“When the night is almost over.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What about your mom?”
He shrugs. “She’s not around either.”
“Why?”
He shakes his head, and I stomp my foot in frustration. “You know I’ve slept with you twice, and I still don’t know your real name. I hope it’s a lot better than Charming.”
“It is.” He winks at me.
“Well, what is it?”
He shakes his head again.
“That’s not fair.”
“Lots of things aren’t.”
I glance over my shoulder and stare at my old digital clock. It’s three o’clock. We must have been trapped in Gemma’s hat for quite some time.
“The night is technically over,” I say, turning back to him.
He shakes his head a third time. “Tonight isn’t over until six thirty in the morning. Twelve hours from when the dead get to walk free.” He grins. “I hope you’re ready to watch the sun ruse.”
“I don’t understand why you can’t just tell me now,” I complain, ignoring everything he just said.
“Because.” He leans over and plants a kiss on my cheek. “If you know too much about me now, it will ruin our night.”
“How?”
“Just trust me.”
I lean away. “You’re not a serial killer, are you?”
He laughs. “Far from it.”
I smile. “Well, that’s good at least.” I sigh and glance over at the bathroom. “I need to shower. I smell like I had the dead inside me.”
He laughs. It warms every inch of my body.
“Sounds good.” He steps to the side so he’s no longer in front of the bathroom door.
I smile and walk past him, giving him a wink as I do. Then I duck into the bathroom and close the door behind me.
I TURN ON the hot water and step into the spray. It hits me full blast in the face, revitalizing me. Turning around, I let the water run through my hair and grab the shampoo. When I open it, the scent of peaches rushes up my nose. It’s the same shampoo my mother used to buy me.
This is really freaky, but I’m starting to get used to it.
I lather up my hair, rinse, and then scrub down with the same scented body wash and let the steaming hot water run over my body. I let my eyes fall closed. The shower curtain is ripped open. I jump and start to fall backward.
Charming reaches out to grab me with a grin stretched across his lips.
Breathing hard, I ask, “What are you doing?”
He tilts his head to the side. My eyes scan down his body. He’s naked, and my nipples go hard.
Again.
“You didn’t think I wouldn’t take advantage of this, would you?” He steps in, and I step to the back of the shower. “And now that you’re clean…” He reaches out and pulls me close. “You’re going to get dirty.”
Before I can say anything, he mashes his lips against mine. His kiss is rough, territorial. I melt into his arms. My heart pounds in my ears. He pulls away and kisses my eyelids. My cheeks. The space below my ears. Then he grabs me by the arm and forces me around. When he bends me over, the space between my legs starts to ache.
I ache for him.
He rubs the head of his cock against me, making me wetter. He slides a little of himself into me then pulls out. Then he does it again. And again.
I turn my head slightly, about ready to climb the walls. “What are you doing?”
He slides his hands up and down his beautiful dick with a smug grin on his face. “You want me?”
I almost roll my eyes. “Yes, badly. Now come on.”
“Say it.”
I frown.
“Tell me you’re mine.”
I bite down on my lip. “Seriously?”
He rubs himself against me again, and my eyelids flutter closed. “Dead serious. Tell me, Kinsley.”
I turn back around. “I’m yours.”
He slides himself into me, all the way this time. My knees almost buckle, but he grabs me by the hips to steady me.
“Say it again,” he demands in a husky voice as he thrusts himself into me.
“I’m yours, Charming. All of me is yours.”
I shove my hips back to meet him. He digs his fingers in my hair and pulls.
“Again.”
“I’m yours. Oh, God. I’m yours.”
He thrusts into me until I climax. But he doesn’t stop. He fucks me in slow and fast intervals and from every angle we can manage in the shower. The entire time he wants me to say it. He wants to hear that I’m his.
And I tell him.
Because I am.
Tonight and every night after.
AN HOUR LATER, Charming and I sit dried and clothed in my old living room. With our backs to the loveseat, we stare at the flames crackling in the fireplace. It’s nifty having a witch around. He didn’t even need any wood to start it.
He turns to me and licks his lips. It makes me want to kiss them.
“Tell me something about yourself. Something nobody else knows,” he says.
I purse my lips, clasp my hands over one knee, and bring it up under my chin. “Hm. That’s hard. There’s not much to know about me.”
He snorts. “Bullshit.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“You’re one of the most famous of the ghost-possessed in the country. There’s got to be a ton of things about you worth knowing.”
“Being possessed by a ghost doesn’t automatically make you interesting.”
He shrugs. “Actually, you’re not entirely right about that.”
I stare at him.
“Most ghosts are notoriously picky. They don’t like riding around in any old skin. There was something about that ghost last year that made it seek you out. There was something about you Reyna knew she could use. Plus, you’re capable of touch magic.”
I frown. “That’s because of you.”
“That’s partly because of me.” He leans his head on my shoulder. “Now answer the question. Something no one in the world knows. Not even your parents.”
I rest my head on the top of his and ponder his question. At first I can’t think of anything. Then…
“I’m afraid of ostriches.”
He lifts his head and turns to me. He blinks a few times then bursts out laughing. “What?”
“They hiss!”
He bends over and shakes with laughter. The sound of it makes me smile.
I cross my arms over my chest and feign being offended. “That’s the last time I confess my fears to you.”
He throws up his hands. “I’m sorry. I’ve just never heard that one before.”
I shrug. “In packs, they can grow aggressive and peck at people. I’ve seen videos on the internet.”
He laughs again and tucks my hair behind my ear. He seems to love doing that.
“You’re amazing,” he says.
“Because I’m afraid of ostriches?”
He shakes his head. “That and other things.” His expression grows serious. “But that’s not the kind of thing I want to know. I want to know something deep. Something that makes you, you.”
I bite my lip. “That’s a lot harder.”
“That’s why I want to know.”
I stare back at the fire and watch it dance. There is something. But I don’t want to say it out loud. I don’t want him to look at me differently. And he will. He won’t be able to help it. Hell, even I judge myself for the secret hanging off the tip of my tongue.
My mouth opens almost without my control. “There is something.”
He twists his body toward me. “I’m listening.”
I take in a deep breath, and a tremble rushes through my body.
“Hey.” He reaches out and rubs my shoulder. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m already yours.”
I try to smile but don’t quite make it there. “You don’t even know what I’m about to say.”
“It doesn’t matter. I know your he
art. I’ve felt it.” His tone is so sincere, it gives me a little courage. Still, the thought of telling him floods me with fear. I want him to always look at me the way he’s been looking at me for most of the night.
“It would be nice to finally say it out loud,” I admit.
“Then do.”
I take in a deep breath and close my eyes. “Last year, I was possessed by a ghost.”
He sighs. “That’s it? Everybody knows that.”
I open my eyes and turn to him. “I’m not finished.”
His face goes still as he waits for more.
I force myself not to look away from that intense gaze. “I hit someone with my car that night.”
He shifts uncomfortably and looks down. “Everybody knows that, too.”
“And I got off because of the ghost possession.”
He sighs, growing impatient. “Everybody knows that, too.”
“Well, what they don’t know is that I don’t think the ghost was entirely responsible.”
His gaze snaps up to search my face. “What do you mean?”
I hug my knees closer to my chest. “I don’t know exactly how to explain it. But it’s like throughout that night I had these moments of clarity. Moments where I was able to expand and become me. The ghost was pressed down. He’d take over again, but while I was driving that car…” I bite my lip and start to shake.
Taking in a deep breath, I go on. “While I was driving that car, I became me. And I was altered on something other than a ghost. I’d been drinking. The ghost challenged me to come out of my shell, and I did. But then I did something stupid. I got behind the wheel of that car. And…” Tears roll down my cheeks. The winding road flashes across my vision. The sound of Kai’s body hitting my windshield. The squeal of my tires as I race away from the scene.
“And the ghost cautioned me to slow down, but I didn’t listen. I sped up. I remember laughing. I’d never felt so free.”
The longer I talk, the more strained Charming’s expression becomes.
“And then I heard him. The sound of my car hitting him. He flew so high… so impossibly high. And then the ghost took back over, and he got out of there. It wasn’t until the next day that I realized I’d been badly injured. Apparently when a ghost is inside you, injuries don’t register. I’d been walking around with torn tendons and a broken arm. But worse than that was the memory. The memory of me hitting Kai. Then getting away with it… I’ve been punishing myself for so long.” I plead to him with my eyes. “I’ve never told anyone that before. I couldn’t.” I shake my head, disgust with myself mounting from my gut.
“I go to see him every day in the hospital.” I twirl my fingers together. “I mean, I don’t see him. I’ve never worked up the courage to go in and look at what I did.”
Charming is silent for several agonizing moments. Tears sting my eyes.
He rakes his hands through his hair then stares at me in disbelief. “You just left him there?”
The tears flow freely now. I nod. “Yes.”
He jumps to his feet faster than I would have thought possible.
“How could you do that?” he screams down at me. “How could you just…” He starts to pace in front of me then turns and glares down at me. “That’s not you, Kinsley.”
I sniffle and swipe at my cheeks. “It is.”
“No!” His cheeks turn a bruised purple color. “No, I refuse to believe that.”
I use the loveseat to help lift myself up. “Like it or not, it’s true. And it’s the worst thing I’ve done.”
He backs away, something close to disgust written on his face.
“I need some air.” He turns on his heels and rushes out the door like he’s on fire.
I bury my face in my hands and cry. My body starts to shake, and it feels like someone is taking a hammer to the inside of my skull. He hates me.
He has every right to. I need my drugs more than ever. I even consider phoning Creeper, then I remember my phone is still with Mac at the Harker estate.
Instead, I dart into the kitchen, take a glass from the cabinet, and fill it with water from the faucet. Before I know it, I’ve sucked down three glasses. It just makes me feel cold. Colder than I’ve felt in a long time.
I place the glass in the sink and lean against the counter. Before I can dwell too much on Charming’s reaction, a bright blue orb appears above my head. I stare up at it, dread sinking into my gut.
I know what that is. A locator spell. I reach over and grab a knife from the holder beside the sink.
“Trouble in paradise?” a familiar, husky voice says from behind me.
I spin around, raising the knife. Victoria Harker stands there in her mother’s pointed hat, a mad little smile on her lips.
“What are you doing here?” I ask because it’s the only thing I can think of to say. I know perfectly well why she’s here.
“Oh, I was just in the area…” She grins and nods at the knife. “What do you plan on doing with that?”
I raise it above my head. “If you don’t get the hell out of here, you’re going to find out.”
She laughs, pulling a deep red wand with a silver handle from her leather jacket. “I’m shaking in my witch boots.”
I squint. “Look,” I say, eyeing the wand. “It wasn’t me who put your mother in that tree. It was Reyna. You know that.”
She shrugs. “I do know that. Don’t much care. The bitch used your body to do it. And I know how long full ghost possession can take. It makes me think you gave her permission. Now why would you go and do a thing like that?”
I hadn’t noticed it before, but she looks a lot like her mom. It’s mostly in the eyes, the cruel glint in them. Pressing my lips together, I don’t answer her question. I don’t really think she’d like what I have to say. Plus, I get the feeling she’d want to hurt me even if I had nothing to do with it.
She disliked me as soon as she looked at me.
“I’m not afraid of you.” My voice comes out a lot less confident that I’d like it to be.
Victoria wrinkles her nose and smirks. “You see, for some reason…I don’t believe you.” She points her wand at me. A tiny spark shoots out the end and hits me in the center of my forehead.
It’s just a tap, like someone flicking me there. Only seconds later, my hand, the one holding the knife, goes numb. I stare as it lowers itself, pointing its sharp blade toward my eye.
My gaze darts to Victoria then back to the knife’s blade. I almost ask her to stop, but I’m not going to let her see me beg. She’d enjoy it too much.
The sharp edge of the knife gets closer and closer to my eyeball. I try to stop it, but I still can’t feel my arm. It’s like a foreign appendage as opposed to something that’s been attached to me my entire life. I try to close my eyes and find I’ve lost the use of those, as well.
“I thought…” I grunt, sweat breaking out across my forehead. “That you only had the divination gift.”
She laughs. “It’s not me. It’s the wand. When you’re a witch with money, you can make up for what the gods don’t give you.”
“Good to know,” I say with a huff.
Then sensation comes back into my arm in the form of pins and needles. The knife drops out of my hand, and Victoria and I both glance down at it. When I look back up, her face is pinched as if in pain. I try not to smile. She was straining. The magic took a toll.
I bend down and reach for the knife. It goes flying across the kitchen floor just out of my reach. When I scramble after it, I’m flipped over onto my back. Victoria is standing over me with the same pained expression, pointing that damn wand right into my face.
Gritting my teeth, I slap her wand hand hard. She lets out a grunt, and she drops the wand. I reach for it and smack it across her face.
“You bitch!” she screams, going all crazy in the eyes.
I try to roll out of the way, but she grabs my hair and turns me back over. Then she’s on top of me, trying to get her hands around my thr
oat. I start swatting at her hands until her skin turns beet red. She rears back and punches me in the nose.
“Ah!” My hand flies to my face, and my fingers come away stained with blood.
I grit my teeth. I’m really getting tired of witches.
Gathering all my strength, I shove her off of me. She goes flying into the stove with a loud thud.
She lands inches from the knife. My eyes widen, and I make a dive for the knife. She gets there first. She holds it over her head with a smile. Darting my gaze to the left, I grab her wand and hold it out in front of me.
Not a smart move, seeing as how I can’t work a magic wand, but it’s the only one I got.
She laughs. If I were on the reverse side of this situation, I’d probably do the same.
Twirling the knife in her hands like she’s handled a few in her day, she asks, “What are you going to do with that?”
Stab you in the eye if need be.
I just smile and stand up. Her face darkens, and she stalks toward me. I throw out my fist and connect with her jaw. She stumbles back into the stove. I launch on her, trying to jiggle the knife loose. She manages to tighten her hold on it and plunges it forward.
My eyes bulge. I gasp, staggering back. White hot pain spreads through my body. I fall to my knees and look down. The knife is embedded in my abdomen, almost to the handle. A dark red stain flowers out from it.
Victoria laughs. Her footsteps trail toward me. I peer up at her and shake my head, tears budding in my eyes.
“Why?” I ask in a rough voice.
She kicks me in the shoulder, and I crash down on my back. The knife shifts, tearing another bout of pain through me. My vision starts to blacken at the edges. I blink several times, trying to stay awake.
Victoria is standing above me, leering. “Because, you don’t mess with the Harker family.” She reaches down and pries the wand from my hand. She frowns. Her face blurs in my vision with each passing second. “Maybe this was actually a bad move. I’d rather you die over years of a broken heart than in twenty minutes on your kitchen floor.” She shrugs. “Guess I’ll have to settle.”
She waves her hand in the air. Green smoke billows around her, and when it clears, she is gone. The black smudge at the edges of my vision leak to the forefront.
Then there isn’t even pain.
Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection Page 188