Playing the Witch's Game (Keepers of the Veil)

by Zoe Forward

  Her heart nearly stopped. Air wouldn’t move through her lungs. Yeah, she wanted that.

  He shifted to put some space between her body and his crotch. “We should establish our background story. We skipped that.”

  An emaciated redhead yelled in a bored monotone, “Nick Adams and Jennifer Marcos.”

  “Maybe later,” she whispered back at him.

  They followed the waif down a stark hallway that reminded her of a grade school with its linoleum floors and fluorescent overheads. The woman visually scanned the two of them and then grabbed two outfits off a temporary clothes rack. “The suits are new. Just so you know. No ickiness to worry about. Change into these in there.” She pointed to an open doorway of a closet-sized carpeted room. “Then exit out the other side. They’ll be ready for you.”

  Jen accepted the two suits and glanced into the changing room. “Is there a girls’ and a boys’ room?”

  The leggy redhead shot her a glare.

  “Come on, Angel. It’s not like we haven’t seen it before,” he lied smoothly. In a soothing tone, he asked the redhead, “What are we to expect on the other side of that door?”

  The redhead’s face glazed to moony. She swung her hips in a flirty move that jutted out her small breasts. “There are a few interviewers and camera people. They want to make sure you look good in those outfits and on-screen. They’ll ask a few questions.”

  “Have they picked anyone yet?” he asked.

  “They’re waiting for you two, it seems.”

  “Thank you.” He winked at the redhead, who blushed. After ogling Nikolai’s chest, she communicated an open sexual invite to him.

  Her fake boyfriend was hitting on this waif right in front of her? Jen grabbed Nikolai’s hand and yanked him into the changing room. “What was that?” she demanded. “Did you do some sort of magical mojo on her? And then did you actually proposition her in front of me?”

  He chuckled. “I do believe Brunette Barbie is jealous.”

  “Call me that once more and I’ll knee you in the balls. Then we’ll see who’s calling who Barbie.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her against the wall. “I like this feisty side to you.”

  “Is that for me or for the swizzle stick?” She bumped her pelvis into his erection, eliciting a grunt from him.

  He grinned. “She wasn’t my type. I go for gutsy little Barbies with a few curves.”

  “No one’s watching. You don’t need to act like you’re into me here.”

  He rotated his pelvis. “Angel, I can’t fake this. I’ve always been into you. Just like you’re into me.”

  Startled by her body’s surge of oh yeah, she threw sarcasm his way. “You are so full of yourself. Be honest with me. Did you do something out there to her?”

  He stared at her lips for several silent seconds as if waging an internal debate.

  Do it, she pleaded silently. Kiss me.

  Finally, he said, “We’ve all got skills. Let’s change.” He stepped away from her.

  “Maybe we need to review your skill set before we do this thing.” She put her hands on her hips, readying for a new argument.

  He pulled off his shirt. She gaped at the gorgeous expanse of lightly haired, tanned skin pulled taut over muscles. Her fingers itched to trace those hard contours. He cocked an eyebrow and dropped his pants. Her moment of panic gave way to relief when she realized he wasn’t commando. He wore an ultra-sexy pair of black boxer briefs, which did little to hide how turned on he was.

  He chuckled. “Find anything that interests you down there?”

  Could her face get any hotter?

  He subjected her to a slow downward perusal of her body. “You better hurry up and change or I might be inclined to keep our clothes off.”

  She threw his bathing suit at him. “No looking.” She whirled away from him.

  “Oh, I’ll be looking. Lots,” he murmured.

  She tried to make sense of the two pieces of cloth that must be a swimsuit. She peeled off her pants and underwear and shimmied into the bottoms.

  “Is that a Celtic tattoo on your ass?” he asked.

  Her head whipped around to find him staring at her butt.

  He leaned closer to her and squinted. “Or is it a tribal tat?”

  “Shut up.” She yanked up the bottoms to cover her drunk sorority dare ink, not that the bikini covered much. Thank God she’d waxed this week.

  Seconds later a woman stuck her head in. “You two ready? We’ve been waiting, like, forever.”

  Jen yanked down the bathing suit bandanna top.

  Nikolai grabbed her hand.

  She adjusted and squirmed to get the suit right as he pulled her outside, barely having time to get her chest properly aligned before they were out the door. After one look at his suit she completely forgot they were no longer in the changing room. She blurted out, “They gave you board shorts that go almost to your knees and I get this?” She plucked at the skimpy two-piece. “An eye patch and a bandanna?”

  “Obviously the nice lady underestimated your assets.” He leered at her C’s that were one breath away from a complete spill out of the A-sized bandanna top. “I guess we’re headed somewhere tropical.” He flashed an annoying smile. “I would be glued to the TV every day if you wore that. Hell, I’ll probably have a hard time walking the entire time we’re doing this show if you’re wearing that thing. You’re like Tropical Bar—”

  She pointed a finger at him. “Don’t you dare say it. If you utter it, I’m so far beyond kneeing. Now I’ll fist your nuts in a wad so tight that you’ll squeal like a choirboy for the rest of your life.” She plucked at the top again. “If I bend down I’ll flash the entire world.”

  He said hoarsely, “I’ll be right there along with the rest of America holding my breath to see it.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She stiffened. He murmured, “They’re watching. So buck up and deal.”

  She gripped his strong arms and leaned into him. When his tongue touched the seam of her lips, her mouth opened on its own. Then there was nothing other than the two of them. And the relief of his mouth finally on hers. He deepened the kiss. She crossed the line from acting into enjoying the kiss when his tongue tangled with hers. This man could teach a master class on kissing.

  A solitary person’s clapping broke them apart. Jen’s face warmed when she took in her stunned audience of twelve or so. She snapped upright, pulling every bit of humiliation and outrage into focus. “Who’s in charge here?”

  An older male with white hair cleared his throat from where he sat at one of the tables in the back. “I’m Rick Holloway. Producer.”

  She pointed at him. “I understand most of the women you want on TV have starved away their boobs, but if you want a real woman on your show…” She gestured at her chest. “Then you’re going to have to provide her with a lot better wardrobe than this, especially if you expect her to be as active as this show requires.”

  “We don’t have to give you clothes at all,” Rick said.

  She bit back a smart-ass remark. Be nice. “I assume you want to plan to market items from the show. Swimsuits would work well, but you better make sure they look good on their models. This”—she waved at what she was wearing—“is disgraceful at best. I can’t think of a single normal-sized woman who’d want to squeeze into this. You do know the rest of the world isn’t a size zero?”

  Nikolai smothered a laugh beside her.

  She elbowed his rib cage.

  “Ow,” he complained. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

  She pointed at Nikolai. “I am not Brunette Barbie.”

  He shook his head and laughed loudly, wiping at the corner of his eyes. “I didn’t say it. You did. Come here.” He drew her into his arms.

  She was so flustered and mortified that she hid her head against his chest.

  He murmured low to her, “Are we done with this now? No more of this show idea? Because I guarantee this is but th
e tip of the iceberg on the humiliation scale. ”

  She nodded. “I’ve had enough.”

  “Oh no you don’t,” said a tall blond woman. “I like you guys.”

  “Of course you do,” muttered Nikolai. “This couldn’t be that easy to walk away from.” He rolled Jen out of his arms to his side, but kept an arm around her waist.

  The blond appraised him like he was an insect she’d love to stick a giant pin into and shove onto a bug board. “You’re pleasing to look at. Any female between thirteen and ninety would want to see you naked.” She then turned on Jen. “You’re spunky and cute. The other contestants will eat you alive. I don’t see you guys making it to the group meeting on day one, but it’ll be fun to watch you go down.”

  Jen bristled and stepped away from Nikolai. He grabbed her hand and squeezed tight as if to warn her to behave. Why did no one think she could handle this?

  The blond tapped her lips, then sauntered back to the producer. “They’ll be the underdogs. People will love them. Pretty, but long shots. Again, I don’t think they’ll make it beyond half of day one.”

  “Owen said they’d be perfect.” The producer’s gaze conveyed reluctance.

  Nikolai whispered to her, “I’ve got a bad vibe on this Owen guy, and I haven’t even met him.”

  “You’re just—” Jen didn’t finish the thought when he glared warning. She turned to smile at their spectators.

  The blond flipped a page on her clipboard. “Nick, I get why you’d want to be on the show. Probably good for business, and it’s about proving you can do it or whatever.” Her gaze shot up to him, bored.

  “I don’t need more business. I’ve got far more than I can handle. Word of mouth is all it takes for me. This is all about her. She wants to do this.”

  She elbowed him in the side again.

  “Hey, Angel. Just being honest here. I don’t need to prove the size of my balls by doing some TV show.”

  The blond chuckled. “So, Jennifer, why do you want to do this show?”

  “I want to win.” She didn’t break eye contact with the blond.

  The blond gave a hesitant nod. “All right. What training or skills do you have to make you think you can survive? You’re an….” She flipped pages on her clipboard. “Events coordinator?” The blond granted her a skeptical once-over. “No offense, but do you have any sort of sports background or training or do survival things on the weekends?”

  “That’s not necessary. Season one’s runner-up wasn’t an exercise fanatic or a member of any sort of elite army-type group,” Jen said.

  “That guy was a serious survivalist. The man lived in the wilderness for years. In fact no one has heard from him since the show ended. He just disappeared back to whatever hole he came from.”

  “Maybe I’m really good at that, too,” Jen said.

  Nikolai snorted a laugh beside her. “I’m pretty sure you don’t even own hiking boots.”

  “How would you know?” she snapped.

  “I’ve been in your closets a hundred times and never saw a pair.” He squeezed her arm hard enough to snap her out of her outrage.

  Stay in character. “I’m good at field remedies.” She glared up at him.

  He nodded, serious. “She is that.” He lifted his arm and pointed to a scar. “Got shot on the job a year ago, actually while protecting her. That’s how we met. I didn’t even need to go to the hospital. She’s…her hobby is understanding natural remedies. She patched me up and it healed faster than any other injury I had treated by a doctor.”

  She smiled, grateful that he’d spun a plausible meeting story and provided her with a skill. That might make it okay for her to use some magic on the show. Covertly, of course.

  His gaze sparkled with humor. “You were amazing.”

  Her face scorched.

  The blond cocked an eyebrow at Rick. Jen detected the subtle vibrations of magical energy from the producer. She squinted to make out details. He reminded her of an in-shape Santa without the facial hair. Evil Santa. She dismissed her gut reaction as ridiculous. The producer nodded.

  The blond announced, “Great. We’d like you on the show.” She glanced at a smartphone. “We start filming in twenty-one hours. That means we need to get you outfitted, prepped, and on your way down there. We need you on the airplane in the next hour or so.”

  “What?” Nikolai sucked in his breath. “That’s fast.”

  “Do we have time to go home and pack?” Jen asked.

  The blond shook her head. “You aren’t allowed any personal items on the show anyway.”

  Rick said in a scratchy, low voice, “Before you two agree, understand this won’t be a spring break beach party. The other couples were chosen two months ago. They’ve been training, although they had no more knowledge of what they’re headed into than you do right now. They’ve had prep already and are on their way to the location. This situation is less than ideal, but one of our contestants had an unfortunate accident a few days ago and broke her leg. You’ll be the last to arrive, and at a severe disadvantage. I must agree with my assistant. I don’t think you two will make it to the group meeting on day one. I would prefer not to have our first-ever death on the first day of filming. If you accept to go, I need both of you to be certain. This is going to be a challenging season.”

  Worry etched Nikolai’s features. “If you’ll excuse us, we need a moment.” He grabbed her arm and returned to the dressing room, shutting the door behind him. “This is not enough time for us to get our game together or get a safety net in place. I don’t like this. At all. The shit they did on the other seasons, and if this is worse…I’m not really feeling good about this.”

  She stroked the necklace. “We can do this.”

  “You sure that’s you talking? I don’t remember that necklace from last year. It’s giving off a weird vibe. Where’d you get it?”

  A vision of Owen flashed in her brain. “Please.”

  “I’m upping my price because I’m getting a really bad feeling. Something is pushing you into this, maybe even bad magic. I think we should stop now.”

  “I don’t detect anything.”

  He crossed his arms. “I don’t want to do this. I vote no.”

  “You owe me.”

  “We’ve already covered this ground. I don’t give a crap about the fact that I stole something from you.”

  “I’ll curse you.” She could. No problem.

  He paled. “Don’t toss around that kind of threat.”

  “Spells, hexes, potions…they all come easy to me. If you don’t do this, I’ll be pissed enough to do it. You not only stole from me, but also you now plan to destroy my life by removing my chance at happiness with my destined guy. The last guy I cursed is still wishing he hadn’t cheated on his bio exam by copying my answers during freshman year in college. He has to tell the truth, no matter what.” She crossed her arms and glared.

  His eyes darted around as if he was thinking. “Damn it, why can’t you be reasonable?” His gaze zeroed in on the necklace. “Don’t you understand the dangers here? This is not simply about winning or losing. This is about surviving without losing a limb or dying. Aside from the show, I know there’s something after you. My visions are always right. Whatever is coming your way might take advantage of your vulnerability on the show. To me it sounds like that guy in charge thinks someone might die this season. Are you ready for that to be you?”

  “We won’t die. I’ve got you to protect me.” Unease skittered through her mind and then gave way to absolute certainty on the rightness of doing this.

  “As flattered as I am that you think I can keep you safe, you don’t even know my skills.” He leaned in closer. “They do not extend to wilderness survival.” Then he backed away and stared at a cabinet as if he wanted to punch it.

  “I want to do this,” she said.

  He retrieved his phone out of his discarded pants, scanned an incoming text, and sent a fast reply. He replaced the phone and then blew out
a sigh.

  She gripped his arm. “Please help me.”

  He gazed down at her for a few silent seconds. “Are you sure you didn’t cast a spell on me or something? Everything about this is a bad idea. The irresponsibility of both of us doing this goes against good judgment. Yet for some reason I can’t say no to you. Damn it, Jen. If you did do something, rescind it. Let us make this decision without magic.”

  She shook her head. That summoning spell shouldn’t extend this far. Or would it? “My magic doesn’t work that well on you for some reason.”

  His face scrunched up into a squinty-eyed yeah right. “It worked well enough for you to get the truth of my occupation last year.”

  Her face flamed hot. She shrugged an apology. “Sorry. You weren’t at one hundred percent. I didn’t know what the heck you were and needed to know. Potions always work better than my spells.”

  “I guess we should be glad the government didn’t recruit you. You’d make one hell of an interrogator.” He rolled his eyes heavenward. “Fine. We’ll do this craziness. But if one of us gets hurt, we’re quitting. If I feel like your life is endangered whether it’s from some ridiculous shit they throw our way or whatever else is going to target you, then we quit.”

  “Is that the new caveat on your fee?”

  “No. I’m asking for two nights. Actually make it a whole weekend that includes a Friday. And we’ll go somewhere with a beach where clothes are optional. We’ll need it after however many days we’re trapped in rural wilderness hell. I hate the jungle. I hope they send us to the desert or Antarctica, just not a jungle.” His gaze communicated he expected her to back out. He actually looked hopeful.

  A whole weekend? She swallowed. “Agreed. But, what if I’m not…I mean, what if it’s not very good between us?” She shifted on her feet and couldn’t meet his gaze. “The last guy I was with wasn’t exactly complimentary. He said I was frigid.” She darted a quick glance his way. “What if it sucks? Then you’ll be stuck with me for three days.”

  He scanned down her slowly, pausing at her compressed, spilling-over breasts. “Frigid? I think we already proved you’re not when I touched you last night. It’ll be good. I promise.”