Page 46 of Just a Little Wicked (Wicked Sisters #2)

Jemma

Erikson, are you in Maine? Want to grab dinner?

Erikson

Sorry, Jemma. I’m with someone now.

Jemma

Oh, well don’t forget about me when you’re single again.

Erikson

I won’t be single again.

H olly took care of most of the flames with her storm, but neighbors still spotted smoke and called the fire department. By the time they arrived, the barn was little more than a smoking carcass, and Winter’s face was taut and pale.

“I’m sorry,” she kept whispering.

Missy rubbed her back while the aunts spoke with the firemen. “Well, the good news is now we can get a shiny new barn like Stacy’s.”

A few minutes later, a brand-new SUV drove in and two identical men jumped out, both of them dressed like they’d come straight from a Hollywood meeting.

They were Stacy’s twin brothers, Jordan and Kayson, born to balance out Missy and Winter.

Or perhaps Missy and Winter had been born to balance them .

No one was entirely sure. They must’ve felt the massive outputs of power from Holly and Winter.

Jordan approached Winter, standing close enough to speak with her, but far enough away that her white cheeks didn’t lose what little color was left.

“Sorry about your barn,” he said. He had a deep, velvet voice, and high cheekbones beneath brown skin that was damp from the light rain.

Kayson opened an umbrella over their heads, and Erikson shivered at the power rolling off them.

Now that he knew what Witch magic felt like, he thought he’d be able to recognize it anywhere.

It was like a brush of electricity across your skin, enough to lift the hair on the back of your neck if you knew what it was.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Kayson asked.

He was wearing dark navy slacks and a black button-down shirt.

Erikson didn’t think he’d ever seen the twin brothers dressed in anything but perfectly tailored clothes.

Now that he thought about it, Atlantes and Alina had looked effortlessly put-together as well. Was this a Witch thing?

“I don’t think so,” Winter said listlessly. “Thank you for coming.”

Jordan nodded. He and his brother were identical, but Jordan wore an identifying pair of dark-framed glasses. “Of course. We felt the first pulse over at our place. It was like . . .”

“Chaos,” Kayson supplied.

Jordan nodded. “Chaos. Then we felt Holly exerting her power, but it was more controlled.”

The storm had begun to dissipate when the firefighters arrived, the pouring rain dissolving into a soft mist. From where they stood, Erikson could hear the firefighters commenting about the luck of the freak storm.

“How did you know it was Holly using her power?” Erikson asked curiously.

Jordan turned to look at him, the rim of his irises almost glowing gold. “We remembered her signature from the time she used her power against the ghost.”

Winter’s lips parted. “Power has a signature?”

The twins exchanged looks. “Yes, and so does magic. You didn’t know that?”

She shook her head, her posture slumping. It was alarming—Winter never slumped. “We don’t know anything. We’re a mess,” she said flatly.

The men’s faces turned sympathetic.

“Where’s Stacy?” Erikson asked. He wanted to wrap his arm around Winter’s shoulders and tug her close, but she’d made it clear she didn’t want him to touch her.

She looked defeated, like it was taking every ounce of her energy to continue standing.

It was so out of character that he almost put the back of his hand to her forehead to check for a fever.

“She went north to visit an elder Witch, but we expect her back any minute. She’s had us reading old Witch history for days looking for any mention of the Wickeds.” Kayson wrinkled his nose. “The books even smell old.”

“Did you find anything?” Erikson asked, thinking Connor would give part of his soul to get his hands on Witch texts.

Wickeds had a single text called the Valley of Shadows, but it was mostly about ritual and contained very little useful information.

Still, Connor had holed up with it for days when Holly had handed it to him, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he’d soaked in the hidden history.

“Some, but we’ll let Stacy share it with you. We have to head back to The Apple Dream. You all right here?”

Winter nodded. “Holly was able to control herself this time.”

Kayson grinned. “That’s good to hear, especially since her powers are growing. The more she practices, the more control she’ll have. At least that’s what it’s like for magic.”

“How do you know her powers are growing?” Winter asked, her brows pinching.

The twins shared another look.

“What?”

“Well, the six of us are meant to balance one another out, and our magic is growing,” Kayson explained. “Holly is Stacy’s counterbalance, and since Holly’s power is expanding, so is Stacy’s. Jordan and I balance out you and Missy. I think I’m your balance specifically, Winter.”

“How can you tell?”

He shifted uneasily. “My magic has been erratic lately. Acting strangely.”

“Are you a seer?”

He shook his head. “My specialty is projection, but I’ve never been able to do some of things I can do now. Lately, I can easily hold multiple projections at once, when before it was a struggle to project more than a single image.”

“Projectors typically can’t hold more than one illusion,” Jordan explained.

“I assumed it was because your powers were manifesting differently. My magic has been in chaos, and I can tell your power is too.”

Winter bowed her head. “I’m sorry. It seems I’m screwing with people left and right.”

Kayson laughed. “Never said I didn’t like it.” His expression sobered as he faced the smoking barn. “But I know the power surges aren’t the same for you as they are for me. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” she said dully.

“Stacy will visit when she gets home. If you need us, we’re just a phone call away.”

She waved goodbye to them as they swung into their SUV and backed out of the driveway.

After the firetrucks left, Holly nearly collapsed from a severe migraine, which was her punishment for using her powers for good.

Connor carried her inside so she could lie down.

Erikson watched them go, Holly’s dark hair draped over his brother’s arm as he held her bride-style, his gray gaze so soft on her face that it made Erikson’s heart ache with joy. His brother deserved that kind of love.

Erikson’s attention returned to the sodden woman who stood so close to him, and yet might as well have been a thousand miles away. “Let’s go inside. There isn’t much else we can do right now.”

“I’ll make apple butter pancakes,” Aunt Rose said, walking over to pat Winter’s shoulder. “A little food in everyone’s belly will do wonders.”

“I have to tell you all something,” Winter said, regret etched in the lines at her eyes.

“Tut, tut,” Aunt Rose admonished. “After we eat. There is time enough for confessions.”

“Pancakes aren’t the way to her heart, Aunt Rose.” Missy wrapped her arm around Winter’s waist and said, “I’ve got those good coffee beans, the ones they roast up north that you once told me made you believe in heaven.”

Erikson flashed Missy a grateful smile as Winter straightened a little, some life returning. “Coffee sounds good.”

An hour later, after Aunt Rose had cooked the fluffiest, most delicious pancakes Erikson had ever eaten, and he and Connor had washed the dishes, they all sat around the scarred Celeste table with steaming beverages.

The aunts were drinking tea, while he, Connor, Missy, and Winter all had mugs of coffee that, true to Winter’s claim, almost made him see angels on high.

Winter’s eyes closed in satisfaction as she took a long swallow, and Erikson’s blood stirred.

Now that he knew how she looked when she was being pleasured, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to watch her enjoy a cup of coffee again without getting semi-aroused.

The woman was so intense, so solemn, and carried so much weight, that when she allowed herself a momentary indulgence of joy, it was a sight to behold.

He wanted to give her more of those moments.

He wanted to massage her feet after a long day of working on the farm, or her palms after she played the violin.

He wanted to kiss her temple and hold her tight when she needed a hug but wouldn’t ask for one.

He wanted to make her coffee every morning, and then spread her thighs and see if he could make her forget about it until it went cold.

Erikson slammed his cup down, some of the liquid sloshing over the rim onto the table as a terrifying thought entered his brain.

Was he . . . was he falling in love with her?

No, it was too soon for that, and things were too uncertain right now.

She’d barely begun to like him, barely begun to accept that their souls were entwined.

Besides, the timing couldn’t be worse. She’d just discovered she lost control when they were intimate together, and was now determined to cut him out of her life.

How stupid would he have to be to fall for a woman determined to leave him?

He glanced at her, her eyelashes fanning over her cheeks and the ceramic mug touching her soft bottom lip as she drank, and his heart wrung in his chest.

Fuck.

He forced himself to look way, only to find Connor staring at him with a knowing smirk on his face.

“Shut up,” Erikson hissed.

Missy glanced between the brothers. “He didn’t say anything.”

“Oh, he said plenty with a single look.”

“I wish Holly was here,” Winter said, either completely ignoring them, or too wrapped up in her own thoughts to be aware. “How is she feeling?”

“She’s exhausted and she’s having an ocular migraine, but she’ll be fine,” Connor said.

“Even though Holly’s resting, I have to get something off my chest.” Winter took a deep breath. “I started the fire.”