Reaping Trouble (The Lynlee Lincoln Series Book 4)

by Olivia Hardin

  But she wasn’t listening, just continuing up, up, up my backbone, and the farther she went, the less I felt I could breathe. Inhaling in gulps, both of my hands flew up to my neck. The moment Rhiannon fastened the last button, she stepped away, and I heard a fantastic pop in my ears. A crackle of electricity skimmed along every vein of the lace on the gown, and my body jerked in reaction as I squealed in alarm.

  “Holy crap…” she murmured

  The room was wobbling before my eyes, and I groped out in front of me for the wall before I fell over. Holy crap is right, I thought, but I couldn’t speak. Could barely draw air into my lungs.

  Since words weren’t an option, I gesticulated with one arm to tell Rhiannon that I needed help. I grabbed at my throat, then waved my hand in a motion meant to convey the message that I couldn’t breathe.

  “Water? You need some water?”

  My eyes widened, and I shook my head, then clutched her arm with my hand and shook her. She still had a confused look on her face, so I pointed to my back, then to her and then to my back again.

  “Oh, the dress. Sorry, yes, let me help,”

  I wished I’d had the strength to wring her neck, but I didn’t have even enough to roll my eyes at her. My desperation and panic were at an all-time high. For her part, Rhia appeared to be all thumbs at that point because it felt like it was taking her forever to work each button loose. But, as she finally got a few of them undone, my lungs were able to expand with air.

  When the gown opened enough that it dropped down to my waist, I took over and yanked it down, scrambling away from it as it pooled to the ground. It didn’t really matter to me that I was standing there in nothing but a green bra and unmatched black and white striped panties. My BFF and I just stared in awe at the crumpled wedding dress, which at that moment looked completely normal and unassuming.

  “So what the hell just happened?” Rhiannon finally asked, gazing up at me with big, black eyes.

  I didn’t answer, just stepped forward and tapped at the dress with my toe. She might be a werevamp, but Rhia squealed and jumped back as if I were poking at giant snake or something. I looked at her with a cross expression.

  My heart was thumping in my chest, and I was afraid to say what I knew was true. Maybe if I didn’t say it, it wouldn’t be. But that was silly, and big problems didn’t need silliness. And this was a huge problem, at least depending.

  Depending on what, you might ask. Depending on how dark it was.

  “It’s a curse.”

  “Are you freakin’ kidding me? That dress is cursed?”

  I closed my eyes and drew my lips to the side in consternation. “Not anymore, it’s not. Now I’m the one who’s cursed.”

  “I think we should ask Granny,” Rhiannon advised later as we were eating burgers. Well, I was eating one burger. Rhia was eating three, plus chili-covered French fries. The joys of having the appetite of a werewolf and the metabolism to go with it.

  “Oh, I don’t think that’s what we want to do,” I said, shaking my head and nibbling on a piece of bun.

  “C’mon. She’ll know what to do. In her day, I’m sure she saw lots of curses.”

  “I’m sure she did at that.”

  I had a reason for my lack of enthusiasm about contacting my great-great-great grandmother. And that reason had everything to do with the fact that she had probably seen many curses. That meant that once again in her eyes, I’d look like the toddler witch who didn’t know what the heck she was doing.

  “You know, just because you get into trouble every now and then doesn’t mean it’s always your fault.”

  I finished swallowing a French fry, then side-eyed her, “That’s right. This time it’s your fault for making me try on that damned dress.”

  She snorted a laugh. “You’re not eating much. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m not sure. My stomach is in knots, but otherwise I think I’m okay.”

  “Maybe it’s just like a minor curse. A teeny, tiny baby curse.”

  “Maybe.”

  “What about Charley’s spellbook? Could there be something in there?”

  I shook my head as I absently brought another fry to my lips. “I’ve read it from front to back. I didn’t find anything about a curse.”

  Rhiannon was still eating like there was no tomorrow, but she was staring at me while stuffing her face. I tried to ignore it, but it was no use. After a few moments, I slapped my hamburger down onto my plate and then pushed myself back from the table. “Fine. We’ll ask Granny. Happy now?”

  She chewed up a huge bite, then shrugged. “I’m always happy.”

  After finishing our meal, Rhiannon and I orbed back to my grotto, which was now located within a cave on Beck’s property. I checked my watch and hoped he and the kids were still at the movies and wouldn’t be expecting me home just yet.

  Outside the magical stone transporter, we walked over to a huge wooden chest that Beck had built for me to hold my witchy items. I carefully removed the magical mirror that would allow me to call my great-great-great grandmother, then closed the lid and placed the object on top of the chest.

  Rhia and I both sat down with our legs crossed on the rock floor before the mirror, then I repeated the words I used to conjure Granny’s spirit to the mirror. In just a few seconds, the reflection glowed red and the beautiful Dorothea Lincoln’s image appeared.

  “Well, if it isn’t my … oh heavens to Murgatroyd, Lynlee. You’ve picked up a curse.”

  Rhiannon cried out with a loud, “Ha!” then elbowed me. “Told you she’d know.”

  “Oh, hello there, wolfie. How are you, my dear?”

  “I’m wonderful. But then I’m not the one with a curse.” She pointed with her thumb in my direction, and I sniffed.

  Dorothea Lincoln gazed at me with a raised eyebrow. I ducked my head and tried not to make eye contact.

  “Tell me.”

  I was saved from responding as Rhiannon spilled out the entire story with dramatic flare. She even stood up so that she could describe in detail the infamous wedding gown. I brought my hand to my mouth and worried at a hangnail while I listened.

  “So that’s it.” She threw her hands up and let them fall down with a smack. “So how’d you know she had a curse?”

  Granny was quiet, and that was so unusual that I couldn’t help but look at her. The frown on her face was so serious that little crinkles developed at the corners of her eyes. I had never once seen so much as a wrinkle on her face in all the time I’d known her—understand that she’d been dead and enjoying a wonderful afterlife all of that time, and her visage was absolute perfection.

  The concern etched on her face was disconcerting. I swallowed as I pulled my back up straight. “So, it’s a curse. I feel fine. It’s probably just nothing.”

  “The problem is, granddaughter, that you’ve picked up someone else’s curse. A curse placed in a wedding gown is an especially personal thing. And unless you wronged someone in another life, it was assuredly not meant for you.”

  “So how can I get rid of it?”

  “That’s the troubling part.”

  Yeah. Trouble. She just had to use that word.

  Dorothea stood and paced a bit. The magic mirror followed her back and forth, always keeping her in focus. She tapped a finger to her lips. “The simplest solution is to find the person who put the curse on the dress. Or most likely the closest living family member to the person who put the curse.”

  “What if they’re all dead?” Rhia asked.

  “Not possible,” I responded, still focused on Granny. “If they were all dead, the curse would have died with them.”

  “So when we find the person, then what?”

  I ignored my friend’s question. “Can you see what kind of curse it is?”

  “It’s a dark cloud, greenish. The waves are rigid and focused on your lower abdomen. Your sacral chakra. It’s an unforgivable curse, and it isn’t easy to create an antidote for those.”

 
I inhaled in a long, slow measure, then nodded. “Thanks, Granny.”

  “And if for any reason the antidote doesn’t work or can’t be formed…”

  She trailed off, but I didn’t need to hear the rest of her words. I knew the one true way to reverse a curse. A curse line could only be terminated when the person who placed the curse and any and all of their blood relatives were dead.

  That evening I reheated the chicken enchilada casserole for Beck and the kids. The truth was, I was afraid to serve it to his family until I’d had Rhiannon try it first. Her accolades made me happy, but as the dish of piping hot chicken and cheese made its way around the table, my nerves began to churn.

  “Rhiannon seemed to think this was okay,” I sputtered, just as Beck was bringing the first bite to his mouth. “If it sucks, just feel free to admit it. We have stuff for salad.”

  He winked at me and proceeded to chew. I waited and watched him, then felt even queasier when Justin and Jilly too began to dig into their plates.

  “Um, wow,” Beck said after swallowing. He set his fork down slowly and then looked at me with wide eyes.

  “It’s okay if you want to spit it out. Rhia’s a were. They have lead stomachs or something.”

  “Geez, Lynlee. Relax. It’s good. Really good.”

  “Yeah, it’s great,” Justin piped in, then gave me a thumbs up before he started shoveling huge forkfuls into his mouth at an ungodly pace.

  Jilly giggled, but the glowing smile on her face said she too was happy with the casserole. I took a huge breath and sat down to join them.

  After they’d taken the edge off their appetites, the kids began talking in rapid spurts, telling me all about the movie they’d seen, how Jilly had gotten so scared she’d crawled on her daddy’s lap and that Justin had spilled his first bag of popcorn.

  By the time we were cleaning off the table, I realized my face felt funny. I brought a hand to my cheeks and wondered if the curse was having some impact. That was when I realized I was smiling. And I’d been laughing and smiling for the better part of an hour.

  My facial muscles clearly didn’t know how to handle such an overabundance of joy, so I puckered my lips to straighten things out. As I started to run hot water into the tap, I worked my jaw left and right until I finally had my normal resting bitch face. Then Beck’s finger poked me in the side and I giggled, once again drawing my lips up into a smile.

  “That’s the kids’ job. You cooked. They can clean.”

  And in the kids came, Jilly whining at her brother. “Stop calling me a baby.”

  “You are one,” he sneered at her. “You missed half the movie because you kept your face tucked in Dad’s arm.”

  I was just opening my mouth to chide them about how brothers and sisters should be nice when Jilly reached out her leg to kick him. That movement jostled the dishes in her hand and sent a half-full cup of tea tumbling into Beck’s direction.

  The cold stream hit him smack dab in the belly and dribbled down the legs of his pants. “Damn it, Jilly!” he cried, snatching the remaining plates from her hands and tossing them into the sink.

  Both kids’ sets of eyes were wide in alarm, and Jilly looked on the verge of tears. I slowly turned, shook out my wand and pointed it at Beck’s cold, wet jeans. My magic instantly dried them and warmed them just a tad. He looked at me, and I narrowed my eyes in warning that he should calm down. After staring for what I deemed to be a sufficient time, I grabbed some paper towels and mopped up the floor.

  As I tossed the wet towels into the trash, I gave both Jilly’s and Justin’s shoulders little pats of assurance as I turned to their dad. “Let’s go sit down and let the kids finish up.”

  He nodded and followed me into the living room where he plopped down on the sofa and groaned.

  “What’s the matter, old man? The little ones wear you out today?” As I said the words I came in behind him and began rolling my thumbs into the tight muscles on his back.

  “Oooh, now that feels good,” he mumbled and leaned forward so that I could massage deeper. “I don’t think it’s the kids. I think it’s this damn assignment. My back’s been killing me.”

  “Why didn’t you say something? I might be able to do something to help. Or Rhia probably has some natural remedy.”

  “Eh, I don’t want to be a whiner.”

  I shook my head at the eternal stubbornness of men. I needed to tell him about the curse, but I wasn’t quite sure how to start the conversation, especially considering how moody he was feeling at the moment. Hey, I tried on a wedding dress ‘cause I think I might want us to get hitched sometime, and guess what, I picked up a curse.

  Yeah, it just didn’t seem to sound right.

  “Plus I’m tense. I got a call from the contracting super while we were at the movies. I haven’t even listened to the message because I have this bad feeling he’s going to want me down there again this week.”

  “This week? You just got back.” There was the slightest pitch to my voice. I kneaded his shoulders a little harder and his grunt somehow gave me a tiny bit of perverse pleasure.

  “Easy, there.”

  “Sorry.” I gritted my teeth.

  “Nothing is going the way it’s supposed to. Even when I’m away from the job, I’m constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. Last week the subs mishandled a huge stained glass window. It took the maker six weeks to create the damned thing and now it’s in the trash heap, virtually worthless.”

  “Why is that your fault? You weren’t even there.”

  “That’s why it’s my fault. They wanted me on site for the entire first phase. I assured him my team could get things done without my standing over their shoulders, but it’s like we’re cursed or something.”

  I was in the process of taking a breath and swallowed my own spittle when he said the word “curse.” Before I knew it I was coughing like crazy, and he was slapping me on the back.

  A few hours later, we were surprised when the kids both went to bed early. It could have been their exciting day out with Dad. Or maybe my excellent chicken enchilada casserole had done the trick.

  Insert mental fist bump.

  After taking my shower, I hopped under the blankets and waited for my man to join me. I’m not embarrassed to admit I engaged in all sort of naughty fantasies. I could hear the water running in the bathroom, and I imagined the hot stream running along Beck’s body. For a moment, I considered stripping back out of my pajamas and joining him, but before I could even finish the thought, I heard him switch off the faucet.

  I scrunched my body down further into the covers and put my hands on my stomach with a long deep breath. The bathroom door opened, and my eyes flicked up. He was standing there, shoulder leaning against the frame. I couldn’t quite decide what was sexier, the smirk on his face or the fact that he was shirtless, skin still glistening.

  “Hello, gorgeous.”

  I propped myself up on my elbows and smiled. “Hello yourself.”

  He checked the lock on the bedroom door and then slid under the blankets, arms wrapping around my waist to pull me to him. When his lips met mine, I moaned and melded my body against his. The hard feel of his erection at the apex of my thighs was delicious, and I wrapped one leg around his to pull him tighter.

  “Mmm, missed me, did you?” he whispered in a husky voice against my lips, then his mouth moved to my neck, sucking and nipping his way lower.

  Thrusting my hips into his, I murmured, “By the feel of it, I’d say you missed me too.”

  He palmed a breast, squeezing and then pinching my nipple through the thin material of my shirt. I arched closer and skimmed my hands from his shoulders down to his backside, pushing his pajama bottoms down off his butt cheeks.

  “I did miss you, Beck. And I need you.”

  No sooner had the words fallen from my lips than I felt a jolt of electricity through my body. It was an identical feeling to the one that had struck me when Rhiannon had buttoned up the wedding dress.

>   I took stock of my body, mentally considering if anything might be going haywire. That was why it took me a few seconds to realize it wasn’t mine that had a problem.

  At the exact moment the shock struck me, Beck froze in his lovemaking. After a moment, he rolled away from me and put a palm to his forehead, rubbing his temples. I started to ask what was wrong, but that was when I noticed the clear absence of a bulge between his legs.

  I put out my hand as if to touch him, but stopped. It was clear he was totally flaccid, as if we hadn’t been just about to do the deed.

  “Curses,” I muttered.

  Beck slapped his hand onto the bed and looked at me with an appalled frown. “Curses? Like curses, foiled again? This isn’t funny, Lynlee.”

  Yeah, the situation was not funny in the least, but his comment definitely was, and it took a lot of control not to at least smile. I bit my lip and nodded. “I know. I wasn’t making a joke.”

  “Geez, I can’t believe this. This has never happened to me. Ever.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. ”

  He sat up so fast that I was almost knocked off the side of the bed. “Jesus Christ, Lynlee. Please don’t apologize. It’s not you. You’re beautiful and perfect and it can’t be you.”

  He had his back to me, but I slinked up close to him and put my hands onto his shoulders so that I could lean in and kiss his cheek. “It is me, though. At least it’s my curse. I got cursed today.”

  His first-ever experience with erectile dysfunction sent Beck directly to the fridge for a beer. I followed him, and when he grabbed his, I reached around him to hook four fingers out for two more longnecks. Carrying them in one hand, I followed him back into his bedroom—er, our bedroom—all the while explaining what had happened earlier in the day with the wedding dress curse. We both plopped onto the edge of the bed, staring at the wall.

  “So how do you know this—” Beck gestured to his crotch. “—has anything to do with your curse?”

  I averted my eyes and took a long swig. “Well, a few things. First, I felt the same magic zap me as when I had the wedding dress on. And that was the moment you uh, well, that was the moment it happened.”