Magic and Mayhem: Show Me the Wicked (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Wicked Hearts Book 2)

by Cherie Marks

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Robyn Peterman. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Magic and Mayhem remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Robyn Peterman, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Two arms stretched out to either side of my head, hands against the wall, blocking me in, and the whole situation made my heart pound so loudly that I heard it in my ears.

  “Who the hell are you really?” Finn’s harsh whisper came out of the dark, and I was both scared and thrilled at the same time.

  “What? I don’t know what you’re asking?”

  “I’m asking you to tell me who you really are and why you’re here?”

  I glanced to my right. Down the hallway, I could make out silhouettes of decorative pictures and a small table with a vase at the end. My breathing had become rapid, but I didn’t want him to know just how rattled I was.

  “Is this how you spit game, son? Because it might be time to work on your finesse. It kind of sucks.”

  He leaned in closer, until I had to turn my head back toward him, and I didn’t dare focus anywhere else but directly at him. I could feel the heat coming off his body, and I had to wonder where this was going.

  “Time to get serious. Who…are…you?”

  How did I tell him who I was without telling him who I was? I had amnesia after all…at least as far as he knew.

  “My name is Cara. I mean…I might have a brother, and I might have spent some time in California. That’s all I know for sure.”

  He growled low. “I don’t know whether to rip you apart or…kiss you breathless.” He moved even closer, his lips only inches from mine. “For some reason I can’t fathom, I’m drawn to you.”

  I pulled in a quick breath at his surprising confession. Well, helllooo, unexpected! The nervous energy in my body began pinging like spilled ball-bearings rolling out of control. Was he closer still? My heart pounded rapidly as I felt my face flush. It felt like a kiss was imminent, and I couldn’t decide if I was turned on or freaked-the-hell-out.

  Show Me the Wicked

  By

  Cherie Marks

  Acknowledgements

  Edited by the incomparable Teresa M. You literally make it all better.

  I could not do this without my family’s support! Thank you for giving me the time to rock another one out. You make it all worth the late nights and early mornings. It’s always for you.

  Once again, thank you, Robyn, for giving me this opportunity. It’s been a blast, and I can’t wait to do it again!

  Dedication

  To those dreamers out there who didn’t have the best start in life but never let that stop you. Always keep striving. This one’s for you.

  Chapter 1

  It was the only way.

  He was making the right decision.

  Wasn’t he?

  He looked down at the baby in his arms, sleeping peacefully as he walked briskly through the rain-soaked streets. She was blissfully unaware of his torment, and his heart ached with the thought of what he had to do. Not even hours old, and her short life was over before it had begun.

  But it was how it had to be.

  Again, it was the only way.

  He couldn’t break the curse any other way, and if he wanted a life, he couldn’t exist with the curse any longer. It left him with no choice. He’d done everything he could to find another way, but everywhere he’d searched had come back as a dead end.

  The only way.

  She stirred in his arms, letting out an airy sigh, causing a tightening in his already constricted chest. She was everything perfect and beautiful with her short, blonde curls and smooth skin, and he had trouble looking away from her button nose and pouting lips. If her eyes opened in that moment, he might find handing her over flat-out impossible.

  It already was, but he was at the end of his rope. Most of his life, he’d done everything he could to dodge the whole family thing. It just wasn’t for him. Then, he’d met Bibby, and the inevitable happened. He’d fallen in love. Still, he’d expressed to her the importance of no children. She’d seemed disappointed, but he’d thought she’d understood. They’d been happy together, despite the curse. It had been more tolerable with someone in his life. Yet, it was always in the back of his mind how it had to end. He’d tried everything else he could imagine to avoid this very night, but from the moment Bibby had told him she was pregnant, he’d known the countdown had begun. He’d known the consequences.

  Either he gave his first-born to Mr. Gambrol or the curse would play out, and he’d lose someone he loved anyway. He glanced up to a blurry landscape in front of him. With a swipe of his hand, he cleared away the otherwise unacknowledged tears. No other way.

  He knew the truth about the situation though. By handing over his newborn daughter, he was proving what a grade-A, excellent bastard he really was. Warlocks were naturally self-absorbed, but this was pushing the limits of even the worst characteristics of all the magical beings. How selfish of a warlock could he be?

  Yet, in reality, no matter which way he went, he was in a no-win situation. According to the curse, he either gave up his daughter or he gave up the one he loved most in his life. That could only be Bibby. Neither one would ever be an easy choice. The loss of either would be devastating.

  Around a corner, he turned and glanced down the tree-lined street. He slowed. The large brownstone where he was supposed to hand the baby over stood at the very end. An ominous, black door loomed at the top of a set of stone steps.

  He dropped his gaze to the cherubic face almost hidden by the folds of the blanket. Something important had just occurred to him. His feet dragging now, he continued forward slowly. The unhappy truth sank in. By giving up his firstborn, he was giving up Bibby’s too. He certainly hadn’t asked for her agreement. As far as he knew, she didn’t know anything about the curse, and he’d hoped to keep it that way, but now that he was approaching the stairs, he understood the damage he would cause with this one choice.

  His gaze lifted to his destination. Would she ever be able to forgive him?

  He was sure he knew the answer. No. This was unforgivable, and he knew it. If he didn’t hand over their daughter, he’d lose Bibby forever. Yet, if he did, he’d still lose her. Nothing about it was fair.

  He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and focused on the closed door. He was so close to the end of his personal misery, but it seemed to be worthless if by doing this, he lost the two things in this world that meant anything to him.

  What could he do though? Assuming he’d never find love and happiness in his life, this was not a situation for which he had ever prepared. He didn’t know which action to take.

  Then, suddenly, he did.

  He was the cursed one. He was the problem. Without him, maybe Bibby and the baby could live and be fine. It would kill him to walk away, but in the end, the other options were worse.

  His eyes slid closed as he pulled air in through his nose and released it slowly. Decision made, he took one last look at the door and, with a clench of his jaw, turned and began running back down the street. He’d take the baby back, and he’d leave them both behind.

  It would work. It had to. The alternative was unbearable…even for a self-centered, asshole of a warlock like him
self.

  They’d be safer without him. He’d walk away and never look back, for all their sakes.

  It was for the best. He didn’t want anyone else to suffer for his double-damned curse.

  It was now the only way.

  Chapter 2

  Twenty-Seven Years Later

  Stupid luck!

  Trapped. This should’ve been the greatest con of my career. Instead, in the middle of cracking a safe, a ceiling tile had fallen on my head, I’d gotten knocked out, and, consequently, I’d gotten caught. Now I was waiting to find out my fate. The question was whether these creeps would hand me over to the authorities, or if they’d just torture me for the rest of my unlucky life.

  Dammit! I hated sitting here scared. I’d been here for hours, looking at the dingy, gray concrete-block walls with randomly placed black marks, as if something…or someone…had been scraped hard across those blocks. It only served to remind me how screwed I really was.

  Turned out, there were worse things than death. Way worse things—like being cursed for all eternity for a crime I didn’t commit. Like they’d care about that. Like the vampire would even listen to me.

  I blew out a strained breath and yanked on the restraints around my wrists, locked onto the metal table in front of me. They rattled tauntingly, but as before, there was no give. I tried a quick jinx under my breath, but, again, got no results. These restraints were obviously made specially to withstand magic. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t see a single way out.

  The door opened with a loud whoosh behind me, and I stiffened automatically. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but things were about to begin, and I plastered my usual smile to get ready for whatever came.

  “Carissandra Reed, otherwise known as Carissa or, maybe, it’s Cara? You’re a woman of many names, aren’t you? I just have one question for you. What do you want for dinner?”

  As I swiveled my head slowly to meet his gaze, hidden by a pair of darkened sunglasses, I knew my confusion was evident. The closed-mouth smile dropped from my lips. Dinner? I stared at his orange-tinged face, feeling every bit of my shock. Vincent Gambrol, infamous crime boss, had just asked what I wanted for dinner. What could he possibly mean by that? Clearly, I wasn’t being turned over to the authorities, which meant they’d handle my consequences themselves. Why feed me if they were just going to kill me? Unless, they weren’t.

  Maybe it was the beginning of my torture. Feed me a final meal, laced with some toxin that made me writhe for hours. Well, I’d flat-out refuse to eat. They would have to force it down my throat because in no way would I aid him in his plan to hurt me.

  He walked over to the table and sat down on the other side, a dangerous, closed-mouth smile on his lips. If he’d opened his mouth just a tad, I’d see the frightening fangs that were a sure sign of the vampire he was. He worked so hard to hide it otherwise, but I knew the truth. Despite his orange-hued complexion, created with self-tanner, no doubt, he was a centuries-old vampire who was now the head honcho of a vast criminal network. As usual, my luck had run out. Of course, if I were honest, since birth, luck had always been my enemy.

  “Well? What will you eat? I’d prefer a juicy, rare slab of beef, but I happen to love the taste of blood. You, on the other hand, probably don’t.”

  “Nothing. I’m not hungry.” If he were trying to scare me, it was working. I watched him warily, my breeziness fading fast as I braced for the blow that was sure to come.

  “Oh, well, that’s too bad. The guys were sending out for Asian food. Just wondered if you had a preference. Guess they’ll just go for the Thai place down the street.”

  How had he known Asian was my favorite? Specifically, Thai food.

  “Sure you don’t want something?”

  I shook my head and dropped my gaze to the restraints on the table. What was going on here? This was beyond bizarre. Instead of berating me for infiltrating their organization and nearly getting away with a very valuable jewel, they were trying to feed me. I didn’t know what was going on, but I didn’t trust it one little bit.

  If I was dead anyway, why drag this out any longer than it had to be? I might as well throw my hands up, metaphorically, of course, considering the metal locked around my wrists, and move the process along. I planted the smile back on my face and cocked my head to the side. If I could’ve, I would’ve started twisting one of my curls and batting my eyes flirtatiously. It was conning 101. Draw them in before you make them give you what you want. I held his gaze and, in my sultriest voice, honestly stated, “I want my freedom.”

  His laugh was anything but humor-filled as he explained, “You haven’t been free for a long time, and, considering recent events, that’s not going to change anytime soon.”

  And there it was. My smile fell away again. His words suggested he knew just a little too much about me. “Why haven’t you turned me over to the authorities yet?”

  He rubbed a hand over his chin, a look in his eyes that said he knew much more than he was revealing. “Why do you think?”

  “You plan to torture me yourself?” Though he presented himself to the world as an upstanding bank manager, I now knew otherwise. He was as criminal as they came. It was one of my prerequisites when choosing my marks. I chose him precisely because he was a douchebag. It assuaged some of my guilt for stealing from a chosen mark.

  Another humorless laugh. “No, Carissa. Despite what you’ve heard, I’m not a complete monster. Did you attempt to steal from us? Yes. Is there a price for your actions? Of course. But don’t expect it to be something twisted and unbearable.”

  Confusion took hold of me again. This was almost…too good to be true. “What will you expect from me to make things right?”

  “You will work for me. More specifically, you’ll use your specific set of skills to get items I desire.”

  “And why would I do that? I think I’d rather just be tortured to death, thank you very much.”

  “Well, I think that would be a huge mistake. Correct me if I’m wrong, but it was my understanding that your brother needs you to remain alive and take the consequences of the curse that should be his to carry. Isn’t that correct? Otherwise, he’d have to bear his own punishment, right?”

  My heart dropped. Maybe the con had been run on me this time. “How do you know about that? How do you know about my brother?”

  He physically relaxed, and I cringed realizing just how up the freaking creek I really was.

  “Oh, we’ve gathered so much information about you and your family. It’s been eye-opening, and good thing for you. It’s your saving grace. It’s made you extremely valuable to us.”

  And why wouldn’t it? Once again, I was only good for one thing—what I could do for others. The story of my life. As usual though, someone had me all wrong. “What do you think you know?”

  “Such interesting stuff.” He leaned toward me. “Did you really take on a curse for your brother? I mean, I don’t know if I’ve ever cared for anyone that much.”

  And I’d been paying for it every day since. That’s what love did for you. Got you in places like this. Never again for as long as I lived. From now on, I was looking out for me, myself, and I. No exceptions. “You know, things happen.”

  He threw his head back, and his laughter bounced off the concrete walls. Once he’d calmed down, he wiped his eyes and said, “Things happen. That’s a good one, Carissa. Things certainly do happen. That’s what I’m counting on.” He looked thoughtful before saying, “And he’s not even blood related, right? A foster brother from one of your foster homes?”

  I shrugged. What did it matter? He was the closest thing I’d ever had to family, and it didn’t matter how it had happened. He’d become my brother, and despite my current situation, I did care for him enough to take on a curse that made my life miserable. Had seemed like a good idea at the time. Had seemed like a way to pay him back for watching out for me when we were kids, and I was too young to defend myself. Didn’t matter if anyone else under
stood my motives.

  Anger and irritation boiled inside me. I was getting tired of him jerking me around. He just needed to get to the point. “Seriously, I need to know what you think I can do for you.”

  “I understand you have connections.”

  Dammit! Most of her connections would never own up to knowing her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t you know a rather well-connected witch in West Virginia? You met her in California a few years ago. She’s the last of the Hale witches. At least for now.”

  I looked away from him, glaring at the wall to my right and biting on my tongue thoughtfully, the tip protruding slightly. “Look, I don’t have any way to get inside that con. I haven’t spoken to Evie in years, and I was forced to leave without a friendly goodbye. Thanks to my brother, she’ll see me coming miles away. Might as well just kill me now because that ain’t happening.”

  He moved so quickly, I had no idea what was coming until it hit. His hand gripped my chin painfully as he jerked my face around so I could stare into his glittering, red eyes. So much anger, barely held in check. For the first time, I saw what kind of monster I was dealing with.

  “Such a beautiful exterior, hiding such a manipulative interior. I still can’t believe you almost pulled one over on me.” He shook my head, rattling my brain around like a handful of dice. He obviously wasn’t as cool about the almost-con as he seemed. “Do you want to die, pretty Carissa? Is that what you want? To be put out of your misery?”

  Tears built on my eyelids, but I didn’t want to cry in front of him. Despite my try at suppression though, a few tears slid down my cheeks. I jerked my face free of his grip and hung my head to try to hide the pain and misery I always kept in check just under the surface. I didn’t want to die, but I did want a different existence. I didn’t want to do this anymore. I didn’t want to move from town to town, conning to live, living to con. Being the bad guy, as it were. It was not a way to be, and I was tired of it. I was tired of being wicked.