Page 7 of Just a Little Wicked (Wicked Sisters #2)

“The first thing I need to do is contact Stacy.”

Erikson pulled her phone from his pocket. “It’s yours. From your house.”

She took it with a soft, “Thank you,” and quickly scrolled to a name in her contacts and hit call. She put it on speaker so he could hear, and a few rings later a smooth voice answered.

“Winter? Did you butt dial me?”

“No, I’m calling you on purpose.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

Winter immediately cut to the chase, because she was Winter and small talk wasn’t in her skill set. “Do you know a Witch named Atlantes?”

Stacy was quiet for a moment, and Erikson could almost picture her perfectly waxed brows drawing together in confusion. “Atlantes?”

“Yes.”

Stacy made a humming noise as voices bled through from the background. “That’s an unusual name. It sounds somewhat familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

Fuck . What could that mean?

Winter looked crest-fallen. “Are you sure? I had a vision of you standing beside him, and you knew who he was.”

Stacy made a surprised noise. “Then I haven’t met him yet.”

“Can you please ask around? It’s an emergency. Like, a seriously dire, I-need-to-find-this-guy-immediately sort of emergency.”

Stacy’s tone shifted. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m still figuring it out. Will you ask every Witch you know if they’ve heard of him, and if they know where to find him? There are Wickeds who mean to harm my family, and it’s possible Atlantes may be able to help.”

Stacy’s tone frosted even further. “I’ll do everything I can. And Winter? Keep me updated. I know our families haven’t always gotten along, but things are changing now, and we’re very powerful Witches.”

The barest hint of a smile crossed Winter’s face.

They’d all learned last spring that a long time ago Witches and Wickeds worked in harmony, before humanity tore them apart.

Only now were some Witches and Wickeds once again reconnecting and finding their balance with each other.

And Stacy was right—she and her brothers had been born to balance out the Celeste women, which meant Stacy and her brothers were unprecedentedly powerful.

They were very good allies to have in one’s corner.

When Winter hung up, Erikson scraped his palm over his chin.

He wanted to call Connor and warn him to be on his guard, but his brother was getting married in four days, and there was still a chance he and Winter could alter the future before they involved anyone else and potentially put them in danger.

“We can’t wait around hoping Stacy learns something,” he said. “We need to find this guy on our own. So how do we get more visions? You want to hold hands or something?”

Winter gave him a “get real” look. “I don’t usually have visions this close together. I think the first thing we should do is Google him.”

Now that he could do. Erikson and Connor were both particularly talented when it came to tracking down people and stories.

They sat in silence under the yellow glow of the lamp, lost in the depths of the Internet while the water lapped against the rocks outside the window.

After half an hour of finding absolutely nothing, Erikson gave in and texted his co-host and the best researcher he knew, Charlotte Hernandez.

He didn’t give her any details other than a first name, but Charlotte had FBI-level stalking skills.

If she couldn’t find Atlantes online, then no one could.

“Nothing,” he grunted, tossing his phone on the desk. “No socials, no articles. There isn’t even anyone by that damned name on the last census.”

“Maybe it’s a nickname?” Winter suggested, lowering her phone too. She pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead.

Erikson had never seen her so vulnerable.

Winter Celeste had armor thicker than most, but now hers was cracking, and he was unnerved to discover that for the briefest moment, he wanted to seal it back up for her.

Erikson’s typical role was that of entertainment.

When he and Connor had started their show, Erikson had taken the clowning-around persona he’d created while in their screwed-up family and run with it, goofing off and charming audiences around the world.

When people had problems, his go-to solution was to distract and flirt those problems right out of their heads.

That same irreverence and carefree attitude translated into a specific type of relationship with the opposite sex.

He had flings with equally uncaring women, and he had a hell of a lot of fun, but he never got too deep with any one woman, certainly not deep enough to want to piece her back together if she fell apart.

The fact that the thought had crossed his mind about the most hellishly stubborn person he’d ever met, even if for only a moment, was enough to make him wonder if he was in crisis.

“Let’s try for a vision anyway.” He rose and sat beside her on the bed. He was so much heavier than her that he depressed the mattress, and she tilted toward him as he held out his hand. “You never know.”

Her hazel eyes dropped to his palm. He could tell she didn’t want to touch him, but he wasn’t offended. Touching someone made you vulnerable, and Winter didn’t do vulnerability.

After a moment she nodded resolutely and slid her smaller hand into his. The instant their skin touched, a crackle of electricity leapt across his flesh, and for a split second he had the strangest feeling that he’d known her in some other, long-forgotten life.

His eyes flickered to her face. Did the feeling mean she was having a vision? But her eyes weren’t blank and vacant. Instead, they were wide and confused, and he wondered if she’d felt the same static he had.

Erikson cleared his throat. “Anything?”

“No.”

After another few seconds she removed her hand, and he closed his fingers around his empty palm, feeling the absence of her warmth.

“We’ll try again in the morning,” she said tersely, glancing at the clock. It was nearly eleven. “Where are you staying?”

Erikson toed off his boots. “Here.”

“At the inn?”

“No, in this room.”

“The hell you are.”

“If you think, for even one half of a second, that I’m separating from you when there is a killer council out to coerce you into compliance—a council that has already appeared in front of you out of thin air—then you’re delusional.

Until this situation is resolved, I’m sticking to your side like glue. ”

“I’m not going to run, Erikson. I need you for the visions.”

“Good to know.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know that too. Doesn’t change the fact that for the next four days, we’re in this together.

Consider me your new shadow. If they come for you early, I’ll be here.

And if they don’t, maybe my constant presence will trigger visions, and we need those visions, Winter.

We don’t have a lot of time, and your life, along with the lives of countless others that will be in jeopardy if you have to join the council, are at stake.

Surely you can tolerate my presence for four days knowing that? ”

She opened her mouth to protest, but clamped it shut again, her teeth clicking together. “There isn’t a couch.”

He stretched out on the mattress and stacked his hands behind his head. “Right. So which side of the bed do you want?”

“I’m not sleeping with you!”

“Why not? Afraid you won’t be able to resist me?”

“Your ego is seriously out of hand. And no, the reason I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you is because you’re giant and you’re going to take up all the space.”

He shrugged. “It’s a king.” Then his conscience got the best of him and he grudgingly asked, “Are you uncomfortable with me sleeping here for reasons other than space? Honestly?”

Winter glared at him for several moments, wrestling with her clear desire to answer in the affirmative and force him to leave—because he would if her answer was yes. Finally, with great irritation, she huffed, “No.”

“Good.”

“Besides, if you tried anything, I’d cut off your balls.”

“We could have done without the last threat to my anatomy.”

She gave him a wicked smile. “Just making sure we’re on the same page. Do you need to get anything from your truck?”

“Why? So you can lock me out? I’ll be fine until morning, and I bet there’s a spare toothbrush under the sink.”

She growled at him. Growled . Then she sprang off the bed and walked toward the bathroom.

Despite his best intentions, his eyes fell to her ass, which was encased in a tight pair of jeans.

Damn, the little pixie had a great body.

From the moment he’d first seen her all those months ago, his body had reacted to hers, and it hadn’t stopped reacting, not that he would ever admit to it.

It annoyed him as much as it would annoy her if she knew.

Since he’d promised he’d behave, he tore his gaze away and stared at a vase of seashells while she slammed the bathroom door behind her.

Erikson sighed as he got comfortable on the bed.

It was going to be a tense few days with the warrior princess, but all that mattered was finding Atlantes and stopping the Shadow Council.

The alternative—that Winter would have to spend a lifetime under their thumb—was nearly as unacceptable as the threat against his brother.

Erikson didn’t often have cause to get angry; he was too easy-going for much to bother him, but when he did, he could be a scary motherfucker.

The Shadow Council had made a big mistake messing with his people. Now he was going to devote every waking moment to making their lives hell.