Sinfully Wicked: Magic and Mayhem Universe Read online

  Wicked drove, not really knowing where to go. If she went home or her tattoo shop, Thorne would most probably show up. She wasn’t ready for that. Not only was she devastated, but she was also pissed, and that seriously was a dangerous thing for Wicked and anyone around her. Her magic seemed to go wonky when she was angry. Then again, what was she going to do, let the two-timing Shifter asshole run her out of her home… her shop? With a change of heart, she frowned. “Hell no, he’s not.”

  Seeing a break in traffic, she U-turned and headed home. A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye, and she swiped at it angrily. Within minutes, she was pulling up to her apartment complex. Wicked slammed her car into one of the empty parking spaces, relieved Thorne wasn’t there. He was damn lucky he wasn’t there.

  Rushing up the steps to her apartment, she used her magic to unlock and open the door. Then she slammed it shut when she was inside.

  “What the hell is going on?” Bruce came around the corner, watching as she threw her bag on the table.

  “Don’t start,” Wicked warned, not even looking his way. “I’m not in the mood.”

  “Thorne has been….” Bruce’s voice faded as Wicked turned to glare at him. Unexplained wind blew through the room, and the lights flickered.

  “Don’t mention his name to me.” Wicked’s voice sounded a little possessed, even to her own ears. “And do not contact him.”

  “But—”

  “I swear I will muzzle you.” Wicked narrowed her eyes at her familiar.

  Bruce’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Try me,” Wicked dared him, then headed toward her room. Bruce followed.

  “Listen, I don’t know what happened, but I think that maybe there was a misunderstanding,” Bruce continued, despite her threat. “Thorne’s said… mmm mmm.”

  “You were warned.” Wicked stared at the muzzle that appeared on Bruce.

  Bruce used his own magic to get rid of the muzzle. “Okay, that wasn’t funny and not appreciated.”

  “Let it go, Bruce.” Wicked slammed her bedroom door and just stood staring at it before sinking to her bed.

  “Wicked, come on,” Bruce said on the other side of the door. “It can’t be that bad.”

  Usually Bruce could read her thoughts better than she could read her own, but she blocked him, and obviously, Thorne hadn’t told him anything. Probably feeling too guilty.

  “I’m fine, Bruce,” Wicked called out, then sighed. “I just need a minute.”

  Laying back, she stared at the ceiling, wondering what was so wrong with her that anyone who even came close to caring for her eventually left. Her stomach cramped, her heart hurt, and her throat clogged with tears. Rolling over, she put her face to the quilt on her bed and choked out sobs. She didn’t want Bruce hearing her pain. She didn’t want anyone knowing her pain. She had been so determined about not letting anyone into her heart, but then that shifty-ass Shifter had done just that.

  “Why am I never good enough for anyone?” Her whispered words were mumbled into her bed.

  “You are good enough, always have been,” Bruce’s voice said right next to her. She hadn’t felt him jump up on the bed.

  Turning her head so she could see Bruce, she blinked the tears away. “You have to say that.” Wicked sniffed. “You’re my familiar.”

  “I’m no ordinary familiar, which means I rarely blow smoke up your ass.” Bruce sat regally on her bed looking down at her. “Now tell me what happened, since you’ve blocked me, and I’ll tell you if you’re overreacting. If you’re not, I will help devise a plan to kill Thorne.”

  Wicked rolled her eyes as she put her face back onto the quilt. “No one is killing anyone. I’m fine.”

  “I’ve seen you cry once.” Bruce poked her with his paw. “And that was when you dropped Lenny and thought you broke it. Sometimes I think you care more about that tattoo machine than you do me.”

  “I do,” Wicked said, again her voice muffled.

  “I’m going to let that go because I know your mind isn’t in the right place,” Bruce grumbled. “What happened?”

  Once again, Wicked turned her head to look at Bruce through swollen red eyes. “He was with someone else,” she whispered, and the words, saying them out loud made it more real.

  “I take it that someone else was a female?” When she nodded, Bruce looked away from her, then back. “Who is she?”

  “I don’t know.” Wicked frowned. “I didn’t go up and introduce myself.”

  “Okay, so this could have been anyone,” Bruce said, his voice sounding more promising. “Hell, it could have been his cleaning lady or his… ah… cook maybe.”

  “I’m not sure, but I don’t think people usually run out of their homes to hug their cleaning ladies,” Wicked replied as the visual of Thorne doing just that filled her mind. Jealous, pain and loss swarmed her senses to the point she had to squeeze her eyes shut to will the memory away.

  “Damn.” Bruce’s face scrunched up as he lowered himself down so he could look her in the eyes. “Fuck him. His loss.”

  Slowly, Wicked nodded as she opened her eyes to peer at the only living thing which had ever shown any type of love for her. So he was a cat, but he was still a living, breathing animal. “Yeah,” she whispered. “His loss.”

  But deep inside, she realized that it was also her loss. She really loved Thorne, but she’d be damned if she’d be second to anyone. At least she valued herself more than anyone else, and she did have her pride. It just sucked her pride hurt so damn bad.

  “I could get Fat Bastard and the boys together.” Bruce stared at her from his position on her bed. “All of us together could be strong enough to take down a panther Shifter.”

  Wicked was silent for a few seconds as she glanced at him. “What would you do to him?” she asked, considering it for a split second.

  Bruce thought for a moment, then lifted his paw and extended his sharp claw. “A couple of swipes with this bad boy and he could become a she-panther.” He wiggled his eyes as he sat up and did a few vicious swipes.

  “Sometimes I do love you, Bruce.” Wicked chuckled and sniffed.

  “What’s not to love?” Bruce retracted his claws and laid back down. “I’ve always got your back, Wicked.”

  “Thanks.” She closed her eyes as the knot in her throat started to grow again.

  Chapter 4

  Wicked shot off the bed as loud knocking echoed through her small apartment. Bruce also jumped, not looking so sure of himself once they both realized who was pounding on her door.

  “Wicked!” Thorne’s deep voice carried back to them.

  “He’s got keys,” Bruce whispered as he looked out of her bedroom door. “Why’s he knocking?”

  Wicked sat up and rubbed her face. “Because I changed the locks.”

  “Ah, good thinking.” Bruce nodded, then jumped off the bed. “You going to answer?”

  “No.” Wicked stood and walked out into the kitchen, ignoring the persistent knocking and key rattling going on outside her door. Opening the refrigerator, she grabbed a water, then closed it before leaning against her counter.

  “Dammit, Wicked!” Thorne’s voice was angry. “Open the door. I know you’re in there.”

  “Ah, maybe you should let him in and allow him to explain himself.” Bruce stood as far away from the front door that he could, appearing ready to make a run for it. “He sounds pretty upset.”

  “What happened to making him a she-panther, badass?” Wicked cocked her eyebrow at him as she took a drink of water.

  “Hey, my boys ain’t here,” Bruce defended himself with a whisper. “That was the plan, not me doing it all by myself.”

  “You have one minute to open this door, or I’m knocking it down!” Thorne bellowed, but Wicked continued to lean against the counter.

  “Don’t even!” she bellowed back. “I have nothing to say to you, Thorne. Just leave!” Wicked gave Bruce, whose eyes were as wide as saucers, a nod.

 
; “Ah, wow.” Bruce actually put his paw on his face. “You seriously think that’s going to put Thorne in his place and make him leave?”

  Wicked actually didn’t know what to do. Her insides shook so hard she was having a difficult time keeping the water down. Just hearing his voice had her fighting herself not to open the door for him. She may look calm and cool on the outside, but on the inside, it was a whole different story.

  “He can’t break through the door.” Wicked shrugged. “My magic made damn sure of that.”

  Just as she said those words, the door splintered with a loud bang and Thorne was in her apartment, his eyes shooting fire right at her. Bruce screamed like a girl, his fur standing straight up.

  “How did you…?” Wicked had dropped her water bottle as she stared wide-eyed at her shattered door and the man who’d shattered it.

  “Bruce.” Thorne nodded toward her familiar, who was still wide-eyed with fear as he grasped Wicked’s arm, taking her toward her bedroom.

  “Thor… Thor…” Bruce cleared his throat like he had a hairball. “Thorne,” he finally got out and gave him a shaky nod.

  “Let me go!” Wicked tried to pull away but couldn’t. She also cursed because his touch set her soul on fire. Dammit! “Who do you think you are?”

  Thorne gently shoved her inside and then slammed the door. “What in the hell was that all about?”

  This time Wicked’s eyes rounded before narrowing. “You’re asking me?” She snorted, crossing her arms over her chest just to keep control and not zap him into next week.

  “Yes,” Thorne replied, his eyes searching hers. “I am.”

  Okay, he wanted to play this card? She’d play, even if it shattered the rest of her broken heart. “Who’s the woman?”

  Thorne frowned, his eyes narrowed. “You trust me so little?”

  That question threw her a little, but not for long. “I trust my own eyes.”

  “I’d rethink that.” Thorne gave a sarcastic snort. “What have I done for you not to trust me, Wicked? Name one thing?”

  Dammit, why were his questions stumping her? Her mind whirled, trying to think, but there was nothing, absolutely nothing she could answer with. So she went with what she knew was the truth. “Trust is hard to come by for me, Thorne.”

  Seeing the hurt flash in his eyes made her want to pull the words back, but it was too late. They were out, hanging between them like a wedge pushing them further apart.

  “I see.” Thorne finally broke the silence. “For anyone who hurt you in the past, I’m being held by that standard?”

  “Why haven’t you answered my question?” Wicked didn’t want to answer his. It made her feel callous because her answer would be maybe. Maybe she was holding him by the same standards as she had the others in her life who’d hurt her. There was a part of her waiting for him to do the same. Did that make her an unfeeling bitch or just a guarded bitch?

  “And I don’t plan on it.” Thorne took a step toward her as he stared down into her eyes. “If you don’t know by now that I would lay down my life for you, that I love you more than anything in this world… then my answering your question isn’t going to change anything.”

  They stood there staring at each other for what seemed like forever until he stepped back then turned toward the door and opened it. He looked over his shoulder at her.

  Inside, she was begging him not to leave, but the words would not leave her mouth. While he’d explained why it was pointless to answer her question, all it would take from him were those words of who the woman was to reassure her. But he refused to do that, refused to answer. It was a simple question. “Why?” Tension pulled at her chest.

  “Why, what?” Thorne asked as he slowly turned toward her.

  “Why won’t you answer the question?” She could hear the emotion in her voice and knew he could also. “Who is she, Thorne?”

  In one stride, he was in front of her. He took her in his arms and kissed her hard. He let her go. “When you realize I love you and when I’ve gained your trust, I will answer that question, Wicked. But not before. You know where I’ll be.”

  She watched as he walked out the door, shutting it softly behind him. “I love you,” she whispered as a single tear streaked down her face.

  “You okay?” Bruce said from the other side of the door.

  “No.” She shook her head. She was far from being okay.

  Chapter 5

  Wicked sat in her tattoo shop yawning for the hundredth time. She was exhausted and had already downed two pots of strong coffee. She was not in the mood to tattoo, and that was saying something. She sat up thinking all night after Thorne had left.

  As much as it pained her, he was right about one thing. She held him at the same standards of everyone who had shown her any tiny amount of love, just waiting for him to hurt her. She expected it, and how sad as well as depressing was that?

  Now she didn’t know what to do. Glancing at her phone, she wanted to call Zelda, but she stopped herself from doing that. Hearing her door open, she glanced up to see Zelda walk into her shop. Okay, that was just strange.

  “Hey.” Wicked frowned as she stood and walked around the desk.

  Zelda cocked her eyebrow at her. “Ah, okay. I guess hey is better than what I thought I would find.”

  “What?” Wicked had no clue what Zelda was talking about.

  “Wicked, where’s that cream? I think I’ve licked my balls raaaw— Oh, ah, Zelda or ah, Shifter Wanker, ma’am,” Bruce said, embarrassed. Wicked watched on in amusement. It was rare for Bruce to be embarrassed and it was hilarious. “Didn’t know you were here.” He tossed Wicked a nasty look.

  “Bruce.” Zelda’s lips trembled, clearly trying not to laugh. “I can, ah, help you with that.”

  Bruce actually squeaked. “Oh, ha! I was just messing with Wicked. I, um, will leave you two now… and go play in fucking traffic.” While the last was whispered, they both heard him and chuckled.

  Once he was gone, Zelda looked back at Wicked. “So why aren’t you in your bed crying your eyes out while binge-watching Netflix and eating pounds of ice cream?”

  “Because… I have to work.” Wicked glanced away from Zelda. “Why would I be—”

  “Oh, cut the shit, Wicked.” Zelda tossed her expensive bag on the counter. “Mac had to leave in the middle of the night to drag a very drunk panther Shifter out of a bar.”

  “Thorne?” Wicked gasped.

  “You know any other panther Shifters in the area? Yes, Thorne.” Zelda walked around, checking out her shop. “So I’ve heard his side of the story. What’s yours?”

  “I went to his place as soon as I left the diner.” Wicked watched as Zelda bent down and touched Lenny, her tattoo machine. “And I saw him rush out of his house to a woman who was getting out of a car. He hugged her and—”

  “Kissed her?” Zelda looked up from Lenny to stare at Wicked.

  “Well, no.” Wicked frowned, biting her bottom lip. “But he… you know.”

  Zelda straightened and continued to stare at Wicked. “Actually, no, I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.”

  “He cupped her face. He was excited, seemed really happy to see her, whoever she is,” Wicked said, not liking the way she sounded now that she was telling Zelda.

  “Maybe like someone would be with, oh, I don’t know, his sister?” Zelda added, staring at Wicked.

  She felt the blood leave her face. “Sister?” Wicked whispered, feeling both horrified and hopeful all in one big emotional surge.

  “Yes, Wicked.” Zelda frowned at her. “His sister. Jealousy does not look good on you.”

  “Oh, Goddess.” Wicked stumbled back, then sat down hard on her tattooing stool. “His sister.”

  “The more you say it isn’t going to change it,” Zelda replied. She sighed. “Honey, that man is so in love with you and for you not to see that is alarming.”

  Feeling as if she needed to defend herself, Wicked tilted her head with narrowed eyes
. “So if you saw Mac run to a woman and hug her you’d be okay with that?”

  “Yes, I would.” Zelda didn’t hesitate in her answer. “Because I trust him, and I know he loves me. Can you seriously sit there and tell me that you don’t see how much that man loves you?”

  Embarrassed, Wicked wanted to disappear. Instead, she looked away from Zelda. It was hard to face someone you respected so much with your flaws blaring out for them to see.

  “Anyone who has ever shown me any kind of love, if you can even call it that, disappears from my life.” Wicked hated the pity that carried her words.

  “Disappear?” This time Zelda frowned. “As in missing person or—”

  “No. As in, I’m not good enough.” Wicked stood up quickly, feeling a little angry, but she didn’t know why. “Listen, I have never thrown a pity party for myself, but I have guarded my heart. It’s been broken one too many times.”

  “Wicked, I know very little about your past.” Zelda touched her arm with a sad smile. “But that is your past. Leave it there. This is the present, and the man Mac dragged out of that bar last night is your future. You are more than worthy of love. Everyone is. Sometimes you just have to take the chance of a broken heart in order to find the cure to mend it.”

  Never in her life did Wicked believe someone could hold so many tears. Last night, she’d thought she had shed them all, but Zelda’s heartfelt words sent them flowing again. Zelda clicked her tongue and took Wicked into her arms.

  “You’re special, Wicked.” Zelda gave her a tight squeeze. “And only those who matter know it, see it.”

  “Thank you,” Wicked said and meant it with all her heart. Zelda’s genuine kindness touched her deeply. She’d never received such compassion; instead, she was more familiar with pretty tainted words given by those who used her.

  Both women glanced toward the doorway where sniffling could be heard. There stood Bruce with the most pitiful look on his furry face, his round eyes filled with tears. “Fuck me, but that was the ‘Hallmark movie of the week’ worthy.”