Page 53 of Just a Little Wicked (Wicked Sisters #2)
Stacy
Seriously, we need your help.
Atlantes
No.
W inter brushed a hand down her satin, blush-colored bridesmaid dress. Holly and Connor had been planning their wedding for months, and the guests who’d already arranged to attend before it was cancelled, were happy to hear the wedding was back on.
It was a chilly, brilliant-blue day. The breeze was strong enough to jounce the craggy black branches of the rolling apple trees, but gentle enough to only ruffle the white lace tablecloths situated under the rented tent.
Outdoor heaters roared along the perimeter in order to keep guests comfortable, and the scents of woodsmoke from the house wafted on the early December air.
Winter was wearing a deep red cardigan over her dress and a matching pair of combat-style boots beneath.
She was grateful Holly hadn’t expected her to wear heels.
Not only was Winter incapable of maneuvering in heels—on grass, no less—but she wanted to be able to run and move as necessary considering their plans.
Her curls were pinned in an artful French twist, and she’d allowed Missy to apply makeup this one time .
Because she’d let her twin do her makeup, for once they looked like the identical siblings they were.
Winter peeked her head around the shed where she, Missy, and Holly were hiding from view of the groom and his best man.
“Are you sure about this?” Winter asked, her heart filled with tenderness as she turned back to her sister, who was waiting in her wedding gown.
Holly’s wedding gown had a gorgeous, full skirt with a see-through lace bodice and solid white bra cups.
She was wearing her frost crown made of real leaves and berries with the veil attached to the back, the white tulle contrasting with her dark hair.
In short, she was breathtaking. Winter’s chest squeezed as she studied her radiant older sister, and prayed they hadn’t made a mistake trusting the Witches.
“I’m sure,” Holly said firmly.
“Okay.” Winter’s fingers tightened on her bouquet. “Then it’s time.”
With a fistful of ivy, clipped firs, and berries in hand, she walked out from behind the shed and started making her way down the satin runner.
White chairs were crowded close on either side of the aisle, and ahead, beneath one of the old apple trees, Connor stood in a dark gray tuxedo, his eyes peering intently behind her, waiting for the first glimpse of his bride.
Erikson stood beside him, tall and broad in his groomsman suit, his eyes as blue as the sky overhead.
His gaze raked over Winter, and she instantly grew warm under his perusal.
The way she reacted to him never ceased to surprise her.
Everything about him felt right, from the way he gave her annoying nicknames, to how he smelled, to how he felt beneath her. Inside her.
Involuntarily, the memory of how he’d slowly pushed into her and how full she’d felt flashed in her mind and made her footsteps falter.
Her power brushed against her skin, and she frantically tried to think of something else.
Erikson smirked, like he knew exactly where her thoughts had wandered and he couldn’t wait for a repeat.
Winter’s pace slowed again when an intense wave of nausea swept over her.
She glanced over her shoulder to where Stacy, Kayson, and Jordan stood among the apple trees, keeping their distance for as long as possible.
Her eyes flicked to Stacy’s left, where Atlantes strode forward to join them.
She’d known he’d come; this was the exact moment she’d seen in her first vision of him, down to the black tuxedo he wore and his scowling mouth.
Stacy’s lips moved, and Winter knew she was saying in surprise, “Atlantes, you came.”
Last night Atlantes had told Stacy there was no way in hell he was getting involved.
Winter had assured Stacy he would, but Stacy had shaken her head and suggested Winter keep her expectations low, because even though Winter had had the vision of Atlantes at the wedding, visions could still be changed by free will and choice.
Winter was well aware of that. They themselves had made one particular change to this day.
Atlantes’ lips moved, and she knew he was growling about how he’d rather be anywhere else, but had come to help.
Winter looked forward again and smiled at the devastatingly handsome Grimm brothers. She knew there was something a little Wicked in her smile, because Erikson’s responding grin curled into something dark and possessive.
When she reached the end of the aisle, she veered toward Erikson instead of peeling to the bride’s side as was traditional. She took her place at Erikson’s side and prayed the Witches were already moving toward them.
As Missy walked down the aisle with enviable grace in a pair of sky-high heels, Erikson’s hand brushed against hers. “You’re beautiful.”
She licked her bottom lip. “You’re pretty handsome yourself.”
His eyes fell to her damp lip and his pupils expanded. “When this is over,” he said quietly, “you’re going to give me the chance to convince you to give us a chance. A real one.”
She turned to look up at him. “Is that so?”
“That’s so.”
“And if I don’t?”
He dipped his head so Connor couldn’t hear him growl in her ear, “I can be pretty persuasive, Elf.”
Despite the danger he was in, despite the fact that everything needed to go perfectly or there wouldn’t be any “persuading” in their future, her focus slipped and her core heated at the low promise in his voice.
“Okay,” she whispered.
His eyebrows lifted in surprise at her easy agreement. “Okay?”
She nodded. The truth was that she didn’t need much convincing. Now that she’d opened herself to her power and confronted the thing she’d spent her entire life afraid of, she no longer felt like a top spinning out of control.
“Thank God. I can’t wait to drag that skirt up your legs and slide my fingers?—”
“Erikson!” she choked. “You need to focus.”
He scowled, but he stopped the dirty talk and her heart rate slowly dropped back to normal as Stacy, her brothers, and Atlantes moved toward them.
Atlantes’ eyes were darting between Winter and Missy, as if confirming that yes, there were two of them, before lingering for a long moment on her sister, who blew him an obnoxious air kiss when she spotted him.
Missy adored being the center of attention, but she liked making mischief even more. She knew exactly who Atlantes was.
“Here we go,” Winter said softly, grasping Erikson’s hand. She wouldn’t let go again. Plans could go awry, and there was no way she was risking him. If the Shadow Council appeared early and the teleporter touched him, Winter would be going with him.
A moment later Holly stepped out from behind the shack, Aunt Rose and Aunt Daisy on either arm.
Winter’s gaze darted to Connor, and her heart melted at the utter devotion and awe that crossed his face at the sight of her sister.
He loved Holly fiercely and faithfully, and for that Winter loved him.
She’d always had a good feeling about him, even at the start when they’d still been afraid he would expose their species on national TV, and now she knew why: he was perfect for her Wicked sister.
Holly and the aunts drifted down the runner, Holly’s gaze locked on Connor as she drank him in.
This was their first time seeing each other in their tuxedo and wedding gown, and Winter mourned that it was under these circumstances, but both of them had insisted on the plan.
Winter could only hope that with her family’s futures now shielded, the council wouldn’t learn that something about the wedding had changed until it was too late.
“Are you ready?” Winter asked Erikson. Holly and the aunts had almost reached them, which meant, according to the plans she’d overhead, the Shadow Council should be showing up any minute.
“Ready,” he said, squeezing her hand and winking down at her. “Don’t worry, Win. I’m not going anywhere.”
The moment the words were out of his mouth, six women appeared in front of them. Although Winter knew the council was capable of teleporting, watching six people pop out of thin air was still mind-boggling. She was a paranormal being, and even she was floored by this strange new reality.
At the center of their group stood the Shadowhead, the blond with pink lipstick named Nova. She was an illusionist, Winter reminded herself. Nova could convince them they were seeing something that wasn’t really there, and Winter couldn’t forget that.
With Nova were the three Wickeds who’d approached Winter on the coastline: Red Scarf, with the garishly pale skin; Opal Ring, with brown skin and leather pants that Winter just knew Missy was secretly admiring even though she hated the Shadow Council; and Melanie, the seer whose eyes burned into Winter with loathing.
Either Red Scarf or Opal Ring was the teleporter.
Standing slightly behind them were two more Wickeds, and Winter could practically feel the malice wafting from their skin. Enforcers , she thought. She didn’t know why she was so certain they possessed devastating Wicked powers, but she sensed in her bones that they did.
“Winter,” Nova purred, her voice a sickly-sweet contrast to the evil oozing from her pores, “we simply could not wait a moment longer. What a beautiful wedding! So sorry to interrupt, dear,” she said, her flat eyes scanning Holly’s gown.
“You’re the weather-bearer, right?” Holly didn’t respond, but her knuckles turned white around her bouquet.
“Could you start a tornado? A super storm?” Nova’s eyes gleamed with excitement.