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

by Meg Anne

Skye met Lucas’ gaze, her brows lifted in amusement. Somehow Skye didn’t think Lucas lacked imagination at all. He held her gaze, unwavering, banked heat in his eyes. Her stomach tightened.

  “Alright, folks,” Skye said, fanning herself. “I think that’s it for the night. The scotch is gone and it’s already after midnight. We should get some sleep.”

  “Party pooper,” Lizzie said, sticking out her tongue.

  “Wanna put me to bed?” James asked her with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.

  Lucas groaned. “Do you have to do that shit in front of me? She’s my little sister, man.”

  “Deal with it!” Lizzie shouted, jumping to her feet and swaying slightly. “C’mon, James. I’ll make sure you’re as snug as a bug in a muffin.”

  They all laughed.

  “A muffin?” James asked in confusion.

  Skye wiped tears of laughter from her eyes.

  Lizzie nodded emphatically. “Warm and cozy, like a muffin.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they made their way toward the bedrooms. “Night, all.”

  “Night,” Skye called, starting to clean up the table.

  “Leave it. We can get it in the morning,” Lucas said.

  Skye shrugged. “I’m almost done.” She stood once the cards were put away and carried the empty glasses to the sink. Lucas followed closely behind her. His strides were slow and measured, almost like a prowl. Skye was starting to feel like she was the prey and Lucas was about to pounce.

  Her heart sped up at the thought of him pushing her against the counter and slamming his lips against hers. Ever since he’d kissed her into oblivion that night on his couch, she’d been craving a repeat.

  Knowing if she stayed a moment longer that’s exactly what would happen, Skye forced herself to turn away from him and make her way to the bedroom. Alone.

  “Night, Lucas.”

  “What? No kiss?” he taunted.

  Against her better judgement, Skye looked at him over her shoulder. His arms were crossed, giving her a glorious view of his flexing muscles. The scotch had relaxed him, giving free reign to those devilish dimples. His blue eyes shone with challenge as he waited for her reply.

  “I only kiss winners, Detective. And tonight, I kicked your ass, so… no. No kiss for you.”

  His lips tilted up in a smug grin. “Bullshit.”

  He’d called her bluff, but this time she had no cards to show him. Skye wasn’t sure what her cards would reveal anyway.

  “Goodnight, Lucas.”

  “Night, Skye,” he called after her.

  Chapter 4

  Lucas

  Lucas rolled over and checked his phone. He squinted at the bright light, and he cursed at the sharp pain behind his eyes.

  Fuck. He was hung over. When was the last time he’d been that drunk? Lucas was pretty sure it was the night he’d graduated the academy. He grimaced at the memory. Bad decisions had been made that night as well. Since then, his main focus had been work, and it was hard to be available if you were hammered every night.

  He sat, groaning when the room took a few seconds to catch up to his movement. Was hair of the dog still a thing? If so, he needed one. Or three.

  The scent of coffee filled his nose, and Lucas groaned again. It might not be booze, but the smell alone was a Band-Aid to his aching head.

  He pushed himself out of bed and slowly stumbled into the kitchen. A flash of light caught his eye. It took him longer than it should have to realize that the doors to the patio were open. After filling a cup with steaming hot relief, he stepped out into the chilly air.

  Skye stood facing the mountains, light from the sunrise forming a halo around her dark hair. She was wrapped in a quilt, and it struck him then just how much he looked forward to seeing her every day. When all this was over, where would that leave them?

  She turned and jumped slightly when she saw him standing behind her. “Shit, Lucas.”

  “Sorry.” His voice was gravelly, each word grating on his already throbbing head.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

  “Like I have a jackhammer in my skull. You?”

  “I feel great; I don’t typically get hangovers.”

  He stared at her. “Are you serious?”

  She nodded. “I never really have.”

  “Of course not,” he responded dryly.

  “Jealous?”

  “Why would I be jealous? You’re the one who doesn’t get to experience hangovers.”

  Skye laughed. “I can see how much I’m missing out on.”

  Lucas smiled and studied her. No matter how many times he heard her laugh or saw her smile, it never lessened the magnificence. How the hell was he supposed to continue ignoring how he felt?

  “Matthews and Lizzie up yet?” he asked.

  Skye shook her head, and Lucas tried to hide his irritation. He may not remember everything that happened last night, but he did remember the bit about his baby sister tucking his partner into bed.

  They were going to have a chat when she woke up.

  “You alright?”

  “Yeah,” he assured her. “I mean, it’s weird, but whatever. Not my life, I suppose.”

  She narrowed those beautiful amber eyes. “That’s very mature of you.”

  He shrugged and took another sip. “What can I say? I’m a mature guy.”

  Skye lowered herself onto the old porch swing Pop had made as a wedding gift for Nan. Lucas smiled at the reminder; it was a story his father had told him often. There was something incredibly satisfying about seeing Skye surrounded by his family’s history.

  “What?” she asked, tucking a piece of loose hair behind her ear.

  Lucas blinked; he’d been staring at her without saying anything. He shook his head and smiled. Wanting to be closer to her, Lucas joined her on the swing. Despite its age, it didn't creak at his added weight, or when they started to slowly swing.

  The breeze sent pieces of her dark hair flying, and he fought the urge to reach out and run his hand through the silky strands.

  “So, where do you think your grandfather is?” Skye asked, finally breaking their companionable silence.

  “I’m not sure. With him there really is no telling. Pop loves to travel. My dad always said that's why we stopped visiting after my Nan passed away. He didn’t have a reason to stay, so he was rarely home.”

  Skye nodded as if that made sense. “He probably didn’t like being surrounded by the ghost of all those memories.”

  Lucas was all too familiar with what that felt like. He grimaced and immediately pushed aside the memories of packing up his childhood home, shifting his thoughts back to happier times. The few occasions his family had visited when Nan had been alive, Pop had dazzled him with stories of the different places he’d traveled. Lucas vaguely remembered hearing about Egypt, Australia, and Greece, but he could have been making them up. They were three of Pop’s favorite places, and Lucas had a box full of postcards to prove it. Once he and Lizzie had gotten old enough to read, Pop made a point to send them each a postcard from wherever he was visiting.

  Except for this time. They hadn’t heard anything from the man since Lizzie’s birthday three months ago.

  “I’ve always wanted to travel.”

  “Well, you are a Gypsy after all. Isn’t moving around in your blood?” Lucas grinned.

  To his delight, Skye smiled back and nudged him with her shoulder. “Now that I’ve become an official flyer, perhaps I can start venturing further than just what’s accessible by car.”

  “Look at you. We’ll make a globetrotter out of you yet.”

  She leaned against his shoulder, and Lucas held his breath, afraid that if he moved, she might decide against the physical contact.

  “I want to live, Lucas. I hadn’t realized how sheltered my life had become until all of this. There’s so much I haven’t gotten to do or see. I didn’t realize how badly I was crav
ing those things until the threat of never experiencing them was real.”

  “Why don’t you start a list so we can check them off together once this is over?”

  She gave him a look, and Lucas felt like he’d been punched in the gut. All the hope she tried so hard to keep in check shone brightly in her eyes. She wanted a future with him just as badly as he wanted one with her. Lucas pushed his emotions aside, wanting to do what he could to reassure her that a life after this wasn’t impossible.

  “Everything is going to be fine, Skye. I promise.” More than anything, Lucas wished he would be able to keep that promise.

  The light faded from her eyes, and Lucas could have kicked himself.

  “You can’t know that.”

  “Sure I can.”

  “How? Everything is so up in the air right now.” She straightened, wrapping the quilt more tightly around her small frame. “We don’t even know if we have tomorrow.”

  “How is that any different than before? No one ever knows if they have tomorrow, Skye. Hence the whole ‘carpe diem’ philosophy.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never pegged you for the philosopher type.”

  “There are quite a few things about me you don’t know.”

  “Oh?”

  “For one, I don’t give up. Ever.” He hoped the intensity of his gaze helped underscore the double meaning of his words.

  Skye cleared her throat. “What’s the next thing?”

  Lucas snickered. “Some things you’ll just have to learn in a more private setting.” He winked and watched as her face flushed.

  “Promises, promises, Detective.” She grinned, the shadows fleeing from her eyes, and turned her attention back to the setting in front of them.

  The grass beyond the back porch was bright green, and flowers in all different colors were nestled in boxes just below the slope of the hill. The picture was serene, and Lucas felt more relaxed than he had in a long time.

  “What do you want to do today?” he asked.

  “We need to do some research, see if we can come up with something on how to open the door to your Pop’s study.”

  “What else, though? We’re in Scotland; is there anything you want to do that’s not Druid related?”

  Skye shrugged. “Honestly, I just want this whole thing over with as soon as possible.”

  Lucas felt a stab to his chest but tried to ignore it. They all wanted this to be over; that didn’t mean Skye would walk away and he’d never see her again.

  “I can respect that.” Lucas got to his feet. “I can check in Pop’s room to see if maybe he had some nighttime reading.”

  “You think he liked to read about magic before bed?”

  “Possibly. Worth a try, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Sure. It makes about as much sense as anything else we’ve tried recently.”

  Lucas held his hand out. “I could use some help if you’re interested.”

  She placed her hand in his. “I’m definitely interested.”

  He grinned. “First, I’m going to need some whiskey.”

  “For breakfast?”

  “Hair of the dog,” he corrected. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, though, would you?” Skye shook her head, and Lucas explained, “It’s a special drink exclusively reserved for those of us lucky enough to suffer from hangovers.”

  “In that case, maybe we should get you two of them, Detective. You’re looking pretty peaky.”

  Lucas feigned offense, but Skye’s tinkling laugh made it impossible for him to keep up the pretense. “Good call. I’ll make it a double and we can get started.”

  After adding some whiskey to his coffee, they made their way to Pop’s bedroom. Lucas paused in front of the large door. He’d never been in here before; this was the only room in the house that had been off-limits to him as a kid.

  It felt wrong to snoop in here, but they were running out of viable options. If Pop was a Druid and had magically locked the study, then whatever he was keeping safe could very well be the thing they were searching for. They needed to get in there. Their lives might depend on it.

  Lucas pushed the door open and it creaked as it swung inward. He flipped the light switch on and the room lit up with dim orange light. They moved further into the room, and Lucas dragged his finger through a thick layer of dust that had gathered on top of the mahogany dresser. It housed several pictures of his grandmother, but there were none of Nan and Pop together. Now that he thought about it, there didn’t seem to be one picture of Pop anywhere in the house at all. Lucas frowned. It had been so long since he’d seen his grandfather, he couldn't even remember what he looked like.

  “No one has been here in a while, Lucas,” Skye commented as she walked to the large bed centered on the far wall. Dust flew into the air as she patted the heavy comforter.

  “He likes to travel,” Lucas replied, but the more he justified Pop’s absence with that excuse, the less he believed it.

  Where the hell is he?

  Lucas stepped over to a tall bookcase that sat next to a curtained window. A multitude of old books bound in leather stared back at him, and he chose one that read History of the Celts. “See, he was into light reading before bed.”

  “I see.” Skye reached down and chose another text titled Scotland and Its Magical History. “Maybe there will be something here.” She touched his arm, and he looked down into her amber eyes. “I’m sure he’s fine, Lucas. How else would he have locked the study?”

  Unless he wasn’t the one who locked it. Lucas forced a smile. “I’m sure he is, too.”

  “Reading time?” she asked, shaking the book in her hand.

  “Not yet. There’s something else about me you should probably know.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “My, aren’t you just full of surprises today. What else do I need to know, Detective?”

  Lucas leaned down so his mouth was near her ear, and he whispered, “I can make an amazing breakfast.”

  “I’d love to taste it,” she responded with a grin.

  “I’m sure you would.” Lucas winked, and Skye smacked his arm playfully. “As if your mind wasn’t in the gutter, too.”

  Skye laughed and, with books in hand, they left the dusty room and Lucas’ worries behind them.

  Chapter 5

  Lizzie

  I’m never drinking again. Lizzie winced as the pain from the light outside seared into her eyes. It took her a moment to realize she wasn’t in the room she shared with Skye, and that she wasn’t alone. A body was pressed against her back, and Lizzie smiled, memories of last night popping into her head.

  As it turned out, her brother had been right. They’d had no energy to do anything more than pass out, but with James' arm tight around her waist, it felt as though everything had changed between them.

  “Morning,” he grumbled as he rolled over onto his back, leaving her cold.

  “Morning,” she parroted, rolling over to face him. She laid a hand on his bare chest, and he smiled. Taking that as permission, she snuggled closer. “How’s the head?”

  “Not too bad, but I’m pretty sure I might still be a little drunk.”

  Lizzie laughed, and James rolled her over onto her back. He stared down at her, and the fire in his hazel eyes had all traces of humor disappearing. His dark hair was sleep mussed, and the thought of burying her hands in it had heat pooling in her belly.

  “You sure are beautiful,” he murmured almost reverently, his eyes running over her face like he was trying to memorize it. He brushed a strand of hair from her face.

  Lizzie swallowed hard. “You aren’t so bad yourself.”

  “Your brother is going to kill me,” James declared with the sideways grin that always made her heart flip.

  “And why is he going to do that?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light.

  “Because the only thing I can think of right now is how badly I want to kiss you.”

  Lizzie’s mouth went dry. “Oh?”

 
; James nodded. “And how I really wish I hadn't been so drunk last night.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because we just spent an entire night in bed together and I can’t recall any of it.” He leaned closer, and their mouths were only a breath apart. “Do you want me to kiss you?” he whispered, and she nodded, unable to form any coherent words.

  James leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. His lips were gentle at first, the whisper of a promise she didn’t fully understand. She felt his thumb caress her cheek, and Lizzie wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

  The sexy detective was the first man she’d met since her disaster of a marriage who stirred all sorts of warm feelings low in her belly. She’d imagined kissing James Matthews since the day she’d met him, but nothing from her wildest dreams could have prepared her for the way his full lips felt on hers.

  Or the way her body roared to life beneath him.

  He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. “Damn, Liz,” his voice was husky, “that was—”

  “Amazing?” Lizzie offered.

  “Definitely.” James rolled onto his back and propped an arm beneath his head. “And now your brother is absolutely going to kill me.”

  Lizzie laughed. “He will do no such thing. I won’t let him.”

  James nodded profusely. “He promised me he would. In the decade I’ve known your brother, he’s never been anything if not a man of his word.”

  “I’ll protect you.”

  He turned to face her, his hazel eyes growing serious. “Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to be protecting you?”

  “Can’t we protect each other?”

  His eyes were heavy, and Lizzie reached forward to run a finger along his strong jaw. She briefly touched the small scar on his chin, then he turned his face and kissed her palm, sending delicious shivers up her spine.

  She cuddled back into him, not ready to let go of this time with him just yet. Hangover or not, this is a damn fine way to start a morning.

  James pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. His body was warm against hers, and Lizzie sent a silent plea into the universe that once this was all over, he would still want her.