A Little Wicked (The Bewitching Hour Book 4)

by Mallory Crowe

  Even though Abigail had soundly kicked her ass multiple times, it was hard to be afraid. She was certain Derek was carrying a weapon, and when she wasn’t against the darkness, Sam could handle herself. She had more control over herself than ever, and thanks to her recent bout with Derek, she was refreshed and recharged.

  “Okay, really, what are we doing?” she asked once they were a few blocks away.

  “We are going for a walk.”

  “I can see that. Are we walking anywhere in particular? Or is this your version of romance?”

  Derek stopped and looked at her. “Take a breath.”

  She breathed in deeply through her nose and was grateful that they were in a cleaner part of the city. It smelled like concrete and night. “Okay,” she said skeptically.

  “Now look around you.”

  She glanced up at the apartment buildings around them. A lot of the lights were off, but a few were on and glittering, offering a soft glow in addition to the street lights.

  “There are thousands of people around us right now. We feel alone, but here, in this city, you’re never really alone.”

  “What are we doing?” She continued to look around. Even though she knew how populated the city was, it was strange to have him say it like that.

  “When I first became a detective, it wasn’t what I thought it would be. I wanted to save lives and help people. But the people I was helping weren’t always the good guys. And the bad guys didn’t always walk away in handcuffs. So when I couldn’t figure out why I was doing this crap any more, I’d come out here. Because for every scumbag who gets away or every fight I lose, I have to remember that the world I see on the day-to-day basis isn’t the real world. The real world is behind those doors. The people who don’t cause any trouble. The civilians who get caught in the middle. The people who can’t go for a peaceful walk at three a.m. because they think they’re going to die. They need people like us. People willing to get uncomfortable and deal with the bottom-feeders.”

  He fell quiet for a moment as he glanced around them at the street. “For a while, I felt guilty for feeling this way. I’d worked so damn hard to get promoted to detective and now that I had it, I wasn’t going to be one of those pussies who couldn’t cut it.”

  She let out a snort. “I can’t imagine anyone ever accusing you of being that.” The feminist side of her hated using the word pussy as an insult, but she had a feeling the rough and tumble cops he worked with didn’t share the same concerns.

  “The point is, it’s okay to feel unsure. It’s okay to feel afraid. But as long as you remember what you’re working for, and who you’re working for, it gets better.”

  “You’re too good for me.” She glanced up, trying to imagine all the people around them like he was saying.

  “I’m not just doing this for me. I’m doing it for Joe.”

  She remembered the story of the brother who had gone off to fight for the country and died. A reminder that life wasn’t fair and not everyone got a happy ending.

  Maybe people like her and Derek weren’t meant for happily ever after. Maybe things would never slow down enough for them to have a normal date at an Italian restaurant. Maybe they’d never have the two point five kids running around their feet with a loving grandmother to watch over them while she and Derek stole a few minutes together.

  Sam didn’t know why that thought made her sad. She’d never had a normal life. Even as a child, her father had died much too young. And then after her powers activated, she’d lived in fear of hurting someone. Until she actually had hurt someone. From the minute those poor people had died because of her, she should’ve known she wouldn’t get to ride off into the sunset.

  But then she looked back to Derek. He was so strong and sure of his place in the world. He was so willing to face the darkness. Not just the magic working its way through her family, but the darkness in humans’ hearts as well.

  Sam couldn’t help herself as she closed the distance between them and kissed him. It wasn’t soft or gentle, but she kissed him with every fiber of her being. This self-sacrificing man deserved so much more than she had to offer.

  But, damn it, while he was around, she was going to work her hardest to give him everything he deserved. “I love you,” she breathed against his lips.

  His hands went to the small of her back and he held her close. “Sam,” he breathed. “You’re everything for me. You know that, right? I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but you’re everything in mine. And that’s never going to change. You’re it.”

  Sam squeezed her eyes shut and a tear rolled over her cheek. She didn’t know whether it was from happiness or guilt, but it didn’t matter. Because Derek was there and hers and for that moment, she couldn’t ask for anything more.

  She didn’t apologize any more. She didn’t ask for his forgiveness. She just kissed him again, taking her time and tasting him, not worrying that they were in the middle of the sidewalk or that the entire world could be fracturing apart around them.

  In this moment, she had everything she ever wanted. Derek could think about all the innocent people he was protecting in his dark moments, but in hers, she’d have this one minute of perfection.

  Claire tossed the covers off her and stared angrily at the ceiling as though it were at fault for her insomnia. She snorted and forced herself to turn her face away. This wasn’t the ceiling’s fault.

  It was Jackson. It had been bad enough when she was imagining him everywhere she turned. But that hellhound venom had done more than inspire a vision. She’d actually seen him. She’d seen exactly where she’d sent him.

  She’d only been in hell for a few moments and she’d nearly had a heart attack in fright. He’d been there for weeks. She shouldn’t feel guilty. She wouldn’t feel guilty.

  He deserved everything he got. He’d hurt so many people. He’d killed so many people. And Claire couldn’t forget what he’d done to her. He was the one who had found her and pointed her out to Tommy Collins in the first place. Even though Heather let it slip that he’d tried to keep her safe in the end, that didn’t make him a good person.

  He was a bad person who liked her. And how should she feel about a sociopath developing feelings for her? She’d used those feelings against him too. She knew that when she grabbed his arm he’d be too shocked to do anything, and then by the time she’d used her powers on him, it would be too late for him to fight.

  It wasn’t as if she’d shot him once and been done with it. She’d stared him right in the eyes as the light had filtered out and suddenly he was just the husk of a man in front of her.

  Why couldn’t that be it? She was hardly the first person to kill in self-defense or defense of others. But somehow he wouldn’t leave her alone.

  Claire sat up in bed. This was ridiculous. She was never going to fall asleep, and trying to was proving to be an exercise in futility.

  “Hello, Claire,” said a smooth voice from the shadows.

  Claire jumped off the bed. The blankets crumpled to the floor around her as she stared into the shadows, trying to make out the intruder.

  A second later, Claudia stepped into the dim light filtering in through the window. Claire felt utterly underdressed in her tank top and panties, but somehow the idea of reaching for a blanket to cover herself seemed like an admission of weakness, so she remained where she was as she faced Sam’s grandmother.

  It made her feel better to think of Claudia as her friend’s grandmother. If she thought of Claudia as the head of all witches or one of the most dangerous people in the world or as one of the people who helped kill all other soul suckers, it was just too terrifying to deal with. “Knocking is considered polite,” said Claire, trying to keep any tremors of fear out of her voice.

  “What I wanted to talk to you about is best discussed in private.” Claudia took a few steps forward until she could sit down on the bed.

  Claire shifted her weight and looked down at Claudia. In the few brief meetings she’d ha
d with the woman, she rarely went on a lower level than others in the room. She didn’t know whether it was an intentional show of power or maybe Claudia just subconsciously projected dominance wherever she went.

  Claire wanted to ask what Claudia wanted to talk about, but she already knew. What else would cause her to sneak in to speak to Claire alone? “You want me to go after Abigail.”

  Claudia was quiet for a moment before she answered. “I want the darkness to stop hurting people,” she said finally. “Isn’t that what you want too?”

  She didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t want anyone else to get hurt, but she also knew that she would die if she faced Abigail, and that possibility was just…. She couldn’t. “I don’t want the people I care about to suffer anymore,” she said honestly. Maybe if it was just strangers, she could separate herself from the situation. Maybe then she could let everyone else go to hell and live her life the way she wanted. With the perfect boyfriend, best friends, and a dead-end job like other millennials. Because didn’t she deserve something? Ever since her magic manifested in front of her family, things had gone to hell for her. They might’ve been her adoptive family, but until that moment, they hadn’t felt that way. It was her mother and father and younger sister. They were the ones who looked at her as if she’d grown horns and a tail. They were the ones who turned their backs on her.

  Now that she finally found where she truly belonged, was she going to have to give up everything again? But Claire couldn’t ask Claudia such existential questions. Instead, she kept to the more practical. “The place I went to, the place I saw Jackson…. Will I go there after I kill the darkness?”

  Claudia looked at Claire with a look of pity that was much more gutting than anything she could’ve said. “I wish I knew,” said Claudia.

  Claire sat on the bed, facing away from Claudia. She didn’t want to cry and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly, forbidding any tears from escaping. Not now. Not in front of this woman. After a few seconds, she regained control of her emotions. “What do I need to do?”

  “If you say good-bye, they’ll try to stop you.”

  It should upset her, but it didn’t. She didn’t want any tearful good-byes or fights about what she should do. Sam and Derek had already saved her too many times. And this was an enemy that they couldn’t beat.

  And Dante…. She couldn’t let him die for her. She knew he would. He barely knew her, but somehow she had inspired him to be so loyal and decent when she was barely there for him at all. He deserved so much more than her. He deserved someone who could love him back. Someone who wasn’t consumed by visions of a monster who should be long gone.

  Claire didn’t say anything as she got up and found some jeans and sneakers. She looked around, thinking what else she needed. Bra. She didn’t want to die without a bra. Claudia looked away as Claire finished getting dressed and pulled her hair back in a ponytail. After that, she was done. She didn’t want to go through any tearful good-byes, but she decided to take her phone. Just because she didn’t want to say good-bye didn’t mean she needed to scare the crap out of them by disappearing.

  So once she had her phone, that was it. There was nothing else she needed to take with her. “All right. What now?”

  Claudia stood. Claire couldn’t help but admire her outfit. It was all black, standard for Claudia, but the pants were a flowing loose fabric that looked fabulous and functional at the same time. Claire never thought she’d feel underdressed when going to her death, but Claudia had that effect on people.

  Without another word, Claudia set a hand on Claire’s shoulder, and a second later, the world seemed to shift and melt away before resolidifying around them.

  The new location was bright and Claire blinked as she adjusted to the light. It was an apartment, and from the looks of it, an expensive one. They were up high in a skyscraper that overlooked Central Park. It was too dark to make out the trees, but Claire could tell from the absence of light from the large rectangle.

  “Is this yours?” She wandered to the windows to look out at the city.

  “I’m borrowing it,” said Claudia evasively.

  Claire had wondered where the woman went after Abigail had evicted her from her building, but she hadn’t exactly been able to ask.

  “So what’s the plan?” She turned back to Claudia. “There’s a plan, right?”

  “That’s the beauty of you. You don’t need a spell or incantation or herbs for this. All you have to do is be yourself. Just like Jackson. As soon as you touch my daughter, it will start.”

  Claire nodded and curled her hands into fists. So all she had to do was touch Abigail. That sounded so easy and hard at the same time. “What about Abigail?”

  Not a single expression crossed Claudia’s face. “You can’t choose what life force you are drawing from. As you pull the darkness from her, she will be expelled as well and die.”

  Damn it. Sam would lose her mother and Claudia would lose a daughter. In some sick way, it made Claire feel better. At least Claudia wasn’t asking herself to sacrifice her life so she could go back to normal. They would all lose in this situation.

  “And the darkness is going to take me with it?” Maybe Claudia was wrong. Maybe this would be just like Jackson.

  “A life force is power incarnate, but it is not alive. Once you absorb it, you gain the power and it dies. The darkness is a living entity. When you take it inside, it will fight you. It will try to take over. Because of who and what you are, it won’t win. It will fight until it dies and we will finally be free. But your own life force won’t be able to survive the assault.”

  Claire nodded as if she understood anything Claudia was saying. She remembered what it felt like to take the life from Jackson, but there had been no fight. It had felt warm. As sick as it was, the actual process of killing him had felt fantastic. She’d been energized and refreshed afterward.

  But Jackson wasn’t Abigail. He had been working with the darkness. Abigail was the darkness. You didn’t go up against that kind of evil and expect to make it out alive. “So what now?” asked Claire.

  “You stay here. Prepare yourself the best you can. I will find Abigail and once I know she’s vulnerable, I’ll take you there. We won’t have much time. The second she realizes you’re there, she’ll try to kill you. The element of surprise is our only chance. You see her, you touch her. Understand?”

  She nodded. “I won’t hesitate.”

  “Good.” A second later, Claudia was gone.

  Claire blinked a few times, confirming she wasn’t imagining anything. She’d never seen anyone teleport before. Was that a normal witch thing? Probably not. Maybe it would’ve been something she could’ve learned if she’d had long enough to get a hold of her magic.

  She was about to wallow in her own self-pity when she heard movement in the other room. She stiffened as she approached the sound. “Hello?” she called.

  A second later, Bastian appeared in the doorway to what appeared to be the kitchen and Claire let out a sigh of relief. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  “Sorry,” he said.

  She never thought she’d be in an apartment alone with Bastian. Partly because Bastian seemed to be a package deal with Claudia. “You’re not doing bodyguard duty?” she asked, struggling for small talk with the man she had so little in common with.

  “Moving around space like that takes energy,” he said completely seriously. “It would be too much of a strain to take me with her.”

  Claire frowned. She didn’t want to think about Claudia being tired. Claudia keeping her wits and power were kind of instrumental to her getting to Abigail. And Claudia needed to find Abigail and get away before she was discovered. What if Claudia never came back? Would Claire have to search Abigail out on her own? Would she chicken out if she didn’t have Claudia standing sternly behind her?

  She hated to think that the fear could get the best of her, but every time she stopped to think about what she was actually about to do, the f
ear and doubts would swarm her mind.

  So she refused to dwell on it and instead turned her attention back to Bastian. “You’re not afraid.”

  Bastian didn’t say anything and walked back into the kitchen. She followed him as he pulled out a plate of some sort of meat—it looked like chicken—out of the microwave. He normally wore a suit and, since the darkness came around, a long sword. In this more casual setting, he had taken off his jacket and his sword sat on the counter, a menacing reminder that even here he wasn’t totally comfortable.

  “Fear doesn’t serve much of a purpose.” He pulled out a fork and started to pile the food into his mouth.

  “What are you?” she asked. Sam had been chomping at the bit to find out the truth about him. Now that Claire was never going to see Sam again and she probably would never have a better chance to find out, she might as well ask. It wasn’t as though he could get upset at her for asking ballsy questions. She deserved at least this.

  “I’m somewhat like you.” He kept eating.

  “You’re not a soul sucker,” she accused.

  “I’m one of a kind.”

  Okay, so he didn’t want to give her a straight answer. She could deal with that. She’d gotten something. One of a kind. A lot of people would use that as a compliment, but Claire knew better than anyone it was more of a curse than anything.

  It was lonely. It was isolating. And obviously whatever made him one of a kind was important enough to be kept a secret even from someone who was about to die. “Claudia likes you,” said Claire. “That has to be a plus.”

  He didn’t say anything, but he stared off into space with an intense look of… pain? She realized she was wrong. Whatever it was that bonded him and Claudia and made him so loyal, it wasn’t a good thing. At least not to him.

  “I’ll leave you alone.” Claire backed up and walked away.

  She went back to the living room of the posh apartment and fell into the couch. It was gorgeous and a bright white, but not nearly as comfortable as the couch at Dante’s. She pulled the pillow close to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut. He’d be better off without her.