Misfortune Cookie (7 page)

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Authors: Casey Wyatt

BOOK: Misfortune Cookie
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Relief fluttered over his face. He kissed the inside of my palm, sending all kinds of warm heat through me. “I promise not to ever leave you.”

A weight lifted off of me. Power interwove between us, like we had passed an important milestone. “So want to tell me about this psychometry thing?”

“What would you like to know?”

“First off, how can I control it?”

It turned out managing the all-knowing hands of doom wouldn’t happen in three easy lessons. It would take weeks of trial and error, some tears (mostly mine) and a lot of cursing (Luca and I took turns on that one). After the disaster with Reg’s gift, Luca and Julian took me to various public places to test my hands and hone my control.

First thing I learned was to create a barrier in my mind. Second thing was that not all objects gave off an impression and that not all impressions were worth minding. Most of it was inane, no better than background noise. Despite weeks of practice and a few successful spirit runs, I remained wary of another mind-bending encounter that could short-circuit all my hard work.

Luca also used training as an excuse to conduct lessons at Ashworth Manor. I still refused to live there full-time, preferring to spend evenings at home. He’d agreed with an ominous, “For now.”

We’d see who’d win that battle, in the end. My money was on my iron determination.

“Are you paying attention?” Luca wrapped his knuckles on Sebastian’s ornate desk, reminding me to pay attention.

“Fuck you, Luca.” I glared at Sebastian’s portrait, wishing I could kick him. “Somewhere in the Hereafter’s nonexistent training manual, they failed to mention that I’d be summoned day and night.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a full night of sleep. I’d since learned to keep ready to wear clothes, mostly leather since it’s easy to wipe off, and sturdy boots, for sounder ass kickings, by the bedside. It had only taken a mission, okay two, in a flimsy nightshirt to hammer that lesson home.

His expression softened. “I am truly sorry about that. It will get better with time. The first months are hardest. The higher ups like to a test new recruit’s resolve.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been such a bitch to Joanna,” Julian tossed out unhelpfully.

I rounded on the ghost, hands on my hips. “How would you know? You run every time she’s around. Why is that any way? You afraid of her?”

“I just know you don’t like anyone telling you what to do.” He studied the ends of his fingertips, failing to address my question. Typical.

“Damn right,” I said, tossing a pillow through his body. He hated when I did that. Said it messed up his inner chi. Whatever the hell that meant.

“Children. Can we get back to the matter at hand?” Luca said, in what I like to call the “lawyer voice.” “Radiance, direct your attention to the items on the table.”

When I glared at him, he added, “Please.”

Laid out in order of size, from daintiest to downright bludgeoning, were a series of weapons presumably chosen from Sebastian’s vast collection of antiquities.

“I don’t get it. Why was Reg’s gift so overwhelming?” I passed my palms over each item in turn. “None of these have objects hurt me the way his did. It was just a piece of jewelry.” I plucked an axe from the table. The tag read
LB, exhibit A120587.

Julian hovered nearby, blinking in and out. “Are you sure you should touch that?”

“I’m fine.” Mental shields set aside, I accepted the searing vibration. Blood. Cries for mercy. Anger. Hatred. Bad Victorian wallpaper splattered with gore. A dead man, head cleaved repeatedly, slumped on a velvet couch. A gray-haired matron equally hacked, dead by a bed.

Satisfaction.
The bitch had it coming
.

“Radiance!” Luca shook my shoulders, prying the axe from my fingers.

“Enough of this,” Julian demanded. “She is too sensitive.”

Tiny bee-sting shocks twitched my fingers. “That was disturbing. But you know what? I’m okay.” The awful ditty,
Lizzie Borden took an axe
, ran through my head. “This is nothing like I felt with Reg.”

“I have a theory.” Luca put the hatchet back in the box. “All of the objects have a violent history, none of which was directed at you personally. Your cousin bears you malice. He clearly wishes you harm. He doesn’t know about your power or the legacy. If he did, he’d be dead already.”

The menace in Luca’s voice made my neck hairs stand on end. Even though he’d agreed not to beat Reg into a bloody pulp, I knew the deal was tenuous.

Julian nodded grimly. “I would see him dead as well.”

“Enough, gentlemen. All this talk of murder is not cool.” And while I didn’t want Reg to hurt me anymore, I wasn’t a cold-blooded killer either. “He’s only thought bad things about me. He hasn’t acted on any of them.” And I’d had no further communication with him since the “incident” either. Of course, I’d sent a note thanking him for his gift, as was proper, and so he wouldn’t feel slighted. The last thing I needed was to provide more excuses for him to hate me.

“Yet,” Luca ground out. “I will not suffer him to live if he harms you again in any way.”

My heart did a little pitter-patter and my body went all warm and needy. Then I snapped back to reality. Weeks had passed and I wasn’t any closer to understanding the erotic heat between us. “You don’t own me, Luca. I’m not your anything.”

He stalked up to me, cornering me against the nearest couch arm. “That is where you are wrong. I told you before. I am meant to protect you. We are bound together.”

Warmth seeped into my pores. Every nerve ending in my body did a happy dance for him. I pretended not to feel it.

A knowing smile twitched his lips. “Deny it all you want, my sweet.”

His low, husky voice sent a jolt of desire right between my thighs.

“Look at the time.” I shimmied away. “I’ve got practice tonight.”

“Practice for what?” Luca called after me.

Pretending not to hear, I scooped up my skates and gym bag, which I’d had the foresight to deposit by the library door beforehand, and raced down the stairs. Mr. Meadows, Ashworth Mansion’s chief butler, ensured my car was parked outside the front door ready for me, engine running. In situations where a quick getaway was warranted, having staff was advantageous.

In the end, it didn’t matter how fast I drove, Luca teleported into the passenger seat.

“Where are we going?” he asked, buckling his seatbelt.

When I glared at him, he said with mock innocence, “What? I’ve seen you drive.”

I ground my teeth. I wasn’t dignifying that with an answer. “
I
am going to derby practice. New season starts in a few weeks. And I’m not missing it.” I circled out of the driveway, then punched the engine.

Luca’s brows furrowed. “You race horses?”

At the main gate, I revved it past the parasitic photographers hanging around. “No. Roller derby. You know, roller skating?”

“No shit? I didn’t think anyone did that anymore.”

“Tells you what you know. Not much!” I teased. “It’s fun. I started a few years ago.”

“You will have to stop. It is too dangerous.”

“Fuck no.”

He sighed, no doubt exasperated. “You still don’t understand. What if you have to do a capture in the middle of a match?”

“Bout, not match,” I automatically corrected. “Why are you such a killjoy? Don’t I get nights off once in a while?”

“No.” Luca gripped the dashboard. “Please let go of your mortal pursuits.”

Tough noogies. I wasn’t giving up every part of my life. “You don’t understand how hard I’ve worked to have a normal life. On the team, no one cares about my past. Some of them, believe it or not, don’t even know who I am.”

“Yes. You were a naughty young thing, weren’t you?” he purred.

Damn. I hoped he hadn’t seen the infamous sex tape.

“Please. I’m trying to forget.” All those nights clubbing. The drinking, the drugs. The unprotected sex. It was a miracle I didn’t end up pregnant, diseased, or dead. “Aw, shit. The legacy. It protected me.”

“Yes,” Luca ground out as I swerved around a sharp corner at top speed.

“You can’t protect me from everything, you know?” I joked. As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them.

A low growl vibrated in his throat.

“I’m sorry, Luca. I didn’t mean to imply you aren’t up for the task. I know I’m a giant pain in the ass.” I reached over and touched his arm. Muscles, tense like cord wood, relaxed. Not a single vibe or image came from him. He was like a blank slate. It was wonderful.

“Do not apologize. I don’t like the thought of anyone harming you.” His soft lips tenderly raked across my knuckles.

Arousal spiked into me. I could turn the car around and . . . what? Seduce him? As tempting as that was, I needed to keep some small semblance of normalcy in my life.

We arrived at the neighborhood sports center where the team practiced and all our home game bouts took place.

“You don’t have to come in.” I didn’t want to put up with the inevitable questions and the teasing comments. Not to mention, his proximity would be a total distraction.

“Why not?” he asked with a lopsided grin. “Embarrassed by me?”

“Yes. Look how you’re dressed.”

He looked damn hot, but a slacks and a designer button-down shirt were a bit overdressed for the roller derby crowd.

“No problem.” He snapped his fingers and his clothes changed. In place of the formal duds, he sported jeans, a battered leather jacket, biker boots, and a dark T-shirt.

My jaw hung open. “What the hell? Are you a wizard now, too?”

“No. It’s part of my personal magic.”

I leaned forward and stared into his face. All these weeks together and clearly I didn’t know shit about him. “What are you anyway?”

He opened his mouth to answer. Then I caught a glimpse of his shirt.

“Tell me you’re
not
wearing that T-shirt.”

“Whatever do you mean?” He shrugged, then motioned to the logo.—
Humans: the Other White Meat
. “It’s funny.”

“You can’t wear that in public!”

“Why ever not? You complained that my Armani is not appropriate.”

“You know why not.” Because it was too close to the truth for my liking. “Change it or I’ll shave off your eyebrows in your sleep.”

Luca’s eyes narrowed. “As you wish. Your lame threat doesn’t impress me. But, do keep in mind that if I catch you in my bedroom, you’ll find me very much awake and not in the mood for pranks.”

Oh. Man. He turned me on. I already knew what kind of feast for the eyes he was since I’d seen him half-dressed in my kitchen. The thought of how the rest of him looked set my skin ablaze. And the memory of his long tapered fingers and those strong capable hands as they soothed my pain sent shudders through me especially when I imagined what they could do for pleasure.

Laughter peeled across the parking lot. Car doors slammed.

Right. Back to reality. “Forget it. Just try not to freak anyone out.”

“I do know how to behave around humans.” He gave me a broad reassuring grin, then slid his glasses on.

“Do you have to wear those?”

He stiffened. “Why? Do they offend you?”

“No.” I touched the top of his hand. “I like to look at your eyes.”

The smile returned. Only this time, more wolf-like. “I will keep them off then. If we get called, they have to go back on.”

“Of course. No scaring the masses.”

“Exactly.” He leaned forward and cupped my face in his hands. “I am happy to please you.”

Jesus. Mary. And Josephine. Every part of me throbbed with need. Every stitch of clothing rubbed my body the wrong way, in an ever-tightening circle of desire.

He rubbed his thumb across my lips. “I know you want me.”

Damn skippy I did. Panic surged through me. I fumbled for the car door latch and pushed the door open. “I’m sorry, Luca.” Really,
really
sorry.

He gave me a knowing smile. “Later then.”

Nerves jangled, I headed toward the back entrance. “I’ll see you by the rink. Oh. And Luca. People are going to hit me. That’s part of the game. Don’t kill them.”

He winked at me. “Got it,
annywl
. No worries.”

I spun around and faced him. “You better not have called me something nasty. What is that language anyway?”

He chuckled, then touched the tip of my nose. “I would never call you something nasty. It means ‘dear’ in Welsh.”

“You speak Welsh?”

“I should hope so. I grew up in Wales.”

Before I could pepper him with a million questions, my teammates swept me into the locker room. Over their heads, I saw Luca standing in the parking lot, watching me.

“Fess up, Radiance! Who is that beautiful piece of eye candy?”

“Yeah. Where have you been keeping him?”

I inwardly cringed knowing that variations of this question would be asked all during practice. The Broken Cherries were a kickass derby team, but they were also tenacious when it came to ferreting out love life details. Since I hadn’t had a social life to speak of for the last few years, I was ripe for the picking.

The unexpected upside of Luca’s appearance: no one asked me about being named the Ashworth heir. Granted a few weeks had passed since the announcement, but the media hadn’t tired of the story so I appeared in the headlines with alarming frequency. I failed to understand what so was fascinating about me. I never did anything interesting at all, at least not in a dimension they could witness. Unless they thought watching cars pass through the estate’s gates was exciting.

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