Wicked Bad (Wicked 3 2)

“Pitied me?” Her chuckle was bitter. “The funniest part is, I’ve never understood what it is that makes me so damn special. Because I know more spells? Well that’s thanks to all my teachers who expected me to learn them. Is it because I have no specific power? I’m not a grower or a compeller, not a seer or even a protector like you. If anything, that makes me more oddball than great.”

She shrugged, at a loss. “I love my family, but they don’t understand what it’s like. And Lorie? I envy him. He lives the way he wants, without any expectations. He gets to be a dreamer with his nose eternally in some dusty book. I never had that luxury.”

Her cousin grimaced. “That’s a double-edged sword, Harrison. Out of all of you, Lorie needs the biggest kick in the pants. Waiting for him to wake up so we can find our match is wearing on my patience. He hasn’t returned any of my phone calls in a month. If it didn’t happen on a regular basis, whenever he got lost in his library research, I’d be worried. He’d miss his entire life if given the chance. And our mate could have decided to give up by now.”

The worry on her cousin’s face required a much longer conversation than she had time for. She knew Conway was frustrated. Of course he was. He and Lorie were two thirds of a triad that might never be found. Not unless the perfect woman slipped between the pages of one of Lorie’s books. “But he’d get to, Con. As much as it ticks you off, he still gets a choice. And even if it’s a temporary illusion, I want one too.”

In her bag was everything she’d been gathering for the last year, from recipe books to classified ads. Most importantly, enough potion to last her at least six months. She’d never thought she’d have the guts to actually do it. But after her powerful reaction to those Magians at the club, how intensely she’d been drawn to them despite what they’d said about her, she knew she couldn’t allow them to find her. She wouldn’t.

She turned to Conway. “You know what to do? And Callie’s new to being Magian, but she’s a good compeller already and—”

He held up his hands. “I know, I know. I’ll shi

eld myself around her, and make sure I take a potion or two before she and Tucker give me the third degree. Honestly, I’m more afraid of what Jenner will do to me.”

“Nothing,” Harrison was adamant. And very aware that the housekeeper had returned and was even now downstairs in the kitchen, able to realize they were here at any moment. “She owes me, too, and she knows it. She was a morph and didn’t tell me, she knew Callie was a Magian, and she didn’t tell me. If she wants my trust back, she’ll have to keep my brothers from calling an all out manhunt. And Callie will help them understand.”

A part of her wanted to unpack her bags and be there for Callie when she got back. To celebrate with her and find out about everything that had happened. To tell her best friend all about her own bizarre experience. But her survival instincts had kicked in with a vengeance. This was her window of opportunity. The only chance she might get. If she was going to do this, it had to happen now. While her brothers were distracted, her parents away. While she still had the guts.

Conway cupped her shoulders in his hands, his soft, moss green eyes compassionate. “I’ll be there for you. You have my phone number. If you’re blocked from magic all you have to do is call and I’ll move heaven and earth to get to you.”

She smiled. He’d always been a good friend. “Yes, I have your cell. I also have a pocket full of cash, and finally a little independence…what more could any girl ask for?”

A pair of dark, mysterious eyes sprang to mind, but she instantly pushed the image away.

That snooty fucking Abbott bitch. Isn’t that what the other one, what Ric, had said? Her teeth clenched. They wouldn’t have to worry about her. She was taking a vacation from demanding, self-important male Magians.

Especially ones who so obviously didn’t want her.

Chapter Two

Three months later…

“Order up.”

Harrison grumbled, limping up to the service window to pick up her table’s lunch order. Her shoes were pinching her toes. Again. “I’m exhausted. Why did I take Melissa’s shift again?”

“Because you’re a masochist who needs the money?” Dee, a short, dark-haired waitress with kind eyes and a tired smile leaned against the glass counter, hiding the pies with her curving hips.

Harrison chuckled. “Not this badly. I take comfort in the fact that she actually had plans tonight, where I’d be neck deep in a bubble bath reading. Alone. One of us has to have a life. It may as well be her.”

Dee lifted her leg to rub her swollen ankle, shaking her head. “I don’t agree. Why should she? She’s a peach cobbler short of a dinner special if you know what I mean. I’d appreciate her latest playboy far more than she ever could. Still, she should have a good story about whips and chains and diamond tiaras that I can envy tomorrow.”

The older woman raised an eyebrow. “What I don’t understand is why Carol isn’t taking this shift because you are out having a life along with Melissa. You’re young, beautiful and a helluva lot classier than most of the waitresses who’ve come through this old dive. I know all our regulars have gone gaga over you. Why aren’t you painting the town, making magic with some hot, young stud?”

Magic. Harrison shrugged, layering the plates on her arm before winking at the older, freckle-faced cook, who blushed. “Why do I need magic when I have all this?”

Deanna snorted behind her as Harrison headed to her table. Next time she saw Callie she was going to owe that girl a big apology. She’d always thought living as a human would be easier than being an Abbott. A Magian. No expectations, no spells to perfect, no family pressure—hah.

Keeping her self-enforced ban on all things magical during these last three months, since she’d moved to Cambridge, was the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life.

She’d taken it for granted—all the little ways her abilities had made her life easier. From laundry to makeup, even something as simple as getting rid of a hangover, magic was the solution. And what a spell could not accomplish, Jenner or someone else in her family took care of.

Just thinking of her first attempt at cooking made her cringe. But once she’d figured out the fine art of boiling water? Macaroni and cheese had never tasted so good. And she’d been proud. As proud as the first time one of her spells did what it was supposed to do. Maybe more so.

Not being good at something immediately was new to her. It made everything an adventure. She kind of enjoyed getting messy, turning her underwear pink and having to unclog the old sink in her apartment every other day.

On the other hand…she did it all with the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to forever. Most people didn’t have that luxury.