Prim and Proper Fate (Twisted Fate Series Book 2)

by Tami Lund

  But for once, he wondered if he wasn’t going about this all wrong. Brandon had never had difficulty attracting women. Probably because the type of women he attracted were the type he’d expect to attract when spouting off swear words in every sentence and not being nice to them when he did attract them. He’d never really had an issue with that because he’d never really had a concern or desire for the relationship to be anything more than a short-term good time between the sheets. Or in the backseat of the car in the parking lot after the bar closed for the night.

  But Prim was different. Fates, was she ever different. She was not his typical type, not by a long shot. Besides the obvious, she was a Fate, she was also a self-proclaimed high-maintenance woman and she had an attitude a mile wide. She was a five-star lady, and he was used to the greasy local diner. He wasn’t even sure he knew how to treat her right.

  And he was even more perplexed by the idea that he actually wanted to learn how to treat her the way she deserved.

  They stopped at the grocery store on the way back from Gavin’s apartment and bought enough food to get through the next few days. Since they knew Gavin was so close, they fully expected to find him quickly. If they didn’t find him, he would most certainly find them. Gavin was a smart shifter. It wouldn’t take him long to figure out the Chala was right in his backyard.

  William made dinner, a simple meal of pork chops, salad, and a side of pasta. No one ate much, not even Brandon. There was too much going on, too much to think about, to worry about. After the kitchen was clean, William excused himself and went back to his bedroom, and shortly thereafter, Sydney wandered back to the guest room and closed the door. Brandon found himself sitting with Prim on the couch, which also happened to be his bed for the next few days. He tried not to think about the fact that she was sitting on his bed, but he couldn’t help it. He felt like a teenager having a girl over for the first time.

  “You seem nervous,” Prim commented as she studied his features. She held a glass of white wine, her fingers daintily grasping the rim, while she gently swirled the golden liquid. She still wore the flouncy skirt and tuxedo halter-top, but she’d ditched the sexy heels at the front door.

  Brandon leaned back against the couch and draped his arm across the back. “Do I?”

  Prim nodded. “Are you worried?”

  “About Gavin?”

  She nodded.

  “No.”

  She studied him silently for a few moments.

  “How nicely do I have to ask for another backrub?”

  “Probably just saying the word ‘please’ would work.”

  “Please,” he said immediately.

  Prim laughed and then placed her wineglass on the coffee table.

  “Why don’t you lie down on the rug here? It would be easiest.”

  It would be uncomfortable as hell with his hard on pressing into the floor, but he wasn’t about to complain. Not if Prim was in this good a mood. He quickly took off his shirt and lay down on the rug. Prim walked over, placed her feet on either side of his hips, and then lowered herself to a seated position. Brandon closed his eyes and bit his lip to keep from groaning. Not surprisingly, his dick instantly hardened. He shifted his hips and felt Prim’s hands go to his waist, presumably to still him. He let that groan escape.

  “I haven’t even started yet,” she commented.

  “I know. Sorry. I’m a bastard, but the fact that you are sitting on my ass creates instant fantasies in my head.”

  “That makes you a bastard?”

  “Yes. Please don’t stop. I swear, I’ll keep it under control.”

  Her hands shifted to his lower back and kneaded. He groaned again and closed his eyes and let her do her magic. The next thing he realized, he felt a weight lifting from his legs and blinked his eyes open. He half turned his head and saw Prim standing next to the coffee table.

  “I fell asleep.”

  “I noticed.”

  He pushed himself to his feet and stretched. “It feels great. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  They stood facing each other. He was pretty sure she felt as awkward as he did. “I don’t suppose . . .”

  “What?” she asked sharply. He could swear he could hear irritation in her voice. She knew he was about to proposition her. Again.

  “Nothing.”

  “Brandon?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I would sleep with you in a heartbeat.”

  “Yeah?” Hopefulness infused his voice.

  “If you learn how to ask appropriately.”

  Brandon stared at her. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me how to ask?”

  She shook her head.

  “Shit.”

  She didn’t toss a spell at him this time. She simply smiled, bid him goodnight, and then went to bed.

  Brandon was the first one awake the next morning. When Prim wandered into the kitchen, she found him leaning against the counter, drinking coffee from a ceramic mug declaring, “Don’t Talk To Me Till The Second Cup.” She couldn’t help but smile. It was undoubtedly Sydney or William’s mug, but it was so fitting for Brandon, and she had no doubt he hadn’t put any thought into the choice whatsoever.

  “The water’s hot. For your tea,” he said.

  Prim glanced at the stove and saw the teakettle sitting on a burner with steam sifting out of the spout. Another ceramic mug sat on the counter, a box of tea bags and a small container of honey next to it.

  “Thank you,” she said as she stepped up to the counter and began to make her tea. “I don’t recall pointing out that I’m a tea drinker.”

  Brandon shrugged. “Everywhere we’ve stopped since we left your island, you order hot tea. And I saw you put it in the cart at the grocery store last night. Pretty obvious.”

  Prim didn’t think it was obvious at all. She found it flattering that he’d even noticed. She sipped her tea and watched him over the rim of the cup.

  “Do we have a plan for today?”

  “We do,” Brandon replied as he drained his mug and refilled it again. “Is Sydney still asleep?”

  “Yes. I believe William is as well.”

  “Good. Drink up. You and I are going to go downtown by ourselves this morning. With any luck, we’ll find Gavin alone and asleep. You can blast him with your curse and we’ll load him into the car and bring him back home to Sydney.”

  “Sydney will be angry that we went without her.”

  “That’ll last until Gavin drags her back to the bedroom for a little reunion sex. Next time we see her, she’ll have a shit eat, uh, happy grin on her face.”

  Prim bit her lip to keep from smiling. It was so endearing, the way he was trying not to offend her. She refilled her teacup.

  “Okay. Just let me go put my face on and get dressed. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

  Brandon gave her a dumbfounded look. “Put your face on? You are dressed.” He waved at the black column dress that buttoned all the way up the front.

  Prim glanced down at her dress and frowned. “I just threw this on because . . .” She blushed, and he simply stood there, waiting. “Well, I didn’t want to walk out here in my nightie.”

  “Fair enough. So let’s go.” He pushed away from the counter.

  “Wait. I still have to get ready.”

  “Get ready for what? We’re getting into the car, driving downtown. You’re going to use your magic mojo to open his apartment and we’re going to see if we can catch him unawares. You said you’ve been practicing the curse since we left the island. You don’t own a pair of pants, so I assume you don’t mean you need to change clothes. So come on.”

  Prim felt like a deer caught in a car’s headlights. “I’m not wearing any makeup,” she said, as if announcing th
e president had just pushed the red button.

  “You’re not?” Brandon squinted at her.

  “I’m not sure if I should be offended that you can’t tell the difference or flattered,” Prim mused.

  “I can tell the difference. But you’re beautiful either way. Without makeup, every guy in your vicinity will just stare at your legs or your breasts. Or your ass. Definitely your ass. Don’t zap me. With makeup, they notice your eyes and lips, too.”

  Prim stared at him. “That’s ridiculous.”

  Brandon looked confused. “What is?”

  “Men don’t stare at me. Any part of me.”

  His confused look morphed into one of disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me? Men walk into walls when you pass by. Literally.”

  She shook her head, refusing to believe him.

  “Are you telling me you, the most beautiful woman to ever walk the earth, you have low self-esteem?”

  “You are being ridiculous,” she said again.

  “Holy fuck, it’s true.”

  “Language,” she reprimanded.

  Brandon laughed. “This is too rich. Hang on. I need to enjoy this for a minute. I can’t believe you don’t realize it. Honey, you are sex on legs. And the only person in the world who doesn’t realize it is you.”

  “I–I don’t even know what to say,” Prim said, flustered.

  Brandon stepped closer, crowding her. He leaned in, his lips brushing the sensitive shell of her ear. She wanted him to nibble there. She wondered if he would kiss her. She hoped . . .

  “Say, thank you, Brandon, for the compliment. And then come with me, right now, before Sydney and William wake up. Let’s get this over with.”

  “O-okay,” Prim said, and then for the first time in as long as she could remember, she left the house without putting on makeup.

  They drove downtown, making quick time because it was early morning on a weekend. They tuned in to a news radio station, but there were no stories about murders in downtown Detroit last night.

  “That just means they haven’t discovered the bodies yet,” Brandon said grimly.

  They parked in the same parking garage as the night before. Brandon grabbed Prim’s arm as she was about to climb out of the car. “Are you ready?” he asked. He looked deadly serious.

  Prim blew out a breath. “As I’ll ever be. I wish I could have practiced the curse on a living being, but it’s too dangerous.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Her lips formed a thin line as she unwillingly recalled the first time she’d ever enacted the curse that had turned Gavin into what he was when he and Sydney had first met. “The first Rakshasa I cursed went crazy. And then he blew himself up.” After that incident, she had vowed never to use the curse again. But Gavin had pushed her too far when he had toyed with her all those years ago before killing her Chala. Ironic that she was now trying to curse him again so he could live happily with a Chala.

  “That’s not so bad. Maybe we should just start slamming every Rakshasa we see with this curse.”

  “He was in an apartment building, which was occupied at the time with approximately thirty humans of various ages, ranging from infants to the elderly. The human authorities claimed it was a gas leak and someone lit up a cigarette and tossed a match in the wrong place.” Her voice cracked. Even after all these years, it still hurt to think about it. She’d killed all those humans, the very beings she was supposed to protect.

  She felt the all-too-common sensation of drowning. Her vision blurred around the edges, her breathing became erratic. She fought the episode, even as she knew it was pointless. All she could do was hope this one did not send her permanently into oblivion.

  “Aw, hell,” Brandon muttered, reaching across the seat and pulling her into his arms. The drowning sensation eased. Her vision cleared. Her breathing gradually returned to normal. Somehow, this time, the episode had been pushed away. It hadn’t consumed her. She’d won. She was certain it was a temporary victory, but it was a victory nonetheless. She clung to Brandon’s shirt, not wanting to let him go, knowing he was somehow connected to her ability to stave off the darkness, the nightmares.

  After a few moments of silence, he backed away slightly and placed two fingers under her chin, lifting her face so she had to look him in the eye. “You okay?” He used his thumb to swipe at a tear she hadn’t even realized was there.

  She cleared her throat and nodded. “I–I think so. Thank you.”

  “Hey, this is a mutually beneficial relationship,” he said, trying to be cheeky, she knew, to ease the tension in the air. “You make my back feel better so I can actually function, I keep your episodes at bay.”

  “So I can function,” she finished for him, even as she wondered how he knew about the episodes. William must have told him. Either Brandon didn’t understand the significance of them, or he had a hell of a lot more faith in her than he probably ought to. She hoped she was able to live up to his expectations. Knowing he believed his entire species was counting on it was a tad daunting.

  He let her go when she pressed against his arm so she could slide across the seat to the passenger side door. In an instant, he was there, opening the door and offering his hand to help her climb out. She placed her hand into his and allowed him to be as courteous as a man of a bygone era, back when she’d been human, and in love. She had forgotten until now that he had been blond, too.

  “Thank you.”

  He grinned, breaking the awkward tension that had fallen. “I’ve heard high-maintenance women like this sort of thing.”

  Prim laughed, despite the circumstances. “Why yes, actually. We do.”

  He kept hold of her hand. “Let’s do this.”

  She nodded, and they headed toward the converted warehouse.

  There was activity on the first floor. A handful of artists whose creative juices flowed best in the morning were busy at their trade. The sound of a kiln running could be heard over the background drone of the HVAC system. The scent of strong coffee and sweet pastries was heavy in the air. Fat Tuesday had recently come and gone, which in Detroit meant the dessert of choice was the paczki, a rich, cream-filled pastry that residents gorged themselves on for a brief time each year, until the self-induced guilt the Lenten holiday brought caused them to give it up again for the next eleven months.

  They walked through the artists’ studio without acknowledging anyone. Prim once again used her magic in place of a key card to encourage the elevator to take them to the top floor. When the door opened, Brandon automatically stepped in front of her.

  “You do know I’m the one who can’t die, right?” she asked after he determined it was safe enough for her to exit the elevator.

  “Doesn’t mean I want to find out what happens when your body is destroyed. What if you end up in a different body when you come back? I mean, you’re so used to all the attention this one generates.”

  She smirked. “Smart-aleck. And for your information, we return in the exact same body.”

  “Has it ever happened to you?”

  She nodded. “A few times, when I was trying to protect my Chala. I can assure you, it isn’t a pleasant experience.”

  “I suddenly have this overwhelming urge to apologize to you. I’ve hated you and your kind for so long, and I was obviously wrong to do so.”

  “Please don’t turn me into a martyr.”

  “I’m not. I’m just . . . I don’t know. Humbled, maybe? I was so wrong about Fates. About you. And . . . I guess I’m sorry.”

  She arched her brows. This emotional apology didn’t feel right coming from Brandon, and she felt incredibly awkward accepting it. She would rather their relationship return to the gentle teasing, comfortable friendship it had become over the last twenty-four hours. Well, if she were perfectly honest with her
self, she wanted far more than friendship from the man, but this was neither the time nor the place—nor did that even make sense, between a Fate and a Light One. That wasn’t the way of their world. “Are you done now?”

  “I guess.”

  “Good. Now come on. Let’s do this.” She walked resolutely toward Gavin’s apartment. At the door, she paused and placed her palm on the wood.

  “I don’t think he’s alone.”

  “Fuck.”

  Prim gave him a disapproving look.

  “Sorry,” he whispered. “A woman?”

  Prim rolled her eyes. “I can’t detect the sex of beings. What I mean is, he isn’t the only shifter in there.”

  “Oh. Okay. I was worried . . .”

  “That’s the real reason you didn’t want Sydney to come, isn’t it? You didn’t want her to see him in a compromising position.”

  “What he does when he isn’t cursed shouldn’t be held against him,” Brandon said firmly. “He can’t help it.”

  “I bet a lot of men wish they could use that line. So now what’s the plan?”

  “Any idea how many?”

  Prim shook her head. “No. Only that the feeling of evil is far too great for just one person.”

  “This is Gavin we’re talking about. It could be just him.”

  She shook her head again. “I made it my life’s mission to learn everything about him. This is definitely more than just him.”

  “Okay. I believe you. Four or five I can probably handle on my own. Any more than that and I start worrying about my life expectancy. Let’s go in.”

  “What if there’s more?”

  “I don’t hear any sounds, do you? Probably, they’re all asleep. We can slip in without waking anyone, curse Gavin, and then slip out again. It’s worth a shot.”

  “I should do this by myself. Regenerating isn’t fun, but at least I can. Your death is a great deal more permanent.”