Kept (27 page)

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Authors: Shawntelle Madison

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #General, #Fantasy

BOOK: Kept
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I fell asleep in his arms on the porch, but when I woke up the next morning, I was tucked safely in my bed. All alone. I sat up, my mind racing. My gaze shifted to the empty spot next to me on the bed. The blankets hadn’t been moved, but the pillow had been used. He’d briefly lain next to me while I’d slept.

If Thorn had asked me if he could stay the night, would I have said yes? Even under the circumstances? I
knew the truth now about why he’d stayed away, and I still wanted him.

Then I remembered Grandma’s words:
“One of them was made for your heart. While the other one was made for your soul.”

Out of the two men in my life, Nick was my kindred spirit—my kindred soul. The man who had quirks similar to mine. We could surely sit together for hours talking. Content with each other’s company. But that wasn’t enough. I yearned for Thorn, with every breath I took, every beat of my forever stubborn heart. Grandma didn’t need to tell me which was which. After the talk with Thorn last night, I knew the answer.

The revelation didn’t ease my pain. Matter of fact, it made it all the more powerful. I lightly banged the back of my head against my headboard and wished I had some grand scheme to escape this place. To escape this feeling:
regret at what might have been
.

I didn’t want to face Nick, but I still worked up the bravery to ask him out for some coffee.

Even after what happened during our Christmas dinner, he was still willing to hear me out.

“Sure, I got the scoop on Mike’s Magical Cart if you’re interested,” he said.

I couldn’t resist chuckling. Nick always knew how much I loved cart food in New York. The stuff was practically a food group to any New Yorker, but for the supernaturals who roamed here, Mike’s cart offered the best.

“Not today. I’d prefer a quick coffee.”

We walked through the snow to the nearest deli. We didn’t have to go far. Nick offered to teleport us there, but I declined. My feet worked just fine. Even though I was still sore from training every morning by myself.

After we sat down with coffee, he spoke while I wiped down the table.

“You look really distracted today.”

I shrugged. “We all have our good days and our bad ones. Today, mine isn’t of the good variety.”

He reached out and touched my hand as I wiped off the creamer. When I paused, he withdrew.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

Would talking about it make it any better? “There’s been some developments.” I searched my frazzled brain for the right words. When they grouped together, I recounted to Nick what had happened to Thorn five years ago. Every little detail. It felt great to get it out—to lay my pain out to someone else, someone who listened without interrupting me.

Instead of immediately telling me everything would be all right, he said, “You must hate me right now.”

“No, I don’t hate you. It’s rather hard to hate someone so nice.”

“What I did to you wasn’t what happened to Thorn. You know that, don’t you?”

I prepared my coffee as I spoke. Anything to keep my mind steady. “Didn’t you use me?”

He swallowed visibly. “Yes, I did. But it wasn’t like what that warlock did. He didn’t care about Thorn.”

“So then why did you do it? Couldn’t you have saved us without using me?”

Nick had abandoned his coffee to rub his fingers together. It seemed our hands told the world so much about how we were feeling. “With more time, I could’ve thought of something. But I had to make a split-second choice. It wasn’t the best decision, but I had to protect us.”

He was silent for a moment, then added, “Do you believe me?”

I nodded, although part of me wished things could’ve
gone differently. How could I forget about it when Thorn and my mother had been through something so similar? Could wizards and warlocks just go around doing that kind of thing to anyone?

“I want to ask you something.” I leaned forward in my seat. “Based on what happened to Thorn, would it be possible to reverse the damage? He compared himself to a tainted wand.”

Nick thought for a bit. “I don’t know. I’ve never owned a tainted weapon before. The most I’ve heard is that blackened wands and staffs are turned in to the Warlocks’ Guild to be disposed of. Whether they can be cleaned is a matter they’d handle.”

“The Warclocks’ Guild. I’ve never heard of them. Would they see me?”

“No,” he said. When I frowned, he spoke quickly. “Don’t even think about seeing those guys. If you think the warlock who captured Thorn was bad—well, you haven’t seen the worst of the lot. They’re a bunch of thieves and con men who keep the wizards busy cleaning up their messes with the humans.”

My disappointment must’ve been evident.

“I’ll ask around for you, see what I can find. But I can’t guarantee anything. Warlocks and wizards haven’t gotten along in a very long time.”

That wasn’t new information to me about their little fights, but I nodded and left it at that. We sat for the longest of time, silent and staring into our coffee cups.

By the time I finished mine, we said our good-byes.

I hoped Nick didn’t think I hated him.

Not long after I started cooking dinner that evening, Aggie asked if she could have company over.

“Would you have a problem if I had a guest tonight?” she asked.

I gave her a sly smile. “You mean would I have a problem
if you and Will had hot monkey sex tonight in your room?”

“It’s not what you think, Nat.”

“Oh, yes it is.”

“I actually like him. I think he likes me, too.”

I couldn’t help revealing a cheesy grin from looking at Aggie’s very serious face. “You really do like him.”

“Yeah, I talked to your grandma and aunt Vera, and they said he’d make a good match for me.”

“Ehh, I wouldn’t listen to Aunt Vera when it comes to matchmaking. She’s a barracuda who’ll hook you up with one of my cousins when you least expect it.”

Aggie stole a mini-tomato from the salad I was preparing. “Give the woman a break. She means well. Your grandma says Will and I would make pretty pups.”

“Anything the Grantham brothers produce would be pretty.” The statement immediately made me pause and cringe. Why had I said it?

Thankfully, Aggie missed the connection, and continued. “My dad would never approve of him, but it’s not like he has a say in my life anymore.”

“That’s true.” Aggie’s overbearing father stopped calling here looking for her. At first, this had bothered Aggie, since she’d expected her dad to show up to take her back to New York City, but then she relaxed a bit when Will came calling more often. He’d been good for her.

“So when’s Will coming over?” I asked.

“I have to ask him.”

“Aggie, when’s he coming over?”

“You just assume I made the arrangements without asking you?”

I stared her down in a way that said,
Did you really expect me not to know?

She sighed. “Midnight.”

I took the pan-seared chicken off the skillet. “Good.
You’ll have plenty of time to clean up before he gets here.”

I sensed her smirk behind me. Let her fume for a bit. At least one of us will wake up tomorrow morning with an I-got-some-and-it-was-good smile on her face.

“Did you get the message from your grandmother?” Aggie asked.

“What message?”

“The one I left you by the door.”

In my current state, Aggie could have left a message on a billboard and I would’ve missed the damn thing.

“She wants you to stop at your parents’ house. She wasn’t specific when I pried.” Aggie winked when she mentioned how she’d tried to call Grandma and get more information from her. “The note says she wants to show you something.”

More old magic, perhaps?

I placed both chicken breasts on one plate and handed it to Aggie. “Enjoy!”

“Hey, where are you going?”

“To see Grandma real quick.”

“What about the food?”

“I’ll pick up a burger at Archie’s on the way home. Save it for Will, for all I care.”

By the time I got to my parents’ place, they’d already eaten dinner. Everyone was settled in front of the TV, watching some Russian-dubbed soap opera. Dad was snoring on his La-Z-Boy while Mom helped Grandma with her knitting. From the pink-and-white blanket I spotted, Grandma and Mom had another gift set planned for Sveta.

“What are you doing here, Nat?” Mom asked.

“I came to talk to Grandma about a few things.”

Grandma motioned me over. I kissed her cheeks and gave her a warm hug.

“I want to take a walk, Anna. Can you fetch my coat?” Grandma asked.

A few minutes later, I journeyed with my grandmother through the subdivision. She asked me how I was doing, but she primarily wanted to know if I’d been practicing.

“Do you still remember?” she asked.

I chanted the spell slowly. When I made mistakes, she corrected them.

“Not bad,” she said.

By the time we were almost back at the house, I expected to learn something new, but she didn’t offer.

“You seem distracted tonight,” she said.

We chatted at the back of the house. I offered to go inside, but she declined, saying she wanted to enjoy the cold air like she did when she was back in Russia.

“Everything isn’t going as planned, Grandma. First, it’s Nick and now it’s Thorn.” I sat down on the old swing set while she sat in the bench across from me. I kicked at the snow and it drifted slowly back down.

“What’s wrong with Thorn?”

I told her everything. About his imprisonment. About the price he’d paid for me. Just speaking of it left me feeling empty again.

“That isn’t good at all. Such a shame.” She tsked.

I gripped the ice-cold railings that held up the swing. The glacial sensation seeped through my gloves. “And I can’t help feeling bad for Nick as well. He’s very sorry about what happened between us.”

“Is that your wizard friend?”

“Yes.” I tried to find the courage to say everything. I had to tell someone or it would drive me crazy. “Nick helped me when the Jackson pack attacked us from all sides. He saved me, but he had to use me—like that wizard used my mother, like Thorn’s kidnapper used him.”

I stared at the ground and made circles in the snow with my shoe. A heeled boot was the worst thing to
wear out in the snow, but it was part of my standard wardrobe during the wintertime.

“Did Nick apologize for what happened?”

“Of course he did. But it doesn’t change that it happened.”

“Does Thorn know?”

I gulped. “No, and I’d never tell him. I don’t think Nick should have his throat torn out. But I also feel like what he did has made our friendship awkward.”

Grandma nodded. “I’d imagine so.”

The back door creaked open. We turned to see my mother poking her head outside. Had she heard anything?

“Natalya, don’t let your grandma stay in the cold like this.” My mother frowned for good measure, then smiled. “My mother might be a polar bear, but she’s bound to get sick if she plays outside too long.”

Grandma rolled her eyes. Thankfully, Mom wasn’t at an angle to see her mother’s expression. Folks tried to take care of Grandma much more than she’d prefer at times.

“Let’s go inside, Grandma.”

She placed her arm through mine, and we walked into the house. As I got her settled, I heard a knock at the door. “I’ll get it.”

I unlocked the door and opened it to see Alex.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Talking with Grandma. Is everything okay with the baby?”

He pushed off my concerns. “She’s fine. Karey needs some spices, and I knew Mom would have them. What did Thorn want?”

I froze. “Thorn was here?”

“He was just outside the door. It looked like he was leaving. And boy, was he pissed.”

The synapses in my brain choked and then fired to connect point A to point B in mere seconds. Outside. In the backyard. Oh God, I’d told Grandma about Nick and me. I’d told her everything about how Nick had used me.

Oh, shit.

Before I could grab my keys, Grandma sputtered, “Find Nick,
now
.”

Chapter 22

I
’d
never driven so fast in my life. Driving at night wasn’t my favorite activity, especially when my mind couldn’t stop thinking about every cop along the Parkway waiting for someone like me to donate the cost of a speeding ticket to their department budget.

My mind then kept twirling around two questions: How far ahead was he? Did he know
where
to find Nick?

To be safe, first I drove by the Grantham cabin, but Thorn’s SUV wasn’t there. Driving past his usual haunts also came up with zero results.

My heart sank to think about what could be happening right now. Thorn, furious and bitter, ready to open a new bloody pocket in Nick’s coat. Nick, forced to defend himself, having to hurt Thorn.

This whole situation would go down the crapper faster than I could snatch an ornament at a post-Christmas sale.

While one hand held the wheel, the other one tried his cell phone. It rang, and rang, and rang.

“Pick up the phone, Thorn Grantham,” I hissed.

I tossed the phone in the passenger seat. Why
would
he pick up? He was probably too busy sharpening his hunting knife while he drove with his knees!

A normally one-hour drive to New York took me forty-five minutes. I still had to cross Manhattan to
reach Brooklyn, where Nick lived, but the evening traffic wasn’t cruel to me.

By the time I reached the Greenpoint neighborhood, I was happy to see everything looked intact. There was hardly a place for me to park, though, so I decided to walk to Nick’s place to investigate.

Then I spotted a line of smoke in the air from the next street over. I rolled down my window, and the smell hit me. Burning gasoline and burnt cinnamon in the air.

“Damn it, Thorn.”

Screw the car. I’d been towed before. I double-parked and sprinted around the corner. If I didn’t have to worry about the poor humans who might get in the middle of a fight, I might have freaked out from the possibility of no way home or having to pay an exorbitant fee to retrieve my vehicle.

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