Something Wicked (8 page)

"Say, Iz," Tara said, her voice dripped with
scorn. "Shouldn't you be working on something?"

I gulped down the fry in my mouth. "This morning. I did
some work this morning."

She raised her eyebrows. "Really?

"Any changes?" I asked, whatever hope I had left
faded at her scowl.

She shook her head and motioned to the bar. I excused myself
from the table. Danny got up to let me out, and the bare skin of my legs once
again ripped along the vinyl booth. I made a mental note to wear long pants
next time. He smiled as I squeezed past him, the front of my body brushing up
against his. But there was no spark of electricity as we touched, and my mind
flashed quickly to my morning fantasy of Finn in Diana's Pool.

Tara gripped my elbow and barreled through the crowd to the
ladies room. She shoved me inside and shut the door behind her. I wrinkled my
nose at the smell of beer and pee, and noticed that my Converse stuck to the
floor. My hands itched to clean the place.

With the door closed, the sound of the music muted. Tara
leaned against the door.

"So?" I asked, biting my lower lip. "What
happened?"

"What happened?" Tara repeated, opening her eyes
wider. "What happened was nothing. Nothing happened. Nada zilch."

"But the new spell," I stammered. "I tried a
new spell this morning."

"Your new spell is clearly as shitty as your old
spell."

My body went cold. "That's not possible..."

Tara moved closer, getting right in my face. "I don't
exist to him. I just saw him, and he barely looked at me!"

I tried to shrink back but I was trapped between her and the
door. "Maybe he's just...shy?"

She poked at my chest. "Try harder, little witch. Try.
Harder."

She shoved me aside and walked out the door. I leaned
against the bathroom sink, my body shaking with I don't know what. Fear? No, it
wasn't fear. I glanced at myself in the mirror, and when I caught sight of my
expression I realized that it was rage. Rage.

It was also beer.

I swung the bathroom door open and marched back into the
bar. The music was pounding, the beat was solid. I cracked my knuckles as I
walked—no, make that strutted—to the table. Tonight I would prove that bitch
wrong once and for all. Tara was going to fall in love, dammit, if it was the
last thing I did. Clearly the solo work wasn't strong enough. The book said it
wasn't the best way to work spells. It was time for a partner.

With a laser focus on Danny, I sidled up to the booth, took
the beer from his hands, and drained it.

"Dance with me," I said, slamming the plastic cup
down on the table so it crumbled. The dregs of the beer splashed all over my
arm. Without losing eye contact with him, I licked the beer off my forearm. His
eyes widened for a minute and then he jumped up and lead me to the dance floor.

We started grooving to some electronica, and he yelled over
the music. "So, about earlier today. I just want to apologize."

"For what?" I asked, swaying to the song.
"You were just doing your job. I get it."

He looked relieved. "Yeah, but I guess you already had
some big debts to pay down. I just feel bad about dropping something else in
your lap."

I shrugged. "It's what it is. Grams left me my
childhood home, and a whole lot of IOUs. I'm still trying to sort it all."

"Was she putting you through school?" he asked. I
looked at him, puzzled. "I mean, the debt. Was that paying for school?"

"School? No, I clean frat houses, that's how I am
paying my way through school."

It took about five seconds for his face to drop. "Oh
wow. Izzy. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

I nodded, still swaying to the music.

"I'm sorry," he continued. "I just...I
treated you like crap. And I'm sorry."

"No," I corrected him. "You just never
treated me like I was human."

He looked like he was about to argue but then he stopped.
"Fair enough. Going forward, that will change."

I shrugged. "I am more than okay with you ignoring me.
No big deal."

"There's no way I could ignore you," he said,
grabbing my hand. "So if not college, was your grandmother sick? Did you
have to pay down medical bills or something?"

"Grams wasn't sick," I said, the alcohol fueling
my honesty. "She used that money to look for my mother. Grams died from a
broken heart when she couldn't find her."

"Oh," he said, his expression changing.

"Don't do that," I ordered.

"Do what?" he asked.

"You're giving me the pity look. I hate the pity
look," I said. "My mom ran out on me when I was young to join a cult.
Grams never got over it. I did."

"I'm sorry about the pity look," he said, kissing
my hand. "How about I undress you with my eyes instead?"

He winked. That got a laugh of me.

It takes a certain sort of DJ to segue from pure bass
pumping electronica to Led Zeppelin's "Whole Lot of Love." Fueled by
beer and sheer determination, I embraced my inner seductress and attempted to
sexy-dance with my budding paramour. He placed one hand confidently on my hip
and guided me closer, our pelvis's edging together with the song's rhythm.

Dipping his head towards me, his lips brushed softly against
my ear as he whispered, "This is nice."

I smiled brightly at him, wishing I brought a beer with me.
Nice. Yes, I suppose it
was
nice. For a guy who was stealing my house
out from under me, he was terribly nice. My tummy was full, I had a good buzz
going. Between the beer and dancing to the throbbing beat of the Zep, my
inhibitions dropped close to zero.

But there were no sparks.

Tara stood at the edge of the dance floor, glaring at me, her
presence an impossibly blonde reminder of the purpose of my flirtation. Time to
buck up and forget about sparks. I closed my eyes, drawing a little closer to
him. His other hand slid around my neck and he ran his fingers gently along my
scalp. I sighed at the feel of soft pressure against the base of my skull.
Sparks or not, that felt really good.

"Nice move, Just Danny," I leaned in and whispered
in his ear, letting my lips linger for a minute around his ear.

I pulled my head back, and he gazed intently into my eyes.
Time stopped, suspending us in that moment just before lips touch for the first
time. With my mind slowing down, I refocused my energy. At my will, my magic
flowed, swirling through my body and filling me up with pure power. I never
felt it do this before.

Encouraged, I focused on Tara and her love spell, willing
her heart's desire to open his heart to her. The spell filled me, rooting
itself in my pelvis. I caught my breath and tumbled forward slightly when I
felt heat build at the delta between my legs.

"Wow, Izzy, your eyes," Danny said, using my
fumble as an excuse to pull me closer. "They're
glowing
."

He snaked his arms around me, and my breasts pressed into
his body. His chest wasn't terribly broad, and for a split second, I wondered
if he weighed less then me. Not sure how I felt about that.

"Focus!" I muttered under my breath, forcing
myself to forget about our weight class and get back into the spell. I needed a
partner for this, and he seemed willing.

His hand fumbled around my waist, finally sliding underneath
my tank top, resting tentatively along my ribcage. He dropped his other hand
from my waist to my ass, giving it a rough squeeze.

Stirring the spell in my head, I tried melt into him, to let
the spell take over. But his grip was so tight on my butt that it could leave a
handprint, and I felt my magic slipping away from me. My back stiffened and I
pressed my hands against his chest trying to push him away, but that only
turned him into a bigger Grabby McGrabberson.

I considered stomping my heel down on his foot. That would
get him to stop. Just as I was about to lift my leg, a firm hand landed on my
shoulder and wedged the two of us apart.

"I said, get the fuck off of Isadora," a familiar
voice boomed over the music. Before I could look up to see my liberator, a fist
whizzed past my cheek and connected with Danny's nose. Danny jerked back,
falling into a crowd of drunk dancing co-eds behind us, then sprawled on the
floor.

Only when the heroic pugilist grabbed my arm did I finally
get a look at him.

"Finn!" I gasped, attempting to wrench my arm out
of his hand.

"Outside!" he barked at me, dragging me towards
the door.

"Don't manhandle me!" I shot back at him, still
trying to get my arm out of his iron grip.

We stumbled through the door and into the cool late summer
night. He finally released his grip.

I rubbed at my arm. "What the hell is wrong with
you?"

"Are you telling me you wanted that asshole pawing at
you?"

"No," I said. "But I had it under
control."

"Didn't look that way to me," he insisted.

I scowled. He was right. "Well, you didn't have to grab
my arm like that. I didn't do anything wrong."

"No, you didn't," Finn said, his face softening.
"And I'm sorry. I was just worked up."

"I can see that," I said, my beer buzz wearing off
very quickly. "I'm sorry too. I just, I don't know. Got in over my head.
So thank you."

"You're welcome."

We stood there kind of awkwardly for a second, looking at
each other.

Amanda stumbled out of the door. "Finn! What the fuck?
I mean, good job. But what the fuck?"

"Go home, Amanda," Finn said, still staring at me.
"I'll take Izzy."

"Why don't we ask Izzy how she feels about this?"
Amanda said, then adding, "Fucking guys. Think they can talk for a
woman."

"No, it's cool, Amanda," I said. "Finn and I
have some shit to talk about anyway."

"If it's house business..." Amanda started, but
Finn interrupted her.

"It's about money, and that lousy loan hanging over her
head," he said.

My mouth dropped open.

Amanda shrugged. "Fair enough. I'll see you guys later
then."

I watched Amanda walk to her car. When she was out of earshot,
I turned to face Finn. "I never told you about that loan."

Finn just nodded. "I know."

"Then how did you know about it?"

 "We'll get to that," he said, cracking a
disarming smile before walking in the direction of the parking lot. "Come
on. Let's get out of here."

I stumbled after him, dropping my eyes from his broad
shoulders to his perfect ass. Without thinking, I reached out. I wanted to
touch it.

Except before I could actually grip his spectacular rear
end, I tripped. And there was nothing but a pile of broken beer bottles to
cushion my crash to the pavement.

CHAPTER TEN

Finn

Rage.

When he saw that douche bag Danny Stevenson with his hands
all over Izzy, his rage was so strong that it soaked everything in his line of
vision in a reddish hue.

Finn was off the clock and came in to find Izzy. He was
ready to lay it all out for her. Why he was at Diana's Pool, what the spell
book meant, how he could help. How he
wanted
to help. It was time. She
needed it. He definitely needed it. There was no way his cock could take any
more psychic teasing.

That love spell was a bust, and Izzy needed the power of a
physical connection to force that spell to work. It wasn't as dire as she
though. The free will thing was a bit of a pain in the ass, but there were ways
around it, if she focused the energy and did it with the right person. She
needed a powerful, experienced witch to work with. Finn fit the bill perfectly.

Fucking that idiot Danny would not get her the desired
outcome.

But there she was, gyrating her hips into him on the dance
floor. Until he got a little too handsy and she realized maybe it wasn't such a
great idea. Then, he wouldn't take no for an answer.

There was no question—Finn intervened, and cold cocked that
asshole across the bar for good measure.

Now he was outside with an intoxicated, and pissed off,
Izzy. Not how he wanted the night to go.

He heard her stumbling behind him as he stalked across the
parking lot to get to his car. Based on the unsteady footfalls coming behind
him, she was more wrecked than she originally let on.

"Great," he muttered to himself. How could he lay
the whole magic thing on her while she was this loaded? He ran the risk of her
not believing him. Or worse. What if she did believe him, but didn't want to do
this with him.

No way. He shook his head, remembering her fantasy at
Diana's Pool. Maybe it was unfair of him to hijack her psyche like that, but
the minute she tried a spell out of his book, they were sexually linked.
Because of this, the minute she slipped into fantasy, he felt it deep inside of
him. He had to have a look. After having psychic sex with her, his body ached
for the real thing.

Instead, he'd probably spend the night holding her hair back
while she threw up cheap beer.

He stopped when he heard the shout of "ow" behind
him.

"Everything okay, Iz?" he called to her without
looking back.

"Not really," she responded. "I think I fell
on glass."

He turned slowly and saw her sitting on the ground under a
streetlight examining her knee. Blood was running down the front of her calf.

"Shit, Izzy," Finn grumbled, heading back towards
her. He squatted down beside her and began angling her knee to see it in the
light.

"Ow!" Izzy giggled, jerking her leg around.

"Ow? I barely touched you!"

"I thought it about it though," she giggled.

"And that's what hurt?" he sighed.

She giggled harder, throwing herself off balance. She
gripped the top of his head to stay upright.

"You're drunk, Iz. And it's not helping the
bleeding."

She looked at her knee in horror. "Oh shit, I'm
bleeding?"

"Yes, you're bleeding."

"Oh my Goddess, Finn. Finn! I'm bleeding!" The
panic in her voice subsided. "Wait, you're not a vampire, are you?"

He chuckled at that one. "No, I am not a vampire. I
promise."

"Too bad," she pouted. "I think vampires are
sexy."

"You watch too many movies," Finn replied roughly.

"I think you're kind of sexy. When you're not being an
asshole," she hiccupped.

"And with that, we should get you to the ER," Finn
began to get up off the ground.

Izzy grabbed Finn by the front of his shirt and yanked him
back down. "Why? We're doing okay right here!"

Finn rubbed his forehead. "Iz, the cut looks deep,
let's get you cleaned up, sewn up, and plied with antibiotics."

"Who will take care of me though?" Izzy pouted.
Finn burst out laughing. "What's so funny?"

As far as pouts go, it was wildly unsuccessful. Women like
Izzy didn't pout, they were too grounded to pull that sort of manipulative
bullshit. Someone like Tara was a natural at it. Izzy, not so much.

"I'm serious, Finn," she went on, blowing her
bangs out of her face. "Stitches hurt like hell, and they'll give me pain
killers and I don't know if you noticed, but I'm a little drunk, and that's
probably not a great idea with pain killers."

"Probably not," Finn agreed, an amused smile
spread slowly. "So what you're saying is, you'd prefer to bleed out in the
parking lot of Huskies?"

Izzy took a minute to process that. "No, I don't think
I want that."

Finn helped her to her feet. She leaned into him and they
ambled to Finn's Jeep. After he buckled her into the seat, she grabbed his
hand, her eyes sincere.

"Will I get a lollipop?" she asked.

It took of all Finn's will power to keep his cock steady. He
tamped down the image of her mouth sucking on a hard stick on his walk to the driver’s
side. Instead, he thought about baseball.

"Yeah, babe," he said, climbing in and starting
the engine. "I promise you'll get a lollipop."