Love Potion (An Ariel Kimber Novel Book 2)

by Mary Martel

  “I can’t do that,” he said quietly. He watched me wearily, like he feared my reaction.

  “Why not,” I demanded to know. I hoped he was kidding.

  “It’s the Love Potion, babe.” He rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I figured it was my safest bet when it came to dealing with him. You didn’t like it when I made him sick so I found a way to ensure he wouldn’t hurt you anymore. I don’t know how to stop it, or how to reverse it. Honestly, I didn’t think you’d care so long as I didn’t hurt him.”

  “Love…” I sputtered. “Love potion? What love potion?”

  “Just something I whipped up to keep you safe. Now he’ll never hurt you because he’s in love with you.”

  This was so wrong I didn’t have words for it.

  Thankfully, I found some.

  “Quinton, he wasn’t going to hurt me. He’s just some stupid bully who decided to pick on the new girl. In time, he would have gotten bored with it and moved on to the next person. You should have left him alone. Instead, you turned into a crazy person and did terrible things to him. I mean, seriously? Would you want to be in love with someone because someone else forced you to? I know I wouldn’t. That’s so messed up.”

  Everything Quinton did was messed up in some way.

  “Maybe it is messed up,” he admitted. “Maybe I’m messed up. But, Ariel, I can’t help it. It’s the only way I know how to be. And I’m not gonna change. I tried it before when I got Tyson. I tried to be different. I tried to be better and I missed something important because of it, something that almost wrecked my family.”

  “Annabell,” I whispered, understanding him completely.

  His eyes narrowed dangerously and he moved closer to me. His forehead brushed mine as he tilted his head down and growled, “How do you know that name?”

  This was one of those times where honesty was my best option but I didn’t want to throw my sources under the bus.

  “Ariel,” he demanded in a rough voice, “answer me.”

  “The twins told me about her,” I mumbled, hating to give them up. I hoped Quinton didn’t go home and give them shit for it.

  “Fuck,” he swore harshly. His arms fell away from the wall and he stepped back. “You should never have heard about her. I didn’t want you to know about her. Fuck, Ty’s gonna be so upset when he hears you know this story.”

  I could only imagine they wouldn’t want me to know about her and what Quinton had done to her face.

  The Salt and Pepper twins had told me about Annabell and they’d also told me about what Quinton had done to the beautiful girl’s face. Addison had said Quinton made an example out of Annabell to let the other covens know who they were dealing with when it came to him, to them. And it was, like most things with Quinton, extreme.

  Quinton had concocted some special potion and mixed it in with her facewash. I have no idea what it was he’d used but whatever it was had been potent because it had ruined half her face.

  The ruined half of her face was covered in horrific burns. Even half her mouth had been burnt, frozen for the rest of her days in a melted frown. I know this because I dreamed of her and my dreams always meant something. I couldn’t always figure out the meaning but I knew, I just knew, the face I’d seen in my dream had really been hers.

  And she looked that way because of Quinton.

  His eyes were wide and filled with fear. What was he afraid of? Not me? Maybe my reaction to him? I didn’t know but I’d never seen him look afraid before. It was worrisome.

  “Quinton-”

  He closed his eyes tightly and whispered, “Please don’t be afraid of me now. Please, please, Ariel, do not think I would ever do something like that to you. None of the guys would ever do any-”

  I now understood the fear in his eyes. Quinton and I did not know each other very well even though we’d been through some serious situations together and I spent most of my time running away from him.

  From what I had been told about Annabell, I knew she was a horrible person. The twins claimed that if you were a female witch you were treated differently than the males because there were so few of them. They’re given whatever they want and supposedly can pick whatever coven of their choosing. And every coven wants their own girl. Their own girl to share. Yes, you heard that right, they all share their girl. That way there would be no fighting over who got the girl. Female witches were precious and, I’d been told, every coven wanted one. So much so they were supposed to have no problem with sharing her amongst them. Considering I’m female and a witch, I had a bit of a problem with this.

  Annabell, it seemed, had had no such problems. She’d wanted her own coven to rule over but she didn’t want a pre-made one. She wanted to pick and choose her members, stealing them away from the covens they were already a member of.

  She went from coven to coven, seducing specific members with her beauty and her magic. She liked the rich ones who were willing to give her whatever she wanted. And she wanted to be some kind of queen.

  It was unfortunate for my guys that she’d showed up so soon after the death of Tyson’s parents. They’d been too devastated and grief-stricken to see her for what she really was.

  She got to Tyson, Julian and Damien. My Salt and Pepper twins hadn’t liked her at all. They talked to Quinton. Quinton investigated her. And, well, Annabell ended up with half of a ruined face as a result.

  I sighed and looked Quinton straight in the eyes. Apparently, he needed reassurance. Not that I blamed him, I did bail on him, on them, for weeks.

  “Quint, I’m not Annabell and you’re not my mother.” He snapped his mouth shut and stared at me with wide, startled eyes. It was a cute look for him, though, I’d never call him cute. He was dark, broody, sexy even, but not cute. It looked good on him. “And for some weird reason, I’m not afraid of you either. Now, forget about Chucky and forget about The Not So Beautiful Anymore Annabell. I’ve got something bigger to worry about.”

  The corner of his lips curled up on one side of his face. “Just like that,” he snapped his fingers, “we forget about Annabell and the douche bag?”

  I shrugged. “For now, yeah. Mr. Cole is selling the house and moving. He wants to live closer to his family. He wants to take me with him, Quint. I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t want to go with him either. But I also don’t want to be homeless. I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing. What am I supposed to be doing? I don’t have a mother anymore to make those decisions for me.” I lifted my arms and spread my hands wide. I sounded as desperate as I felt when I begged, “Tell me what I’m supposed to be doing.”

  His body heat engulfed me as he surged forward and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. He pulled me into his chest and I didn’t hesitate to wrap my arms around his middle.

  I inhaled deeply. He smelled like incense and spice. Like Tyson, only darker. It matched his personality.

  He kissed the top of my head and whispered, “Just breathe, baby. Everything will work out how it’s supposed to, you’ll see. You’re not alone and you don’t have to figure it out on your own. We’re all here for you.”

  He sounded like he really believed his words. I wasn’t so sure. It sounded like another one of their promises they were so fond of dishing out. I wasn’t entirely sure I deserved his kindness since I ran from him, ran from them all and cut them out.

  “I don’t think you should be nice to me. Not when I haven’t been very nice to you these past few weeks. I mean, I even turned my phone off so that-”

  One thin, scarred finger covered my lips, silencing me. How did he get those scars? I wanted to know but wasn’t brave enough to ask.

  “We get it. Every one of us gets it. Take as much time as you need. We aren’t going anywhere.”

  And wasn’t that the problem? Time. I was running out of it. He said to take as much time as I needed but what if I needed more than I had?

  Quinton’s hand went to the side of my face and he ran the backs of his knuckles down my
cheek. Soft, gentle, barely a whisper of a touch across my skin.

  My lips parted in surprise as I watched his eyes darken and fill with a heat I’d never before seen.

  “What-”

  “Quiet, baby,” he murmured as his eyes dropped down to my mouth.

  Did he… did scary dude Uncle Quinton want to kiss me?

  I think he did.

  Did I want him to?

  He didn’t give me the time to think about it.

  He kissed me.

  My lips parted in shock when he leaned in. His soft lips brushed mine and he took advantage of my parted lips, darting his tongue inside.

  I gasped. It came out as a strange noise due to the fact he had his lips fused to mine as his tongue explored my mouth.

  My arms came up and I rested my hands on his hard stomach, clenching my hands in the soft fabric of his shirt. I’d never voluntarily touched him before.

  As soon as I touched him he broke the kiss, stepping back. My hands fell away from his stomach and I blinked my eyes open, not remembering when I’d closed them. His tongue snaked out and he swept it across my bottom lip as his dark eyes bored into mine.

  “I’m gonna take care of everything,” he whispered against my lips. “I’m gonna take care of you. You’ll see.”

  He winked at me before moving away. I had his back for a few seconds while he made his way to the open front door. Then he was gone.

  It seemed the Uncle was just like the Nephew and they both wanted to take care of me.

  I pressed shaking fingers to my tingling lips. Uncle Quinton had kissed me… and I could not wait for him to do it again.

  Not even Chucky’s sudden appearance and the fact he’d tried to manhandle me could chase away the warm goodness I was feeling.

  Chapter Four

  I dreamed I was drowning. And I dreamed of the hand that pushed me down, shoving me further into the dark abyss. And I dreamed of another hand.

  The only hand that reached for me while I’m sinking, while I’m drowning, while my world fades to black as the darkness surrounds me.

  Long, lean, scarred fingers reached for me.

  Quinton.

  Quinton was here.

  My light in the dark.

  I sat up in bed with a start. My breath was coming too fast, too quick. I raised a shaking hand and wrapped it around my burning throat.

  It wasn’t real.

  None of it was real.

  Tears trailed down my face, leaving a trail of wetness behind.

  Drowning, I dreamed of drowning, as I had been doing for weeks. This time it was different. I’d been dreaming this same awful dream over and over again and no one had ever reached for me, tried to help me, tried to save me. The dream had always ended with me being swallowed by the darkness, screaming for all I was worth and choking to death on icy water. I would wake up crying, my throat burning, and entirely alone because I had pushed everyone away.

  Tonight was different.

  Tonight, someone had been there to save me, to pull me out of the darkness. I knew it had been Quinton by his fingers. Those scarred fingers I had looked at on more than one occasion and wondered where the scars had come from. I wouldn’t hold back my curiosity next time, I would ask, and because he was Quinton, he’d answer me.

  I looked around my dark bedroom and could feel the walls closing in on me. Panic overrode my fear and the tears stopped seeping out of my eyes. I frantically searched the dark corners of my room looking for what, I had no idea, but I could feel something pressing into me, smothering me.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  The room was too warm, the walls were closing in on me and I escaped one nightmare just to choke on my own panic in another, only this one was of my own creation.

  I felt like an idiot.

  I flung my pretty light blue comforter with the pretty red rose blossoms on it to the side. Without the comforter the room was still too warm.

  I had to get out of here. Now.

  The fact that it was the middle of the night and I didn’t really have anywhere to go never occurred to me.

  I crawled out of bed and practically ran to the door. I needed to get outside, to get to fresh air so I could breathe. I stumbled down the stairs, clinging to the railing and almost tripped when I made the landing.

  I crossed the foyer and made it to the door. I unarmed the security alarm and unlocked the front door. If I forgot the damn alarm the thing would rage at me, loudly.

  I opened the door and stepped out into the night. The cement was cool beneath my bare feet and I shivered. I should have thought to put on shoes and maybe some real clothes. The thin tank top and short-shorts, although cute (they were green and covered in cute little pink hearts) would not save me from the chill in the air.

  At least it wasn’t pitch black out. The moon hung from the sky like a bright glowing orb, full, or close to it.

  I stood there in the moonlight and simply breathed in the crisp night air, chasing back my panic. My chest rose and fell with every deep breath I took.

  I stood there until my breathing returned to normal and my throat stopped burning. Since the nightmare started, I never understood how part of it could follow me out into the real world. It bothered me because I didn’t understand it and I didn’t enjoy being in pain even if it only lasted a short while. It scared me, the bad things weren’t supposed to be able to crawl out of your dreams and chase you back to reality. My throat burning was a physical reminder that I had drowned in a dream. That wasn’t supposed to happen and that’s why it was scary.

  My dreams had always been weird as far back as I could remember. They’d meant something, I just wasn’t always very good at figuring out what it was. I had never told anybody about my dreams before. Then again, before coming here there had never been anyone to tell except for my mother and I shuddered at that happy thought. I could tell the guys and they’d help me to understand them and wouldn’t think they made me a freak.

  I realized with a start that I missed them. I missed Tyson and I missed the Salt and Pepper twins. I hardly knew them but I knew them enough to miss them. Tomorrow I would go and see them, I had let it go for too long. What would I do if they didn’t want to see me? What would I do if they treated me the way I had treated them? That would crush me, break something inside of me I’d somehow miraculously managed to keep safe all this time. A place inside of me where I’d hidden away all of my hopes and dreams, if they rejected me that small place would be snuffed out. I always thought that I didn’t have hopes and dreams but seeing that place inside of myself for the first time, realizing it was there, I knew I had been lying to myself for the longest time.

  It made me wonder, what else had I been lying to myself about?

  I don’t know how long I would have stood there for if I hadn’t caught movement at the edge of the tree line. A dark, hooded figure moved, entering the forest. Another hooded figure followed.

  Those now hidden figures were bigger than the average human being and they had moved in a way that was eerily similar. What were the Salt and Pepper twins doing out here, skulking through the shadows in the middle of the night?

  Another figure disappeared into the forest, this one still tall but thinner than the first two. I was betting on Tyson.

  If they were going to be traipsing through the forest they should at least do it on their own property and not on Mr. Cole’s. Not that it would be his property for much longer.

  I waited a heartbeat, then two more. When nothing moved I figured it was safe. I turned and shut the front door as quietly as I could, the only sound it made was a soft click when it shut. It was still too loud for me and I flinched at the sound.

  I whipped around and watched the tree line, looking for any sign of movement. There wasn’t any so I hopped off the front steps, landing in the soft grass. I had an urge to curl my toes into it but I didn’t have the time to waste. Who knew how deep into the woods they’d already gotten. And, they likely knew where they were going, I,
on the other hand, had no clue.

  Mr. Cole would be so pissed if he found out I didn’t lock the door or re-arm the alarm. I would have to go back inside and find my keys if I wanted to lock the door. I didn’t have the time for all that.

  I ran across the front lawn, towards the tree line where I’d once seen Quinton spying on me like some kind of creeper. I was thankful not to have shoes on when my feet made next to no noise as I glided across the grass.

  When I made it to the edge of the tree line and stepped on something hard and sharp I mourned the lack of footwear. Suddenly, this didn’t seem like such a wise idea.

  A branch snapped from somewhere in front of me and I fought the urge to scream. Swallowing down my fear, I did the brave thing, the stupid kind of thing and walked close to the trees and their shadowy depths. I looked up and let out a shaky breath. The glow from the moon bled through the trees in places, lighting up the forest floor.

  This isn’t so bad, Ariel Kimber, you can do this.

  Yeah right.

  We’d see about that.

  I put one foot in front of the other and forced myself to walk deeper into the woods. There were footprints in the dirt, boots, big enough to be male. At least I thought they were big enough to be strictly considered male. The thought of a woman with that size feet had me wincing. I followed them. It was a better idea than playing eenie meenie to determine the direction I wandered off in. If I played that game I’d likely get lost, fall into a smelly, weirdly damp pile of leaves and twigs, get tangled up in them and be eaten alive by rabid, foaming at the mouth, beady eyed squirrels. Death by furry little creatures? No thank you.

  I was so busy paying attention to the tracks in the dirt that I wasn’t paying attention to what was in front of my face. A branch came out of nowhere and slapped me across the cheek, catching the corner of my mouth.

  “Son of a bitch,” I swore, tasting blood on my bottom lip. My cheek stung from the impact. I’d likely have a small bruise come tomorrow.

  I’d like to say it deterred me from going any further but sadly it did not. I was being braver than my usual self would and I think part of it had to do with the dream. I didn’t like feeling afraid. The dream, I couldn’t control. Real life, however, I could. There wasn’t anything out here that really would eat me.