Cursed Brides and Alibis

by Amy Boyles

  “Thank you,” I said in a muffled voice. It came out weird, and I hoped Thorne didn’t notice how off-balance his gesture had made me.

  With my arm as stiff as a robot’s, I took the flowers and inhaled them. The delicate fragrance wafted up my nose. One whiff and all the tension in my shoulders melted and even my stiff expression softened.

  I lifted my gaze to his. “Thank you,” I said again, this time genuinely.

  A smile slowly curled on his lips, and Thorne replied, “You’re welcome.”

  Was that a hint of gold in his silvery eyes? And why hadn’t I noticed before that red dotted his cheeks. Was he nervous? There was nothing else in his face that suggested as much. He studied me with a soft expression, and his shoulders sat as wide and straight as I remembered.

  Only the small dots of color on his cheeks made me think emotions tugged at him.

  A vampire having emotions?

  Maybe they could feel. It wasn’t that the idea was impossible, it was just—if I admitted to myself that vampires felt things, then I’d have to possibly take the time to forgive the one who tried to take my life.

  I curled my fingers into the cellophane circling the flowers and turned away, looking for another vase to deposit them in.

  A pretty slender blue container appeared. “There you are, Charming,” Mama said.

  I dropped the flowers in the vase and turned back to the table.

  “Please, Thorne, sit here. Charming. You sit next to Thorne.”

  Panic scrambled up my throat. I fired off a look to my mother, and she jerked her head toward him.

  “Go ahead,” she said through gritted teeth. “Rose and I will bring the food out.”

  I slumped into the chair beside him. Suddenly the weight of silence seemed to lay heavy in the room.

  “You didn’t have to bring flowers,” I said.

  From the corner of my eye, I watched the bulk of Thorne turn to me. “It’s proper to thank a hostess for inviting you to dinner.”

  “But you won’t eat any of it,” I said before thinking of what I was saying. I cringed. “Sorry. I just meant…”

  “You mean my appetite is for different things. It is. It’s a curse I can’t escape.”

  The words came out with a tinge of bitterness, and I studied his face. Thorne’s eyes met mine, and heat flared in my neck. My pulse rose, and I quickly looked away.

  “You don’t like what you are?”

  It was never a thought I’d considered. Didn’t vampires like being vampires? Being immortal and powerful and all that?

  He tapped his fingers on the table. “Let’s just say I have my issues like most people.”

  I cocked a brow. “You don’t strike me as someone who has issues.”

  “Well, you haven’t tried getting to know me yet, have you?”

  I scoffed. “Okay. So you’ve got issues. But at least you weren’t attacked as a child like I was.”

  “That’s right, you’ve got issues too,” he joked. “Yours might actually be worse than mine.”

  “Are you joking?”

  “Yes.”

  Our gazes locked, and we both laughed. Tension flowed from me, and for the first time I realized Thorne might actually be a person inside that massive frame.

  There might be a human piece left inside him.

  Maybe I shouldn’t get too far ahead of myself.

  My mother and Rose entered with the food and settled it on the table. When Mama uncovered the main dish, it was pot roast. I almost rolled my eyes. No way was Thorne going to eat that.

  “I prepared a special dish for you,” Mama said. She whisked back into the kitchen and brought a plate especially for him.

  A slab of bloody steak lay on a plate, garnished with fresh parsley.

  Mama sat at the head of the table. “I thought the last time you joined us for dinner that you should’ve had your own meal. So this time I made one for you.”

  “Thank you,” Thorne said. “I appreciate you thinking of me.”

  When our plates were built, Mama turned to Thorne. “The spell on Reese is confusing. It is a coma, and it is magical, but the specifics of it I can’t seem to figure out. It’s almost as if the spell was created just for Reese.”

  Before I had a chance to stop myself, I said, “Rots Smythe said that Corley and Reese shared a cabin on the train and that they became buddy-buddy.”

  “Really?” Thorne said. “You ran into Rots Smythe and he offered that up?”

  I coughed into my hand. A wedge of pot roast stuck in my throat, choking me. Quick as a bouncing flea, the flat of Thorne’s hand was on my back, and with one swift pat, the meat was dislodged.

  “It was a good choice sticking Thorne by Charming,” Rose said to Mama. “Looks like that pot roast might be the death of her.”

  Pig snorted in agreement from her spot on the floor.

  I stopped myself from shooting Rose flaming daggers with my eyes. “Thank you,” I murmured to Thorne and sipped some water. “Better.”

  “Good,” Mama said. “Now. Back to the spell. If that’s true what Mr. Smythe said about Reese and Corley, then Corley may have only wanted Reese in a coma for a short period. Perhaps long enough to get away from whatever she left Chattanooga for.”

  “Wasn’t she supposed to have run off with a man?” Rose said. “That’s what the woman at Duvall’s told Charming.”

  The heat of Thorne’s stare felt like a lead weight. I waved the air and scoffed. “Oh, Mr. Blackwood doesn’t want to hear about all this silly business with Corley.”

  Thorne swiped a napkin over his mouth. “Mr. Blackwood most certainly does.”

  My gaze darted to the bloody steak. It appeared Thorne had actually eaten at least one bite of it.

  What was my mother trying to do, butter him up?

  “I ran into Rots Smythe,” I said candidly, “and happened to ask him about Corley.”

  “And how do y’all know her name?” Thorne said.

  “Oh, I thought that was common knowledge now,” I said.

  Thorne scowled. Obviously it was true. “Anyway, Rots and Corley argued on the platform, so I asked him about it.”

  Thorne scratched the stubble on his cheek. “I find it intriguing that a man who’s holed himself up for his research is now out wandering about.”

  “Me too.” I added in my most shocked voice, just to up the ante, “But I ran into him in Water Town.”

  My mother’s brows shot to peaks. “Oh, really?”

  “Yes, and my hair went haywire while I was there.”

  Mama shot me a look that suggested that needed to be investigated, which is exactly what I thought as well.

  “Well, your hair looks great now,” Thorne murmured.

  He saved me from dying via pot roast, brought flowers and then complimented my hair. What the heck was wrong with him?

  I shoved my food around on my plate while Mama flashed me a look that said if I didn’t thank Thorne, I would get a spanking.

  “Thanks,” I murmured, glancing over at him.

  “So this spell on Reese,” Thorne started, “you’re saying that Corley may have specifically tailored it to her.”

  “Right,” Mama said. “But unless we know what they spoke about or even more about Corley, then I’m afraid we’re shooting in the dark, so to speak.”

  Rose hand-fed Pig a green bean. “Well, what else would a future bride have spoken about but the man she hoped to marry?”

  Mama’s gaze locked on mine. “That’s exactly right. She would’ve spoken about Jamison.”

  “Which is how Corley knew about Jamison in the first place. She obviously took up with him to get away from someone.”

  Thorne made a stop gesture. “Can the three of you please calm down and let me and my team do the investigating?”

  “But we’re so good at it.” I flashed him a genuine smile, and Thorne smiled back.

  Ugh. For the second time I’d caught myself being nice to the vampire. I think I needed a loboto
my to set me straight.

  “But really, I’d appreciate it if y’all left the detective work to me.”

  “Of course,” I lied. “Just after we figure this out.”

  “Maybe Corley, like you suggested, didn’t plan on staying in town very long. Perhaps all she needed was a means to escape,” Mama mused.

  “But then that backfired with the welcome party,” I added. “So if she didn’t plan on staying around forever, as we think, and since Reese wasn’t murdered, simply put in a coma, that means either there’s a timer on the spell or something needs to happen to break it.”

  The doorbell rang.

  I rose. “It’s probably Jamison. I asked him to stop by and see Reese.”

  Then it hit me like a thousand tons of bricks cascading from the sky and pulverizing my body. I realized exactly what Corley had done.

  “A Sleeping Beauty spell,” Mama and I said at the same time.

  “Oh my gosh,” I exclaimed.

  “That’s it!” Mama rose. “Let’s get that boy in here.”

  I beat her to the door and flung it open. Jamison stood looking sheepish, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Hey, Miss Calhoun. Is this a good time?”

  I yanked him inside. “This is a great time. Jamison, we need you to do us a huge favor.”

  My mother nodded enthusiastically. “It’s very simple, really.”

  “Won’t take but a minute,” I said.

  Jamison nodded. “Sure. What do you need?”

  I licked my lips and girdled my courage. “We need you to kiss Reese.”

  Jamison’s gaze lingered on me before dragging to my mother. He opened his mouth and then slipped to the floor in a dead faint.

  Rose stepped over to us. “Well, that’s one way to ask him.”

  Chapter 10

  Thorne pulled me aside after he’d moved an unconscious Jamison to the couch. “You can’t have a man kiss a woman without her permission.”

  Frustration churned inside me. “What are you talking about?”

  His brow wrinkled, and a scowl crossed his face. “I’m talking about women’s rights. If you let Jamison kiss an unconscious woman and certain people find out, this could be disastrous. Not only for the investigation but for you and your company. It would be a media storm.”

  I nibbled the tip of my fingernail. Oh my gosh, I hadn’t thought about that, but Thorne was right. Allowing Jamison to kiss an unconscious woman without her consent, since we obviously couldn’t get it, could cause all sorts of problems.

  “But if it’s a Sleeping Beauty curse, that’s the only way to break it.” Thorne turned away, but I grabbed his arm. Heat from his skin radiated through his shirt. The intensity of the warmth startled me, and I released my grip.

  “This isn’t about me or about you and your interfering family,” he said briskly. “It’s about the sleeping woman in this house. Find another way.”

  My gut twisted in anguish. “What if there isn’t another way? You need her awake, Thorne.”

  His name on my lips tasted like sweet nectar. Our gazes snagged on one another, and I swear emotion flashed across his face before it vanished back into the stony expression I was used to.

  “Find another way,” he growled. “There has to be one. I can’t allow an unconscious woman to be kissed by a strange man.”

  I fisted my hands. “He’s her soul mate. He’s not a stranger.”

  Thorne dropped his voice. “Yes, and Jamison thought Corley was his soul mate, didn’t he? You saw how he swooned over her. To him, she was Reese, and now we’re asking him to jump over to another woman—the real one—and kiss her so that they can live happily ever after and we can figure out who murdered the fake Reese.”

  He paused, letting his words sink in. “Do you hear how insane that sounds?”

  “It doesn’t sound insane,” I squeaked.

  It did sound loony.

  He threw back his head and laughed. When he glanced at me, I was shooting him such a fiery look that Thorne yanked me by the elbow out the door and onto the porch.

  “It does sound insane. There’s absolutely nothing coherent about having him kiss Reese. What if you were in the same situation, would you want a man who’d just professed his love for one woman to suddenly want to kiss you?”

  I folded my arms and jutted out my chin. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe Corley spelled Jamison? Perhaps he wasn’t acting on his own, but she was using him. Did that enter that thick vampire skull of yours?”

  “Oh, so we’re back to that, are we? I’m a big bad vampire and you’re a perfect witch.”

  “I never said I was perfect.”

  “You don’t have to,” he spat. “The way you prance around this town like you own the place says it all.”

  “I’ve been hired to help Witch’s Forge,” I screamed. “At least I’m not imprisoned here because I ticked off my daddy.”

  Every word that spewed from me felt good. It felt great to get all my pent-up frustration out. Plus, what I’d said about Thorne was true. He was imprisoned here because he’d turned a dying woman his father loved into a vampire.

  Please don’t focus too hard on the romantic part of that. Thorne was a brute—plain and simple.

  “Why did I bring you those roses?” he said quietly.

  Of all the things he’d said, that struck me the hardest. Did he regret them? Well, I wasn’t going to let him regret it.

  I rushed back inside and snatched the flowers from the vase. When I returned, the shock on his face as I shoved the flowers into his chest almost undid me.

  “If you’re so sorry you gave them to me, here. Take them back. I don’t want them. Thank you for your company,” I spat. “I hope your steak was bloody enough. I’ll be sure to tell my mother you said goodbye.”

  I stalked off toward the house. As I opened the door, I could swear I heard Thorne chuckle.

  I slammed it behind me.

  “Thorne says we can’t have Jamison kiss Reese.”

  Jamison was still out, and I’d gathered my family in the dining room.

  “Well, I suppose you ran him off,” Mama chirped.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means,” Rose started to explain, “that your mother thinks you showed Thorne a bit of that bad attitude and temper you sometimes show off.”

  I crossed my arms. “I did not lose my temper.”

  Mama and Rose exchanged a look. “Dear,” Mama said soothingly, “why don’t you go ahead and admit you like the vampire? The world won’t suddenly explode if you say that. It’s obvious he likes you.”

  I choked on a gob of saliva that slid down my throat. Luckily I didn’t need the vampire to save me this time. After the way I’d acted, he was probably never coming back.

  “He doesn’t like me,” I argued.

  Mama fluffed out her hair, which was still holding up well, I had to say. “Oh no? He asked you to dance at the party, and then tonight he brought you flowers. The last I checked those were signs that a man had intentions about a woman.”

  “Your mother’s right,” Rose said. “Just be glad the mating rituals between vampires and witches are similar. What if a werewolf liked you? I think they bring their love interests dead birds. Wouldn’t that be awful? Open your door and there’s a bluebird with a broken neck on the porch?”

  I raked my fingers down my face. “That’s cats, Rose. Cats take their owners dead mice and birds. They do it in thanks. Not werewolves.”

  Rose frowned. “What do werewolves bring then?”

  “Gold slippers,” Mama said smartly. “Who knows? We’re talking about Charming and how she’s pushing Thorne away like she pushes away every man who shows the slightest bit of interest in her.”

  I scoffed. “That’s absolutely not true. I don’t push men away.”

  Mama gestured toward the door. “Then what do you call that? You shoved your roses in his chest and told him to take a hike. You’re only lucky he thought it was cute.�
��

  My cheeks flamed red. “What are you talking about?”

  She hiked a shoulder. “He thought your anger and rage were cute. Most large men think smaller women are adorable. No doubt he admires the spitfire in you.” She sniffed. “Something you get from me, obviously.”

  “Obviously.” I rolled my eyes. “But I take offense that I push men away.”

  “You do,” Mama said. “Anytime in the past when I suggested you spend more time with a boy, you always said they weren’t your type.”

  “That’s because they weren’t,” I fumed. “In high school you wanted me to go out with Gary Funkerdink. He ate chocolate and squeezed his pimples in class. It was disgusting.”

  Rose grinned widely. “This Gary sounds like an intriguing fellow. Where is he now? I’m sure he’s not popping his pimples.”

  “Who cares? He wasn’t my type.”

  Mama dismissed me with a wave of her hand. “You can’t argue with Charming, Rose. Anyway. We’ll drop the subject. All we’re trying to tell you is that the vampire likes you and it wouldn’t hurt for you to be a little nice back. After all, your job is to bring together people in love.”

  “I’m not in love and neither is he.” I raked my fingers through my hair and let my hand drop. “Can we please get back to the important conversation? We need Jamison to kiss Reese, but Thorne said it can’t happen.”

  Rose wrung her hands. “What are we supposed to do now? It’s not as if we can put lipstick on Pig and have her pretend to be Reese’s true love.”

  Mother studied me. “What are you thinking, Charming?”

  I exhaled a shot of air. “As much as I hate to say it, and I really do—but I think we should go behind Thorne on this one.”

  “But we always go behind Thorne,” Rose said. “I didn’t think you hated saying it then. Do you now?”

  I scoffed. “No. I just meant—” I flexed my fingers in frustration. “I just meant I feel bad doing it because Thorne warned it could cause real problems if it got out.”

  “If what got out?”

  Jamison had entered the room. My gaze dashed to Mama. I’ll be honest, I didn’t want to have to tell him our plan, especially now that Thorne had butted his head into the situation.