Psychic Storm: Ten Dangerously Sexy Tales of Psychic Witches, Vampires, Mediums, Empaths and Seers

by Deanna Chase

  I rolled my eyes.

  “How long have you been dating Ian?”

  “I’m not dating Ian.” What the hell? Who did he think he was? I tried to move past him but he put his arm out, blocking me.

  “You just went on a date with him. That’s dating where I come from.”

  “Fine, I’m dating Ian.” Irritated, I flung a hand out, gesturing to the stairwell. “Can I go up to my apartment now?”

  “I didn’t picture you with a guy like that.” Kane’s eyes stayed level with mine.

  “You were picturing me with guys?” I smiled, my irritation replaced by smug satisfaction.

  “No.”

  “Okay, sure.” My smiled blossomed into a grin. “Excuse me, but these feet are ready for some pampering, so if you’ll kindly move—”

  “This was, what, the second date?” Kane asked, still blocking the stairwell.

  “What? No. The first,” I said, caught off guard.

  “Huh, I must have been mistaken.”

  I smirked, remembering the night Ian stayed over. “Why are you so interested?”

  “I’m just wondering why.” He shrugged.

  “Why what, exactly?”

  “Why you’re dating him?”

  “Because he asked.” I pushed past him and paused for just a moment. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

  Chapter 10

  Sitting at my computer, I took a big bite of my freshly made omelet. My hangover specialty. I wasn’t nauseous, so I knew it wasn’t really a hangover, but I’d woken up with a headache. Maybe the smoke in the jazz club caused it. More likely, it was Ian and his nonstop ghost hunting. Or possibly the latest dream I’d had—but I didn’t want to think about it.

  I went for a second cup of coffee, leaving my breakfast on the desk. As I poured the drink, a loud knock sounded on the door.

  Checking the peephole, I bit my lip, took a deep breath and opened the door. “Good morning, Kane.”

  “Morning.”

  “What’cha got there?” I eyed two paper coffee cups and a pastry bag.

  He held a cup out.

  I inhaled the sweet honey spice of chai. “You’re my hero!”

  “Mission accomplished.” He set the bag on the counter.

  “Breakfast, too?”

  He nodded.

  I picked up the bag and peeked inside. “Chocolate muffins? That’s not breakfast, that’s dessert. You’re sweet, but my breakfast is right there.” I pointed to the desk, trying to behave.

  Kane looked to my omelet then back at me. “Aren’t you going to share after I brought you a chai?”

  My gaze shifted from the plate to the muffins, and I shrugged. “Sure.” If I was going to be polite and eat the muffin he brought me, I needed to save some room.

  I grabbed another fork, returned to my desk and cut a line through the middle of the omelet. “That half is yours.”

  “Don’t trust me?” he asked with mock surprise.

  After claiming a spot on the couch, I gestured for him to join me. “Nope.”

  Kane’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. Damn, that was sexy. My heart melted.

  Lost in my own thoughts, I missed what he was saying. “Huh?”

  “You forgot your chai.”

  “Oh yeah, thanks.” I grabbed the cup and a muffin and reclaimed my seat. “What brings you by this morning?”

  “The ghost report.”

  Damn it. Why did my life have to be all about the ghost? I sampled my chocolate muffin, and then relayed the information I’d learned from Ian.

  “The ghost is attached to Pyper too?”

  “I don’t know. He apparently likes her since he showed up in her photos.”

  “I better tell her.” Kane got up, taking the plate to my sink.

  “All right. See you later.” I waved from the sofa.

  He lifted one eyebrow. “Trying to get rid of me? And after I brought you breakfast?”

  “Uh, no…I just thought you said you were…never mind.”

  “Do I make you nervous, Jade?” Kane walked toward me.

  “No.” I stood up, concentrating on the cinnamon flakes in his eyes.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “In that case, have dinner with me tonight.” His voice held a bit of a challenge.

  “What makes you think I don’t have plans?”

  “Considering you ditched your date last night without inviting him up, I’m not too worried.” However, nervous energy radiated off him like static. If I hadn’t had my special ability I’d be thinking he was a smug bastard right about now.

  My lips turned up in a little smile.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “I’m thinking it over,” I said, enjoying myself.

  “Hmm, let me convince you.” The nervous energy vanished, replaced by determination and confidence. He leaned in, eyes locked on mine. I stood motionless as one arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me close. He bent his head, bringing his lips inches from mine. I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing.

  His lips brushed mine while his free hand trailed down my bare neck. My body shivered against his, and he chuckled softly.

  Closing my eyes, I focused on the nerve endings, which sent electric shocks through my body.

  “Tonight at eight,” he whispered.

  “Okay.”

  His lips clasped my lower lip, sucking almost painfully, until a small moan escaped my throat. At the sound he crushed me to him, tongue exploring. I molded my body to his unyielding frame, desperate to be closer. The passion of my nightly dreams sparked a fierce intensity, propelling the aching need deep in my center.

  He pulled back. “Eight it is.”

  “Huh?” I looked up, dazed and breathless.

  “I’ll pick you up at eight for dinner.”

  “Right. Dinner.”

  Kane leaned in, brushing a soft kiss over my cheek. “Thanks for breakfast.” Then he left.

  “Holy Jesus.” I stared at the door. A flash of light to my right startled me. The apparition grew into the shape of a person, glowed a bright gold, turned red, then melted into a blob on the floor before finally evaporating.

  Leaning back, I put a hand over my eyes. “This is too weird.”

  Feeling like I was being watched, I headed to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and took off for the studio.

  Sweat trickled down my back as I fumbled with the key in the doorknob. “Damn it! Come on.” Glancing at my watch, I groaned. Only twenty-five minutes until Kane was due to pick me up.

  I’d been grateful for the distraction of the weekly beadmaking class earlier that day. Thank God Bea had been there. Her energy calmed me just enough to be able to teach the class successfully. I really wanted to know how she did that. Maybe I should have taken her up on her invitation. When she’d asked me after class to join her for lunch I’d turned her down. I’d already committed to helping out a fellow glass worker in the hot shop making paper weights and goblets. It had been the perfect thing to get my mind off my ghost and my upcoming date. Unfortunately, I’d completely lost track of time. No way was I going to be ready by eight. Kane would just have to be patient.

  At the thought of him I practically swooned. It’s a damn good thing I’d been busy all day. If it hadn’t been for that I’d be ready to explode by now. Who was I kidding? I was a walking time bomb, and just the thought of him lit my fuse.

  But first I needed a shower. Maybe a cold one. I taped a note to the door, telling Kane to come in and wait in case I didn’t hear him knocking.

  Grabbing my favorite green cotton skirt and a black tank top along with my favorite bra and matching thong, I headed to my bathroom, thinking I’d be quick. However, removing the hair from my legs proved to be more important. My quick bath turned into a longer grooming session than normal.

  Stepping out of the shower, I spied the Honey Dust. Unable to resist, I applied it all over with a silly grin on my face. After I was dressed, I poked my head out of
the bathroom and spotted Kane relaxing on my couch.

  I smiled. “Hey there.”

  “Hey yourself. Mighty risky asking me to let myself in while you’re in the shower, don’t you think?” His lips turned into a sly smile.

  “No choice in the matter. Sorry I’m running late. Grab yourself something to drink out of the fridge. I’ll be out in ten.” I winked and shut the door. Twenty minutes later, my hair and makeup done, I strolled out of the bathroom.

  Kane stood up, gave me an approving glance and kissed my cheek. “Nice. Ready for dinner?”

  “Definitely.” I took his hand, and we walked toward the door. As I was closing it, a gust of wind kicked up and slammed it hard. “Oh!” I said, startled. “Must have left the window open.” I turned the key in the lock. “Let’s go.”

  Kane fell in step behind me. “No, you didn’t.”

  “Didn’t what?”

  “Leave the window open. I closed it while you were getting ready. It looks like a storm might blow through, and I didn’t want you to forget about it.” He opened the door to the street for me.

  I stopped in the middle of the doorjamb. “You did? Damn it. That’s twice today.”

  “Your door slammed like that twice today?”

  “No.” I turned around to face him. “My ghost made two appearances. I don’t think he likes you much.”

  “Huh?”

  “He appeared after you left this morning, and apparently just slammed the door on us.”

  “Did you call Ian?” Kane frowned, unhappiness flowing from him.

  “No. I was busy and forgot.” His unhappiness dissipated, replaced by relief. I stared at him, confused. “You don’t want me to call Ian?”

  “No, not right now, but if you need to fill him in on the details, I can wait.”

  “No, no. I’ll call him tomorrow.” And broach how I could get my ghost to be less active. So far Ian seemed to be all about more ghostly action. I was tired of it.

  “Good.” He took my hand and guided me through the crowd of tourists on the side walk. The streets were crowded, and we didn’t talk again until we reached the Bourbon Street Seafood House. He spoke to the hostess, who smiled brightly at him. A moment later we were seated.

  “That was impressive,” I said, scanning the large line of hungry patrons waiting for a table. “Do you have a standing table or something?”

  He laughed. “Not really. Though I do know some of the staff and depending on who’s working, I can sometimes get seated more quickly.”

  I glanced over his shoulder at the attractive brunette taking care of another party. “How do you know her?” I took in her tight, black dress and instantly hated her for the slim, curvy figure it showed off. I frowned and studied the menu in front of me.

  “Who?” He followed my gaze as I looked up. Spotting the woman in question, he said, “Just an old friend. I’ve known her for years.”

  I nodded, trying to appear unconcerned. But I wondered just how good a friend she was and exactly just how much of her he knew. I mentally shook myself. First, I had no claim on this man, though it was becoming clear to me I wanted one, even if my head screamed it was a bad idea. Second, he’d done nothing to warrant my irrational jealousy.

  “Oysters?” he asked.

  My lips twitched. “I hear good things about oysters.”

  He grinned back. “Never tried them yourself?”

  “There’s a first time for everything.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes, and then I asked him about his college days. He told me he went to LSU, which was where he met Pyper. He regaled me with wild stories of their college adventures. Mostly they were about Pyper. She’d changed personas as often as she changed boyfriends. And girlfriends, for that matter. In their sophomore year Pyper came out of the closet. In her junior year she went back in and, finally, by senior year announced there wasn’t a closet and dated both men and women.

  “And you two were best friends through all that?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

  “Pretty much.”

  My eyebrows rose, and he shrugged. I guessed that was all I was getting. “How did you meet?” I asked.

  “She was my neighbor in the dorm our freshman year. She befriended my girlfriend at the time. Eventually they became an item, and I was left in the cold, shunned by the two most beautiful women in the class,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “No!”

  “Yep. It’s okay. I had my eye on someone else anyway.”

  An hour and a half later, full of oysters, grilled redfish, crab and a shared bottle of wine, Kane paid the bill and led me back onto Bourbon Street. Music blared from nightclubs, drowning out the chatter of the mass of people making their way up and down the street. Kane took my hand, guiding me down a side street away from the crowds. “Would you mind taking a walk?”

  The wine had relaxed me considerably, and my hand tingled in his. Even my blistered toe didn’t hurt. “I’d love to.”

  He led me down Iberville Street and turned left on Royal. We strolled along, appreciating the architecture and window shopping the art galleries and antique stores closed up for the night.

  I stopped, studying one building. “Do you ever wonder how the balconies manage to stay in place?” I pointed to the one in front of us. “Look at that one. The balcony is slanted down, and it’s just held on by what looks like L-brackets.”

  He chuckled, putting his arm around my waist. “I try not to think about it.”

  “Good plan.” We walked a few more feet, his arm still around me. I wondered how the buildings themselves managed to stay upright. Many of them dated back to the eighteenth century and if you looked close enough, you could see the buildings leaning slightly one way or another, or in some cases leaning drastically in one direction. I assumed the buildings themselves held each other up, since they were mostly all connected with shared walls.

  My attention shifted to Kane’s hand, which had moved to the small of my back. He stopped beside me, and I did the same, closing my eyes for just a moment to take in the comforting sensation. Kane turned and steered me ninety degrees, causing my heel to stick in the cracked sidewalk.

  “Ouch,” I yelped, buckling.

  Kane’s quick hands steadied me and kept me from falling. “I’m sorry. Are you all right?”

  “I think so.” I put my foot down, testing the weight on my ankle. Grimacing, I lifted my foot, only applying pressure with my toes. “I don’t think I can walk anymore.” At least, not in high heels.

  Concern reached my consciousness before I turned and found it etched on his face. “Sprained?”

  “Probably. I need to get some ice on it. Can you call a cab?” I leaned into him.

  He reached down and easily lifted me up into his arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling weightless and very feminine pressed against his chest.

  “Uh, okay, but you don’t really think you can carry me all the way back to my apartment, do you?” As romantic as it was, even he couldn’t possibly sustain carrying me that far.

  He smiled down at me, “No, just a block.” He took off in easy strides.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “You’ll see.”

  He stopped in front of a beautiful, deep gold Victorian home, trimmed in brick red. I sighed wistfully. “Who lives here?”

  He lowered me gently, my body grazing down the front of his. I stood on the top step, both of my hands on his chest. Heat radiated. Leaning toward him, I stumbled and his arms came around me, steadying me once more. “Careful,” he whispered, his breath warming my ear. My eyes unfocused as his lips brushed against my cheek.

  “Come on.” He produced a key.

  Regaining my senses, I asked, “You live here?”

  Nodding, he opened the door and nudged me inside. “We need to get you off your feet.”

  I’d forgotten all about my ankle.

  The home was a shotgun double. I mentally calculated the cost of such a
place in the French Quarter. As I added up the zeros, my chest tightened. I realized I was holding my breath and slowly let it out. I’d known on some level Kane was a man of means, considering he owned a club and building on Bourbon Street. But for some reason seeing his beautiful home made me feel inferior. I’d never had more than just enough to pay my modest rent.

  Shaking off the ridiculous feeling, I took in my surroundings. Typical shotgun doubles were originally a type of duplex. The front had two doors, but this place had one covered in shutters, with access to only the left side. It had been converted into a single. The story goes, the homes are named shotguns because a person could open the front door, fire a shotgun and the slug would sail out the back door without ever hitting any walls. My first glimpse told me this was true. I could see straight through the living room, dining room and kitchen, clear to the garden in the back. Each room was separated by an archway, carved away in the dividing walls. To the right was what I supposed were bedrooms.

  “This way.” Kane led me into the pale yellow kitchen and pointed to an island in the middle. “Have a seat.”

  I sat, undid my strappy heel and inspected the damage. Not too much swelling, but enough that it would be sore for a few days.

  Kane handed me ice wrapped in a towel. “Here, I’ll get you something to drink.”

  I waited while he poured a couple glasses of wine. “Trying to get me drunk?”

  He grinned. “No, but since no one’s driving…”

  “No driving, but walking on this foot, especially while drunk, is likely to permanently maim me.” I picked up the glass anyway.

  “I hadn’t planned on you walking anytime soon.”

  “Oh, and what were you planning?” I gazed at him through lowered lashes.

  “Dessert.”

  ‘Dessert?”

  “Cheesecake, actually.” He pulled a cake plate out of his refrigerator and set it on the counter.

  “Oh my God. I think I’m in love.” Cheesecake, wine and Kane all in the same room. I hoped I wasn’t drooling.

  Kane paused, mid-slice, and raised his eyes to mine.

  Panic seized my brain. “With cheesecake…and wine. I mean, I love both. I’m not in love with it. Obviously.” I cleared my throat. Someone had taken over my mouth. “It’s an expression.”