Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by hamilton, rebecca

  The coven joined hands again and walked widdershins, counterclockwise, from the original casting to close the circle and end the meeting. Laughter filled the night as members ate and drank shortbreads and lemonade.

  A witch!

  James watched the strange ceremony from a treetop, hidden in the night’s darkness. No wonder Callie knew where to find him in the woods. How much did she know about immortals? He doubted she knew his secret since she appeared mystified about his injury.

  It sounded like she was in danger, but he hardened his heart. A witch was nothing but trouble. Best to pull back now before it was too late. He had enough problems masking his eternal youth from normal humans. Not to mention dealing with power-hungry immortals searching for death matches. No point taking on a witch who could supernaturally bind him to her for the next few decades. Not even if she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

  Carter warned him long and often that witches could ruin a man’s life. Well, maybe not an immortal’s entire lifetime—that never ended—but witches could make an immortal’s time a living hell for as long as their witchy lives lasted.

  Once the coven moved to other matters, James climbed down the tree. Although out-of-range for most mortals’ detection, he took his time, careful not to break a limb or cause any noise.

  He smiled in wry amusement. Even if they did see him, what could they do? Boil him in a cauldron? He could outrun them. Still, caution and mistrust were ingrained after over a century of living in disguise. And though he only half-believed Carter’s superstitions, best not to take chances when it came to witches.

  “So what’s the deal, Callie? Are you in some kind of danger or have your mom and grandma gone off the deep end?” asked Michael as they sat in his car eating sandwiches from Fat Girls Barbeque.

  She stared at her three friends. They evidently had a pow-wow after the coven meeting last night, and today was like an intervention for teen witches with screwed-up families.

  “We want to help if we can,” Skye said, downing what had to be at least her third Diet Coke of the day.

  Callie considered. Nobody said she had to keep secret about her father and the supposed danger he posed. Confiding in her friends would be a relief.

  She stared down at her sandwich, her normally ravenous appetite gone. “I don’t know what you’ve been told about why I lived with my aunt in Jersey.”

  “Nothing,” said Tanner.

  The other two nodded.

  “I always thought my father was dead.”

  “Thought? You mean he isn’t?” Skye asked.

  “No. He’s alive. I found out last week.”

  Tanner whistled. “Wow. That’s a mighty big secret they kept from you.”

  “They claimed it was for my own protection.”

  “You need protection from your own dad?” Michael took a huge bite of barbeque. Football players, especially linebackers, never lost their appetite.

  “Mom left him because she found out he’d become a black magic warlock.” She didn’t mention the dark book of spells in her possession.

  Skye cocked her head to one side. “Why is he a danger now, after all these years?”

  “He’s waiting for me to turn twenty on the summer solstice.” She hesitated, not wanting to sound conceited.

  “Why?” asked Tanner, clueless.

  “Callie has special powers.” Skye twisted a purple strand of hair. “She reads auras and stuff.”

  Tanner gaped at her, his hand frozen as a fry dripped ketchup in his lap.

  Her face flamed. “They think reaching my age of majority and a full initiation in the coven will make me powerful. My dad’s threatened to return that night and make me join his coven.” She shoved a fry around.

  “You don’t believe your dad will do that?” Michael asked.

  She shrugged.

  “I’ve known your mom and Grandma Jo all my life. I could tell last night they’re really afraid,” Michael said.

  “But he can’t just take me and make me do whatever he wants,” she pointed out.

  “People do mean crap all the time, Callie. Don’t you watch the news?” Tanner grabbed the to-go paper bag, rummaging for something else to eat.

  “Maybe you don’t want to believe them, Callie.” Michael looked sympathetic.

  “Maybe I don’t.” She took a bite of coleslaw. “But it’s possible he’s changed.”

  Everyone avoided her eyes and concentrated on their food.

  “Of course it’s possible.” She heard the doubt in Skye’s voice. “I don’t want to be a downer, but if your dad’s changed, wouldn’t he have bothered to get in touch with you over the last . . . what . . . fourteen . . . fifteen years?”

  “He might have a reason.”

  They stared at her like she’d lost it.

  “Okay, I admit it’s far-fetched, but until I know for sure, I’m not ruling it out. I’m going to find him and make up my own mind.”

  Michael put down his drink. “How? Do you even have his address?”

  “There are ways to get information.”

  “Are you going to do some scrying?” Skye’s eyes blazed in excitement. “Or maybe use the tarot cards? Do you have a crystal ball?”

  She laughed. “Actually, I was thinking more in terms of a little detective work on the Internet.”

  “Oh.” Skye’s mouth turned down. Michael and Tanner hooted with laughter. She blushed and held her chin up defiantly. “I’m pretty good with the computer. I’ll help you.”

  Michael finished his lunch and started backing up the car. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you at school…in case there’s any trouble.”

  Callie’s throat tightened. Unexpected acts of kindness always got her.

  “Same here, Yankee Girl,” said Tanner.

  “Don’t you dare call me a ‘Yankee.’” Her laugh was a little unsteady, but they all pretended not to notice.

  They moved on to lighter topics all the way back to school, so by the time she returned to classes, her equilibrium had returned.

  At last period class, she walked in seeking James. He was there, looking awesome as usual. But he avoided her eyes as she slid into the desk beside him.

  “Hi.” She willed him to meet her gaze.

  “Hi.” He fiddled with his pen and didn’t look up.

  She opened her notebook and set down her purse with a sigh. Weren’t girls supposed to be the moody ones?

  “Happy Monday. Back to work, everyone. Turn in your homework and open your books to page one hundred eighteen.” The professor was his normal, cheerless self.

  She tried to focus on the lesson, but James’s nearness made it hard. She brooded through class and gathered her courage. A girl had to do what a girl had to do.

  “Class dismissed,” the professor called as the bell rang.

  James shot out of his chair and bolted for the door.

  Irritation overcame shyness. She followed him to the parking lot and caught up to him before he could get in his car and escape.

  “James.”

  He went still, and she feared he’d pretend not to hear. He faced her with obvious reluctance.

  “What is it?” James crossed his arms and leaned against his car.

  She inwardly winced at his bored expression but was determined to grind ahead. “I wondered if you’d like to come to my house tonight to study. Mom and Grandma Jo are both going to be out, so they won’t bother us.”

  “No.” He turned and got in the car.

  “No?” She was too confused to be angry. One minute he promised to call, the next minute he acted like he couldn’t stand to be near her.

  James gunned the engine and backed out without another word or look. She stood alone and stared at the spot where his car had been two seconds ago. What had she done to make him run?

  “What’s up, Callie?”

  She turned to find her trio of friends. The ghastly moment was that much worse knowing they witnessed James giving her the slip.


  “I didn’t know you knew James MacLauren,” Skye said.

  She stared at the books in her arms. “I thought I knew him but guess I was wrong.”

  “Can’t believe he took off like that.” Michael looked down the road at the rapidly disappearing car. “What a jerk.”

  “It’s no big deal, really.” Geez, Michael acted as if she was another little sister, like Skye.

  “What did you do to the guy?” Tanner said. “Ask him to marry you and offer to bear him a dozen kids?”

  She flipped her hair. “Looks that way, doesn’t it?”

  “Don’t feel bad,” said Skye. “He acts stuck up with everybody. Listen, why don’t you come over tonight, and we’ll do some searching on your dad.”

  She was grateful for the change of subject. “Thanks. I’ll pump Mom and Grandma Jo for details on his past. I’m not expecting much out of them though.”

  “Maybe they’ll surprise you,” Tanner said. “Convince them it’s important to be prepared so you can protect yourself better.”

  Skye nudged his side. “You do have half a brain sometimes.”

  “I hope Emily Singer appreciates that. Along with my hot body.”

  “Good luck with that.” Skye shrugged as if she could care less.

  If Callie didn’t know better, she’d buy Skye’s act too.

  “I’m not having any luck with Facebook or Twitter,” Skye said later that night as they hung out in Skye’s bedroom.

  “Well, we didn’t expect much on those sites. When I asked Mom and Grandma Jo about his work, they were deliberately vague. All I got was this: he has a business degree from Jacksonville State University and they lived in Jacksonville for five years where he was employed as a real estate agent.”

  “We should get something from the alumni association at Jacksonville State.”

  She drew the faded photograph out of her notebook. “I have a picture of him.”

  Skye whipped her head up. “Let me see.” She studied the photo. “A real hottie in his time, I bet. Let me scan it.”

  She paced to calm off her nerves while Skye worked.

  “I’ll try some free sources first, but we may have to use a site that charges for information.”

  “I’ve got some money.” She kept pacing as Skye pounded the keyboard.

  “Here’s something.”

  She rushed to sit beside Skye.

  “This looks like it might be him. What do you think?”

  Callie studied the pictures on the screen. Skye put her old photograph of Dad side-by-side with a newer image of businessman Lucas Bradford of Bradford Investment and Realty of Atlanta.

  “I think it’s him. You’re brilliant!” She touched the computer image of her father’s face.

  “I just Googled ‘Lucas Bradford’ and then went to a website with professional profiles.”

  “Can you get his address?”

  Skye hit a few more keys. “For a mere $39.95, you can view his full profile and get his current address, telephone number, educational—”

  “Stop. I just need to know how to contact him.” She grabbed her purse and pulled two twenties from her wallet. “You got a credit card or something? Here, let’s do this.”

  “Sure. But you know, we might get this for free by trying an Atlanta directory and then—”

  “No, go ahead and buy it.” She could hardly sit still.

  “Okay, okay.”

  A few more clicks and the printer hummed and spit out paper. Callie snatched it up and stared at her father’s phone number. Her head spun as she stared at the numbers that could connect them.

  “Well, go on. Call him.”

  “What do I say?” She could hardly breathe much less carry on a conversation.

  “Start with Hi, I’m your daughter and see what happens.” Skye got up. “I’ll give you some space.” She left the room, softly closing the door behind her.

  Her fingers trembled as she punched in the numbers. The loud rasping of her breath filled her ears as the phone rang on the other end.

  “You have reached the office of Bradford Reality of Atlanta—”

  It was a recording.

  A strange brew of relief and disappointment churned her gut. She’d try again during office hours tomorrow.

  “No luck!” she called out.

  Skye came back in. “You don’t look upset.”

  “I’ll try again later.”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask…do you have that amber with you? The one you carry in your pocket all the time?”

  She pulled it from her pocket.

  Skye rolled it in her palm and held it up to the light.

  “Mom gave me that before I left Alabama.”

  “Nice. Did she charge it for protection?”

  “Yeah, I didn’t know it then; I just thought it was a gift.” A special gift.

  Callie shifted restlessly. That first night away from home had been awful. She’d laid in bed, crying, when she remembered the gift. She picked up the amber and cradled its warm comfort as it nestled in her palm, finally drifting to a fitful sleep. Whenever she awoke that night, the amber gave off a faint golden glow and a humming energy. As if it contained a spark of celestial magic.

  Skye interrupted the unhappy reverie. “You know, I make and design jewelry. If you want, I can put a clasp on your amber and make it into a necklace.”

  “That would be awesome. But how long would it take? I don’t want to be without it.”

  “I can do it right now. I’ve got some leather cord, and you could switch it out later for a nice chain. I’ve even got a couple of smaller clear quartz crystals I could put on either side of your amulet.”

  In no time, she stood in front of the mirror admiring Skye’s handiwork. “I love it! Now I won’t have to be lugging it around in my pocket.”

  “No way I could have kept up with it like that. I’d have lost it the first week.”

  “It was my only link with Mom.” She preened in the mirror, admiring the necklace. “Not only is this pretty, but the quartz crystals will amplify the amber’s energy.”

  “I thought of that,” Skye admitted. “You know we’re all worried about you. This is my little contribution to your safety. I’m so glad you’re back. I missed my best friend.”

  “Me too,” Callie said gruffly. She touched her amulet. It was like inhaling warmth and security. Wearing the crystal next to her heart chakra gave it more power, and now it would always lie against her skin, even while asleep.

  “Bradford Realty and Investments.”

  Callie’s grip on the phone tightened. It had taken over a week to get up her nerve to call again. “May I speak to Lucas Bradford?”

  “One moment. I’ll direct you to his assistant.”

  She looked out the window and waited. It was a clear, bright, ordinary morning and she was making the most extraordinary call of her life.

  “Mr. Bradford’s office. Marian Atwell speaking. Name please.”

  “Callie Bradford.”

  “What is the nature of your call, Ms. Bradford?”

  Darn. No easy way to get around this dragon lady.

  “This is his daughter. I’m calling on a personal matter.”

  Silence. This time Ms. Atwell’s voice wasn’t so breezy and impersonal. “I, um, wasn’t aware that Luke, I mean Mr. Bradford, had a daughter.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Like I said, it’s important I talk to him.”

  “I’m afraid he’s on an extended leave. I’ll be glad to take a message.”

  Another delay. “Okay, here’s my number. Are you going to call him right now?”

  “I’ll try, Ms. Bradford.” The professional voice returned to its former crispness. “Good day.”

  Callie settled back in bed. And waited. She glared at the phone and willed it to ring.

  It didn’t

  She waited to take a shower. When she couldn’t put it off any longer, she carried the phone in the bathroom. It rang as she lathered up her hair with shampoo. Cal
lie leaped out of the shower and picked it up.

  “Hey, just checking to make sure you remembered this is your week to drive us all to school,” Skye said.

  “Oh, it’s you.” She couldn’t hide the let-down.

  Skye laughed. “Great to hear from you too. See you in twenty minutes.”

  It seemed this was to be a week of disappointment all the way around. James was still acting like a jerk.

  She trudged through the day of classes, cell phone close at hand. But there had been no call. By the time she returned home, the compulsion to run burned like a fever. A long, hard run, preferably uphill. She raced to her room and changed into a jogging suit before bolting back down the stairs.

  “What’s the rush?” Grandma Jo asked from the kitchen.

  “Just need to let off steam. Be back in a couple hours.”

  “We don’t like you running around the mountain by yourself,” Grandma Jo scolded. “It’s not safe. What if something happened to you alone out there?

  She held up her cell phone and headed toward the back door. “Remember this new-fangled invention, Grandma? You’ve got my number.” She smiled when Grandma Jo sighed loud enough to be heard across two rooms.

  It was her first real smile today. All week everyone kept asking what’s wrong with you? Even that creepy Dean Connors met her in the hallway and commented on her long face.

  Callie ran up the mountain. Nothing was ordered and logical in her world anymore. Lucas and James were two different, yet all-consuming, puzzles.

  At the mountain’s peak, she slowed and made her way, exhausted, to her spot on the rock bluff to meditate. The view was spectacular. She couldn’t wait until the trees were green to get the full effect, but even in the dead of winter, seeing nothing more than houses as matchbox-sized dwellings did a lot for her perspective.

  She closed her eyes and relished the sunlight touching her face. She grounded herself to the earth, imagining a beam of light from the base of her spine growing like roots in the soil. The air smelt earthy and clean, refreshing.

  Cleansing, salty tears washed her cheeks. Now she was thinking more clearly, she realized what hurt right now wasn’t so much her family’s situation. After all, her father was a stranger. But James . . . She couldn’t help believing they were meant to be together. Whether meeting him was plain luck or a gift from the goddess, she didn’t know and didn’t particularly care.