Page 28 of Just a Little Wicked (Wicked Sisters #2)

Erikson pulled the truck over and threw it in park.

Outside the cab, the sea lapped at the rocks of the shore, and the long, nearly-private road stretched vacant in both directions.

The only movement was the sun sparkling on the water and the rippling brown grass.

He turned to her, never once letting his hand leave her thigh, and the look in his eyes was so wild and familiar that she instantly recognized it as the same one Irish Winter had seen in the meadow.

What the fuck is happening?

“Reincarnation.”

“What?”

“Reincarnation,” he repeated. “Connor and I have come across hundreds of stories of reincarnation over the years. Oftentimes the stories are shared by children. They claim to remember mothers and families from other lives, or they mention relatives that have been dead and gone fifty years. It freaks their parents out, and that’s how we come to be involved.

We’ve done multiple episodes on the concept. ”

“Hold on.” She lifted her hands, her head spinning. “You think that you and I are reincarnated versions of our past selves? That we knew each other once before?”

“Once before, a hundred times before, who knows?”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t believe that.”

“Look what I said to you when you were playing the violin: I found you. I always will. I’ve been thinking about it ever since.

And there was a moment when you got in the truck after we visited the priest in Lubec.

The sun was slanting through the window, and I had this sensation, this knowing that I’d seen that exact play of sunlight on your face a hundred times before. ”

Was that why he’d almost kissed her? Because some past-life version of him had wanted to, and not Erikson himself? Winter didn’t know why she was disappointed to learn that. She didn’t want— couldn’t want—anything more with Erikson. Her future was already decided, and he was not a part of it.

“Think about it Winter: I had the same dream as your vision—a vision from a thousand years ago that we’re both in.”

“Are you saying we’re meant to be together? Because I don’t think . . .”

But he was already shaking his head no, and that feeling in the pit of her stomach was definitely relief.

One hundred percent. “No. I mean, it’s possible we were lovers in some of our past lives, but we also could have been enemies in others.

Some people believe we’re all given a mission to accomplish while on Earth, and if we don’t succeed in our first life, we’re reincarnated until we do.

Maybe you and I are meant to work together to accomplish something and we haven’t managed it yet. ”

She took a deep breath. “Let’s say you’re right and we’re reincarnated versions of ourselves. We’re Sherlock and Watson, Batman and Robin, Wonder Woman and Wonder Girl. What is it we’re meant to accomplish?”

He shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, but I don’t believe it’s a coincidence that your past visions started when we met, or that my touch triggers them.”

Or that her powers had begun to grow exponentially after the Grimms had come into her life, she silently added.

“I think your pastsight is going to help us figure everything out,” he continued.

“Maybe your visions are even related to what’s going on with the Shadow Council.

I’ve been investigating the paranormal for over a decade, and I’ve learned that almost everything is interconnected.

There are branches and veins of events intertwined in ways we can’t even comprehend. We’re out of options, and?—"

There was a sharp rap on Erikson’s window, halting him mid-sentence. He hit the button to lower the glass, an expression of mild curiosity on his face. “Can I help you?”

The woman who’d interrupted them was dressed in a teal wool peacoat, her blond curls flying around her head as she gave them a self-deprecating smile.

Her soft pink lipstick made her look as pretty and rosy as a children’s doll.

Winter swore she’d seen her before. “I’m so sorry to interrupt.

I’m wondering if you can help me change my tire? ”

Erikson’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, and Winter looked over her shoulder.

A little gray sedan was indeed parked behind them, lilting to the side with one tire flat.

Winter was thinking how odd it was that the woman got a flat tire directly behind them, when a velvety and bitter taste coated her tongue.

The woman was a Wicked.

Instantly, Winter remembered where she’d seen her before; wondered how she ever could have not recognized the face of the woman who’d slashed Holly’s throat in her vision.

Winter bristled, her power flooding her veins and rising so close to the surface that the hair on her arms stood. “What do you want?” she hissed.

Erikson lifted a brow at her icy tone, and Winter knew the moment he realized the woman must be Wicked, because his shoulders tensed.

The woman let her pretense fall, the sweet smile dropping away to reveal a cold, expressionless mask. “I was alerted to an unprecedented flood of Wicked power in this area. I found it . . . curious, especially considering a Pillar Witch lives here.”

Winter’s power gathered in her palms, easier than before, and behind her the sea crashed. “You’re Shadow Council.”

The petite woman bared her canines. “Consider me a colleague, Winter. I’m surprised you’re not inland, getting ready for your sister’s wedding.”

“It’s none of your business where I go.”

The woman’s pink lips parted, as if surprised by Winter’s venom.

She leaned a forearm on the sill of the window, unfazed when Erikson growled.

“I should have known you were responsible for the flood of power.” She flicked her tongue out like a snake.

“I can taste your power, Winter. But I must warn you against involving the Witches; that would be extremely foolish, and I know you’re an intelligent woman.

I wonder why our seer didn’t foresee you approaching the Pillar Witch? How did you conceal that from us?”

Winter glared at her in silence. Even if she had an answer, she wouldn’t share it.

The truth was she hadn’t done anything to shield her actions from the Shadow Council.

Until this moment, she hadn’t even thought it was possible.

She knew the Council had the ability to shield, but did normal Wickeds?

If there was a shield obfuscating what had taken place at the house, then Atlantes must’ve been responsible.

“No answer? That’s fine. Soon we’ll have all the answers we desire. Who’s your handsome man?” She reached in to walk her fingertips across Erikson’s arm. “When you join the council, maybe you’d like to bring him along as an . . . offering.”

Furious, Wicked energy pulsed through Winter as she leaned forward and shoved the woman’s hand off Erikson.

“You will not touch him if you know what’s good for you.

” Her voice was otherworldly and bitterly cold.

She knew without a doubt that her eyes were nearly black again.

It seemed that now that she’d let loose her power once, it was coming to her faster and easier.

The woman laughed with delight and backed away.

“Remarkable. Truly remarkable. Your secrets will be ours, Winter. No Witch can save you. Two days.” She winked and turned to her car, where she waved her hand and a dark fog became visible before peeling away, revealing the tire intact. Was she an illusionist?

The woman slid behind the wheel and gave them a beauty contestant flutter of her fingertips as she drove past.

Winter struggled to rein in her Wickedness before it spiraled out of control like it had at Atlantes’ house. There was no Witch here to even out her powers, and she didn’t want to hurt Erikson.

She breathed in and out, forcing her darkness down, even as it whispered to her: You’re stronger than she is. Show her what you’re made of. Show her what happens with she threatens your people.

But Winter didn’t know how strong she was, or what she was capable of. She barely even knew how to wield her powers. She doubted she could take on a highly skilled set of assassins all on her own. The Wicked voice inside her was being dangerously foolish.

Erikson’s heavy hand squeezed her thigh, and through the storm raging in her brain she heard, as if muted through cotton, the low timbre of his voice.

“Come back to me, Elf.” He squeezed her thigh again, and she focused on that point of contact as she painstakingly reeled her power back in, bit by bit, until she had imprisoned it once more, leaving her shaking and cold.

“Ah, baby. Come here.” Erikson tugged her over the console and she allowed him to, trembling and empty.

She landed inelegantly in his lap, her boots still draped across the console and her cheek pressed against his chest. His big hand smoothed up her spine to her neck, and then back down again, over and over, his cheek resting on top of her head.

She knew he was murmuring words of comfort because she felt the deep vibrations in his chest, but she wasn’t cognizant of what they were, only that they lulled her into an unexpected sense of safety.

Finally, she became fully aware of her surroundings, and lifted her head. “Did you call me baby?”

Erikson laughed. “Sorry, it slipped out. I’ll stick with Elf in the future.”

“You’re annoying,” she muttered, but she didn’t really mean it, and he knew she didn’t, because he only smirked and pressed her cheek back to his chest.

They sat there for a while, the sun bending through the windshield and the sound of waves lapping at the rocks, and all the while a single thought continued to float through Winter’s consciousness: shielding .

If the Shadow Council knew what she was going to do before she did, then she’d never stood a chance.

But if it was possible that she could shield her intentions from them . . .

“Erikson?”

“Yeah?”

“I think we need to go back to Atlantes.”