I moved to the shower, fully intending to hand him the clothing, but I paused to watch him as he pet Luna. I shut the door as far as it would go, but it wouldn’t fully shut because of the bad hinges. I made a mental note to stop by the hardware store in the morning and see if they had a set to replace them with.
I undressed and slipped into the shower, turning the water on and enjoying the feel of being clean again as it washed away the hours spent in the garden. Mom and Kendra hadn’t made it home yet, which worried me with the ferocity of the storm that had come out of nowhere. They were in the Jeep, so luckily would be safe on a stormy road.
Seemed kind of screwed up that I just got home and they’d ditched me to go and do whatever. I felt eyes on me as the soap washed over my body, I turned in the shower finding nothing but shadows as the lights continued to flicker, until they fizzed and went out.
Great! As if this evening couldn’t get any worse? I whispered a spell for the candles that were lined around the room to light. I could still feel the eyes upon me, and yet I couldn’t see much past the shadows of the room.
I finished washing and exited the tub, making sure to turn the handles all the way until the water ceased to drip. I looked out the door, finding no one there, and then out the window. Weird. I dried off quickly and got dressed, then headed into the front room to find it empty. I continued to the kitchen where I found a very muddy man lighting the old cook stove. It wasn’t fancy, but it was old and beautifully redone with love.
I’d helped my grandfather redo the rusted cast iron finish and clean it up to surprise my grandmother for her birthday the year before he’d died. I loved what it stood for: A love that even in their golden years had been full and as pure as the day they’d fallen in love with each other.
“This thing’s an antique,” he stated and I startled, yanking my mind back from where it had gone to.
“My grandfather fixed it up for my grandmother,” I admitted. “She loved it. I love it; it’s old, but it’s beautiful and works just fine. Plus, it’s pretty handy during a blackout.”
I sat at the table, observing every sinewy muscle that worked beneath his shirt as he loaded it with wood and set fire to it. I could make out the runes that were tattooed all over his arms; they were old and no matter how much time I spent looking at them, I wasn’t sure I could place what they stood for, or meant. Some looked like death runes, which was almost a forgotten practice. Others were even stranger; men with hands covering their eyes and women with hands covering their mouths, as if he had secrets he didn’t want others to see or speak of.
I was lost in the wonderland that was his body when he turned and caught me ogling it. I smiled guiltily as a blush spread across my face. “I set clothes in the bathroom for you. The hot water handle sticks; you’ll need to muscle it to get it on and off. I’ll make some tea while you get clean.”
“Thanks,” he said as he pulled off his shirt before I could object. My traitorous eyes moved over his flesh hungrily. As if I was starving to death, and this man’s flesh was the most delectable dish in all creation. I swallowed hard as my eyes latched on to the thin patch of hair that trailed low, into his jeans. I licked my lips and forced myself to look at anything except him.
I waited until he was out of the room before I moved into the tiny space to retrieve the teapot, and then filled it with water. I listened as the water turned on in the bathroom, and exhaled a heavy sigh of relief. I had Lucian in my cottage, and from the small kitchen window, I could see that the storm was only getting worse.
I pulled my cell phone off the kitchen counter and checked for messages and making certain that I hadn’t missed any texts; I dialed my sister’s number and got nothing. I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at the searching for service icon.
“No service?” a deep voice rumbled behind me. I spun around to answer, but words didn’t come out.
His hair was still wet from the shower, tousled to look as if he had just run his fingers through it instead of taking the time to brush it. The white towel I’d given him was wound around his hips, and that damn happy trail was back, wet, with droplets that seemed to flow down there, invitingly. My eyes gravitated to his pierced nipple and I couldn’t tear them from it. It was as if they’d been superglued to the spot.
“I…I…what?” I whispered as I forced my eyes back to his in time to catch a smug look of satisfaction on his face, and the heat in his eyes that melted my bones.
The tea kettle let loose a loud whistle that made me jump in surprise. I whispered a silent curse at my own behavior, moved to take it off, and poured the hot water into the waiting cups. With shaking hands, I scooped a bit of loose dried peppermint and lavender into two small infusers and dropped them into the mugs.
I knew he was right behind me; I didn’t need to turn around to see that he’d come up behind me and was standing entirely too close. In a freaking towel…Gods, what the hell had I been thinking? Here, go shower in my bathroom while I make us tea, and afterwards, you can bang me over the table, ‘k? Get a grip.
C’mon girl, you have brains. Use them. This guy? He’s an egotistical asshole who flaunts his money around. You can’t seriously like him. Women like you? They don’t get men like him. You have nothing he could possibly want except a quick fuck, and well, not going to happen.
“Clothes didn’t fit?” I asked as I put sugar in my tea and turned around, giving him a curious glance.
“I put mine in your washing machine. Should be done here pretty quickly,” he said smoothly as his eyes lowered to my mouth.
“Sugar?” I asked as I danced around him and moved to the small table. This man exuded power, and worse, he ate up what little space was in the room.
“I’m about to get there,” he whispered hoarsely.
“In your tea,” I corrected him. My heart was beating wildly, and my pulse was probably visible to his eyes with how hard it was pounding.
I was stuck in a tiny cottage with him, in a blackout, with candlelight dancing on the walls and in his seductive eyes. The only thing that he had on was a flimsy Walmart-brand towel. One that did very little to hide that he was sporting a package that was more than ready to be delivered. I needed to move this into the front room, where at least Luna could back me up!
“Shall we take our tea to the front room?” I asked in a breathy voice which caused my eyes to go wide in surprise at the vixen’s voice that had replaced my own.
A knock sounded from the front door and I all but tripped over him in my haste to get away from my own reaction to him, and his omg-he’s-got-an-eight-pack-happy-trail-special-motherfucking-delivery-hell-nipple-piercing body.
Chapter Eleven
I stood in the doorway trying to figure out how to get Kendra’s mouth closed as she ogled Lucian from the other side. He had no shame. Instead of hiding from whoever was at the door, he’d moved behind me, and was now giving my sister and mother plenty to look at it.
“Power’s out,” Kendra chirped as her eyes gave him a good onceover, and then another.
I knew her pain. One look just wasn’t enough. Seriously. You needed to look at him, look again, visually touch it, play with it, pull on it, and maybe lick it for good luck before you got enough of it. I had a half-naked man in my cottage, and that was a serious no-no before the Awakening.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” I said softly as my mother’s eyes flashed with disapproval.
“This wasn’t what they meant by ‘serve him,’ Magdalena,” she fumed.
“He was in the garden with me, pulling bulbs for the greenhouse, when the storm hit. We came here because we were wet and covered in dirt. We didn’t do anything inappropriate; you can ask him.”
“I didn’t sleep with your daughter, she’s not even my type,” he offered casually, which caused my stomach to hit the floor, along with my pride.
“Not your type?” I asked as I lifted a brow and looked at him.
His eyes flashed a silent warning, but I chose to ignore it. “I’m just waiting for my clothes to get clean, now that the storm seems to be passing,” was his reply.
I chewed on my bottom lip and wondered why him saying that had bothered me at all. Hadn’t I just told myself that men like him didn’t go for girls like me? I moved away from him, allowing my mother and sister inside and out of the rain. Luna moved to my mother and rubbed her head against her ankle in hello.
Did she fail to note that while he may be half-naked, I was dressed? Okay, so I was in clothes that were easy to put on, which she’d probably mistaken for pajamas, since let’s face it, yoga pants are often mistaken for them.
I moved into the kitchen again, skipping the tea and going straight for Grandma’s stash of wine that was kept chilled in the little cellar drawer. I pulled out a bottle, deftly uncorked it, and chugged. It was so good, and yeah, maybe I should have used a glass, but it wasn’t a delicate glass kind of day. It was an I-need-the-entire-bottle-to-myself day.
I listened from the kitchen as my mother spoke to Lucian, and did the last thing I expected her to do. She invited him to dinner.
“No, I insist. Besides, the coven thinks that Magdalena got off too easy and they won’t leave her alone unless she makes amends to you. She was a half decent cook when she left home, I’m sure she hasn’t worsened over time.”
“What the hell?” I asked as I stuck my head around the corner and glared at my mother.
“It’s the least you can do for him, and besides, considering how I just found you it’s expected for him to at least try to court you.”
“This isn’t the medieval times, and besides, when did it become illegal to be a good neighbor? He was covered in dirt and mud, and there’s a storm outside, in case you missed that part. I let him shower. I didn’t clean him with my freaking tongue, for heaven’s sake!”
“Magdalena,” she warned. “Even had I not found you in a compromising situation, you’d still be making up for what you did last night.”
“Fine,” I said, frustrated with my mother. I gave up; besides, it wasn’t like I’d had time to tell her about the slinky little black outfit he wanted me to wear, or that if I didn’t follow his orders, I’d be locked in his office with him. She had no idea what an ass he really was.
“Fine,” she agreed with a worried frown before she turned towards the door, and then, as if she was remembering that there was a half-naked man inside the cottage, she stopped, turned around, and moved her stubborn ass to the couch. Just what I needed: A lovely chaperone. I loved my mother, but she could seriously be stubborn.
I tilted my head and remembered what he’d said. He’d placed the dirty clothing he’d been in into the ‘hello-it’s-a-blackout’ washing machine, which meant he hadn’t planned on changing anytime soon. What else could a sexy, hello-hormones-I-see-you’re-all-functioning-because-he’s-in-nothing-but-a-towel man be planning to do while he waited?
Okay, so in my head it was playing out in brutal and graphic Technicolor what we could be doing. I shook my head, dispelling the visceral images.
I chanced a peek over in his general direction and ended up staring right into his inky depths. His eyes said, “Fix it. Get rid of them.”
My eyes smiled and said, “You fucking fix it,” and then they said, “Tell me, exactly how long do you think the washing machine has left? Considering there’s no power to run it, I’m guessing you figured it would give you just enough time to seduce me and then head home strutting like a peacock?” I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head, but mostly at my own stupidity for not realizing it earlier.
He smiled and I felt a violent shiver that I had to forcefully stop myself from exposing to him. His eyes seemed to reply, “I don’t strut. I conquer, I ruin, I claim. Violently. But I do not strut. I claim ownership, little girl.”
“I can’t be owned,” I blurted, no longer willing to have a silent battle with someone who obviously had the upper hand. For now.
“Never said you could be,” he said softly and bowed his head before he turned and left the cottage…in a towel. I was jealous of that towel, so freaking jealous. I’d burn that bitch when it came back.
I moved to the window, unable to help it. Kendra joined me, and our heads tilted at the exact same time. A groan left our lips, at exactly the same time. We sighed like little school girls and then laughed at our reaction.
“Magdalena, do I need to explain to you how important is to remain chaste during this time?” my mom said, pulling my eyes away from the ripped back, and sinewy muscles that was walking away.
“No, I know the rules. I’ve done what was asked, but I don’t understand why you expect me to cook for that man,” I replied hastily. I didn’t. Not at all.
“Because this family needs his support as much as this town does. He’s offered to take the store off our hands, which would give us enough money to get by while I figure out another way to bring in a steady income.”
“You’re not selling that store,” I argued. “Why did you close it? Cassidy doesn’t know anything about tonics, let alone spells. I’m surprised she hasn’t done some serious harm to people!”
“Your father took the recipes,” she replied softly. “I didn’t have the energy to fight with him to get them back, or deal with it at the time. I did what I had to do to survive, Magdalena. Just as you did, but now that you’re back, we will figure something out together.”
Gut…kicked. I was an asshole.
“We can salvage the store, though; we don’t need the old recipes, and we don’t even have to make spells. Those shouldn’t be for sale anyway; most of the other covens don’t charge for them, according to Google. I took botany, learned how to make fragrances, soaps, shampoos, and so much more. I can make tea that does what most of the relaxation spells do, and those were the biggest sellers in the shop. Remember? Tasted like frog’s ass, and everyone hated the taste, but they still bought it,” I babbled with a nervous laugh.
“I’ve already started the paperwork,” my mom replied her eyes full of tears.
“So rip it up,” I said vehemently. “He’ll understand.”
“He’s a businessman, Magdalena. Not a saint. I already accepted the first payment so I would be able to host the opening celebration.”
“Then I’ll get it back, somehow,” I assured her.
My mom shook her head, but she knew it was pointless to argue when I got my mind fixed on something. She, like my grandmother, knew when to just nod and smile and entertain my crazy ideas.
“About dinner, I do hope you haven’t given up on cooking since you’ve been gone?” Kendra injected into the conversation.
“I didn’t starve to death while I was away, did I?” Insert ‘smartass’ here.
“Top Ramen and cups of noodles don’t count,” she said with a soft smile.
“I remember how to cook, but I’m sure he’s used to a lot better than what I can cook in this kitchen.”
“You’ll use the kitchen in the main house; it’s heavily warded,” Mom said as she stood and stifled a yawn.
“Is there something I should know?” I asked with a worried frown.
“We’ve had a few girls go missing in the last week. We don’t know if it is just pre-Awakening jitters, or if something else is going on. We’re playing it safe, sticking close to the coven. There’s been chatter from other covens about suspicious things happening, and problems for the Guild witches as well. Until we have concrete evidence that those girls left of their own free will, we’ll continue to play it safe.”
I blinked at my mom and started to speak, but shut my mouth and shook my head. Who had gone missing? How had no one even mentioned it to me? The message from the coven I’d gotten before I’d l
eft for home had been short and straight to the point.
“I was so worried, I wanted to come for you myself, Magdalena. The elders warned you of the problems arising with the Awakening coming, I’m sure,” she stated with absolute certainty.
“No, they didn’t. It was just a basic message. Nothing else. No warning of any trouble,” I replied with in a calm tone, which surprised me because I wasn’t feeling calm at all.
“It’s not something we want to broadcast,” Kendra said reassuringly as she laid her hand on my shoulder, feeling my inner turmoil.
Being twins had hidden benefits; feelings, understanding of how or why the other did certain things, and our own secret little code. Unlike others, I could feel my sister. As if a piece of her lived inside of me and vice versa. Mom said it was because we were identical, and closer than most of the twins of the human world. I’d missed feeling her and knowing she was close if I needed her. She was the only one I didn’t have to explain things to, because she felt them with me.
“Witches don’t leave home, not this close to the Awakening,” I said.
“You did,” my mother spoke calmly, her tone carrying an underlying bitterness that she did little to hide. She’d seemed okay with me leaving, but maybe I’d only assumed it. Maybe I’d only heard what I had wanted to from her before I left.
“I didn’t leave right before the Awakening. I was wrong to leave, but none of the colleges here offered what I needed to take and now it looks like maybe leaving wasn’t such a bad thing. I plan to save the shop, even if I have to flirt with the devil himself to get it back.”
Chapter Twelve
I walked into Club Chaos just before 5 p.m. It wasn’t full, but it was still early and I knew it would be packed soon enough. The music was loud, something I didn’t really miss from my last job at a nightclub. Don’t get me wrong, I loved music, and I loved it loud, but there was only so much a person could handle while trying to take orders. I’d made a list last night, one that had been as long as my arm, with things I needed to get done. Most were important things, none of which included playing servant to Lucian.
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