Twelve Shades of Midnight:

by Liliana Hart

  “Unconventional? That’s very PC of you and much too kind.”

  Daphne patted her hand. “But I mean it. I think you should think about staying, Winnie. I’d vote you in, and I’m on the school board.”

  Stay here? In Paris? With Ben firmly rooted here? Um, no.

  Yet, when she thought of leaving the kids, even after just two short weeks of being here, an empty hole bloomed in her chest.

  “I doubt BIC is going to want me to stick around, and let’s not forget about how unorthodox my teaching methods are. I’m not exactly winning points with Wyatt Jackson’s father, that’s for sure.”

  Daphne’s eyes narrowed. “Wyatt Jackson’s father is a grade-A douchecanoe. Can’t say why I don’t like him, but I don’t. In fact, if I remember correctly, Moira didn’t like him either. She said she couldn’t put her finger on why she didn’t like him, either. She just didn’t.”

  “He called in to complain about me last week when Wyatt came home and told him I’d taken his wand. Said I’d stolen his wand and when he got back from Rome, he was going to pay me a little visit.”

  “Screw Randolph Jackson. His kid had no business with that wand, and if he gives you hell, I’ll go to the board personally. Don’t you worry. I got your back, Miss Winnie.”

  “Even in my heinous pantsuit?” she joked, relieved to have found an ally of sorts.

  Daphne’s laughter tinkled in her beautiful kitchen. “It’s just so orange,” she said with a mock shudder. “Speaking of pantsuits. I have two huge bags of clothes for you. I’ve decided my soon-to-be-ex owes me an all new I’m-almost-single wardrobe, and if I have to see you in one more ripped sweatshirt, I’ll just scream And listen, Wyatt’s father aside, you ought to consider staying, Winnie. I genuinely hope you will.”

  Her eyes fell to the counter at the warmth in Daphne’s tone. At her generosity. In her promise to herself, she’d come to the conclusion that for now, she hadn’t earned the kind of warmth Daphne offered, but she wanted to. Yet, it was still uncomfortable.

  “Thanks, Daphne, but I think we should wait and see what Baba Yaga says before we assign me my own cubby.”

  Her eyes twinkled. “Good enough. Now, whaddaya say we dig those ruffians out of the pool and carve some pumpkins?”

  “Winnie!” a desperate cry called her name.

  Her eyes popped instantly, trying to adjust to the velvety black night filling her bedroom. Rain pelted the windows and lightning streaked the sky.

  “Winnie!”

  She sat up, looking to the rocking chair. “Icabod?”

  “What?”

  “Was that you?”

  “Me what?”

  “Calling my name.”

  “I’ve been as quiet as a church mouse. I always am. God knows I don’t want you to miss out on a second of your beauty sleep.”

  “Winnie!” The cry was hoarse, tearful—a child’s cry.

  “Pooh Bear, what’s up?”

  “Wiiinnnniiiiie!”

  She threw the covers off, yanking the oversized muumuu from around her legs to untangle herself and looked around. A boom, deep and shuddering, rang through the house.

  She ran to Icabod and knelt down, cocking her head. “Don’t you hear that?”

  “Hear what? Oh Jesus. Are you one of those witches who hears voices, too? I’ve put up with a lot of your kooky, but that’s too far for even me to—”

  “Winnie! Help!”

  Lola. It was Lola, sobbing her name. “Don’t you hear her? It’s Lola!” She didn’t bother to wait for an answer. Fying across the room, she threw the door open and headed to Lola’s bedroom.

  “Winnie, please help me!” Lola sobbed, her voice more muffled now.

  Racing down the hallway, she used the nightlight to guide her to Lola’s cracked door. Pushing it open, she located Lola’s pink-and-yellow bed—empty.

  Panic clutched her heart so hard, she almost couldn’t breathe from it.

  “Winnie!”

  The rain pounded harder, slashing against the windows until she thought surely they’d break. “Lola!” she screamed above the crash of thunder. “Where are you?”

  Rushing out of the bedroom, she tried to flip the lights on in the hall but the power was out. “Lola!”

  Ben appeared out of nowhere, his eyes riddled with sleep, his thick hair mussed. He stood in the hallway in only his pajama bottoms. “What the hell’s going on?”

  “It’s Lola! She’s not in her bed. Didn’t you hear her calling for me?” She flew past him, pounding down the stairs as more thunder rumbled, shaking the entire house.

  “Winnie!”

  “Where are you, Lola?” she screamed frantically, trying to pinpoint the location of her cries.

  “Up here! I don’t know how to get down—please help me!”

  Okay, think, Winnie, think. Lola’s voice sounded garbled, almost wet.

  Wet.

  Jesus, no. The roof?

  Pulse pounding, heart crashing against her ribs, she threw open the front door and ran out into the driving rain. “Lola!” she bellowed over the wind, the rain piercing her skin in hard pricks of water.

  “Up here!”

  Frantically, she sought a way to the roof. The trellis in the garden. She could use that to climb to the first peak. Sloshing through the puddles, her muumuu clinging to her, she hiked up the ends of it and ran. “Lola! I’m coming! Don’t move, honey!”

  “Winnie!” Ben roared, the splash of his feet crashing behind her.

  But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. Skidding around the side of the house, the flesh of her feet tearing on the pebbled pathway, she launched herself at the trellis, gripping the wet wood until her fingers ached.

  “Winnie!” Lola called again, hoarse, frightened.

  A flash of lightning highlighted a dark head and the edges of a blanket at the very tip of the second peak. “Hold on, Lola! I’m coming—don’t move, munchkin. Just stay put!”

  Hauling herself over the first peak, the roof tiles scraping at her skin, she clawed her way to her feet. “Lola!” she howled into the wind, her eyes scanning the next peak where she knew she’d seen her.

  Now there was nothing but a raging wind and hail, coming at her in small clumps, pelting her face and arms. “Lola! Answer me!”

  She heard Ben call her name, his frantic voice filling her head. “Winnie!”

  The wet world began to sway, her stomach revolting from the motion as she fell to her knees. Winnie clung to the roof, her eyes on the second peak, pulling herself up, panting, dodging the hard pummeling of the hail. “Lola!”

  She couldn’t see. She needed to get closer. Fighting another wave of nausea, she rose to her shaky legs, hunkered down against the harsh wind and plowed forward.

  “Winniiieeee! I’m over here!”

  The voice kept moving, changing, as fear and adrenaline raced through Winnie’s limbs. And then she saw her, huddled against the chimney on the third peak of the house, shaking, crying, flashes of lightning silhouetting her sheer terror.

  Winnie didn’t think twice—she launched herself upward using her torn feet to push off, hurling herself toward Lola, crawling along the small space, sputtering and coughing. “Don’t move, honey!” she yelled, cupping her hands over her mouth before she found the strength from some unknown place to rise to her feet, so close to the edge she was afraid she was going to fall.

  And that’s when it happened. She slipped and fell.

  It was as though a hand pushed at her shaking, tired legs and tipped her right over the side of the house.

  Winnie didn’t have time to react. She didn’t even consider using her magic. She dropped to the ground like a rock.

  Then everything went black.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Winnie! Please wake up. Please don’t be deaded,” a soft voice whispered in her ear.

  She groaned, her head throbbing. “That’s dead, honey. You can’t get deaded.”

  Soft hair brushed her chin, wet tea
rs dripped on her chest. “You made me so sad, but I didn’t get mad at you. I helped Uncle Ben bring you inside.”

  Winnie couldn’t open her eyes, but her hand found the top of Lola’s head and stroked it. “You’re a good little trooper, Lola-Falola. I’m proud.”

  “Okay, nugget, Miss Winnie needs to rest. Let’s let her do that, and you get back to bed, okay?”

  “I’m afraid,” Lola said, her voice watery and trembling. “What if I leave and she goes away?”

  Winnie gasped for a breath, her ribs on fire, but she tightened her hold on Lola anyway. “No, no, Tinkerbell. Miss Winnie’s much tougher than that. Off to bed with you so you can get your pretty sleeps, and I promise I’ll see you at breakfast in the morning, okay?”

  “Just a couple of more minutes, pleeease, Uncle Ben?”

  That was when everything came rushing back to her. She jolted upward, taking Lola with her, forcing her eyes open even though the light in Ben’s bedroom stung them.

  She ran her hands over Lola’s face, checking every square inch of her, inspecting her fingers. “You’re okay? Oh, thank the goddesses you’re okay!” Winnie hugged Lola to her tight. “What were you doing on the roof, Lola?”

  Lola peered up at her, her thickly fringed eyes wide. “I wasn’t on the roof.”

  Ben stepped in then, giving her a warning glance. “Winnie’s just confuzzled, nugget. She had a hard spill. Now, give her a kiss and it’s off to bed.”

  Winnie nodded with a wince. “I took a good one to my old noggin. So do as Uncle Ben says and put one right here.” She pointed to her cheek.

  Lola dropped a reluctant kiss on it and slid off the bed. “Promise you’ll be here tomorrow? Pinky swear?” She held out her pinky to Winnie.

  And Winnie latched on. Weakly, but she managed. “Would I miss Uncle Ben’s crispy-fried chocolate chip pancakes? Not a chance. Scoot now, miss. See you in the morning.”

  Lola trailed behind Ben, leaving Winnie to ease herself to the edge of the bed before realizing she was naked but for her panties. She reached for the blanket to cover herself, only to feel the hot stab of pain in her ribs intensifying.

  “Don’t move,” Ben ordered from the doorway. His hair was slicked back as if he’d just showered, his T-shirt and jeans were crisp and fresh. Unlike her and her straggly hair and bruised body.

  He handed her one of his T-shirts, helping her pull it over her head and tucking it around her thighs before slipping an arm under her. “Use my arm to brace yourself when you lie back against the pillows,” he encouraged.

  She winced as he levered her backward, clinging to the strength of his arm. “Why was Lola on the roof?”

  He sat at the edge of the bed and looked at her. “She wasn’t. Why were you up on the roof?”

  “What do you mean, she wasn’t? Didn’t you hear her calling me? I saw her on the roof, Ben.” She knew what she’d seen.

  “She was safe and sound in her bedroom, Winnie. I checked just before I tore off after you.”

  Winnie shook her head even though the motion made her grab for Ben’s arm to steady herself. “No. I heard her. I saw her. I know what I saw.”

  Ben’s eyes were warm when he brushed her hair from her cheek. “Maybe you were dreaming? I don’t know. I only know you took a helluva spill. It was like someone pushed you right off. One minute you were up, the next you were on the ground at my feet. You scared the shit out of me, Winnie.”

  The concern in his voice was undeserved. She’d blown up his life. What was a little slip and fall compared to that? “Now that you mention it, it was like someone pushed me off,” she said, her body suddenly so weary, she almost couldn’t hold up her head.

  “Why didn’t you use your magic to get up there, Winnie? If you thought Lola was in danger?”

  Because she hadn’t even thought of it. Because she’d been so beaten down about abusing it, she’d begun to refute it altogether. “Maybe because I wanted to learn? You know, like you said? I’m trying to stick to my guns here.”

  Ben kissed the tip of her nose, making her toes curl, even in her uncomfortable state. “Now you’re going too far left of field, honey. You weren’t conjuring up shoes or seeking revenge. You thought you were trying to save Lola’s life—that’s cause to use your magic.”

  “The point is moot for now. What I really want to know is why I saw Lola on the roof. It wasn’t a dream, Ben. I was wide awake,” she insisted, yet warmed by his words.

  Ben straightened, pulling the covers up to her chin then climbing onto the bed beside her, leaning on his elbow. “You really thought Lola was on the roof?”

  “I really did.” And the hell she was going to let anything happen to her.

  His eyes pierced hers, gazing into them for a long time. “Get some rest, and we’ll talk about it tomorrow. You fell pretty hard. Thankfully you didn’t break anything, but you need to rest.”

  “You’re talking to me like you talk to Lola. Like I’m six and I’m out of my mind.”

  “Well, now, as minds go…” he teased on a laugh.

  She poked him in the shoulder. “I’m not out of my mind. Lola was on that roof. I wasn’t dreaming it. We’re witches, Ben. Bad things happen all the time. Something’s going on, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

  “Fair enough. You can do that tomorrow. For now, you rest right here so I can keep an eye on you,” he demanded, gently easing her down until her head was on his chest.

  And then she remembered. “I was almost naked.”

  His chuckle was thick, the rumble reassuring in her ear. “Tell me about it.”

  “Where’s my muumuu?”

  “In the dryer. I didn’t have a choice but to pull it off. You were soaked and then Lola woke up crying before I had the chance to put more clothes on you.”

  Winnie smiled against his chest. “If that shrinks, I’ll kill you, Yagamawitz. I’ve grown fond of it.”

  “Uncle Ben? Winnie?” Lola called from the doorway, making Winnie try to sit up, but Ben tightened his arm around her.

  “What’s up, honey?” Ben asked.

  “I don’t like the thunderstorm. It’s scary. Can I sleep with you?”

  Winnie didn’t hesitate. She patted the space beside she and Ben. “You bet, sugarlumps.”

  “Easy. Winnie’s very sore,” Ben warned as Lola climbed over them and surprisingly settled herself behind Winnie.

  “I’ll be gentle. Promise.” She curved into Winnie’s back and patted her hip. “I hope you feel better tomorrow, Winnie,” she whispered sleepily.

  Winnie reached behind her, straining her ribs and clutching Lola’s hand. “Sweet dreams, peanut.”

  Her eyes grew heavy with Ben’s arm around her. And Lola’s breathing, turning even and slow, and her warmth against her back, touched Winnie somewhere deeper than she’d ever been touched.

  As she drifted off, she thought about how close to Heaven this was.

  Ben and Lola. Nearby. Safe.

  She woke slowly, disoriented for a moment before she remembered what happened last night. Prying her eyes open, the first thing she saw was Ben, watching her.

  “You’re being creepy,” she teased, still achy from her fall when she tried to stretch.

  He grinned—easy, light. “You drool when you sleep.”

  “You snore.”

  “I do not.” He mocked his affront at her accusation with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

  “Do so. It was like sleeping with a logging team.”

  Trailing a finger along her collarbone, he laughed. “You steal all the covers.”

  Her nipples tightened when he traced the outline of her breast beneath the T-shirt. “I had to steal something. You were hogging the entire bed.”

  Ben slid his arm under her waist. “How do you feel this morning, Miss Winnie?”

  She chuckled at the question, wanting to stay in this warm bubble forever. This cocoon of just she and Ben. “Why do you ask?” She fluttered her eyelashes at him, forgetting the divi
de between them, forgetting everything but his rippled body so close to hers.

  “Because you’re half naked in my bed and even though you’ve been avoiding me like I have a fatal disease this past week, I find you damn hard to resist right now.”

  “Where’s Lola?”

  “She’s immersed in Beauty and the Beast. We have like thirty minutes.”

  Winnie was appalled. “But what if she catches us?”

  “She won’t. I know the score. Brad joked all the time about how they found ways around having a toddler. Beauty and the Beast is the ticket. Trust.”

  She relaxed into him then stiffened. “Did you lock the door?”

  “Like we’re inside Fort Knox,” he murmured against her lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth and making her moan.

  “Then we’d better make this quick,” she whispered before arching against him, breathing in his scent, reveling in his hard body heating her own.

  Ben wasted no time, but his hands were gentle as they roamed over her battered body. “I don’t want to hurt you. You were pretty banged up.”

  Pulling his head to her breast, she let out a breathy sigh as she reached for his steely length, stroking it, encouraging him to make love to her. “You won’t hurt me. Stop talking and do me, Yagamawitz.”

  He chuckled against her skin, whispering his lips over the planes of her belly, kissing the tops of her thighs until he was between them, slipping his tongue inside her wet folds.

  She bit back a cry of pleasure when he circled her clit, stroking it until she bucked against him, wrapping her legs around his neck, luxuriating in the feel of his hair against her skin.

  He moved his mouth over her slow, easy, then picked up speed, licking her until her head thrashed against the pillows and she came in a burst of color and waves of heat.

  Pulling him to her, she welcomed his heavy weight, welcomed the way he sank into her, melting against her. Lifting her hips, Winnie felt the head of his cock at her entrance, whimpered when he drew his hips back and she wrapped her legs around his waist.