Playing With Monsters

Home > Fantasy > Playing With Monsters > Page 23
Playing With Monsters Page 23

by Amelia Hutchins


  “He isn’t getting me back, Ken,” I said, using the nickname Joshua had given her when he’d dubbed me Lenny. “Not even if we were the last people in this universe and the human race was dependent on us repopulating it. I’d die first,” I announced as I smacked my cherry red lips together and watched her through the reflection in the mirror. I hated that he’d upset her, or that the bastard had told her that.

  “You know I don’t like that name, and that’s pretty dramatic, Lenny, even for you.” And just like that, she closed off her emotions, and my heart clenched for the sliver of pain I felt coming from her. “He would say your name when we had sex; I’m such an idiot. I thought if I loved him enough, he’d love me back. I’ve been crushing on him for a long time; you know that. Whatever,” she dismissed the subject with a wave of her hand. “Ready?”

  I turned to look at her and smiled. “You’re not an idiot, Kendra. You expected him to be honest, and Todd can’t handle that. He had problems when we were together, but like you, I figured I could change him. The truth is, he doesn’t want to be changed.”

  “You should be pissed at me, scream at me, do something besides be okay with me getting together with him after you left.”

  “I’m not angry at you,” I whispered as I felt the turmoil of her emotions that she failed to hide this time. “Oh, Kendra,” I hugged her to me, giving her a tight squeeze. “He’s just a stupid boy, and you’re my sister. I love you for suggesting I get angry, but I’m not going to. He’s simply not worth it, and I kind of want to kick his ass now for upsetting you.”

  “Well, we could kick his ass, but that might affect our chances at the selection,” she whispered through thick tears.

  “No crying,” I said as I pulled away and rushed to grab a tissue. “You’ll mess up your make-up and then we’ll be late,” I dabbed gently at her eyes and smiled. “Besides, we can’t let Cassidy sink her claws into the good guys. I’d be devastated if she got a better match than you did. I think part of the reason I came back was to watch her get jealous when you to get the better partner.”

  “You’re insane,” she whispered with a soft frown. “But, I’ve kind of been looking forward to that too, honestly.”

  “Good, let’s get going. We have heads to turn,” I whispered as I grabbed my clutch and guided her towards the door.

  *~*~*

  I’d had three tumblers of scotch, twenty-five mock interviews—or at least that’s what they felt like—by men who were both from town and out of town, and one confirmed marriage proposal by a guy who was more freaked out about the coming Harvest than I was—but I was pretty sure he’d been throwing a Hail Mary into the wind to cover up that he was playing for the same side. I’d seen him throwing Dexter some pretty big come hither looks.

  I was moving towards the small bar when a hand touched my shoulder, and I turned around to see who it was. I stopped short, my eyes taking in the man who’d stopped my progress towards the bar. He was drop dead sexy, with a killer smile that said he knew exactly how hot he was.

  “Magdalena Fitzgerald, I assume?” There was a soft hint of an accent in his words.

  “You assume correctly. And you would be?” I inquired, my lips tugging in the corners as I fought off a smile. Shit, why didn’t we have men who looked like this here?

  “Devlin St. James, from the Park City Utah coven,” he announced dramatically and gave me a mock bow. “At your service, beautiful.” His wicked smile indicated that his services could be anything but chaste.

  “And what services do you offer?” I asked, openly flirting as I allowed a smile to twitch at the corner of my mouth.

  “I can’t tell you yet…first, I need to get you another drink,” he announced as he headed towards the bar before turning around to smile at me. “Find us a table, and I’ll meet you there.”

  “You assume I want you to get me a drink?” I replied, my eyes smiling as I tried to keep a straight face.

  “I do, because right now Thatcher is trying to work up enough courage to approach you, and he spits when he speaks, so I’m doing you a solid by distracting you and keeping the vultures at bay,” he said as he tipped his head to where a red haired guy stood with overly thick glasses watching me.

  “Oh good lord,” I whispered with a small laugh that I hid behind my hand. “Fine, but you better bring me something that isn’t too girly.”

  “Indeed my fair lady, it will be strong enough that I can get you drunk enough to have my way with you,” he grinned as he wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Oh, you are a naughty boy,” I laughed and moved away to find us a vacant table.

  I found one, took a seat, and looked around the room. I’d felt the weight of his stare for most of the night, and knew exactly where he was. Lucian was in a darkened corner of the room where the wall was at his back, and he had a vantage point of the entire room. Once again he was wearing an expensive suit. At this stage of the game, I would have been disappointed if he hadn’t been dressed in a bespoke suit of some kind. I’d done my best to ignore the feeling of his eyes, as they seemed to track me down no matter where I was in the room, but it was a hard thing to do when it made my body respond, even when he wasn’t close to me. I watched him from beneath my lashes as he smiled wickedly and continued to swirl the two fingers of scotch in his glass.

  The way he looked at me was predatory, with a heat that slid over my skin. It made the butterflies take flight in my belly, and my body responded to him every time he was in the same room. The man was sinfully gorgeous, with a bad boy flare that made me want to see just how bad he could be. It pissed me off. He shouldn’t be having this effect on me, not on this level.

  “Wow, who pissed you off?” Devlin interrupted my thoughts as he sat across from me, unfortunately doing nothing to block my view of Lucian.

  “Nobody,” I mumbled as I accepted the glass he offered and took a sip. I closed my eyes and gasped with a small giggle as the liquid burned on its way down. “Mmm, that’s good,” I said softly as I opened my eyes to find Devlin watching me.

  “That was sexy,” he said as he took another sip, then set his own drink down. “Do you always make that face when you drink? Because I can go back and get the entire bottle and we can find some place more secluded.”

  “You move fast,” I noted, my eyes taking him in.

  This guy was hot as hell; his eyes were the color of the scotch that was currently swirling in Lucian’s glass. They had flecks of black, which created a beauty that was almost otherworldly. He was tall; even sitting, he engulfed the chair, and I had the strangest urge to peek beneath the table to see if his knees were touching it. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows; both covered in tattoos that made my bad girl rear her head with curiosity. His hair was longer than most of the guys here, touching his shoulders in strands of deep chocolate to burgundy. Totally a dye job, but who cared? He was panty dripping hotness, and right now, I needed a distraction.

  “Only when I find something I want,” he said with a half grin that lit his eyes.

  “And have you?” I asked, my eyes moving to his tattoos.

  “Have I what?” he countered.

  “Found something you want,” I placed my elbows on the table and lifted my glass to take another drink as my eyes met his over the rim of the glass.

  “Let’s see, a woman who’s hot as fuck, doesn’t give a shit about impressing the men here with some ridiculous, overly fancy dress, one who also prefers whisky…I think I have,” he stated, his finger tracing the rim of his glass as his eyes held mine.

  “I didn’t have anything formal to wear,” I replied to his words, my eyes holding his. “I’m not rich, and couldn’t afford to buy so many different formal dresses for so many events. I sort of dropped it all on the opening and wasn’t about to shake my family down for more.” I cringed inwardly, waiting for him to move on to the ne
xt table.

  “That was meant to turn me off, wasn’t it?” he asked carefully, his eyes probing me as he narrowed his eyes.

  “Yes,” I scrunched up my nose. “Sorry, I’m used to warding off men, not selling myself to them.”

  “Nah, that would make you a hooker, and I’m kind of glad you’re not a hooker,” he said with a lopsided grin. “I prefer not to pay for sex, but I’m not totally against it if it’s with you.”

  I laughed and it felt good. I smiled wide and shook my head. “I was right about you. You are naughty.”

  “I’m also not partial to rich bitches that think they’re entitled to everything their little heart desires. Same goes for educated women who think they’re superior because they have an education while others don’t. So trying to scare me away won’t work, pretty girl. Now if you tell me you like biting delicate flesh, me and my boys might run away. You don’t look like the biting type, though, but then I’ve been wrong before,” he replied easily as he watched me set my glass down and reached for my hand. “May I?” his eyes heated to liquid amber as I accepted and placed my hand in his.

  His fingers trailed over the palm of my hand. “You have soft hands,” he traced the lines in my hand a bit like a palm reader would, “yet you’re not afraid of hard work,” he continued, gently tracing the life line in my palm as his finger sent shock waves through my entire body. They weren’t as powerful as Lucian’s, but they were affecting me. “You haven’t had an easy life, but you don’t choose to blame others for it. You have pain, but you won’t share it or let anyone see it, because you’re not willing to…yet. You’re strong, but not because you want to be; it’s because you have to be.” He smiled, his fingers continuing to read my palm as he sent a trembling sensation through my entire body with a single touch. “You also want to skip the whole Harvest ceremony thing, mostly because you want to marry someone sinfully handsome who has great hair.”

  I laughed, and pulled my palm away from him. “You do have really great hair,” I replied as a blush colored my cheeks.

  “I do, but yours would look better covered in sweat and spread out across my sheets.”

  “Is that so?” I whispered as I chewed my bottom lip.

  “Indeed,” he pushed my glass closer towards me. “So, now we play one hundred questions…and I get to know you better.”

  “It’s supposed to be fifty questions,” I countered.

  He smiled wickedly. “It’s one hundred because I figure if I ask them slow enough, you’ll marry me just to shut me up.”

  I laughed causing eyes to turn in our direction. “You’re horrible,” I giggled with an amused smile. “Go for it, but I’m not marrying someone I just met.”

  “Isn’t that why we’re all here? To listen to the wisdom of the dead who don’t know jack about our century, who plan to slap us together like livestock to breed the next generation for your coven?”

  I laughed again and shook my head. “You don’t agree with tradition?”

  “I don’t think the dead should be allowed to dictate to the living or decide who we end up with for the Harvest, I’m the kind of guy who prefers picking his own fuck buddy.”

  “There’s always a way out of it,” I paused and looked him steadily in the eye. “You could always just randomly marry one of the girls, and be excluded from the entire process.”

  “Oh sure, and be the reason the divorce rate spikes? I think it’s high enough without us adding to it. Don’t you agree?” he asked as he sat back and slung his arm behind his chair in a laid back position. As if he didn’t care what anyone else thought of him; it was refreshing.

  “Yes, I can agree with that, but then I’m just one of many who aren’t entitled to question those who came before us.”

  “Tell me this, Magdalena. Are all of the women in your line this hot and open-minded, or did you break the mold when you fought your way into this world?” he asked smoothly, his eyes lowering slightly to the neckline of my dress.

  I swallowed at the heat in his eyes. “I come from a long line of highly sought-after witches, so I guess being from my bloodline has its perks. I think women should think for themselves, and about being hot, there’s prettier girls here tonight.”

  “Anything you want to ask me?” he said after he nodded at my answer.

  “Where did your coven originate; was it Park City?” I asked curiously.

  “Salem. However, mine headed west a long time after yours passed through and paved the way for us to do so. Instead of coming to where your coven was, ours moved south down to Texas, where we remained in the shadows, much as your coven did.”

  “Texas.” Well, it explained his perfect tan and rough hands. He obviously wasn’t afraid of hard work. “How did you end up in Utah?”

  “Aww, that’s two questions and it’s my turn,” he said with a soft smile. “Tell me, are you looking to get married before the Awakening and skip this entire charade, or are you seriously planning to allow a bunch of dead people to choose for you?” There was almost a hint of a dare in his eyes as he took a sip from his drink.

  “Are you asking me to marry you?” I countered and he shook his head again as he smiled against the drink.

  “Ah, you’re dodging the question, naughty girl,” he whispered with enough heat in his eyes to melt my insides.

  “I’m not sure what I’ll do, but I do know that I’ll do whatever is needed to unlock my powers and take my place in the coven.”

  “Good answer,” he replied easily.

  “Now answer my question; did you ask me to marry you?” I watched as his eyes narrowed with heat.

  “Only if you plan to say yes, because if you say no, you’ll break my heart,” he countered.

  I laughed.

  “Tell me; are all the guys in your coven as limp as their powers currently are?”

  “Excuse me?” I coughed and covered my mouth with my hand to keep from spitting whisky all over him.

  “Do all of the men here have their balls as restrained as their magic currently is?”

  “Why do you think that?” I laughed as my eyes grew large at his bluntness.

  “Because you’re single, and they seem unaware of it. It makes me think that they’re fucking idiots. You’re hot, smart, and you come from a long line of highly respected witches. You’re also sexy as fuck, and probably a wildcat in bed, which guys talk about. You go after the wild ones if you have the balls to do so, and no one has. So, either they’re limp or you’re playing hard to get, but you seem pretty down to earth to me.”

  “It’s not that simple,” I said softly as heat fused my cheeks. “I’ve been gone a long time.”

  “Witches, we tend to stay together,” he tapped his glass thoughtfully with a long finger. “I couldn’t imagine you’d leave home. There’s protection in numbers.”

  I winced and frowned. “I was going to get married,” I swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “He cheated on me, and then my brother was killed in Afghanistan. I guess too many things piled up, because I left town shortly after we buried him.”

  It was his turn to wince. “Someone cheated on you when you’d agreed to marry him? Was he fucking insane, or gay and he cheated on you with a guy?” he snapped, his eyes narrowed as he awaited my response.

  “Neither, but I did run. It’s unconventional, and frowned on in my coven…and pretty much all covens.”

  “Look, I like you,” he said softly. “Smart, sexy, and seriously funny, plus, you drink whisky instead of some fruity girl drink.” His quiet laugh made my lips twitch in response. “The only thing better than that would be me knowing that you were a fucking knockout between the sheets, which, if you allow, I’d like to figure that one out for myself,” he smiled flirtatiously. “You’re a serious catch and who cares what happened in the past, that’s why it’s called the past, beca
use we’re here, in the present, Magdalena. I may not be from the best bloodline, but I promise if you elope with me, you’ll never go hungry, and I will make you happy. I’ll also probably never let you leave my bed, but I do promise to run to the fridge to keep you well-fed so I can continually ravish you.”

  “I couldn’t tell you if I’m good in bed because I’m not as open about sex as most witches are. My experience with sex is pretty limited, and eating in bed isn’t something I do.”

  “Oh, tell me it isn’t so! No one around here’s been itching to get into those pretty panties?” he whispered as he leaned over the table and his hands grasped my knees beneath it. I jumped, and pulled my legs together, or tried to; he held them firmly as he parted them. “Again with the limp dicks, what the fuck you guys raising up here, monks? I’d have worn you down until you’d agreed, and then kept going until your senses were well and truly defeated, then I would have rocked your fucking world.”

  “It’s not their fault,” I laughed as heat shot through me. “I didn’t follow the coven’s thinking, and I was saving it for something special.”

  “Was, but you’re not anymore.”

  “No, I gave it up and got a severe let down for my first time, and then I just stopped trying, I guess. I’m not a virgin, and I’m really not open to discussing it with someone I just met ten minutes ago.”

  Something caught his eye and he nodded, so I turned to see what it was. Lucian was the only one behind us, and he wasn’t even looking in our direction. I followed his eyes to where he watched Cassidy as she flicked her hair and smiled at him. She was dressed beautifully tonight. His eyes lingered on her before slowly moving to me, and I felt a tug and twisting in my belly as jealousy spiked. I reminded myself that I had no right to be and turned back to Devlin.

  “I need to figure out where I’m staying tonight, Magdalena, but I’d love to see you again, soon,” he announced as he pulled a card from the pocket of his slacks. “My digits—and I want yours.”

 

‹ Prev