Wicked Wings Read online

  As his mother strode back to her car, he rose and helped me up. Then he swung me fully into his arms and carried me to his truck, placing me carefully in the passenger seat and then grabbing a blanket from the back and tucking it around me. It went some way to warming my legs and feet. My shoes, I noted sadly, were not only wet and muddy, but were now missing several sparkly stones. A bin rather than my wardrobe was their next resting place.

  Aiden jumped into the driver seat and started her up. “I take it you’re heading back home rather than coming to my place now?”

  I smiled, but it was filled with the weariness that beat through me. “Yeah. I’m sorry, but I’m just—”

  “Bone tired, and perhaps more than a little sick of the whole O’Connor pack right now.”

  “Well, not the whole pack.”

  “I’ll be having words with my mother—”

  “Don’t—not for me. It’s not worth stirring up bad feelings for a relationship that has a limited time frame.”

  He was silent for too many seconds, and though his expression gave nothing away, his grip on the steering wheel seemed that little bit tighter. “What did Katie’s warning to me mean?”

  “You know exactly what she meant.”

  “Well, she obviously meant Mia, but she isn’t exactly haunting me.”

  “Isn’t she?” I said softly. “From what I can gather, you’ve avoided a long-term relationship with another wolf ever since.”

  He glanced at me, expression annoyed. “I haven’t avoided them. I just haven’t found anyone—”

  “Who lived up to her standard.”

  His responding snort was a somewhat bitter sound. “And thank God for that, given she was a liar and a cheat.”

  And one who still held his heart. “Perhaps Katie simply meant it’s time you stop hanging on to whatever feelings you have for her—be they anger, hurt, or something else—and start looking for the wolf who will be your future.”

  “I haven’t finished with the present, thank you very much.”

  “And I, for one, am very happy to hear that.” I hesitated. “I doubt your mother will be, though.”

  “My mother needs to stick her nose—”

  “She’s your mom,” I reminded him gently. “Nose sticking comes with the territory.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Speaking from experience?”

  I laughed again, though it was a somewhat harsh sound. “Only from watching the interaction of my parents with my siblings. Mom no doubt loved me, but I was never her shining light, and I was always aware of it. I never had the same sort of interaction with her as my brother and sister.”

  “I never knew you had a brother.”

  I nodded. “His name is Julius, and he became the family’s shining light after my sister was murdered. And from what Monty has said, he’s done them proud by marrying into another powerful family and presenting them with four grandkids.”

  “Four? How much older is he than you?”

  “Not that much. They had two sets of twins, apparently.”

  “Do they run in the family?”

  “Yes, although my parents weren’t blessed.”

  He glanced at me. “Why would twins be considered a blessing? I’d have thought multiple births would mean any witch power would be split between them, and given how your parents reacted to you…”

  He let the sentence fade, and I grimaced. “You’d think so, but apparently the opposite often happens, for some weird reason. It’s why many lesser witch lines marry into families with a history of multiple births—they hope that, through them, they may improve their standing.”

  He snorted. “Which is really no different to what Mia’s pack was attempting.”

  “It’s a whole lot different, Aiden. For a start, there’s no deceit or lies.” There couldn’t be when all the witch lines, royal or not, were carefully catalogued to inhibit any chance of inbreeding—as there had been, back in the darker ages. “But I have no doubt Juli’s children will make advantageous marriages when they’re old enough and further cement the hold on power my family has up there.”

  “That’s still treating your kids as an asset, and I can’t abide that.”

  “Neither can I, but not all witches can marry for love, Aiden. Not when there are only six bloodlines.”

  “A strange statement, considering what happened to you.”

  I shrugged. “My situation isn’t common—”

  “It seriously wouldn’t want to be, given forced marriages are against the law.”

  Only if those doing the forcing are caught. There’d never been much hope of that happening in my case—not when my father and Clayton were so well respected in Canberra. I swallowed the bitterness that rose in my throat and tried not to think about what I’d do—how I’d react—when they finally caught up with us. Because they would, and sooner rather than later. I shivered.

  Aiden immediately switched up the heating. “Did your sister make such a marriage before she was murdered?”

  I nodded and rubbed my arms. My sister’s killer had never been caught, and most believed his soul had been claimed by the dark entities he’d dealt with. And yet, for some reason, the prophetic part of me thought otherwise—though, as often was the case with such things, it gave no reason why.

  “She was engaged, and while it was an advantageous match, she also loved him.”

  Not that it would have mattered if she hadn’t. Cat had always been determined to get a firm hold on the wheels of power—something she’d been well on the way to doing when she’d been the first nineteen-year-old to ever be named successor to a seat on the high council. I presumed that position had instead gone to Juli, as my father certainly wouldn’t ever consider me an option.

  Aiden didn’t comment, and for that I was grateful. I wanted to speak about my family about as much as he wanted to speak about his. In that, we were well matched.

  He pulled to a halt in front of the café, then jumped out and ran around to open my door. Once I’d shed his blanket, he helped me down, but he didn’t immediately release me. Instead, he wrapped his arms tightly around my body and kissed me with so much passion and heat that my pulse raced, my body ached, and my heart just about shattered. Rain dripped onto my head and dribbled down my neck, but it didn’t matter. Nothing did. Nothing except this man and this kiss and the time we still had together.

  I had a long habit of falling for inappropriate men, and history was definitely repeating itself here, but at least this time I’d gone into our relationship with my eyes wide open. As much as my heart might hanker for more, that could never be our fate. I simply had to settle for what I had and enjoy it while I could.

  He broke off with a soft groan and then stepped back. “Are you sure you won’t consider coming back with me? I can google the recipe for a hot toddy easily enough.”

  I hesitated and then shook my head. “While I’d like nothing more, I’m dead on my feet, Aiden. Can we make it tomorrow night?”

  “Of course we can.” He brushed his fingers down my cheek, then swung around and offered me his arm. “The least I can do is ensure you get to the front door without being attacked by flesh strippers or White Ladies.”

  I smiled and slipped my arm through his. “Let’s hope both are silent tonight. I need the rest.”

  “Amen to that.”

  I dug my keys out of my bag; he took them from me and opened the door. I kissed him goodbye, and it once again turned into something hot and heavy. Perhaps Katie’s words had impacted more than I’d suspected, even if he’d rather live for the moment than worry about the future.

  He groaned again and pulled away. “You’d better get inside before I’m tempted to do something that’ll get me arrested.”

  “You’re the head ranger—no one would be game enough to arrest you.”

  “Maybe not, but report me for inappropriate actions? Hell yeah. I’ve been in the job long enough to have made a few enemies, and they’d love nothing more than to see me gone.”
He brushed his fingers across my lips, creating trailing spots of heat that had my insides quivering. “Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I kissed his fingertips, resisted the urge to do more, and then stepped inside. He spun on a heel and walked quickly away. I watched until he’d climbed into his truck and then closed the door and wearily climbed the stairs to our apartment.

  Once I’d kicked off my shoes and dumped them in the nearest waste bin, I ran a bath, tossed in a mix of lavender, bergamot, and chamomile bath salts, then made a hot toddy to help warm the chill within. The combination of both did at least go some way to easing the fatigue.

  Belle returned home just as the bathwater was beginning to cool. “Hey, I thought you were spending the night at Aiden’s?”

  “I was, but the glow of expectation was somewhat diminished when the surprise date turned out to be a meeting with his mother.”

  “Who obviously wasn’t happy about your position in Aiden’s life and who told you so in no uncertain terms.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “What was Aiden’s response?”

  “That his relationships are none of her business.”

  “Then you’ve nothing to worry about.” Her gaze narrowed. “But you’re not actually worrying about that, are you?”

  “No.” I told her what Katie had said. “I’ve always known it would end, but having her basically tell him to look to the future was something of a kick.”

  “Did she give any indication whether said future love was days, weeks, or months away?”

  “Well, no—”

  “Then stop worrying about it. Just enjoy being with the man while you can.”

  “Oh, I intend to. I’m just wallowing in a moment of self-pity.”

  “Will another drink help with the wallowing?”

  I grinned and held up my empty glass. “Another drink never goes astray.”

  She plucked the glass from my hand and headed out. I climbed out of the bath and, once I was dry, grabbed my robe and followed her into the small kitchen. “How was the date with Kash?”

  “Disappointing.” Her tone was gloomy. “He’s totally focused on transcribing the damn books. I think I could have run around naked and shaken my maracas in front of his nose and he still wouldn’t have noticed.”

  “The man’s insane. Your maracas are magnificent.”

  “I know, right?” She handed me my glass, then took a drink from her own. “I’ve come to the conclusion he’s simply more interested in the books than me.”

  “He definitely needs his head read.”

  “Yeah. I might stop going over there for a few days, just to see if he starts thinking with the little head again.” Her gaze was troubled. “In truth, his interest in the books is getting a little too intent for my liking.”

  I frowned. Kash wasn’t a witch, but that didn’t mean there couldn’t be a nefarious reason for his sudden interest. History was, after all, littered with the burned remnants of those without magical nous attempting witchcraft. “Do you think he might be tempted to use or sell the information?”

  She hesitated. “Even if he was, I’ve now placed a block to prevent him either using the books or contacting anyone about them.”

  “What books have you been giving him?”

  “A few of her earlier spell books, but mostly her notes on supernatural beings. I thought—given what’s been happening here—they were probably the most urgent.”

  “At least it’s nothing major.” I accepted my drink with a nod of thanks. “But if you’re uneasy, then I think we need to find another means of transcribing the books.”

  “I agree. But rather than finding someone new, what if I investigated a means of doing it ourselves?”

  “Wouldn’t that be expensive?” The café was now making a little profit, but we still had to be careful, given our savings balance remained on the low side of things.

  “If we got a system like his, yes, but we could buy a much simpler book scanner for under a thousand.” She hesitated. “Of course, we’d also need another computer, given ours is devoted to ordering and wages. That’ll add to the cost.”

  “It could still be a worthwhile investment, given just how rare your gran’s books are.”

  “True. I’ll do some more investigating.”

  “And Kash?”

  She shrugged. “If he can’t get his shit together, he’s out the door. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”

  “And one of them is named Monty—”

  She swiped at me, and I jumped back with a laugh. “Do not mention his name and sex in the same sentence. Seriously, are you trying to give me nightmares?”

  I grinned. “Hey, his physical prowess might be even better than his magic.”

  “I do not want to think about that. Ever.” She downed her drink in several gulps. “I’m off for a shower—are you staying up?”

  I shook my head. “I’m heading over to Aiden’s tomorrow night, so I’d best get an early night.”

  “At least one of us is getting some action,” she replied gloomily.

  “Hey, plenty of fish, remember?” I tossed back the rest of my drink. The heated whiskey burned all the way down to my belly and sent a warm glow humming through the rest of me.

  “Yes, but it would be nice to have a relationship that lasts more than a few weeks.”

  “Well, there’s always—” I broke the sentence off with a yelp as she lunged for me, and then ran for my bedroom, laughing all the way.

  “Your next revival potion is going to be revolting!” she called after me.

  Which only made me laugh harder.

  I stripped off my dressing gown, climbed into bed, and was quickly asleep. Unfortunately, it was a state that didn’t last.

  I wasn’t entirely sure what woke me. The night was quiet, and the gentle pulse of the spells surrounding the building gave no indication that they were, in any way, being probed, let alone under attack. But I was lying in an almost fetal position, my legs tucked up near my chest and the top sheet loosely covering my head—something I used to do as a kid when prophetic dreams were distantly whispering and I had no desire to listen.

  And yet it wasn’t a dream that had woken me. It was more a presence—an awareness that something was out there, watching and waiting.

  I opened my eyes. With the sheet over my head, I couldn’t see anything, but I doubted there was actually anything to see. Not here in the bedroom, anyway.

  I reached for my phone on the side table. It was twelve-thirty, which was smack bang in the middle of witching hour, a time when those who haunted the spectral edge of the world gained substance and reality. In truth, it wasn’t so much the time that was important, but rather the position and strength of the moon. A full moon held far more power than a waxing or waning one, but in either case, midnight was when she reached her highest point in the sky and was therefore at her most powerful.

  So, had some sort of supernatural activity woken me, or was something stranger going on? I suspected the latter, if only because of the continuing sensation of being watched.

  And given there was no one and nothing in my room, that really didn’t make much sense.

  I silently cursed my psychic senses for not giving me the damn night off and climbed out of bed. After hastily pulling on jeans and a sweater, I headed out into the hallway, briefly looking right and left to pin down the odd sensation before striding through the living area and onto the balcony. The drizzle had finally eased, but an icy wind now whistled across the night, bringing with it the distant promise of more rain. I crossed my arms against the cold and stalked across to the railing. The street below was silent and empty. Nothing stirred, not even fragile wisps of wild magic.

  Then a small movement caught my eye and I saw her—the White Lady. She stood near the corner where I’d caught my first true glimpse of her, and this time, she wasn’t walking away. Instead, she stood her ground and motioned me down.

  I remained exactly where I was. K
atie might have told me to speak to her, but I couldn’t do so without Belle being present, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to put either of our lives in danger without first taking some precautions.

  “I can’t speak to you.” It was softly said, but I had no doubt she’d hear me despite the half block distance between us. “That’s not my talent. If there’s something you want of me, then you need to relay it through my friend.”

  Her ghostly form shimmered, as if in agitation. After a moment, she nodded—a short, sharp movement that had the gossamer strands of her hair streaming behind her like long clouds.

  “We’ll also be well protected,” I continued. “If you, in any way, try to harm either of us, we’ll force you on and end any hope of you attaining the revenge you seek.”

  Again her form shimmered, though this time I suspected it was anger. Her second sharp nod didn’t ease the tension within; in fact, it had the opposite effect. Given she was of magic, it was totally possible that—even in ghostly form—she was more powerful than either of us.

  “Who the hell are you talking to?”

  Belle’s sudden question made me jump. I’d been so focused on the specter that I hadn’t heard the door open. “Our White Lady. She wants to speak to us.”

  Belle stopped beside me and stared down the street. “She was definitely a powerful witch in her time—even from here, I can feel the thrum of her power. I’m not entirely sure speaking to her is the wisest course of action.”

  Spirits were Belle’s domain, not mine, and I had no intention of gainsaying any decision she made when it came to dealing with them. “You think she’s playing us?”

  Belle hesitated, her gaze narrowing as she studied the ghostly figure in the distance. “I see no lie in her but there’s a whole lot of rage, and I really don’t like the feel of it. It could be covering a darker intent.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  She glanced at me. “I do have one suggestion, but neither you nor she might like it.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “And that suggestion is?”

  “We invite her in.”

  “Into the reading room?”