Six Times a Charm

by Deanna Chase

  I looked around to make sure no one else was in the room. “Gram, it’s me, Selene. Where else would I be?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my eyes. I can see that it’s you,” she said crossly. “Get home and get the book. They’re after you, child.”

  “What book? Who’s after me?”

  “Don’t let them catch you.” Again her eyes closed and her breathing evened.

  Obviously they had her on good stuff. She was downright loopy. Who would possibly be after me? I looked at my watch. It was just 9 a.m., though it felt like it should be afternoon by now. In my rush, I brought absolutely nothing to do. If Gram’s pattern held, she wouldn’t wake up again for a couple hours. I had more than enough time to run down to the gift shop and get a cup of tea.

  Chapter 5

  The overstuffed shelves in the gift shop were filled with very little that interested me. I considered running back to Gram’s house to see if I could find a book when I came across Little Dorrit. I’d seen the miniseries but never read the book. Seeing as time was plentiful at the moment, it was as good a time as any to read Dickens. After checking out, I crossed the lobby to the coffee kiosk.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I’ll have a soy iced chai latte, nonfat, no whip.”

  Minutes later, drink in hand, I was headed outside for a couple moments of fresh air before I went back upstairs. I sat on a bench as far away from the door and the smokers as I could get. The sunshine soaked into my skin, making me tingle. I took a sip of my tea and cracked open the book, deeply inhaling its scent. There was nothing like the smell of a new book to awaken my mind. Before I could finish the first paragraph, however, someone sat on the bench with me. I glanced over out of habit, then startled at the familiar face.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, not even trying to stop the sharpness in my voice.

  “I told you I had to speak with you.”

  My mouth fell open. “Mr. Hunt, did you follow me here? I’m not comfortable with that. You have to leave or I’m calling the police.” I pulled out my phone. Hunt snatched it from my hand so quickly it was nearly blur. I jumped off the bench and stumbled away, not wanting to turn my back to him.

  He stood, moving towards me with purpose. “Selene, we need to talk.”

  “Yeah, me to the cops, and you to a psychiatrist.”

  “Stop being stupid. You’re in grave danger.”

  “No shit.”

  Hunt advanced faster than I could inch away. It was like a bad dream, where I was on a treadmill. I kept walking but got nowhere.

  “Just stop,” Hunt said and lunged for me.

  I covered my head and yelped, but his hands never touched me. I lifted my hands slowly. He stood too close, a little smile ticking his mouth. “So we’re playing that game?”

  I stared at him. What game? I hadn’t done anything—except panic. “I’m going to scream at the top of my lungs if you don’t leave immediately.” I glanced pointedly at a cop car in front of the hospital.

  Hunt chuckled, and the sound sent a cold shiver up my spine. “Be my guest, Selene—but first, look around. Has anyone noticed anything happening so far?”

  He was right. Not one of the people nearby had glanced in our direction. What was wrong with everyone? I screamed at the top of my lungs until my throat was raw and my cheeks were hot. Not one person even looked my way. He looked at me like I was spoiled toddler. “Satisfied yet?”

  “Is this a dream?”

  Hunt ignored my words and reached toward me again. I flinched and stumbled—fell hard on my butt. A truly merry laugh erupted from Hunt now. It filled the air like thousands of bells chiming in perfect harmony and washed over my skin like a bucket of ice water. “I’d help you up, but alas I’m prevented from touching you.”

  I scrambled to my feet. “It’s not funny, Mr. Hunt!” I snapped. “Oh, you’re a big tough guy following me around, trying to scare the bejeezus out of me. Well, I don’t appreciate it. I don’t know who you are or what you want, but stay away from me!”

  “No, Selene. I don’t think this is funny. If you’d stop acting like a scared deer every time you see me and listen, maybe you wouldn’t be so utterly stupid. I have no choice but to be here. Had I any other option, I would have never come to you of all people.” His dark green eyes were almost black with rage, and he inched closer as he spat his words out.

  “And damn it all, stop calling me Mr. Hunt! Do you have any idea how stupid that sounds?” He threw my anger back at me beat for beat, his eyes blazing as he tried to grab me again. Once again his hands were stopped three inches from my arms, apparently unable to get any closer.

  I studied his hovering hands with curiosity that battled the fear and anger away. Why couldn’t he touch me? “What else am I supposed call you?” I asked.

  He threw up his hands in exasperation. “Cheney. Just bloody well call me Cheney.”

  “And not that I’m complaining, but why can’t you touch me?”

  “Because you aren’t allowing it,” he growled then strode away. After about five paces, he turned back. “I’m coming by tonight. Be ready. No more games, Selene.” And like that he disappeared into thin air.

  Holy shit.

  Chapter 6

  Cheney had absconded with my cell phone, so I had no way to call anyone and Grandma was in no state to talk. When visiting hours ended, I slowly walked out of the hospital, leery of everything and everyone I passed. The two of them had officially freaked me out. I stopped by a market on my way home to buy food for dinner—for me and Stewie. When I arrived home, I carefully surveyed the yard before getting out of my car.

  I hoped rather than believed Cheney didn’t know where I lived. I got out of the car as quickly as possible and opened the trunk. I picked up my one grocery bag and adjusted my purse so I could also grab the cat food. As soon as I had the bags, the trunk shut without me touching it.

  “Need a hand?” Cheney’s voice came from behind me.

  I turned toward him, adrenaline pumping through my veins as my body readied to dump everything and run, but all he did was take the bag of groceries from my arms.

  “How do you appear out of nowhere? Are you magic?”

  He cocked an eyebrow and shot me a half smirk that would’ve been ridiculously sexy if I didn’t hate him—and if he didn’t scare the crap out of me. “Shall we?”

  I rolled my eyes but led him to the front door. “If I let you in, will you promise not to hurt me?” A fat lot of good a promise would do me, but having one would make me feel better at least.

  “If I wanted to hurt you, I already would’ve, Selene.”

  The way my named rolled off his tongue sent chills down my spine. It was so familiar, yet completely terrifying. “So why are you here?”

  He didn’t reply, only nodded toward the door.

  “You didn’t promise,” I said stubbornly.

  He looked up at the sky. “I promise harm will not come to Selene Warren this night by my hands. If it does, may the stars rain down fire upon me and may my flesh boil from my body for all eternity.” He looked back at me with a wicked smile. “Happy now?”

  “A simple ‘I promise’ would’ve been fine,” I muttered as I opened the door and flipped the light switch. In the kitchen Cheney placed the bag on the counter, then leaned against it and stared at me. Something swam underneath the surface of his calm gaze, but I couldn’t figure out what. He looked lean and dangerous—a predator watching its prey. I tried to ignore him and the nervous energy that swirled in my stomach as I ripped open the cat food bag and poured it into Stewie’s dish.

  “Here kitty, kitty.” I had little hope of him showing up with a stranger in the house.

  The sound of a phone vibrating practically sent me into cardiac failure. Cheney snickered and pulled my phone out of his pocket, obviously enjoying how jumpy I was.

  “Who’s Michael Christian?” he asked, an unfathomable expression on his face.

  I met his gaze. He knew e
verything about my past but not that I’d been dating Michael. Very interesting. It didn’t take long for anger to find its way to the surface though. Was he looking through my phone? “None of your damn business. Give me back my phone.”

  “He keeps calling. Rather desperate, don’t you think?”

  I reached for my phone. He stretched his hand out of my reach. “Should I answer it?”

  “No! Just give me back my phone. You have no right.”

  Cheney arched a brow, his finger hovering over the talk button.

  “Michael is my boyfriend.” I flinched. “I mean fiancé.” Saying the new title out loud made my stomach flutter. It was going to take some getting used to. “Now for Pete’s sake, give it back.”

  Cheney’s eyes hardened, all traces of teasing gone, and he stared at me as if I had just stabbed his mom. We spoke at the same time,

  “Why are you here?”

  “You have a fiancé?”

  We had a standoff, of sorts, in the middle of my grandmother’s kitchen. The tension couldn’t have been hacked away with a chainsaw. It was as if every particle between us waited for something to ignite them. Stewie slithered around my legs. I broke eye contact with Cheney and scooped my cat off the floor. Stewie lounged in my arms like the fat orange hairball he was. He purred loudly and put a soft paw on my cheek. “How are you, pumpkin?“ I asked, glad to have a distraction from the strange man.

  Cheney reached his hand toward Stewie.

  “He doesn’t like strangers,” I tried to warn him, but he ignored me. I braced myself for the claws and panicked getaway, but Stewie didn’t object. He stayed perfectly content in my arms as Cheney petted him, purring even louder. The little traitor.

  “He likes me just fine.”

  “Well, at least one of us does.” I could feel Cheney’s eyes boring into me though I refused to look at him. He was standing too close. “Now tell me already—why exactly are you here?”

  “What’s your boyfriend like?” he countered.

  “Fiancé,” I corrected and he flinched. Curious. I was about to tell him Michael was big and strong and on his way over when the sound of glass breaking came from the living room. Cheney was gone in a flash. I dropped Stewie, and he bolted in the opposite direction. I ran into the living room to see what was going on.

  Two men with black hair and all black clothing stood in front of Cheney.

  “We’re not here for you,” one of the men said.

  “Where is she?” growled the other.

  My eyebrows pulled together. Did they not see me? Must have been distracted by Cheney…

  “Even if I knew, I wouldn’t let you lot have her.” Menace and the promise of pain to anyone who dared cross him saturated Cheney’s voice. The men lunged at Cheney as he pulled a small curved sword from the air. A few quick slashes and turns later, both men were on the ground, vital pieces spread all over the carpet. One by one the pieces evaporated.

  I had been a witch long enough to hear the rumors about the Abyss. Stories circulated that the creatures who made up our fairy tales and nightmares lived there, but I never believed it. I was woefully unprepared for them to be in my grandmother’s house, and my brain struggled for a more practical explanation. I met Cheney’s annoyed expression when I looked up.

  “Do you see why you need to stop playing games and listen?”

  “I’m not playing any games—”

  “Like hell you aren’t. It has to stop, Selene.” He charged me, his face inches from mine.

  “What sort of ‘game’ do you think I’m playing? I don’t know why you’re here, who you are, or what I could possibly have to do with any of this. Perhaps if you’d stop trying to scare me and tell me what you want, we could get somewhere.”

  “Bullshit. I don’t know why I even bother.” He turned away and paced, tossing an occasional glance in my direction.

  “God damn it, who are you? What are you doing here? Who were those men? How do you disappear and appear wherever you like? And what do you want with me?” Years of pent up anger suddenly raged through me. I clenched my fists at my side to keep from attacking him.

  He frowned. “I’m Cheney.”

  “Yes, you’ve told me that, but you act like I know you. I’ve never met you. Aren’t you listening to me at all?”

  “You most certainly do know me.”

  “I’ve never seen you before in my life!” With this final shout, the wall to the left of Hunt cracked from floor to ceiling, and a tremor ran through the floor. Oh shit. I let myself get too worked up. The last time this happened was the night my parents died. I closed my eyes, trying to stop the energy coursing from my body. The sounds of glass shattering around me only set me more on edge. I couldn’t lose control, not again. My head throbbed with energy, power.

  “Look at me,” Cheney commanded softly.

  I opened my eyes and met his. “Give me your hand,” he said in the same gentle tone.

  The room was shaking, things were flying off the shelves, and everything made of glass had shattered. My head continued to pulse. I put my shaking hand into Hunt’s and sparks crackled the air where our skin met. The next instant I stood on the beach.

  “Ground your energy, Selene.” Cheney’s voice was calm and patient as if he’d done this a thousand times.

  I looked at him, not knowing what he was talking about.

  “Touch the ground. Send your energy into the sand.”

  I did as he told me, and my vision went dark. Then there was nothing.

  ***

  I opened my eyes and I was lying in my bed, the moon shining peacefully into my room and Stewie curled into a ball on the pillow next to me. Thank God it was all a dream. I sat up, stretching my arms. What a weird—

  My relief stuttered to an abrupt halt.

  Cheney, all long, lean muscle and noble bone structure, leaned against the doorframe watching me. He wasn’t just handsome. In an unkempt, wild sort of way, he oozed sex appeal. His eyes darkened with interest when I looked at him.

  No, it wasn’t just a dream. Not just a dream at all.

  He came toward me like he was approaching a feral animal, doing everything in his power to appear non-threatening, which was impossible since every ounce of his being screamed hunter—just like his name. “Do you know where you are?” he asked.

  “In my room.”

  He nodded and sat on the edge of my bed. There was so much going on under the surface of his eyes, I couldn’t guess at what he was thinking. “You really don’t know me, do you?”

  I shook my head, positive I’d never met him. He wasn’t someone I was likely to have forgotten. Again he was too close to me, and it was hard to breathe.

  “Do you want to?” he asked even softer than before.

  I didn’t think I could speak, let alone answer that question. I continued to stare into his eyes, unblinking and drowning in their seas. Golden flakes I hadn’t noticed before sparkled in the green depths like sunshine playing on waves. The front door slammed. Cheney scowled.

  “Stay here,” he commanded as if I were a soldier. A moment later he disappeared.

  Of course I didn’t stay put. This was my house—well, my grandmother’s anyway—not his. I unwound from the covers and crept to the stairs, careful to avoid all of the squeaky boards.

  “What a pleasant surprise.” A high voice with a faint accent I couldn’t place drifted up to me.

  “Meadow. Bella.” Cheney didn’t sound welcoming, and the two female voices that returned his greeting were equally chilly. “Cheney,” they said in unison.

  “I have killed your scouts,” he continued. “She isn’t here. I’ll give you the opportunity to leave now or you’ll meet an equal fate.”

  “We have our orders.”

  “You can have her over my dead body.”

  “If it must be.”

  “It must.”

  “So be it.”

  “Whenever you’re ready.” I could nearly hear the smile tilting Cheney’s mouth.r />
  “We want to check the house.”

  “No. The house is mine. Look elsewhere.”

  “You have no claim.”

  “And I say I do. If you care to challenge me, Meadow, I’ll happily end this all here and now.”

  There was a long silence. I thought about moving in closer, but common sense stopped me. Cheney was protecting me from these people. The last thing I should do was alert them to my presence.

  “I feel no one else here,” a different female voice stated.

  “Another day, Prince.”

  “So be it,” he spoke in a similarly flat voice. The front door slammed shut, then footsteps behind me made me jump.

  “I told you to stay in your room,” Cheney growled, grabbing my arm with a self-satisfied smile.

  “You did, but I don’t take orders from you.” I yanked my arm away from him, not liking the flush coming to my cheeks. “I thought you couldn’t touch me.”

  “I couldn’t, but you were obliging enough to break the barrier for me.”

  “I—what? How?”

  “You touched me.” He squeezed my hand, and my breath caught in my throat.

  “I most certainly did not.” As soon as the denial was out of my mouth, I remembered taking his hand when I was having my melt down. “You tricked me.”

  “That’s what I do best. It’s open season, princess.” He pressed his nose into my cheek and his lips brushed my face as he spoke, “I can touch you all I want now.”

  My entire being burned from the inside out and my heart clamored loudly in my ears. I laid both hands flat against his chest and turned my head slightly toward him. He leaned in, eyes dancing with anticipation. I pushed him with all the strength I had in my body and mind.

  He rocked back slightly, giving me enough room to dart down a couple steps and put distance between us. “I may have broken whatever barrier existed, but that was not an invitation. You stay away from me!” I ran down the stairs toward the front door, but Cheney materialized in front of me, blocking my escape.

  Chapter 7

  I scrambled backward, tripping on the steps.

  Cheney held his hands up innocently, fingers spread wide. “I’m just teasing you.”