Visions of Vengeance: A Paranormal Romance (The Gypsy's Curse Book 2)

by Meg Anne

  Lizzie was fast asleep, her head in Matthews’ lap. His partner’s head had fallen back on the couch and he snored softly.

  Lucas shook his head. Looked like he was on his own.

  Grabbing a blanket, he pulled it up over his sister and then set off toward the back of the house.

  On his way down the hall to the library, he paused in front of Skye’s door. She’d had a nightmare in the cab and he wondered whether she slept soundly now. Lucas couldn’t even imagine the emotional weight she carried due to her visions. Having to witness death and being helpless to prevent it… that had to take a toll. She was a tough woman, that’s for damn sure.

  He stared at the door for a moment longer. Would it be creepy if I check in on her while she’s sleeping? Surely not, since the Druid had cornered her in a dream… given their situation, it would be rude of him not to check on her.

  Mind made up, Lucas turned the handle and pushed the door open. It creaked, and he paused, hoping the noise hadn’t woke her. When he didn’t hear any stirring, Lucas finished opening the door and stepped inside.

  She slept soundly in the bed closest to the window and the soft moonlight shone through the sheer drapes, illuminating her with its gentle glow. Lucas moved closer, her face was tight with worry, a line creasing between her brows.

  He brushed a strand of hair off her cheek, and she snuggled into his palm.

  ‘You’re going to die.’

  Her words had haunted him from the moment she’d come out of the vision. He only had to close his eyes to recall with perfect clarity the pain and horror in her eyes as she described how it would happen. How the hell am I supposed to keep them all alive?

  According to Skye, they were all going to die and then the Druid was going to come after her. Lucas squeezed the bridge of his nose, trying to relieve some of the growing tension. He had days to learn what that bastard had spent his life practicing.

  No pressure there.

  Lucas pressed a kiss to her forehead before leaving the room. As he made his way down the hall, he noticed that an impressive amount of dust had collected on the tops of the picture frames, some of which were empty. There were also discolored spots where pictures had hung for years but were gone now. Strange.

  Lucas stopped in front of a picture of his grandmother holding his father when he’d only been a few years old. The two of them looked so happy, their smiles huge as they beamed up into the camera. He could just make out the words Happy Birthday Gavin in the background. Given the smudges of frosting that covered the both of them, Lucas guessed it had been taken right after a birthday cake and ice cream mishap.

  A sad smile lifted his lips. He’d had so few years with his parents. Lucas wondered what it would have been like to know Gavin and Molly MacConnell as an adult. Would they be proud? Would his dad have filled him in on his heritage? Had he even known about it? Had he been a Druid too?

  Lucas sighed and forced himself to move away from the picture. He had so many damn questions and there was no one he could ask. It wasn’t until that moment that it hit Lucas how badly he’d been hoping Pop would have been able to give him some answers.

  Where the hell is he?

  Lucas made his way to the end of the hall and tried the handle of the door that went to Pop’s library. The door was locked, so he ran his hand along the doorjamb, searching for a hidden key. Why Pop would lock the door in the first place, Lucas wasn’t sure, but who was he to decide whether or not the books within were worth protecting?

  Lucas sighed and pulled his hand down when he didn’t find anything. All he had to show for the impromptu search was a hand smeared with black grime. Grimacing, he wiped his dirty fingertips on his pant leg. Just how long has Pop been gone? Determined to get inside, Lucas headed back toward his room to grab his lock pick set. As he passed Skye’s room again, the door opened.

  She jumped back, her hand pressed against her chest.

  Lucas laughed. “Sleepy?”

  “Why do you always insist on scaring the shit out of me?” Her voice was rough with sleep, which only made it sexier.

  Lucas grinned, appreciating her rumpled state: mussed up hair and skin still flushed from her nap. She looked absolutely delicious. “Not my fault you’re easily frightened,” he teased.

  She glared at him. “Can you blame me? It’s not my fault you are constantly sneaking up on me.”

  “Hey, I was just walking down the—” Lucas cut himself off as he noticed her red-rimmed eyes and wet eyelashes. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, just—”

  “Another nightmare?”

  She nodded, and Lucas reached for her, pulling her body flush against his and resting his chin on the top of her head while he held her. They stood for a moment as the quiet of the house settled around them. Lucas felt a pang when she pulled away. Having her in his arms just felt so right.

  She was the first to break the silence. “What are you doing up?”

  “Lizzie and Matthews passed out on the couch, so I was heading to my Pop’s office to see what books he has on Druids, if any.”

  “I can come with you,” she offered.

  He loved the idea of spending time with her, but if the purple smudges under her eyes were any indication, she was still totally beat. “If you’re tired, maybe you should try to get some more sleep.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. If anything, they looked haunted.

  “Are you sure?”

  Skye nodded and shut the bedroom door behind her. “Besides, they say the best way to beat jet lag is to acclimate to the new time zone as quickly as possible. So, not napping is actually better.”

  “Fair enough.” Lucas threaded his fingers through hers and pulled her toward his room. “I just need to grab my lock pick set first.”

  She halted. “Who the hell travels with their lock pick set?”

  “I do?” Lucas tried not to squirm as she continued to stare at him. Feeling the need to defend himself, he added, “This exact scenario proves why it’s a smart idea.”

  Skye shook her head, her lips pursed as if she was trying to contain her laughter. “So I’m guessing the office is locked. Is that normal?”

  He shrugged. “Hard to say. I guess he wanted his books and whatever else he keeps in there protected while he traveled.”

  “That doesn’t seem strange to you?”

  “Sure, but I’ve never been a big reader. And for all I know, there could be some important legal documents or something he doesn’t want tampered with.”

  “Yeah, true,” Skye murmured.

  Lucas smiled down at her and opened the door to his room. His suitcase hadn’t been unpacked and was just sitting on the bed. He’d never been one to waste time unpacking at a hotel, or anywhere else for that matter. If it was just going to get shoved back in the suitcase within a few days anyway, what was the point? It drove his sister crazy, since she had the urge to get settled no matter how long they were going to be somewhere. Even if it was just for one night, Lizzie had to be organized and unpacked.

  The black leather pouch was in the front zipper of his suitcase; as a rule, he never traveled without it. Palming the set, he turned to see Skye watching him.

  Her amber eyes were glued to him, and she didn’t look away even when he caught her staring. “I… care about you,” she said, her voice low and serious.

  As much as he appreciated hearing the words, the heaviness with which she said them set him on edge. Where was she going with this? He scanned her face for some clue as to what prompted the confession. Finding none, he replied hesitantly, “I care about you, too.”

  Skye nodded. “Glad we’re on the same page.” Without any further explanation, she turned and left the room. Lucas stared after her. What the hell was that?

  Shaking his head, Lucas walked into the hall where Skye waited for him. They made their way down to the locked room in silence. Once they’d reached the large wooden door, Lucas knelt and pulled the tools from
his kit.

  He went to work trying to unlock the door, but there was no familiar click, no tumblers falling into place. He frowned, dumbfounded. “That should have worked.”

  “Maybe you’ve lost your touch.”

  Lucas looked up at her with a scowl. “I have not lost my touch.” He stood and pressed his hand to the door.

  A fission of awareness ran up his arm and down his back at the contact while the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. A bone-deep certainty filled him, not unlike the knowing he’d often experienced at a crime scene. Whatever was on the other side of the door was waiting for him to find it. He needed to get in there.

  “Maybe your grandfather magically locked it,” Skye murmured, staring at the closed door thoughtfully.

  “That would mean Pop knew about magic.”

  “A Druid’s power runs in his bloodline, Lucas. It wouldn’t be a huge leap to assume your grandfather had some magic of his own.”

  “I still don’t understand that. How is it possible that I have power, when I know for a fact my father didn’t?”

  Skye tilted her head. “Are you sure about that?”

  “I think I would have noticed if he started doing weird woo-woo shit.”

  She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. “Not if he didn’t want you to.”

  Lucas frowned, not appreciating the implication.

  “In any event, power can skip generations. That’s what happened in my case. I inherited Gran’s visions, but my mother never did.”

  He sighed and ran his hands over his face. “Regardless of who may or may not have had power, we need to get into that room.”

  Skye glanced at the door, her eyes moving over the wood like she was searching for something only she could see. “Not gonna happen. At least not this morning, I’m afraid.”

  “Damn it,” he growled, his hands moving up into his hair and tugging.

  Her eyes softened as she looked back up at him. “You want to try to get some sleep?”

  Lucas lowered his hands and raised a brow. “What about acclimating?”

  Skye shrugged. “We’re both beat, and we’re going to be useless until we get some actual rest. So, what do you say, Detective? Sleep now, magic later?”

  Lucas hesitated and then nodded. If the door was magically locked, he’d need to find a way to open it using his own power, and that was something he had no energy to investigate right now.

  Skye held out a hand. Lucas slid his hand over hers and, without a word, they made their way through the house and back toward their rooms.

  Stopping just outside his door, Lucas asked, “Want to join me?” He half expected her to decline, but to Lucas’ surprise, she nodded.

  “These days it seems the only way for me to get sleep is when we’re together. But just this once, and no funny business.” She glared at him with narrowed eyes, a small smile playing about her lips.

  Lucas laughed. “You got it,” he promised. Still holding her hand, he pulled her into the room and shut the door gently behind them.

  Chapter 3

  Skye

  “Yahtzee!” Lizzie jumped up and did a little dance. “That, boys”—she tossed her scorecard down—“is how it’s done.”

  Skye giggled wildly.

  “Yeah, whatever, cheater,” Lucas responded with a grin.

  “You always accuse me of cheating when I win.” Lizzie took a sip of her Scotch and aimed an amused glare at her brother.

  “Because you usually do.”

  Skye watched the exchange with fascination. As an only child, she’d always wondered what it was like to have a sibling, someone who was going through roughly the same family things as you were. It would have been nice to have someone around who understood what she went through with her visions. She shook her head. None of that. Tonight was a good night; she refused to spoil it with thoughts of death.

  “So, who’s up for another round?” Skye asked.

  “Pshht, why? So Lizzie can cheat again?” Lucas asked sarcastically.

  Lizzie balled up a fist and tapped him on the arm.

  “Let’s dig out that game of Twister I saw in there,” James suggested with a sidelong glance at Lizzie.

  Lizzie blushed brightly.

  I knew there was something going on! Skye grinned.

  “What are you all smiley about?” Lucas asked. “Interested in a game of Twister?”

  Skye narrowed her eyes. “Hardly.” At least not that type of Twister.

  “Need another drink?” Lucas gestured to the nearly empty glass in her hand.

  “That’d be great, thanks.” She followed him into the kitchen, leaving James and Lizzie arguing about what game to play next.

  “How are you doing?” He turned to face her and leaned back against the counter.

  Skye shrugged. “Currently I’m feeling fantastic.” She forced a smile, but her sexy detective saw right through it.

  “I’m serious, Skye. I know something’s bugging you.”

  Skye threw her hands up. “Of course something’s bugging me. We’re here in this beautiful country and can’t even enjoy it, because we’re hiding out from a crazed Druid so you can learn how to access your own power. If that wasn’t more than enough to send even the sanest of women into an extreme funk, on top of everything, I am desperately attracted to you but can’t do anything about it because we’re all going to die.”

  Lucas raised an eyebrow and grinned, his dimples flashing. “Desperately, huh?”

  “Of course that’s what you’re taking away from this conversation.” Skye sighed and rolled her eyes.

  Lucas stepped forward and ran his hands up and down her arms. “No one is going to die, Skye. Not until we’ve all led long and full lives. We’re going to nail this guy.”

  Amused by his choice of words because these days it seemed all she could think about was nailing him, she let out a little laugh and lifted her face to look at his. “I mean it, Lucas. I’m scared.”

  “I know. But that’s tomorrow’s problem. Tonight we have good scotch and Twister.” He winked and moved away to top off both their glasses.

  Glass in hand, Skye followed him back into the room and settled into her seat.

  “So, it turns out the Twister mat is nowhere to be found,” Lizzie announced, holding up two sides of the empty cardboard box.

  “Oh, bummer,” Skye said with an exaggerated frown.

  Lucas laughed.

  “We did find a deck of cards, though.” James shook the pack of cards in his hand. “You guys down for some poker?”

  “How about a game of Bullshit?” Skye asked with a sly smile.

  “Is that even a real game?” Lizzie asked, sitting back down.

  “Oh, definitely. It’s one of my favorites. We can even turn it into a little drinking game to keep things interesting.”

  Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Alright, Giovanni, you’ve got our attention. How do you play?”

  “It’s really easy. Here, we’ll play a couple rounds to get you started.” Skye shuffled and dealt out the entire deck.

  “You handle that deck like a pro,” James declared with an appreciative whistle.

  “Skye moonlights as a fortune teller.” Lucas took another sip to hide his laugh as Skye glared at him.

  “Ohhh, Skye. You have to do it for me some time,” Lizzie insisted.

  Skye shook her head. “Don’t you think that’s tempting fate given our current situation?”

  “Come on, it will be fun! We’ll get shitfaced and you can do it for all of us.”

  Skye sighed. “Fine, but another night. Tonight we’re getting shitfaced and playing some cards.”

  “Here here!” James raised his glass.

  “Rules are simple, folks. Whoever has the two of spades starts. You play all the twos you have face down.”

  “Alright that’s me,” Lucas said, laying down two cards.

  “That means I’m next,” Skye said. “I have one three. Now it’s to you, Lizzie.”
<
br />   “I’m fours?” she asked, looking at her cards.

  “Yup.”

  “Three fours,” she said, laying them on top of the others.

  “Bullshit!” Skye shouted, making Lizzie jump. “Prove it.”

  Lizzie turned over the top three cards, all of them fours.

  “Fuck,” Skye muttered, picking up her glass. “And this is when we drink.”

  “So you call bullshit when you think someone is bluffing?” Lucas asked.

  “Exactly. And eventually we’ll all have to bluff, ‘cause we keep going until someone is out of cards. If you call bullshit and they aren’t bluffing, the discard pile goes into your hand and you take a drink. If you call it and they are, they get the pile and they take a drink. Got it?”

  “Knowing when people are lying is sort of my trade, Giovanni. You sure you want to do this?” Lucas asked. His eyes sparkled with mischief and her stomach somersaulted.

  “Abso-fuckin-lutely.”

  “Let’s go. Deal while I bring the bottle from the kitchen. Something tells me we’re gonna need it.”

  He was right. The hours passed in a blur as they laughed and drank themselves stupid.

  “Bullshit!” James shouted, throwing his head back and laughing.

  “James, you’re the one that put down the kings.” Skye snorted with laughter. “You can’t call bullshit on yourself.”

  “No, no, its’k,” Lizzie slurred. “Let ‘im call bullshit on ‘imself. I’m trying to get ‘im drunk ya see.” She held up a finger to her lips. “Shh, don’t tell Lucas. It’sa secret.”

  Skye’s shoulders shook with laughter. They were all still sitting at the table, which meant everyone heard the confession. “Sweetheart, I think the gig’s up.”

  Lizzie closed one eye as if it was helping her focus. “How you figure?”

  “For one thing, I’m right fuckin’ here,” Lucas said, shaking his head. “Second, the both of you are too drunk to manage anything more than passing out.”

  Lizzie waved a hand in the air. “You just say that because”—she hiccupped—“you lack imagination.”