Page 49 of Just a Little Wicked (Wicked Sisters #2)

Missy

Winter, how come you never tell me anything?

Winter

Why do you need me to share stuff with you? You have a billion friends.

A ll out war.

That was what Stacy was warning them would happen if they couldn’t pull a miracle from their hats in the next twenty-four hours.

Winter alternately hated Atlantes for being an unfeeling bastard, and admired him for committing to doing whatever it took to protect his people—even if it meant murdering her, because she was fairly certain that was what Stacy was getting at.

“Excuse me,” Winter muttered, edging toward the door. “I need a minute to think.”

“Winter—” Erikson began, but she ignored him and hurried down the hallway.

She just needed a few moments. If she could figure out how the Wickeds oriented their teleports, then maybe she could make a run for it and save everyone the trouble.

The problem was if they could teleport based on a face.

Plastic surgery! She could make herself unrecognizable!

Winter didn’t realize she was running past the still smoking, charred barn, until she’d reached the birch patch where Erikson had heard her play so many months ago. She didn’t have her violin, so she threw her head back and screamed.

It was so unfair. She’d spent her entire life suppressing her curse, and she’d still become caught in a political power move by the Shadow Council. She’d become a threat not only to her own kind, but to Witches and humanity alike.

She paced among the trees, shivering in her thin shirt. The temperature had increased since that morning, but it was still jacket weather.

“Oh, thank fuck you didn’t run away,” someone said.

Winter whirled around to find Missy behind her, bending over with her hands on her knees as she sucked in air. “How are you so fit? I need to join a gym.”

“Missy,” Winter said through clenched teeth, “I need a few minutes alone. I have to think .”

“Nope, no. Uh-uh.” She should have looked ridiculous with her sleep mask still pushed onto her forehead, but Missy had a certain style and charisma that ensured she could successfully wear a trash bag if she wanted to.

It had always irked Winter how her sister could be so effortlessly adorable, while Winter was a tiny, awkward monster.

“Go away.”

“No.” Missy straightened and closed the space between them. It was almost like looking in a mirror, except Winter had never been able to see Missy as anything but a completely different person. “I know what you’re thinking, and you can’t run away. The Shadow Council has teleporters.”

“I’ll get plastic surgery to avoid a facial lock.”

“Maybe they use our power signatures to guide the teleport.”

Shit . She hadn’t considered that. It would be impossible to alter what curled in her breast.

Winter felt like she was going to scream again. Or maybe fly apart into a thousand pieces.

“Besides, haven’t you done enough running? It’s not like you.”

“I ran to try to stop the future,” Winter said through clenched teeth.

“Maybe you could try fighting instead of being a whiny little drama queen about it.”

Winter sucked in a breath. “Are you kidding me right now? You’re calling me a drama queen?

You, who lives on fashion and alcohol and reality TV?

You, who’s had everyone eating out of her palm from the second she was born?

You, who flits around all day playing on social media while Holly and I deal with the reality of what we are and what it means to run this place? ”

“Oh, fuck off with the martyr act,” Missy said scornfully. “You think I’m not already aware of what you think of me? You think I don’t know that you look at me like I’m a vapid, useless airhead?”

Winter’s lips parted in surprise. “Missy, I don’t think that.”

“Sure you do. I know this because I’m not actually a dumbass, and you make your feelings about me pretty clear.

But answer me this, Winter: have you ever thought about how tiring it is to be the effervescent, bubbly one?

Have you ever thought that, like you, sometimes I’m so burdened by my curse I want to bury my head under the covers and scream, but I can’t, because you’re so busy being the tortured one, the silent and stony one that everyone’s always worried about, that there’s no space for me to be anything but the comic relief?

I’m the one who plays and brings levity to this family because if I don’t, you’ll all drown in your own goddamned misery.

You think it’s easy to joke around and make light, when every day I’m dealing with the same fucking curse as you?

Why, exactly, do you think I ‘live on alcohol?’ Because I’m a party girl?

” She propped her hands on her hips, her nails painted pink and her purple sleep mask askew on her head.

“I’ve been who I am so that the rest of you can be who you are.

Yet you’ve never taken the time to see past my role, and I’m your twin , Winter. ”

Winter stood shell-shocked, gaping at her twin sister like she’d never seen her before.

And maybe she hadn’t. For the first time she considered the possibility that Missy wasn’t naturally engaging, that she didn’t soak up all the charm in the womb.

That her sister had created this persona, much like how Erikson had, in order to protect the family in the only way she knew how.

While Winter had had the luxury of closing down while she wrestled with her curse, Missy had had to literally grin while bearing her own.

It was the difference between allowing yourself to disappear into your own mind while being tortured, and being forced to joke around and smile while someone broke your bones.

And Missy had done all of that for them, while Winter had done nothing but judge her out of jealousy.

“Missy, I—I didn’t know you felt that way.

” She swallowed. “You’re right. I’ve always been so jealous of your charm that I didn’t take the time to look past it.

I should have realized you were suffering.

I’m sorry.” Tears of shame and humiliation welled in her eyes, and she tried to quickly dash them away with the back of her hand.

“Shit, I’m sorry too, Winter.” Missy pulled her into a hard hug, and Winter sniffled into her strawberry-scented hair. “I shouldn’t have made this about me. This isn’t even why I came out here.”

“No, I’m glad you did. I needed to hear it.”

Missy pulled back and wiped away one of Winter’s tears. “I’ve made a literal Irish warrior cry. I’m going to hell.”

Winter snorted and rubbed her eyes. “I’m just a little overwhelmed by all my failures.”

Missy’s crinkled eyes turned solemn. “Winter, you haven’t failed any of us.

I know you retreat into your shell to protect the rest of us.

It wasn’t fair for me to throw that at you.

But you have failed yourself, and you’re still doing it.

You’re pushing away everyone who loves you.

Most specifically, Erikson. Because I don’t care what anyone says, that man has it bad for you. ”

“Missy,” she said mournfully, “I can’t be with him. My power is unstable around him.”

Missy stuck out her hip and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’ve left him in every lifetime, right?”

Winter nodded.

“And then you guys are reincarnated and repeat the same cycle over and over.”

“Yes.”

Missy stared at her. “So clearly leaving him isn’t the right move. Maybe you should try being with him.”

“I don’t know how!”

Missy tried a different tack. “Okay, but there’s a reason this keeps happening. Why do you have a soulmate while the rest of us don’t? Why are you repeating your lives over and over?”

Winter stared at her helplessly. “First of all, who says you don’t have a soulmate? And secondly, Erikson says it’s because we haven’t accomplished something that we’re meant to do.”

Missy nodded. “Do you love him?”

“Missy, just because we share a soul doesn’t mean?—”

“I didn’t ask because of your souls. I mean, the idea of soulmates is cute and all, but you’re far too strong willed to let something like sharing a soul decide your future.

I asked because you’re different with him, Win.

You smile more. You gravitate toward him like he’s the tether keeping you grounded.

I can tell he makes you happy, and we’ve had so very little to be happy about in our lives.

Are you really going to give him up and repeat the cycle over in the next life? ”

“I don’t know what else to do.”

Missy grabbed Winter’s hand, and Winter’s own hazel eyes were reflected back at her, except for the first time, she glimpsed the steel of the real Missy beneath. “Then you figure it out. Don’t give up. Get it right this time.”

“What if I hurt someone?”

“What if you trust in yourself and somehow manage to control your power and have incredible, window-shattering sex the rest of your life with one of the hottest men on the planet?"

Winter gave a watery laugh. “You’re telling me not to run, and to risk hurting other people. That’s a big ask.”

“It’s not all on you, Winter. Let us help you figure it out. Let this be our problem. Stop hogging the burden.”

Winter smiled again, and for the first time in a long time, she felt close to Missy. “I can’t make any promises, especially if people start getting hurt. But I can try. For now, I can try.”

“Good. Now get your ass back inside. We have to plan for war.”

They returned to the living room together. To Winter’s surprise, Stacy was still there, shaking a few pain-relief pills into her palm, while the aunts were pale with nausea. They were arguing about potential options, but everyone fell silent as soon as Winter slipped into the room.

“I’m back,” she said, but she was looking at Erikson. Lines radiated from his eyes, and his lips were pressed flat. He was seated, his hands loosely clasped between his knees, and the look he gave her was guarded, like he was terrified of what she’d returned to say.