Wicked Bad (Wicked 3 2)

Harrison patted her cheeks, her smile falsely bright as she opened the door. “No. Thanks, but I’ve got this one.”

She carried the plates to the uptight, if handsome, man, but her mind was on other things. Maybe she should call Conway. Check on things, just in case. Lorie had sounded anxious. She supposed they all were, wondering where she was. Just one phone call, to make sure everyone was all right.

“Are you going to stand there all day, or were you planning on giving me my food?”

Harrison narrowed her eyes, her expression sharpening at his rudeness. A sudden image of her using magic to turn him into a small, furry rodent came to mind, but she dismissed it. “I’m sorry, sir.” She set the plate on the table more firmly than usual. “Enjoy your meal.”

She turned to go, but he grabbed her sleeve. She could tell he had to work to soften his expression, though he seemed to be avoiding actually touching her. As if she were somehow distasteful. What a jerk. She was about to dump his meatloaf in his lap and send him on his way. His next words stopped her.

“I am the one who needs to apologize, Jane. May I call you Jane? I’m a jackass at the best of times, but today I received some difficult news. It was a bitter pill to swallow. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

His voice, so like the one from her fantasies, lulled her. She understood rough days. She’d had a few herself. Her smile returned. “Everybody gets a turn, sir. We’re only human, right?”

Something flickered in his mud brown eyes before he nodded. “Yes. Only human. Thank you for being so gracious.”

She nodded and gently extricated her arm from his grasp. Her skin was still tingling as she fled behind the relative safety of the counter and the faces of her more familiar regulars. She really needed to get out more if that stiff was turning her on. She’d talk to Melissa about it tomorrow.

“Miss Jane, I wish you’d let me walk you home.” Gary, the sweet, freckle-faced chef was blushing to the roots of his short ginger hair, and it made Harrison smile. Every night that she closed with him he offered, and every night she turned him down. She didn’t think he’d get the wrong idea, he was far too gentlemanly for that, but she liked being on her own. After a lifetime of smothering, it was a nice change.

“My place is only a few blocks away. I’ll be fine. See you tomorrow afternoon, Gary.”

Harrison tugged on the collar of her thin coat, pulling it closer around her neck as a breeze stirred the leaves on the sidewalk. She loved this town. It was so young and busy and alive. She snorted. She’d run away from home, but not that far. The Charles River was all that separated her from her family. In fact, she hadn’t really left at all. Though they were everywhere, Massachusetts was a Magian hotbed, with the largest population of witches in the United States. But she couldn’t make herself leave. It was her home.

Maybe she wasn’t as brave as she’d thought.

She heard footsteps behind her, felt a frosty breeze cling to her legs beneath the pink and blue skirt of her uniform. It was probably Gary. That uptight customer had slowly eaten his dinner, slowly eaten his dessert, then stayed for two more hours nursing his coffee, all the while watching Harrison work. Gary had asked her if she’d like him removed, but she’d declined. He was harmless, rudeness and all. Something inside told her to leave him alone. To let him stay.

She looked over her shoulder to reassure Gary she was fine, but he wasn’t there. No one was.

Only she knew with a bone deep certainty that she was being watched.

All her senses went on high alert. She, more than anyone, knew there were more things going on in this world than could be seen with the naked eye. Hadn’t she used a cloaking spell on countless occasions, as thoughtlessly as a woman wore a scarf, to watch others unseen?

But if something magical was watching her, wondering about her, the last thing she wanted to do was give herself away. The potion still protected her. And she knew it was a good one. A Magian, or any other magical creature who reached out with their senses should believe she was human.

“Weird. I could’ve sworn I heard footsteps.” The words were for the watcher. She bit her lip, pretending to look around for a heartbeat longer. She turned, clutched her purse closer to her chest and walked swiftly toward the brownstone apartment where she’d been staying, for all appearances a single woman nervous to be walking home alone.

She wasn’t entirely faking her apprehension. She couldn’t use magic. She’d repressed it. It was part of the spell. If this wasn’t a Magian detective sent by her family, and the creeping sensation along her spine told her it wasn’t, then getting to the warm, well-lit brick building full of people within shouting distance would be a smart move.

“Cold hearted. I’ll show you cold hearted.”

The whispered words whipped her around once more, and still she saw nothing. But she’d heard it. And it was followed by a chill that was unusual for this time of year. A bone deep chill…and a crackling sound. She looked at the old-fashioned lamppost she’d just passed, and her eyes widened.

It was freezing in front of her eyes. Crystals of ice rising from the base to the globe encased light like a living thing. Devouring all the heat until there was nothing left but ice.

She took a step back and looked down. It was spreading. A crystalline tendril from the lamp, traveling along the seams of the sidewalk, killing the small weeds and making the concrete smooth as glass as it slithered in her direction. “What the hell?”

Who the hell? The Proxenos who’d been attacking people at Triune had been caught. And no one knew who or where she was. But she could no longer doubt this person had more than unseen observation in mind. They were after her.

And they had power.

She heard the ferocious bark of a dog over her pounding heart, and dropped her purse in shock as the large mop of hair and teeth jumped in front of her, growling at the darkness beyond.

“Where did you come from?” Animals had heightened senses, she knew. They could often see things even young Magians couldn’t. Maybe it could see what was there, taunting her in the darkness. Threatening her. But there was no way an ordinary dog could protect her from this kind of magic. It would only get itself killed. “Get out of here, dog. Shoo, go on now.”

She bent to grab her purse, patting her thigh to get its attention as she turned to race down the street. Only she wasn’t going anywhere. The ice had encircled her while she’d been distracted. She and the innocent animal were both in danger. She could see her breath, feeling an icy weight pressing into her, stronger and heavier with each beat of her heart until she was knocked to her knees.

The dog continued its frenzied yowl as Harrison gasped for each lungful of air. The cold was sucking the life out of her. The creature that was doing this obviously didn’t want her alive. Why? Was this what Lorie had been trying to warn her about in the mirror? She might never get the chance to ask him.