Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by hamilton, rebecca

  “Stay away from me. Stay away from me,” I mutter as I press down harder on the gas.

  My eyelids grow heavy, and I swerve on the road. Luckily there is nothing for me to hit. I straighten the wheel and glance in the rearview. The woman is now standing in the middle of the street, staring at me like I’m something to eat.

  Or something to possess.

  I shake away the thought and continue down the road. My thoughts come rushing back as soon as the creepy spirit is out of sight. Where am I going to go? What have I done?

  I could go beg my way back into Harker Heights, but I’ve probably pissed those witches off to the point that there’s no way they’ll let me back in. I bite my lip. I could go back to Creeper’s. Cuddle up next to Trixie so she can tell me everything is going to be okay.

  But she’s been through enough tonight.

  A rush blows through my brain that usually makes me smile. The height of my high is lowering itself over me. Like always, it whispers like an old friend. It’s going to be okay, Kinsley. You’re safer with me than with anyone else.

  Maybe the high is right. Maybe I did the right thing.

  My eyelids are half-closed when my car comes to a sudden stop, and I lurch up over the steering wheel. With a groan, I fall back into my seat and rub my chest. With a half-hearted frown, I stare out the windshield and spot a tall figure in a top hat. He pulls out a pocket watch, peers down at it, then closes it and places it back in his pocket. He stares at me with his arms crossed over his chest.

  Stern Mac Daddy.

  The threat of a buzzkill mingles in with my pills.

  Normally my heart would leap in my chest at the sight of him. But I’m high as fuck. All I can do is giggle. Mac shakes his head and makes a bee line for my door. He tries the handle only to find it locked. With a finger, he taps on the window. I peer up at him and frown, then shake my head.

  His nostrils flare, and his face flushes red.

  I flutter my eyelids and give him my best innocent stare. His lips twitch like he wants to smile, but the fact that he’s more pissed wins out over his desire to flirt with me.

  He raps on the window once more, this time much louder.

  I sigh and roll down the window. Not because I want to, but because I know he can get in if he wants, anyway. He opens the door with such force, I’m surprised that it doesn’t fly off the hinges. I should feel startled, but under the drug blanket, I don’t feel shit.

  He throws his arms in the air and glares down at me expectantly. I purse my lips. I’m not sure what he’s expecting me to say, but what comes out of my mouth is a giggle.

  His nostrils flare again. It’s kind of cute. He looks like an angry Ken doll.

  “Are you serious, Kinsley?”

  I wrinkle my nose. He’s so not hot when he’s pretending to be my dad. He leans his face into the car and peers into my eyes. With a scoff, he straightens back up.

  “Are you high?”

  I laugh. “As a kite, Sir Mac!” I fall into a fit of giggles.

  He ducks his head so it’s right in front of mine again. “It’s not funny,” he hisses in my face.

  I bite my lip, trying to take him seriously. I nod. This is clearly a very serious situation.

  “Where have you been?”

  My thoughts reach back to fifteen minutes ago. The image of Charming standing in the doorway like I just ripped his heart out and ate it claws at my insides. I shake my head. No, I will not think about that. That is a buzzkill, and I desperately need my buzz.

  I shrug, trying to think of something to say that he might actually believe.

  After a few minutes of staring dumbly up into his face, I come up with nothing. Finally, I shrug again and say, “Just wanted some air?”

  His eyes open so wide, he looks like a pissed off owl. “You wanted some air?” His voice is full of disbelief. “You wanted some air?” And now he’s yelling.

  I frown, testing my high. With a sigh of relief, I realize it’s still fully intact.

  I smile at him. “What are you doing out here, Mac?”

  He glares at me for several minutes. During this time, my eyelids start to droop.

  “I’m here looking for you.” He shakes his head. “Obviously.”

  My eyes pop open. “Why?”

  He sighs, clearly frustrated with me. Maybe I should offer him a happy pill, but they’re mine, all mine! My head sways, and a welcome warm rush flows through my body.

  “To take you back to Harker Heights.”

  I blink at him twice. “What?”

  He leans toward me again, placing one hand on the hood of my car. “How many of those things did you take?”

  “Just enough, Mackey, just enough.” I smile. “I’m surprised I’m even allowed back in the Heights. I figured you guys were pretty pissed.”

  “Some of us are pretty pissed, but not only are you welcome back, you are required back.”

  I frown, not liking the sound of that. “Why?”

  “Oh, because we’d like to know how a human breached one of the strongest magical defenses in the city. Hell, in the world.”

  Oh, that.

  He leans in closer and sniffs me. I smash myself back into my seat.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Smelling you.”

  I roll my eyes. “Obviously. Why?”

  “Have you been doing…magic?”

  My breath catches in my throat. Memories of Charming float to the forefront of my mind. I close my eyes and force them away. I reach into my pocket and pop another pill. Mac stares at me like I’m a puppy that just got run over.

  I hate pity.

  “Of course not. And I’m not going with you,” I finally say, trying to close the door.

  He holds it open. “I’m sorry, Kinsley, but I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”

  Before I can say anything, he slams the door closed and presses his hands against the window. I open my mouth and an enormous pressure bears down on me. The car starts to vibrate and me along with it. Then a bright light fills my eyes. I squeeze them closed and fall into the nothing.

  When the pressure subsides, I open my eyes.

  I’m back inside the gates of Harker Heights.

  MAC RIPS OPEN the door and pulls me out. He’s not rough, but he’s not gentle, either. Everyone is outside on the front lawn of the main house, sending Chinese lanterns floating into the air. The buzz of human speech and the melody of their laughter are all around me.

  The last pill I took is kicking in right about now, and I can barely stay on my feet. Mac has to support most of my weight. My vision is blurry, and I blink constantly, trying to banish the fog to the edges of my sight. I know most of it is the drugs, but the way I got back here certainly didn’t help.

  Witchy teleportation is officially my least favorite way to travel.

  Mac steers me toward the main house and up the front stairs. It’s easy to ignore all the eyes that take us in. Hell, at this point I can barely think. I stop in the middle of the staircase and smile at everyone. Another wave of dizziness hits me, and I lean over in Mac’s arms. I want to sit down, but he won’t let me.

  “Kinsley, please.”

  In response to his plea, I turn to dead weight in his arms. He sighs, lets me slide to the nearest step, and then scoops me up in both arms and carries me the rest of the way. I spot my mother right next to the door. She has another glass of that special wine in her hands. Her face is white as moth balls. I smile and give her a sloppy wave. Nelson is nowhere to be found.

  As soon as we cross the threshold into the main house, Mac plants me on my feet, and his mother whooshes in from out of nowhere. Her silver-streaked hair waves like an angry flag behind her.

  “Take her to the Truth room,” she hisses into Mac’s face.

  I’m too high to give a shit about what she’s talking about, but Mac blanches. With a glance at me, he leans closer to Gemma.

  “Are you sure that’s necessary?” His voice sounds urgent.


  Maybe I should be worried.

  Gemma’s eyes narrow. “Don’t you think this young lady has caused enough of a disturbance for one night?” She says ‘young lady’ like she really means something else.

  I stay quiet. Even high off my hiney, I know better than to mess with Gemma. She’s one scary ass witch.

  “Yes, Mother. But I don’t think this calls for all…”

  She waves a hand through the air, and Mac falls silent.

  “Are you arguing with me?”

  “Of course not, Mother. I’m just begging that you see reason.”

  “I do, perhaps better than you.” She leans in close, and I don’t hear the rest of what she says.

  But Mac’s face goes even whiter than it already is. I’ve never actually seen that shade of white anywhere. I tilt my head, studying him, trying to work out how he managed to turn such a shade.

  His jaw clenches, and he gives his mother a curt nod.

  She draws away from him, hands planted on her hips, and gifts me a snide smile. “Lovely to have you back, Miss Lane.”

  I frown. Something tells me she’s completely full of shit. Not that I’m dumb enough to tell her that.

  I nod. “Good to be back.”

  Gemma adjusts the pointy hat on her head and gives her son one last look before vanishing outside.

  With a sigh, Mac turns to me. “You’ll have to come with me.”

  I shrug. “Whatever.”

  He hesitates before taking my arm. I stumble behind him, barely keeping myself upright as he leads me through the kitchen and out the back door. I admire all the intricate hedges glowing in the light of the full moon as he drags me across the back lawn. They look so ready to leap to life that my heart actually responds to them. A few times, I almost take off running, not that I’d make it far.

  Mac leads me around a fountain, through more grass, and finally to a cottage on the outskirts of the backyard.

  I frown. “I’m not really in the mood for some romantic interlude,” I mutter, my thoughts fighting not to find their way back to Charming. Mac was cute—gorgeous—but after the way Charming touched me, I’m pretty sure he’s ruined all men for me.

  Mac chuckles. “Oh, Kinsley. This is anything but that.”

  I turn to him, and he snaps his fingers. I raise my eyebrows, and then face the cottage to find it gone. In its place is a large, boxed-shape room painted in midnight tones. It’s covered in millions of small, white question marks. And there doesn’t seem to be any door.

  Turning back to Mac, I say, “I don’t understand.”

  He gives me a sad sort of smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m really sorry about this.”

  “Sorry about what?”

  Instead of answering, he claps his hands three times. A doorway has appeared. I squint, trying to see inside, but there’s only endless blackness.

  “Kinsley Lane,” Mac mumbles beside me.

  Before I can ask him “what,” an invisible energy reaches out and latches itself onto me. I gasp and try to pull myself free. The harder I struggle, the tighter its grip becomes. I turn to Mac and start to ask him for help. When I see the look on his face, I stop struggling.

  “Oh.”

  He did this. He commanded this room, whatever it is, to do this to me. I go limp once again, and the room sucks me into its total darkness. For a brief second, the light from the moon outside gives shape to my surroundings.

  Then the doorway closes, and there is nothing but the sound of my thundering heart.

  I STARE AT the spot where the doorway just was and crumble to the ground. The floor is hard and cold like cement. I press my face against it, my head still swimming. For a few seconds, I try to make out my surroundings. It doesn’t take me long to give up.

  Curling up into a ball, I sigh. “What the hell is this place?”

  As if in response to my voice, the room seems to expand like some living thing expelling a huge breath. I can’t see anything, but I can feel it. My surroundings constrict then expand, making me feel like I’m in a giant set of lungs.

  I gasp. “What the hell?”

  “You really shouldn’t ball up on the floor like that, Kinsley,” a familiar, yet unfamiliar, voice hisses at me. “It makes you look fat.”

  I feel a figure looming over me. Then light fills the place. Bright, blinding light. Light so bright I’m sure my skin will melt under its glare. I groan and close my eyes, but I can’t even hide from it under my eyelids.

  I crawl onto my hands and knees and shuffle across the floor into the corner where the light is still blazing but somewhat bearable. When I open my eyes, tears fall from the corners of them. Squinting through the light, I find only an empty room. Not only is there no furniture, there are no windows or doors.

  But then how did I get in?

  I bite my lip, knowing the answer.

  Magic.

  I’m really getting tired of the stuff.

  Through the stark brightness, a figure dressed in what looks like white scrub eases her way toward me. When she’s close enough, I make out the tightened-from-Botox face of my mother.

  Only, she’s not my mother.

  Sure, she looks like her with her tight bun and her constant expression of disapproval, but it’s not her. She pulls the surgical mask she’s wearing around her mouth down and smiles at me.

  Definitely not my mother. This woman’s teeth are too perfect. My mom’s teeth wear the abuse of years of smoking and drinking. These teeth look untouched by all vices.

  “Who are you?” I ask in a rough voice.

  The mother lookalike fans her arms out to her sides and twirls in a circle. When she’s facing me again, she wears a huge, clown-like smile.

  “Why, Kinsley, don’t you recognize me? It’s your mother, dear.”

  I back farther into the corner. “You’re not my mother.”

  She frowns and pats herself down. “You sure about that?”

  My eyes narrow. I wipe my tears off on my sleeve. “What is this?”

  The woman sits down, and a white chair zooms across the room to meet her. It’s in place by the time she plops her ass into it. I shake my head and try to rub the burn out of my eyes.

  I stretch my eyes open just as the woman crosses her legs and clicks her tongue.

  “You know how they say everyone has a twin?” She flashes those virgin teeth at me.

  I stay crouched in the corner, panting and peering up at her.

  “Well I…” She flips her hair. “Am everyone’s twin.” Another smile.

  I shake my head. It’s still swimming, but my high is wearing off. I blame it on this bright ass, buzzkill of a room.

  “I don’t understand,” I say.

  She winks at me. A gesture I’ve never seen on my mother’s face. It kind of freaks me out. “You can just call me truth.”

  I would roll my eyes, but a headache is slowly building near my temples. “Whatever.”

  Her eyebrows edge toward the center of her face. “You don’t seem afraid.”

  I laugh. “I’m annoyed by my mother, not afraid.”

  She tilts her head to the side. “What are you afraid of, Kinsley?”

  I wiggle out of my crouched position and slouch to the floor, leaning my back against the wall. My high is hanging on by a thread.

  With a sigh, I ask, “Why would I tell you that?”

  She lifts out of her chair, and it zips back across the room. I follow it with my gaze, but it doesn’t hit a wall like I expect. It just disappears. When I look back, the woman is crouched down in my face.

  I gasp and slam my hand over my heart. “People sneaking up on me scares me!”

  She smiles—no, not smiles—leers down into my face.

  “The Harker witches want answers from you.”

  I stare into her unnatural eyes. Green like my mother’s, but not a human green. A murky, swamp-colored green. I half-expect a monster to leap out from her irises.

  I gulp. “Well, I have questio
ns, too.” I try to keep my voice from shaking.

  “It doesn’t really work that way.” She smiles again and sits cross-legged in front of me.

  I square my shoulders. “Well, if I don’t get answers, you don’t get answers.”

  A dark shadow crosses over her face. “I highly doubt that.”

  I continue to stare at her. She continues to smirk at me. Finally, after several moments of silence, she booms with laughter and slaps her knee.

  “Tell you what. I like you, girl. One question.” Her smile twists into something more sinister. “Then the fun begins.”

  Why in the hell did I leave Charming? I shake my head. I can’t let him into my thoughts. If I do, I’ll break down and assume the pathetic position.

  “Fine.” My eyes dart around the brightness of the room. “What is this place?”

  “The Truth room.”

  “Yes, I know. But what is the truth room?”

  “That’s two questions.”

  My face wrinkles. “Yes, well, your first answer invited another question.”

  She laughs then leans uncomfortably close to me. I can smell her breath from here. It smells like pickles and mayonnaise. I shudder.

  “You know the expression ‘the truth shall set you free?’”

  I nod.

  “Well.” She sweeps her arms out with a flourish. “This room takes that saying quite literally.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Three questions now, my dear.”

  “Meaning?” I hold up my hand before she can say anything and scowl. “I know, that’s four.”

  She smiles like a predatory cat about to pounce. “Meaning, when you tell the truth, the room will set you free.” She turns her head to the side, and a loud crack issues from her neck. “Now, for the last and obvious question.” She gestures to me with her hand.

  I gulp. “And if I don’t?”

  “Well, then.” She laughs. “The room will keep you here forever.”

  14

  MY HIGH IS completely gone, and I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. I reach into my pocket, pull out another pill, and swallow it down like I always do—dry. The thing that looks like my mother is now pacing in front of me. When I pop the pill, she stops and looks down.