by Tawny Weber
Anja cringed.
“Giving someone courage to face what they want isn’t averting free will, though,” Anja argued, irritated to hear the justification in her tone.
“You honor your heritage, Anja. You know the rules, black and white. But you haven’t yet learned the subtleties of gray.”
There was a gentle chiding in Odette’s arched brow, more effective on Anja than hours of Natalia’s lectures.
Especially when that simple look was quickly followed by Odette turning her back on her granddaughter to cross to the stove.
“Gray isn’t black,” Anja said with a stubborn jut of her chin, stirring the preserves into the fruit with enough aggression to send a few peach slices across the table. Grinding her teeth and glad her grandmother wasn’t looking, she scooped the pieces into the trash. “It might not be pure, but it’s not manipulation. It’s not a removal of choice.”
“Would you want your mother giving you a magical push to find your own true love? You get to choose him, of course,” Odette offered, her tone absent as she checked the kettle of bean and barley soup. She sipped, held the soup on her tongue like a wine connoisseur might test for bouquet, then tossed in a pinch of this and a shake of that before setting the spoon in the sink.
It wasn’t until she’d crossed the room to the three-dozen crusts and leftover dough that she met her granddaughter’s frustrated eyes.
“Shades of gray,” she said. “It’s not forbidden. It’s not even a bad place to work, Anja. But it does demand a very clear purpose, a strong awareness of the possibilities. And, of course, a ready acceptance of the threefold return.”
Anja didn’t need to reminded that the threefold law—that all things sent out returned times three, a witch’s take on Karma—meant the repercussions of playing in the gray would fall on her. Not on Bianca, or Jacob, or anyone else. Even though Bianca had requested it, Anja had cast the spell. She’d called down the energy and infused that turnover. Whatever price Bianca paid, be it good or ill, Anja would pay triple.
Worth it if Bianca found happiness. And, Anja realized with a sigh as her shoulders sagged, she’d not only deserve anything harmful that came her way, she’d willingly take on the undesirable results so Bianca didn’t have to.
But magic didn’t work that way.
Casting the spell didn’t mean she got to pick and choose who was dealt the results. Only that results would ensue.
Her stomach churning, worry a tight throbbing in her temples, she crossed to her grandmother and held out her hands.
“The storm was coming, one way or another,” she said quietly. “I didn’t bring it. I simply gave, I hope, the strength to face it.”
“Shades of gray,” Odette said quietly, taking Anja’s hands in her own. The older woman’s fingers looked frail. Wrinkled and spotted with age, they should be fragile. But they gripped Anja’s with the strength and power of the Crone. The Wise Woman.
“You made your choice, when you stirred up magic for Bianca,” Odette said quietly. “She made hers when she turned to you for help. And he, of course, made his when he sought her here. Now you’ll all deal with the results.”
Anja didn’t how her grandmother knew.
She wasn’t even surprised.
She slid a glance toward the ceiling, wondering what was going on up there. But her gift was magic, not sight.
So all she could do was hope. Hope like crazy that her spell had been a blessing for Bianca. For Jacob.
And not a curse that was going to come back and kick them all in the ass.
Chapter Nine
Bianca stood outside the Karma Café, glaring over the candy-striped awning at the apartment windows above. Her stomach clenched even tighter than the fists at her sides and she took three deep breaths.
She had to go in. She didn’t have a choice.
She wasn’t a wimp, dammit.
She took one more deep breath, and ignoring the knots in her belly, she pushed the door open.
A quick scan showed the café’s post-breakfast, pre-lunch lull. Perfect timing.
She could do this. She’d seduced the hell out of a very sexy man just one day ago. She could do anything she set her mind to. She pressed her hand against her stomach. Yep, anything. Although she might have to throw up first.
A flash of color in the corner caught her eye. Aha. Her feet almost flew over the hardwood as she crossed the room.
“I have to talk to you. Now. Please.”
Anja’s eyes widened and she gave the tiniest wince as she took in the frantic look on Bianca’s face. Before she could protest, or make an excuse, Bianca laid a pleading hand on her arm.
“Please,” she repeated. “It’s important.”
After a quick look toward the kitchen, Anja let out a breath, set her tray of dirty dishes on the table and nodded.
“Of course. Do we need to go upstairs?”
God, no. Bianca rubbed her hands on her arms to try and avoid shuddering. Not letting herself even look toward the staircase, she refused to consider the temptation on the second floor.
“Here is okay, if you don’t mind.”
After another glance toward the kitchen, Anja gestured to the table she’d just cleaned.
“I need to ask you a question,” Bianca said as soon as she took her seat.
“I need to apologize,” Anja said at the same time. “What?”
“Why would you need to apologize?”
Anja grimaced, then shook her head so the long curls slid over her shoulder.
“Question first. What do you need to ask me?”
Bianca frowned at her fingers, all knotted together, then met Anja’s eyes with a pleading look.
“Yesterday. What you made, you created. That spell...”
Anja closed her eyes, looked like she was saying a little prayer, then with a deep sigh took Bianca’s hands.
“Did you find yourself doing things you didn’t want to?”
“No,” Bianca exclaimed. “Oh, no. I did everything I wanted. Every single thing. And a couple of them twice.”
“You’re happy about that?”
“Happy to have finally had the courage to do what I wanted? Of course.” Bianca looked at the woman across from her, not sure if Anja could understand. She doubted that the raven-haired beauty had ever had a single doubt in her life. At least, not one she couldn’t quickly dismiss.
But Bianca had spent the last eight years buried in them. Drowning in them, even.
“Of course?”
“Of course,” Bianca repeated. “Without your help, your magical nudge, I would never have faced my fears. I wouldn’t have seduced Jacob.”
Anja’s lips twitched. “Seduced, hmm?”
“I made him whimper,” Bianca said with a delighted grin.
“I’m confused then,” Anja confessed, pushing her hand through her heavy curls. “If you’re so pleased with the results, what did you need to talk to me about?”
Bianca’s stomach, only seconds ago soothed with the memories of really awesome sex, clenched again.
“Your apple turnover gave me courage. I could feel the changes, as if all the walls I’d built up were blasted away.” She wet her lips, glanced toward the stairs, then stiffened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “But Jacob tasted it, too. I gave him a bite. I used him, Anja.”
“No.” Anja shook her head. “No, no, no. You’ve already defined the spell. It broke down the walls that you’d hidden behind. It wasn’t an aphrodisiac, it gave you no sexual powers that you don’t already possess.”
Bianca wanted to believe that. Oh, she wanted to so much.
“It didn’t make him want to have sex with me?”
“It wouldn’t even have made him admit his desires, let alone act on them. Unless he was afraid, of course.”
Bianca blinked a couple of times, processing that.
She’d hoped that was the case.
She’d gone home, furious, and told her sisters everything.
Well, e
verything except Anja’s part in the scenario.
They’d fussed. They’d worried. They’d yelled and warned and scolded. And then, almost as one, they’d asked her what she wanted.
She hadn’t been able to answer them.
Not until she’d asked Anja.
Not until she’d found out if Jacob had been under a spell.
Now she knew.
Her eyes drifted to the stairs again, the knots in her stomach still there, but looser. Easier.
“You warned me that change was coming,” Bianca said quietly. “You didn’t mean Jacob.”
“It can be, if you want. It can be just Jacob.” Anja’s own glance drifted, too, hers toward the kitchen. She released Bianca’s hands, folding her own neatly on the table in front of her as if keeping them still.
“The choice is yours, Bianca. It’s always been yours.”
#
Jacob frowned at the duffle bag on the bed, then at the tidily folded jeans in his hand.
Just pack, dammit.
But once he was finished packing, he’d have no excuses left for not heading to the airport.
The airport meant toing home.
Alone.
Since he’d come here a week ago with the intention of heading home with Bianca in tow, ready to kick Lynn’s greedy ass. Going alone meant he’d failed. He couldn’t out Bianca, so Lynn would be free to declare her dead.
He hated failure.
Jacob threw the jeans into the bag with a growl and stormed to the window to glare at twilight falling over the Golden Gate. Shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, he suck in breath through his teeth and tried to get past the anger.
At the situation.
At Bianca.
But most of all, at himself.
What in the hell had he been thinking? Coming all the way across the country, trying to push some sweet, sexy, adorably smart...
Jacob shook his head, trying to dislodge the image of Bianca from his brain. What had he been thinking about?
Oh yeah.
His stupid mistake. Trying to manipulate Bianca into facing a past she had every reason to run from. Pushing her, tricking her.
God, he was an ass.
He didn’t want to leave. He hated the way things were between them, hated that he’d found the most amazing woman ever. Clever, talented and funny. One who made him think of tomorrows, wish he could sit and talk—just talk—for hours, then sweep her into his arms and carry her off and make all of her sexual fantasies come true. He wanted to protect her. To get to know her dreams, to hear her likes, dislikes and favorite color.
Even without any of that, he was crazy about her.
And instead of having a shot at making any of that happen, he’d blown it.
Yep. He was an ass.
His cellphone buzzed, putting his pity-party on hold.
He didn’t want to talk to anyone.
Except Bianca, of course.
Not that she’d be calling. She’d made her intention pretty clear when she’d stormed out.
But his thoughts were irritating enough to make him cross the room and grab his phone off the bed.
Glancing at the readout, his eyes chilled. It wasn’t the angel he’d hoped to hear from. But speak of the devil...
An icy smile playing over his lips, he pushed talk.
“Lynn.”
“You’re going to pay, Carlisle. I’m going to ruin you, I’m going to bankrupt you. And then I’m going to destroy your reputation.”
“Always great to hear from you, Lynn,” he said, smirking. He had no idea what she screaming about, but it was nice to know someone else’s day sucked, too.
“You did this. I know you did.”
“Okay,” he said agreeably, more than glad to take the blame for anything that pissed her off so much that she was stuttering. He might have to be polite, after all she was the firm’s client until the final disbursement in ten months. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. “Why don’t you fill me in on what I did.”
That way he could celebrate.
Quietly.
All by himself.
He glanced at the bed, his head filled with images of Bianca there, naked. Sweet and sexy, her laughter filling the room with brightness.
Damn it.
“Are you listening to me?” Lynn demanded.
“Sure. You were saying that someone had to pay and that you’d be damned if you’d be robbed like this,” he said, deliberately turning his back on the bed. He strode through the bedroom door into the small, wildly colored living room, and stopped short.
“Bianca,” he murmured.
“Damned right, Bianca. Who the hell is this woman claiming to be her? You’d damned well better stop her. There is no way this is my late, lamentable stepdaughter. No way in hell,” Lynn claimed at the top of her lungs.
Something clicked in his head, chiming out a warning. But Jacob ignored it. The yelling didn’t even faze him. Possibly because he’d dropped the phone to his side, too stunned to care that one of the firm’s wealthiest and most influential clients was now cussing out his name and threatening lawsuits.
“Bianca,” he repeated, staring at the woman in front of him.
“Hi,” Bianca said, her smile a little shaky. But her hands were steady as she swept her hair back behind her ear and her eyes clear as she gave him a bright-eyed look of curiosity. “Am I interrupting?”
“No,” he decided, hitting the off button before tossing his phone onto the counter. “Nothing important.”
“Are you still in town for long?” she asked, looking like she’d turn right around and run out the door if he said yes. Or no.
Figuring this time he’d chase her, Jacob shrugged.
“I’ve got a flight out tonight. I can stay, though.”
She searched his face as if looking for a secret message. Apparently finding whatever she needed, she stepped further into the room.
Jacob let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“Why would you stay? To convince me to do what you want?” Before he could answer, she tilted her head to one side and said, “You never actually told me what you want, exactly. Why don’t you tell me now?”
Her.
Crazy, Jacob thought, shoving his hand through his hair. He’d known her a few days, had sex with her a few times. That wasn’t enough time to justify how strong he felt, how much he wanted her.
But he didn’t figure that’s what she wanted to hear. Didn’t think she’d believe him if he tried. So he went with the other truth. The reason he’d come to San Francisco in the first place. A reason that was no longer valid, not if he wanted Bianca safe. And he did, more than anything else.
The warning bell, the one that’d been drowned out by the sight of Bianca, suddenly clanged again, loud and clear.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
It was all Jacob could do not to beat his fists on the wall. He felt like he was giving up a chance at the best relationship he’d ever have. But he didn’t have a choice. Bianca’s happiness, her safety, was the only thing that mattered.
“Lynn knows you’re alive. I don’t know if she realizes where you are, but she knows I’ve contacted you,” he warned quietly. “I’ll help you hide again. Whatever you want. I don’t even have to know where you go, if that makes it better.”
“Better?”
Bianca bit her lip, wondering what better meant. For a tiny second, she wanted to throw herself into his arms and say yes, please, hide with me.
But she couldn’t.
As wonderful as it would be to run off with Jacob, to hide away from all the coming ugliness, she couldn’t do it. Well, she could. But, she stiffened her spine, she didn’t want to. Not anymore.
Choices, Anja had said.
Bianca swallowed hard to free her voice from the tight knot in her throat, then she took another step into the room.
“Why did you come here?” she asked, needing to know before
she told him anything.
“To find you.”
She wanted to melt, not only at the sweet words, but the look on his face. A combination of masculine discomfort, boyish hopefulness and a sexy intensity that made her want to jump his gorgeous body.
“Why?” she asked again, setting her chin and planting her feet to keep herself from leaping on him. She wanted so much. Him, her future, him, to reclaim her past, to stop being afraid of standing up and taking what she wanted. Which, brought her back to him.
The only way she could have any of that—maybe even all of that—was to stand her ground. It’d been so long since she’d tried, but it was time.
“I told you the other day, I came here to find you. To convince you to claim your inheritance.” Frustration and doubt were clear in his tone, and on his face. “Lynn is having you declared dead. That isn’t right. If you don’t want to face her, I’ll handle everything. I’ll try to hide your location, route the paperwork through another state. Whatever you want.”
There it was again. Temptation.
But the urge to avoid confrontation wasn’t as strong as her desire to—finally—control her own life again.
“It wouldn’t matter,” Bianca said, waving her hand. “Whatever you did, however you tried to hide my location, she’d find me. She’ll expect me to run again and she’ll be prepared this time. The only thing that matters more to Lynn than money is winning.”
He grimaced, but before he could start offering more of those tempting suggestions, Bianca shook her head.
“The only choice is for me to go back to Boston with you. To face Lynn, to claim my inheritance, and to reclaim my life.”
If she’d sprinted across the room and kicked him in the balls, Bianca was pretty sure Jacob couldn’t have looked more stunned.
“You’re...” He shook his head. “Somehow you let her know you’re alive. Is that how she found out?”
“I contacted your office and let them know that I wasn’t dead yet.” She swallowed hard as she remembered the terror of that phone call. “ I also asked them to inform Lynn that I’d be conducting a full audit of my father’s estate. And taking what was mine.”