Shadows and Sorcery: A Collection of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Adkins, Heather Marie

  How the hell did he know what she was thinking? The man was obviously up to something. Now if she could figure out what it was. What was the old adage? Keep your friends close and all that. Maybe it was better if she stayed around, kept an eye on him. Tried to figure out exactly what he was doing and why. Then she could snatch the potion from him and be gone in a blink.

  It was as good a plan as any. And it was the only one she had. It was time for the role of a lifetime.

  “What is it you expect me to do?” she wanted to know first.

  “The usual. Cleanup, stocking, work an espresso machine. Be polite to the customers who come in. Try not to make a big deal out of their…you know. Eccentricities.” His words rumbled in his chest and sent a delightful shiver down her back. Her fingers, instead of clawing at his arm, took a softer approach until she was nearly stroking him.

  “I’m not going to be expected to take care of the Loch Ness monster, am I?” It was a reasonable question.

  “He hasn’t come in yet, but if he did, yes. I would expect you to treat him with as much kindness and respect as anyone else. If you don’t think you can do it, then I’ll send you slithering back to whatever hole you crawled out of. Gilded or otherwise.”

  They both knew the threat was idle. Oriel, from what she saw of him and her own intuition, wouldn’t hurt a fly. Although, if he moved his arm a half inch higher, her windpipe was toast.

  “Oh, let her go, Oriel,” his sister chimed in, her fumbling footsteps coming closer. What was her name again? Something floral. “She isn’t going to want to work for you. If I were her I wouldn’t want to sign your W2 either. I mean, get real. She’s an actress! She has better things to do than scrub your toilets.”

  “You can board with us until you find a place for yourself. Barring, of course, you don’t already have a hideaway here,” Oriel offered. His grip loosened further.

  “You want a stranger to live with us? It might have its merits…” Jas trailed off.

  Georgia shifted and tried to crane her head to look at him. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Do we have a deal?” he pressed.

  It took her less than a second to agree. “Deal.”

  Oriel released her with such swiftness she stumbled forward. Her hand fell on the doorknob and for the briefest moment, she considered bolting. Getting the hell out of there and away from whatever hornet’s nest she’d disturbed. She could be gone before the bumbling hulk found her and tackled her again. Then again, there was something about his offer, about the soothing way he spoke and the rich cadence of his vowels. It put her at ease. Even the tiniest kernel of peace in her heart was more than she’d been afforded in recent years.

  It also meant a roof over her head and two more people trying to work on the issue of what the hell she exactly was.

  “I’ll do it under one condition,” she finished on a couch.

  His laugh sounded close to her ear and she felt his breath ruffle the soft hairs on her temple. “You’re still trying to bargain. I thought you’d already agreed?”

  It was work to keep her tone even. “I get some of the potion tonight. I haven’t eaten in months and I’m not sure how steady I’ll be if I don’t have it.” As if agitated by the attention, her stomach heaved and a sharp pain traveled from her navel to between her shoulder blades. “Please.”

  She gave him credit. He didn’t ask her where she’d acquired the first batch, of how she’d learned of the potion in the first place. Even if she knew, she wouldn’t tell him. They both knew better. “Agreed,” he spat out.

  The man was big on the one-word answers. That she could tell.

  “Do you have any place to go?” Jasmine asked.

  Oriel’s hand covered hers on the door and Georgia jerked back from the unexpected contact. Then he pulled and at once light from the hallway flooded the room.

  She blinked at the change, watching her limbs become visible again. She thought about the question, and she thought about the various hellholes she’d been squatting in since the accident. She hadn’t felt safe anyplace and never stayed longer than she had to, her hunger pushing her further and further up the West coast.

  “No,” she said decisively. “I don’t have a place to stay. I got into town tonight.” And boy were her legs tired.

  “Then you can stay with us. We have a pullout couch in the living room.” Jasmine blinked innocent eyes at her brother. “What? You were the one who first offered. I happen to agree, it’s a fabulous idea. It will be better to watch her, too.” She offered the last statement like they were on the same page.

  Yeah, right.

  Oriel glanced between the two women for a moment, his face hard, then a mask fell over his eyes. “Jas, take her upstairs. Get her cleaned up. There are clean sheets in the hallway closet.”

  He was out the door before Georgia could question him about the potion. Now that she finally had her arms and legs free, and a spare moment to think, the pain in her abdomen doubled under the attention. It reached out with skeleton fingers to claw at rubs until everything beneath her skin hurt

  “He’s not a big talker, is he?” She leaned against the doorjamb with one arm wrapped around her middle, trying to offer a grin and failing miserably.

  “Not so much. You’ll get used to him soon. Or you’ll learn to tune him out, as I do. Might not say a lot, but everything that comes out of his mouth is lame.” Jasmine took her brother’s order in stride and smiled at Georgia, revealing a gap between her two front teeth. “Come on. I’ll show you upstairs. Just don’t try to tackle me to the ground. I have a delicate constitution.”

  “Somehow I doubt it,” Georgia muttered under her breath.

  “You’d be right to. We all have our secrets, don’t we?” They stepped out into the hallway in tandem and Jasmine took her time perusing the once great actress. “Wow, even with your hair all mussed and dirt on your face, you’re still gorgeous. The cameras did not lie about it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I mean, people think you’re dead! And now here you are, and you’re standing two feet away from me, and you tried to kill my brother…wow. Wow!” Her hands went to her hips and her head cocked to the side, the goofy smile still in place. “Would it be wrong to ask for your autograph?”

  Georgia’s stomach squealed in protest and she felt an urge to run. Run far away before she gave into whatever darkness the pain brought and hurt someone. She had before. “Maybe later,” she said instead. She crunched her knuckles together to keep from reaching out.

  “I’ll settle for later. I’ll settle for whatever I can get, really! I’ve never been this close to an honest to god movie star before.” Jasmine reached out like she was going to touch the other woman, then thought better of it and gestured for Georgia to follow her. “Come on. We have an apartment above the coffee shop.”

  “Is that where we are? In the coffee shop?”

  It looked like a hallway in a warehouse, with stark gray painted cinderblocks and fluorescent bulbs hanging from the tall ceilings.

  “Yeah, it’s an old building Oriel bought downtown. Good location although we’ve had our fair share of issues.”

  “Oriel.” Georgia tested the name. It fit the man, she determined. It was out of the box and unique. Very surfer sasquatch. “Sorry, we never got around to basic introductions. Not while he was hogtying or choking the life out of me.”

  “He can be that way sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I love my brother, but he’s a real pain in the can. He likes things done his way and he doesn’t take anything else into consideration. A real macho man. I’m Jasmine, by the way. Jasmine Justice.”

  She turned around and offered her hand. Who was this young woman, Georgia thought, who put herself into harms way without a second thought? Not that she would do anything to hurt Jas. Still.

  A split second of hesitation saw her slowly extending her hand for a shake. “Nice to meet you. Georgia St. Edmond.” The introduction was redundant in her case. It made for nice m
anners anyway. If she hadn’t offered it, her granny would have risen from the grave to smack the life out of her. Old habits were hard to break.

  “God, I’m touching a movie star. I’m so glad I did my nails earlier tonight.” Jasmine made it to a side door which opened to reveal a rickety staircase leading to the second floor. “I am never going to wash this hand.”

  There was enough raw excitement in the statement to have an answering smile tug at the corners of Georgia’s mouth. It stopped her cold in her tracks. God, when was the last time she’d smiled? Honestly smiled for the joy of it? It had to be two years. Before the accident, because things hadn’t been going well on set and she distinctly remembered the stress. The panic they wouldn’t make their deadline. The exasperation and determination to see it through to the best of her abilities when the odds felt stacked against her.

  The project had been doomed from the start.

  “If you give me a minute to get the spare sheets out of the closet, I’ll make up the bed for you,” Jas offered over her shoulder. “It won’t be what you’re used to, I’m sure. Definitely not five-star accommodations. At least it’s a warm bed and three meals.”

  “Aren’t you worried I’ll go rogue?” Georgia couldn’t help asking. “You don’t know me. Hell, I don’t know me anymore. Maybe I’m a freak of nature. Maybe I’ll kill you in your sleep.”

  Jasmine paused at the door to the upstairs apartment, turning to look at the other woman. There was something distinctly honest in her eyes. “Will you?”

  It gave Georgia pause for yet another reason. She certainly hoped not. “Well, no, but I’m a stranger. One who has a vested interest in stealing something from you.”

  “No one is perfect. Besides, it’s Oriel’s deal with the nullum whatchamacallit, not mine. You want to take it from him, fine. Have at it.” Jas opened the door then stepped aside to let Georgia push past her. “I’m just happy for the extra help. Right now, he has me pulling double shifts because we only have a few members on staff and we’re open twenty-four hours a day. I want a break. Maybe a chance to go out and chill with people my age instead of creepy monsters. Not that you’re creepy or anything.”

  The apartment was cozy. Clean in a way she wouldn’t have guessed for a brother and sister living together, although it lacked the personal touches taking it from house to home. To her left, there was a galley kitchen with white cabinets straight out of the eighties. The laminate countertop was worn but tidy, with rows of jars organizing sugar and flour and coffee.

  Directly across from the kitchen was a couch and a television propped up on a stand. The living room, and dining nook to the left. There were two chairs situated at opposite ends of the table. No placemats. It smelled of hairspray, roasting coffee, pine cleaner.

  She flashed back to the last meal she’d eaten in her own house. More like shoved down her throat because the car was waiting outside to take her to the studio. She’d had five thousand square footage and no time to enjoy it. Too many rooms and nothing to fill them outside of the furniture she’d hired an interior decorator to purchase. She couldn’t remember what the dining room looked like, or if she’d had more than two chairs. Placemats. A centerpiece.

  “The bedrooms are down the hall,” Jas said, raising her voice. “There’s only one bathroom so I hope you don’t mind sharing. It might be small but it suits us, and it’s ours. Well, Oriel’s, because he pays the bills. He calls me the freeloader. Oh, do you need to sit down? You look a little pale.”

  Georgia wobbled on her feet and felt like the blood had rushed to her feet, slipping away through the soles of her shoes. “I’m always pale.”

  Still, she let Jasmine guide her toward the table and plopped down in a chair when her knees felt weak and her head woozy.

  “Here, try to breathe. Deep breaths now.” Jasmine took hold of her head and pushed it down between her legs. “Easy. You must not be used to the cleaner Oriel uses. It’s some kind of industrial grade spray he uses on everything. You’d think he was afraid of germs or something.”

  “It’s not the cleaner,” Georgia answered between gulps, the girl’s hand rubbing circles on her spine. It was everything. How could she even begin to explain?

  She’d fallen so far from where she’d started. She was a completely different person, with a different outlook on life. Was she even legally herself anymore? Technically she did die.

  How could she explain to this stranger that the shared apartment was nicer than any place she’d visited for the last two years? She used to live in a multimillion-dollar house on the Malibu coast. Now she was an outcast. A freak of nature. She wasn’t even supposed to be alive. When she’d run away, she’d gone far and fast, terrified of hurting the people around her.

  And this girl urging Georgia to breathe was showing her the biggest kindness of her life.

  Air hitched in her throat. Refused to travel around the huge lump forming there.

  “Hey, it’s okay. You probably need a shower. I’ll try to find some spare clothes, although I’m a little smaller than you. I don’t have the vavavoom on the chest and hips. It doesn’t really matter. I’ve got some t-shirts that will probably fit. Here.” Jasmine held out her hand and proceeded to tug Georgia to her feet. “Let me help.”

  She hiccupped. “Why are you being nice to me?”

  Jasmine shrugged. “Why not? I have no reason to be mean to you. I mean, I’m a big fan even though I don’t really know you…yet. Besides, from what you’ve said, you’ve had it pretty rough. It doesn’t cost me anything to make up the couch bed and let you take a shower. Does it?”

  Georgia supposed not. She just wasn’t used to it. Nothing came for free. Not even her life.

  The hot water flowing out of the shower head felt like a gift from heaven. She tried to remember the last time she’d taken a hot shower and found her mind a blank. Whenever she’d last done, she took a moment to appreciate the feeling. It took the edge off the pain. The hunger. She could almost forget—almost—that she wasn’t human anymore.

  Jasmine had set aside a shirt and a pair of sweatpants. The girl was right. She was several sizes smaller than Georgia and lean in the way of youth. Lithe and willowy where Georgia was not. It didn’t matter. The clothes were clean and comfortable if a little tight.

  Together they tugged the pillows off the couch before unfolding the bed and dressing it. Despite the shower and the plate of leftover spaghetti offered and devoured, Georgia’s hands trembled. The ache in her stomach was deep and unabating. She tried to nonchalantly ask after the potion. After a few minutes of scrambling around the topic, Jasmine admitted she didn’t know where her brother kept it. Or when he was coming up.

  The feral part of Georgia’s brain was prepared to rip the couch in two. No small feat even for someone like her. The pain threatened to drive her mad. Wild with the inability to do anything.

  She forced those dark urges down and offered a terse smile instead. A pale comparison to the one she used to flash for the cameras. It was enough. Minutes later Jasmine toddled down the hallway into her room. Seconds after that the sounds of punk rock crooned out through the paper-thin walls although the volume was surely turned to low.

  Georgia beat the borrowed pillow because she needed something to do to release a shred of energy. This was it, she thought. This was how it had to be for the next little bit. It was better than the cheap motels and sleazy hostels she’d first stayed in. And when those got to be too chaotic, and her worries over being recognized too loud to ignore, she had taken to sleeping where she was sure no one would find her. She remembered the stink of the gutters and back alleys. Once she would have been terrified of being alone at night. Her first few nights sleeping on the street, she hadn’t been aware of how to protect herself. Men came up and tried to grab her. Tried to tear at her clothing and made lewd remarks on the size of her breasts.

  After the first encounter, she had learned to protect herself. She learned to fight back, to scratch and claw and break bones. Then s
he learned to disappear.

  Oriel came into the apartment some hours later, walking past her on the couch and pausing for a moment to stare at her. At least, she assumed he was staring. She kept her breathing even and pretended to be asleep when his footsteps came to a halt near the dining room table.

  Then he proceeded down the hallway. Saying nothing. Doing nothing. She released her breath and wondered not for the first time what the hell she was doing.

  She must have slept, although she didn’t remember dozing.

  When morning came, she sat up with a stretch and, blinking, her eyes fell on a vial on the table. Glowing blue.

  * * *

  “Have you ever worked a foamer before?” Oriel began. He reached out to retie her apron strings and draw it tighter around her waist.

  Georgia was uncomfortable. No matter how she tried to think of this as a role, a part she was forced to play, she knew it wasn’t, and she’d had no time to prepare. A quick breakfast of coffee with the nullum fame carefully doled out and she was sent down to the shop to begin her first day. Oriel wasted no time in getting her set up on the training fast track.

  The man was a drill sergeant.

  And he was touching her.

  The first sip of the potion had shot through her system like an electric shock. The ache in her belly disappeared immediately and the haze in her mind cleared. She hadn’t even recognized the haze! It was amazing what a few drops could do for her. It eased the aches, erased the pains, and finally, she could think. She could live without fear.

  She could think about how to work the foamer, or so Oriel would have her believe. Maybe he would rather have her think about how to be the best employee she could be. She didn’t have high hopes.

  “I think I can manage a foamer, thank you very much,” she said, keeping her nose raised.

  “An actress who can make her own cappuccino. Now I’ve seen everything.”

  “It isn’t going to be a pleasant working environment if you keep antagonizing me.” She stared hard at the machine and the blinking red light. “This is hard enough without you coming for me.”