Wicked Bad: WIcked³, Book 2 Page 2

  “Because you’re a masochist who needs the money?” Dee, a short, dark-haired waitress with kind eyes and a tired smile leaned against the glass counter, hiding the pies with her curving hips.

  Harrison chuckled. “Not this badly. I take comfort in the fact that she actually had plans tonight, where I’d be neck deep in a bubble bath reading. Alone. One of us has to have a life. It may as well be her.”

  Dee lifted her leg to rub her swollen ankle, shaking her head. “I don’t agree. Why should she? She’s a peach cobbler short of a dinner special if you know what I mean. I’d appreciate her latest playboy far more than she ever could. Still, she should have a good story about whips and chains and diamond tiaras that I can envy tomorrow.”

  The older woman raised an eyebrow. “What I don’t understand is why Carol isn’t taking this shift because you are out having a life along with Melissa. You’re young, beautiful and a helluva lot classier than most of the waitresses who’ve come through this old dive. I know all our regulars have gone gaga over you. Why aren’t you painting the town, making magic with some hot, young stud?”

  Magic. Harrison shrugged, layering the plates on her arm before winking at the older, freckle-faced cook, who blushed. “Why do I need magic when I have all this?”

  Deanna snorted behind her as Harrison headed to her table. Next time she saw Callie she was going to owe that girl a big apology. She’d always thought living as a human would be easier than being an Abbott. A Magian. No expectations, no spells to perfect, no family pressure—hah.

  Keeping her self-enforced ban on all things magical during these last three months, since she’d moved to Cambridge, was the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life.

  She’d taken it for granted—all the little ways her abilities had made her life easier. From laundry to makeup, even something as simple as getting rid of a hangover, magic was the solution. And what a spell could not accomplish, Jenner or someone else in her family took care of.

  Just thinking of her first attempt at cooking made her cringe. But once she’d figured out the fine art of boiling water? Macaroni and cheese had never tasted so good. And she’d been proud. As proud as the first time one of her spells did what it was supposed to do. Maybe more so.

  Not being good at something immediately was new to her. It made everything an adventure. She kind of enjoyed getting messy, turning her underwear pink and having to unclog the old sink in her apartment every other day.

  On the other hand…she did it all with the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to forever. Most people didn’t have that luxury.

  She bantered with her customers, making sure they had everything they needed before moving on to bus an empty table. The half-filled plates of food and cold cups of coffee made her grimace, then chuckle.

  Who knew this would be her rebellion? Harrison Abbott didn’t run away to sow her wild oats, as a Magian she’d done that several times over. She’d run away to live an ordinary human life.

  Though she couldn’t say it had started out ordinary. When she’d first arrived in town she’d shut herself inside her small apartment, sure that her fathers or brothers would be knocking down her door at any moment, demanding she return. A part of her was surprised her potions had worked. Surprised no one knew where she was. That her triad matches hadn’t come to claim her.

  It took weeks for her to let down her guard. Just enough time for her to go through the money Conway had given her. Walking into this diner had been the best thing she could have done. With no resume, references or non-magical skills, waitress at a small diner was about as normal as she was going to get. Thankfully she had a patient boss who’d taken pity on her. And she would enjoy it until the potion that protected her from being found ran out, and she was forced to go home and face the music.

  She did miss them. Her family. Even the irritating, overprotective Jenner. And Callie. There was so much she wanted to share with her best friend about all she’d experienced since she’d been here, so much she wanted to know about how Callie was adjusting to being joined with her Triune and realizing she’d never been human all in one fell swoop.

  But going back meant they would find her. The Magian males whose power and passion had called to hers so strongly at the Triune. She hadn’t been able to see their faces clearly, but she’d felt them. And that feeling, that scene in the stairwell, had been in her dreams every night. Along with their words of scorn for a woman they hadn’t met. For her.

  No, she wasn’t ready to go back yet. Not until she knew she was strong enough to reject her Magian instincts, to reject her matches rather than living her life as a third wheel with two men who’d been forced to seek out a union against their will. Two men who loved each other, and wanted no part of her but her name and her magic.

  She knew it could be done. Matches had been rejected before. She would just have to appeal to her parents. The Abbotts held sway in the community. And, especially after this last incident she was sure, with the Proxenos, whose judgment was mandatory for a true triad. As long as there’d been no actual consummation, it was possible to nullify the connection before it was too late. Mutual orgasms at a distance didn’t count.

  “Jane, honey. Earth to Jane. I’ll finish bussing. You have a table waiting, hon. May as well make money while you’re here.” Dee’s whispered words at her shoulder jerked her out of her musings. How long had she been wiping down the table?

  She rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Dee.” Jane. Plain Jane Smith. That’s who she was now. Not very original, but she’d been in a hurry. She needed to enjoy it while it lasted.

  She slipped the order pad out of her apron and headed toward the man sitting alone in the booth with a bright, welcoming smile. “Good evening, sir. Would you like to hear about our specials?”

  “I know what I want.”

  That voice. Harrison’s fingers tightened on her pad, and her heart started to race. He looked up at her, his expression courteous and friendly. His brown eyes sparkled. Brown. Not black. Not piercing ebony. Just brown. The man was handsome, no doubt, but he wasn’t the Magian from Triune. He wasn’t as big. As overwhelming. There was no way Jacob could find her anyway, not with her magic repressed, hidden. Her mind was simply playing tricks on her.

  Her smile wobbled, but it stayed on as she lifted her pen. “What’ll it be?”

  “I’ve heard great things about the meatloaf…Jane. I’ll have that and a slice of the strawberry rhubarb pie.” His voice was making her thighs tremble.

  “It’s the cook’s specialty. You’ll love it.”

  Her jaw ached from keeping her smile, and she turned toward the kitchen without another word. Maybe she needed to take Dee’s advice and get out more. She was restless, without magic or passion. Besides, hadn’t that been on her list of things to try? She’d always wanted to experience single life as a human. To have a man who just wanted to use her for her body, not her abilities.

  Melissa had invited her out more than once, complaining that she had too many wealthy, kinky men clamoring for her attention. Perhaps it was time to take her up on it. If her reaction to the man at her table was anything to go by, sooner would be better than later.

  After she slipped the order to the cook, she went to the employee bathroom to splash some water on her face and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She certainly looked all too human today. Her shock of long black hair pinned up in a bun, her gray eyes still exotic, but tired. And her skin. Ugh. Normal, non-magical makeup was hell on her complexion. It felt heavy and caked onto her face. Unnatural.

  If and when she ever went back to civilization, she would need a whole slew of appointments at the Magian day spa to recover.

  But it would be worth it.

  Her image wavered in the mirror and she gasped, stepping back so quickly her elbows hit the wall.

  “Harry…”

  Lorie? That sounded like her brother’s voice calling her name. Distant but distinct.

  For a moment she could have sworn his
face superimposed over hers in the reflection. In the blink of an eye it was gone. He was gone.

  “Shit.” Had they found her? Had they gotten Lorie, usually so lost in his research he couldn’t be bothered, to cast a locator spell that bypassed all her protections? He no doubt knew enough to do it. But she didn’t believe he would. If anyone understood her need to be left alone it was her shy, solitary brother.

  Maybe she was just imagining it.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  “Order’s up, hon. That table’s looking pretty darn impatient. Man obviously has a stick up his ass. Want me to bring it to him?” Dee sounded worried.

  Harrison patted her cheeks, her smile falsely bright as she opened the door. “No. Thanks, but I’ve got this one.”

  She carried the plates to the uptight, if handsome, man, but her mind was on other things. Maybe she should call Conway. Check on things, just in case. Lorie had sounded anxious. She supposed they all were, wondering where she was. Just one phone call, to make sure everyone was all right.

  “Are you going to stand there all day, or were you planning on giving me my food?”

  Harrison narrowed her eyes, her expression sharpening at his rudeness. A sudden image of her using magic to turn him into a small, furry rodent came to mind, but she dismissed it. “I’m sorry, sir.” She set the plate on the table more firmly than usual. “Enjoy your meal.”

  She turned to go, but he grabbed her sleeve. She could tell he had to work to soften his expression, though he seemed to be avoiding actually touching her. As if she were somehow distasteful. What a jerk. She was about to dump his meatloaf in his lap and send him on his way. His next words stopped her.

  “I am the one who needs to apologize, Jane. May I call you Jane? I’m a jackass at the best of times, but today I received some difficult news. It was a bitter pill to swallow. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

  His voice, so like the one from her fantasies, lulled her. She understood rough days. She’d had a few herself. Her smile returned. “Everybody gets a turn, sir. We’re only human, right?”

  Something flickered in his mud brown eyes before he nodded. “Yes. Only human. Thank you for being so gracious.”

  She nodded and gently extricated her arm from his grasp. Her skin was still tingling as she fled behind the relative safety of the counter and the faces of her more familiar regulars. She really needed to get out more if that stiff was turning her on. She’d talk to Melissa about it tomorrow.

  “Miss Jane, I wish you’d let me walk you home.” Gary, the sweet, freckle-faced chef was blushing to the roots of his short ginger hair, and it made Harrison smile. Every night that she closed with him he offered, and every night she turned him down. She didn’t think he’d get the wrong idea, he was far too gentlemanly for that, but she liked being on her own. After a lifetime of smothering, it was a nice change.

  “My place is only a few blocks away. I’ll be fine. See you tomorrow afternoon, Gary.”

  Harrison tugged on the collar of her thin coat, pulling it closer around her neck as a breeze stirred the leaves on the sidewalk. She loved this town. It was so young and busy and alive. She snorted. She’d run away from home, but not that far. The Charles River was all that separated her from her family. In fact, she hadn’t really left at all. Though they were everywhere, Massachusetts was a Magian hotbed, with the largest population of witches in the United States. But she couldn’t make herself leave. It was her home.

  Maybe she wasn’t as brave as she’d thought.

  She heard footsteps behind her, felt a frosty breeze cling to her legs beneath the pink and blue skirt of her uniform. It was probably Gary. That uptight customer had slowly eaten his dinner, slowly eaten his dessert, then stayed for two more hours nursing his coffee, all the while watching Harrison work. Gary had asked her if she’d like him removed, but she’d declined. He was harmless, rudeness and all. Something inside told her to leave him alone. To let him stay.

  She looked over her shoulder to reassure Gary she was fine, but he wasn’t there. No one was.

  Only she knew with a bone deep certainty that she was being watched.

  All her senses went on high alert. She, more than anyone, knew there were more things going on in this world than could be seen with the naked eye. Hadn’t she used a cloaking spell on countless occasions, as thoughtlessly as a woman wore a scarf, to watch others unseen?

  But if something magical was watching her, wondering about her, the last thing she wanted to do was give herself away. The potion still protected her. And she knew it was a good one. A Magian, or any other magical creature who reached out with their senses should believe she was human.

  “Weird. I could’ve sworn I heard footsteps.” The words were for the watcher. She bit her lip, pretending to look around for a heartbeat longer. She turned, clutched her purse closer to her chest and walked swiftly toward the brownstone apartment where she’d been staying, for all appearances a single woman nervous to be walking home alone.

  She wasn’t entirely faking her apprehension. She couldn’t use magic. She’d repressed it. It was part of the spell. If this wasn’t a Magian detective sent by her family, and the creeping sensation along her spine told her it wasn’t, then getting to the warm, well-lit brick building full of people within shouting distance would be a smart move.

  “Cold hearted. I’ll show you cold hearted.”

  The whispered words whipped her around once more, and still she saw nothing. But she’d heard it. And it was followed by a chill that was unusual for this time of year. A bone deep chill…and a crackling sound. She looked at the old-fashioned lamppost she’d just passed, and her eyes widened.

  It was freezing in front of her eyes. Crystals of ice rising from the base to the globe encased light like a living thing. Devouring all the heat until there was nothing left but ice.

  She took a step back and looked down. It was spreading. A crystalline tendril from the lamp, traveling along the seams of the sidewalk, killing the small weeds and making the concrete smooth as glass as it slithered in her direction. “What the hell?”

  Who the hell? The Proxenos who’d been attacking people at Triune had been caught. And no one knew who or where she was. But she could no longer doubt this person had more than unseen observation in mind. They were after her.

  And they had power.

  She heard the ferocious bark of a dog over her pounding heart, and dropped her purse in shock as the large mop of hair and teeth jumped in front of her, growling at the darkness beyond.

  “Where did you come from?” Animals had heightened senses, she knew. They could often see things even young Magians couldn’t. Maybe it could see what was there, taunting her in the darkness. Threatening her. But there was no way an ordinary dog could protect her from this kind of magic. It would only get itself killed. “Get out of here, dog. Shoo, go on now.”

  She bent to grab her purse, patting her thigh to get its attention as she turned to race down the street. Only she wasn’t going anywhere. The ice had encircled her while she’d been distracted. She and the innocent animal were both in danger. She could see her breath, feeling an icy weight pressing into her, stronger and heavier with each beat of her heart until she was knocked to her knees.

  The dog continued its frenzied yowl as Harrison gasped for each lungful of air. The cold was sucking the life out of her. The creature that was doing this obviously didn’t want her alive. Why? Was this what Lorie had been trying to warn her about in the mirror? She might never get the chance to ask him.

  The dog planted its paws on her chest, sending her hurtling onto her back with his zeal, and she hit her head. Brilliant, glowing lights flashed behind her eyelids.

  She was so cold her skin felt like it was actually scalding. Pain sent her spiraling into the cold, empty dark.

  A fine end to her short adventure in humanity.

  Chapter Three

  She was burning up. Why was it so hot? She tried to lift her hand to wipe the trickle
of sweat off her temples, but when she couldn’t, her eyes opened wide in panic.

  The dog. The dog was sleeping on her arm. She wasn’t tied up in some basement waiting for Freezer Burn, or whatever that thing that was chasing her called itself. She was home, laying on her comfy, second-hand sofa. She must have dragged herself the few remaining blocks and just not remembered.

  She curled her fingers into the silky sable pelt of her hero. He was a big dog—too much of a mutt to tell what breed. And he was laying heavily against her left side, nearly pushing her off the couch entirely. No wonder she’d been hot. “I guess you saved me after all, didn’t you boy? I’ll have to have Gary make you a nice, rare steak in the morning to thank you properly.”

  He stared at her with beautiful hazel eyes that glittered with intelligence. His mouth opened into a wide, doggy smile, his tongue lolling out and his sharp, white teeth gleaming in the lamplight.

  “Steak sounds good to you, huh? Well, if I were my ordinary self I could just wriggle my nose and make you a feast fit for canine royalty. Unfortunately, in my current state, the best you can hope for are some microwaved wieners.”

  The dog barked excitedly, as if to let her know that sounded fine to him, and she pushed herself to a sitting position. She winced at the pain in the back of her head, inhaling sharply as she touched her scalp. A whopper of a goose egg was forming from where her head had hit the concrete.

  The rough tongue licking her arm made her smile. The dog whimpered apologetically, and she scratched him behind his floppy ears. His fur was so soft her hand tingled as she touched it. It made her smile. “I’ll live. Don’t worry, I’m still making you dinner.”

  She walked slowly to the kitchen, with each step feeling the aches and bruises that hadn’t been there before. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a package of hot dogs, her head pounding.

  As she punched buttons on the microwave, she tried to piece together what had happened tonight. The unusual customer whose voice reminded her of the Magian’s from Triune, the vision of Lorie, the psychotic being that wanted to freeze her where she stood.