposition for you,” Caleb said.

  Poe shut the pocket doors behind him. “I’m listening.”

  “Give me Willa and I’ll give you access to my collection. You can take one item. Whatever you want.”

  Caleb Corvin’s collection was infamous. It wasn’t often a human could amass such a huge wealth of magical and supernatural artifacts without getting himself killed in the process. Poe had never had access to it, but there must be an incredible number of powerful objects within it.

  But more powerful than his caeli? Doubtful. And that was what Willa had promised him.

  The more interesting thing was that Caleb was offering at all.

  Willa had told Poe her and her sister got in a fight about Caleb. So why would Caleb bargain to get her back?

  It didn’t make any sense.

  “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to do better than that.”

  Caleb was quiet for a moment. Then, “She offered you something better.”

  “She offered me exactly what I want.”

  “Your caeli.” Corvin inhaled. “I don’t know who your caeli is, but I might be able to find out.”

  Poe was no fool. That sort of bargaining chip was a valuable one. If Corvin really wanted to know something of that worth, he would have found out a long time ago if he really had the means.

  “Why do you want her back anyway?” Poe asked. “Aren’t you dating her sister? What do you get out of this?”

  “Will took something from Raina. Something that we want back.”

  Poe dropped into a leather chair in front of the library’s cold fireplace. “What was it she took?”

  Corvin laughed. “You of all people know why a man must keep some secrets.”

  Well this was getting more interesting by the minute.

  Caleb Corvin will bring chaos to your door.

  “You’re right. I do understand the necessity of discretion, but let me ask you this—is beating a young woman part of necessity? In order to regain an object? When she arrived here, she was suffering from multiple broken bones. You really think I’d just hand her over to you?”

  “Are you telling me you suddenly care about a human?”

  “I—” Poe cut himself off. He was about to say, I care what happens to Will, but admitting it would make him look weak.

  “I think we’re done here,” Poe said and ended the call with a hard tap of his thumb.

  He slid the phone back into his pocket and squeezed his eyes shut. He did not like mysteries. He never had. And this one was growing by the second.

  What was Willa hiding?

  What did she have that Corvin and her sister wanted back?

  It had to be some magical artifact. Likely it wouldn’t be of any risk to him.

  So why hadn’t Willa told him about it?

  He was determined to ask her, but when he returned to the kitchen, she was gone.

  As an invoked djinn, he could find his mark anywhere. All he had to do was focus on her and in an instant he’d left the kitchen and found himself at the back end of the garden tucked behind a row of hedges. Willa was there on a stone bench holding a clipped peony in her hands.

  She looked up when the air shifted around him.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” she said. “Has it ever gotten you into trouble?”

  “Many times. I once accidentally popped up in the middle of the Tudor court.”

  “How do you accidentally pop up in the middle of something like that?

  “I was drunk and overshot.” He laughed. “That was around the time they were burning protestants at the stake. You can imagine their reaction.”

  Willa’s eyes got wide. “Did they actually burn you at the stake? Can you even survive something like that?”

  “We don’t burn, but it does sting quite a lot.”

  “Oh my God. So what happened next?”

  “Clearly I was the devil, they said. Then they tried to lop off my head and since they did not have a runed blade to get the job done, they decided to chain me up and throw me into the Tower.”

  Poe looked out over the garden, at the peonies and the roses and the hedges. He squinted against the sunlight and tried to push back the sudden swell of memories. He tried and failed. The summer sun was no match for the chill that seeped into his bones as he recalled the windowless cell.

  He had not been invoked. He’d been trapped like a bloody human. One week went by. Then two. Three.

  No one had come to his rescue. Not his brothers. Not Red. There was no worse feeling than being surrounded by rock and vermin, with no escape in sight. Never had his immortality felt like a curse quite like it did while he wallowed in that hole.

  “What did you do?” Willa asked.

  “I tried charming the guards. I had hoped to make a bargain with one of them, but since I was already labeled the devil, they didn’t take too kindly to that.” He thought back to the moment his cell door was dragged open. The relief he felt. “It was luck, I think. Maybe a bit of charm.” He smiled. “One day, they just let me go.”

  “That sounds horrible.”

  “Oh, it was.”

  “I’m sorry that happened to you.” There were tears welling in her eyes.

  “Don’t feel sorry for me, love. I’m no saint.”

  She laughed and some of the warmth returned to him.

  “Enough about me, though. We need to talk about you.”

  She squinted up at him. “What about?”

  “Caleb Corvin called. He wanted to make a deal with me.”

  “For?”

  “For you.”

  She looked away and a lock of her cinnamon hair fell in front of her eyes. Poe had to fight with himself not to brush it back.

  “What are you not telling me?” he asked.

  “I’m trying to keep you out of the drama.”

  “I can’t help you if I don’t know the whole story.”

  With a sigh, she plucked a petal from the flower and rubbed it between her fingers.

  “Is it something to do with a vision? Or a reading? Maybe you have information about Caleb?”

  “No, nothing like that. My gift, if you can even call it that, is not that valuable.”

  “Then what?”

  She plucked another petal and let a breeze catch it. “Take me home first. Let me take a shower and get into some clean clothes and then...then I’ll tell you.”

  “All right. That sounds fair enough to me.” He stood and held out his hand. “This home you speak of—it’s not at the Corvin Compound is it?”

  She shook her head. “I have my own place.”

  She put her small hand in Poe’s. His chest tightened.

  He had never been the sort of man to become territorial, but right now he understood how a man could.

  Caleb hadn’t realized what a foolish thing it was, asking Poe to hand Willa over in exchange for a magical artifact.

  He couldn’t think of anything valuable enough to take her place.

  “I’m not sure where your home is,” he said. “But if you guide me, I’ll get us close enough.”

  “Do you know the Village of Shelby?”

  “That far? That’s several hundred miles away.”

  “If you take us to the corner of Cherry Street and Victory, we’ll be close. We can walk from there.”

  Poe nodded and with a pop of air, they were gone.

  Chapter 14

&nb
sp; WILLA

  A year ago, when Willa decided she needed to get Raina away from Caleb and the city, she’d found a tiny cottage just outside Shelby. She rented it on the spot. The landlord was a little, old German man who told Willa that if she liked the cottage enough, perhaps they could do a land contract in the future. Willa had had no credit at the time and that sounded like a good deal to her. She just needed to come up with a down payment.

  But now she realized, three hours from Blackwater and Caleb Corvin was not far enough.

  She’d have to let the cottage go, but it was the only thing she’d ever had that was entirely hers. She wasn’t ready to call her landlord to break the news.

  Once Poe took them to Cherry Street, they walked another mile to the cottage. It sat back from the dirt road nestled in between two old willow trees. Now, the branches were heavy with their viney leaves. This was her first spring with the house and she was enjoying seeing the place come alive.

  Wildflowers bloomed around the mailbox and in the flowerbed in front of the porch. The air smelled heavy with their sweet scent.

  “This is quaint,” Poe said.

  “It’s about the size of one of your closets.”

  “I like it,” he said.

  Willa looked at him. “Are you just saying that to be nice?” She picked the cottage apart with her eyes. She loved it because it was more than she’d ever had, but she couldn’t ignore the sagging porch roof or the missing shutter on the front window. There was a spiderweb crack in the cement driveway that weeds had sprouted through.

  “Despite what you may think of me, I have not always lived in a massive estate house. In fact, my first century of life was spent in a rambling stone cottage in Scotland. It was always damp and smelled like mold. But I loved it.”

  “That actually sounds really nice,” she said.

  “Perhaps I will take you there someday.”

  “You still own it?”

  He nodded. “An entire village sprouted up around it. The cottage is empty most of the time. There’s a Beaumont that takes care of it for us.”

  “I would love to see it,” Willa said, and then quickly reminded herself that she would likely never be in the position to travel halfway around the world with Poe.