Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by hamilton, rebecca

  “Says who?” He kept his tone mild and his smile fixed.

  “Basic Witchcraft 101. Everyone knows hatred or revenge spells return threefold to the person casting them.”

  “Not everyone believes that nonsense. Have you had any personal experience with hexes?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “You sound like your mom. How about opening your mind a little bit?”

  “I am not like her!” Immediately she saw the trap he’d laid.

  “Then loosen up and consider another point of view.”

  She focused her mind to discern his aura. The color of it could help her determine his true intentions.

  “Uh-uh, no.” He shook his head slightly. “Now I know what you’re doing. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that looking at other people’s auras without their permission is an invasion of privacy?”

  His mocking amusement made her flush. “Why did you want to see me?”

  “You called me. How could I not be curious about my own daughter?”

  “Is that all I am to you—a curiosity?” The words fell neutral and flat.

  She had few illusions about this meeting. Hadn’t expected he would declare his love and regret for years of abandonment. Still, she couldn’t help feeling some disappointment. Should have known better after reading his black book with its spells of binding and pain, all scrawled in carefully constructed selfishness. She shivered and mentally distanced herself from her father.

  “Would you believe me if I said I was sorry for not being a part of your life?” His tone was humble, and he cocked his head to one side.

  “Are you?”

  “Of course. I’ve thought of you often.”

  He was saying the right words and looking the part of repentant father, but she wasn’t buying it. Everything was too studied, and he kept up protective, screening barriers that prevented her from gauging his energy.

  “Then why haven’t you ever called?”

  “I did try to see you once.”

  Callie faked surprise, wondering if he would mention the Ouija board fiasco. “When?”

  “You were twelve. Ginnie turned me away out-of-hand.”

  “Must not have wanted to see me too bad if you only came once.”

  “Ginnie convinced me you’d be better off not knowing me.”

  “You could have come to see me in New Jersey. Mom and Grandma Jo couldn’t have stopped you.”

  “I didn’t know where you went. Besides, why did you want me to drive all the way here from Atlanta? To get on my case?” Irritation escaped as red wisps of steam from his self-contained mantle.

  She pursed her lips. If anyone should be angry, it was her. “You deserve it. Did you ever pay child support or have you been a total deadbeat?” She didn’t bother to hide her anger. He had it coming.

  A strong smell wafted in the air. That unique mix of menthol and licorice she had only encountered once before—the night of the Ouija Board incident. Grandma Jo said it was absinthe, from the wormwood herb. Her father had been there that night. Mom hadn’t lied about that. Even the Ouija board tried to warn her. She remembered the words: ‘A D-A-R-K V-I-S-I-T-O-R F-R-O-M Y-O-U-R P-A-S-T I-S A-L-M-O-S-T U-P-O-N Y-O-U B-E-W-A-R-E F–A --’

  It had been trying to spell F-A-T-H-E-R when Lucas attacked Mom.

  The book of black magic was his too. How stupid to think he might have changed.

  Lucas—she couldn’t bring herself to call him father now—said nothing and stared straight ahead. When he faced her again, his tone was gentle, jaw set in determination. “Callie, I understand the way you must feel. I won’t offer any more excuses except to say I’m sorry and I’d like to make amends. Yes, I’ve always paid child support, and I’ll help you now with college or whatever you’d like to do.”

  “Why?” She didn’t expect this. It was too easy, too suspicious.

  “My company’s doing well, even with the lousy economy. I’ve expanded my real estate business and started an import/export company. As a matter of fact, I’d like to offer you a job.”

  “What kind of job?” She couldn’t help being flattered, as he no doubt expected.

  He shrugged. “You could do something in public relations or take an administrative position until you figure out what interests you. With your special Gifts, you could be a real asset.”

  “And how would you have me use my so-called special Gifts?” Her voice was sharp with disapproval.

  “When you come into your full potential on your birthday, you’ll be a powerful witch. There are ways to use that to your advantage.”

  “You mean to your advantage. First of all, there’s no guarantee I’ll get special powers.”

  “It’s more than that,” he interrupted. “I’ve studied all the astrological implications of your birth date, I know your hereditary powers, and I’ve even observed them first-hand.”

  “Second of all,” Callie continued, ignoring his interruption, “I don’t use witchcraft to hurt others or cast spells to manipulate.” She half rose from the bench before settling back down. He’d come all this way, so today might be her only chance to talk. “And what do you mean you’ve observed me first-hand? You haven’t observed anything since I was four. Besides, I’ve seen your black book; I know the kind of spells you cast, the damage you’re willing to do to get what you want. I’m not like you. Why should I help you?”

  He didn’t answer her questions. “We seem to have got off on the wrong foot.” He smiled with fake warmth. “I came today to try and make up for the past. Like I said, if you want to continue college, I’ll pay. If you’re not interested in school, why don’t you come live with me this summer in Atlanta and work for me on a trial basis? If you don’t like it, I won’t force you to stay.”

  The offers made her head spin. It was generous but . . . live with him?

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she said. She couldn’t help the wistful note in her voice. Here was her father asking to be a part of her life. Trouble was, she couldn’t drum up an ounce of affection for him.

  “Sure it is. Give us a chance to get to know each other.” His laugh sounded forced. “It would be advantageous for both of us.”

  Advantageous. Wrong word. She rose from the bench. “Thanks for coming, Lucas.” He didn’t deserve to be called ‘dad.’ She stuck out her hand to avoid another awkward hug.

  Lucas looked at her hand in open-mouthed surprise. “I can’t believe you’re turning me down. Callie, I live in a beautiful high-rise penthouse. There are a million things to do in the city for a girl your age. I’ll even throw in a car, along with a salary that any college student would jump at.”

  “No. Mom was right about you.” She dropped her hand and took a few steps back. “Have a safe trip back to Atlanta. Sorry you came this far for nothing.”

  Her entire body slammed into an invisible, dense concentration of energy. She stared at Lucas in angry astonishment. She’d never encountered such a phenomenon and didn’t expect it in broad daylight from her own biological father.

  “You’re making a huge mistake.” His voice was hushed, yet the echo of his whisper ricocheted in her mind. He stared at her intensely, shadows smoldering in his dark eyes, the irises almost black.

  Callie sensed James’s strong presence at her side before she physically laid eyes on him. He glared at Lucas.

  “Let her go,” James said.

  The two men sized each other up. Callie detected an animalistic, green vibration as ancient as the mountains, flowing between them. Her skin tingled, and every cell went into alert mode fueled by adrenaline.

  Lucas backed down with a small shrug and reached into his corduroy jacket pocket. “Here’s my business card with my private number. Call me if you change your mind about the job.”

  She accepted the card but said nothing. There was nothing left to say between them. After fourteen years, they were strangers with no bonds other than chance genetics.

  They watched him drive away in the Jaguar
with an angry squeal of tires and the roar of fine engineering.

  “I hope you’re not too disappointed,” James said.

  She sank onto the bench, putting her head between her hands and knees up to her chest.

  “You’re not crying, are you?” James sounded alarmed.

  She raised her head and smiled slightly. “No, but for the first time in my life I feel utterly exhausted, like I ran a marathon or something.”

  “It’s all that adrenalin leaving your system.”

  “Just like a man to blame everything on hormones.”

  He laughed and sat beside her. “Tell you what, let’s you and me play hooky today.”

  “I’ve never in my life skipped school.”

  “What? You’ve never honored that time-old tradition? You’re a disgrace. We need to correct this right away.”

  She stared at him in bemusement. Why not? Even if she went back to class, her mind and heart wouldn’t be in it. A day alone with James was an unexpected treasure. She’d be a fool to pass it up.

  “You’re on. What’ll we do?”

  He stood and extended his hand to help her up. “Little girl, you’ve no idea the things we can do.” His gaze was dark and sexy.

  “I’ll be your willing pupil,” she said, accepting his hand.

  The day that started so depressing became magical because she shared it with James. Neither brought up the mystery of the other; instead, they spent the day relaxing in the beauty of the wilds. He took her to Little River Canyon, and they hiked to the falls.

  “I’ve never met another girl with your energy,” he said. All day she’d matched him stride for stride as they climbed up and down the hill trails.

  “You’re not complaining, are you?” She stepped into his arms, and they leaned into each other. She never wanted to let go.

  “Not yet,” he said.

  Callie wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his face down. The heat from their bodies was thick in the air.

  “You know you’re playing with fire,” he whispered. His breath was hot and husky against her neck.

  “I don’t care. I want you, James.” She fought through her shyness. “I love you.”

  His eyes widened in surprise.

  “It’s okay if you don’t love me back. I just—”

  His embrace tightened. Gradually, he loosened his hold. James always broke away first. She wished he would give her the same words, but she knew in her heart he felt the same, even if he couldn’t say it aloud.

  For now, the knowledge alone was enough.

  What a bastard. James lay in bed picturing Lucas Bradford among the Confederate tombstones. He had to admit it was clever of Lucas to choose it as a meeting place. Cemeteries were hallowed ground to immortals, and no fighting was allowed. His temples and neck still ached with the strain of masking his anger in front of Callie all day. The man was calculating and had come to Piedmont to size up his daughter. He would never accept her refusal to work for him. The easy way of trying to charm her and get her willing cooperation didn’t work. She had no interest in what he offered.

  He had heard the whole conversation. His hearing was as sharp and superhuman as his vision and strength. James rubbed his neck and kneaded the back of his head. Callie impressed him with her determination to do the right thing. Lots of girls her age would have either been tempted by the lure of a nice lifestyle or so desperate for a father’s approval, they would compromise their principles. Callie was strong enough not to be crushed by her father’s lack of character and confident enough to make the right decision. But it had to hurt. He vowed to stay in her life at least long enough to make sure she was safe and free from whatever that man tried to do.

  Because the worst thing of all was that Lucas Bradford was no ordinary man and no ordinary warlock. He tried to hide his true nature, but James was onto him instantly, and his head reeled with the implications.

  At their introduction, James had reached automatically for his dagger but stopped. As he shook Lucas’s hand, the jerk had pulled him closer and whispered in his ear, “Do you really want to do this in front of the girl?”

  Lucas Bradford was an immortal, and that made him extra dangerous.

  Callie looked out her bedroom window and stared toward James’s home on Booze Mountain. As she did every night, she sent out her love and wishes for him to have a peaceful night sleep. Tonight she added extra force to her wish. All day she sensed the inner agitation he tried to hide. Callie centered her thoughts and built up her desire to the point she could compact that energy into a thought-form. She shaped it into a small ball and then cupped it in one hand. She opened the window and blew it into the wind toward James.

  “Good goddess, child, you’re eating even more than usual,” said Grandma Jo.

  “Your vegetable stew’s the best.” Callie scooped her fourth bowl from the soup tureen. “Besides, all those veggies are good for me.”

  “You do look radiant these days,” Mom said. “Although I expect that’s more because of young love than your diet.”

  She didn’t deny it. Over the past month, her connection to James kept growing. She could hardly believe her luck.

  “Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask y’all for the longest. What does ‘sky-clad’ mean?”

  They both stared at her with their mouths open.

  “What?” She looked back and forth between them. “What did I say?”

  Mom colored while Grandma Jo enlightened her. “It means going naked during a coven ritual. As in, only the sky is your clothing. Where did you hear that?”

  “Um, I don’t remember.” She took her bowl to the kitchen and made her escape.

  That Tanner. She had a score to settle with him. She grinned, picturing Grandma Jo sky-clad at a coven meeting. The more she tried to suppress her giggles, the louder she laughed until the kitchen filled with the sound of hysterical hiccupping. Grandma Jo came in with dirty dishes and caught Callie bent over double, tears running down her cheeks.

  “I can guess what’s so funny,” Grandma Jo said with a stern frown. “For that, I do believe I’ll let you clean up the mess all by yourself.” The amused sparkle in her eye let Callie know she wasn’t really offended.

  “No problem. You’re always so good about cooking; this is the least I can do.”

  She gathered the dirty dishes and ran hot water. She actually enjoyed washing dishes and looking out into the night sky. The smells of dinner lingering in the air, the feel of warm soap lathering her hands, the view of stars glistening light-years away—the routine of cleaning up the day’s sustenance felt like a prayer.

  The spring equinox was only a week away, and she looked forward to openly celebrating the rebirth of spring. At Candlemas in early February, when the coven celebrated the secret beginnings of spring growth, she’d felt the stirrings of her power increase. She said nothing to anyone. It would only worry her family and confirm there might be truth about her coming into super witch powers.

  Callie rinsed the final dish and began drying the clean stack. She used to believe February was way too early to celebrate a return to spring, but this Candlemas marked the beginning of a difference. Subtle at first, her awakening increased gradually each passing day.

  “Are you okay, Callie?” Mom’s question brought her focus back to Earth. Ginnie picked up another towel and started drying the utensils.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Nothing’s different.” She groaned inwardly at the bad choice of words.

  “Hmm . . . different. If you say so. I could have sworn I sensed a shift in your aura.” Mom kept her attention on drying the silverware.

  “You did? I thought . . . you know, that most of your psychic abilities were gone except with animals.”

  “That’s what most people believe.” She put the silverware in a drawer. “Over the years, a little of my skill has returned, although it will never be as powerful as before I met your father.”

  “Grandma Jo said you were very gifted.”

  “An
d that Gift has passed onto you.”

  “Mom.” Callie gathered her courage. “I have started to feel a change. I don’t know what to think. All my senses are stronger, and I feel things that, logically, I shouldn’t.”

  Mom smiled, a gentle calmness on her face. “Such as?”

  “It’s hard to explain. But, like, at Candlemas, I could feel the roots of plants and trees tingle beneath my feet. Even though it’ll be weeks before we see green growth in the ground, I could feel it awaken.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Sometimes I’ll just know things. Like, Skye and I were out shopping last week, and I had the sudden urge to go in a different store. I rounded a corner where there was an old man with a cane. I knew he was going to fall, and I had to get to him. The closer I got, the more he teetered. It was like a slow motion picture frame as I caught him before he hit ground.”

  Mom nodded and said nothing.

  The hidden wonders inside tumbled out. “I see people’s auras sometimes even when I’m not trying. I smell what’s for dinner before I walk in the door. Once a hawk—the same one—kept appearing everywhere I went for two days. I know the exact moment the sun sets and the moon rises, and when I meditate, I visualize leaving my body and floating.” She studied Mom’s face. “Does this all sound crazy?”

  Ginnie winced. “‘Crazy’ is a sensitive word for me.”

  Callie put a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. We’ve never talked about it before, so maybe we should. Let’s sit in front of the fire a bit.”

  In the den, Grandma Jo looked up from her book and saw something was up. Without a word, she left them.

  “Lucas’s psychic attack left me weak and confused, but not forever dead to the Craft as we first thought. A witch’s will is a mighty thing. It’s a flame that can never be fully extinguished once it has illuminated the path of the Other Way.”

  “What’s the Other Way?”

  “The way of magic. The path we take as witches.”

  Callie gathered her nerve. “How did it feel right after the attack?”

  “There was a burning sensation and a smell like smoldering wires. An inky, purple smog soaked into every brain cell. I had to concentrate to keep darkness from taking over my mind. Afterwards, I felt an overpowering numbness and lethargy, as if all my senses were wrapped in thick cotton or like being held underwater, and reality shimmered above me but out of reach. Every sound was muffled, making it difficult to understand what people were saying.”