Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by hamilton, rebecca

  “And it will get everyone off our backs?”

  He smiles. “Well, off yours. Yes.”

  I nod. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

  His smile widens. “Thank you.”

  “But—” I hold a finger up. “I don’t want your sister or mother having anything to do with it. Just you.”

  He nods. “We can arrange that.”

  For some reason, my eyes find the clock on his wall again.

  It’s 9:16.

  FOR THE NEXT several minutes, I stare at Mac’s back as he presses his hands against his door and mutters in a language I don’t know. At least this time I think I recognize it. It sounds like Italian. I want to ask what he’s doing, but for some reason, I think that might break his concentration, and he’ll have to start all over again.

  So, I twiddle my thumbs and try to be patient. My leg bobs up and down. Patience isn’t a virtue I ever plan on adding to my very short list of virtues. Before I start to eat my hair, he turns to me, his eyes glowing white.

  Literally.

  I forget the concept of breathing because he is so beautiful in that moment. Even more beautiful than the place he calls paradise. Slowly, the light drains from his eyes, and they sparkle like emeralds again. I struggle to get air into my lungs and start making a noise like a baby seal getting beaten to death.

  I wince. What a terrible metaphor.

  He raises his eyebrows at me. “Are you okay?”

  Still making the weird noise, I nod.

  A slow smile creeps across his face. “Are you sure?”

  I nod quickly. Too quickly. Then I clear my throat. “Um, what were you doing there?”

  “A barrier spell. It gives me the time I need to get whatever is in you out of you without interference.”

  I nod. “And if there’s nothing in me?”

  He takes off his robe and tosses it on his desk then pulls his amber wand from the loop in his jeans.

  “I don’t think that will be the case.”

  Eyeing the wand, I start to panic. What if he sees something that leads him to Charming, and they kick him out? I bite down on my lip.

  “Mac?”

  He looks up from the large, leather journal he’s flipping through. “Yes?”

  “If there isn’t anything in me… Do you think you can tell everyone there was?”

  His eyebrows draw together. “Why would I do that?”

  I shrug. “I just… Don’t want to be bothered again about it.”

  Mac shuts his book, places it back on the shelf, and sighs. “Kinsley, we really need to figure out how you breached that line. The only explanation is that some spirit with magical ability infested you.”

  I wrinkle my nose at the word infested. Like I have a case of lice. Black people don’t get that shit, or in my case, mixed people.

  “Okay, but can’t we keep it between us? You know…” I give him what I hope is a seductive smile. “Figure it out… together?”

  His forehead wrinkles, and he suddenly looks frustrated. “Why?”

  “It’s just important to me.”

  He stares at me before throwing up his wand hand. “You baffle me, Miss… Kinsley.”

  I shrug. “Sorry?”

  He gives me a stern look, and I feel another lecture coming on.

  “I’ll agree to this only if we’re really going to figure this out together.”

  I cross my fingers over my heart. Mentally, I cross my fingers behind my back. “Promise.”

  He nods. “Good. Ready to get started then?”

  Taking in a deep breath, I nod. “I suppose so.”

  My mind shifts to the pills in my purse. I’d really like to pop one before undergoing another spell, but that might bring the stern dad back out in Mac. I really don’t like that Mac.

  People should really leave people and their drugs alone. We aren’t hurting anyone.

  Mac holds his hands up in the air and stares with an intensity that almost makes my panties jump off and walk right into his hands.

  “Brace yourself,” he tells me in a husky voice.

  My mouth opens, and I start to ask, “For what?” when he flicks his wand at me.

  Air is ripped from my lungs. I let out a gasp and am thrown back onto the bed. I strain to lift my arms and legs off the bed, but they might as well be bound with rope.

  Normally, the thought of being tied to Mac Harker’s bed would excite me. This is just terrifying. With a grunt, I struggle against the invisible pressure bearing down on me. Sweat beads up on my forehead. My jaw clenches with the effort. And all of it is of no use. I’m not going anywhere. Not until Mac lets me.

  “Try to relax,” he says as he inches toward me.

  As he stares down at me with his lips moving with some unheard speech, he is still beautiful, only now he is beautiful and scary as hell. His wand points at my midsection, and his voice, a deep rumble, roars louder.

  Things start to rattle all around me. My gaze darts all over the room. When I stare up at Mac again, he is the picture of power. But I don’t have time to dwell on that because there is something happening in my stomach. I don’t know how to describe it, but it feels like Mac is trying to pull something out of me.

  Something I need.

  I gasp again and struggle against his magical restraints. It seems like the more I struggle, the harder it becomes to move. I try to call out his name, to beg him to stop, but my mouth can’t form the words.

  Then he is yelling. I move my eyes, the only part of me that I can move, over to his face. His face is draped in shadow, and his arms are raised toward the ceiling. He screams more words that I don’t understand, and my skin vibrates in time with his voice.

  It doesn’t hurt; it’s just really uncomfortable. I feel like he’s invading me. Taking things out, turning them over to check if they’re clean, then putting them back inside. I don’t like it. I shouldn’t have agreed to this. I open my mouth and let out silent screams.

  Just as I think I’m about to lose my mind, Mac raises his hands above his head and stares at me, or rather through me.

  Then he hisses, “Be gone.”

  With the first words I understand since he started the spell, the pressure leaves. I gulp down air.

  He rushes to my side and helps me sit up. “Are you all right?”

  I pant and nod.

  “Are you sure?” He wipes the sweat from my forehead.

  How sexy am I right now?

  “Yeah.” Gulp. “I’m fine.”

  “Would you like some water?”

  I shake my head. “No, thanks.” I start to ask for something stronger, like more of that wine that made my mother so docile, but decide against it. Glancing sidelong at him, I ask, “Well, was there anything in me?”

  I already know the answer before he shakes his head.

  “No.” His face is the picture of frustration. “Something is wrong. Very wrong.”

  “Or…” I shrug one shoulder. “Maybe it’s nothing, and you’re overreacting.”

  He scoffs. “Is that what you think?”

  I raise an eyebrow, confused by his sudden hostility. My first instinct is to cower away from it like I usually do. But the idea of doing that pisses me off. So, I raise my chin. “Yeah, that is what I think.”

  “Well, I think I know a bit more about magic than you do.”

  I snort. “Yeah, doesn’t mean you’re always right.” My eyes narrow to slits. “Or that you’re not being a fucked rubber duck.”

  His mouth opens, closes, then opens again. “A what?”

  “An asshole. Being a witch doesn’t mean you’re not being an asshole.”

  His nostrils flare. “I’m trying to protect you here!”

  I cross my arms over my chest. That’s when I notice I’m shivering and covered in goosebumps. “What makes you think I need your protection?” I snort. “Why do guys always jump on that fence?” I look away from him. “I’d rather have your respect.”

  We sit for the next few minutes in
silence. Finally, Mac clears his throat.

  “I do respect you, Kinsley.”

  He reaches out and rubs my shoulder. I can’t help the jolt of excitement that courses through me. Or the shiver. I’m freezing cold.

  “You’re trembling,” he says in a near whisper.

  I turn slightly toward him. “Well, I’m wet.”

  With flushed cheeks, he looks away.

  “Oh, God!” I laugh. “You know what I mean. From the waterfall.”

  He nods then stands up. Looking down, he shoots me a sexy smile. “Of course. My apologies. Sometimes you drag my thoughts down to the gutter.”

  It’s my turn to blush. I duck my head. “Sometimes?”

  “More than sometimes.” He chuckles. “I’ll give you a moment to change.”

  “Thank you,” I say, still looking down.

  “My pleasure.”

  His footsteps shuffle away from me, and the door opens and clicks closed.

  Hopping off the bed, I trudge toward the corner to get my overnight bag. Then I pull out my jeans and a navy blue tank top with extra support built in. Thank you, Torrid. I strip off my wet dress and underwear and slide into dry clothes. I dig around and pull out a black sweat jacket and slip my arms into it. My eyes home in on my purse at the end of Mac’s bed.

  I sit back down and fish around for my medicine. Just having my hands around the bottle makes me feel better. Makes me feel like I’m going to be okay. The top popping open fills me with anticipation of that rush. I’m just about to swallow one when the sound of something tinkering near Mac’s bedroom window draws my attention.

  There is something just outside on his window sill. It glistens in the moonlight. I stuff the pills into my pocket and head toward it. The latches click as I undo them and push the window up. My fingers trail toward the glistening object.

  It’s a rose. I wrap my hand around it and hold it up. It’s made of quartz and has my name engraved on the stem.

  With a tiny smile, I whisper, “Charming.”

  As soon as the words part my lips, a sense of weightlessness enters me, and I get the sensation of traveling upward. With a panicked gasp, I try to grab on to something, but there is nothing to grab on to.

  My heart clenches in fear as I travel through space where there is nothing to see or hear.

  Then I’m in the middle of a field full of impossibly tall stargazer lilies, standing right in front of Charming.

  9

  I GRASP THE crystal rose in my hand so tightly, it leaves an imprint in my palm.

  “What the hell?” My gaze darts around until it lands back on him.

  He’s staring down at me with a tense jaw and his blue eyes shining in the moonlight, looking like the kind of deep, crystal water you see on postcards rather than the bullshit water you usually get once you show up at the resort.

  For a second, I want to jump on him. Seeing him standing there, scowling and intense is hot for some reason. Even when I realize that the intense scowl is for me, tingles race up and down my skin.

  Not that I’m going to let him know.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  His jaw flexes. “I can smell his magic on you,” he says with unwarranted hostility.

  “What?”

  “Mac Harker. He did a spell on you?”

  I shake my head. “What does it matter? And how did I even get here?”

  He points at the rose in my hand with clear impatience. “The rose. When you said my name, it brought you to me.”

  I would think it was a slick move except I’m really tired of traveling via witch teleportation tactics and, well, he’s pissed off at me for some reason I can’t begin to imagine.

  “What?” he says in reaction to whatever look is on my face. “It’s not like I can just walk up to the front door.”

  My nose wrinkles. “I would have found you again.”

  “I wanted you out of there now.”

  Yeah, that’s not at all creepy. I sigh. “Why the hell are you so upset right now?”

  “Did he see me?”

  I raise an eyebrow.

  He sighs. “When he cast the spell. Did he see me?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  I tuck the rose in one of my belt loops and plant my hands on my hips. “You know, I really think you have the wrong idea about Mac. He’s kind. He’d welcome you here. I mean, his mom and sister are creepy, but…”

  * * *

  Charming storms toward me, and I back away. I almost fall back on my ass.

  * * *

  “You can’t tell him I’m here. You promised me.”

  I don’t know if I’m more excited or scared by his sudden closeness or the edge in his voice. Before I make that decision, I place a hand on his chest and push him back.

  “You need to calm down.” I take in a shallow breath. “I’m not going to tell him, but don’t jump on my shit again.” I raise my chin, defiant even though I’m trembling.

  His forehead creases. For a moment, he looks ashamed.

  “I’m sorry. I just… You don’t know him.”

  “I don’t know you.”

  He nods. “True. And I don’t know you.”

  “Well, I didn’t show up someplace randomly looking for you.”

  His eyebrows slam together, his eyes flashing in frustration. “Neither did I.”

  I stare up into his face, my own frustration mounting. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Who are you, Kinsley?” he asks in a harsh voice.

  “What?”

  “Who. Are. You?” He holds his hand out and frowns at me.

  I stare at it, shaking my head in confusion. Then a bottle of pills appears in his hand. My mouth is agape as I pat my pockets.

  Of course my pills are gone.

  Jesus, what is with these witches? Maybe I should take my chances with the ghosts freely wandering the streets terrorizing people.

  I make a grab for the pills, and he zips his hand behind him. I glower.

  “Give them back.”

  “Why? What do you take them for?”

  I sigh. “None of your business.”

  “Trust me.” His eyes light up a torrent of anger. “It is my business.”

  I can’t decide if I’m more confused or angry.

  “What does that even mean?”

  “Tell me about the pills.”

  I pry my gaze from his face and shake my head.

  “Please,” he says in a much softer voice.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and risk looking back at him. Bad idea. The look on his face makes me want to spill everything. The anger is gone, as if it were all a figment of my imagination. I can’t imagine a face like that becoming such an angry mask. But it did.

  Then there is the feeling I get looking up at him. Like he needs to know for some reason, and I owe it to him to tell him. But what could I possibly owe this douche bag? We just met, and barely.

  I sigh. “A year ago, I got into a pretty bad accident,” I say, unable to believe the words as they spill out of my mouth. “I banged up my knee pretty bad. Had to do PT, the works. That’s what the pills are for.”

  “Which knee?” he asks, looking down.

  I raise an eyebrow. He just gets weirder and weirder. And yet, I’m not walking away. “Um, my left?”

  He gets down on his knees and stares at my left leg. I go rigid, uncomfortable and fascinated at the same time.

  “This knee?” He peers up at me and places a hand on the area he’s asking about.

  Fireworks burst all over my body. My breath shivers as I take it in, making my lungs ache. Making my entire body ache. I’m surprised my legs are still able to support me.

  I can’t speak, so I just nod down at him.

  His hand reaches toward the back of my knee, his fingers tickling me. When he stands up, he bends my leg and lowers his face toward mine. He gives my leg a gentle tug.

  “You sure it’s this knee? Are you in pain?” His
voice is breathless.

  My eyes close slightly, and I nod again.

  He lifts my leg higher and he’s not so gentle this time. It’s almost rough. I gasp, and my lady parts tighten up with need.

  “Answer me, Kinsley.”

  My eyes flutter wide open. I feel dazed. I nod again.

  “Verbally, Kinsley. Use your words.”

  Is he fucking with me? Did my nipples just get hard? What the hell is going on here? I clear my throat, unable to think. Charming inches his face even closer. Our lips are almost touching. I trail my tongue over my bottom lip in anticipation.

  “I didn’t hear you,” he whispers.

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “No what?”

  I swallow. “No, it doesn’t hurt.”

  He nods and smiles. “Good. I wouldn’t want you in pain.”

  I inch my face closer to his. Then, just like that, he lowers my leg and rattles the pills in front of me.

  “Then why are you still taking them?” The tenderness has gone out of his eyes. He doesn’t look mad, but a combination of frustrated and concerned.

  What a lady boner killer.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Wow.” I scoff. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” I jab my finger into his chest as hard as I can. I manage to stave off a wince. It’s like poking marble.

  He looks down at my finger, unimpressed. “I could say the same thing about you.”

  “You don’t even know me!” My finger jabs at him three more times.

  “That’s why I’m here!” he shouts, almost making me jump back.

  I’m too sexually frustrated and confused to be easily intimidated right now.

  “These…” He holds up the pills for emphasis. “Cut you off from your feelings. I think it’s bullshit.”

  I bite my lip in anger. Oh, and the stupid tears come and burn my eyes. I’m tired of being judged. Real damn tired.

  His eyes soften almost right away. “Kinsley.” He reaches for me, and I jerk out of reach.

  “Screw you, Charming, or whatever you name is.” I turn on my heels and start to walk away. Everything in front of me is stems and petals blowing in the breeze. His footsteps tromp behind me, and I speed up.