Read Pucker Up (A Damsels of Distress Novel) Online
Authors: R. A. Gates
pent up magic in one blow. Power jolted
from her hands like shock paddles and
slammed into the angry Scot, sending
him and anything not bolted down flying
across the room. He hit the wall with a
loud crack and slumped to the floor.
She collapsed, trembling and
sucking air into her burning lungs. Books
and loose papers coated the floor and
the easy chair hiding the stain lay
toppled on its side. Broken glass from
fallen picture frames littered the edges
of the room. A groan from across the
parlor quickened her pulse.
That’s my cue to leave
. She
scrambled to the open doorway as best
she could. Using so much magic drained
most of her energy but she willed her
rubber legs to move. Werewolves were
a sturdy bunch and it was going to take a
lot more than crashing against a wall to
keep him down.
Heavy footsteps shook the floor
as they grew closer. She pulled herself
to her feet using the door frame and
staggered into the hall. But before she
was clear of the room, a strong hand
clamped down on the back of her neck
and pulled her backwards. She bit back
a scream while attempting to tear off the
fleshy hook.
His nails dug into her skin as he
forced her body down, bending her at the
waist in front of him.
She whimpered.
He held her there for at least a
hundred ticks of the grandfather clock as
she stared at the dried mud splattered
across the toes of his boots.
“Ye owe me five thousand
dollars,” he said in a raspy voice, his
grip tightening. “One month ye have, or
both you and the boy are out on the
street.”
“You can't do that,” she croaked.
“No one else will take in a young
werewolf.” Images of Danny huddled in
a cardboard box in an alley flashed
before her eyes.
“Try me.” He released her with a
final shove to the floor and walked away
without another word.
She waited face down on the
dirty hardwood floor until she heard a
door slam upstairs. She propped herself
up on her elbows and sighed.
Great.
Now I owe Mr. McGregor money I
don't have.
Even if she worked extra
shifts at the diner, and kissed major butt
for tips, she still couldn't make enough in
time.
“Are you all right?” Danny
cowered in the doorway watching her
struggle to her feet.
“Well, I'm alive.” She rubbed the
back of her neck as she hobbled past
him. Brushing the dust off her jeans, she
lumbered outside to retrieve her book
bag and skateboard when the phone rang.
The odds that it was for her were slim,
so she trod upstairs to drink a healing
potion for her throat and get started on
the hours of homework waiting for her.
Just as she opened her bedroom
door, Danny yelled out. “Ivy, it's for
you.”
“Take a message.” It was Friday.
She was tired and felt like a wrung-out
rag. The last thing she wanted to do was
be guilted into working a late night shift
at the diner tonight, even though she
could really use the money. She trudged
to the bathroom down the hall and then
chugged down the last bottle of healing
potion. The bitter taste lingered on her
tongue as the liquid soothed her throat.
The strengthening potion smelled like
feet, but she swallowed that down, too,
instantly perking up. Medicine, magical
or not, always tasted awful.
Closing the cabinet, she caught
her reflection in the mirror. Underneath
her dark curls, the red marks on the sides
of her neck from Mr. McGregor's fingers
glared at her. He’d surprised her with
his speed as much as she surprised
herself with her sluggishness. She
forsaw grueling hours of training to get
back in shape in her future.
Unshed tears prickled her eyes
as she stared at the little marks,
reminders of how she let her fear take
over. She was reckless, careless to let
the situation get so out of control. A year
ago she would’ve had him on the floor,
begging for mercy. Of course, a year ago
her entire life was different: her mother
was still alive and she wasn’t cursed
with magic powers. Now she was
hunted outside Salmagundi’s borders.
She squeezed her eyes shut, pushing
back the tears that begged for release.
Maybe all that’s happened was
some sort of cosmic punishment for what
she used to be, used to do. All of her
past prejudices and bad choices haunted
her now. She couldn’t keep living with
these ghosts constantly eating at her soul
and robbing her of any happiness. If only
there was a way to make up for her past.
After a few calming breaths, she
forced her emotions back down where
they belonged. She grabbed a wad of
toilet paper and blew her nose. From
this
moment
forward,
she
was
determined to redeem herself, somehow.
As she washed her hands, a
small cut on her wrist stung under the
cold water. His teeth were sharp for not
even being a full moon. She froze.
He bit her. Indirectly, but his
teeth still punctured her skin. And his
saliva, with all its germs and magic,
could’ve contaminated her blood.
Crap. Karma strikes again.
A moment later, rationale took
over and she realized that she couldn’t
become a werewolf because she was
already a witch. The two different
magics couldn’t live inside the same
person
. Duh
. One always dominated the
other and because she was born a witch,
she’d stay a witch. At least she’d be
spared the anguish of fleas.
Danny sat on the floor, leaning
against the wall across from the
bathroom when she came out. “Your
cousin Thing called.”
“You mean Thane?”
“Yeah, that's what I said. He
needs to talk to you 'bout something
important. He wants you to come over to
his house right away.” He scrambled to
his feet.
She held in a groan. Thane was a
fellow Senior at school and a nice
enough guy, though a bit high strung. He
discovered a lost letter in his late uncle's
trunk that her mother had written when
she was pregnant with her. Her father,
Thane’s uncle, died before telling
anyone he was a new dad, so nobody in
Thane’s— and now her—family knew
she even existed until three days ago.
The last couple of days had been
hell for her with Thane following her
around asking a million questions to 'get
to know her better'. They’d had casual
conversations in the past, usually
homework related, but now he wouldn’t
shut up. She couldn't take it anymore.
“I'm sure whatever he wants to
talk about can wait until Monday.” She
pushed past her door and headed to her
desk to pull out her Trigonometry
homework.
“But,” Danny said as he barged
in. “He told me he'd give me ten bucks if
I get you to go over there.”
She stopped. “He did?” How
badly did he want to know about her
childhood pets, or where she went on
vacation?
“Yeah, so go.”
Sitting in her chair, she looked
him over from head to toe. For once, he
might be useful to her. “Is Garren going
to be there?”
“Who?”
“Never mind.” She twisted the
wide leather bracelet that never left her
right wrist as she thought. “Tell you
what. I'll go if you donate Thane's bribe
money to the New Rug Fund.”
“What?” His voice screeched out
a high note. His eyes grew so wide that
the whites were visible all around his
irises.
“You're the one who ruined the
rug in the first place, remember?
Besides, do you want to go back to the
orphanage that kept you locked in a cage
like a dog?”
He froze in his step, terror
reflected in his eyes. “I don’t wanna go
back there.”
Mr. McGregor may be son of a
bitch, but at least he treated Danny like a
human being. No cages for werewolves
in his house.
“If we don’t come up with
$5,000 soon, we’re both outta here.”
His shoulders sagged as he
dropped his gaze to the floor. “Fine.”
She grabbed her hoodie and
skateboard. “You should've asked for
twenty.”
“Hey, Ivy?”
She stopped with her hand on the
doorknob and waited.
“If you have a cousin, does that
mean you're going to move out and live
with him now?”
Her heart cracked at the tremor
in his voice. “I'm not going anywhere.”
He smiled.
“All right, out. I have to go earn
our first ten dollars. Only $4,990 to go.”
She set her shoulders to brace herself for
a boring evening of interrogation and
dragged herself out of the house to visit
her new family.
Chapter 2
“You want me to do
what
?” Ivy
asked. The first place Wizard Martial
Arts trophy she had been admiring
slipped through her fingers and fell to
the floor. The clank echoed throughout
Thane and Garren's bedroom as it hit the
hardwood.
“Kiss— Prince— Sebastian,”
Thane said as he leaned back in his
chair, the wood creaking in protest.
Green eyes peered through wisps of
blond hair, accentuating the soft contours
of his choir boy face. He was every
mother’s dream for her little girl;
respectable, handsome and totally non-
threatening. But that wholesome, All-
American-Kid persona he had going on
was an act. Something sick and twisted
lurked beneath the surface.
She thought he wanted to discuss
family trees, not disgust the hell out of
her. The very idea was... was... just
gross. On top of that, he had the nerve to
roll his eyes at her. Her! She wasn't the
one who had lost her mind.
Garren,
Thane's
stepbrother,
listened to the conversation from his
bed. He sauntered over to her, picked up
the dented trophy and placed it back on
the shelf. He was the polar opposite of
her cousin in every way. Arresting blue
eyes, with the power to make otherwise
intelligent teenage girls abandon all
common sense, peeked out from behind
locks of black hair. Add his sharp facial
features and muscular build, he was who
the daughters drooled over.
One hand still on the ledge above
her shoulder, he leaned in and flashed a
cocky smile. “You should do it, Ivy. It
might be the only chance you get to kiss
a guy.”
She bit the inside of her cheek to
keep herself from responding to his
childish jibe. She didn't like him being
so close, afraid he'd see the bruises she
tried to hide under her curly hair. After a
brief stare-down, he turned and flopped
down on his unmade bed. His cheap
cologne lingered in the air, tickling her
nose.
She backed up into the wall and
crossed her arms over her chest,
obscuring the band logo displayed
across her baggy, black t-shirt. She eyed
each boy warily. “Is this a joke?
Because if it is—”
“No, no.” Thane threw his hands
up in surrender, shaking his head.
Her narrowed eyes regarded
Garren, the boy who'd been the bane of
her existence since she arrived in the
small Alaska town. This could be one of
his practical jokes.
But Thane wasn't the type to
tease people. On the contrary, being
smart and a bit socially awkward, he
was picked on quite a bit. He wouldn't
go along with his stepbrother, would he?
She turned to her cousin. “But
Prince Sebastian's been dead for
two
hundred
years
.
That's
disgusting,
immoral, and I'm pretty sure illegal.”