Cruel Fortunes Omnibus: Volumes One to Four

by RAE STAPLETON

I could already smell the melting butter. Leslie measured the sugar and tossed it in. “This recipe is so easy, even you could make it.”

  “Thanks a lot.” The mix of ingredients didn’t sound promising, but if Leslie said it would taste good, I had to believe her. Then again, just about anything that was covered in chocolate had to be good.

  Leslie served herself the last of the wine and went looking for more. Sadly, there was only one more bottle. “You need to restock your wine cabinet.”

  “I’ve had a lot of help drinking lately,” I said, and drained my own glass. I sighed, allowing myself to pout. “I wouldn’t have to drink so much if psychotic men would stop stalking me.”

  “Cheer up,” Leslie said without sympathy, “They haven’t killed you yet.”

  Well, technically they had—twice—but I didn’t see the need to point that out.

  “I'm feeling especially jumpy tonight—because of the Betty thing.”

  Leslie’s eyes were shining. “You mean the fact that the poor woman was killed by your ex, who is now stalking you?”

  “Honestly, Leslie, you’re not helping.”

  “What? I’m just trying to make you laugh.” She tended to her sugar-and-butter mixture, which was beginning to bubble, inspected the tray covered with pretzels, and then poured the hot mixture over them returning them to the oven. Where’s your sense of humor tonight?”

  “It’s gone…much like Betty.”

  “There you go,” she said, laughing.

  She bent to look into the oven to check on the pretzels, which were madly frothing. The stove timer went off, so she grabbed a pot holder and removed the tray. “You just need some sort of magical protection spell. Hand me the chocolate chips, will you?”

  I did. Leslie sprinkled them over the pretzels, then reached for a spatula. “When they’re all nice and gooey, I’ll spread the chocolate around. Usually they need to sit in the fridge for an hour or so before they can be eaten but since when do we follow the rules?”

  “Touché.” I agreed. “So, what was bothering you the other night?”

  “What you talk ‘bout? I’m always happy.”

  “Before the party, you were having a bad day, remember?”

  “Oh, the asshole I was dating dumped me over text.”

  “Text? Ouch. Better than the Olsen twins’ debacle, I suppose.”

  “Right?” We both laughed, remembering when I’d found the twins who were chasing after her getting blown in the library. I’m totally adding his sweater to my collection.”

  I smirked. “I’m sure Cullen could set you up with somebody. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

  “Very funny. Anyway, not all of us are lucky enough to get pushed off a cliff and rescued by Prince Charming.”

  Leslie poked at the cooling bark, broke off a piece, and offered it to me. “Yeah, lucky me. I could push you off a cliff if that would cheer you up.” I took a bite and swallowed. “Whoa—that’s actually good?”

  Leslie laughed. “I’ll make a foodie out of you yet.”

  I broke off another piece of the candy and ate it. “Did you just call me a fatty?” The stuff was seriously addictive, even if it did stick to my teeth.

  “Foodie. You, dork. Now, let’s stick this bark in the fridge for a couple minutes while we start the movie. After it sets, we can break it up into pieces.”

  I grabbed the bottle of wine off the counter and double-checked the bolt on the door as I followed her into Cullen’s living room. A huge fireplace took up most of one wall. Cullen’s house was small but cozy. Once upon a time, it had been his family’s cottage. Most of the properties the O’Kelley’s owned had been passed down through the generations.

  My eyes focused on Leslie as she sat on the couch and pulled a book from her purse.

  “If you don’t want to watch the movie, we could always use this.” She held it in front of her with both hands.

  “Oh, you brought the book, that’s right. I need to put it in some sort of safe.”

  “Why don’t you try using it—use the magic to defend yourself?”

  “I don’t know. The last spell I used didn’t exactly help didn’t exactly help.”

  “Which one was that?”

  “Page thirty-eight. It was a dream walker spell but it won’t work. Rochus said it would only be good the one time.”

  “You mean this one?”

  She showed me the page and I nodded. Weird that it’s still there.

  “It’s page thirty-nine.”

  “What? Give me that.” I grabbed the book from her and flipped the page sure enough. I’d used the wrong spell. No wonder it hadn’t helped.”

  “What does thirty-eight say?”

  “It’s a spell to banish evil intentions.” I shook my head. “Well, that would have been a hell of a lot more helpful. How did I mix the pages up?”

  “Do you think it’s to do with fate?”

  “Like, that we can’t change it? God, I hope not ‘cause that means I’m going to die.”

  “Maybe not. Maybe you can’t change the past but you can change the present.” She gave me a look that oozed guilt. “Okay so, don’t be mad, but I had a look through the book and watch this. Leslie covered her eyes, “One, two, three, eyes change for me. One, two, three, brown eyes to blue eyes, I see.” She took a deep breath, chanting this line three more times. “By the power of three, so mote it be.” When she pulled her hand away, she had a big grin on her face. “Well? How do they look?’

  I frowned. “You mean, are your eyes now blue? No, they’re still full of shit.”

  Leslie huffed. “Well, it worked before.” She got up and hurried to the mirror on the wall. “What are you talking about? It did so work.”

  I unfolded my legs and stood to look in the mirror from behind her. “Sorry Les, but they’re still brown to me.”

  “Huh?” She hurried back across the room to the book, flipping rapidly until she found the page she was looking for. Then she scanned the lines with her finger. “Oh, I see what I did.” I said ‘I’ instead of everyone. Spells are very particular. Anyway, when I was looking through it, I found a way to contact Rochus.”

  “No. We are not contacting Rochus and Leslie, what were you thinking playing with magic, anyway?” I snapped, grabbing it out of her arms and setting it down.

  Her face was guarded and careful. “What? Nothing happened.”

  “Lucky for you. Who knows what happens when that book is opened? You could have wound up cursed like me.”

  “Why do you see this as a curse, Sophia?” she asked softly.

  “I don’t know. Wouldn’t you?”

  “No. You’re living every librarian’s dream. Experiencing the past when the rest of us can only read about it.”

  “Yes, but as you so lovingly reminded me, Nick is trying to kill me.”

  She reached out to touch the page and I looked up, startled, frightened by her curiosity.

  “No one can stop destiny. Maybe you were just meant to experience all of this and maybe, instead of fighting it, you should try embracing it. If he always finds you anyway then hiding is only prolonging the inevitable, isn’t it? Why don’t you call on Rochus for help?”

  I took a deep breath. “You have a point,” I said, feeling torn. The adventurous, knowledge-seeking bibliophile half of me wanted to do it; it was the other rational half of me that was still afraid. I looked past Leslie, out the windows toward the darkened sky. “I’ll think about it. But let’s just watch this movie for now.”

  I shoved the book under the coffee table.

  “Is that where you plan to keep it?”

  “I don’t know. Where’s a good spot to keep explosives? Because that’s what this book is.”

  She took the movie out of the case and smiled mischievously at me just as thunder exploded, rumbling and echoing off the walls.

  The opening scene began with a man creeping through the woods, flashlight in hand.

  I tugged the blanket off the back
of the couch, hastily pulling it over me before I picked up my wine.

  “Feeling the need for fortification?” Leslie said and smirked.

  “This is already unnerving. I don't like it.”

  “It gets better,” Leslie said assuredly, reaching out a hand to pet Daphne, who was now curled up beside her.

  “Mmm-hmm. I have my doubts.”

  Another thunderclap crashed and reverberated through the house and the room went dark and silent. Cursing, I got to my feet, chucking the blanket aside.

  “Glad I lit that candle.” I strode to the other room to grab it. The lightning lit up the kitchen, and outside the wind blew the trees about wildly.

  “It'll blow over soon. We should light some more candles, though,” Les called from the living room.

  Three drawers later I found some votives and a box of matches.

  I set the cinnamon candles aglow on the coffee table and sat back down. “Sorry ‘bout this.”

  “What, like you knew the electricity would go out?” She laughed. “Or was this all part of your master plan to get out of watching a scary movie? Did Rochus give you a spell for just such an occasion?”

  I snickered, but my eyes immediately shot down to the coffee table. There was a Kleenex box and remote. “No. No. That he did not.”

  “What are you thinking about? The book?”

  “No. Maybe. Yes.”

  “Come on, Sophia. Let’s call on him for help.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What—why not? You’re super-freaked out that Nick’s after you, and we can’t watch the movie anyway.”

  “Yeah, well anything’s better than watching that stupid movie.”

  I paused, then reached under the coffee table and pulled the book out, running my hands over the familiar design.

  The room’s dim lighting made the faint shimmer that danced from within more prominent, as if to once again alert me to just the right spot in the book.

  “Quit stalling and open it.”

  “Okay, okay. I’m just kind of nervous about playing with magic. It hasn’t exactly gone off without a hitch in the past, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  Thumbing through the pages, I searched for a spell. “Here’s one, but it says we need to create an incense portal for summoning ancestor spirits from the otherworld.”

  Leslie peeked over my shoulder. “And we will need a picture, lavender, cinnamon, and wormwood.”

  “Great. Like I just have all that stuff lying around.”

  I flipped to the next page that was emanating a faint glow.

  “What about that one—it’s a summoning spell, too, but you don’t need the picture and you do already have lavender and cinnamon candles burning.”

  “I don’t know. It says it will take me ‘there.’ That sounds creepy. What if I get stuck again?”

  “No. It says it will take your spirit to commune. It doesn’t say you’ll actually time travel.”

  “I wonder if this is the spell Rochus used in the library that time to call me to him?”

  “Maybe. What was it like? I don’t remember you ever really giving me details.”

  I gave her a look. Leslie had originally thought I was losing my mind when I’d tried to tell her about Rochus and my time travel.

  “What?” she questioned innocently.

  “It felt like I was in a washing machine and when the motion stopped, iridescent colors swirled around me. It was like I was floating inside a bubble and Rochus was sitting outside the bubble at his wooden table.”

  “What are you going to say to him, anyway?”

  “I’m gonna ask him what to do?” I said, growing more determined. “You should go in the other room.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “I don’t want to put you in danger, and I don’t know what will happen.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Leslie said, pushing her glasses back up her nose. “If something goes wrong, then I’m going to be here to help you.”

  “Fine,” I whispered, secretly grateful not to be alone. I began reading, taking care in the candlelight not to make a mistake.

  “I call upon the ancient power to help me in my darkest hour. Spirit from the other side, help me cross now the great divide. Beloved spirit, Rochus, wish me well. Take me to you at the sound of the bell.”

  When I finished, I stared down at the page.

  “Was something supposed to happen?” Leslie asked.

  “I don’t understand,” I said, flipping the book closed and then opening it back up to the glowing page.

  “Wait a minute, it says when you jingle the bell. Maybe you need a bell?” she suggested.

  “I don’t have a bell,” I said, looking down.

  I opened my eyes, feeling deflated, and stared at a fuzzy image of Leslie glowing. My vision steadied and I realized it was the candle that was illuminating her from behind.

  “You all right?” she asked just as a large crack of thunder sounded.

  I shot up.

  “I think I know what we need to do. We need to go to India.”

  “India?”

  “Yes! I need to put the jewel back in the temple to end the curse.”

  “You’re getting married in four months, Sophia. India is not in the cards right now. Let’s just poison him. He can’t hurt you if he’s dead. Anyway, I thought you were putting the jewels in that dagger for Cullen. Didn’t you already have it made?”

  “The dagger is ready but I haven’t dropped the jewels off to them yet. I’ll have to use something else. What else am I gonna do? Unless Nick kills himself, there’s no other way for me to break the curse.”

  “Maybe we could set a trap for him and get him thrown in prison for life.”

  “That’s not a bad idea, but I’d still need to return the jewels, unless he died in prison. Now grab your bag. We can brainstorm on the way.”

  “Sophia, we are not going to India right now.”

  “I know that. We’ll go after the wedding. Right now, we’re going to your penthouse where there are security cameras and doormen. I suddenly don’t feel safe here. Oh, and grab the book—we are definitely doing one of those protection spells.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  T he sun was rising as I slipped from bed and tiptoed into the hotel bathroom to wash my face. I was as quiet as could be, assuming Leslie was asleep, but she sat up the instant I padded back across the room.

  “Sorry,” I whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

  She hesitated for a second and then fell back on her pillow and almost immediately into a rhythmic snore. She might look small and dainty but she definitely didn’t sleep that way.

  I stole her robe off the top of her suitcase. It was a bit on the short side, especially considering the height I had on her, but I wrapped it around my waist anyway; it would have to do. I didn’t want to risk waking her again searching for the one the hotel offered. I’d have to grab some of my own clothes if I was going to continue to stay until Cullen returned.

  I closed the door and headed down the hall to the stairs. There was a reading room off to the left that I was looking forward to relaxing in, but first I needed a coffee. A tray clattered. I slowed my steps, hearing movement in the lower level.

  The alarm sounded louder in my gut with each step.

  Swiftly reaching the kitchenette, I grabbed the empty wine bottle from the sink and held it firmly against my chest. From the corner of my eye, a dark shape moved against the light filtering in through the windows.

  How had Nick found me so soon?

  I stepped back, hiding behind the wall next to the counter, and held my breath. I couldn’t see him but it sounded like he was heading toward me. My grip tightened and I prayed that part of the robe was not visible. As he crossed the threshold into the kitchenette I swung, bringing the bottle down over the back of his head, watching in relief as he collapsed at my feet.

  He was face down on the kitchen floor. Turning on the light, I bent down and confirmed he
was out cold then jerked open the drawers looking for something to tie him up with. Nothing. Damn it. This was a hotel, of course there was nothing useful. I pulled the belt off my robe and tied it as intricately around his wrists as I could. This should keep him immobile if he wakes up! I thought smugly.

  I struggled to roll him on to his side so I could verify it was Nick. A vague thought flashed through my mind as I recognized a cart by the door. Had he disguised himself as room service to break in? How clever.

  I gasped when I got my first good look at the man under me. He was taller than Nick by a couple of inches and much broader. Not to mention—was that the edge of a hotel name tag? I frowned as I took in his facial features. His hair was really the only thing similar to Nick’s.

  I was just about to move away when a voice from behind made me squeal.

  “What are you doing?” Leslie asked in shock.

  The cold floor smacked my bottom as I lost my balance and fell back. I grabbed my chest with my free hand. The other hand was still clutching the wine bottle like a lifeline. I turned enough so I could see Leslie standing at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Geez, Les! You scared the shit out of me!”

  Leslie looked me up and down and I imagined what she must be thinking. I was sitting on the floor with my robe hanging open, barely covered in a Rolling Stones t-shirt and black underwear, fullbacks thank goodness, clutching a wine bottle. Next to me was an unconscious male. My stomach twitched and my eyes flickered to the room service cart beside the door.

  “Christ. Did you just knock out the waiter or are you doing something kinky?”

  The figure on the floor started to move. His bonds came loose and he sat up next to me with a loud growl. I squealed, startled at the sudden movement and without thinking, swung the bottle again, clobbering the man across the forehead. Both Leslie and I watched as the man's eyes crossed for just a second before he fell backward with a thump.

  “Shit!”

  “You didn't kill him, did you?” Leslie said, rushing forward.

  My hand shot out. He had a pulse.

  “He’s still alive. Do you think Nick sent him to attack me?”

  “No. He’s room service! I can’t believe that bottle didn’t break.”