by Rachel Shane
“I need someone with no magical ability to somehow put a curse on someone with the world’s supply of magic at his fingertips to steal. It’s insane. It’s impossible. It’s going to get us both killed.” She sighed. “But it’s the only way to stop him. A curse that will bar him from performing magic.”
Cole swallowed. It did sound impossible. It sounded like a death wish. “I’m in.”
Delilah bit her lip. “But I haven’t even told you the worst part. Kendrick McCoy is also my ex-boyfriend.”
CHAPTER TWO
COLE
Her ex-boyfriend. Cole laughed, the sound sharp against the cars zipping past Delilah’s house outside. It had the be a joke. But she wasn’t smiling.
His stomach wound up like a fist. Shit. “What—what does he look like?”
It was not only a simple question with a simple answer but key to the whole plan.
She shrugged and said, “I don’t know.”
He’d blinked at her, waiting for her laugh. A cracked smile. Anything but what she followed her statement up with. A deflection.
Instead she rammed a few keys on her laptop and twisted it to him, showing a photo of a young girl snapped for an online edition of a college newspaper. A headline read Honors Student Wins National Debate Tournament. She had stringy brown hair that hung limply to her shoulders. A nose that protruded just a tad too low and a tad too far outward, as if it was desperate to break free of all confines in any direction. She was short, slightly hunched over, and smiling in the photo like she wasn’t sure she could. Unibrow, una-boob, and acne pock-marking her face. She stood on stage, a podium to her right, wearing the stuffiest, most ill fitting business suit he’d ever seen. “Okay, why am I looking at some college girl posing on stage?”
“Look at the date of the article.” Delilah enlarged the view on the screen.
Cole leaned closer, breathing in Delilah’s flowery perfume. The article was dated seven years ago. “Do you recognize her?”
Something in Cole’s stomach squeezed, like he was taking a test in high school that encompassed his whole grade and he was about to fail. Part of the reason why he dropped out in the first place. The pressure. Not that poker was any better, but at least it paid him. He answered cautiously, already knowing what she would say in response. “Should I?”
Delilah scrolled up until the top of the article appeared, revealing the very first words. The name of the person. Britta Sinclair. Cole’s ex-girlfriend.
Cole gasped, leaning closer and squinting at the screen. No, it couldn’t be. Britta’s chin was squarer in this picture. Her eyes dark brown instead of ethereal blue. Her entire body frame looked squished instead of stretched out like it was now into long legs and even longer torso. Her perky breasts looked smashed and flatted in the photo. He clucked his tongue, shaking his head. “Right name, wrong person.”
“Did your ex-girlfriend go to USC?” Delilah asked.
“Well, yeah, but—”
“Is she originally from Indiana?”
“Sure, but—”
“Is she a witch?”
He laughed at that one. “Unfortunately, yeah.” He’d learned a few days ago that Britta was a powerful witch with a fascination for love spells. Especially the kind of love spell performed on Cole himself.
“This is what she actually looks like. The version of her you know—leggy, skinny, blond, gorgeous—it’s all a glamour. I suspected it when I first met her last week and performed a detection spell to confirm it.”
Cole’s mouth opened and closed. A glamour? “Well, that certainly seems a lot less risky than going under the knife for plastic surgery.”
Delilah smiled. “It’s actually not a difficult spell. It just needs to be maintained and reinforced every now and again. Barely takes any power. She probably doesn’t even break a nail doing it.” She paused for a second. “A real nail or a fake nail or hell, even a gel tip.”
Cole stared at the screen again. At the girl he knew for six months, slept with every night, but clearly knew nothing about. “Okay. So she uses a glamour. Whatever makes her happy, I guess. But let’s get back to Kendrick.” Why were they taking about Cole’s ex when it was Delilah’s he needed to learn about?
Delilah tapped a few more keys on her laptop, pulling up a photo of her smiling next to an incredibly gorgeous guy. Chiseled jaw with the perfect amount of stubble. Symmetrical features, the kind renaissance artists would have killed to paint or sculpt. Golden eyes that stared out at the viewer electrically. Blond hair tousled in a wind-swept, beachy way, looking effortlessly chic compared to his tailored suit. Cole’s stomach squeezed at the image of Delilah smiling so happily with another guy. Another guy who was far better looking than Cole ever would be.
Delilah pointed at the guy in the photo. “This was Kendrick, two years ago.”
Cole met Delilah’s eyes, finally understanding why she showed him the info about Britta. “But that isn’t what Kendrick looks like now?”
She shook her head. “I have no idea what he looks like. No one does. Ever since we broke up, he uses a different appearance daily, sometimes hourly, the way his security codes change.”
Cole swallowed hard. “So how am I going to know which one is him?”
Delilah laughed to herself. “I have no fucking clue. I told you, I’ve tried everything and nothing has worked yet. That’s why this is so dangerous.”
Fuck, Cole thought. “Is there some kind of magical detection we could use to—”
She shook her head. “His sensors will pick it up. Every year there’s a banquet that’s specifically designed to flag anyone in the tournament with a proclivity to magic. We can’t risk you being flagged. They’d find a way to eliminate you from the tournament if they…” Her face suddenly turned serious, draining of color as a thought occurred to her. A thought that clearly scared the hell out of her.
Cole’s body went on high alert. “What?”
She pinned him with a fierce gaze. “I figured it out. How we infiltrate him.”
Cole waited for Delilah to speak next. She seemed to be summoning the courage it took to relay the idea.
“You win the tournament. Fair and square. No magic at all.”
He blinked at her, waiting for the punch line.
“Every year, the winner is invited to a private dinner with Kendrick. It’s the only time he’s allowed himself to be without his guards since he already took all magical precautions to weed out threats and his security guards take non-magical precautions in the form of metal detectors and strip searches. That’s our best chance. The only chance.”
“So all I have to do is win the tournament?” Cole’s stomach was filling with more and more dread as she spoke. He’d been on a losing streak for months now and he’d suspected more than once that his luck running out wasn’t just a coincidence. It was a curse.
“Fair and square. No magic at all.”
Yep. This would be the death of him.
But then his mind rewound to something she just said. “Wait, so people with magic can enter the banquet without getting immediately killed?”
She froze. “Yes. It would look too suspicious if contestants started turning up dead. But last year there were three last minute drop outs and two people eliminated for cheating. It’s not a coincidence.” She squinted at him. “Why?”
“Then I’d say we found a loophole. I have an idea. But it involves you joining me at the banquet.”
She leaped up from the chair and paced the room. “I can’t be seen with you. I can’t be seen at the banquet period!”
“True on the former but not the latter. He won’t do anything to you in public like that. And you might help draw him out of hiding, even for only that night, even for only that face and body. But if we know what he looks like that night, we can eliminate anyone who doesn’t look like him that night. And more importantly, we can use that night as recon, suss out the other players. You can use magic to figure out their tells.”
It was cheat
ing, sure. But wasn’t poker all about tricking people into giving you their money?
CHAPTER THREE
DELILAH
After they concocted what little plan they had for recon, Cole got dressed, which was rather unfortunate. Delilah vastly preferred him without pants. She took her time getting ready, letting the hot steam of the shower soothe her sore shoulders. She had a scary, fleeting thought that this might be the last moment she felt truly happy. Her happiness might all change after tomorrow’s poker banquet. The only reason she was still standing today, unscathed, was because she’d actively avoided Kendrick’s wrath after their break up. But now she would be seeking him out, daringly strutting right over the invisible line they’d drawn across each other when they broke up. It could be her downfall, her greatest mistake.
Delilah followed the sugary scent of warm syrup into the kitchen where Cole slapped another pancake onto a white plate and sprinkled it with a little confectioner’s sugar, earning a squeal from his middle nephew, Isaiah, who clapped his hands in delight. Cole twirled, Delilah’s frilly flowered apron tied around him swirling like a skirt. He placed the pancake down in front of his other nephews with a dancing flourish, earning another clap.
In the doorway, Delilah let out a giggle at how sweet Cole was being to his nephews.
He glanced up and cha cha cha’d over to her with perfect ballroom dancing moves before taking her hand and yanking her in a twirl. He caught her in a low dip before leading her back upright and spinning her until she faced him. Cole wrapped one arm around her waist and clasped her hand high in the air, stepping forward until he forced her to step back as his hips swayed.
She fumbled over her feet, laughing. “Whatever step you’re doing, I don’t know it.”
He scoffed. “You don’t know how to waltz?! What kind of lawyer are you?”
She laughed. “The kind that went to law school. Not dance school.” She tilted her head at him. “When did you learn to dance so well?”
He shrugged. “Britta made me take lessons.”
Delilah grinned. “Ah, there’s the truth. You learned because you were whipped.”
“I believe term is cursed.”
“What’s a curse, Uncle Cole?” a little voice said.
Delilah and Cole froze, breaking apart in the middle of the kitchen.
“It’s a bad word,” Jonah whispered to Isaiah.
Isaiah looked utterly shocked. “You said a bad word?” His lip quivered as if this news rocked his entire world, robbing it of all meaning.
Cole strode over and rubbed Isaiah’s bushy dark hair. “Sorry, bud. I’ll give myself a time out.” Better to admit to uttering the F word than to the other kind of curse. The magical kind.
Isaiah looked even more dejected. “No! Don’t leave me!” He wrapped his little arms around Cole’s bulging bicep.
“I won’t. Ever. I promise.”
Delilah’s tongue hung thick and heavy in her mouth as she watched this exchange. Her entire body filled up with dread like a toilet about to overflow and spill all over the floor. Cole didn’t know it yet, but he’d just told a devastating lie. Cole had to leave them. Or rather, they had to leave Cole.
She cleared her throat, her legs feeling wobbly. “Cole,” she said, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of this immediately when they’d concocted the plan this morning. Blame it on the no pants. “Can I talk to you for a sec? In the other room?” She spun on her heels and fled the room, practically running. But she didn’t want the kids to see her start to hyperventilate. She placed her hand on the door jamb of her room to steady herself and gulped desperate breaths.
Cole ambled in a few seconds later, squinting at her as his face grew more and more concerned. “What’s going on?”
She turned to him with wild eyes, so much so that he scrambled back a few steps at whatever he saw in her expression. “You have to send them away. The kids. It’s not safe for them here.”
Her whole body coiled with pressure, a spring pressed down. Her stomach swirled with an enormous sort of guilt at her suggestion to send the three young children away, at least for a few days. They’d lost their mother to insanity less than a week ago and now they’d be losing the uncle who cared for them so dearly. But it was the only course of action that would keep the children out of harm. Cole had agreed to help her at any price, and this was the cost.
Cole shook his head frantically. “I—I can’t do that. They need me!” Their dad had died a few months ago and now their mom had disappeared in the middle of the night, strapped to a hospital bed in a locked room. He was their only family. He was the only thing to ground them.
But Kendrick was the most powerful witch Delilah had ever encountered. All the protection spells Delilah could produce wouldn’t guard the boys everywhere. At school. At friend’s houses. “Kendrick’s the equivalent of the magical mafia,” Delilah said, stroking the back of Cole’s neck, the dark strands swaying in the breeze of her hand. “Worse even because he doesn’t have to dump bodies in a river. He simply makes them vanish.”
Cole flinched at that and Delilah did too as a terrible thought rushed through her like bongo drums, banging on her spine until her whole body vibrated. Her voice was a cold whisper when she spoke next. “My parents’ car accident.” Images of their mangled bodies strapped to hospital beds, the heart monitors beeping low and faint, as if the batteries were dying. But it wasn’t the batteries. It was them. A car had come at them head on, out of nowhere. Witnesses didn’t even know how to describe it. One second their car was free on the road, a straight shot, and the next second a car appeared out of thin air and slammed into them. The other driver had died instantly. “It wasn’t an accident.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, taking desperate breaths to rid herself of the memories that followed, folding over her one after the other like a waterfall sloshing over her head until she drowned. Rushing back into the hospital room to find both beds empty, the nurses’ faces streamed with tears. Placing her hand over her forehead as she tried to make sense of what the police officer who took statements was telling her. It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. Except, of course, it did. The worst memory of all: charging into City Hall and finding the warm copy of the magical contract Kendrick had made with nature, now fulfilled. He’d orchestrated the entire thing with a wave of his palm and legalese, the language of witches. Anytime a witch casts a spell that goes against the very laws of nature, a contract is created and stored at City Hall in a special room only people with magical abilities can locate and access.
“Kendrick killed my parents.” Delilah’s voice hitched. A stray tear rolled down her cheek, betraying the tough chick persona she tried to perfect in front of clients. But Cole had already broken through her hard candy coating to the part where she was melting inside. He wrapped her in a deep hug, his hands strong and firm and holding her up. Ever since the car accident, she’d vowed not to get close to anyone. Not to risk it. Not to put anyone else in danger because Kendrick might go after them.
She let out a heavy sigh. “They can’t be here. Jonah. Isaiah. Noah. They can’t have any traces to me.”
Cole swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Okay.” His voice came out strained. “But just until we succeed. Ban Kendrick from his powers. So he’s no longer a threat?”
Delilah watched as Cole held his breath, desperately hoping. “Right,” she said, gritting her teeth to keep the strain out of her voice. Because she was already thinking of Plan B. What happened when they inevitably failed.
She’d have to let Cole go, too.
Delilah’s heart broke at the pained expression on Cole’s face as he bent down and placed his hands on his nephew Jonah’s shoulders.
“Listen,” he said. The eleven-year-old’s lip was quivering but he stood strong, trying not to cry. “This is only temporary. Just for a few days. Then I’m going to come get you and you’re going to live with me and we’re going to have so mu
ch fun.” He tried so hard to emphasize the last few words, inject some pep, but the words fell flat, plopping on the floor with a heavy kind of sound. Jonah’s face fell further.
“But I want to stay with you,” Jonah whispered, his voice full of pain and anguish.
Delilah cringed, looking away to stave off the guilt.
“You will! I promise!” Cole’s smile wavered and strained. “But Grandma really really wants to see you guys for a few days. Spend time with you!”
Jonah’s head tilted to the floor and he shuffled his feet. “Grandma always makes us go to bed early.”
“That’s because she loves you.” Cole kissed Jonah’s forehead. “Promise me you’ll be good for her.”
“If you’re good,” Delilah added, trying to save Cole from the way he was clearly drowning. “We’ll take you to Disneyland after.”
Jonah’s eyes widened with excitement and Cole sent her a glare. “I don’t usually resort to bribes.”
Delilah bit her lip. Whoops. Clearly she had a lot to learn when it came to caring for children. Her whole career was about breaking deals or making them. But clearly that wasn’t an appropriate strategy when negotiating with an eleven-year-old.
“But yes,” Cole said, committing to Delilah’s suggestion now that it was out, hovering in the air between them. “Disneyland.”
Jonah jumped up and down. “Yay!” He wrapped Cole into a giant hug. “You’re the best, Uncle Cole.”
This time, Cole gave Delilah a warm smile. Maybe her method wasn’t exactly sanctioned by Mommy blogs, but it had worked. And it had earned her the one thing she truly wanted—Cole’s respect. And his nephews to be safe.
The doorbell rang and Delilah opened it to find a plump woman with a halo of gray hair swirling around her head, clutching an oversized tote bag close to her chest as if she thought Delilah might try to pluck it from her palms. Her eyes traced every inch of her body. No wonder witches resorted to glamours. Delilah wished she’d taken the time to shave a few pounds off her stomach, slim down her thighs, and maybe reduce her breasts since Cole’s mother seemed to be staring at them as if they were the very reason her son was kicking his nephews to the curb.