Wicked Magic (7 Wicked Tales Featuring Witches, Demons, Vampires, Fae, and More)

by Deanna Chase

  “Weren’t you the one who told me to stay away? So why are you giving me dating advice now?” Flint rubbed her forehead as suddenly every nerve in her body tingled with a warm rush of awareness.

  Cain’s scent lit up her senses like a firework. He walked past them without looking back. But she couldn’t peel her gaze away from his back as he walked up the steps and disappeared beyond the doors.

  Janet’s tiny hands fluttered as she threw them up into the air. Her golden bracelets jingled with the movement. “Yeah, I know. What’s wrong with us, right? But you’re my friend, and I just want to see you smile. He likes you. I just don’t think he wants to, which is why he’s acting the way he does. I know I keep giving you crap about staying away, but it’s because of stuff like this. He’s different. He’ll come to this in his own time, or never. And maybe that’s not so bad.” Her eyes pleaded for Flint to understand.

  But she didn’t understand. She hurt. And it sickened her that she should still care. He’d never pretended to be anything other than a jerk; she was the one with the problem. Expecting him to be something other than himself. She shook her head.

  “Hey girl!”

  The voice brought a smile to her face, lifting her sour mood immediately. Turning, she had just enough time to brace herself for impact right before Abel barreled into her, picking her up around the waist as he twirled with her. The cast was off his arm now, and he only wore a sling.

  “Your arm.” She swatted at his chest.

  “Is fine. It’s healing quick. Like crazy quick. Mom’s been giving me one of her Frankenstein concoctions, and the bone’s already mended.” He frowned at his arm as if he couldn’t quite believe it himself, then he flexed his fingers and smiled before picking her up again to swing her around.

  Yelping, she slapped his chest, very much aware that he was definitely starting to get muscle. Obviously the change was coming quick. Cain had healed quickly from the bruises too. “Put me down.”

  His face shone with laughter. “Missed you yesterday.”

  “Umm, okay.” She smoothed her clothes out when he finally set her down, realizing he’d yet to say hi to Janet.

  Shoulders slumping ever so slightly, Janet waved. “I gotta jet or I’ll miss my class.”

  Abel grinned and waved, then hooked his arm through Flint’s and led her up the stairs. He looked nice today in jeans and a soft cream sweater. He was definitely thicker in the face and chest too. Still skinny, but not the stick she’d first met.

  His dimple was in full relief when he turned his face toward her. “Look.” He stopped them before they walked through the door. The first warning bell rang.

  “We gotta go, Abel, or we’re going to be late, and I can’t afford to piss off Mr. Wickham anymore.”

  He looked her up and down, his molten brown eyes sparkling. “You look really great today, Flint. Green’s a good color on you.”

  “Thanks,” she said softly.

  “So I’m just going to say it, because every time I try to find the perfect opportunity, you’re always rushing off.”

  He took a deep breath and she tilted her head, intuitively knowing what he was about to ask her.

  “Will you go to homecoming with me?”

  A million thoughts ran through her mind at that moment. So many different reasons why she should say no. Because he was a good friend and she wasn’t looking for more with him. Because she was afraid he wanted more from her. Because Janet was crazy for him. But then another thought popped in, sitting in the car with Cain and him telling her he wouldn’t ask her. That they weren’t dating and that she could go with whoever she wanted.

  Janet already knew he was going to ask and she hadn’t told Flint to stay away. Plus, Janet had a date.

  Maybe going with Abel wouldn’t be such a bad thing. They could do it and stay friends. If he tried more, she’d just tell him the truth. Whatever the truth was—she wasn’t even sure what she felt at the moment.

  All those thoughts ran through her head in a blink, and then her decision was made and it was the easiest one she’d made in a while.

  “I’d like that.”

  “Really?” He blinked, as if stunned she’d actually said yes, which only endeared him to her more.

  “I think it would be fun to go with one of my best friends.”

  His grin only grew wider and she was glad. She’d put friend on the table and he didn’t look hurt or annoyed. Maybe this would work out great after all.

  “Awesome. Okay.” He nodded, slipping his good hand into his pocket. “I’ve gotta run. We’ll talk at lunch, cool?”

  She smiled. “Sure.”

  Feeling as if she were floating on a cloud, Flint jogged to her locker, ready to stuff some books in when a paper fluttered to the ground.

  “Huh,” she muttered as she bent to pick it up. The scrawl was immediately familiar. She’d seen it before.

  Meet me in the girl’s bathroom at 8:15.

  ~T

  Frowning, she glanced over her shoulder. Should she really go? Tamara creeped her out, but then again… she’d never actually done anything to her either.

  Worrying her bottom lip, she stuffed the note into her pocket alongside the candy wrapper and ran toward her class, sailing through the door just as the final bell rang.

  Wickham glared at her. “Ms. DeLuca, why am I not surprised? Take a seat quickly.”

  “Yes, sir.” She bobbed her head as she headed to her desk, glancing at Cain from the corners of her eyes.

  He wouldn’t look back at her.

  Dropping into her seat, she glanced at the wall clock. She had five minutes to decide whether to go or not. Debating if she should show the note to Cain, she decided against it. He was ignoring her and she really didn’t want to come off as someone who needed his approval for everything.

  Almost as if he knew what she was thinking, he finally stared at her, his blue eyes full of questions. Glaring at him, she turned away.

  Yeah, it was childish, but she didn’t really care at the moment.

  A minute later she decided.

  “Mr. Wickham?” She raised her hand.

  Cain slouched in his seat, tapping his pencil on the edge of the desk, his long leg poking out from underneath the desk.

  She didn’t know how, but he knew she was up to something.

  “Yes, Flint,” Mr. Wickham said with an air of resignation.

  Tilting her chin up, she ignored her nerves and Cain’s hard stare. “Can I go to the bathroom?”

  He huffed and Cain sat up straight. “You barely make it to my class on time. Those are issues you should take care of before class starts.” He made to turn.

  Mary and some of the other girls at the front of the class giggled.

  Furious that he would dismiss her like that, she did something she probably wouldn’t have done otherwise. Refusing to glance at Cain, she said, “I’m on my period.”

  “Gross,” a guy sitting beside her said.

  Wickham grabbed his nose.

  “Flint?” Cain hissed.

  Oh yeah, he was definitely on to her.

  She pretended she didn’t hear him.

  “Then by all means.” Mr. Wickham waved his hand and jerked back toward the chalkboard, dismissing her.

  Tips of her ears flaming, Flint fished a pad from out of the bottom of her book bag, just in case anyone was watching.

  She could have sworn she heard Cain growl as she walked out.

  Heart pounding so hard it rumbled through her ears, she marched to the bathroom. Why was Tamara contacting her again? Why were the hive no longer in school? What was the queen planning?

  All questions that would soon be answered.

  Opening the door, she scanned the empty bathroom and wondered for a split second if maybe she’d gone to the wrong bathroom and then a stall door opened and the stench of sour milk blasted her nose.

  “You,” she breathed, recognizing the dusky-skinned hive girl immediately. Bloodshot eyes studied her.
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br />   Pulse hammering in her throat, Flint inched back toward the door.

  “You wanted to talk?”

  “Stop.” The girl’s soft voice was a sibilant sound. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

  “I was counting on that. It’s why I even bothered to show up. What do you want?” She grabbed the door handle, ready to throw it open and run if Tamara tried anything. “Why did the royal guard attack me? What do you want from me?”

  “My name is Tamara,” she said, ignoring every question Flint had flung at her.

  “What? I know, you already told me that before.” She stopped, brain stuttering to a halt as she tried to process the nuttiness of this meeting.

  For her part, Tamara looked genuinely surprised, her eyes and mouth widening.

  What game was she playing? Did she honestly not remember?

  Pinching her forehead, Tamara shook her head. “I… sometimes forget things. The… metamorphosis… I…”

  Was she trying to make friends? Was this some crazy hive ritual? Let’s be friends before I kill you?

  Tamara sighed and she squeezed her eyes shut. Her skin was more luminescent that Flint remembered. Before, it’d seemed to be peeling and cracked, now it looked smooth. Even her hair gleamed—it shone like liquid ink underneath the bathroom’s fluorescent lights.

  “Are you going to the dance?”

  Cocking her head, Flint debated just what she should say. “Why are you writing me notes? You said they were watching me, why?”

  Tamara ran her fingers through her short bob. She was fidgety, nervous, gazing around the room as if she was afraid of it.

  Which helped ease Flint’s nerves. Tamara didn’t seem like someone ready to attack her. In fact, she looked as if she was terrified of being caught.

  “I… didn’t…” Tamara blinked rapidly, her clear double eyelids obvious in the face of her nerves. “I’m sorry.”

  Not what she’d expected to hear at all. Flint dropped her hand from the door. “Why did you guys attack me?”

  Tamara’s throat worked furiously, her mouth opening and closing as if she were debating whether to speak or keep silent. Finally she shook her head. “I cannot speak of it. I want you to—” She paused and brushed her hands down her sweater. “I wasn’t always bad,” she finally said. “Are you going to the dance, Flint?”

  “How do you know my name?”

  The second she asked it, she realized how stupid a question it was. They were following her—they probably knew a lot more than just her name. A cold chill swept down her spine. What did she want?

  Clenching her fingers into fists, Tamara took a small step forward. “Ask me the right question.”

  “What?”

  Light snapped in Tamara’s dark eyes, her jaw flexed, and her voice was stronger as she said, “Ask me the right question.”

  The emotions rolling off her were no longer anxious. They were determined, angry. “I came here at great risk to my life. Ask me the right question, Flint DeLuca.” Her face contorted, sharp teeth becoming exposed behind her small lips, the double eyelids blinking rapidly. “Ask the right effing question or I can’t bloody help you!”

  She was close now, moving like a blur, so fast Flint hadn’t even tracked her. Tamara was almost on top of her, her arms extended and fury burning in her eyes. Frozen like prey, Flint just stood there.

  Banging sounded on the door, crackling through the bathroom with an ominous echo and making Flint’s heart jump into her throat.

  “Flint!” It was Cain’s voice and he sounded angry. “I hear it.”

  “Last warning, girl, don’t go to the dance.”

  Flint whirled as the door was shoved open. When she looked back, the window was up and Tamara was gone.

  Cain grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her to him and giving her a fierce hug. His body trembled as she played her fingers up and down his back, and one thing became painfully clear in that moment.

  Whatever was going on between them, it was deep, powerful, and all consuming… for both of them.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “What did she say to you?” Cain asked once they’d walked back into the hallway. He was whispering, looking over his shoulder, knowing they’d probably be caught by a teacher any second.

  He’d searched every inch of the bathroom after their hug, but Flint knew Tamara had disappeared out the window, probably the same way she’d snuck in.

  Hooking her hair behind her ear, she shook her head. “Nothing really.”

  “Flint.” He tipped her chin up with his thumb and her skin tingled with a rush of blood. His eyes searched hers, his mouth turning down into a tight frown. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I do care, okay. And I’m not pretending. If I wasn’t so consumed with your safety, I’d take you to that dance. I don’t want to be anywhere you’re not. Do you believe that?”

  His large hands framed her face.

  It was more than she’d ever expected him to say, to admit out loud. Sometimes it was easy to believe he didn’t care at all, but then he’d do or say something like this that just knocked all the air from her lungs, and it made it impossible to think around the fuzz shorting out her brain.

  She turned into his palm, planting a kiss on it. He sucked in his breath sharply, thumb gliding along the length of her cheekbone.

  “She didn’t touch you?”

  “No, I told you. She didn’t really do anything.” Grabbing his wrists, she held tight, stomach a twisted mass of knots.

  He stepped in close to her. “If she had…” His throat worked hard on a swallow.

  Tracing her finger along the length of his lower lip, she shook her head. “It’s okay, Cain. I’m okay. She only asked me if I was going to the dance.”

  Light rimmed his eyes. “Why?”

  She shrugged. The air between them sizzled, burned, seeped into her flesh, and made her shiver. He was staring at her the way she’d sometimes caught her dad staring at her mom. It was her turn to swallow hard.

  “Right before you came in, she told me not to go, and then she ran away. I don’t know.”

  Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against hers, just breathing slow and easy. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she stood there, content to never move. He smelled so good and this felt so right.

  Like fate had planned this from the very beginning. Two opposing forces gathering momentum and speed, like two comets barreling through dimensions, headed for a collision, and nothing could stop them. It was violent, epic, and undeniable.

  Then he was nuzzling her neck with his nose and she could barely remember her name.

  A loudly clearing throat made Flint snap her eyes open.

  Sara—Wickham’s favorite pet—eyed them behind her thick glasses. “Dry-humping by the bathrooms. Seriously?” She rolled her eyes. “You’re just lucky it was me and not Wickham. I’d suggest you get back to class soon before he comes and you get slammed with detention again, Flint.”

  Tossing her thick blond ponytail over her shoulder, she bumped Flint’s shoulder and walked into the bathroom.

  Cain surprisingly didn’t growl. Instead, he dropped his arm over her shoulder and gave her a quick squeeze.

  “If we go back at the same time he’ll know something was up. You go first.” He touched her cheek.

  “Okay.” She let her hand slide along his as long as she possibly could and then walked back, still feeling unsettled by her meeting with Tamara and what it could possibly mean.

  ~*~

  School passed in a blur. She’d expected to see Cain at their lunch table, but he hadn’t shown and she hadn’t seen him the rest of the day after Wickham’s class. Abel, on the other hand, had been animated and Janet really quiet.

  Which made Flint think she’d been stupid to say yes after all.

  Rhiannon snapped the radio on. She was driving her mother’s car, a silver Honda. Flint had had no idea Rhi already knew how to drive, but she was glad to see Whispering Bluff fade into the rearview.
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  She needed to think, about everything, and she didn’t want to have to do it around any of the guys. Janet was sitting in the passenger seat, staring out the window, noshing on a Twizzler stick.

  Flint shoved the last bite in her mouth.

  “Seriously, y’all.” Rhi glared at her in the mirror. “Tension’s thick. This was supposed to be fun and I’m not having fun, so either say whatever it is you guys need to say or get out and I’ll go shopping by my own self.”

  Blowing air through her tightened lips, Flint tapped her fingers on her thighs. “Janet, I’m sorry.”

  “For?” she asked, but her voice dripped with sarcasm.

  So it was going to be like this. Groaning, Flint dropped her shoulders. “You were the one who told me he was going to ask.”

  Janet twisted in her seat, her brown eyes alive with anger. “That didn’t mean you were supposed to say yes.”

  Flint threw up her hands in a placating gesture, scooting as far back into the seat as she possibly could.

  “What are you doing?” Janet asked, her brows drawn tight with confusion.

  “I’m sorry, okay, but you kind of freak me out when you get angry. I’ve seen what you guys can do. I’ll call him and tell him no if you want.”

  “Oh em gee…” Rhi giggled.

  Flint’s eyes were wide, not finding the funny in the situation.

  “Bet you’re thinking we’re driving you out to the boonies to eat you,” she finished with a snort.

  Okay, no… the thought hadn’t crossed her mind.

  Before.

  Janet’s lips twitched, and then finally she burst out laughing.

  “Not funny,” Flint grumped.

  Janet wiped tears from her eyes. Rhi on the other hand was still snickering.

  “No, I guess it’s not. I wasn’t going to go demon on you, Flint. I can control myself.” She wiggled her wrists. The chime of her bracelets soothed Flint’s nerves better than her words did.

  “Yeah, well… I’m trying to learn how to deal with you guys. Forgive me if I’m not quite there yet.”

  “Why’d you say yes?” There was such hurt in her eyes that for a moment Flint really did want to fish the cell out of her pocket and call it off with Abel.