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

by Meg Anne

  He cocked his head to the side. “I thought that was obvious.”

  “Is this some kind of dream?”

  “I’m afraid it isn’t, and if you don’t wake up soon, your people are going to die.” His eyes were haunted as he said the words.

  “Wake up? So, what, I hit my head or something?”

  “We absorbed our power. A power so potent that it can make or destroy us.”

  Unable to focus on what exactly that meant, he focused on the smaller issue. “Why the hell are you here?”

  “A reminder of what could happen if you were to stray too far from your path.”

  “Can you stop with the fucking cryptic answers?”

  “Skye is the key.”

  “The key to what?”

  Lucas’ twin began to fade. “Everything.”

  “Wait!” Lucas shouted, but the man was already gone.

  “Lucas, please don’t die. I love you.” Skye’s voice filled his head, and Lucas closed his eyes, absorbing every word, even if it was only a dream.

  Lucas felt her before he opened his eyes. Her fingers toyed with his hair, and he kept his eyes closed a moment longer, simply enjoying her touch.

  The room was quiet around them. Where were they? Where were Lizzie and Matthews? Hadn’t Giles been here too? Lucas opened his eyes and looked up at Skye. His head was in her lap, and her eyes were closed.

  “Hey,” he choked out, his voice dry.

  Amber eyes flew open and looked down at his. They filled with tears, and she smiled at him. “Hey, yourself.”

  Lucas sat up on the couch and put his feet on the floor, his muscles screaming with each move. “I feel like I got hit by a Mack truck.”

  “From what Giles told us, it was the magical equivalent of one.”

  “Huh?”

  Lizzie appeared in the doorway before Skye could answer. “You dumbass,” she sobbed as she rushed to him. “We thought you’d died.”

  “Why does that make me a dumbass?” Lucas asked once she pulled away.

  “Glad you aren’t dead,” Matthews told him from where he stood, just inside the living room from the kitchen.

  “I didn’t know that was a possibility.”

  “Am I allowed to come in now?”

  Lucas looked over to the patio doors. Giles stood just outside, his face red and looking more irritated than he’d ever seen him.

  “I guess,” Matthews said.

  As the old man came inside, he focused intently on Lucas, like he was a rabid dog about to attack. Lucas noticed the ring of bruises around the man's neck. “Did the Druid attack you?” he asked.

  “More like your crazed partner.” Giles nodded toward Matthews, who simply shrugged.

  “Seems I missed a lot. What the hell happened?”

  “Do you remember anything?” Skye asked.

  “Not really. I remember passing out and having a bizarre dream.”

  “Do ye feel different?” Giles questioned.

  “Not really,” Lucas lied.

  The truth was it felt as if everything had changed. Standing here now, with three of the most important people in his life—plus Giles—Lucas could feel each of their life forces as if they were strings on a guitar he could reach out and pluck.

  “Your body absorbed a lot of power,” Skye informed him, mimicking what he’d told himself in his dream. His head fucking hurt, and he pressed his fingers to his temples.

  “From where exactly?”

  “The book,” Lizzie answered.

  “Apparently, Giles here knew there was a way to activate it, but forgot to tell us,” Matthews finished, shooting an angry glare at Giles, who shifted his eyes away from them and down to the floor.

  “That seems like a hell of a nugget to leave out of the conversation.” Lucas dropped his hands to glare at the old man, who shrunk into the couch.

  Lucas frowned. Is he afraid of me?

  “I dinnae know how to activate it, or if ye’d even be able to. Had I mentioned it, ye would have fixated on trying to figure it out, rather than studying up like ye should’ve been.”

  Lucas got to his feet and began to pace. What the hell had happened to him? Why did he suddenly feel like he could jump buildings in a single bound? Or lift a car without breaking a sweat?

  Everyone in the room watched him, which only fueled his frustration. “Will you all please stop looking at me like I’m going to sprout fucking horns and a forked tail?”

  “Sorry, man, you just look different,” Matthews admitted.

  Lucas stalked out of the room and into the bathroom. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. His partner was right.

  His face was the same shape and color, as was his hair, but his eyes had changed. They’d always been the same blue as his sister’s, but now they were brighter. The color reminded him of a bolt of lightning as it streaked across the sky. Was this the result of the power he supposedly absorbed?

  “Are you okay?”

  Lucas turned toward the voice. Skye stood in the doorway.

  “Honestly, I have no fucking clue,” he admitted. “I don’t feel the same, Skye. I feel—”

  “Powerful?” she offered.

  He nodded. “Yeah, and it scares the hell out of me. Then there’s the four of you all looking at me like I’m three seconds away from turning into him, and I… I just can’t take it.”

  “Like you’re turning into who?” Her brows lowered, and her lips dipped in a frown as she stepped into the bathroom.

  Lucas let out a breath. “Like I’m turning into the Druid.”

  “I mean, you are a Druid…” Skye held up her hands when he glared. “Okay, not the time.” Reaching out, she took his hand in hers. “No one is thinking that Lucas. You could have died. We’re just so fucking happy you didn’t.” She took another step toward him, and he pulled her into his arms. Her scent filled his lungs, and he clung to it.

  No matter what else happened, or what other curve balls were thrown their way, as long as he had Skye, they would figure out the rest.

  “So how does this work exactly?” Lucas asked Giles.

  Giles shrugged. “It’s hard to say, having no power of my own.”

  Lucas scowled. “I think you’re starting to outstay your usefulness.”

  Giles smiled at that, not at all threatened. “Yer hardly the first to say so. Nor are ye the scariest.”

  Wanting to attempt this without an audience, Lucas had asked the others to run into town and pick up some supplies. Skye hadn’t left willingly, but she understood that this was something he wanted to do alone. At least until he understood what he was doing and had some semblance of control over it. He couldn’t put them at unnecessary risk just because they wanted to be supportive.

  Lucas narrowed his eyes and reminded himself to breathe. For now, he needed this wormy piece of shit, which meant he couldn’t punch him in the throat… no matter how badly he wanted to. “Fine. Where do you suggest I start, then?”

  Giles held out the book. “Do me a favor and try to read that.”

  Lucas tried, and failed, to keep the sarcasm from his voice. “You think my power turned me into a human version of Google translate?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Never mind.” He took the book with more than a little hesitation. A feeling of euphoria rolled up into his body once he touched it. Lucas promptly dropped the book. “What the fuck!”

  Giles pinched the bridge of his nose. “Bloody hell,” he muttered.

  “That thing has a damned hard-on for me, and you’re the one who’s put out?”

  Giles tilted his head, trying to make sense of Lucas’ words. “What yer feeling must be the book’s affinity to ye.”

  “Care to break that down for me?”

  He sighed. “When yer blood mixed with the power that was trapped inside those pages, ye unlocked it. Freed it. Who knows what secrets it truly contains?”

  “You’re not making a damned bit of sense, old man.”

  “It’
s an extension of ye, finally finding its rightful place at last.”

  “Like a pet whose owner just returned from war?”

  Giles blinked. “That’s one way of putting it.”

  Lucas shrugged. “It’s one I can wrap my head around.”

  “Fair enough. Try again, this time without throwing the priceless artifact on the floor.”

  Lucas bit back a growl but bent to recover the book. His fingers outstretched, only a fraction of an inch separating them from the book, a palpable energy radiated off of it. If he didn’t know better, Lucas would have said the book was eager for him to hold it. He shuddered.

  Grasping the book, he felt the same flood of joy fill his body. It was heady, sort of like being high and having your first orgasm, but times a hundred. Lucas flushed, realizing he was rock hard. Thank fuck he’d made the others leave; there was no way they’d have let him live this down.

  “Now, open it,” Giles said, polite enough to keep his eyes above Lucas’ waist.

  Lucas flipped the cover open, blinking as the swirling symbols shifted and rearranged themselves on the page. “Fuck me,” he muttered. The old man had been right. Whatever language or code the book had been in before, it was now perfectly legible.

  “What does it say?” Giles asked, his voice low, reverent.

  Lucas swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “To the rightful heirs of the O’Leary line. May these pages guide your way and illuminate the path before you.” He blinked, looking up at Giles. “O’Leary?”

  Giles shrugged. “People marry. Name changes are not uncommon.”

  “But if the power is in the male line, wouldn’t the name have stayed the same?”

  Giles’ eyes clouded, as if he was weighing something and deciding how much to reveal.

  “The time for secrets has long since passed. Just tell me what you know.”

  “Names change for lots of reasons, Lucas.”

  Lucas was about to ask what he meant, but the answer was obvious. Why did people change their names? To escape. To hide. Somewhere along the line, someone in his family changed their name to hide who they were, or who they were related to. He tucked the revelation away.

  “So I’m an O’Leary. At least as far as the book is concerned.”

  “So it would seem.”

  “Super.”

  Giles’ lips twitched on a smile.

  Turning another page, Lucas let out a low whistle. “Starfire? Beast bond? Cure wounds…” Lucas trailed off. Each spell sounded more surreal than the last, but the possibility of being able to heal himself was too irresistible to ignore. “Shall we try it?” Lucas asked, looking up at Giles, a frisson of energy rushing through him. For the first time, he was excited about the possibilities that were open to him.

  “Isn’t that the point?”

  Lucas scowled, hating the patronizing tone. He sat down on the sofa and looked down at the angry red slash across his palm. Shifting his focus back to the book, he read the notations that had been left in the margin:

  The worse the ailment, the stronger the required catalyst. As always, blood works best. First, draw the rune over the wound. If there are several injuries, begin with the worst, or the one closest to the heart. Place a drop of blood at the center as you speak the word of power.

  “I think there’s enough blood there already,” he muttered, glancing up at Giles. “What’s a ‘word of power’?”

  “The word that activates the rune.”

  Lucas nodded. That was what he had thought, but he didn’t want to assume. “What do you draw a rune with, if not blood?”

  Giles shrugged. “Anything would do. In the hands of a powerful Druid, even just tracing the outline would work.”

  “So all those wards… I didn’t have to cut myself open to make them work?”

  The older man’s answering smile was sympathetic. “To use yer blood in that way makes the strongest spells. But ye could have used paint, or even a pen, and then pressed yer blood into the rune and created something almost as strong.”

  “Of fucking course.” Shaking his head, Lucas looked down into his palm. The idea of putting anything on top of the thick gash made him wince. Best stick to something that wouldn’t be too painful.

  Lucas sucked on his index finger for a moment to wet it, and then traced the curling lines across the palm of his hand. As he’d hoped, his saliva dampened some of the dried blood, creating a light pink rune. Hopefully that was enough; he was really tired of making himself bleed for no damn reason.

  With a final glance at the word scrawled on the bottom of the page, Lucas uttered the word without any need for assistance. “Cneasú.” Key-a-su. Heal.

  His hand grew hot, and he hissed at the unexpected searing, before the rune flared a blueish white and faded into his hand. Once the rune disappeared, so did the wound. The whole thing took less than a minute.

  He whistled. “Now that’s just fucking useful.”

  Giles’ green eyes glowed. “How do ye feel, lad?”

  A flood of energy rolled through him, and a grin stretched across his face. “Fucking invincible.”

  The other man nodded. “Let’s hope that proves true, Lucas.”

  For once the threat of the Druid didn’t fill him with bone-deep dread. Finally, the scales were balanced, if not in knowledge, at least in raw power. Lucas’ grin turned feral.

  “Maybe the Druid should be more worried about what I am going to do to him.”

  Chapter 22

  Skye

  Skye walked a few feet behind Lizzie and James to give them their space. She’d never actually been a third wheel before and it was fairly uncomfortable, even if she was friends with both parties involved.

  They made their way into the village, passing by the small shops lined up against the road. People bustled around, running their errands, each the star of their own story. If only her story was as simple as it used to be.

  Paint. Avoid human contact. Repeat.

  Those were the days.

  She watched Lizzie and James who strolled easily, sharing smiles and holding hands. Then again, had she not embarked on this journey, she wouldn’t be able to see Lucas’ sister so happy. Nor would she have spent an amazing night in her sexy detective's arms.

  A delicious shiver ran through her as the images from the night before played through her mind. Admittedly, Lucas passing out and nearly dying had taken some of the magic out of the morning after, but it hadn’t dulled the way she felt about him.

  She loved him. Fully and completely, and it scared the hell out of her. The dream she’d had about the Gypsy being cursed by the Druid still weighed heavily on her mind. She couldn’t decide whether it was her own fears sneaking up on her, or if it truly was some kind of warning.

  What if Lucas was different now that he had all that power? What if he turned against her for being a Gypsy, just like his ancestors had for centuries?

  “Skye!”

  She looked in time to narrowly avoid running into Lizzie. “Sorry,” she said, chuckling softly.

  Lizzie watched her with a knowing smile. Skye’s cheeks heated. “What’d I miss?”

  “We were thinking of grabbing a coffee.” James gestured to the coffee shop they had stopped in front of, and Skye nodded.

  “Coffee is always good.”

  “Excellent.” Lizzie clapped her hands, and the three of them went inside the small coffee house. The scent of coffee beans and freshly baked muffins filled her lungs, and Skye breathed it in as if it were the only thing keeping her alive.

  The space was crowded, filled with the noise of people sharing stories of their day. Skye smiled. So much life. It was a direct contrast to who she was at her core: someone who lived and breathed death. To finally be a part of their world filled her with joy.

  The only empty table in the entire shop was a small one in the back corner. Skye followed Lizzie and James over to it and took the seat against the wall so that she could continue people watching. Plus, having her back turned
to people made her nervous. She couldn’t see them coming to avoid an accidental bump, and had Seen one too many deaths that way.

  “I’ll grab your coffees,” James offered and leaned down to briefly kiss Lizzie.

  Once he was out of earshot, Lizzie fully faced Skye. “What’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Something’s bugging you. What is it?”

  “It’s been a long morning.”

  “Absolutely, but Lucas is fine now.” Lizzie leaned back in her seat and folded her arms. “So. Spill; what’s going on?”

  Skye let out a breath. How the hell was she supposed to tell Lizzie she was afraid of who her brother might become now that he’d inherited his power? “I’m exhausted, Lizzie, that’s all.” She gave her friend a weak smile.

  Lizzie studied her, biting down on the inside of her cheek. Finally, she sighed. “All right, I get that you don’t want to talk, but if that changes, let me know.”

  “Thanks,” Skye said softly. “I will.” She looked over at James who stole glances at them while he stood in line. “So, tell me, what’s going on with you two?”

  Lizzie blushed. “He’s so great. I’ve honestly never felt like this. Even with my ex—before he turned into an abusive bastard—things weren’t this good. James is…” She stopped and bit her lip, her brow knitting as she searched for the right word. “Perfect. I’ll say it, things with James are perfect.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Skye told her.

  They fell silent, and Skye focused on the chatter around her. Not listening for anything in particular, just simply letting the sound of it all fill her mind with something other than death and betrayal.

  “Did ye hear about the bodies the police found last night?”

  Skye straightened in her chair, listening intently to the women speaking at the table to her right.

  “I did! Can ye believe it? Murdered and burned? And in Loch Calluna!”

  The color drained from Skye’s face as images from the Chicago crime scenes flashed through her mind.

  “I heard ‘twasn’t the only ones either, but that they found three more the same way early this mornin’.”