Wicked Magic (7 Wicked Tales Featuring Witches, Demons, Vampires, Fae, and More)

by Deanna Chase

  She wanted to know things were going to be okay between them. He wasn’t mean or angry, but he was distant. Almost like he was hurt.

  Which hurt her worse.

  Flint smiled. “Really?”

  His eyes bugged. “Are you seriously asking that? Did you look at yourself in the mirror?”

  Rolling her eyes, she held out her hand as he slipped on the rose-bud corsage. It was pretty and delicate with baby’s breath sprayed around it. It looked really good against the black dress.

  Her dad smiled. “Well, look at you. My baby’s all grown up.”

  Snorting, Flint patted Abel’s vest, smoothing the edges down. “You look nice too.”

  In fact, he did.

  Crazy, but every day now it seemed he was filling out more and more. He wasn’t Cain size, but he was halfway there. And now that he was thicker, it was easier to see the resemblance between the two. His smile was so wide, and for a second she envied him.

  Abel had no clue what was planned tonight.

  She wished she didn’t either.

  “Okay, well… don’t be too late.” Her dad nodded at them.

  Katy came out the kitchen soon after and breathed a “wow.”

  Nodding, grateful her father wasn’t a picture kind of guy, she made for the door. Abel helped her put her jacket on.

  “You don’t want pictures, Frank?” Katy asked just as Flint put her hand on the door.

  “No.” She shook her head. “We don’t do that.”

  “Yeah, actually, I should, huh?” Her father finished as if she hadn’t said anything. “Just a sec.” He held up a finger and jogged to the back room.

  Abel took that moment to lean in. He smelled really good. Like lemons and aftershave. “Love the heels, Red.”

  “Red?” She eyed him hard. “Since when did you start calling me that?”

  He waved a hand down her body. “Flint, seriously… My brother is stupid. He’ll regret it the second he sees you.”

  Stomach writhing, she gave him a tight smile. He had no idea just how much Cain was regretting it at the moment. Placing her hand on his arm, she dipped her head, quickly brushing a fat red curl away from her eye. “I’m really glad you asked me, Abel. I’m not getting all mushy and stuff, but I’m really glad I bumped into you that first day at the locker.”

  His grin was huge, his dimple bigger. “Me too.”

  “By the way, I noticed you’re not wearing the sling. You all better now?” She squeezed his arm.

  He frowned thoughtfully. “Like new.”

  “Okay, say cheese.” Holding up a silver camera, her dad barely gave them enough time to smile before the lights snapped.

  “Dad!” Flint rubbed her eyes. “Little warning.”

  He chuckled. “One more.”

  “No.” Giving him a sweet grin, she kissed his cheek instead. “I’ve got to hurry and make sure I check in with Mr. Wickham. Let him know I’m there if he needs anything tonight or whatever.”

  Nodding, he hugged her back, then glared at Abel. “Be good. I mean it, young man. I know where you live and I know your mother.”

  “Oh jeez.” Rolling her eyes, Flint yanked on Abel’s arm and snatched him out the front door before her dad could embarrass her further. “Sorry about that.”

  “Nah, it’s cool. You should have seen my mom before I left, she was all like, ‘Bring Flint or else.’”

  She laughed. “So are we going there first?”

  They walked down the stairs, and she held his arm for support because she was terrified of breaking her neck while walking down the steps in such high heels. Thankfully, it was unseasonably warm for October. She probably hadn’t needed the jacket after all.

  “No. I barely made it out the first time, no promises the second time.”

  Laughing, she wasn’t aware of where they were headed until she noticed Adam’s ATV parked in the lot.

  “Of course.” She pretended to be surprised.

  Wiggling his brows, he handed her the helmet sitting on the passenger seat. “Hey, it was either this or bum a ride off Ja and Rhi, and that wasn’t happening. Ja’s been acting all weird with me lately.”

  A frown tugged at the region of her heart, dampening her excitement a little. Staring at the helmet with no enthusiasm, she wondered what kind of helmet hair she’d get from this.

  “Abel, you do realize I’m wearing a dress.”

  “Mmhmm.” He nodded with a leering grin. “And it’s short. It’s sort of perfect, right?”

  He strapped on his helmet and then sat, patting the seat behind him with an expectant look.

  In heels, no less.

  Laughing, she shrugged. “Yup, sort of perfect.”

  Ignoring her inner diva, she strapped on the helmet. “Face to the front. I’m about to sit and might flash something.”

  “That wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” He chuckled but turned around.

  Popping him in the back of the head, she sat. And yeah, it was even more uncomfortable than she’d thought it would be. The heels were going to have to come off, at least for the ride.

  “Hold on.” She slipped off her shoes, hugged them to her chest, and then slipped an arm around his waist. “Okay, giddyup, Tonto.”

  After starting the ignition, he headed toward the woods behind her complex. Leaning back, he yelled, “Taking the long way. Hang on tight.”

  She squeezed his arm harder. “Surprised Adam let you take this.”

  “Let me. Seriously, Flint? Have I taught you nothing?”

  If he only knew. Casting a worried glance over her shoulder, she wondered where the girls were right now.

  But then he started cracking jokes, and surprisingly, she started to have fun.

  The night was ripe with the scents of the woods, the roar of their ride, and her laughter. It trailed behind her like a ribbon blowing in the breeze.

  After all the drama and stress of the past few weeks, this was exactly what she’d needed.

  Before she knew it, they were parking and suddenly the nerves were back.

  Abel stood and, reaching over, pulled something out of her hair. Holding it front of her nose, he chuckled. “Dead leaf.”

  Patting her head, she asked, “Do I look okay?”

  He wiggled his brows.

  Smoothing the wrinkles out of her dress, she twirled her finger, indicating that he should turn around so she could get off.

  Satisfied, she got up and slipped on her heels.

  “You look great, really great,” Abel finally said. “Can I turn around now?”

  “Yeah.”

  When he offered his arm, Flint took it and walked toward the school on legs that felt like rubber. Mr. Wickham stood by the door as they climbed the stairs. Dressed in a tweed jacket and slacks, he kept glancing repeatedly at his watch.

  Finally spying her, he flung his hands up. “Ms. DeLuca, late as usual.”

  Frowning, she shook her head. “Mr. Wickham, I was here all morning setting up.”

  “Yes, yes…” He gestured distractedly, glancing over her shoulder. “Go inside, make sure the punch booth is set up, assist Tamara in any way she needs you to.”

  Tamara?

  Just the mention of the girl’s name had her skin washing over with goose bumps. Was it really a coincidence that Tamara was also working the dance and Flint hadn’t known about it until now? Looking back at the woods, she hoped everyone was where they were supposed to be.

  “Weird much?” Abel whispered into her ear as they walked inside.

  “I know, right? He seemed preoccupied, didn’t he?”

  Pinching his fingers together, he nodded. “Little bit.”

  When she walked inside the auditorium, a sense of pride overtook her. The place looked freaking good, even if she said so herself. She’d blown up over a hundred of the gold-dusted balloons. Right at ten, while everyone danced and swayed to the final slow song of the night, the balloon net would drop and gold dust would scatter everywhere.

  Amazing ho
w the sterile gymnasium could look so warm with just a few plants and silk splashes of color affixed to the walls. Thousands of silver stars dangled from the rafters.

  “Snaaa…zzy.” Abel whistled. “You did all this?” His eyes beamed down at her.

  “Well, no. But I did blow up so many balloons I almost fainted. World got all buzzy and funny for a second.”

  He laughed, then coughed, and so did she.

  Like she’d suddenly inhaled a bucket of powder. Wheezing, she waved her hand, trying to clear the air. Abel’s eyes teared up.

  “The heck is that?”

  Shaking her head, she looked for the source. It’d had felt like swallowing a massive amount of gnats. But there was nothing in the air. Then she smelled the sour milk.

  “Why are you here?” Tamara’s terse tone broke Flint’s happy vibe.

  “Because it’s a free world,” Abel snapped, shoving Flint behind his back and becoming a human shield. “Who are you?”

  Whoa!

  Had Abel just done that? Gone all postal? She was used to that with Cain, but not Abel. His neck was so rigid the muscles were raised, and there was definitely a vein throbbing at the base of it.

  Patting his back, Flint stood up on tiptoe. “Abel, it’s fine. Come on.”

  He didn’t turn.

  Tugging on his hand, she said with more force, “Abel, come on.”

  Tamara didn’t seem fazed. She just stared at Abel with that same eerie, buglike way of hers. Thank God she wasn’t blinking the clear membrane.

  Then he shook his head, stumbling back, and like air escaping a balloon, he seemed to physically deflate in front of her.

  Grabbing his head, he stumbled into her.

  “Hey.” Grunting, she shoved against his back, trying to use her momentum to keep him on his feet.

  Shaking his head, he looked at her with eyes grown wide with a flicker of panic. “I’m… I’m sorry… Don’t know what came over me.”

  But she knew. She knew and she couldn’t tell him.

  This sucked so bad. Knowing what he was becoming, knowing she couldn’t tell him a thing. Hugging his waist, she wrinkled her nose. “No bigs. But maybe…”

  “No.” He cut his hand through the air. “Don’t even say it. I’m not going home.”

  “Abel.” She dragged out his name with a sort of impatient huff. “You haven’t exactly been feeling so hot these last few days. Maybe this was too soon.”

  His lips quirked. “Flintlock, I just got a little angry at that…” Glancing up, he scanned the room for Tamara, but she’d already walked off. “…girl.”

  He really didn’t seem to want to go and honestly, he looked fine. If he was going through the change, she could handle him. Rhiannon had sworn that Layla managed to work all the crap out of his system. Whatever was happening now was purely berserker stuff, and she could handle that.

  She handled Cain.

  But no matter what, she’d keep an eye on him. At the slightest hint of crazy, they’d leave.

  “I’m fine. Really.” That gorgeous dimple in deep profile decided her.

  “Fine. But one more outburst from you, young man.” She wagged her finger.

  He caught it in the air and kissed the tip.

  A light kiss. It meant nothing.

  But she stilled like a cornered rabbit, pulse beating rapid through her fingertip. “Abel, behave.”

  His smile was wicked, a curving of lips and exposing of teeth. It made her shiver.

  Brow furrowing, she opened her mouth.

  “Flint.”

  It was Wickham and he was marching toward them with purpose.

  “Did you find Tamara?”

  He was sweating, running a finger along his collar.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Fine.” His answer was curt, his mood intense. “Look, I don’t see her around. Place looks good, but run back to the cafeteria and make sure the final shipment of punch arrived on time, will you?”

  The man was a wreck. If just making sure the punch arrived on time turned him into this, she’d hate to see him in a really stressful situation.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  She didn’t see Tamara back in the kitchen. Thankfully Abel had joined her, and along with another boy from her gym class (she thought his name might be Marcos), they were able to stock and count the last of the shipment.

  Eyeing the ginormous stack dubiously, she muttered, “Who needs this much punch? There’s like a hundred cases of the stuff. They can’t possibly expect a couple of kids to drink so much.”

  Marcos nodded, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his black suit jacket. “I know, and making us stack it right before the dance, man. Wish I had known there was going to be so much manual labor. I would have waited to change until after.”

  Holding out his arms for inspection, his face glowered and tiny lines scrawled across his brows. “Man, Amy’s not gonna want to dance with me if I’m all sweaty.”

  Almost like they’d spoken it into existence, a booming, hollow noise thumped through the walls. The dance was starting.

  Grabbing her hand, Abel waved at Marcos. “Come on, I want to show off my date.”

  Again, the feeling of oddness settled over her, dampening her mood. Abel wasn’t doing anything particularly different tonight, but there was a sort of manic desperation about him.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Stopping so quickly she knocked into his chest, Abel clenched his jaw. “I’m not a piece of glass. Stop expecting me to shatter, Flint. I want to dance and forget. Can we do that, please?”

  His face was rolling, the muscles moving beneath his skin, flexing and flaring, his breathing coming harder and harder through his nose.

  Somehow she managed to squeak out, “Okay. Great.”

  But he was sick. This wasn’t like Abel to act this way. Did the change really make them so different? Had Cain been more like this before?

  Forcing a hard smile to her face, she made herself as loose as possible and slipped her arm through his, acting as if he hadn’t just looked at her like he wanted to rip her head off her neck, like his body hadn’t trembled and started to thicken.

  She needed to find Cain.

  Relaxing again, he smiled down at her and patted her cold hand. “See. No bigs, right? Let’s go dance.”

  This time when they walked into the gym it was like they’d stepped into a different world. The lights were dimmed, the strobe lights flashing. The DJ’s booth, backlit with black light, swirled with a chaotic miasma of colors. Music thumped and blared through the large speakers.

  Kids were filling the large room. Dresses shimmered in every color of the rainbow, looking like flowers in the sun.

  The song was fast and pumping.

  Guys were jumping up and down, forming a sort of mosh pit in the corner. Regardless of the rhythm, some couples were swaying, looking at each with a promise in their eyes.

  Abel tugged on her hand.

  She could do this, she could.

  His hands slid down her waist.

  Laughing nervously, she swatted his arm. “This is a fast song.”

  “I know.” He waggled his brows. “Stop thinking, just dance.”

  Still not seeing the girls or Cain, she knew she was in this alone for the time being. She didn’t want to make him angry again. Cain said so long as they weren’t antagonized, they’d be normal. So if she did what Abel wanted, she’d be fine and so would everyone else.

  Feeling brave, she started to move. Slowly at first, trying to find the backbeat in the song. Her mother used to love dancing.

  She’d crank up the music player in the living room, then take Flint’s hand, and they’d dance until they were breathless.

  The music moved through her, in her, around her. It took her body and made her its slave. Before she knew it, she was completely caught up, spinning and laughing in Abel’s arms.

  He was a good dancer, not clumsy or awkward the way she’d expected him to be. And
in his arms, he was himself again. The light shining in his brown eyes, it was the Abel she knew and loved.

  They swayed in unison, moving almost as one. She, the sun. He, the planet. Gravity at work. Lost in the liquid sound, they danced one song after another, getting hot and sweaty, but not caring.

  “You move like fire.” Cain’s hot voice whispered in her ear, the long length of him pressing tight and warm to her back.

  Panting, she turned, placing her palms on his chest. The smell of his black leather motorcycle jacket whispered under her nose.

  “Cain,” she breathed as excitement flushed her cheeks.

  He looked good with his jacket and jeans and slightly messy hair. She ran her fingers through his hair. “You’re here.”

  Giving her a wolfish grin, he nodded. Warm hands clamped onto her back, sliding slowly down her spine. “You look amazing.”

  But she didn’t get a chance to bask in the warmth. Rough hands yanked her out of Cain’s arms.

  Abel glared at Cain, his fingers digging sharply into Flint’s arm. “You don’t get to touch.”

  “Whoa!” Flint shook her head, trying to jerk her arm away. But he was too strong. “Abel, what’s wrong with you?”

  Cain didn’t touch her, but his knuckles were bone white as he unlatched Abel’s hand from her. A rush of blood sizzled through her arm—it would definitely bruise.

  Then Abel did the most amazing thing.

  He punched Cain.

  “Screw you, man! She’s my date. Mine.” His eyes were frantic, sweat dotted his upper lip, and he moved as if ready to snatch her back to his side.

  Cain didn’t even rub at the red bloom on his cheek, acting as if the punch hadn’t fazed him. But she’d heard the sick thump of flesh striking flesh. Abel had swung hard.

  Gently, Cain set her behind his back. “Touch her again and I’ll rip your hands off.”

  Trembling, she rubbed her hands up and down his back. Suddenly Rhi and Ja were there. So were the twins. The girls surrounded Abel; the guys stood next to Cain.

  Aware that they were being stared at, Flint tugged on Cain’s jacket. It was a miracle they hadn’t been caught fighting. In fact, looking around, there weren’t any teachers anywhere.