Call Me Wicked

by Jamie Sobrato

  “I wish, but the Salem Witch Trials weren’t that long ago.”

  “Yeah, but those were the freaking Puritans doing the persecuting. What do you expect?”

  She smiled. “That’s why most of us witches live in large, liberal cities now. We figure if we’re ever found out, we’re more likely to be accepted as normal.”

  “I’m sorry you have to live like this. The more I think about it, the angrier I get.”

  Lauren turned away from the computer and studied his expression. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “What? Of course I am.”

  “Thank you for caring. I have to admit I never expected a mortal to give a damn one way or the other.”

  “Then you’re not giving people enough credit. I’m sure there are lots of us who will care.”

  “It’s hard to think that way, since history has proven otherwise.”

  “We live in more progressive times now. There will always be narrow-minded people, but I’ll bet whenever you finally come out of the closet as a race, you’re going to meet with more acceptance than you might expect.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t imagine. The Order has made it hard for us to feel anything but paranoia.”

  “Those bastards need to be brought down. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

  “It wouldn’t be fair to get you more involved than you already are. You’d be in even more danger.”

  “It should be my choice whether or not I want to put myself in danger for a cause I care about.”

  He looked and sounded dead serious. Lauren found herself reeling from the rush of emotion toward this man. During that weekend when she’d taken him in every conceivable way, she would have never expected him to have this sense of outraged justice, never expected him to volunteer to slay her demons. The heroism in his words humbled her and moments passed before she was able to speak past the tightness in her throat.

  “Why do you care so much?” she asked.

  “I care about what happens to you, for one thing. And for another, I can see you’re a whole race of people in trouble. Why wouldn’t I care?”

  She shrugged. “You barely know me.” Her answer served as a reminder. She needed to rein in her spiraling emotions. He was a mortal. She was a witch. Their lives were in danger. There was no room for sex or, God forbid, romance in this situation.

  He went silent and seemed to be staring at a spot on the desk that wasn’t there. She desperately wanted to reach out and touch his strong jaw. She couldn’t help imagining what that soft brown stubble would feel like against her face, her breasts, her belly….

  The aching between her legs was too much, demanding attention, demanding release. She shifted in her seat, trying to will her thoughts back to safe territory.

  When he finally spoke again, he said, “I guess racism is more of a hot-button issue for me than I realized. I had to think for a while to figure out why.”

  “Why is it?”

  “I dated a woman for a few years in my twenties. We were in love, and we were getting serious about each other. I was thinking of proposing to her, actually.”

  “What happened?”

  “My parents disapproved of the fact that she was African-American. They were friendly enough to her when they thought she was just another girl I was dating, but when I told them I was thinking about getting married to her, they flipped out.”

  “Wow, I’m sorry.”

  “I tried not to let their opinions affect me, but I have to admit, their reaction made me hesitate. Then she found out about my parents’ feelings and she broke up with me.”

  “That must have been rough.” But Lauren felt a secret pang of relief that he hadn’t gotten married in his twenties, because then she never would have met him.

  Except, their meeting had gotten him into trouble with her. She knew she wasn’t supposed to be glad to have Carson around. It was just kind of hard to remember why when she wanted to do him so badly.

  “As far as the relationship went, breaking up was for the best, I guess. We were young and dumb, and probably wouldn’t have gone the distance. But I’ve always been ashamed that I might have let my parents’ racist opinion sway me even a little.”

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself. You probably hesitated because you knew what a difficult life you’d be bringing her into, with in-laws who didn’t like her. And what would that have meant for any kids you might have had? It would have been hard on them, too.”

  “None of that is any excuse. I promised myself I’d never be swayed by racism again, and maybe that’s why I feel so strongly now about your cause…and you.”

  Lauren considered his words. None of it was any excuse? Had she been trying to justify to herself why she didn’t want to deal with the complications of getting more involved with Carson?

  She didn’t want to think about their relationship now. The layers upon layers of problems they were dealing with were all making her head hurt.

  Carson shifted his leg, and it bumped against her, sending a chill through her body that was far too intense for a mere brushing of body parts. The screaming of her libido overshadowed their present situation and reminded her that she seriously needed to get laid.

  “So do you get along with your parents otherwise?” she asked, hoping to distract herself from any more thoughts of sex.

  But Carson was studying her, and he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he said, “When I brushed up against you, you reacted, didn’t you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your nipples got hard.”

  She glanced down at her traitorous nipples. “It’s a little cold in here.”

  “It just suddenly got cold when my leg bumped you?”

  Lauren rolled her eyes. “Oh stop.”

  “You’re hot for me. Admit it. Those sex dreams we’ve been sharing aren’t cutting it, are they?”

  She tried not to laugh but failed. “I told you that witches are highly sensual. We’re more sexually responsive than mortals.”

  “I noticed. I suspect you’ve gotten to come the past two nights, while all I’ve gotten is rock-hard.”

  “And yes,” she admitted before she could stop herself. “I am very attracted to you. That doesn’t hurt.”

  Or it did. Or something.

  “You’re crazy if you think we can stay cooped up in this hotel room without having sex.”

  “I’ll make sure Sebastian gets you your own room as soon as one’s available.”

  “If you want me to stay in this crazy-ass place, we’re sleeping in the same room.”

  “What is that? Some kind of threat?”

  Carson shrugged, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe.”

  “Are you saying that if I don’t sleep with you, you won’t stay within the safety of Sebastian’s protection?”

  “Not exactly, but now that you mention it, yes. That’s what I’m saying.”

  “That’s not fair,” she said lamely.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll give you a bit of time to consider my offer. How’s that?”

  She glared at him but said nothing, and unlike other mortals who might have cowered under her cold glare, Carson simply smiled as if he knew he’d won the battle before it had even gotten started.

  CARSON WAS STARTING to learn how to push Lauren’s buttons, and he was having far too much fun with his newfound knowledge. If he was going to be tortured by agonizingly good sexual dreams at night without getting any satisfaction from them, he needed to find some kind of entertainment for himself during the day.

  When he’d seen Lauren working at the laptop, it reminded him that he hadn’t once thought about work since he’d arrived in L.A. His work, which he’d once claimed to be his all-consuming passion and his reason for not getting involved with anyone, hadn’t even crossed his mind.

  Admittedly, having a woman as gorgeous as Lauren around was a good way of giving a guy a brand-new all-consuming passion. But still, he was the creative director of a m
ajor ad agency. He was supposed to be running the show, and he hadn’t even spared a thought for the job.

  That was when he knew he didn’t really give a damn about his work. And for a moment he felt without purpose, as though his life had been an elaborate forgery.

  “To answer your question about my parents, no, we don’t get along much anymore. I don’t think I ever forgave them completely for their reaction to my girlfriend back then.”

  “You have any siblings?” Lauren said as she stood and stretched.

  He tried to focus on her words, but instead the sight of her long lean torso distracted him. Her little black top pulled up as she stretched, exposing the pale smooth skin of her belly above the waist of her jeans. He wanted desperately to touch her there, to slide his tongue over her. She followed his gaze and then tugged her top down in a hurry.

  “Behave yourself,” she said with a little smile.

  “What did you say?”

  “Siblings. Do you have any?”

  “An older brother and a younger sister. They’re both closer to my parents than I am and still live within a few minutes of the family McMansion in Woodside.”

  “The family Mc What?”

  “McMansion—you know, one of those stucco monstrosities that everyone around here seems to aspire to own. A big-ass house with too many bedrooms and too many bathrooms and a pool in the backyard.”

  “Oh right. I forgot you were a spoiled little rich kid like me.”

  “Your family strikes me as old money. Mine’s all new money from some smart real estate investments my dad made back in the seventies.”

  “Yeah, the wine business has been in my family for centuries,” Lauren said. “First in France and now here. I guess that counts as old money.”

  “I would think with all that money would come some power to defeat The Order,” Carson said.

  The amount of anger he felt toward an organization he hadn’t known existed until a few days ago surprised him. Pure outrage filled him to think that there were people dedicating their lives to hunting down and killing people like Lauren.

  She shrugged. “You would think, but I guess the thing about the witch clan is that we’ve had to live in fear for so long, we’ve let the fear control us.”

  “I guess I can see how that would happen. Like you said, witch hunting isn’t exactly a new thing.”

  She regarded him curiously. “Why aren’t you afraid of us?” she asked.

  Good question. Carson wasn’t sure he knew the answer, but in his gut, he just knew Lauren wasn’t someone to fear. Her cousin Sebastian, however, was another matter entirely.

  “I’ve always believed in trusting my gut about people, and my gut tells me you won’t harm me.”

  “Your gut hasn’t really dealt with the supernatural before, though. And, I haven’t harmed you. Remember that obsession thing.”

  He shook his head. “Whatever that was it didn’t hurt me. I could sense from the start that there was something different about you, something that set you apart from other women.”

  “Well, thank you for trusting me. It makes things a little less complicated, at least for now.”

  Carson watched her walk across the room and peer out the window, and his entire body ached to follow her and take her into his arms. He wanted to throw her on the bed and bury himself in her the way he had in the dance floor dream, until all the damn aching stopped.

  Sadly he also knew that probably wouldn’t go over very well at the moment. Soon enough though, he’d convince her, damn the consequences.

  He wasn’t afraid of a big bad addiction, not if it meant having Lauren in his bed again. Now that he was beginning to understand how little he was missing his job—how little he was missing his entire life, actually—he realized he had nothing to lose by going after Lauren with everything he had. A woman as amazing as her overshadowed everything else he’d thought mattered to him. She made the rest of it seem as meaningless as it really was.

  8

  HANGING AROUND with a bunch of witches was driving Carson to drink. He and Lauren weren’t allowed to go out anywhere, and, since she had yet to take him up on his not-so-subtle offers of sex, their only entertainment was the nightclub. Which was where he sat now, feeling the slightest bit out of place.

  Sebastian wasn’t helping matters. As he served drinks, he took every opportunity he had to glare at Carson as if he wanted to snap his neck. Enough was enough already. Finally, while Lauren was in the restroom, Carson decided to confront her cousin.

  Sebastian set the drink Carson had ordered in front of him, letting some of it slosh onto the bar, and his expression challenged Carson to say something.

  “What’s your problem?” he asked casually.

  “You,” Sebastian answered.

  “Look, man, I appreciate your letting me stay here. I know you’re only doing it as a favor to Lauren—”

  “I don’t want your thanks, mortal. I want you the hell away from my cousin.”

  “That’s her choice, don’t you think?”

  The raven on Sebastian’s arm fluttered its wing, and Carson glanced down at it.

  “You’re lucky you have a drop of witch blood, or I would have already killed you for sleeping with Lauren.”

  The fact that Sebastian’s tone was chilling, without a hint of rage, made his words seem more dire. Carson grabbed his courage with both hands, refusing to let this guy get the advantage. “Is that a threat?”

  “Call it whatever you want. Just understand that if I have the chance, I will not hesitate to take your life.” And with that, Sebastian turned on his heel and went to the other end of the bar.

  Carson watched him and sipped his drink, his male ego urging him to jump over the bar and settle their dispute with his fists. But he knew he was on shaky ground, in a nightclub full of witches with supernatural powers. The odds were not in his favor so there wasn’t a hell of a lot he could do.

  He downed the last of his Johnnie Walker Black and winced at the familiar, smooth burn as it went down. Not even the best whiskey—or Sebastian’s promise of retribution—could rid Carson of the intense need that got worse every time Lauren was near. How the hell was he supposed to stay in that tiny room with a woman who was the best kind of addiction, and yet never get to fulfill his need? Absolute insanity.

  He watched her return to the bar, where she stood at the far end talking to her jerk-ass cousin. Just watching her mouth and his cock went stiff in his jeans again. Something had to give—preferably Lauren, and preferably tonight.

  No more of her goddamn excuses, and to hell with Sebastian’s threats. He was either going to have Lauren hot and willing underneath him, or he was outta here.

  A sly-looking blonde watched Carson from a few feet away, but he kept his expression blank and turned his attention back to Lauren. She stopped talking to her cousin and caught his eye, then came toward him.

  “Hey,” she said when she’d made her way through the growing crowd. “You’re still here.”

  “The thought of going back to the room isn’t exactly thrilling. I’d rather put up with your cousin’s glare than stare at those four walls.”

  “I’m sorry. I know it’s easy to go stir-crazy all cooped up here. And don’t worry about Sebastian—I’ll handle him.”

  “If he’s got a problem with me, I’ll be glad to take it up with him outside.”

  Her mouth went flat. “Spare me the testosterone show, okay?”

  “Sure, as soon as your cousin stops looking at me like he wants to kill me.”

  Lauren leaned in close, her gaze cool and piercing. “My cousin is one of the most dangerous witches you will ever meet. I suggest you give him as wide a berth as you can.”

  “Or what? He’ll kill me? Or is that just what he wants me to believe?”

  She said nothing, and he could tell she was choosing her words carefully.

  “You really think he’d do something crazy?” he finally asked.

  “I don’t know what
he’d do.”

  “I think it’s time for me to get the hell out of here. I’ll take my chances with the assholes who chased you out of San Francisco.”

  “No,” Lauren said, as if that settled the matter. “You will stay here.”

  “Look babe, I’d love to stick around and see if your cousin will murder me in my sleep, but the truth is, if you and I aren’t going to be happening, I’ve got no reason to stay here.”

  “The Order will kill you, Carson. They’ll torture you and then kill you.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. Even if they do figure out who I am, torturing or killing me will only bring the police. Because, unlike your elders, my friends and family won’t hesitate to go to the authorities. I can’t see it happening.” He didn’t want to sound dismissive of something that Lauren was so serious about, but he honestly didn’t believe The Order would track him down. The threat certainly wasn’t as strong as the one Sebastian had issued.

  “Carson, I’m serious. They will be after you.”

  In his entire vaguely pointless life, Carson had never faced actual death. There’d been that car accident in college, but he’d never seen the collision coming. He’d simply woken up in the hospital afterward, in some pain but happily unaware that his car was totaled.

  And now, the prospect of death still seemed so far removed from his reality, it was absurd. People didn’t get tortured and killed by secret witch-hunting societies in modern-day California.

  “And I’m serious. I’m out of here first thing in the morning.” He’d try to persuade her to join him and, even if she didn’t, he’d figure out some way to lend his support to the witches’ fight against The Order.

  Lauren sat on the bar stool next to him and a mojito appeared before her. She picked up the glass of clear mint-laced liquid and took a long drink.

  “Is this about me? Is it getting too hard to be around me?”

  “No, I’m getting too hard to be around you.” He eyed his own crotch meaningfully, and Lauren’s gaze followed his down to his zipper, where his cock was pushing to get out.