Her defensiveness caught me off-guard. Helene was often a bit precocious, but always respectful and polite. There was an undertone of vitriol to her words and just a hint of a threat. My hackles rose, but I offered her a smile and reached over to pat her knee. “Okay, Helene. I’m not trying to hurt you or anyone else. I promise.”
She took a breath and relaxed, and in turn I did too. Rhiannon was just finishing her chips and handed the plate to Letty as I stood. “Let’s just all forget about that,” she said. “Before we go, why don’t we let the girls give us a tour of the place?”
I nodded in agreement and after a few minutes, we all set off on foot.
Hideaway Land was actually a magic-made island about the size of Alaska. It floated somewhere in the Pacific Ocean in a location that no one was actually sure about. It was masked from human and MAUC sight, and there were rumors that it actually moved around so that no one could pin down its coordinates.
And it was also very lovely. It reminded me of pictures I’d seen of Hawaii with lush green vegetations, beautiful rock outcroppings and palm and coconut trees all around. The girls didn’t live far from the water, and so we only had to hike about a half mile before we could see the gorgeous turquoise waves crashing onto sandy shores.
Besides the beauty of the island itself, it was fairly self-sufficient as well. We went through a little hamlet that offered a few restaurants, a beauty shop, and some stores. Letty fawned over the stylist who had done her nails with a pink and green ombre design.
“And one of the portals is in there. So that we can go back if we need to,” Helene told us, pointing to a little building just past the town.
A sign on the wooden structure read: All those leaving Hideaway Land must do so in proper protective condition. No MAUC features allowed. If you need assistance, press this button.
“What happens if you press the button?” Rhia asked the question I was considering.
“They have some people who can help. Like Letty went back for a family reunion, and they helped me get rid of my horns and hooves so that I could go, too.”
I nodded and smiled. The girls might find this setup all rainbows and unicorns, but I couldn’t help the feeling that eventually, one day, this place would cause trouble.
When Rhiannon finally left later that afternoon, I decided to fix a late lunch/early dinner for me and the pup. I was pretty proud that Patch was so well behaved. She never once begged the entire time Rhia ate her sandwiches and then later her chips. Her eyes told me she would have accepted an offering, but she didn’t demand.
Now she followed me into the kitchen, sitting stoic as I walked to and fro. I tossed some frozen orange chicken into a skillet, then popped a packet of brown rice into the microwave. Rachel Ray I was not.
As I stirred the chicken, I dialed Beck’s number and cradled the phone on my ear. He didn’t answer, so I grudgingly left a message, then got back to cooking. A few minutes later I had a meal not quite fit for a queen, but certainly yummy to me.
Patch didn’t seem to mind the little helping I gave her, either.
The longer it took for Beck to call me back, the edgier I got about it. Which was entirely silly because the man was probably still at work. I finished eating and cleaned up my mess, then I decided to take Patch for a little walk.
We were just returning when my phone started buzzing from my back pocket.
“Hello.”
“Sorry, baby, I was tied up in meetings all afternoon. Everything okay?”
I grinned and switched the phone to the other side while I held the door open for Patch to run inside. She trotted over to her water bowl and lapped wildly while I slipped out of my shoes and headed for the laundry room to take the clothes from the dryer.
“Nothing’s wrong, just checking in to see how your day was going.”
He sighed heavily, and I heard the ding of his vehicle when he put the key into the ignition. “Crazy busy. And I’m running a little late now. Gotta pick up the kids and get dinner so we’ll be ready when Breena gets there.”
“Oh, yeah, training.” I pretended not to remember. “What time will she be there?”
“At 7:00. She said she’d only spend about a half hour the first few weeks or so. Okay, gorgeous, I’d better pay attention to the road. Talk to you tonight?”
“Sure. Love you.”
I didn’t say ‘I love you’ as often as he did. It wasn’t that I didn’t. I loved that man with every fiber of my being. It was that I just wasn’t the lovey-dovey type of girl. Beck didn’t seem to mind my lack of sensitivity. When he hung up, I felt all jittery and antsy. My house was quiet and empty and not nearly as attractive in those moments when I was missing him.
And lately, over the last several months, I missed him more and more. For whatever reason, tonight was worse than usual. I padded to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of wine. It seemed silly to need a glass of wine just because I was missing the boyfriend I had seen less than 24 hours ago. So instead of a glass, I just swigged a huge swallow straight from the bottle.
I sensed more than heard someone behind me, and I turned to see Patch watching, her head cocked to the side as if to say she thought I was behaving badly. My cheeks flamed, and I returned the bottle gently to the fridge door. Sticking out my tongue at her, I grabbed the laundry basket and took it up to my bedroom to fold the clothes and put them away.
After that chore was done and I’d had a little snack of cookies, I moped around the house looking for something to do. Patch dutifully followed me around, never making much of a sound except for the clacking of her nails on the tile floor whenever I entered the kitchen or one of the bathrooms.
“This is pretty stupid, isn’t it?” I finally stopped about halfway up the stairs to my bedroom. When I glanced down she was watching me, anticipating any sudden move I might make. “I’m acting like a teenager, waiting for a boy to call me.”
Patch stretched her head towards me, panting with her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked the time. It was a little after eight. By my estimate, Beck was probably just getting the kids ready for bed after Breena’s visit. Why not pop in to check on them?
I turned on my heel and headed back down the stairs, puppy paws padding behind me. When we entered the grotto, my skin began to itch with anticipation. I wasn’t much on surprises, but I’d heard that spontaneity in a relationship was good, right?
We orbed onto Beck’s front porch, my usual spot. I immediately reached my hand out for the doorknob and stopped cold. Peering into the house through the window, I caught sight of two figures.
Beck was seated on the easy chair beside the sofa and across from him was Breena, her long dark hair flowing down her back. I couldn’t hear their words, but I could see the tender gaze of his eyes as he looked at the other woman. After a moment, he stood and sat beside her, putting his arm around her shoulder.
A choking sound came out of my mouth, and I backed away from the door. With a snap of my fingers, I motioned Patch to me. She yelped in surprise when I snatched her up quickly and used my magic to immediately orb back to the grotto, plopping the pup back onto her feet.
My vision was blurry as I hurried through my shed and to the back door of the house. It took me a minute to realize there were tears in my eyes. That pissed me off. I wiped them away and bit my lip hard, determining not to cry. Patch barely made it into the house before I almost slammed the door shut on her.
The time for wine was long passed. I went to the far cabinet in the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of bourbon, pouring way more than two fingers and swallowing back a big drink. It seared my throat and burned all the way down to the pit of my stomach where bile was already churning.
I was just bringing the glass up for a second drink when I heard him.
“Bad day, Miss Lincoln?”
Prieto’s voice didn’t prevent me from finishing off the contents of the glass. I hesitated a second, then threw the rest of it back. Before tur
ning to look at him, I grabbed another glass from the cabinet and poured up two more portions equal to the one I’d just had.
“Depends on your point of view, Prieto,” I handed him the glass, careful to hold it by the top rim. He took the hint and grabbed it from the bottom so our fingers wouldn’t come close to touching. “How about you? Bad day?”
He didn’t answer my question, but I didn’t really expect him to. I started for the swinging doors of the kitchen and then paused, hoping he wouldn’t run into the back of me. He stopped just short.
“Grab the bottle, will you?” I pushed the doors and breezed through, heading for the living room. I took a more modest sip of my bourbon as I sat in my recliner. Just a few seconds behind me, Prieto found a seat on the couch across from me. He carefully placed the bottle on the coffee table. Leaning back, he closed his eyes as he sniffed and then drank.
“I presume your mentor has told you about the reasons for my interest in you.”
I grunted. “Are you? Interested in me that is?”
When he opened his eyes and glared at me, my body reacted, all the muscles below the waist tightening in a delicious sort of way. I swallowed against the dryness developing in my mouth. A reminder of the vision I’d had of us bounded to the forefront of my mind, and I rubbed my eyes, hoping that would force the thoughts away. When I opened my eyes again, I studied a little crack that I hadn’t previously noticed just above the doorframe. That seemed a fitting distraction until I could try to get my head in order.
“Miss Lincoln, I assure you that toying with me isn’t a wise decision.”
He didn’t have to tell me that. I knew good and well I was treading on thin ice. Danger, Will Robinson. Danger. And this sort of danger was very tempting at that moment.
More bourbon seemed in order. I was at least wise enough to continue sipping instead of chugging. Tendrils of heat unfurled from my stomach, reaching my limbs and making my fingers and toes prickle. I slipped low in my seat and held the glass on my stomach as I considered my words. “Tig said you were considering me for an Enforcer.”
“I note a touch of surprise in there. Don’t you believe you have what it takes to be an Enforcer?”
I found myself intoxicated, watching his mouth as he spoke. He brought his glass to his lips for another drink, then placed it on the coffee table as he crossed his ankle over his knee. The magnetism I’d already been experiencing to him was growing by leaps and bounds.
“Miss Lincoln? Don’t you think you can be an Enforcer?”
Jumping a little at the intrusion of his voice on my wandering thoughts, I waved my hand at him. “Pfft. Of course I can. But what makes you think I want to be one?”
“It isn’t necessarily something any of us aspires to, Miss Lincoln. That is actually something that is looked for in a potential Enforcer. One without grand ambition.”
I squinted. “You don’t talk like everyone else.” The spot just above my nose and between my eyes began to pain me, and I realized I was frowning so hard my brows were almost touching. I rubbed my forehead as I raised my glass.
“I was born in the Province of Huesca. España.” He said the last in his native tongue.
Speaking of tongues. Mine darted out of my mouth to moisten my lips, and I saw his eyes watching the movement. Liquid heat sparked to life between my legs, and I was at once appalled and ashamed. Whatever I had just witnessed at Beck’s house didn’t mean I should immediately hop into another man’s arms.
The mere thought of Beck and Breena sent a slice of pain straight through my chest, and I flinched. After a moment of gritting my teeth, I reached across the coffee table to get the bottle of bourbon so that I could refill my glass. “I wasn’t talking about your accent. It’s the words you use. Formal. Stiff. Old.” As I was setting the bottle back down, Prieto leaned forward and put his hand out as if he might cover mine with his fingers. Instead he hovered there without touching me.
“Something really is wrong tonight, isn’t it?”
I cut my gaze from our hands to his eyes. The grayish-blue gave them a cold, frozen impression, but at the same time, they were alluring, as if something forbidden might be hidden under that icy glare. I swallowed and slowly retracted my arm. “Yes, something is really wrong tonight. My boyfriend was with another woman. Now are you going to tell me what the hell kind of MAUC you are or not?”
He popped back against the couch and inhaled long and slow, then closed his eyes as if pained by something. He put one hand on his knee, gripping hard and the other reached up to rub his stubbled face roughly.
My mind wandered again, and I could almost feel the beard-burn on my cheek, then the soft feather of his lips.
“Seriously!” I cried, standing with a huff. “What is it with you? What are you doing to me?” The liquor was going straight to my head, and I weaved a few seconds before settling my legs in a wide stance. Prieto wasn’t looking at me, but Patch was at attention, her puppy head turning back and forth between both people as if expecting something to happen at any second.
I waited for his response, my breath coming in pants as I held tight to my frustration in the hopes that the intense sexual attraction I was feeling wouldn’t push to the forefront. But it turned out I was waiting for nothing. Quicker than I could react, Prieto was gone, disappearing into a cloud of purple. Patch’s hackles rose, and she barked a few times at the place where he’d been.
My entire body went slack as if someone had cut my strings. I dropped back into the seat and grabbed my glass again. As I lifted it to my lips, I realized I didn’t want anymore. In fact, I so didn’t want it that I chunked it across the room, enjoying the sounds of the broken shards exploding around me. Patch bolted, running to the door where she could keep an eye on me from a safe distance.
A few minutes passed, and I heaved myself up and abandoned the room. The phone in my pocket had been silent. I refused to look at it for the time because I refused to let myself give into the temptation of glancing at it every few minutes in anticipation of Beck’s call. I could still remember Rhiannon doing that when she hadn’t heard from Sandy, and I had vowed to never be ‘that girl.’
I was able to glance through the swinging doors to the microwave in the kitchen. It was nearly ten, and the effect of the alcohol was making me tired. At this point I figured it was better to just crash and worry about everything tomorrow.
“Humph… I might as well be Scarlet O’Hara.”
“Shine and look and see it true. Vision me and vision you. Come to me and speak anew. Granny dear, tell me please what to do.”
After tapping it with my finger, I watched the mirror that had been passed down in my family sizzle and flicker, then the image of my great-great-great-grandmother appeared. She was lovely, as always, her hair coifed ornately atop her head and a gown of what looked to be gold brocade hugging her body.
Dorothea Lincoln tossed a croquet stick over her shoulder and glared at me. “Well, if it isn’t my granddaughter. You look like death warmed over.”
I did a perfect impression of a teenager and rolled my eyes, smacking my lips at her. “Look who’s talking.”
Granny smiled, something she didn’t usually do much of, then she turned her head away from me and spoke to someone in a language I didn’t understand. I could see her hands motioning in a “move along” signal, and I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a gaggle of men vying for her attention. Dead or not, Granny liked to make the most of her afterlife.
“And what can I do for you today? We really do need to work on your magic, but it would be so much easier if you would make an appointment. I have a life you know… in a manner of speaking, of course.”
Over the past six months, we’d been working on my magic. Her goal was to rid me of my wand. My goal was to prove to her I needed it. So far, I was winning. No matter what task she assigned, it was always fouled up when I attempted it without the wand.
“Yes, Granny. And I’m sorry for barging in, but I need some help.” I wasn�
�t usually so apologetic, but I was tired and deflated and a tad desperate. It was more energy than I could muster to be snarky with her. Sleep had been virtually impossible the night before, and morning had come entirely too soon and too brightly. I wasn’t in the mood for sunny. I was in the mood for black skies and thunder. And yet I could see the sliver of golden glow from my bedroom just beyond the closet. It was an absolutely stunning day, meteorologically speaking. I grumbled under my breath.
“I would recommend more sleep, dear. The bags under your eyes area a tell-tell sign that you need rest. Rest is the best way to keep the sort of beauty I possess.” She ran a hand along her cheek and to her neck in a display of that very beauty.
I almost collected the fortitude to snort at her in derision. Instead I rubbed at my sleepy eyes and looked back at her. “I’m thinking of using one of the No Spells.”
“Ahhh.” She nodded, then adjusted her skirts so that she could take a seat. Once situated, she folded her hands in her lap and eyed me like a queen holding court. “I thought you had a lover. Why would you need a love spell?”
Of course she would assume I needed that sort of spell. The No Spells were a series of incantations designed to affect the free will of a person. Most of them had to do with romance or forcing someone to fall in love with you or even out of love with someone else. They were used extensively in the 1700’s, and many times with unintended consequences. It was then that they began to be categorized together and sardonically called ‘The No Spells.’ The name had stuck through the centuries.
“Actually, it’s the truth spell I’m considering.”
“Ahhh.” She repeated the word and fiddled with the hem of her skirt a moment. When she looked up, her eyes widened and she stuck her nose close to the mirror,“Is that a dog?”
I nodded without looking over my shoulder. I could hear Patch making little sounds behind me.
“I do believe that little flea bag is eating one of your shoes.”
A Bundle of Trouble (The Lynlee Lincoln Sets Book 1) Page 25