“I’m with Amanda,” Bonnie says.
Jesse nods. “Me too.” He faces his brother and smiles. “Think it would be best if we stayed at Lady Amelia’s. With the cops on your ass and all.”
“Lady Amelia, huh?” Alex sounds unsettled.
Bonnie turns the key in the ignition and the Mustang roars to life. “Who the hell is Lady Amelia?” she asks, backing out of the driveway.
“She runs a B&B in Cross Hill,” Jesse explains.
Bonnie glares at her reflection in the rearview mirror. “Sounds good. I could really use some beauty sleep.” Bullshit. Bonnie’s skin looks as smooth as ever and there are no signs of bags under her eyes.
Alex nudges my leg. “There’s something you guys should know.”
“What should we know?”
“Lady Amelia is…was…a—”
“Hunter,” Jesse finishes for him.
The jarring sound of the brakes howls through the car as Bonnie stops it in the middle of the road. “Are you off your rocker? We are not going to spend the night in a hunter-owned B&B.”
Jesse tries his famous I-can-melt-your-heart smile on my best friend. “Relax,” he says. “Amelia is cool. She’ll understand.”
****
Understand my ass. The instant Bonnie and I crossed the threshold, a hunting rifle points at us.
“Alexander Ethan Remington,” the gray-haired, tattooed woman yells. “You’re nutty as a fruitcake if you think I’ll let those…those witches stay in my house.” She might be old, but her posture says: fuck with me, and I’ll shoot your ass.
Jesse tries to sooth her with a calming gesture. “Would you calm down?”
Pulp Fiction Granny shifts the rifle’s shaft back and forth between Bonnie and me. “You ain’t gonna tell me when to calm down, son. This is my fucking house. My fucking rules. Clear?”
Alex takes a step toward her. “We understand, Amelia, but it’s an emergency.” He’s close enough to yank the rifle out of her hand, but she’d still have enough time to shoot at least one of us.
The scar on my chest itches, and I feel the overwhelming urge to run. “We’re not your enemy,” I assure her, not taking my eyes off the rifle.
She eyeballs Alex. “What kind of emergency justifies working with witches?”
Bonnie’s face slips into a frown. “The one where his soul will be dragged to hell in nine days unless we save his sorry hunter ass.” Her voice is so even, no one would guess she’s talking to a woman with a rifle pointed at her heart.
Amelia gawks at Alex. “Explain,” she orders, slightly lowering her gun.
Alex’s lips stay sealed. Jesse takes matters in his own hands. “Alex sold his soul, Amelia. We have nine days to get him out of this deal, or he’ll end up as some demon’s bitch.”
Pulp Fiction Granny’s shoulders sink. She studies Alex closely. “That true, Alexander?”
Alex’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “He pretty much nailed it.”
“You made a pact with the devil, and now you think his whores will help you?” There’s so much hate and disgust in the words, it’s hard to ignore. “You’re a hunter, Alexander, you should know better than to trust those obnoxious creatures.”
Bonnie lunges forward, ready to hit Amelia in the face. “I’ll show you ob—”
“Enough.” Jesse holds B back. Then, he faces Amelia. “These girls are our friends. You won’t to talk to them like that. Understood?”
Bonnie’s eyes burn brighter than Sirius itself. She’s had a thing for Jesse since the moment she, half-naked, bumped into his chest. But standing up for us gained him her respect, the most important thing for her.
“He’s right,” Alex says to my surprise. “Hate it all you want, but they are our friends.” He stands next to Jesse. “You wanna shoot them? Gotta shoot us first.”
Oh. My. God. First Perfect Housewitch offers her help, and now Alex goes against another hunter for us? For witches? Either I’m on Shutter Island, or he’s been Facultied. In other words: controlled by otherworldly parasites.
Amelia thinks it over then puts the rifle on the reception desk. “I can’t believe you,” she mutters, hands dropping to her sides.
Alex shakes his head. “Don’t care. This is a hunter B&B, and we are hunters. So can we stay or not?”
Hunters—like witches—have a code. Their most important rule is to always help a brother or sister in need. Good old Amelia doesn’t have much of a choice. “All right. You can stay, but there are rules.”
Alex gestures for her to continue.
She holds up a finger. “One, you will share a room. Can’t have those witches roaming freely in my house. Two”—another finger comes up—“if they try anything, I’ll personally send them to purgatory.” Her voice is as cold as ice, and I get the feeling she’s secretly praying we’ll mess up.
Alex nods in agreement.
“And”—a third finger shoots in the air—“no magic in my house.”
I look at Bonnie. “Damn, B. Guess that means child sacrifice will have to wait till tomorrow.”
Amelia clenches her hands and moves to the reception. “You can stay in Miss Daisy’s room. It’s big enough for all of you.”
Glaring at her back, I think of Hedwig, the mambo who’d treated Alex, a hunter, with as much respect as she treated her own kind. Amelia could really take a page from her book.
We follow her up the stairs to the last room on the left. Without a word, she unlocks it. Jesse, Bonnie, and Alex walk in.
I try to follow, but Amelia holds me back. “I know who you are,” she whispers. “If you hurt that boy again, witch, I will push a dagger through your evil heart. Understand?”
I want to ask her what the hell she’s talking about, but when I see the repulsion in her pale, gray eyes, I yank my hand out of her grip and slam the door in her face.
I hate hunters.
Chapter 18
I looked over my shoulder. Glowing red eyes were only a few feet behind me. I sprinted past the king-sized iron gates of the cemetery, straight into the woods.
The creature was fast. Faster than any dog I’d ever seen. The muscles in my legs jerked as I picked up speed. Branches snapped beneath my feet. The cold wind beat violently against my face.
The beast howled as it chased me through the woods. Its paws galumphed over the dried soil, heading straight toward me. Don’t stop. It’s going to get ya.
I’d faint if I kept up the speed. Hiding behind a tree, I braced my hands on my knees and tried to breathe. Every time I drew in some air, it felt as if someone was stabbing me in the chest.
“Manda?” Alex? Impossible. He’s dead. “Manda, please. Help me.” His voice echoed off the trees. Don’t. It’s a trick. “Why won’t you help me, Manda?” He sounded so weak and vulnerable, it fucking killed me.
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. The rational side of my brain urged me to get the fuck outta there, but this was Alex screaming for help. I couldn’t turn my back on him.
I pressed my thumb into my sweaty palm, hoping the pain would chase away the fear. It didn’t. I stepped away from the safety of the tree. “Alex?” I whispered.
He stood a few feet away, face pale, eyes misty. “Please, help me,” he said as the blood-thirsty creature strode out of his shadow like a hungry panther.
Told ya it’s a trick.
I looked from the beast to Alex. If I ran, the thing would rip me apart. A scene from Django Unchained flickered across my mind’s eye, and when the dog-like creature bared its teeth, I decided I had no intention to end up like poor d’Artagnan.
I forced my spine straighter. “Good dog,” I said, approaching it slowly. “I won’t hurt you and you won’t hurt me, right?”
The beast bent its head slightly, and when it didn’t jump me, I took another step in Alex’s direction.
“Can you get me outta here?” Alex’s panicked voice drew the bloodhound’s attention to him.
No way the both of you will get outta here alive.
I hated the voice in my head, especially when it was right. “Listen to me,” I said, meeting Alex’s bleak eyes. “It can only chase one of us.”
As if it understood what I said, the beast’s red eyes slid from Alex to me.
“If I say run, you will run. Got it?”
Alex glared at the hellhound and shook his head. “I won’t leave you.”
I took a deep breath and smiled. “Yes, you will. You will run, and you won’t look back.” I swallowed the glass shards in my throat and took another step toward the beast but kept my eyes trained on Alex. “I’m a witch, remember? I can take care of myself.”
“I-I…Shit.”
I closed the little gap between the dog and me, and when I had its full attention, I shouted, “Run, Alex. Run.”
He did, and I threw my whole weight onto the creature, wrestling it to the ground. It was a fight I was destined to lose. The beast pinned me down, its red eyes only inches from mine. The distinct smell of sulfur stung my nostrils as its breath beat against my face.
You’re fuckin’ crazy, I told myself as sharp teeth penetrated the skin on my neck.
“Amanda!” Alex screamed from a distance.
It was too late. I’d taken his place, and the creature was merciless.
****
I yank my eyes open. There’s no forest. No beast. Just Miss Daisy’s room.
Another nightmare. Great.
I wipe the sweat off my forehead and sit up. A glow from the silvery moon penetrates the windows, casting an unearthly light over the dark room. I pull my shaking knees to my chest and focus on Bonnie’s snoring to calm my heart. She’s spread over the full length of the bed, sleeping peacefully. They all are. Alex and Jesse are curled up on the other bed. End credits of The Omen roll over the TV screen. We must have all drifted off while watching the movie.
Drained from the fucking nightmare, I get on my wobbly feet. My damp tank-top and yoga pants stick to my skin. Drops of sweat course down my collarbone. All I want is a hot shower to wash my messed-up emotions away, but while staggering toward the bathroom, I freeze. A spine-chilling howl echoes off the walls.
Am I still dreaming?
I scan the room, looking for the beast, prepared to get attacked by its sharp teeth. There’s nothing.
Your mind’s playing tricks on you.
I inhale sharply. These nightmares are fucking with me. I need to get a grip. I take another step and the TV starts flickering. White noise rings through the darkness. Another howl thunders through my ears. The door leading to the hallway clicks open.
What the fuck?
I’ve seen enough horror movies to know what happens if I’m dumb enough to walk out of this room. Always bitched about the stupid blonde chick who got herself killed because she didn’t understand the rules in her genre, but when I spot a creepy shadow through the ajar door, my feet take on a life of their own.
Don’t do this.
Too late. I’m already in the hallway. The shadow is gone. Several dim bulbs on the walls flicker. An electric buzz charges the air.
This ain’t good.
The scent of brimstone crawls into my nose. I shake like a leaf as a pair of hellish eyes appear at the far end of the long hallway. One second, I’m looking right into them. The next they’re gone.
Go back in the room and wake the others.
Muffled voices roar through the house. My heart beats fast in my chest. I follow the sound nevertheless. Digging my nails into my palms, I round a corner and head down the stairs. The golden chandelier in the lobby swings back and forth.
There’s no draft.
The voices grow louder. I tiptoe to the dining room and hide behind the door frame.
“I can’t believe they brought them here,” a man with a deep, husky voice says.
“We should kill her while we can,” another one says.
“No,” Lady Amelia barks. “You won’t start a hunter war in my house.”
A chair moves. “This is madness. You know what they say about her.”
“I do,” Lady Amelia assures him. “But the Remingtons are still hunters, and she’s with them.”
I guess it’s a fair assumption they’re talking about Bonnie or me.
“The Remingtons?” The one with the husky voice laughs. “Are you really trusting Alex’s judgment when it comes to this whore? He’s blinded by her.”
Nope, not Bonnie. Me.
“He’s right,” the other says. “Alex has heard the rumors. He had dozens of chances to end her, but—”
“Enough.” Amelia raises her voice. “She’s not to be touched. Anyone who does will answer to me. Clear enough?”
Boots walk across the wood floor in my direction. “You’re as crazy as they are,” Husky Voice grumbles.
I have no idea what rumors they’re talking about. But I’m certain about one thing—if they find me here eavesdropping, I’m a dead witch. I spin on my heels, my hip knocking into a lamp. I catch it before it falls.
“What was that?” Amelia asks, alert.
“Don’t know.” Husky Voice is on high alert.
The safety on a gun is removed. “Let’s find out,” the other man suggests.
Panic settles in. No freaking way I can outrun them. Terror overrides the natural flight instinct, keeping me at the spot.
I’m dead. I’m so fuckin’ d—
A hand covers my mouth. I want to bite. Scream. Fight. I’m in a death grip, being hauled into a closet.
It’s dark. I can’t see a thing. Clawing the stranger’s arm, I struggle to free myself.
“Manda, calm the fuck down.”
Alex?
“I’m going to take my hand off your mouth, but you have to be real quiet. Can you do that?”
The second I realize it’s Alex, and not some demon or hunter who wants to kill me, I relax and nod.
“Anything?” Husky Voice barks outside the closet as Alex slowly removes his hand.
“No,” Amelia replies. “Check the upper floor.”
Boots rush up the stairs. Then there’s silence.
Alex’s hot breath tingles on my skin. He spins me around. It’s too fucking dark to see his face. “Are you suicidal? They would have killed you.” He sounds scared. My hand rests on his chest. I feel his heart racing beneath it. He is scared.
I should thank him for saving my sweet ass, but I’m too vexed. “You don’t say. Thought they’d ask me to join their PJ party.”
I can tell he’s frowning. He always does when I annoy him. “What the hell are you doing down here?” He’s so close his lips brush the corner of my lips.
I want to ask him about the rumors his hunter pals mentioned, but all of a sudden the closet is too fucking small. Alex is too damn close. Panic creeps over me. Not the kind I felt minutes ago. The one only hunter-heroic can cause.
I try to step back. His strong hands hold me in place. “Manda?”
His touch sparks a fire in my stomach, and those flames burn hotter than hell. “I-I…” I can barely breathe, let alone talk. “H-Heard something.”
“You should have woken us up.” He takes my face in both hands and sighs. “You should have woken me up.”
I should have. That way I wouldn’t have ended up in a fucking closet with him. I suppress the butterflies in my belly and clear my throat. “Can we go now?” I whisper, fighting the need to take possession of his delicious mouth.
“They’re searching the house. We gotta stay put for a while.”
I hear the creaking of the upper floor. But I begin to wonder if taking my chances with three murderous hunters would be less fatal than being stuck here with Alex.
“Relax.” His voice is softer. “They ain’t gonna hurt you.” He brushes his thumb over my lips. “I won’t let them.”
It’s when he says stuff like that I consider the dissociative personality disorder theory to be true. Less than forty-eight hours ago, he raised hell when Jesse suggested I was his soulmate. Now he’s hiding me in a closet so his
kind won’t kill me.
He cups my cheeks. “Manda?”
My chest rises and falls quicker than a rocket. Don’t even get me started on my treacherous heart. I press my back against the wall. “Hmm?”
He slides his hand under the edge of my shirt. I flinch as his warm fingers touch my belly. “Can I ask you something?”
I swallow the desire to rip his shirt off and nod.
He thrusts one leg between mine. “Do you have a bucket list?”
I try not to think about the throbbing sensation in my panties. “No,” I croak. “Do you?”
His hand travels up my stomach, stopping right under my bra. “Not exactly,” he whispers. “But if I did, this would be on it.”
Having a mind of its own, my body arches against his hand. “Being stuck in a closet?”
“Being stuck in a closet with you,” he corrects.
I didn’t know it possible for him to lean in farther, but he does. “Promise me something, Manda.” He draws circles on the skin under my two ladies. “If this whole soulmate shit ain’t gonna work, this is how we’ll spend the last day of my life.”
Soulmate. The word hits me like a roundhouse kick. We’re stuck in the closet of a hunter B&B because we’re looking for Alex’s fucking soulmate. The love of his life. My brain takes over. I push him away.
“Whoa,” he says. “What’s with you?”
I want to screw a guy who’s looking for another girl. That’s what’s with me. “Stay back,” I warn when I feel him coming closer again.
“Manda.” He sounds bewildered. “You on drugs? Why the sudden change of heart?”
“Was on drugs,” I say, crossing my arms. “Now I’m clear as day.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He raises his voice, obviously no longer concerned about Lady Amelia or the other two assholes.
It means I’m not the kinda girl who takes a back seat. “Nothing,” I snap. “Just stay the hell away from me until we’re outta here, all right?”
Chapter 19
Eight days to hell
Bonnie points to the vibrating phone in my lap. “You not gonna get that?”
“No,” I snap as Jesse pulls into Diana’s driveway. I’ve had enough douchebag trouble for a millennium. No need to get some more from DeLuca.
Soulmates Page 15
