Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by hamilton, rebecca

  “I think we’re out of danger now.”

  She felt the low rumble in his chest as he spoke. She didn’t want to look up, wanted to stay in the safety of her head against his chest. But curiosity drew her away from the comfort of his body. She and Sin both lifted their heads and looked around.

  “How close did we come to being hit by lightning?”

  “Only a few yards I would guess.”

  They were clear of danger, and yet he still held her.

  She let him. After the piercing thunder faded into the distance, the mountain seemed hush. A light rain beat quietly on the tree leaves above. Like a lullaby.

  He set her down slowly, and her body brushed the entire length of his before her feet touched earth. Callie blushed and stepped back reluctantly. Sin jumped down and began sniffing and running, the storm forgotten.

  “Before the lightening hit, what was that ball of fire in the sky? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “St. Elmo’s fire. I’ve only seen it about three times in my life. This is the first time I’ve ever seen one during the day.”

  “I thought St. Elmo’s was an old TV show,” she said weakly.

  “The hissing sound and blue-green glow is from an electrical field called a corona. You only see St. Elmo’s during a thunderstorm when the negative charges from the ground collide with the positive charges above. I’ve seen the tips of cow horns and grass blades light up before.”

  Smart guy. And sexy and maybe even dangerous. She’d never spent a more exciting morning. “How did you know lightning was about to strike?”

  “Soon as you see the glow and hear the electrical field hiss, it’s time to get the hell out of Dodge. But it also means the storm’s about to pass. That’s why sailors thought St. Elmo’s fire was a good omen when they saw one at sea.”

  A good omen. She could use one after last night’s drama.

  They started walking again, and she was surprised when they reached the edge of the woods in minutes. How did they get down the mountain so quick? She must have kept her face hidden in his coat longer than she thought.

  She led James to the small path toward home. Some inexplicable compulsion slowed her steps, and she turned to face him, reluctant to leave him and the magic of the woods. He stood less than a foot away and smelled of earth, rain, musk and leather, an intoxicating brew.

  She studied his face with its stern jaw and perfectly sculpted, high cheekbones. He looked as if he might have some Cherokee blood. Smokey, dark eyes blazed against his light olive complexion.

  Unbidden, her hand rose to touch his cheek. She was being bold, but she had to touch him, had to feel that olive skin beneath her pale hands. “James.” Her voice was soft and breathless. In the midst of a winter thunderstorm, she had found a haven of warmth and wonder.

  He drew back abruptly and held her at arm’s length, studying her in turn. “What are you? A witch or something?”

  Callie jumped and blinked in disbelief. How could he have possibly guessed? He grinned, and she realized he was joking.

  “You could say that.” She resisted a childish urge to cross her fingers behind her back.

  “So that’s your home?” He nodded in the direction of the house.

  “Yeah, home sweet home.” In the gray wetness, lamplight shone through several windows, warm and inviting. But to get there, they would have to make a dash for it in the lingering rain over a large expanse of open yard.

  “Ready to run?” he asked.

  No. No, she wanted to stay right where they were forever. No way could she admit it though. “Okay,” she agreed.

  Together they emerged from the woods, running fast to reach the shelter of the back porch. Sin got there first and barked in excitement. Callie reached down to stroke his wet fur. “C’mon in, but we better leave Sin out here. I’m afraid our cats wouldn’t give him a warm welcome.”

  “No problem. Stay here a minute, boy.”

  Callie felt self-conscious as they entered the den. Mom sat in a recliner by the fire reading, and Grandma Jo was on the floor in some kind of yoga pretzel pose. Willow stretched out on the fireplace rug, sleeping.

  She cleared her throat. “Hi, everyone. This is James. I met him out hiking, and we got caught in the storm.”

  Mom put down her book and surveyed the newcomer warily. Grandma Jo looked up, startled. Callie suppressed the urge to giggle as her normally composed grandmother blushed at being caught in such an undignified position.

  “Oh . . . what a surprise.” She scrambled to her feet and put a hand to her spiked hair. “Look at you both soaking wet. Can I get you some tea or hot chocolate?”

  James smiled. “Hot chocolate would be awesome.”

  “Just the regular hot chocolate,” Callie said, arching an eyebrow. She motioned James to the hallway. “Let’s go put our stuff up.” She shook off the wet blanket wrapped around her shoulders then reached for his coat.

  The hall seemed tiny; James’s presence filled the small space. The enclosed nook, with the sound of the rain beating down on the roof, created a feeling of intimacy. She didn’t know whether to be thrilled or scared of getting caught as his eyes shifted to her lips.

  The sound of banging pots and pans brought them to their senses.

  Callie smiled sheepishly and nodded her head toward the den. “Why don’t we go sit by the fire?”

  In the den, Mom stared at the flames. She looked up, and Callie was surprised to see an uncharacteristically guarded expression on her face.

  “How did you happen to run into Callie early on a Sunday morning? Not many people would be out hiking in this weather.”

  Callie’s face went red with anger and embarrassment. Did her mother imagine he was some kind of creepy stalker?

  “I walk every morning at daybreak. Usually I hike around Booze Mountain where I live, but sometimes I want a change of scenery.”

  “Booze Mountain?” Callie laughed. “I’d forgotten that name. Where on the mountain are you?”

  “We’re practically neighbors. I live almost at the top, only a couple miles from you.”

  Grandma Jo entered with a tray of hot chocolate and fresh-baked carrot muffins. “If you’re anything like my granddaughter, that walk will have made you hungry.”

  “Absolutely. Thank you.” James eagerly accepted the food and drink.

  “Thanks, Grandma.” Callie cautiously took a sip. “I see this is up to your usual standards, minus that herbal note in the last batch you made.”

  Grandma Jo settled into a rocker by the fireplace. “I’m surprised we haven’t met before now. I’ve lived in Piedmont since I was a young bride.”

  “I’ve only been here a couple of years.”

  “I see, James . . .? What’s your last name?”

  It dawned on Callie he was being drilled.

  “MacLauren.” James smiled at Callie, not the least bit flustered. “I live with my dad. Maybe you know him, Carter MacLauren?”

  “Hmm. No, I don’t think so. Ginnie, have you ever met a Carter MacLauren?”

  “No.” Mom stared intently at James, the forgotten book on the floor by her feet.

  “Does he work in town?” Grandma Jo asked with deceptive mildness.

  “No, he’s recently retired, used to work as a pharmacist.”

  “In Piedmont?” Grandma Jo asked in surprise.

  A ball of orange fur suddenly landed in James’s lap, knocked over his hot chocolate, and streaked out to the hallway.

  “Whoa!” James swiped at his jeans.

  “Grendel! I’m sorry. Let me clean it up. He’s a bad kitty.” Callie grabbed some napkins and began mopping up the mess.

  “No problem. What’s his name again?”

  “Grendel. You know, after the monster in Beowulf.”

  “A perfect name for him,” Grandma Jo said. “He’s always knocking things over or driving Willow crazy jumping on her. Here, let me fix you another cup of chocolate.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’d better get
home soon, though. Dad and I were going to Rome today.”

  “Rome?” Callie asked in disbelief.

  “Rome, Georgia. We’ve got to get some supplies.”

  She smacked her forehead. “Duh. I thought you meant, like, Italy. “While you finish drinking, I’m going to put on some dry clothes. I’ll give you a ride home.”

  Upstairs, donning dry jeans and a t-shirt, she was bummed to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair was soaking wet and clung to her in wet clumps. Of course, she had to be looking her worst when she met the world’s greatest guy. Quickly, she grabbed a towel and ran it through the wet locks. It wasn’t much better, but it would have to do. Wouldn’t do to keep him waiting too long in the interrogation room. After years apart, she was aggravated by the motherly grilling of James.

  A bit of amber glistened on the dresser, and she suddenly understood. They wanted to make sure James had no connection with her father. She picked up the amber and stared at her reflection. Her image blurred, and James’s face glimmered on the mirror’s surface, the glass transforming to a fuzzy movie screen.

  Against a gray sky, James knelt by a tomb, head bowed in sorrow. Callie concentrated her attention on the tombstone and read the inscription: In loving memory, Elizabeth Channing MacLauren, January 31, 1825 - March 18, 1865.

  A loud clap of thunder, and her gaze jumped to the window. When she turned back, the mirror’s slate was wiped clean. She was again alone in the room staring at her reflection.

  Nothing like that had ever happened before. What could it mean? She knew of other witches who could scry—divine the future--by looking into crystals or black bowls of water. But she never had any desire to try and foresee the future. Too scary.

  Shaken, she returned downstairs.

  “… and how long has your father lived in Piedmont?”

  So, the drilling continued.

  “Ready to get a move on?” Callie asked as she entered the den, interrupting Mom’s questions.

  “Sure, appreciate the ride. Nice to meet you both,” James said with a nod to his interrogators.

  “See you in a bit,” Callie said, ushering James out of the lion’s den.

  “Wait, Callie,” Mom called as they slipped into the foyer.

  James winked at her. “I’ll get Sin and wait for you on the front porch.”

  Callie stuck her head back in the den. “What?”

  “Are you sure it’s safe?” Mom whispered. “This could be a trap from your father.”

  “A trap?”

  “Someone befriends you and then lures you to Lucas.”

  “You’re being ridiculous. Can we talk about this later?”

  Mom pursed her lips, thinking it over. “Okay, but be careful.”

  Callie rolled her eyes, grabbed an umbrella, and stepped outside to join James. “Time to make another run for it. Only now we’ve got an umbrella.”

  Electricity crackled between them as they climbed in the car. Sin jumped in the backseat, wagged his tail, and shook out his fur, splattering them.

  Shivering from cold, Callie turned on the heat. “It’ll take a few minutes to warm up.”

  “I don’t think your mom likes me.” His tone was neutral.

  “She has an overly-suspicious mind.”

  He stretched his long feet in the cramped Volkswagen. “Then I won’t take it personally.”

  Once they got on White Plains Gap Road that connected the two mountains, Callie sent him covert side-glances. Mom had planted the seeds of suspicion, so she tried to see him objectively and take a step back from the initial attraction. It was hard. Not only was James good-looking, there was undeniable chemistry between them.

  “Take a right here. This road takes you to my house.”

  Callie turned and started up the mountain. The higher they went, the narrower and more winding the road became.

  “I’m glad there’s no snow and ice like in New Jersey. If there was, I’d be really nervous about now.”

  “You don’t sound like you’re from Jersey.”

  “I only lived there a few years, not enough for the accent to stick.”

  “What brings you to Piedmont now?”

  She paused. “I moved back in with my mom.”

  James nodded. “Were you living with your dad in Jersey?”

  “No.” She took her eyes off the road, frowning, searching his face. “What makes you ask about my Dad?”

  James threw up his hands defensively. “A natural assumption. Sorry.”

  His easy smile relaxed her. “True. I should have realized . . . Anyway, I was living with my aunt. I came here to reconnect with my family. I’ll be attending Piedmont College for a couple of semesters.”

  “Guess I’ll be seeing you at school.”

  “Great!” Callie blushed at her enthusiastic response. “I’ll be the new girl, so seeing a familiar face will be nice.”

  “This is my house here on the left.” He pointed to a large, wooden A-frame home that looked like an expensive vacation ski lodge.

  “Awesome.” She pulled into the driveway. “The views must be incredible.”

  “That’s why Dad bought it.”

  She stopped the car. The rain had let up some, but it still beat down pretty strong. “Want to borrow my umbrella? You can give it back to me later.”

  He brushed aside her question. “Come inside for a minute.”

  “You said y’all were going out. I don’t want to hold you up.”

  “A few minutes won’t matter. You can meet him, and I’ll give you a grand tour of the place.”

  The minute Callie entered the house, she couldn’t help but be awed. They walked into a huge great room with a back wall of plate glass. It almost felt as if they were still in the midst of the winter storm. Wind-blown sheets of rain loudly beat against the windows while trees bent and swayed in unison. Bolts of white-blue lightening crashed into the valleys below.

  “Amazing.” Callie strolled to the window. “With a view like this, you don’t ever need to leave home.”

  She sensed James behind her. Even without touching, she felt the heat from his body. He was dangerous all right. She leaned back into him and closed her eyes. A sense of peace and comfort settled around her.

  “James, where’ve you been? I thought we were heading . . .”

  Callie whirled around to find a middle-aged man walking through the kitchen.

  “Hey, Dad. Went out for a hike this morning and met a new friend. This is Callie.”

  An easy smile lit Mr. MacLauren’s face. She couldn’t tell much resemblance to his son. Where James was tall and dark, his father was only medium height and his hair a light brown with a fair sprinkling of gray. His eyes were kind and, like James, he seemed in excellent shape with the same bristling vitality.

  He extended his hand to her, and she did likewise. Their palms touched, and his eyes registered surprise and then wariness.

  “Nice to meet you.” Callie almost choked on the words as his face hardened into suspicion. She looked at James and saw he also noticed his dad’s reaction.

  “My pleasure.” He nodded coolly and turned to his son. “We better get a move on if we’re going to Rome. The rain’s gonna slow us down.”

  “I was leaving.” Callie headed for the door eager to leave the suddenly stifling atmosphere.

  “I’ll walk you out.” James grasped her firmly by the elbow.

  The minute they were on the porch, she flashed him a rueful gaze. “I don’t think your dad likes me.”

  He didn’t deny it. “What is it with our parents? Maybe we should introduce them.”

  His laughing eyes eased her embarrassment. Who cared what they thought anyway?

  “Well . . . I really should go. Have fun on your trip.” She popped open the umbrella and dashed to her car.

  Once inside, she glimpsed James standing in the doorway waving. The scent of Sin’s wet fur lingered in the interior. She drove down the mountain as rain pelted the window. Without James by
her side, the memories of last night came flooding back.

  Your father’s not dead, Callie.

  He’s an evil man.

  The swipe of the windshield wipers beat out the same warning as the Ouija board did seven years earlier.

  Dan-ger. Dan-ger.

  3

  Water Visions

  “I can’t believe break’s over and it’s time for classes.” Skye’s older brother, Michael, tapped the steering wheel with one hand while glancing at his cell phone with the other.

  “Maybe you should pay more attention to the road,” Callie said.

  The twisting street was wet from the recent rains. Carpooling wasn’t such a good idea after all. Still, when Skye offered a ride, she was grateful not to have to start the new college alone.

  “Only five and a half months and then we’re out of this small town.” Skye was cheerful as ever. The cold, wet Monday morning return to school didn’t get her down. “You should move to Tuscaloosa with us, Callie. You’d love the University of Alabama. It’s huge. Lots to do.”

  “Just think, this summer we get to start practicing football at Bama. Bet a few days of practice at one hundred degrees with ninety-five percent humidity and we’ll wish it was winter.”

  Callie looked at the tall, lean guy beside her in the backseat. Tanner, Skye and Michael’s friend, had eyes alive with mischief. He turned his attention to her. “Are you going to be at the coven meeting Friday?”

  She met his gaze with surprise. “You know about it?”

  “Tanner’s a witch too,” Skye assured her.

  The openness of it all was astounding. In Jersey, she and Aunt Mallory were the only witches she knew, and they had to be secretive even in their own home.

  “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

  “Hope you’re coming, sky-clad,” Tanner said, dark eyes sparkling.

  “What’s that?”

  Michael roared with laughter, choking on his morning Diet Coke.