André went into the bathroom and closed the door, exhaustion overtaking his confused mind. “What the hell?” he asked his reflection and then splashed cold water on his face to erase the images from behind his eyelids. “Sex vibe?” he muttered and finally understood what Katrina alluded to. “Shit, how long is this going to last?” he said and took a deep breath, almost laughing aloud.
He wiped his face and stepped back in the dark room, crossing to check on Sam. The baby slept peacefully in the crib next to the bed and André looked down at him with a small smile, gently laying his hand on the baby’s head before he slid into bed next to Katrina. Pulling her against him, he kissed the back of her neck as she slept. She let out a soft moan at his touch and burrowed closer but didn’t wake. André closed his eyes.
The cry of their son filled the space and André sat up, disoriented by the bright, sunny room.
Katrina rolled over next to him, blinking and wiping the sleep from her eyes. “What time is it?” She yawned.
“I have no clue,” André replied, his voice raspy from sleeping. He got out of the bed and wandered over to the portable crib. “Hey there,” he croaked, smiling at his crying child. He changed the diaper and brought Sam to Katrina along with a bottle, crawling back into the narrow hospital bed.
André smiled up at Katrina. “Morning,” he said as an afterthought and kissed her gently.
“Morning.” Her smile faded with his silent confession.
“You let her?” She gasped.
“No. I was asleep and when I woke, she was there. I stopped her before anything happened. I wasn’t thinking straight and I used the influence on her, much harder than I meant to, so I don’t think she’ll remember a thing.” He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, wiping his face with his hands.
“I hope you scrambled her fucking brains,” Katrina snapped.
“Kat, watch your language.”
“Bite me.”
He reached out to touch her face and she knocked his hand away. “Not now.” The edge of a smile curved her lips as his vibe began to affect her. She shook her head angrily. “Stop that,” she said, blushing.
“Stop what? I’m not doing anything!” He stood and began to pace around the room, stopping at the window to watch the last of the sunrise.
“You are,” Katrina said, her aggravation diffusing with his predatory gait. You really don’t know what you’re doing, do you?
André sighed and shook his head, glancing back at her. “I’ve got no clue.”
“Well, just don’t let it happen again.”
André snorted, like he could control whatever was going on, but he nodded anyway. “I have to go into school today,” he said, glancing back at her. “I’ve got finals.”
“I’ll have to reschedule mine.” The baby burped in her ear and she shifted him in to her arms.
“I’ll only be gone for a couple hours.”
“Don’t you have practice?”
André offered a small smile. “Yeah, but being here is more important.”
“You’re so full of shit.” Katrina laughed. “You’re just trying to win brownie points.”
André glanced at her sideways, his crooked smile charming her. “Is it working?”
“A little.”
He went to her side and gently took his son from her arms. Taking him to the crib, he checked the diaper and grimaced at the brown sludge inside. André undid the diaper and got a chest full of urine as the stream arced from the baby. Sam cooed and kicked his legs.
“Ah, come on,” he said to his son, looking down at his soaked shirt.
Katrina burst out laughing until tears squeezed out of the corner of her eyes. She held her stomach in obvious discomfort, but the hilarity of the situation struck a chord and she couldn’t stop laughing.
Chuckling, he finished changing Sam and then stripped his wet shirt, dropping it on the floor and using a couple of baby wipes to clean his hands, chest and stomach.
Her laughter stopped the moment his shirt peeled over his head and he shot a glance in her direction and picked up Sam.
She was on her feet, approaching him with that hungry look.
The one she used to give him at the house.
The one that set his blood boiling in his veins, throbbing through his skin.
The one that drove him over the edge and this time was no different.
“Oh no, you don’t. The doctor said six weeks.”
She didn’t stop, closing the distance within seconds, faster than she should have been able to move under the circumstances. She reached him, running her fingers over the front of his pants.
“Kat.” He chuckled and stepped away, his eyes burning and he knew they went full-fledged iridescent, maybe even laser red.
Katrina stepped closer. “I want you,” she whispered.
André sidestepped away from her. “You can’t have me right now. Besides, not in front of the baby.”
“Ah, but you want me.”
“Damn straight. But I can’t have you for the next month or so.” He licked his lips and tilted his head a bit. “When I do...baby, when I do, I want to hear you in the next county,” he drawled, his voice low and sultry as the urge to throw caution to the wind almost engulfed him. He looked down at his son and raised only his eyes back to meet his wife’s before handing her their son and disappearing into the bathroom. He flipped the lock. There would be no telling his libido to shut down if she cornered him in the shower, no matter what the water temperature.
He dialed the shower to the coldest setting and stripped; stepping inside, the sting of the freezing water nearly ripped a yelp from his chest. He forced himself to stand under the icy spray until shivering and no longer teetering on tearing her clothes off. He turned off the water and looked up at the ceiling. Lord, please give me the strength to obey the doctor’s orders.
Katrina waited outside the bathroom with Sam in her arms and when the door opened, she handed the baby to André and slipped inside without a word, grabbing the bag with her clothing before she shut the door behind her.
“Hey, little man.” He put his finger in the baby’s hand and Sam immediately grasped it.
Matthew knocked on the door, peering inside. “Good morning,” he said and stepped into the room. “Where’s Kat?”
“Shower.” André pointed with his chin. “Where’s Mom?”
“She’ll be in later. I figured I’d swing in on the way to work to say hello to my grandson.” He marched across the room and put his arms out for Sam.
André handed over his son. “What time is it?” he asked as his father pulled Sam to his chest.
“Almost eight,” Matthew replied.
“Shit, I have to go,” André said, looking at the bathroom door. “I’ve got an exam in less than an hour and I still need to swing home and change.”
“Go on, I’ll wait till Kat gets out.” Matthew smiled and settled into the chair his son just vacated.
André glanced at the bathroom door on the way out of the room. I’m heading out. Dad’s here with the baby, he silently conveyed to Katrina in the shower.
I’ll see you in a bit. He heard her voice in his head and smiled.
André didn’t bother calling out; he just bound up the stairs and into the bedroom, swinging the door closed behind him. He stripped and tossed his clothes into the corner, before pulling on a fresh set of boxers and jeans. Turning to sit on the edge of the bed, he caught Linda staring at him from the wide open door and he froze in place. His mind had been too preoccupied with what he needed to do for his exam to hear her thoughts, but now they shined through the haze like a lighthouse in a storm. “How long have you been there?”
Linda grinned. “Long enough,” she said and went to step inside the room.
André put up his hand in a stop signal and with it, an invisible wall. He recognized the wanting in her eyes and her thoughts. “Cut the shit, Mom,” he snapped, and resumed putting his socks on while keeping the barrie
r intact.
Linda walked smack into the barricade, her jaw going slack with surprise.
André ignored her and slid his sneakers back on. He grabbed a shirt and the keys to the hovercraft and turned toward her. “Mom, you have to move.” When she didn’t, he physically moved her aside with his mind. He shot her a get-a-grip look and disappeared down the hall and out of the house.
“Jesus, what the hell am I transmitting?” he muttered under his breath and put the hovercraft in gear, heading toward the school.
André pulled into the parking lot with fifteen minutes to spare and leaned back in the seat, rubbing his face with his hands and trying to focus on the advanced calculus exam. He got his mind set and stepped out of the craft. All motion around him stopped and every female in the parking lot and in front of the school turned to look at him. “Shit.”
Two of his ex-girlfriends were already making a beeline toward him. He sidestepped them, walking directly into the school. A line of women followed and converged on him before he was able to get to the classroom.
They steered him into an empty room, groping and pulling at his clothing.
“Stop!” he yelled, but no one listened. The aggravation brewing shot out of him and the group pushed away as if a giant broom swept a five-foot arch around him. He stood in the center of the open space, glancing around. “What the hell is wrong with y’all?”
He singled one of the girls out with his eyes. “Hannah, you’re Kat’s best friend.”
“When the cat’s away, the mice will play,” Hannah purred.
André glared at them. “You do not want me,” he muttered and pushed the thought on the group.
Most of the girls blinked, looked at one another and at André in confusion. They dispersed, leaving only a handful who had been out in the hallway. They approached André, stalking him as they circled, blocking his path to the door.
“Girls, I have an exam right now,” he sighed, exhausted.
“A physical exam,” Anna said, slipping up to him and running her hands up his chest.
Her brown eyes sparkled, much more than he remembered, and his mind went back to their fling a year ago. She was one of his more memorable conquests: lithe and athletic, her cheerleading skills translated well into the bedroom. Shaking the thought from his head, he took a step back, right into the big desk in the front of the classroom and said, “Anna, I’m not in the mood.”
“Seems to me I recall you’re always in the mood.” She rubbed her hands over the front of his pants and the other girls stepped closer.
André let out a nervous laugh and his body responded to her touch despite his better judgment.
“Mmmm,” Anna purred. “Five-on-one. I bet you never dreamed you’d ever get this chance.”
André raised his eyebrow and blinked, pulling his gaze away from Anna and the other cheerleaders caressing his clothing. He squirmed away from the desk, trying to break free of their insistent hands. “I can’t do this,” André whispered without the conviction needed to break the spell. He shook his head to clear it and peeled the girls off him, heading in the direction of the door.
Anna grabbed his arm and spun him toward her, planting a hot, wet kiss on him.
André’s resistance was at the limit and he closed his eyes, allowing her to explore his mouth with her tongue. Hands reached and rubbed and it was only when his shirt hiked up his chest that he broke the spell, pushing Anna away and yelling, “No!”
He stalked into the hallway, heading straight for his calculus exam. The bell rang just as he slid in to his seat and he tensed against the budding frustration itching just under his skin. His frustration increased a notch as all eyes bore into him. “Come on,” he mumbled and rolled his eyes.
Mr. Samuels, his calculus teacher, stared at him with a slack jaw.
“What?” André growled at the intense stare.
“Your eyes.”
The teacher’s terror filled his head and André bit down on the angry retort to all the rampant thoughts flying around the room, from the hot, seductive thoughts of the girls to the stunned fear in the male population. “I know. Just hand out the fucking test,” André snapped. He closed his eyes and hung his head for a moment, concentrating on calming his emotions. When he looked back up, he scanned the classroom and finally met the professor’s gaze. “Apparently, having a baby makes my eyes freak out,” he added, trying to throw a brief bone of levity into the room.
“Kat had the baby?” Adam, one of his teammates, asked.
“Yeah, yesterday.” He glanced back at Adam.
“And it did that to your eyes?” Adam gasped.
André smiled. “Yes and no,” he said. He looked back at the professor. “Are we taking an exam today?” He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms.
The professor fumbled with the papers on his desk.
“Or do we all get A’s?” André said and pushed the thought into the professor’s head. He watched as the professor blinked, looked down at the blank tests and his grade book and then up at the class.
“You all have an A average. I don’t think an exam is necessary,” he said and wandered out of the classroom.
The students stared at the empty doorway with wide eyes and slack jaws, their collective gaze slowly focused back on André.
André’s smile faded. Oh crap!
“How the hell did you do that?” Adam asked.
“Yeah?” The resounding response from thirty students sounded at once.
André shrugged and took a deep breath. “I dunno,” he mumbled and looked at his hands.
“I don’t care how you did it.” The girl who was sitting behind him slid out of her seat and knelt on the floor beside him. She ran her hands up his legs.
André grabbed her wrists and glanced over at Adam. His jaw clenched as he took note that a few of the other girls were heading in his direction. He closed his eyes. You do not want me, he thought and sent targeted pushes to the women heading in his direction. When he opened his eyes, the girl kneeling on the floor stared at him with the same dazed confusion the professor had on his face before he left the room.
“What are you?” Adam whispered.
André let out a laugh. “I’m a seventeen-year-old father,” he said and stood to leave.
“Bullshit,” Adam said.
André turned back toward Adam and the rest of his class; any hint of amusement vanished with the accusatory stares. “Look, I’ve had a long couple of days. I’m tired and this isn’t a discussion I’m inclined to participate in,” he said with a voice thick with the Texan accent. Thoughts accosted him with words like monster, freak, and alien, the last sending chills up his spine. A warning prickled his neck and he spun back toward his class, raising his hand and caught the apple sailing toward his head.
Adam leaned back in his seat. “You ain’t one of us,” he said.
André tossed the apple in the air and caught it. “Maybe not, but we wouldn’t have made it to the championship this year without me,” he said and shined the apple, taking a bite before heading out into the hall. Kat, I royally screwed up, he thought and took another bite, stepping outside. Royally.
How so? Her voice resounded in his head, and he faltered, flustered by the clarity in her thought broadcast to the point he wondered if she actually could read his mind at this distance and hoped like hell that wasn’t the case.
They saw my eyes.
You screwed around on me? Her voice carried through his head.
“No. I was ambushed,” he said aloud from the confines of the hovercraft. And then my class saw my eyes and they saw me use the influence on the teacher. “So I think my secret may be out sooner than anyone anticipated,” he said to himself.
André walked into the hospital room fifteen minutes later.
Katrina’s eyebrows furrowed. “Since when do you wear lipstick?”
André headed into the bathroom and took a quick glimpse in the mirror, letting out a laugh at the traces of pink lipstick on t
he corner of his mouth, cheek, and neck. He grabbed a paper towel and erased the damning evidence. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. All I know is this thing is out of hand.” He tossed the towel into the garbage and stepped back in the room. “It’s like all the females I come in contact with are affected by a weird aphrodisiac and I’m the benefactor.” He met her sour gaze. “I didn’t ask for this, Kat. I didn’t ask for the entire female population of our school to corner me in a classroom either.”
“You let them close enough to leave lipstick?” She pushed her chin out in irritation, her lips pursing with disbelief.
André looked at the floor, heat filling his cheeks. “I guess.”
If she had been standing, her foot would have started tapping the floor with impatience. Instead, she pressed her lips together, leveling a hostile gaze that spoke volumes to the tumult inside her.
“I sent a wave of influence through the room and everyone inside stopped, but I didn’t think to send that web farther, like through the entire school, so when the masses left, the cheerleading squad cornered me. That’s where I got the lipstick marks.”
“Anna,” Kat said, her tone laced with disappointment and a dash of jealousy.
“Yep.” André flopped into the chair, leaning his temple on his fist, closing his eyes as the exhaustion weighed on his muscles, dragging him down toward sleep.
Katrina let out a small laugh. “I don’t know about your daddy,” she whispered.
“What don’t you know?” The corner of his mouth twitched into a grin and he opened one eye, focusing on her.
“I’m the one who should be tired.”
André’s eyes fluttered open. “Sorry. Did you want some sleep?”
Katrina nodded. “A little would help.”
André stood, stretching the sleep from his muscles before he collected his son from her, kissing her gently on the forehead in the process. He slid back in the chair, smiling down into his son’s inquisitive eyes. “How long was my dad here?” he asked with a yawn.
“About an hour. The doctor came by after he left and said I’m doing well enough to go home tonight after dinner,” she replied. Settling down on her side, she closed her eyes, drifting into a restless sleep within minutes.
Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection Page 108