Hearth, Home, and Havoc

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Hearth, Home, and Havoc Page 4

by RJ Blain


  “They kicked us out, Mom,” Hestia whined.

  What had my child done to get kicked out of a hospital? I sighed and made a guess. “Did you ask for an update every five minutes? They don’t tend to like that.”

  “I figured that out when they told me to leave. But I waited ten, usually.”

  For Hestia, ten minutes counted as a major accomplishment. I expected she’d develop patience as she grew into her profile. Well, I hoped she would, else she was in for an eternity of frustration. If she ever had children, I bet she’d win Helicopter Parent of the Year award without having to worry about the competition. “Patience is a virtue for a reason, squirt. Trust me on this one. You’re happier having avoided the testing. I’m exhausted, so my next plan is to go to the nearest hotel and sleep for a week.”

  My daughter’s eyes widened. “You’re not going home?”

  “Not until I get some sleep. I’ll get a rental—”

  My daughter’s companion cleared his throat. “Hestia told me you’d never run off without telling her first…”

  I heard the question in his voice, and I sighed. “I wouldn’t. Sure, I’m not a great mom, but I do try to take care of the basics. Anyway, the brat moved out a few months ago.”

  He grinned. “Viktor Jenkins, with a k because my mother’s almost as much of an ass as my father.” Pulling out his wallet, he showed me an identification card claiming he worked for the CDC. “Your daughter contacted the CDC, as she was worried about several sudden, unexplainable changes in your behavior. She wanted someone to check in with you.”

  “You’re not her boyfriend?” I blurted.

  “Mom!” my daughter squealed. “Damn it, I told you I was looking for a man for you. No, Mr. Jenkins is not my boyfriend. Have you forgotten I’m only two? Next you’ll be asking me about grandkids. Spare me, please!”

  Busted. To cover my mistake, I asked, “Were you following me?” To maintain the ruse I was upset with her, I crossed my arms and gave her a hefty dose of the eye.

  “Maybe a little. I’m sorry!”

  I turned my glare to Viktor. “And you helped her?”

  “Technically, I was the one doing the following. She tagged along. It’s a standard procedure for evaluating certain situations. We’ve learned to trust the insights of fledgling divines when it comes to their mortal parents. While your daughter’s portfolio is among the more pacifistic in nature, it’s unwise to stir the ire of the deity overseeing general household prosperity.”

  After the tests, the warnings I’d undergo potentially major alterations in my personality, and the knowledge I’d been spied on by my child, I needed a vacation. “I need sleep before I can deal with this.”

  “The CDC believes it’d be wise if you have an escort for the interim. I’ve been volunteered.” Viktor offered an apologetic smile. “There’s a good hotel a few miles from here, and I’ve already reserved a room.”

  My daughter clapped her hands. “On that note, I’m going home. I’ll make sure Mr. Rogers knows what’s going on, Mom. I’ve already vetted Mr. Jenkins. He doesn’t snore, he’s single, and his only flaw is his enjoyment of sleeping in the nude.”

  Before I could splutter a word, my daughter vanished.

  “That blasted girl!” I pinched the bridge of my nose, closed my eyes, and wished I could disappear, too. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not easy raising a young goddess, although I find it rather disturbing I’ve been vetted down to how I sleep.”

  “I suffer from unreasonable urges to smother anyone who snores.”

  He laughed. “Well, that much is true. I don’t snore.”

  He made me wonder about the rest of my daughter’s claims. “And your tendency to sleep in the nude?”

  Viktor’s cheeks darkened in a blush. “I plead the Fifth.”

  Interesting.

  Chapter Five

  Viktor drove a car masquerading as a stunted SUV, and I arched a brow at the candy apple red paint job. “I question the sanity of the person who thought that thing was a good idea.”

  Could Viktor even fit inside? Either his clothes cleverly disguised a willowy man, or he’d be packed into the tiny vehicle worse than a sardine. Having gotten a glimpse of his arms, I doubted any part of him classified as willowy.

  With a soft chuckle, he unlocked the vehicle and slid behind the wheel.

  Yep, there wasn’t anything willowy about Viktor Jenkins. He barely fit, and when his muscles flexed, they were more defined than I anticipated. At rest, he only looked soft.

  It was so wrong of me to hope he slept in the nude so I could begin a new career as a voyeur. A few looks couldn’t hurt, could it? I feigned disgust at the car to cover my inappropriate admiration of its driver. “That can’t be comfortable.”

  I slid in, and it was a tight squeeze for me, too.

  “Ah, to have earned the scorn of a woman over my car.”

  “If you really want to torture yourself cramming behind the wheel, I can make a few recommendations. I can’t give you a pass on this one, Viktor. It can’t even function as a family car. Please tell me it’s a rental, and then tell me the name of the company, because I need to yell at them for cruel and unusual punishment.”

  “Are you always so sassy?”

  His question slammed the brakes on my rant, and my face flushed. I swallowed. “No, I’m not.”

  Viktor sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. The talent used on you is similar to what a vampire uses to enthrall someone. Your situation is unique, as far as I know. I’ve never seen it before, and neither have my contacts within the CDC. It’s a bit like a magnet. When a beguilement works as intended, the victim sticks to the controller. Your situation is the exact opposite. While there was definitely a beguilement in place, it’s like you reversed the beguilement’s polarity. Instead of becoming a puppet eager to please, he repelled you. The magic remained intact, but he got the opposite result of what he wanted. You ran from him rather than to him.”

  “How is it no one noticed this until now?”

  Viktor reached down and adjusted the seat, buying himself an extra inch of space, not that it helped in the tiny vehicle. “I have a few theories, but I suspect the original beguilement was layered over a long period of time and designed to be difficult to spot. The new one was a sloppy job set in a hurry, so it was really obvious to anyone with a talent capable of detecting auras, like mine. I’ve been assigned to your case as I have a similar talent, although my abilities require consent of all parties involved. However, once consent is given, mine are permanent and difficult to remove.”

  “That’s a scary talent,” I confessed.

  “I’m a binding arbitrator. My talent is usually used for therapy and rehabilitation, although I can witness—and implement—a binding oath. I’m often the first person the CDC requests if there’s a beguilement needing to be broken. They only call in vampires on the dangerous jobs, as they’re the true masters of breaking such talents. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “You’re the man with the worn-out shoes.”

  He laughed. “Of all the things to notice, you noticed my shoes? Yes, those worn-out shoes were mine. I followed you in the airport while your daughter notified security and had them call for backup. She’s incredible. If it wasn’t for her file with the CDC, I’d never believe she’s only two. She’s so advanced, even compared to fledgling divines. There aren’t a lot of them, but our records show the others didn’t fully grow into their portfolios until their teens, although the process begins around age four or five. While they developed faster than human children, none have grown at Hestia’s rate.”

  “Hestia is incredible,” I conceded. Then, to turn the conversation away from my daughter, I added, “To be fair, I noticed your shoes first, then I noticed your pants. Everything else was a blur.”

  “The type of magic he used on you is illegal. While there are legal applications for beguilements, especially in medical rehabilitation, it’s under very strict cond
itions and usually requires a court order—or an emergency. My talent typically falls under medical rehabilitation, although I am called in to help with law enforcement.” Viktor started the car, and his back popped when he twisted around to check his blind spots. Muttering curses under his breath, he pulled out of the spot. “It’s a rental. I drive a big manly truck entirely inappropriate for the city because I like pissing off impatient drivers in tiny cars. They’re too frightened of my big, manly truck to do anything about it. I also crush cans to show off when I’m not posing like the bodybuilder I am.”

  His claims were so absurd I laughed until I cried. “You don’t!”

  “Busted. In reality, I have an old SUV that gets me where I need to go, but it guzzles so much gas I catch a bus whenever possible. Disappointed yet? You should be.”

  Wiping my eyes, I shook my head. “Only reason I have a nice car is because I hated my ex so much I wanted revenge for screwing me over, and drowning him in my sink isn’t legal.”

  “It’s unfortunately not. What I’m curious to know is if you have a talent, or if you’re just so stubborn and headstrong not even magic can sway you.”

  I scowled and turned my head to stare out the window. “If that were true, he wouldn’t have been able to control me.”

  Viktor remained silent for several minutes while escaping the hospital and its maze of parking lots. “No, I disagree. He wasn’t able to charm you into doing what he wanted. He had to blank slate you, repressing everything you are to get you to do what he wanted, and that’s pretty incredible. It doesn’t really matter if it’s a talent or your indomitable will. It’s something you should be proud of. Maybe one in a hundred can even attempt to shrug off that sort of magic. I’d put the odds at closer to one in a thousand. You’ve been fighting him for years.”

  It didn’t feel like something I could be proud of, but I didn’t argue with him.

  As though reading my mind, Viktor sighed. “I know this is difficult for you, but hopefully this will help. Suppressors make your strengths weaker and your weaknesses stronger. They’re designed to make you pliable, not change who you are. Underneath the magic, you’re still you, and I can, with your consent, help you see that for yourself if you’ll allow me.”

  Viktor gave me too much to think about, and uncertain if I even had any other options, I nodded.

  Time would tell.

  I went from wide awake to sound asleep before we reached the hotel. Playing a damsel in distress came with a few perks, which included breakfast in bed and my ideal man brushing out my hair while I tried to remember how I’d gotten into the room. I decided there were three options I liked, and one I didn’t. I disliked option four, as option four involved walking to the room under my own steam.

  If I was going to end up a damsel, I wanted the whole package, including being carried like a princess, although I had a rather unhealthy interest in him tossing me over his shoulder and showing off his muscles. Along with the rest of my personality, I suspected Adken had suppressed my inner slut, because I wanted to rip Viktor out of his clothes in a bad way.

  The last time I’d taken the dive, I couldn’t remember the man who’d given me Hestia. If I ever learned who he was, I’d have to thank him. In my next breath, I’d decline any child support, as I wasn’t going to trap a man into fatherhood—fiscal or otherwise—unless he wanted to be involved with our pain-in-the-ass daughter’s life.

  And if he did show up and wanted in her life, well, I’d figure something out. There wasn’t anything wrong with pursuing a handsome man, although I wondered if he was actually handsome, or if the beer, the vodka, and whatever the hell I’d been drinking had skewed the picture.

  No matter what the case, I wasn’t married, not anymore.

  Viktor chuckled, which didn’t help with my state of mind at all. “That’s quite the expression on your face. I can’t tell if you want to kill me or if I’m on the menu. If you’re still hungry, I can order something.”

  I brushed off my inability to remember dinner or breakfast as the consequences of a severe case of exhaustion. “Theoretical question. Let’s say I decided to go out and seduce someone.”

  Viktor’s eyes widened, and he cleared his throat, probably so he wouldn’t start laughing.

  While I could have phrased the opening of my question better, I blamed my repressed inner slut for having the daring to ask at all. I plowed on, asking, “If Hestia’s father showed up, would I have to seduce both men? Do I get to pick the man I like the most? How does this work? This single mom hasn’t been on a date in years. Is there a date limit before I can invite him to come home with me? Huh. Does this mean I’m a slut?”

  “You’re not a slut. It’s a common symptom of suppression. If you want, I can use my talent to help mitigate the symptoms. Essentially, the suppressors make a lot of alterations to the victim, including hormone levels. Everything that’s been suppressed tends to surge to the surface, so if there was a component regarding sexuality, well, the victim ends up giving even a sex demon a run for his money. Lowered hormone levels can cause a lot of problems, but generally, the magic involved keeps the body functioning as necessary. It’s really rare someone has been suppressed for as long as you’ve been, which is why I’m here. I can, with my talent, help you control the biological aspects.” Viktor’s expression turned pained. “The alternative is to work it out of your system naturally.”

  My eyes widened. “The CDC tossed you in here with me knowing I might turn into a slut?”

  He slapped his forehead. “You’re not a slut. No, they put me in here with you knowing you might challenge an incubus. Yes, if you ultimately need—or want—an incubus to help through the adaptation period, one is a phone call away. I made the suggestion you should have your pick of how to handle this situation, as you’ve been exploited enough as it is.”

  Handsome man, check. Handsome man giving me full control of the situation, check. Handsome man already in the same hotel room with me, check. Handsome man capable of brushing my hair out without complaint, check. Handsome man talking about sex when I wanted to rip him out of his shirt already, check.

  Best of all, he somehow managed to deliver his speech with a neutral expression and tone.

  “That’s kinda insane,” I informed him.

  “It’s magic. What comes around goes around, and everything he suppressed is surging to the surface. Typically, the CDC hires a demon to sort out the biological aspects. They can meddle with a human’s hormone levels rather easily. In your case, I recommended you decide for yourself. If you want an incubus, I’ll call for one. If you want two incubi, I’m sure an arrangement can be made. If you want an entire pack of them fulfilling your every desire, I can make an inquiry.”

  “And if I wanted to rip you out of your shirt? Would you be okay with that?”

  Viktor’s chuckle elevated him to the top of my to-do list. “I never said I was a good man.” His smirk promised trouble; I’d seen his expression on the faces of men on the prowl in plenty of bars. Bars got me in trouble.

  Bars had alcohol. Alcohol led to black outs. Black outs led to sex with men I couldn’t remember.

  I really needed to make sure Hestia never realized she was the product of an alcoholic binge and a night I wanted to remember but couldn’t.

  No, I wouldn’t worry about Hestia for a night or two. She could take care of herself, and she’d abandoned ship the instant she’d ensured I was going home with a man she liked.

  The sneaky little brat.

  “Is the CDC aware of this, Mr. Jenkins?” I arched a brow at him.

  “They’re aware I can refuse any unwanted advances. They’re also aware I possess twisted and questionable yet barely acceptable morals, which are easily bent when an attractive woman tells me she wants to rip me out of my shirt. I only engage with one woman at a time, and to answer your other question, the socially accepted practice is to remain with your current man unless a sex demon is involved.”

  “That seems so entirely ra
ndom. Add in a sex demon, and anything goes.”

  “Well, once a sex demon gets involved, common sense and morality tend to fly right out the window. It’s the whole ‘don’t throw stones in a glass house’ thing. It’s hard to stay on a high horse when there are plenty of sex demons willing to start a public party. Incubi and succubi aren’t the only ones who can rev a human’s engine, either. Never been with one?”

  I shook my head. Well, I supposed it was possible I’d gotten involved with one during a black out, but I meant to stay as far from bars as possible in the future.

  Alcohol did nothing but get me in trouble.

  “Well, the choice is yours. However you want to handle the next few days, it’s up to you to decide.”

  One concern rose over all the rest. “This never gets back to Hestia. Understood?”

  While weak and strained, he laughed. “I’m fairly confident she understands basic biology, but I won’t shatter her belief her mother is a pure maiden.”

  I had a hard time imagining myself as a pure anything, let alone a maiden. Two children evicted me from the pure maiden pool. “A few weeks ago, she viewed my lingerie drawer as the prime evil. Then she realized I was using it to hide things from her.”

  Viktor bit his lip, but a snorted laugh escaped. “She looks all grown up, but then you tell me something like that. Then I start to think she shouldn’t be allowed out in public unsupervised.”

  “If she wasn’t so damned good at teleporting, I’d chain her in my apartment for the next sixteen years.”

  “You could try a leash. Restraints can block inexperienced teleporters, although it won’t stop a divine for long.”

  I laughed at the thought of leashing my daughter. “She’d kill me.”

  “Honestly, I’d be more concerned about your ex-husband. She’ll kill him if a chance presents itself. Divine children are often protective of their mortal parents.”

  The possibility worried me, but I hid my discomfort with a snort. “There’s a line. I’m at the front of it.”

 

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