SOMETHING WICKED

by Mitchell, Liza

  CHAPTER TWO

  MALCOLM

  Malcolm distractedly flipped through the paperwork on his desk. His morning routine had not changed in almost eighty years—wake at five a.m., coffee, business reports, and a brief with Simon. Today, he couldn’t concentrate; he’d read a breaking news story about the kidnappings, and he dreaded having to share it with Cara. His head snapped up every time the floor outside of his office door creaked. It was nearly nine a.m. and she hadn’t come downstairs yet. Every passing minute added to his anxiety.

  The Alpha had told Simon to stay in the front hall and keep an eye out for her; Malcolm didn’t want her to wake up alone in a new place and feel lost. Perhaps he should go upstairs and wake her… No. She needed to sleep.

  He began to tackle emails that had accumulated over the last day. Sixty-seven. He went through the motions of opening the first message and skimming through the content. The door opened and Malcolm shot out of his chair, hoping to see Cara.

  “What?” he growled at the wolf standing in the doorway. Simon had been Malcolm’s right-hand man for decades. He was fiercely loyal and excelled both as a personal assistant and an enforcer. But, admittedly, Malcolm was not the most patient man, regardless of who he was speaking to.

  “Cara is here.” Simon stepped aside to reveal the petite woman with curly, honey-blond hair.

  “No, it’s okay,” she said to no one in particular. “If you’re busy, I’ll go somewhere… come back later…” She trailed off and started to retreat from the doorway.

  Shit, he must have scared her when he barked at Simon.

  “Please, stay.” Malcolm’s voice instantly softened, and he hurried toward her. “Simon, bring us coffee and something to eat. Cara, please sit down,” he said gesturing, toward a chair.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked quietly.

  “Yes, thank you.” She nodded and glanced around his study. She never seemed able to focus on one thing. “Your home is absolutely surreal.”

  “We’ve worked hard for what we have, but I’m glad you like it.” The study was impressive. The warm wood from the front hall carried into his office, and ornately carved crown moldings drew the eye upward, emphasizing the size of the room. Floor-to-ceiling shelves and windows lined the walls, interrupted only by a fireplace. The intricately carved mantel held a few prized possessions—a blue and white eighteenth-century French vase, silver candlesticks from his childhood home, and a gaudy bronze and porcelain clock.

  Simon entered with a breakfast cart, poured the two of them coffee, and disappeared back to his post outside the office door. Cara held her cup in both hands and sipped eagerly. “Thank you. I can’t remember the last time I had to wait so long for coffee. I might have a serious problem.” Malcolm raised his eyebrow. “Oh, I don’t mean that he took too long to bring it in. No, not at all. I just… At home, I make coffee and then drink it while getting ready. And today I had to, you know, get ready without caffeine.”

  Malcolm smiled. He couldn’t tell if she was nervous or if her mind was already off to the races. “You can have coffee brought to your room. If you would like, you may use the phone on your desk to call the kitchen and either arrange a time the night before or call when you wake.”

  “Oh, no. I couldn’t do that. If I stay another night, I’ll just eat with everyone else. Where is everyone else?”

  “They are working,” he answered dismissively. “Cara.” He set down his cup and moved to a seat closer to hers. “There was a news story this morning.” She tensed, straightening her back but staring directly into her mug. “It’s not Brianna, but the bodies of the other two women were discovered last night.”

  “Bodies?” Her voice shook, and she still refused to make eye contact.

  “Yes. The report didn’t give any information on what state the bodies were in or what had happened to them.” He placed a hand on her knee and circled an arm over her shoulders. He could not stomach that look on her face. He’d delivered plenty of bad news over the years. Normally he remained removed from the—his wolves needed a strong leader, not an empathetic one—but sharing this with Cara made his chest ache. “Ransom will be here any minute. I will find her. We will find her.”

  Cara nodded, her head still bent toward the floor, eyes blinking rapidly.

  Instinctively, he whispered, “I’m sorry,” and kissed her temple. She didn’t pull away from him and he stayed there, listening to her racing heart.

  Who was this witch who had him under her spell? He’d been intrigued from the moment he’d met her. She was fierce and courageous and didn’t give a damn about what others thought of her. Malcolm’s first introduction to Cara was her barking commands at three massive Alpha wolves, himself included, without a single ounce of self-consciousness or doubt. He was drawn to her like he’d never been drawn to a woman before.

  He continued to hold her, silently willing her to speak. He may have only known Cara for twelve hours, but it was disconcerting for her to be so quiet. He was sure she drove other people mad with her constant stream of consciousness, but he loved it. She was a live wire, and he had felt dead for quite a while.

  The office door opened again. Malcolm slowly pulled away from Cara and turned toward the noise, ready to glare at Simon. Instead, he relaxed his expression. “Ransom, thank you for coming. Help yourself to some coffee.”

  “I’ve made a few phone calls,” the wolf said, resting his hands the back of a sofa. “The police are staying fairly tight-lipped.”

  Cara snapped to attention. “You talked to the police? Who did you speak to? What did you ask? Have they been to our house yet? Do I need to meet them there? What do they know about the bodies?”

  Ransom’s mouth opened a few times, trying to answer her questions, but it promptly closed as she plowed on. The investigator looked to Malcolm for help, but Malcolm’s mouth just curled at the edges, amused by his confusion.

  Malcolm waited for Cara to pause before jumping in. “Ransom, this is Cara, the missing woman’s sister.”

  “Right. Well, I called the precinct this morning and spoke to Chief Brooks. I asked him a number of questions. The only information he would share was to confirm that the bodies on the beach were the kidnapped women. I don’t know if they are investigating your house. You should be there when they do.”

  Ransom circled the couch and sat down across from Cara. “Tell me everything you can about your sister. A victim is chosen at a certain time, in a certain place, for a certain reason. I need to know why she was chosen in order to figure out who took her.”

  “What about the police? Wouldn’t they have information from their investigation?”

  Malcolm squeezed her leg. Cara jerked her head in his direction. “I’ll handle the police. I have a better rapport with them than Ransom does… He prefers to work alone.”

  “Well,” Cara started, “I’m sure the fact my family was helping wolves kidnap people plays into this somehow,” she said venomously. Ransom’s face didn’t show any signs of recognition. “She’s a witch. Our sister Eileen and her wolf Cain were the last victims of a string of assaults around Wildwood. My sisters Eileen and Grace helped the wolves set a trap to catch the attackers. The Wildwood Alpha kidnapped one instead of turning him over to the police.”

  Ransom’s face still hadn’t moved. Malcolm stared at her. She had made it obvious in the past that she didn’t care for shifters, but she spat out her story with more hatred than he had ever seen from her before. “That Alpha kept him prisoner and tortured him for almost a full week. Despite the fact that the man wasn’t able to answer him because he was under a curse. Something my sister discovered after only minutes with him. Malcolm and I returned the man to his home last night and then discovered Brianna had been kidnapped.”

  “So the people who attacked your sister were cursed by witches. Were all the victims of the other attacks witches?”

  Cara shook her head. “Not that I know of, but the muggers did target women.”

  “What
about the two kidnapped women?” Ransom leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs.

  “No? I’m not sure.”

  “Why wouldn’t you know who was in the coven? These were all local women.” The wolf titled his head, confused.

  “I left the craft when I was in high school. I don’t know who is in the coven. My sisters haven’t practiced with the Wildwood coven in over five years, so perhaps those women moved to the area and joined the coven in the time since they left it.”

  “Why did they leave?” Malcolm asked. It was unheard of for witches to leave a coven. Walking away from the coven meant walking away from a lot of power, and protection.

  “The coven started fucking around with black magic.”

  “Okay, but why have Malcolm call me when you and your sisters could just use magic to find her?”

  “I’m sure my sisters have, but wouldn’t you do everything you could to find someone you love? I’m not holding my breath for magic to solve my problem; spells are just requests for the goddess. She answers them however the fuck she wants to.”

  “All right.” Malcolm rubbed her leg, trying to soothe her. He ran his hand over the curve of her thigh. His palm came to rest at the top. He heard her heartbeat quicken as he stroked her leg gently with his thumb. Cara was staring at his hand, and the smell of her arousal filled his nostrils. Though, to be honest, the smell of her anxiety was stronger.

  Ransom cleared his throat. Fuck. If Malcolm could smell her, so could the other wolf. Cara jolted, pulling away from him and crossing her legs. “Tell me about Brianna, outside of being a witch and getting tangled up in crime fighting.”

  “She wasn’t part of the trap because she’s never really around. She works in a health foods store in town. She liked to walk everywhere, even in the cold weather. Brianna has always been a partier, so it’s normal for her not to come home, but she’d always touched base with Eileen.”

  “Who does she hang out with and where do they go?”

  Cara shrugged. “Anyone and everywhere. I have her phone. That might help you.”

  “Yes, go get that for me.”

  Cara shot up and briskly walked from the room.

  “What do you think?” Malcolm asked.

  “I’m not sure. There’s not a clear line from Cain’s attack and Heath’s kidnapping to Brianna’s disappearance. You said the house was fucked. Might she have hosted a party there and just moved on to a new location? If she likes to party, she could just be hung over on someone else’s couch. Have you talked to Chief Brooks yet?”

  “No, I have that benefit gala for the Fraternal Order of Police tonight. I was going to talk to him then. Face to face. With a blank check.”

  “I’m coming with you.” Cara stood in the doorway. “And Bri would never do that to our home. She never brought people to the house, and if she did, she wouldn’t let that destruction happen.”

  “All right. I’ll be in touch.” Ransom stood and nodded at Malcolm. Cara handed him Brianna’s phone and moved aside so he could leave the room.

  “Cara, I think you need to make sure Eileen and Grace have cast a spell to find Brianna.” Malcolm reclined on the couch, laying his arms along the length of the sofa’s back. “Ransom is good, but with bodies showing up already, you shouldn’t leave anything to chance.”

  “No. I would never ask someone to use magic,” she shot back at him.

  “Why?”

  “Because there are no rules. Every spell you cast has the potential of turning into a ‘Monkey’s Paw’ situation. I don’t want any part of that world anymore.”

  “Then what are you doing here?” If Cara hated magic and the supernatural so much, why did she stay at a wolf’s home? Accepted his help? Enjoy his touch…

  “I need your help,” she answered quietly. “And I trust you.”

  Malcolm knew that wasn’t the whole truth, and her unspoken words hung heavily between them. He changed the subject, speaking as casually as possible. “If you really want to come to the benefit tonight, you’ll need a gown. It’s black tie. Do you own one?” Cara shook her head. “Would you like to buy one yourself or would you prefer I have one brought here?”

  “Don’t make me go shopping.”

  “Okay. I’ll have all of that taken care of. We’ll leave at seven. I’ll meet you in the front hall.”

  He needed to get back to work, but he wasn’t sure how to dismiss Cara, nor did he really want her to leave. With his wolves, they knew to leave when Malcolm was through with them.Cara stood inside the door, awkwardly rocking back and forth on her feet. “Cara,” he started softly, hoping he didn’t make a mistake, “I have to return to work. I don’t have any meetings today. If you would like, you may stay here. Or I can have Simon give you a tour of the house?”

  She smiled wanly. “I’d love a tour.”

  As if by magic, Simon appeared in the doorway and led Cara away. Malcolm sighed and took his seat behind the desk. This was going to be a long day. He’d spend the entire morning and afternoon looking forward to the evening.

  At seven fifteen, he’d showered and dressed and had been waiting for Cara for almost thirty minutes. No one left him waiting. It was disrespectful.

  He couldn’t let his wolves see her treat him with such irreverence. Malcolm paced in front of the stairs, trying to fight the urge to go to her room to retrieve her. He looked up and saw Simon and a few other wolves watching him.

  Malcolm let out a low growl and stormed up the steps. His footsteps echoed in the hallway as he charged toward Cara’s room. He shouldn’t be so upset with her, but he couldn’t calm himself down. He pounded on the door, bursting into the room without waiting for a response.

  He stopped short. Cara stood in the middle of the floor with her back to the door. Her rich purple dress hung around her waist and her hair hung over her shoulder, exposing her entire back.

  She turned around, her arms folded over her naked breasts. “What the fuck? Why didn’t you knock?” She screeched.

  He couldn’t tear his eyes off of her body. “I did. You’re late.” She looked phenomenal, and he didn’t want to go to the gala anymore. He didn’t want to leave this room.

  “I’m late because I can’t zip my dress… and I fell asleep in the bathtub. I’m sorry.” She pulled up the front of her gown and reached behind her, trying to grab the zipper.

  She fell asleep in the tub. Malcolm’s cock ached. He pictured her laid out under the water, her hair spilling over the edge, her soft pink nipples sitting above the surface. Fuck, he would like to see that. He walked to her and reached for the zipper. It pained him to cover her pristine skin with clothing. He’d rather be taking it off.

  He stepped back. The deep purple of the gown looked spectacular against her tousled hair. The dress hugged her waist and hips and fell gracefully around her legs. He couldn’t decide what he wanted to touch more, her exposed décolletage or her perfectly round ass that teased him from beneath layers of satin. Malcolm watched her walk out of the room. Cara had definitely bewitched him.

  CHAPTER THREE

  CARA

  Malcolm offered Cara his arm when they reached the staircase. Her heart was pounding, and she wasn’t sure what she was more nervous about: a night with Malcolm, or a night in heels. She moved carefully down the steps, clinging to his arm, counting quietly in her head, trying to remain calm.

  He guided her to the front of the hall where several wolves were waiting. One opened the door for them while another scurried past to open the doors to the town car that waited in the circle drive.

  “You aren’t driving?” Cara asked, a little disappointed.

  “No, not to events like this. Most people will arrive in hired cars.” Malcolm helped her into the back seat before walking to the other side and letting himself in.

  The interior of the car was a spacious sea of black. Next to Malcolm, a small console held two glasses, an ice bucket, and a bottle of liquor. He did not fuck around. He reached for the glasses, filling the
m with ice and a deep amber liquid. He offered one to Cara, but she hesitated. “What is it?”

  “Bourbon. Good bourbon.”

  Cara held the tumbler and tentatively took a sip. It didn’t burn, but it also didn’t taste good. She took a few more polite sips before setting the glass aside. She nervously picked at imaginary lint on her skirt, sneaking peaks at the man next to her. “I’d say something like, ‘you clean up well,’ but this is essentially your standard attire with a vest and a bow tie.” She blushed. He did clean up well. He looked like a 1920s mob boss. It was very appealing.

  Malcolm stretched an arm behind her back. “You look stunning.” He played with a strand of her hair at the base of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. His touch was electric. Even this morning, she’d melted when he brushed her leg. She truly didn’t care that he was a wolf—she wanted him.

  Cara put her hand on his leg and leaned forward. Her hand guided her, sliding higher and higher up his leg. She waited for him to tell her to stop. He didn’t. Instead, his mouth fell open, and his eyes grew dark. He finally exhaled when her hand came to rest playfully close to his dick, and her lips inches away from his.

  Malcolm’s mouth crashed into hers. His hand wrapped around her back and held her in place, and a quiet growl escaped him. She kissed him eagerly, her tongue dancing around his. Every nerve ending was on fire, her core ached, and she struggled to get closer. His need, his urgency gave her confidence and added fuel to the fire inside of her, but her damn dress confined her in the worst possible way. She couldn’t spread her legs, couldn’t climb on top of him. Couldn’t open to him. Cara moaned against his lips, frustration building.

  Malcolm’s cock throbbed against her hand. She relished in the slow pulses of blood pumping through him, bringing his cock to life. She felt powerful. Sexy.

  He reached around and unzipped her dress, letting the satin fall around her waist. Her nipples were already tight pink peaks. He cupped her breast and rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and she whimpered at his touch. Malcolm’s lips smiled against hers.