Something Wicked

by Robin Moray

  She turned away, then, and Peter considered himself lucky to have escaped so easily, until he walked down the stairs and out into the kitchen and discovered Artemis lying in wait for him. Here we go again.

  The eldest of the Mallorys did not appear at all pleased. "Looking for my brother, then? I don't suppose you're going to apologise."

  Peter blinked at him. "For what?"

  "Oh, I don't know. Ruining all our lives." Artemis gestured sharply, his fingers trailing gold sparks that hung in the air, twinkling and smelling of cloves. "Breaking my brother's heart. He's not much of a witch but he is one. He's sensitive. You can't just seduce him and expect him not to care." The way that Artemis said it, though, and the way his brow furrowed, made it sound as though the entire concept of this was foreign to him.

  "I assure you, I didn't seduce him. And I have expected nothing so base of him." It wasn't quite what he meant, but it would do. "If you'll excuse me, I think I need to have a conversation with your brother. There have been some misunderstandings."

  "Then you're taking him away?" The hurt in Artemis' face was unexpected. He didn't seem to know what to do with it, whether to mask it or turn it into anger. "He wouldn't … but I suppose he'd like that. If he goes with you then he can be normal. Like he's always wanted." And yet, the ragged ache in him was obvious, the delicate grass-and-citrus flavour of his magic tattered with unexpected sorrow.

  But Peter was in no position to comfort him. "Forgive me, I really must speak to Kevin."

  Artemis nodded, flicking his fingers absently. "Go on, then. He's on the roof."

  Peter thought he must have heard that wrong. "I beg your pardon?"

  "The. Roof. He goes up there when he's miserable." And his gaze snapped back to Peter, narrowing sharply. "You should know that. And he sleepwalks when he's stressed, so you have to take care of him."

  Peter nodded. "If he'll permit me, I have every intention of doing just that."

  * * *

  The breeze was fresh and cool and blew over Kevin like a balm, kissing his skin where it ached with flashover. Artemis had made a quick salve for him, but it was going to take more than one layer of St John's Wort and cold cream to stop him from feeling like he'd been sanded all over. Up here with his eyes closed he could pretend, though, that nothing was wrong, that it wasn't in fact everything that was wrong.

  They'd stuffed Cordelia in a mirror (in a locket currently hanging around Bella's neck), they'd saved the kid—Daewon. Peter was alive. Kevin hadn't died or burned out. Remarkably, no-one from the village had noticed the confrontation—Kevin wondered how it would have looked if they had, a bunch of people standing around at a distance from one another waving their hands in the air like weirdos.

  But besides all that, everything was wrong. The coven was broken—except it wasn't, it was obvious how it wasn't, or at least how easily it could be fixed. How easily Kevin had been replaced. He'd heard Bella say that they could clear out the garage for 'someone' to sleep in. He knew exactly what that meant. Artemis hadn't argued. That made it so much worse.

  And why did Kevin need to be replaced? Because he'd gone and given his magic up on a platter to someone who was going to leave him behind. Because he'd thought about it. Peter was a witch-hunter, and Kevin felt certain that any other hunters he knew wouldn't exactly look kindly on him for sleeping with the enemy.

  Plus. Kevin had said 'just this once' and Peter had agreed to it and, oh, how stupid he felt for that.

  You're an idiot, Kevin Mallory. You brought all this on yourself, too, so you can't even blame anyone.

  Except maybe Cordelia. Who was, to be fair, some kind of sociopath.

  He sighed hard, tipping his head back to feel the sun on his face, and tried to ignore how his throat knotted up, how his chest ached, how pathetic he felt. It would pass, eventually. Give it five years, maybe, and he'd probably laugh about it.

  (Though, no. He doubted that. He had a feeling, deep down in places where the magic gathered and lurked inside him, that he'd never get over it. That this, whatever it was, with Peter was It, and ten, twenty, fifty years from now he'd catch a glimpse of honey-brown eyes and be instantly transported back to this morning and how Peter had glittered so beautifully in the light of dawn.)

  A familiar noise broke him out of his reverie; someone was climbing up onto the woodpile. He sighed, and scrubbed at his eyes, resenting whoever-it-was fiercely.

  "Not now, Bells," he groaned, "I'll be down in a bit, I just—" He broke off when Peter's head popped up over the edge of the gutter. "Oh."

  "May I join you?"

  Kevin nodded, and crawled over to help him up. Then he sat back, feeling wretched and awkward and really fucking childish. For fuck's sake, he was twenty-two. What kind of twenty-two-year-old hides on the roof because he's sad?

  Peter, though, dusted his hands off on his pants and then reached for Kevin's, making Kevin acutely aware of the griminess of his own. Peter didn't seem to mind, just took them, smoothing his thumbs against Kevin's palms, Kevin's magic rising up to link effortlessly to the place where Peter's magic would have been, if he had any. It just slid into place now. Kevin would have found it harder not to make the connection than to make it. He supposed that was some kind of horribly irony, and tried not to think about it.

  "You're fretting," Peter said quietly. "Will you tell me what's on your mind?"

  "Nothing." But Peter just looked at him and Kevin had to be honest. "Just … I wish someone wanted me."

  Peter's eyes crinkled in the corners, but he wasn't laughing. "I want you."

  "I know, but I guess … I wish someone needed me. Me. Not just … not just someone." Not just because I was the closest thing they had to what they really wanted.

  Peter swallowed, his grip on Kevin's hands tightening. "I need you. Kevin. Will you look at me?"

  Kevin did, looked up into eyes the warm amber of dark honey lit by the sun. He couldn't speak. His throat was too tight.

  "I have a confession to make," Peter said, all sincerity. "I lied. When you asked me if you could have me."

  Kevin went completely still. "What do you mean?"

  "You said 'one time' and I said 'yes'. But it was a lie. Because I will not be satisfied with one time. I won't be satisfied unless I have you with me always, unless I wake up beside you every morning, sleep in your arms every night." His mouth thinned for a moment, but then he said very quietly, "I lived a half-life before I met you, and it would be a half-life again if I lost you, but worse because now I know how hollow it is. So please, forgive me for the lie. I would be yours always, if you would have me."

  Kevin could hardly breathe, but he managed voice enough to say, "So, I can come with you? When you go?"

  "Maybe." Peter smiled, just a little. "Or maybe I could stay. If you wanted. You belong here, Kevin. This place is as much a part of you as you are a part of it. I've seen how fiercely you love it here. I wouldn't ask you to leave it behind." His smile deepened. "And maybe, if you want to leave, I will come along with you, wherever you want to go."

  It took Kevin a moment to say anything at all. "Don't you have … you know. Responsibilities? Duties? Hunter things?"

  "I think I've earned myself a holiday," Peter said mildly, lifting his chin. "Wouldn't you agree?"

  "Hell, yeah." Kevin couldn't take it anymore; he leaned in. Peter met him halfway, and his mouth was lemon and sugar and cinnamon and coffee, and Kevin had never loved anything more in his life.

  When he let Peter pull away again, Kevin couldn't stop grinning, and it seemed infectious, tugging the corners of Peter's mouth up into a shape Kevin decided he liked. Peter lifted one of Kevin's hands, pressing his mouth gently to the knuckles of it.

  "May I have you, Kevin Mallory? For always?"

  Kevin laughed, because he'd never felt so good. "Yeah. Just for always."

  Epilogue

  Kevin took the car to drop Peter into town, on the condition that Peter would join them for dinner at the house, also to take Da
ewon to the store for, well, anything he needed. And a list of things Artemis needed; apparently tonight was a three-types-of-curry night and there was to be No Arguing about it.

  Kevin didn't mind. Peter was staying for now and nothing else mattered. Plus, Daewon had perked up at the mention of curry, so there was that.

  He eyed Daewon in the car-park. The kid was small, but Kevin got the impression it was 'small for his age' not just small, and he had to ask. "How old are you?"

  "Sixteen," Daewon said after a wary pause.

  Jeez. He looked more like fourteen. "You wanna talk about your family?"

  "No." But the kid kicked at the bitumen, scowling, and said anyway, "My real parents are dead and my fake parents suck. So I left." He looked up, his bitch-face pretty damn impressive. "I'm not going back."

  "All right. You, um. Let's get you a toothbrush and stuff."

  The cover story that Kevin gave in response to the inevitable questions was that Daewon was visiting Haversham on a home-stay program for 'disadvantaged inner city youth', designed to get them out to the country and see cows and things. Daewon rolled his eyes at that so hard Kevin thought he might hurt himself, but at least it distracted people. They managed to get in and out of the store in only about half an hour, which Kevin counted as a win.

  On the drive back, Kevin asked, "Do you even want to stay? Artie and Bella want you to, but you don't have to. It's up to you. I mean, they mean well, but," only he didn't know how to put it. "They'll make all your decisions for you, if you let them. So, if you don't want to, tell me, and I'll, I dunno. Get them off your back."

  He realized that the silence wasn't Daewon ignoring him, but rather Daewon examining him out of the corner of his eye. "Do you want me to go?"

  "No." He didn't even hesitate. "Not if you want to stay. They mean it, too. We all do. You can stay. You're welcome."

  "I'm not stealing your coven?"

  Kevin's hands shuddered on the steering-wheel, because, well, that kind of was what happened. Except—"They weren't mine anymore," he said, in the end. "I'm … I've got Peter, now."

  Daewon relaxed visibly, and then Kevin caught a glimpse of a smile on his face, the first Kevin had seen. "You're gonna be a witch-hunter?"

  It was … well, it was an idea. "Dunno. Haven't thought about it. More a warlock-hunter, anyway."

  Daewon was quiet again, and then suddenly he said, "That was pretty cool. When you," and he made a gesture that left light-trails; already picking up Artemis' bad habits, Great. "With the warlock. Cordelia." He said it with such venom that Kevin was reminded, sharply, that Cordelia had killed the rest of Daewon's coven, one of them only a few nights ago, up on Cairn Hill. "She was so strong. You were really brave. I just ran from her, I didn't … I couldn't fight her. So I hid. But you just," and he sighed, turning his face to the window. "I should have fought her. Maybe if Lea and me did, Lea wouldn't be dead now."

  "Maybe you'd both be dead," Kevin suggested. "You can't know. You did what you had to do. That's all you can ever do, I guess."

  Daewon shrugged. "Do you mind, then? If I … that's what they want from me. Your sister and your brother. They want a third. And if you don't want 'em …"

  And Kevin did, but … if he gave Peter up, if he never saw him again, if he let Bella's magic slowly shape him back toward her then maybe, maybe, one day he'd be back where he started, a shitty witch in a flyspeck of a town in the middle of nowhere, stacking books in a shop no-one ever came into, and so damn lonely it would core out his insides in the end. It wasn't enough, not anymore.

  "Go for it," Kevin said, feeling one future slip away. "They're all right, you know. Good people. Just … I'm no good at magic. They deserve better than me."

  Daewon was looking at him again, skeptical this time. "Right. No good at magic. That's what happened."

  "No, really," Kevin started, but Daewon shrugged it off.

  "Nuh-uh. Whatever you say. Real bad at magic." He muttered something that might have been, 'dickhead', but Kevin decided to let it go.

  When they were back at the Mallory house, Artemis demanding everyone help him chop things for dinner, Kevin decided it was as good a time as any.

  "I'm moving out," he said.

  Bella cast him a worried look, but Artemis just stopped what he was doing long enough to close his eyes, a burst of bitter misery spilling into his aura before he could reel it back in, and then he took a deep breath. "Well. If you must."

  "So, Daewon can have my room," Kevin went on, and this time Artemis looked right at him, with this strange, heartbroken expression that Kevin couldn't honestly understand from him.

  "Oh, Kevin," Bella sighed, patting his shoulder. "You don't have to move out. We can … I was thinking of fixing up the garage."

  "It's all right," Kevin insisted. "Don't worry. Daewon can have my room and you can all, you know. Be a coven together. If that works out, anyway."

  Artemis dropped his knife to the chopping board with a clatter, and covered his mouth with his hand. His eyes were awful above it, stark and horrified. "Kevin," he said eventually, in this terrible fractured voice. "We're not … we can't replace you. Don't ever think that."

  "I know." Kevin shrugged. "I'm your brother. But he needs a coven and you need another witch, and I'm moving out. I thought maybe I could move into Nanna's." He took a deep breath. "And I thought it might be okay if Peter came and stayed with me."

  Bella let out a cry. "Kevin! Oh, you wretch!"

  "What? I figured you'd be happy! Anyway, that way you don't have to listen to us," he added cheekily.

  Artemis pulled a face. "Ugh."

  Bella glared, and glanced meaningfully at Daewon, who seemed largely unconcerned by any of this.

  "Oh, he's sixteen," Kevin argued, "like he doesn't know about sex."

  Daewon grinned, dark eyes impishly wide. "I know about sex."

  "Maybe he doesn't know about gay sex," Bella muttered, but Daewon just sniggered into his sleeve.

  But Artemis had come across the kitchen, tentatively reaching out to put a hand on Kevin's shoulder. "So you aren't leaving?"

  "Not just now," Kevin said, honestly.

  "Good." Artemis nodded, blinking rather too much. "I—that's good. Well." He cleared his throat, glancing about with a frown. "I suppose we should get on with this. Dinner won't cook itself."

  "Would if we were at Nanna's," Kevin said, and then he had to dodge the dishcloth Artemis flung at his head.

  It was nice, even Artemis bossing them about, Bella ruffling Kevin's hair or patting him as she passed. It was nice partly because it wasn't going to go on forever, and he'd probably miss it when he did in fact move out.

  Daewon seemed content to be there. He was clearly exhausted, clearly still wired from the experience of being chased by a warlock and helping to imprison her. And whatever had happened to him before that to put all the wariness in his eyes and to keep him forever glancing at the door. But maybe Kevin only noticed it because he, too, was glancing at the door, albeit for a different reason.

  When the knock came, finally, after an age, Kevin bounded over to yank the door open hard enough that it crashed into the stop.

  "Kevin!" came a yell from deeper inside the house. "Stop crashing!"

  He ignored it, though, because Peter was smiling at him, one hand already up against Kevin's chest. "Good evening."

  "Hi," Kevin said, flattening his palms on Peter's shoulders. He couldn't help the stupid grin that had plastered itself across his face, couldn't help how his heartbeat raced when Peter tugged very gently on his magic. "Um, you should come in."

  "Thank-you," Peter said, "but I'm afraid that first there's something I must do."

  He wrapped an arm around Kevin's waist, pulling him in, and then kissed him and kissed him until Kevin was dizzy and breathless and had to lean on him to stay upright. "Yeah? That it then?"

  Peter smiled, a real, honest, open smile. "For now," he said, and Kevin thought, Yeah. For now.

  And later? Well
, they'd have all of later to work that out.

  About the Author

  Robin Moray loves talking about writing, and writing about romance. Robin lives in a house with a handsome man and a number of handsome teapots. For upcoming projects, follow Robin on twitter @robinmoray or tumblr at robinmoray.tumblr.com. Or, you can write to Robin via therobinmoray@gmail.com.

  Also by Robin Moray

  Bonded to the Alpha

  Bonded mates are rare, and every wolf knows that the killing of a bond-mate is punishable by death. But nineteen-year-old Callum is fully human, woefully ignorant of Pack Law, and when an accidental encounter with a frenzied beta leaves the wolf dead and Callum battered but alive, he finds himself facing the wrath of the pack—until the dead wolf’s mate invokes the right to claim Callum as his own.

  With his life on the line, Callum’s only choice is to bond with the troubled alpha, and carve a place for himself in the pack by any means necessary.

  * * *

  Taking the bond was the worst mistake Nero ever made. But now, with his bond-mate dead, the clock is ticking. He needs to bond again by the full moon, or his next transformation will kill him. That’s all he needs the human for, just a means to an end. At least that’s what he tells himself, but as the bond takes hold he finds himself falling deeper into something he swore he would never do again.

  Table of Contents

  About Something Wicked

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15