Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by hamilton, rebecca

  Matthew sat down at the table.

  She faced him. “We don’t know how this pregnancy will work,” she said bluntly. “And I’d rather André be with her. He’ll know if something is wrong.”

  Matthew closed his eyes. “But he’s just a child.”

  “That’s where you are wrong, Matt. He isn’t a child anymore,” Linda replied.

  “So we just give in to his every whim?” Matthew countered.

  “No. But we have to trust that he’s learned something from us. He’s always had a clear idea of right and wrong.” She walked over to Matthew. “What he did with Katrina wasn’t wrong—stupid, yes, but not wrong.” She smiled a little. “It was actually a bit romantic if you think about it.”

  Matthew rolled his eyes.

  “Don’t roll your eyes at me, Matthew Robbins,” she scolded, putting her hands on her hips.

  Matthew smirked, humor returning to his eyes after what seemed like weeks. “I’ll roll my eyes any time I please,” he replied, standing up and pulling her toward him. He kissed her gently. “So we give them what they want?”

  She nodded. “In this case, I think it would be for the best.”

  Matthew sighed. “You want to tell them?”

  “No, it needs to come from you.”

  “Crap,” he muttered under his breath.

  Linda heard the mutterings. “You dished out the punishment; you also get to be the one to give back the privileges. That’s how it works, honey.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Matthew said as he headed out of the room and up the stairs. He hated the very idea of giving in.

  André sat on the bed with his arm around Katrina, looking expectantly at the doorway to Katrina’s room when Matthew stuck his head in.

  “You knew I was coming,” Matthew stated.

  André nodded.

  “Do you know why?”

  André half smiled and nodded, trying not to gloat.

  Matthew sighed and nodded. “No sex.”

  André raised his eyebrows and looked at his father through his bangs. Yeah, right.

  Katrina hit his stomach with the back of her hand, giving him a cross look.

  “I’m serious, André,” Matthew said.

  “I know you are,” André replied but he had no intention of agreeing to the stipulation.

  Matthew went to leave but paused and looked back. “You can really teach people to control things and read minds?”

  André nodded and glanced toward Katrina. “Show him.”

  Katrina bit her lip, glancing at Matthew. She turned her attention to the desk, staring at the pen that lay on her math book. A thin layer of perspiration broke out on her forehead as she willed the pen to move. She let out a hiss of air from her lips and the pen spun around in a circle. She smiled, but the effort obviously wiped her out.

  André kissed her cheek. “Good job, babe,” he said and looked over at Matthew.

  Matthew’s gaze bounced between the pen and André and back. “How long did that take?”

  “A week,” André answered.

  Matthew’s jaw dropped and he blinked rapidly, trying to grasp the concept. “How?” he asked when he recovered his composure.

  André debated on telling him the process. “You didn’t believe it was possible,” he stalled and got up. “I need to get her a drink.” He walked past his father and down to the kitchen, coming back in time to hear his father drilling Katrina.

  “How, Katrina?”

  Katrina shook her head and wiped her face with her hand. “I’m not sure. But now if I concentrate, I can do stuff. I can read minds, too, if I try.” She looked at her hands. “I think this may be the reason I got sick, though. It takes a lot out of me.”

  André stepped in with a glass of orange juice and handed it to Katrina. Taking a seat next to her, he turned his attention to his father. “I can teach almost anyone,” he said. “The only caveat is that the person has to trust me.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I have to get into their head,” André replied.

  Matthew’s brow furrowed. “Say again?”

  “I have to get into their mind.”

  Matthew sat back. “Mind control?”

  “Not exactly,” André answered. “Mind control screws people up. It scrambles their brains a little.” He shrugged. “This is different. It’s more like opening a door that’s been locked since birth.” He studied the hangnail again and then glanced at Katrina. “I guess it hurts a little, too.” He looked back at his father when Katrina nodded.

  Matthew glanced between the two of them. “Okay, go for it.” He leaned back with his arms out.

  “Huh?” André grunted.

  “Teach me,” Matthew said, putting his hands on his thighs.

  André blinked and glanced sideways at Katrina.

  “It hurts,” Katrina warned.

  “You got through it.” Matthew shrugged. “How bad can it be?”

  André turned away from Katrina as a small laugh escaped his lips. His father just set her off with that statement.

  “What, you think girls are wimpy?” Katrina shot back at her father-in-law, the anger in her eyes making Matthew smirk and shrug. She stalked out of the room in a huff, leaving André and Matthew staring after her.

  “You just pissed her off,” André replied with a grin.

  “Seriously, how bad can it be?”

  André shrugged in response. “Do you trust me, Dad?”

  Matthew considered the question. “For the most part, yes.”

  “But not completely?”

  Matthew shook his head. “No, not completely. There are some things that I don’t trust you with. Katrina, for instance.” Matthew pointed over his shoulder.

  André blushed, shrugged and nodded. His father had good reason not to trust him with Katrina.

  “But as far as putting my life in your hands, I trust that you wouldn’t intentionally put me in harm’s way.”

  André nodded. “I wouldn’t,” he said and sighed. “But if you have any doubts at all, I could end up really hurting you.”

  “Tell me how this works.”

  André shifted uncomfortably. “First I have to access the point where the brainstem attaches to the spinal cord.”

  “Define access,” Matthew demanded.

  André looked at the floor and back up. “I stuck a needle in Kat’s neck.”

  The color drained from Matthew’s face. “Then what?”

  “Then I remove the needle and plug the cut with my finger. And from there, I’m able to access the person’s mind.” He shrugged. “Once I’m in, I break down the barrier that prevents humans from getting to the natural powers each of you already has.” André wouldn’t meet his father’s gaze.

  Matthew took a deep breath. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  André scanned his hand. The cut on his finger had healed from his venture with Katrina. “In order to get to your mind, I have to infuse my blood with yours.”

  Matthew digested what André told him; his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed. “And how’d you know this would work?”

  André hesitated. He didn’t have a reasonable answer to the question. “I just knew.”

  “You put Kat’s life on the line on a whim?” Matthew balked.

  “No. I can’t tell you how I knew what to do or that it would work. I just did. Maybe I saw something similar when I was a kid but I can’t be sure.” He took a deep breath. “Do you want to do this or not?”

  Matthew stood up and walked to the doorway. He paused with his hand on the door, shaking his head slightly at the internal debate. What Katrina had done was amazing. Finally, he closed the door, sweeping the doubts away and turning back to André. “Where do you want me?”

  André pointed at the chair. “Face the back of the chair,” he instructed. “And you can’t move at all when I do this,” André said. “Not even a fraction.”

  Matthew nodded and sat down just as André instructed. “I must be crazy.�
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  André smiled a little and opened his top drawer, pulling out what looked like a long, thin sewing needle that measured roughly six inches in length. “Hang your head a little lower,” André said, gently pushing his father’s head down, clearly exposing the spinal cord on the back of his neck. “That’s good,” he said. André closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he ran his fingers along his father’s spine, searching for the point on the base of the skull that he needed. His eyes opened when he found his mark. Glancing at the needle, he willed the tip to heat up. When the tip glowed, he swiftly plunged it into the point where his finger had been.

  Matthew didn’t move despite the sting of the needle and the sudden debilitating pain exploding in his head.

  André yanked the needle out and slashed his finger with it, dropping it on the table as he covered the pinhole in his father’s neck with the bloody tip of his finger. Closing his eyes, he let his mind follow the path of his blood into his father’s brain.

  Matthew sucked in air between his teeth audibly, the blood burning its way into his mind along with André. Bright patches of light replaced his crystal-clear vision as André’s blood reached his brainstem. The pain he initially felt began to subside.

  André followed the blood to the dark recesses of the brain, finding the film-like fiber separating the unconscious from the conscious psyche. With his mind’s eye, he willed the barrier to shatter, watching it fall into microscopic bits on the floor of his father’s mind. He felt Matthew’s pain; the lights dancing on his eyelids increased in speed and frequency and he felt the physical flood of power filling his father.

  “Jesus,” Matthew said, letting a small protest of pain escape while he gripped the chair.

  André worked quickly before the pain immobilized him. He swept the pieces into a pile and willed them to dissolve, leaving no trace of the original barrier. André physically and mentally pulled away from his father, breaking the contact between them. He sat down on the bed, getting his bearings back. His finger was still bleeding and he put it in his mouth so the crimson liquid would not drip onto the carpet.

  Matthew blinked his eyes open when the contact with André broke. The pounding in his cranium overrode all other sounds as blood and oxygen hydrated the long dormant recess of his brain. He felt like someone had taken a baseball bat to his head. “Sweet Jesus,” he muttered and glanced over at André. “How long does this last?”

  André pulled his finger out of his mouth. “Kat’s headache only lasted an hour,” he replied and reached for the tissues on the edge of the desk, wrapping one around his injured finger. “You probably should go lay down.”

  Matthew went to nod and the pain exploded through his head, causing him to moan.

  “You need help getting there?” André asked.

  “Yes,” Matthew replied, still partially blind from the pain.

  André helped his father to his bedroom.

  Matthew stretched out on the bed. “Tell Kat I’m sorry for giving her a hard time,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “This hurts like a bitch.”

  10

  December 2239

  André and Katrina walked into the complex hand in hand, heading toward Commander Lawrence’s office. Matthew looked up from his desk, surprised when they walked by. Scrambling, he bolted into the hallway.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, catching up to them.

  “I thought I’d tell my father before I started to show,” Katrina said.

  Don’t. Matthew sent the thought into both of their minds.

  André and Katrina stopped and looked at Matthew.

  “Today is not a good day.” They had just enforced another death sentence and the commander was in a particularly foul mood.

  “It’s almost Christmas,” André said. “Kat hasn’t seen her father since we came back from Chicago, Dad.”

  Matthew nodded. “I’m aware of that.” The commander asked about Katrina every day but refused to come to the house to see her or pick up the phone and call. He was still angry about the whole situation and this would not help. “But you shouldn’t ambush him at the office.”

  Katrina glanced toward her father’s office. “He’s always moody after an execution.”

  “So we do this another time?” André asked.

  Katrina nodded and turned to leave.

  Commander Lawrence stopped when he saw Katrina, André, and Matthew in his path.

  “Too late,” André whispered as he and Commander Lawrence locked eyes.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” The commander glared at André.

  “Hi, Daddy,” Katrina said trying to run interference.

  The commander had every intention of throttling André, and Matthew stepped in front of the kids, blocking Commander Lawrence.

  “Colonel, get out of my way,” the commander said, switching his gaze to Matthew, the anger that had been simmering inside for the past four months bubbling to the surface.

  Matthew shook his head. “You don’t want to do what you’re thinking,” he stated, hearing the commander’s thoughts. Since André performed his barrier-breaking ritual, Matthew could read others’ thoughts without trying.

  Commander Lawrence glared at Matthew. “How the hell do you know what I’m thinking?”

  “Because it’s written all over your face,” Matthew replied. “Sir.” Matthew snapped to attention as an afterthought.

  Commander Lawrence returned the salute with a glare. He focused his attention back to André and Katrina.

  “Dad, your office may be a better place to talk than the hallway,” Katrina said.

  Commander Lawrence nodded and headed to his office with Katrina and André in tow.

  Matthew stayed behind against his better judgment. He watched as Commander Lawrence closed his office door, but not before the two men exchanged eye contact. “Shit,” Matthew whispered and turned toward his office. He paused and shook his head to clear the waves of thoughts assaulting his mind, concentrating on only the few he wanted to hear. His eyes widened and he turned back, heading toward the commander’s office slowly at first, and then breaking into a run as his internal alarms sounded.

  “Dad, no!” Katrina screamed.

  Matthew flew into the room in time to see the knife the commander held run into André’s stomach. His anger flashed, unleashing a power burst that sent the commander sailing across the room, away from his son. Matthew bolted to André’s side, assessing the damage. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he yelled at his commander, glaring in his direction. He looked at Katrina. “Call 911,” he ordered as he pressed his hand on the cut and looked at André’s ashen face.

  “I guess he really doesn’t want to be a grandfather.” André laughed and then grimaced in pain.

  Commander Lawrence stood up. “The freak threw me across the room.” He still held the bloody knife.

  “No, I did.” Matthew glanced back at him.

  The commander’s eyes narrowed. “You?”

  Matthew nodded and returned his focus to his son. “How are you doing?”

  Katrina hung up with emergency services and returned to André’s side. She cast a glare at her father. “I can’t believe you tried to kill him, Daddy.”

  Medics and military police barged into the commander’s office, interrupting the family squabble.

  “Arrest him,” the commander bellowed, pointing at André.

  Matthew stood up, blocking the path of the military police. He shook his head. “No. Commander Lawrence attacked this young man without provocation.” He looked at his long-time friend. “Sam, you crossed the line.”

  “He got my daughter pregnant—that’s plenty of provocation,” Commander Lawrence snapped.

  “He’s my husband,” Katrina said, standing up as the medics took over.

  André looked at the nametag of one of the medics and smiled as he raised his eyes to the familiar face. “Hi, Officer Grey.”

  The medic studied the boy’s face and offered
André a smile. “It’s Captain now, son,” he said.

  “Think you can fix me?” André asked, his complexion pale as shock threatened to take over.

  Cal inspected the wound. “Not a problem.” He looked back up at the scene unfolding in the commander’s office.

  “He stabbed my husband,” Katrina snapped, pointing at her father. “He’s the one who needs to be arrested.”

  The confused MPs looked between Matthew, Katrina and the commander. The commander still had the weapon in his hand and that clinched the decision.

  “Drop the knife, sir,” Captain Shaw, the head military police officer ordered. He put his hand on the laser gun at his side.

  “Excuse me?” Commander Lawrence balked.

  “The knife, sir. Please drop it,” Captain Shaw said for the second time, unclipping the laser and setting it to stun in one motion. He pointed it at the commander.

  Commander Lawrence glanced at the bloody knife that he still gripped and then around the room at the faces. His eyes fell on André. “Son of a bitch,” he growled and took a step toward them, the knife still clamped in his fist.

  “Stand down, sir!” Captain Shaw shouted and when Commander Lawrence ignored him, he shot the laser gun, slamming a debilitating shock into the commander’s chest, knocking him backwards onto the ground.

  André’s expression changed, his eyes widening as he watched the commander convulsing on the floor. “He’s not okay,” he whispered and shot his eyes to his father. “Dad, he isn’t okay.”

  Matthew turned toward the commander. “Cal, the commander needs help!” he said loud enough to call the attention of everyone within earshot.

  Cal turned. “Shit.” He bolted across the room, leaving André in the hands of the second medic. He grabbed the flailing arm holding the knife and pinned it to the floor under his knee. The commander’s face turned blue and his eyes rolled back in his head as he flopped like a fish out of water. Cal forced open the commander’s jaws, reaching in, grasping the tip of his tongue and yanked as the commander’s teeth clamped shut on his fingers. “God damn!” he screamed, trying to free his crushed fingers. He forced open the commander’s jaws enough to yank his hand out, pulling his bloody fingers to his chest. “Sandy, I need your help with this one, otherwise we’re going to lose him,” Cal shouted.