Just A Little Wicked: A Limited Edition Collection of Magical Paranormal and Urban Fantasy Tales

Home > Other > Just A Little Wicked: A Limited Edition Collection of Magical Paranormal and Urban Fantasy Tales > Page 49
Just A Little Wicked: A Limited Edition Collection of Magical Paranormal and Urban Fantasy Tales Page 49

by Lily Luchesi


  “Um, okay. That still doesn’t make you a member. How did you get in?” I fold my arms across my chest. His gaze follows every move.

  “That’s a long story for another time. I will say I’m where I’m supposed to be. How about you? Gifted yet? You never texted. My feelings were hurt.”

  His jovial tone lets me know he’s messing around. I take in every inch of the surface of the young man standing in front of me. The sophisticated jacquard blazer fits him perfectly. The design is a dazzling patchwork of tree branches, leaves, and flowers in blue and silver. I could have sworn while dancing the material also had red sparkles. A simple black button up compliments the dark trousers and dress shoes. His hair is styled differently, the side part drapes part of his face when he moves his head.

  Goddess, is he part of your grand plan for me? The strange strangling sound deep in my throat is unnerving.

  “Are you okay?” Alarm flashes across those eyes which have been unable to focus on anything these past few hours that wasn’t me. He reaches towards me and I flinch. My head bumps into a stack of books. “What’s wrong? You weren’t nervous earlier.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat which I’m sure is full of my obvious desire for this stranger. “It’s Yule. Aren’t we always on edge on this night?” The excuse sounded better just before I said it. Afterwards, not so much.

  “Anyway,” he moves right in, leaving hardly any space between us. “I wanted to say you’re absolutely beautiful tonight. It was my honor to spend all that time with you. We just met and I might have insulted you that night, but that wasn’t my intention.”

  The more he talks, the effects of his deep voice washes over me. Something new and unexpected from somewhere inside rises in response. There is something about him. He continues to apologize and explain, but I don’t want to listen. “Quinn?”

  “—I’m not staying for dinner. That would be awkward. I do want to see you…” He’s adorable when he stops midsentence to take in my face. “Did you say my name?”

  “Yes.” I’m already leaning in, my palms flat on the front of his jacket. The material soft and welcoming.

  “Uh, Princess?” His forehead creases when he gives me an incredulous look.

  I can’t disguise my snort. Some guys…. “Quinn, shut up. I want to kiss you.”

  His Adam’s apple bobs. “You do?” Realization dawns across his face. “You do. Me too.”

  Our lips meet halfway.

  Chapter Four

  After an amazing kiss, Quinn left. I sat with my parents and Remy’s family for the midnight meal and then the festivities moved outside. The coven sang songs around a bonfire to thank the Goddess for everything she bestowed. We didn’t get home until the stirrings of morning across the departing night sky.

  Five hours later, Mom awakened me with a carrot cake and my parents wished me a happy and fortunate birthday. They had coffee followed by everyone getting ready to go back to the Meeting House for a seasonal meeting.

  My parents and I are all wearing sweaters, jeans, and boots. A thin layer of ice coats the sidewalks and roads. A group of fire elementals melt what they can. We pass them by on our way. Mom ruffles my hair. “I’m sorry I missed your magical mishaps and triumphs.”

  I grin. “That’s okay. Dad saw enough to never ever let me live it down.”

  He snickers. “Happy your hair is back to its normal color?”

  We cross the street in a flood of other coven members, all on their way to the same place. “Yeah, I am.”

  Soon we go through the main entrance and into the actual meeting room. The space comfortably seats all coven members and has a raised dais in front for the local members. Eleven are already seated. Dad kisses Mom before he continues up the steps and heads straight to the closet hidden behind the curtains. I know what’s back there ever since he gave me a tour of the place when I was a little girl. In minutes, he returns with his black robe on. With a wink at me, he joins the others, shaking hands as he makes his way to his chair.

  Mom and I sit in our assigned seats in the first row. Many acknowledge her presence when we walk by with a slight head bow, wave, or kind word in greeting.

  The first half hour of the meeting is taken up with important matters that keep the development peaceful and running smoothly. One of the members, Kellen, goes over the various memos and tidbits of information. Then Head Leader Raphael takes command of the pulpit.

  “Good day. Happy Midwinter Solstice all. I hope everyone enjoyed themselves last night.”

  Many happy murmurs can be heard. He smiles out at the crowd. A tall man, Raphael Torres carries himself as though he was seven feet tall and not the six foot one that he really is. Dad is an inch taller, though not as wide. Our Head Leader could play football if he wanted to. What he seeks is a role in the Grand Council.

  From pleasantries, Raphael announces the Academy students with the highest grades. He students stand while the rest of us clap in support. When that’s done, he gives a short speech about the next incoming class. Here is where I usually zone out. Not today.

  Head Leader beams while he reads the list and finally, after all this time, my name is called. “Salem Corbett will be our final student entering Waylandale Academy for the spring semester. She will be mentored by her father, Grand Warlock Maddix Corbett.”

  Mom grasps my hand and whispers, “I’m so proud and happy for you, darling.”

  “Thanks.” Amazingly, there’s no swelling of pride inside my chest or the urge to do a happy dance in my seat. Just relief. I can be a normal witch going to the proper school and planning for her future within the coven network.

  A few more matters are discussed, and subjects brought up. None keep my interest. When there’s a stirring in the audience, I withdraw from my thoughts and look around. Is it over?

  Raphael clears his throat. “I apologize. I was just about to close the meeting when a pressing matter was brought to my attention.” He holds up a piece of paper. “The Blackwater Coven has received a Summons of Recognition from an old coven member who wants to take possession of his mother’s home and piece of property. The summoner in question was a child when they left to live with relatives of another coven. I call forth the summoner.”

  Heads turn and bodies bend to catch a glimpse of the newcomer. I’ve never seen this done before. Mom twists her bottom lip, doing that secret communication thing she frequently does with Dad. His face is impassive. This must be news to him too.

  The murmuring increases as the person draws nearer. Since we’re at the opposite end of the aisle, it takes awhile to catch even a glimpse of the approaching person. When I can, my mouth falls open. Literally.

  The person climbs the steps, shakes hands with Raphael who then turns this individual to face all of us. “Blackwater Coven, I introduce mage Quinn Novak, formerly of Silverwoods Coven and fourth year at Broomeville Academy. Son of the late Catrina Novak, we welcome you home, son.”

  Mom grips the sides of her seat so hard her skin blanches. By her stiff body language, she seems about ready to launch off the chair. Does she know him? I glance at Dad. He’s squinting like he did the other night and making a face as if he’s eaten something that doesn’t agree with him.

  Dad gets to his feet. “Head Leader Raphael, I have a question for the young man.”

  I slide forward, curious about the goings on. Instead of acting timid around a room full of strangers, Quinn seems comfortable. From the way his shoulders are held at attention, I suspect he might even be enjoying this. There’s an echo of our kiss still on my lips. One thing is true: Quinn knows all about lip locking.

  Raphael turns around, part of his robes swings out, reminding me of all the dancing done last night. “Maddix, do you need to address the young Novak?”

  How come Quinn didn’t mention his intentions then?

  The room has grown extremely quiet. All eyes and attention focused on the dais. When I look around, some of the girls my age and younger are smiling. I quickly return my
focus up front. That’s not fair. I just met the guy, kissed him, and already I have to give him up?

  Dad approaches them. Quinn’s hands rest behind his back. He bows lightly in recognition of my father. “Quinn, can you please state to the coven who your father is?”

  Mom crosses her legs. Within seconds, she repeats the action. What does she have to be nervous about? As if sensing my watching her, she glances over at me. Her hazel eyes are rimmed with tears. “I’m so, so sorry honey.” Her whisper hoarse. “We should have told you years ago.” Stray tears drop and she wipes them in a flash, focusing back at Quinn and Dad.

  “Sure. My father is Erich Dryden. But I use my mother’s maiden name.”

  All at once there’s pandemonium. Coven members are excitedly chatting amongst themselves. Girl begin fanning themselves. Raphael grins like the Cheshire cat. Dad swipes at his face and immediately looks at Mom. She gives him a half-hearted shrug, fighting to keep herself composed.

  Dryden? What’s the big deal about that name?

  Raphael finally takes note of my father’s concern and nods. He whispers something to him. Dad takes a deep breath and walks back to his chair. The other members twist and move, about to pester him with questions but Dad waves them away.

  My parents are acting off.

  “All right, everyone, settle down. Silence please! We’re almost done and then everyone can return to their homes and rest after last night. We will be hosting more Midwinter celebrations throughout the week. That information is posted on the boards by the entrance.”

  Quinn has been staring straight ahead all throughout the Head Leader’s speech. Now he looks in my direction until his eyes contact mine. For a few seconds he pours some of what I felt being with him last night into his gaze. I might have removed the bracelet and stored it in my desk drawer, but what awoke last night surfaces. We share an intense connection.

  After clearing his throat, Raphael continues. “Today marks a historical day for the Blackwater Coven. We have not only one Noble family now, but two. Let us warmly welcome our newest member back, Quinn Novak Dryden. Until now it hasn’t been a known fact, but the Corbett and Dryden families will soon be able to join into one Supreme family with the announcement that Salem Corbett has been promised to Quinn Dryden since birth. When Salem reaches her eighteenth birthday next year, our coven will celebrate their official engagement.”

  Too many things happen all at once. Mom’s shoulders quake. Dad jumps off the dais to pull her away backstage. Raphael calls over someone to escort me to him, probably for pictures, but I’m no longer in the first row. The second the majority of our members jump to their feet, I snap to mine. Throwing my jacket hood over my head, I quickly maneuver around the talking heads with their fingers pointing towards the dais. At Quinn.

  I’ve always been invisible. Why should that change now? Even though it’s my life that was bargained away.

  As soon as I reach the nearest side exit, I shove the door open and flee.

  Down the first deserted section of walkway I run, then try to take a shortcut by cutting over a patch of grass. When my soles slip on the slick surface, I’m able to right myself. My legs return to the safety of the cement steps where I take two at a time. Whatever gets me farther away the soonest. I don’t hear anyone following me. No one calls out my name. I would like to believe I got out before the masses did.

  All I want is to be alone. To get away from my parents who couldn’t tell me all of these years that they’d made a commitment to another family to hand over their only daughter to their son.

  I reach the end of the stairs and catch my breath a moment. Holding onto the railing, I realize that it’s sleeting. A mix of wet snow and rain and dropping temperatures.

  “Em!” Remy yells for me from a distance. My heart breaks a little. Remy would have been safe. Quiet. Normal. The moment I see him I know I’ll lose it.

  I shake my head. Lungs refreshed, I push off the railing I’d been leaning on and race down the sidewalk. Humans sometimes use our main road to cut some time off their trips to the business district. There are at least half a dozen vehicles headed in both directions. Remaining on this side, I continue to run until the road clears.

  Quinn is the son of Dad’s childhood friend. The friend who’s family runs the largest warlock-owned corporation. Salem Corbett-Dryden.

  What about what I want? My life. Should be my decision.

  The road opens. No cars coming or going. I twist slightly and step down onto the asphalt. My boots can handle the surface. As my feet pound across one lane I pass over the double yellow lines and that’s when I hit trouble. An icy patch. Without warning, my boots and legs flip out from under me. There’s no time to correct myself. I slam down onto the road butt first, followed by my head whacking the ground. Stars burst before my eyes. Not the pretty ones from my bracelet, these are smaller and dull and are accompanied with pain.

  Then I remember where I am. When I try to move, to stand again, my feet continue to slip.

  A horn sounds. Once. Twice.

  Someone shrieks my name. Or is that me?

  I twist in the direction of the sound. Something big and white heads straight for me.

  The beeping turns continuous. Someone behind the wheel starts to wave back and forth, their mouth moving.

  I do the only thing I can. I scream and flex my hands outwards.

  Chapter Five

  All I remember are screams, shouts, the shrill cry of brakes, and the wish not to get hit.

  I blink. There’s an SUV on its side farther down the road, the engine smoking. Not too far away from that vehicle is another. A second car, something compact and blue, leans to the right of the opposite lane. Half of the vehicle is coated in ice. I blink again. Such a terrible buzzing fills my head. When I press the back of my scalp to try and stop the noise, my fingers come away wet. And red.

  Bile rushes up my throat. I can’t vomit in the middle of the road. Or maybe I can. I drop to my knees, exhausted and unable to support my weight. Because of my damp clothes, my teeth begin to chatter.

  Strong arms slide under my arms and gently drag me back to the sidewalk. The movement worsens everything. When they stop, I lean sideways and hurl. My head is going to explode but my stomach feels better.

  “I got you. The coven’s in full emergency service mode.” Someone holds me. He wipes spittle from my chin with a soft material. “Where does it hurt, Princess?”

  Huh? I point to my head. My eyes are heavy. “I wanna sleep,” I mumble.

  He continues to clean my face with a cloth. “No, Salem, you must stay awake.”

  “Em, you okay?” Remy approaches taking us in, our position and probably how I appear comfortable around the new guy.

  “Did you do that or Sexy Charger Guy?” I ask Remy, pointing to the wrecks. That person deserves a huge hug.

  Quinn strangles a laugh or has developed a bad cough.

  “Me?” Remy snickers. “Not me, Em. But you won’t believe who did.”

  The area fills with coven members. So much activity goes on around us. “Sleep now?”

  “No, Salem. Stay with me. With us. Please.” The nice guy doesn’t sound nice anymore.

  “Listen to Quinn, Em.” My best friend looks past me and does that secret communication thing my parents do. “Here.” He hands over his scarf to this Quinn person.

  “Salem, honey!” Mom’s here, kneeling beside me. So is Dad.

  “They’ve sent an ambulance. Should be here soon.”

  I allow my eyes to close. As soon as the lids shut, some of the buzzing stops.

  * * *

  Quinn

  There are three coven teams at work. One is freeing the car of ice. An elderly Council member is using a mind change spell on the driver.

  Another team puts out the small engine fire of the SUV. The three passengers and driver sit on the sidewalk, all enthralled by Salem’s mother. As she weaves her memory mixer enchantment, her eyes emit this cool earthy glow. Her mom is a
looker. I see where my Princess gets her beauty from.

  When Salem asks about the exact moment that I fell in love with her, I’m going to tell her the first time I saw her from my car window and beheld her gorgeous ice blue eyes. They took my breath away.

  A special coven ambulance van pulls up behind us. Mr. Corbett takes charge. I immediately release her to him. She’s out of it.

  Remy seems on the verge of tears. They must be really good friends. I approach him. “Hey, can you find out where they’re taking her and let me know?” So intent on watching what they do to Salem on the gurney, he didn’t hear or see me come up to him.

  “Uh, s-sure.” He takes his phone out of his pants pocket and almost drops it. I grasp it, put my info in, and hand it back. Not once does he look away from her. Good friends, huh? Or is he something else?

  “Thanks.”

  As soon as his wife hurries over, Mr. Corbett ushers her into the back with Salem. Before the driver slams the door, her father waves to me. I jog over.

  Mr. Corbett grabs my shoulder. “Can I trust you to take care of this for us? With Raphael, I mean?”

  I swallow hard. He’s known or suspected about his daughter. “You have my word, sir.”

  He rubs his forehead. “Thank you.” After he climbs in, the door gets shut.

  I return to where I held her. Within minutes tow trucks remove both vehicles. Their owners and passengers ride with the drivers.

  Raphael begins to tell his members to disband. “Anyone who is not directly associated with emergency services or on clean-up detail is ordered to go home!” He jogs up and down the street, repeating the same message. Most listen and walk on. All except a small group.

  Most are older people.

  “What’s wrong, Thomas?” Their leader asks. Raphael seems bewildered at their behavior.

  I am not. I have an idea why they remain behind.

  One man stands defiant. That must be Thomas. “Who did this? Who mixes magic like that?” his voice shakes.

 

‹ Prev