Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by hamilton, rebecca

  “And if I ate like you, I’d weigh a ton. It’s so unfair,” Skye said, shaking her head.

  Tanner and Michael put their lunch trays on the table and dug in with their usual enthusiasm.

  “Well, are you worried about James and Theodora now?” Tanner’s tone was light, but his eyes were soft with sympathy.

  Skye poked him in the arm while Michael shook his head slightly at his friend.

  “Sensitive much?” Skye scowled.

  “It’s okay.” Callie focused on the pizza. Her favorite lunchroom meal and she couldn’t enjoy it. She took a bite and chewed. Actually, she could enjoy it. Food was her go-to comfort remedy.

  “Don’t mind Tanner,” Michael said. “You know he lives to tease. So what if Theodora is staying at his house? James has you; he’s not looking for anybody else.”

  She was touched by his loyalty. For the first time today, a real smile tugged the corners of her mouth. She was being over-sensitive and grumpy from lack of sleep. After the disturbing midnight visions, she’d lain awake, unable to shake the battle sounds of clashing broadswords and the sight of the unknown tomb.

  Skye was scowling again. Callie followed her gaze and saw Emily Singer headed their way with her lunch tray. Emily had an embarrassed, but determined, air as she made her way to them.

  “Mind if I sit with you today?” She hesitated, glancing in Skye’s direction.

  In the fraction of a second that Emily’s question hung in the air, Callie made a swift decision. It went against every witch code-of-ethics kind of thing, but in the grand scheme of battles and betrayals and death, what was a little push in the love spell department? She focused on Emily and silently willed the girl’s feet to move away from Tanner.

  Emily stumbled slightly and sat beside Michael. A surprised silence descended on the group, but no one looked more startled than Emily who blushed and looked down at her food.

  “Why aren’t you sitting at the mean girls’ table?” Skye asked with considerable hostility. “Aren’t you afraid Gina and your other friends will see you with the Goth Girl Weirdo?”

  “Mean girls? What mean girls?” Tanner rounded on Skye. “Who’s the Goth Girl?”

  Emily’s blush deepened and she said nothing.

  “Leave her alone, Skye.” Michael was talking to his sister, but his eyes never left Emily’s face. “Emily’s not like those other girls.”

  “What other girls?” Tanner asked in bewilderment.

  Honestly, he could be so dense.

  Skye blushed. “The girls who make fun of me all the time.” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter in the least and crumpled up her paper bag.

  “Who’s being mean to you?” Tanner was clearly outraged.

  “It’s no big deal. I’m used to it. They’ve never liked me.”

  “Gina and her gang of tag-alongs gave Skye a really hard time in junior high,” Michael explained. “She used to come home from school crying almost every day.”

  “Michael! That was a long time ago. I don’t care anymore. Besides, they haven’t been so bad since you and Tanner became the stars on their beloved football team.”

  Tanner shook his head. “They must be jealous.”

  Skye looked at him, dumbfounded. “Jealous?”

  Tell her, Callie silently willed him. Just tell her.

  “You’re the prettiest girl in Piedmont,” Tanner blurted.

  Callie wanted to scream in triumph. She wasn’t sure who looked more surprised at the pronouncement, Tanner or Skye. It was all she could do not to burst out laughing. Nothing she’d done had made Tanner think or say anything not already there in his mind. She merely gave him a little push to speak up.

  “Sorry, Skye. I hope I never did anything to hurt your feelings,” said Emily.

  Skye swung her rapt gaze from Tanner’s face to stare blankly at Emily. “What did you say?”

  “She says she’s sorry.” Michael said. “Like I told you, she’s not like those other girls.” He turned back to Emily. “Let’s take our trays outside for lunch and get some air.”

  Callie watched them leave with a self-satisfied smile. She glanced at Tanner to see if he minded Emily being with Michael. She didn’t need to worry. Tanner and Skye were staring at each other, unaware of the drama around them.

  Callie took a few last bites of pizza and rose. “My work here is done,” she murmured quietly, putting her water bottle on the tray and gathering her books and purse. If only she could easily smooth out the wrinkles in her own love life.

  Last period history was lonely without James. She hadn’t seen his car in the parking lot this morning or seen him at school all day, but she had secretly hoped he’d come for this class.

  Callie gazed unseeing at the blackboard as the professor outlined the history of the Gulf War. Talk of war only made her think again of the upcoming battle in her vision.

  For months, she’d deluded herself into believing her father would eventually disappear. She had buried her head in the sand and let her love for James distract her from reality.

  And reality totally sucked.

  Truth was, if not for her, there would be no battle and resulting death, and James would be free to love Theodora or find an immortal female.

  Letting him go without a fight would be the right thing to do. More than anything, James wanted someone to love him and never die and leave him alone. The one thing she couldn’t give him.

  A sudden thought chilled her. What if the tombstone in her vision was James’s? In a battle with other immortals, he was vulnerable to having his head chopped off. The one act that could kill him.

  Getting mixed up with her was the worst thing ever for James. Callie’s vision blurred with tears. She knew what she had to do. If he didn’t break it off with her, she would have to end it.

  She wished she had never left New Jersey and come to Piedmont. Never found out her father was alive.

  A knock on the classroom door startled the professor.

  “Come in,” he called out in annoyance.

  A student aide entered and waved a pink slip. “Note for Callie Bradford.”

  Her heart involuntarily skipped as she walked up for the note. A message from James? She opened the paper with eager hands. ‘Meet me in the library--Theodora Ansley.’

  She sucked in her breath and gathered her books. Ignoring the questioning looks from Skye and Tanner, she followed the aide out the door.

  The library appeared deserted, and Theodora wasn’t at her desk. Callie went to the periodicals and absently started thumbing through National Geographics.

  “Witch.” The word was a hiss, the sound of loathing unmistakable.

  She dropped the magazine in her hands and found Theodora standing a mere foot away. How had she managed that trick?

  “Who says I’m a witch?” She tried not to show that Theodora’s venom rattled her.

  “I know everything about you, Caledonia Bradford. How your family thinks you’re some kind of special witch, and your father is a rogue warlock who wants you to join him in black magic.”

  Callie stilled, instantly alert. “You know Lucas?”

  Theodora’s face went blank. “Lucas?”

  “My so-called father. Do you know him?” Her voice sharpened.

  “No. I don’t associate with witches.”

  Then James must have told Theodora about her family. The thought of the two of them discussing her hurt almost as much as the vision of them embracing. What else did James tell Theodora? She bent down to pick up the dropped National Geographic, needing a moment to collect her emotions.

  Theodora laughed in a throaty, gleeful way. “And you’re practically a virgin—as pure as the partly driven snow.”

  That stung so bad she forgot to breathe. Blood drained from her face. She closed the magazine and put it back on the shelf. “What do you want, Theodora?”

  “I want James. And I intend to have him.” She crossed her arms under her much-admired, anatomically-gifted breasts and ran her eye
s up and down Callie’s body. “What does he see in you? You’re an inexperienced little school girl.” Theodora shook her head in disgust. “Even worse, you’re a witch. Immortal men are usually gun-shy around your kind.”

  “Then you should have nothing to worry about.” Callie tried not to show her surprise. This woman even knew about James’s immortality. And here she thought it was a secret between the two of them. “If you’re through insulting me, I’ll head back to class.”

  Callie walked away. She was almost at the door when, for the second time, Theodora noiselessly appeared in front of her. That was one scary woman.

  “Think of James, Callie. Imagine how devastated he’ll be when your mortal life ends and he’s alone again. Is that fair? He should be with his own kind.”

  Fair? The question stopped her cold, in a way the personal insults couldn’t. “Are you telling me you’re . . . an . . . immortal?”

  “I’m over a hundred years old.”

  “But . . . I thought females were rare, something new.”

  “The concept of new to an immortal isn’t quite the same as it is to a human.”

  She winced at the derisive way Theodora said human. As if mortals were inferior creatures. Did most immortals share her contempt for witches?

  “Well?” Theodora pressed sarcastically. “Don’t you see James would be far better off with me? I understand him in a way you never could.” She lowered her voice and shot straight to the crucial issue. “And I will always be there for him. Forever.”

  She stared into Theodora’s penetrating eyes. Hadn’t she been thinking the very same thing in class? James needed someone like Theodora. But that didn’t mean the woman had to be such a damn bitch. Theodora had no right to slam her because she was a witch, and she certainly had no right to laugh at her sexual inexperience.

  “About the semi-virginity thing,” Callie began. “I’m sure James prefers it to your hundred years of experience in the sex department. You’re like a doorknob—everyone’s had a turn at you.”

  This time, Theodora stepped aside and let her leave.

  ‘Meet me after school at our place. J.’

  The text message had arrived as she drove home. For the first time, she felt no joy in getting ready to see James. She brushed her long honey-cinnamon curls methodically and surveyed her sober expression in the mirror. “This hellish day keeps going on and on,” she muttered. Either he was going to tell her he was back with Theodora, or she was going to have to convince him she was wrong for him.

  She closed her eyes and forced herself to relive the vision of the upcoming battle and the graveyard scene. Was James killed in that immortal fight? Someone was going to die because of her. She had to try and stop it. Today would be the first, and hardest, step.

  She laid the hairbrush on the dresser. No sense putting it off any longer.

  The climb up the mountain trail failed to charm her as normal. Each footstep brought her closer to losing James. The dread weighed on her physically, suffocating and heavy as a thick, wool blanket.

  She saw him before he spotted her. He stood on the rock ledge, staring into space. His handsome profile made her breath catch. He pushed back a stray, dark strand of hair that blew in his eye. She knew him so well, down to the smallest detail. James was so perfect, so beautiful; it was amazing she even had him a brief time. He already seemed out of reach.

  She hardened her heart and stepped forward.

  James smiled when Callie walked out of the woods. But she didn’t return the warm welcome, just kept walking in his direction until she came to an abrupt stop several feet away.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you glad to see me?”

  “Tell me about Theodora.” Her voice was flat, cold.

  Ah, jealousy. That he could understand. He’d feel the same if their roles were reversed.

  “I should have told you yesterday. Theodora’s an old girlfriend. I had nothing to do with her coming here. Dad has this ridiculous idea of trying to get us back together.”

  “And what’s her reason for coming?”

  He sighed. There was no way to get around it. “She has this crazy notion of us reuniting.”

  “How hard are you trying to discourage her? I mean c’mon, James, she’s living in your house. It’s got to be tempting.”

  The memory of Theodora kissing him in the dining room made his face heat with a guilty flush. He stepped toward her. “Whatever we had is over. You’re all I want, Callie.” He bent down and kissed her. Her lips, her body—it just felt right, something he never felt with Theodora. Her body softened against him, and the knot of tension in his gut relaxed.

  She abruptly pushed him away. “You kissed her last night, didn’t you?”

  “How . . . how did you—?” He realized his mouth was open, and he shut it with a snap.

  “How did I know?” Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t. It was an unlucky guess.”

  He groaned inwardly. You would think at his age he’d have seen the trap. “It was more like she kissed me. And it didn’t last but a minute.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Her voice was hard again.

  This brittle, sharp Callie was a stranger. She’d always acted so loving, so trusting, so sure they were meant for each other.

  “I told you before I would never lie to you, and I’m telling you the truth now. Theodora means nothing to me.”

  She walked past him as if to collect herself. Slowly, she faced him, hugging her arms around her chest. “She’s immortal. She’s perfect for you.”

  He stilled. “Is this another one of your guesses?”

  “No. I heard it straight from the bitch’s mouth.”

  Damn Theodora! What else had she told Callie? The woman was ruthless. No wonder Callie was so upset. “I don’t care how angry Dad gets, I’ve had it. She’s moving out tonight. You won’t ever have to see her again, Callie.”

  A softening in her eyes was quickly squelched. “There’s no need for that.” She paused. “Work it out with Theodora. You should be with someone who can stay with you forever.”

  He shook his head slightly. “I can’t believe you said that. You don’t mean it.”

  “I do mean it, every word.”

  Swift anger and hurt pinched his heart. “Stop being noble. Having Theodora for eternity would be a curse, not a blessing.”

  “I’m being realistic.”

  “I thought you loved me.”

  Callie trembled, then her spine stiffened with resolution.

  “I’m a witch. Immortals and witches shouldn’t mix. If that’s not reason enough for you, there’s always Lucas. You don’t know the danger like I do. It’ll be better for both of us if you stay away from me.”

  “I can protect you, Callie. Trust me.” He couldn’t believe this was happening. “You love me.”

  They stared at each other wordlessly, and the silence grew deafening.

  “It’s over, James.” The words were a whisper in the spring dusk, and then she slipped away into darkness.

  13

  A Little Something Extra

  The descent down the mountain was marked by slips and stumbles. She could hardly make out the path through hot tears. Somehow, she bumbled toward home, like a wounded animal returning to its den.

  Thank Goddess no one else was home. She went straight to her room and fell into bed, wrapping into her lavender quilt. Grandma Jo always said a good cry cleansed the soul.

  The shadows grew thicker outside the bedroom window. She had no idea how long she laid huddled there, until the crunch of car tires on gravel interrupted the cocoon of misery.

  Can’t let them see me like this. She rushed to the shower. It would buy her time to get herself together.

  As the hot spray beat down, her tears blended with the soapy water and the sound of the shower covered her sobs. By the end of it, no tears were left and the crying had subsided to an occasional hiccup. She toweled herself off and put on a schleppy robe.

  “Callie, c’mon d
ownstairs. Your mom picked up dinner on the way home.” Grandma Jo’s voice drifted upstairs.

  Great, she’d eat a bit and claim a headache. She took a few deep breaths, combed out her wet hair, and applied balm on her parched lips. She still looked like hell but not quite as heartsick.

  The smell of pepperoni and sausage pizza filled the kitchen. Grandma Jo usually frowned on fast food, but Ginnie and Callie insisted on a nice, juicy pizza now and then. She stood at the bottom of the stairs for a moment, breathed deeply, and joined them at the table. She cut a small slice of pizza and scooped a tiny portion of salad. The token bit of salad was a show so Grandma Jo would see green on her plate.

  “What are you doing in that old robe this time of day?” asked Mom. “It’s early.”

  She kept wet hair fanned in front of her face. “I just got out of the shower and grabbed it. I’m not going out tonight anyway.” She moved a little of the salad around with a fork while two sets of eyes bored into her.

  “I thought you loved pizza,” Mom said.

  “We had it for lunch today. Besides, I’m not that hungry.”

  “Not hungry?”

  “You must be sick,” said Grandma Jo. “Look at me.”

  She reluctantly looked up, hoping her bloodshot eyes would go without comment. “I’ve got a really bad headache. Do you mind if I go lie back down? I’ll eat later.”

  “Of course,” Mom said gently. “Do you need aspirin?”

  “I already took some.” She trudged back upstairs, leaving the uneaten pizza on her plate. No doubt they were speculating about what was wrong, but she was too miserable to care. All that mattered was the solitude and darkness of her room.

  On the way to bed, she glanced at her cell phone on the dresser. Five new messages—all from Skye. She was probably on cloud nine after Tanner called her the prettiest girl in Piedmont. At least one of them was happy.

  Callie closed her eyes and relived the day’s every word with James. She had to do it. Maybe James would realize it one day. Would he really kick Theodora out of the house? Or was he even now turning to her for sympathy? She thought she was all cried out, but the tears were back, stinging swollen eyelids.