Three Hot Wishes (Fantasy Come to Life - Magic in the Real World Novel) (8 page)

Chapter 15

The laptop's monitor burned my retinas with the fury of a thousand suns. My fingertips on the keyboard buzzed. I could feel the electricity flowing through it, flowing through me, making the letters I was touching and the words I needed to make one and the same.

A whiff of wood smoke brushed past me, and then a cold wind swirled in from outside of the cave for a moment, kissing my sweat-slick brow before being chased away once more by the heat of the fire.

I was a force. I could make something from nothing. Behind me I felt the greater heat of Keller's form as he sat on the bed, as stoic as any other immoveable piece of nature, waiting for me to come to terms with who I was and what I had to do.

Turns out, I had to pee... "I'll be right back!" I said, jumping out of my chair and racing into the bathroom, escaping there for the second time today.

"Nature calls," he said, and I couldn't help but smile at his little pun as I closed the door and did my business. It was cooler in here, but that didn't mean that my vision was any farther away than it had been a moment before.

At least I didn't feel pressured by Keller. Logan had made it abundantly clear when my purpose in his life was and, even though I found the thought of sex with him appealing, I knew that there was every chance that I'd have been nothing more than one more notch on his bed stand. I had something he wanted, and he was willing to spend his time and money on me until I'd agreed to give it to him.

But Keller... Well, Keller was different. If the last book had been about the woman being the pawn, a little innocent piece on a game board that wasn't entirely aware of her role, then things had changed a lot this time around.

Keller had such a naive, truly honest way about him. He'd call a spade a spade, but he'd die for his beliefs and he'd never retreat or surrender.

He was almost
too
good...

And that was the thing, wasn't it? Logan hadn't cared at all that I wasn't Emma. To him, it didn't matter. He wanted what I had, and I could call myself by whatever name I needed to, so long as I gave in to him in the end.

Keller hadn't asked my name, and I got the feeling that it wasn't because he didn't want to know it. No, it was almost as if...

It was almost as if whoever I was, I was the right one
.

There it was, like a bolt from Heaven. The Bear Shifter was too pure, too virtuous to believe that the woman in front of him could be anyone other than the person he was supposed to be with. I mean there he was, out of place in Southern California, sitting on a bed for probably one of the first times in his life.

Did he ask questions? Did he complain about his surroundings? No. He trusted in me, and instead spent his time preparing himself to follow whatever vision he thought I was about to have. Loving him would be easy, if it were me he was meant to love.

But it wasn't.

He was meant for Lacey. I'd crafted him for her, and her for him. To step into her role for however short a time was to make of their love something obscene. It would be like tricking a trusting child, and the stink of that betrayal would haunt me for the rest of my life. Maybe Keller didn't truly exist, but even a figment of my imagination didn't deserve to fall in love under false pretenses, and pretending that he was right for me was about as false as I could imagine.

"Keller?" I called as I left the bathroom.

"Yes?"

"Just making sure you're still here," I said lamely. I'd more than half expected for him to vanish from my life the same way Logan had, once I had my revelation about how our lives wouldn't interweave. It hadn't happened though, and I was glad of that. He deserved better than simply winking out of existence like that, with no explanation.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

I came around the corner and sat next to him on the bed, taking his big hands into my own. They were rough too, and I wondered if in the back of my hands I had a thing for guys with callouses.
Not a lot of romances about accountants you know, Beth,
I reminded myself.

"Keller," I said, "I've had a vision."

His bright blue eyes lit up, and for a moment he was so ruggedly handsome that my heartstrings tried to rally together and tug me in the other direction, away from the decision I'd already made.

I dug my heels in and pressed on. "You may not like it, though."

He made a face that said it wasn't his job to judge me or my visions, and I smiled. "Go on," he said.

"You need to return to your cave. The woman you're waiting for isn't me, but I can show her how to find you. I'm her guide," I said, realizing that the words couldn't have been truer if I'd tried. "It's my job to show her the way to you through the frost, to light her path with the Northern Lights above and the crunch of fresh snowfall on the ground. I need you to go back there and make her feel safe when she arrives, because you aren't the end of her journey. Once she makes it to you, you'll both find that the thing you seek can only be found in the company of the other."

I waited, holding my breath, hoping he wouldn't argue or ask questions. It had been hard enough to push him away like this. If he wanted to know why, if he tried to use logic against that which wasn't governed by the rules of the mind, I didn't know what I'd tell him.

Worse, I could already feel my resolve crumbling. If he asked to stay by my side, there was every chance I'd give in and let him. It wouldn't be the right thing to do, but it would feel so good
right now
that I may just falter and let it happen.

"I understand," he said at last, leaning in to wrap his great big arms around me and pull me to his barrel chest. There was a strength about him that made my eyes water, and the safety I felt in his embrace was something I feared I'd never feel so close to again. "Thank you for showing me the way."

I nodded, hugging him back and then looking up at him when he let go and stood up.

"One more thing," he said. I could hear the winds of the North coming for him, and somewhere in the darkness one wolf howled to another, a lonely song that made my heart skip a beat in empathy.

"Anything," I answered.

"When you show her the way, take care of her for me. I know she'll arrive beaten and broken, but leave me enough to put her together stronger than she was. I think she and I will both need her strength, and if you rob her of it, all will be lost."

"Of course," I said, giving him a wink. "I know how to craft a good story. Now get going."

The wind swept in, the snow swirled, and even as it melted he was already gone.

Chapter 16

I sat there on the edge of the bed for a while. Part of me wanted me to go to the laptop and start the story of Keller and Lacey. I'd spoken of Northern Lights, and I liked that as a name. I wanted to build their world, to push through to the part where she found him and he found her, if only to fulfill my promise to Keller.

"Not yet," I said out loud. There was no way I was going to forget the world I'd built in my mind for them, and first I needed to speak to someone.

But who? Did I have anyone in my life who would understand any of this?

Grace, perhaps. She'd been writing for twice as long as I'd been alive, if I believed her stories. If any of my author friends had gone through something similar, it would be her.

It wasn't a bad idea, I supposed, but it wasn't a great one either. Odds were that she'd be as clueless as anyone, and once I explained enough to
really
ask her if she'd had characters leap out of works in progress and come storming into her house, I'd be in too deep to play it off as a joke. Worse, she'd think that the drinking she was always half-teasing half-scolding me for had finally pickled my brain.

And there was every chance she was right.

David? Maybe. I
did
want to thank him for helping me out with the whole Logan Mercado situation earlier, even if I couldn't do it in so many words. I was worried that he'd only think I was calling about my advance though, and knowing me I'd make a mess of the conversation anyway. If there was a person on the planet that could turn a thank you into a perceived demand for more money or a nullified contract, there was no doubt it was me.

I sighed. The life of a hermit author had never really bothered me before, primarily because whenever I felt cooped up I simply hopped into the car and piled on the credit card debt at the mall until the feeling passed. It was only now, when I was truly looking for someone to confide in that I saw how devoid of meaningful relationships I really was.

My Dad was gone. Not dead, just gone. I hadn't heard from him, though the pen name at least stopped my Facebook feed from clogging up with old friends and long lost relatives messaging me for a piece of the pie. Mom was doing okay out in Boston, living the life of the newly retired, spending time with her 'man friend', a term that made me cringe every time she said it, and volunteering at the Salvation Army. She called me every Sunday, rain or shine, primarily to ask why
I
wasn't
also
volunteering at Salvation Army or spending time with a man friend of my own.

No help there.

And then it hit me.

Gina!

Of course! She'd been the start of all of this, her and her seemingly genius ideas for simple, run of the mill romances that I could right without having to waste too much of my brain thinking about. She'd been the one who had set me on this path, and I'd be damned if I wasn't going to call her out on it!

I fished through my purse for the notepad again. I knew she'd written down her phone number or address or something on it, and when I couldn't find the paper I dumped the purse out onto the bed, sifting through the crap I carried around everywhere for some reason with increasing frustration. It had to be here somewhere. It couldn't just...

Disappear
? that voice in my head said, completing the thought for me.
Why yes, it would be strange if a piece of paper could just up and vanish. It'd be almost as odd as it happening to, oh I don't know, let's say a billionaire playboy or a sexy Bear Shifter?

Sometimes I hated that voice... It was right far too often for my liking.

"Aha!" I shouted, snatching the notepad up from where the universe had made it fall face down, right on the edge of the bed and just about ready to slide between the mattress and the headboard, never to be seen again by mere mortals.

Dreading that I'd find the paper blank, I was relieved to see that she had indeed left her phone number on it. Even better, my makeup hadn't somehow leaked and ruined it, and the writing was legible.

I dialed the number as fast as I could, a woman possessing a question that only Gina Huxley could answer.

It rang and rang, and eventually I heard the mechanical click that comes before the recording that tells you 'This is me, I'm doing something else, leave a message and I'll do my best to ignore you'.

"The number you have dialed has been disconnected. Please hang up or try again," an unsympathetic woman's voice said into my ear.

Right. Of course. I tried again, punching in the number from scratch.

"The number you have dialed has been-"

I hung up. Gina had either written her number down wrong or, far more likely, she'd given me a fake one.

She was at the heart of this. I knew it for a fact. I'd walked into the Sands cafe with nothing; no ideas, no hope, nothing but a desire to bitch and moan to the Smut Slingers about the terrible life I had.

And I walked out with the power to make my characters come to life.

I set the phone down, not knowing who else to call.

Well, that wasn't exactly the truth of the matter. I wanted to call David. He always seemed to know the right thing to say, even if it wasn't what I wanted to hear.

Especially
if it wasn't what I wanted to hear.

But I still felt like he had a crush on me, and the last thing I wanted to do was reach out to him and have it misinterpreted.

It wasn't his fault that he and I never seemed to click. He wasn't what I was looking for and I wasn't who he thought I was. It was a recipe for disaster, and I didn't want to drag either one of us through that sort of thing if I could help it.

Which left me with Grace. I sat down at the laptop and sent her an email.

Got some time to talk?

Grace was too old school to have a mobile phone, but she practically lived in front of her computer.

Sure enough, I got a response less than sixty seconds later.

Sorry... Headed out for a bit, honey. I think I know what you want to talk about, though. Why don't you kids ever listen to me when I tell you never to read the reviews? Those forums are nothing more than worthless pits of anonymous hate, and no good ever came from visiting them!

My heart sank. I knew right away that she was talking about Good Reads. I avoided the site like the plague, but if there was a big enough storm on there for Grace to know about it, I couldn't help but look.

Especially if it had something to do with my books.