Paranormal Magic (Shades of Prey Book 1)

by Margo Bond Collins

  What I wanted was Sandy.

  Sandy had always stood by my side, keeping me sane after my sister died and again many years later when we buried my older brother. She held my hand at my father’s funeral and again at my mother’s. Losing my brother and then my parents so close together nearly undid me, and Tom was no help during that dark period. He was too busy insulating himself from everyone after being kidnapped and tortured by a madman.

  Sandy kept me in line at a time when my world nearly fell to pieces. I couldn’t help but blame Steve, even though I knew it was only the proximity to the former FBI agent that got most of my family killed in that small span of time, it still didn’t stop me from feeling he was the cause of the catastrophe. The twist I never saw coming was my father becoming Steve’s guardian angel. Because of that, I could hear my father through Steve’s mind, and hearing his voice tempered my rage, but not the sense of loss.

  Sandy helped fill that void. She was there at every turn, even when her parents forbid her from seeing me. I breezed through college in two years instead of four and had to wait for her to graduate. The past two years seemed to stretch forever, but this spring, she would get her diploma and I planned to pop the question the moment she stepped off the podium.

  I hadn’t seen her since Christmas break and that disaster was still in the forefront of my mind. Her father had refused to let me in the house and, while I could have forced my way in, I didn’t; not with Sandy shaking her head and silently pleading for me not to make another scene.

  It was the first time she had truly given into her father’s will since she’d turned eighteen and it irked the hell out of me. I left her present in the driveway with the keys in the ignition; and I can still hear her father yelling for me to come get the god damned car as I trudged away from the house.

  It wasn’t my worst Christmas, but it came close. I hitched home on Christmas Eve and Sandy and I didn’t talk until New Year’s, when she was able to find the time to call without her father standing over her shoulder.

  This semester had been particularly tough to deal with. Her course load was insane and with a part-time job and an internship, it made it nearly impossible to catch more than a moment with her by phone and no luck at all with seeing her in person. She kept saying she’d let me know when she had a day off, but it’d been close to two weeks since we actually spoke, and all my messages garnered was a quick text response or an equally brief message in my voicemail box.

  I stared at the blood soaked snow and decided spring was too long to wait.

  I needed her, now.

  The wail of a third baby pulled my attention and I turned in time to see the little girl swaddled and placed on Naomi’s chest. Damian rattled off the names of the boys honoring the fallen angels, my father included, and I gave him a nod of thanks. When Damian and Naomi decided on the name Grace, for their little girl, my lips curved into a ghost of a smile.

  Chapter 2

  When we arrived home, the feds swarmed around us and the media had already pitched camp outside the gate. I traded a glance with Steve and pulled my keys out of my pocket.

  “I’m going to see Sandy.” I stepped toward the decimated doors of the garage, ignoring the chaos surrounding our home in Maine.

  Steve gave me a nod. “Drive safe,” he said before he turned towards his ex-boss, effectively dismissing me.

  I didn’t envy him; trying to explain the blood soaked family room and equally stained back yard was going to be difficult and I know the death of his old partner was something that would eat away at him for years. Instead of staying and helping, I bolted, leaving the four of them to clean up the mess. Sliding into my car, I backed it out of the driveway, away from the police and away from the cameras and microphones.

  As soon as I hit the highway and the silence descended, the previous night’s events hit like a tractor-trailer mowing through a stalled car. My eyes stung and my vision blurred, the road wobbled under the sheen of tears and I swallowed, forcing down the lump wedged in my throat.

  “Damn it." I swiped the wetness from my cheeks and pressed the gas pedal, tipping the speedometer into the territory of dangerous. By the time I hit the interstate 84 interchange, my tears had dried up, but my eyes still burned and the emptiness overtaking my soul still threatened.

  The rest of the drive into Hartford was quiet and I concentrated on breathing, on relaxing the coil that had tightened in the center of my chest. My head throbbed as I pulled into the visitor’s parking lot outside Sandy’s dorm at the University of Hartford. I took a moment and leaned my head on the edge of my steering wheel trying to get my emotions in check.

  I exhaled when I realize I’d been holding my breath and pulled the keys from the ignition, stepping out into the cool night. The slap of cold air cleared my head and I scanned the parking lot. I really didn’t want to have to wait for her in the lobby of her building, or worse, track her down at her job. It took two passes before I located her car and relief settled into my muscles, leaving me unsteady, like I’d had too much to drink. I closed my eyes, willing myself to shake it off.

  I was not in the mood for chatting with the resident assistant at the desk while I waited for Sandy to come sign me in, so instead of buzzing in as I had in the past, I silently commanded the doors to open and kept walking past the busy reception desk, like I belonged. No one paid attention to me and I slipped up the stairs, tuning out all thoughts accosting me.

  I didn’t bother knocking on her door, either, and when the wood swung open, I stopped, frozen in place with my hand on the handle. Sandy turned from her straddled position and gasped. Neither she, nor the guy she was riding, expected visitors and they certainly did not expect me.

  I couldn’t move. I just stared, dumbfounded, until my fingers tingled, reminding me that I hadn’t turned to stone. Reality set in and my heart tumbled to the floor, shriveling to a blackened husk. When I stepped into the room, the door swung behind me and closed with an ominous click.

  Sandy pulled the sheet around her, attempting to cover her naked form and that was the final trigger.

  A harsh laugh escaped, one that even I didn't recognize, and I crossed my arms. “So this is the reason you can’t seem to find time for me,” I said with a voice that was nothing more than a feral growl and Sandy’s face transformed into a mask of fear.

  “Chris... I,” Sandy started and turned her back for a minute, but she didn’t disengage from the man under her. In fact, I caught the look he traded with her, along with his thoughts, before Sandy turned back. The betrayal ran deeper than just a sordid fuck, it involved feelings, and when she met my glare, I knew it was over.

  The ache to strike out ballooned and my fists curled as the fury overrode all senses.

  “Don’t,” she yelled, twisting so she protected the bastard who stole her heart. Both her hands came up, and her wide eyes shot to my soul, fracturing what little reserve I had left.

  I snarled and clenched my teeth, letting the fury snake through my body, poisoning my blood until my skin burned. “You’re fucking kidding me. You’re protecting that shithead?”

  Sandy knew exactly what I was capable of and her fear blanketed me, stopping me from letting lose. Tears filled her eyes and she finally slid off him, taking the space next to him on the mattress. She pulled the sheet over her exposed flesh and nodded. “His name is Josh,” she said, like that made all the difference in the world.

  “You don’t need to protect me,” Josh said and started to sit up.

  I twitched, shooting a concentrated blast in his direction. Josh slammed back on the mattress with an audible ‘oof’. His hands flew to his throat clawing at my invisible strangle hold. The fear in his eyes sparked a smile and I suddenly understood the rush my father always spoke about. He was right. There’s nothing quite like scaring the shit out of someone.

  “Chris, stop,” Sandy yelled breaking through my concentration.

  I let go and Josh gasped for air, his features now holding the same layers o
f fear as Sandy’s.

  “What the hell are you?” Josh whispered.

  “I’m your worst fucking nightmare,” I said, borrowing my father’s favorite warning, and then shifted my gaze to Sandy. “Why?” I asked because I couldn’t figure out what this chump had that I didn't.

  “I didn’t plan on this,” she said, wrapping the sheet tighter. “It just happened.”

  “Do you have any clue how many girls I’ve fought off over the years?” I started and stopped, shifting my stance and glaring at the floor. “How many times I said no because of you?” I finished and met her teary stare.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  “Please, what?” I snapped. “Don’t kill him? Don’t make a scene? What?”

  “I should have told you,” she said.

  “Damned right." I crossed my arms again. When she made no attempt to explain further, I pressed my lips together against every callous response. When I was certain I wouldn’t dig into her and had a solid grip on the need to strike out, I pointed an accusing finger in Josh’s direction. “That’s what you want?”

  She nodded. “Yes,” she said in an almost inaudible voice.

  Disbelief swept through me, after all, I was CJ Ryan, heir to billions, a fucking Mensa-level genius, and I harbored enough psychic power to destroy the universe. I could offer her the world.

  What the hell could he offer her?

  The truth almost knocked the wind out of me. Josh could help patch up the rift Sandy had with her father. But knowing the one thing Josh brought to the equation that I couldn’t didn’t erase the pain.

  “Really? After all these years? This is how it ends?”

  She looked at the floor and then back. “Yes.”

  “Fuck you,” I snarled and leveled a deadly glare. It took everything I had to turn and walk out of her room without unleashing hell. A door opened when I was halfway down the hall.

  “Chris?”

  Her voice stopped me but I refused to turn, not with her thoughts parading through my mind.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This isn’t the way...” she trailed off and every muscle in my body stiffened.

  I didn’t need to ask the questions a normal man would ask. I got everything I needed to know from Josh’s thoughts and now Sandy’s weren’t hidden anymore, either.

  “I know you can see,” she whispered and I glanced over my shoulder.

  I could see everything that led up to this moment. Everything. The conflict, the fucking love she felt for that deadbeat. Everything.

  And everything crushed my heart to a pulp.

  “You’d better shut your mind off, because if I get any more of your insane narrative, I’m going to make this entire building implode,” I said, and I meant it. I needed to get away, now, before I lost control of the raging beast.

  I didn’t wait; the minute I hit the stairs I was in full flight mode and the cold air slapped my face a few moments later. I leaned against the cool bricks, counting breaths until my gaze fell on the student parking lot... and her car.

  The car I bought her and the anger leaped out before I could stop it.

  The explosion echoed off the buildings and I blinked at the damage. Her car was in pieces, burnt metal littered the ground, and the cars surrounding hers were now in flames. It felt good to destroy and I exhaled, letting out a laugh, thankful that the loss of control only annihilated a car and not the entire university campus. I forced my feet to move forward toward the adjoining visitor’s lot.

  My car couldn’t outrun the onslaught of fury. It couldn’t perform fast enough, not through the side streets of Hartford and certainly not on the highway. When lights and sirens appeared in my rearview mirror, I growled under my breath and considered doing the same kind of damage I did back at Sandy’s dorm. The only thing that stopped me was the damned moral compass my mother instilled in me. I have the same high regard for life that she had, and Steve, being a federal agent, just ingrained it further into me. It’s the one thing that separated me from my father and despite the disdain careening through me, I slowed my car, pulling over in the emergency lane and dropped the gears into neutral, setting the parking break before running my hands through my hair.

  I knew just how deep in shit I was.

  The cop took his time, radioing in the license plate before he finally approached the driver’s side door.

  I glanced out the window, meeting the officer’s questioning gaze.

  “Do you know how fast you were going?”

  I knew. The needle was buried beyond the 120 mark and I considered saying no, but I nodded instead. My jaw ached from being clenched, and I kept my lips closed against the flurry of sarcastic responses that begged to leap forth.

  His features hardened. “Please step out of the car,” he said and straightened, stepping away from the door with his hand on the butt of his gun.

  “I haven’t been drinking,” I said, sending a glare out the window.

  “Please step out of the car.”

  “Fine,” I muttered and stepped out.

  “Please put your hands on the car,” the officer said, his tone now stony.

  I had been hauled into police stations more than once and knew the routine, but this time, I was silent, unlike the times in Maine and New Hampshire when I was younger and rebelling against the world with Tom.

  After the officer patted me down, he stepped back, assessing me. “Please step to the back of the car,” he said after a few minutes of silence.

  I stepped to the back and waited for the sobriety test instructions. Walk in a straight line, touch your nose, and stand on one foot. I did everything the officer instructed until the officer crossed his arms.

  “Where’s the fire,” he finally asked.

  A tractor-trailer zoomed by, creating a breeze that ruffled through my hair and I met the officer’s stare. “Ever catch your girlfriend in bed with another guy?” I asked and the cop’s eyebrows rose. “I guess I let it get the better of me.”

  The officer rubbed his chin and chuckled. “That’s an understatement, son. I’m supposed to haul your ass in for the speed you were going.”

  I leaned against the car and shrugged. “Do what you gotta do."

  I really didn’t care. With what had transpired in the last forty-eight hours, a little jaunt in jail wasn’t the worst thing in the world and I almost laughed at the irony.

  The officer studied me closer, his eyes narrowing as a new thought dawned, and I rolled my eyes.

  “I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” I said before the officer’s thought fully formed. “I’m angry, and I took it out on the road. If you have to arrest me, go ahead. I won’t give you any shit.”

  The officer pressed his lips together; his internal debate broadcasting to me as if he was talking aloud. I waited, trying not to show my impatience or irritation at the pity blooming in the officer.

  I knew his decision before he opened his mouth and my muscles relaxed.

  “I’m going to give you a break,” he said. “But you have to give me your word that you won’t tear out of here like a bat out of hell.”

  I allowed a smile to form and bit down on the first snide remark that entered my mind. Instead, I nodded and said, “Thanks."

  “I’ve been there,” the cop added and snapped the ticket book closed. “Just keep it reasonable.”

  I turned and climbed into the driver’s seat, squashing the urge to spin gravel at the squad car. The officer gave me a pass instead of doing his job, which was rare, and judiciousness won out. I started the ignition and pulled onto the road, bottling up the anger.

  Chapter 3

  The house was quiet when I walked in, the drone of the television filtered from the back room and I slapped a lock on my thoughts, guarding them against Steve’s unfiltered mind probe. He looked up when I stepped into the family room and his brow scrunched, but I just kept walking, right out into the backyard, crossing through the bloody grass where Damian had annihilated a group of hellhoun
ds, to the rock wall at the far end of the lawn.

  I stood, staring out at the churning Atlantic, my jaw clenching and unclenching in concert with my hands. The anger overwhelmed me and my eyes darted for a source to aim at. Nothing suitable for destroying entered my field of vision and I let out a guttural roar, slamming my fist down on the flat slate rock.

  Pain snaked up my arm and I straightened, pulling my fist to my chest, blinking back the sudden mist covering my eyes. The agony of splintered bones tempered the fury and my chin dropped to my chest.

  A hand descended on my shoulder and I turned, expecting to see Steve, but instead Jennifer stood at my side. Her green eyes were soft with concern, enough so that when she pulled me into a hug, I allowed it.

  “Sandy called?”

  “She was worried,” Jennifer whispered in my ear.

  “I blew her car up,” I said and lay my forehead on Jennifer’s shoulder. The admission opened up the wall I’d built around the pain, and it nearly bowed me over. I was so consumed with anger that the reality of losing Sandy hadn't registered until now. Tears started and she just held me, stroking my back and whispering ‘shh’ as I cried.

  I shifted, knocking my hand against her and winced before pulling away. “I think I broke my hand,” I whispered and she dropped her gaze to the swollen appendage before giving me a nod.

  “I’d venture to guess you did, too,” she said.

  I wiped the sleeve of my jacket across my face, mopping up the damp tears before I sniffled and glanced out at the ocean.

  “Steve will fix it when you’re ready to come in.” She gave my shoulder a soft pat and stepped toward the house.

  “Jenn?”

  She turned, meeting my gaze.

  “Did she say why?”

  “No, honey. She just said you two broke up and she was worried about you.”

  “Broke up. That’s what she’s calling it.” I laughed and shook my head, turning toward the water. “It feels more like she put a butcher knife in my chest.”