Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by hamilton, rebecca

  “Mine’s witchy too. Caledonia’s the ancient name for Scotland. Mom picked it to honor our Celtic witch heritage.”

  “You’re lucky. She could have honored that Druidic branch by calling you something ghastly like Druidella. Anyhoo, why do you think the Dean wants to see you?”

  Her stomach fluttered. “I can’t imagine.”

  “Told ya’ that man creeps me out. Something about him is off. Tell me what happened later in history class.”

  Callie kept touching her amber pendant as she sat in the administrative office waiting to see the Dean. She didn’t have to wait long before two guys with surly expressions on their faces came out of Connors’s office and took seats across from her.

  “Don’t ever come back on campus, or I’ll have security remove you,” Connors warned them. He turned to Callie, his face still flushed in anger. “Come in,” he motioned as he headed back to his desk.

  Callie entered and again was hit with a sense of unease, even stronger than her first day at school. Was it because of her heightening powers? Maybe it was residual anger from Connors’s encounter with the students he’d expelled.

  He stared and tapped a pencil against the desk. His gaze was unnerving. She listened to the staccato beat of the pencil and wondered if this was a new form of school discipline torture. Make the student sweat out all the possibilities of why they were in trouble.

  “I’m disappointed in you, Callie,” he finally said, voice acid with sarcasm. “Never expected to hear your name come up in this scandal.”

  “I-I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You seem intelligent enough. No reason to resort to cheating.” He continued to tap the pencil against the desk.

  “Cheating?” Callie’s hand automatically clasped the amber pendant. What was he talking about?

  His eyes zoomed in on the pendant. “Unusual necklace.”

  Callie nodded, stunned into silence.

  The sound of the pencil snapping was unexpected and ominous. They both looked down at it, now broken in half. Shavings of number two lead and yellow painted wood formed an irregular pattern on the maple desk. It took a lot of strength or a lot of anger to do that damage.

  “As you must know, this college has a zero tolerance policy against cheating of any kind. First offense is expulsion.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never cheated on a test or paper. Never.”

  He steepled his fingers. “Your name was brought up in connection with a cheating ring where a group of students have hacked the computer system to change their grades.”

  “That’s a lie. Who said that? Those two guys you just kicked out of the office? I don’t even know their names.”

  “They knew yours.”

  This was far worse than anything she could have imagined. Why would someone do this to her?

  “I swear I didn’t do it,” she choked out.

  “Unfortunately, there’s no proof you were involved. Only the word of the students that were caught. I have no grounds to expel you.” He leaned forward, frowning. “But I’ll be watching you.”

  “Yes, sir.” Callie rose on trembling legs, eager to escape.

  “One more thing. Perhaps you should be more selective in the company you keep. Could be that someone you consider your friend is actually an enemy.”

  An enemy? She hardly even knew the other students. None of this made sense. But she nodded and turned to leave.

  A single, small black feather lay on the floor by Connors’s desk. It was out of place in the pristine room and sent a cold trickle down her spine.

  Callie walked out quickly, her mind reeling. Connors was lying. That was easier to swallow than his claim she’d been fingered in a cheating scandal. The man disliked her, although she couldn’t imagine why.

  The out-of-place feather might be a clue. She searched her mind. What had she heard before about black feathers? Ah, yes . . . Aunt Mallory mentioned they were a sign of warning, some kind of Cherokee belief in the black crow as an animal totem that watched over the landscape with keen intelligence and cautioned other birds about potential threats.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Tanner asked when she took her seat in history. “Heard your name on the P.A. Caledonia? Really? What kind of name is that?”

  Callie noted James’s empty chair with relief. She wanted to sort through this thing with Connors alone. “Don’t ever call me Caledonia again, mister football jock.”

  “What happened with Connors?” Skye asked.

  “He made a ridiculous claim that another student accused me of cheating. I’ll tell you about it later.”

  Skye rolled her eyes. “Told you he was a jerk.”

  “All right, everyone, I’m returning your test papers. I must say, the scores were even worse than I anticipated.” The professor’s usual sarcasm was turned up a notch. “I can’t imagine what you’re doing here in class and where your little minds wander. You would think, by the pure power of osmosis, you would absorb some of what I’m saying.” His self-satisfied smile revealed his pleasure in handing out F papers.

  Tanner raised a hand. “What’s an osmosis?”

  Emily smiled at him while the rest of the class snickered.

  “Your witticism is only exceeded by your pathetic lack of academic skills, football superstar.” The teacher dropped a test paper with a large, red ‘F’ on Tanner’s desk. “Better hope you don’t lose that precious athletic scholarship.”

  Really, he went too far sometimes.

  Skye sent the teacher a withering look. Uh oh. Skye had the stereotypical redheaded temperament. Her anger, once roused, could be glorious.

  The professor was writing on the blackboard when a slight swirl of air blew over the back of his head. The hairs lifted, showing the seam of the toupee across a bald patch on his scalp. Several students snickered. When the volume got too loud, he turned and glared. He knew they were laughing at him but couldn’t figure out why.

  Callie caught Skye’s eye and gave a slight shake of her head. This was a no-no on appropriate use of power.

  Skye grinned, totally unrepentant. She leaned back in her chair and whispered, “Remember the spaghetti incident? Maybe I’m dealing out a little justice too.”

  Cheating.

  Callie’s anger festered the more she dwelled on Connors’s lies. She found herself tapping her pencil on a notebook, and she glanced at the other students in the quiet library. Nobody was paying her any attention. Most had their heads buried in a book, and others were researching on the computers. Normally, the library would be her last choice as a refuge, but she didn’t want to chance running into James if she’d gone for a mountain hike.

  She removed the amber from her neck and cupped it in her hands. Maybe if she meditated about the meeting, she’d discover a clue about the disturbing incident.

  Eyes open, she breathed deeply and projected herself mentally back into the Dean’s office. She sat across from Connors, watching the tapping of the pencil; the motion slowed down like stilled movie frames. She observed his left hand stationary on the desk while the right hand pounded the pencil. When the pencil shattered in two, the broken fragments fell slowly.

  Her vision focused on the ring he wore on his right forefinger. It was gold and bulky, with a large garnet stone that at first glance looked like a traditional class ring. She zoomed in on the details of the piece. One side pictured crossed daggers, the other an engraved five-star pentagram.

  She had seen a ring like this once before.

  On her father.

  She awakened from her trance, chills prickling her arms. No wonder the Dean gave her the creeps. He was in league with her father. Had Lucas hired him to keep an eye on her and report on her activities and friends? Maybe Lucas wanted her to get in trouble. Wanted her to come to him for help and accept his job offer.

  She had to find the truth. She would sneak into Connors’s office and snoop. The sooner the better. If she thought about it too long, she might chicken ou
t.

  She could do it right now if his secretary, Mrs. Campbell, was away from her desk. Or she could steal a master key from the janitor’s office in the basement and come back later.

  Filled with resolve, she left the library and entered the administrative building by the back door. At the end of the hallway, she peeked around the corner to the front office where Mrs. Campbell sat. The secretary leaned back in her chair, yawned, then checked her watch, evidently counting down the minutes until five o’clock. If only she would take a bathroom break and leave her desk a few minutes.

  Time she tested her power of suggestion. She’d seen Mrs. Campbell drink coffee in the mornings. That would work. Callie closed her eyes, formed the image of a cup of coffee, and imbued the image with the aroma of fresh brewed steam rising. She telepathically sent the image to Mrs. Campbell and was thrilled to see the secretary perk up and sniff.

  “You would love a cup of coffee right now.” Callie whispered the suggestion. “Go to the lounge and get some before you lock up for the night.”

  Mrs. Campbell rose from her desk. Callie felt a tiny thrill of power, understanding for the first time how heady it must be for Lucas to control others. She waited until the secretary was out of sight then hurried into the office. It had a window on the side at ground level. Callie eased it open a couple of inches, enough for her to come back a little later and get in. She was about to congratulate herself on how easy it had been when heavy footsteps and the creaking of a cart rolled near the door.

  The janitor.

  Shit. Nothing was ever easy. She hid behind Connors’s desk and held her breath, listening to the cart in the hallway. The janitor was close enough, she could hear his low humming.

  Callie peeked over the top of the desk and gasped. Her purse sat in plain sight on its surface. Double shit. Even if the janitor was only passing by, he could see it. She closed her eyes and willed him to move on down the hall. For one tense moment, the cart stopped outside the doorway . . . and then the wheels squeaked as it moved on.

  Heart pounding, she grabbed the purse and ran to the door, making sure the hallway was deserted before scrambling out the door.

  But the hardest part was still ahead.

  James stirred restlessly. It was close to five o’clock, and he hadn’t seen or heard from Callie since lunch. He’d dropped her off at school after getting barbeque and decided to skip the rest of the day. After decades of school, there wasn’t much to learn, although it was always amusing to dip back into the school scene. He bounced back and forth between work and school, always ducking and dodging and changing aliases as needed. After a good twenty years, people questioned your eternally youthful appearance, and that meant it was time to move on yet again.

  He tried to call Callie for the third time with no success. Ridiculous to feel he had to have constant contact with her, but the fear in her grandmother’s voice about Callie’s safety had stayed with him. To set his mind at ease, he called Skye.

  “She said she had to go to the library after classes,” Skye enlightened him. “Did she tell you about Dean Connors?”

  “No. What’s up?”

  “Some crazy accusation that she’d been named in a cheating ring.”

  “Callie? She’d never do that.”

  “I know. Weird, right?”

  Something was very wrong.

  “Thanks for letting me know, Skye.” James turned off his phone, frowning.

  Could she be in trouble? The whole incident must have shaken her. Inspiration struck. If he hurried, he could get Callie a bouquet of daisies and meet her at the library. That would cheer her up.

  Callie lingered behind the rush of students and employees exiting, wanting to be the last out of the building. She walked slow as everyone else pulled out of the parking lot in a noisy burst of car engines and honking horns. When the last car left, Callie did a U-turn and ran to the side of the school.

  The window was still cracked, and she slid it up all the way. Awkwardly, she flung her legs into the opening and fell inside, painfully bumping her knees on the linoleum. A few lights provided enough illumination to navigate, and if she pulled the blinds down behind her, it would cover all but her shadow from anyone outside.

  She searched the floor, but the black feather was gone. Had he seen her looking at it? Or maybe the janitor swept it up already. She sat at Connors’s desk and saw the photograph of the two smiling girls she’d noticed earlier. She picked up the frame for a closer look.

  Odd. Something was off. She turned the frame over to take out the photo.

  “Well, well, well,” she said aloud in the eerie silence.

  These weren’t his girls or grandkids, just a cut-out magazine photo. Why would someone have fake photos on their desk? She opened the center drawer and flipped through paperwork. Meeting notes, appointment reminders, and calendars . . . the usual stuff.

  She rifled through a calendar, unsure what she was looking for. There were lots of miscellaneous meetings and phone numbers. June 1st was circled in red with the words ‘LAST DAY OF SCHOOL!’ Seemed the staff was as eager for this day as students. She skimmed the rest of the month, and then her mouth dropped in surprise at the last entry: ‘June 21, summer solstice, CB’s twentieth birthday.’

  “Bingo—got you,” she whispered. Connors had to be working with Lucas.

  There were no more entries after her birthday.

  Hurriedly, she yanked opened the other desk drawers, searching for more damning evidence. The last one was the jackpot. Inside it, she found a round, wooden engraving of an inverted pentagram. Black magic for sure. This man was one of her father’s disciples.

  A sharp tapping sounded on the windowpane.

  She wasn’t at the library.

  James’s forebodings increased as he drove around campus, trying to spot her. In the admin building’s parking lot, he spotted her car. The only other vehicle there was a pickup truck on blocks that had been there for weeks. He pulled up beside her empty car. Where could she be? He forced himself to stop imagining worst-case scenarios. The first logical step was a search of the grounds.

  James got out of his car and closed the door quietly. Using his keen, extraordinary night vision, he checked the school grounds and detected a slight movement in the shrubs toward the back left side of the building. He headed in that direction, careful to hug the wall and duck underneath windows.

  Approaching the area, he stopped and enveloped himself in silence to acclimate his senses even more to the night. There was the usual rustle of the trees and sounds of cars from the roadway. He filtered those out and honed in on the smaller area where he stood. His patience was rewarded with the sound of rustling paper, as if someone was turning pages in a book. He heard a female gasp and a few words whispered.

  He knew that voice. Callie was in there. He stood and peered in the window. Even with the blinds down, he could see her profile at a desk.

  He rapped on the windowpane. “Callie,” he called out in a voice he hoped was loud enough for her to hear but not loud enough if anyone else lurked nearby.

  Her heart returned to an almost-normal rate when James called her name.

  His voice rose a couple of decibels. “What are you doing?”

  She hastily returned everything in the desk to its proper place and went to the window. “Uhm . . .hello, funny meeting like this.” She shifted on her feet. What must he think of her?

  “That would be an understatement. Climb out of the window, and we’ll continue this discussion outside.”

  “Good idea.” She smiled breezily, as if getting caught sneaking into someone’s office was an everyday occurrence. She opened the window a little wider and started to sling one leg over the ledge. Halfway out of the office, James swore under his breath.

  “Damn. Someone’s coming.”

  She halted and strained her ears. “Are you sure? I don’t hear anything.”

  “It’s too far away for you to hear. But someone is definitely coming. Hurry up!”


  Callie scrambled out and shut the window. James grabbed her arm and started pulling her toward the parking lot.

  “I still don’t see anything.” She let out a startled yelp when James picked her up and ran.

  The world sped by so fast, she felt dizzy. In seconds, they were in his car and going ninety.

  James turned onto the main road at break-neck speed, and Callie gripped the front console. Though she still couldn’t see or hear anything, she sensed a dark energy. Clasping her amber pendant, she gathered spirit energy for protection. Callie visualized a blue-purple cloud rising from the earth’s core, encasing the car in an indigo aura.

  She glanced at James who kept checking out the rearview mirror. She craned her head to the back windshield and saw a black Cadillac bearing down on them, a mere three feet from their bumper. The man behind the steering wheel had thin brown hair with a receding hairline and dark eyes glinting behind eyeglasses.

  Connors.

  Good goddess, he somehow knew she’d searched his office. If James hadn’t shown up, she’d be at his mercy right now. She gulped. Connors might be chasing them to take her to Lucas, if he didn’t kill her first.

  “You recognize that guy?” James asked.

  “It’s the Dean, Mr. Connors.”

  James slanted her a sharp look. “Skye told me about your meeting with him. That was his office you were in, right?”

  She nodded miserably. Now she’d get them both killed.

  They drove down the mountain, going eighty on the narrow, twisted roads. James rounded a bend, and his car scraped against the guardrails, the right tires inches from dropping off solid ground. She winced at the grinding of metal on metal and closed her eyes against the deep gorge below.

  James overcorrected the car’s direction, and they hit the side limestone cliff on the opposite side of the road. The car bounced into the middle of the street, spinning in circles.

  This is it. Death by car crash or death by Connors’s hands. The world spun dizzily.