Wicked Heat: Book 1 (Lick of Fire) Page 9

  He whispered, “Food’s safe to eat, right?”

  “Ain’t nobody ever got sick from my cooking,” Roseline responded. “Now, do the honors with the drinks.”

  Despite the stiffness in Ryder’s posture as he poured rum into three glasses, I couldn’t feel more relaxed.

  “To welcomed company,” Roseline said, then she raised her glass.

  “To heartwarming food,” I added, and we both stared at Ryder.

  With glass lifted, he hesitated at first, then said, “To finding true love.”

  Roseline chuckled loudly, her chins jiggling. “Boy, knew ya had a pure soul. Now let’s drink.”

  Ryder arched a brow, and I adored that while he didn’t bless the dishes or guest, he revealed his own wish. I nudged him to down his rum.

  Without a word, Roseline scooped four heaped spoonfuls of potato salad onto my gumbo, and she wasn’t kidding about fattening me. I dug in, the spicy chilli dish burning my mouth, but I couldn’t get enough. The spice didn’t bother Ryder, but then again he always ordered the hottest flavor wings from takeout.

  “So, how’d you two meet?” he asked before stuffing more food into his mouth, then washing it down with rum.

  “When Sephy came to my doorstep the first time for help with her magic, she reminded me of a drowned rat. Been storming, and she walked half a mile from the bus shelter. I fed and clothed her, and she spent a week with me.” She glanced my way. “Girl, ya now welcome here anytime, ya know?”

  “Sure do, and I love how amazing you were when I was fifteen, lost and confused. Six years later, and you still spoil me. I’ll never forget your kindness.”

  She nodded and ate her meal. There was only the clanging sound of spoons against plates until we finished, then Roseline climbed to her feet. She wiped her hands down her apron. “All right. Join me outside when ya both ready.”

  I lounged back, my belly close to exploding while Ryder spooned more potato salad into his bowl and mixed it with the gravy from the gumbo.

  “It’s good, hey?” I asked.

  “Why haven’t you learned how to cook this dish?”

  “Was about to ask you to make it for me.” I laughed, the calmness of the home caressing me, leaving me feeling like everything in the world was right. And I could sit here with Ryder for a month, eating, chatting, in each other’s company.

  With a final scrape of his spoon across his plate, he finished his meal. “Damn, can’t remember the last time I ate so well. Anyway”—he lowered his voice—“you trust Roseline?”

  “Hell, yeah. No doubts. She saw me at my lowest and never once took advantage, but helped me grow and harness my ability. But she’s a woman who does things by the clock.”

  “Okay, that’s good enough for me.” He got up, and I trailed after him out the kitchen door in the kitchen and into a grassy yard, where the sun shone bright.

  Roseline sat on a chair in front of a wooden table and we took the two seats across her. The candles around a plate of bones had been lit. Despite the light breeze, their golden flames burned upright in a straight line, no flickering, just a tiny wisp of smoke wafting upward.

  Roseline had her eyes closed, and I didn’t need to tell her what I wanted. She’d speak with the spirits in her mind and tell me what was going on.

  She handed me a folded piece of paper. “Payment before I begin.”

  “Payment? We brought you grassy weed, will that do?” Ryder mumbled to himself, yet Roseline didn’t lift her attention from the plate of bones. I took that as a no.

  I leaned back in my seat, unfolding the note. Three items were scribbled in one straight line. But as I read them, I took a deep breath and slid my hand over to Ryder’s.

  “What’s going on?” He stared at me with innocent, wide eyes as I guided us off our seats and back into the house to the sitting room. We stood near the fireplace, and I pressed the note into his palm.

  He scanned the message and a small growl rolled across his chest. “So this is the reason you invited me here?”

  “Come on. You act like it’s a big deal.” I’d give the clothes off my back if it helped Ryder, so I didn’t see the issue here.

  He huffed. “It is. I don’t give out my DNA willy-nilly to any witch I cross paths with. Who knows what she’ll do with it?” He gripped his hips like a petulant child.

  “It’s three simple things. I know you hate the magic folk who always hound you, but I trust Roseline. And she won’t do this unless we pay her.”

  The heat from his skin leaped across. I reached over and took his hand in mine. “Please, Ryder. No one needs to know about this. Our secret.”

  He sighed louder, and his hardened expression softened as he studied me. “And to think, I went to your place to get help and look what you’ve got me doing now. And I still can’t go back to my house.”

  Our fingers intertwined. “We’ll ask Roseline and sort it out. Until then, you can sleep on my couch?” I’d regret my decision, but right now the priority was determining what demonic fiend was after my soul.

  He lifted my knuckles to his hand, and he kissed them.

  “Okay. You ready?” I asked.

  He nodded and started pulling off his T-shirt. Next, he unbuckled his belt while he toed off his boots. Shyness wasn’t his thing, and he’d strip in a shopping complex if needed, but I couldn’t pull my gaze off his rippling muscles, the way his pecs flexed with each small movement. Or the faint line of blond hair tapering down his eight-pack stomach. Sculptured like a god.

  “If you keep staring at me that way, you’ll be losing your clothes in two seconds flat.”

  My cheeks burned at getting caught, and I turned toward the bookshelf. “Okay. Just hurry.”

  The knowing sound of a zipper doing down had me tempted to glance over my shoulder, but I didn’t. I had self-control.

  “Just so you know,” he began, “no one should ever touch a lion’s mane. Now or ever. And take a strand or two off the back where no one will see.”

  I rolled my eyes at his overreaction over a few hairs, but I didn’t say a word and scanned the cluttered shelf with everything but the kitchen sink. A silvery gleam caught my attention, and I grabbed the scissors.

  A roar burst in my ears, and I jumped out of my skin at the sharpness of the sound.

  Ryder stood in his majestic lion form. Massive and intimidating, he hopped up onto the couch, the muscles dancing beneath his coat. He lay across the sofa like a sphinx and his amber eyes locked on me.

  Okay, get this done and hope I didn’t get mauled to death by the giant kitty cat.

  Ryder’s attention followed me as I approached, each breath explosive and misty. Whenever he took his lion form, my brain told me he posed no danger, but my instincts were tighter than an elastic band. I expected him to pounce and rip my throat out as he’d do with a gazelle in the savannah. And I was the hopeless animal standing no chance against this king of the jungle. Though to be honest, I doubted Ryder had ever been to a real jungle and our local forest didn’t count. He’d been born in a suburban house… or more specifically, out the back in a shed. His mother had hidden from the cops searching for a lioness who couldn’t control her transformation after going into labor. Many shifters lived in the city, hiding, concealing their real forms. They kept their jobs, their friends, and had easy access to food. Underground clubs intended for shifters existed though hell knew where they were, as they changed locations every night to avoid being detected. If I were in charge of the world, I’d welcome everyone to live in harmony as one community. Having fucking equality shouldn’t be this difficult.

  I refocused on Ryder. “Now, I’ll only take a small snippet of hair. Okay?”

  He didn’t make a sound but watched me too carefully, and well, I was within striking distance of his knife-like claws. But he’d never attacked me before, and precedent insisted he wouldn’t now.

  I sucked in a deep breath and reached over to the back of his golden mane. Gorgeous. I’d always wanted to hug him
while in lion form, but he insisted controlling his lion wasn’t the easiest thing. The natural instincts lay there underneath, nudging him to be a freakin’ predator. So I bunched a handful of fur and snipped the bundle fast.

  “Right, so now I need two claws cuttings.”

  He grunted, and I didn’t know any cat that liked getting their nails clipped.

  Ryder’s front paw scraped the edge of the sofa’s arm, his claws jutted out, each curled forward with a sharp tip. They dug into the fabric, the tearing sound leaving me cringing.

  “Shit, this isn’t a scratching pole. Seriously. We could end up in a swamp if you destroy her couch.”

  He grunted toward me, and I shook my head.

  “Anyway, you should trim these weapons. Damn, you could decapitate someone with a single swipe.” I pictured myself in that very predicament because accidents happened to even the most well-planned individual.

  With one hand pressed down onto his leg for balance, I placed the scissors next to the first nail and cut through.

  Snap! The claw tip fell across near the fireplace as another enormous paw swatted me in the ass, and I leaped out of reach, rubbing my butt. No torn fabric or blood. Goddammit, that was close.

  “Hey, watch where you fling those things.” I picked up the nail and marched back to Ryder. In two seconds flat, I cut the second nail without giving him a second to think about it.

  “There, done. Wasn’t so bad, hey?”

  Except he had his head lowered in attack mode. The hairs shifted down my arms. What did they say about never showing an animal fear?

  So I squared my shoulders. “You better rein it in or I’ll get all circus trainer on your ass.”

  Ryder released short, sharp growls.

  The third requirement was the hardest thing to collect, so I put down my scissors, figuring I’d go in for the Band-Aid approach. So sauntering to the back of the sofa, I smiled, needing Ryder to soften so his instincts didn’t go cray-cray on me.

  “Have I told you how much I adore lions? How massive and powerful they are. I read that lions have the loudest roar of all animals. You must be pretty proud.”

  I scratched behind his ear. “Why do all cats loved to be stroked?”

  His nose creased, and he huffed, his breath steaming in his face.

  “Okay, okay. You’re a strong, king of the world lion. Better?”

  He responded with a huff and lowered his chin onto his powerful paws.

  “There’s a reason most people fear lions. You are majestic, dangerous, and…”

  He raised his head for me to scratch him there, and I slid my hand down the side of his head. And just as his eyes half-closed, I snatched one of his whiskers and yanked it free.

  Ryder jolted upright so fast, roaring as if someone had stolen his meal.

  I recoiled, holding on to his long stupid whisker that might get me mauled.

  He leaped over the couch, head low, haunches high.

  My heart struck my ribcage, and a cold shiver gripped my spine. “Ryder, don’t do this.” I’d imagined myself dying many ways, but never attacked by a lion. Sweat drenched my skin, and screams rang in my ears. I could call out for Roseline, but then what if she hurt Ryder? Right, because him slashing me in half wasn’t reason enough to fight back.

  The lion prowled nearer, waiting for the precise moment to strike.

  I slid farther across the room until my bum hit the window. I tapped the windowsill for a weapon, anything. My fingers closed around what felt like a wooden twig, and I lifted it. Okay, the stick had to be at least two feet long, and I stared at it and then at the lion. Yep, my life had morphed into a circus, all right.

  “You agreed to this.” I thrust the branch out between us and raised my voice. “Now stop being a dick and transform.”

  But he growled, and I was ready to scream for help. How the freak did someone avoid a lion attack? I wanted to believe this was Ryder being an ass, but I kept remembering his words about the animal side sometimes taking over. Had I pushed my boundaries? My breaths raced, and I imagined myself between his jaws. A cry bubbled in my throat.

  When he rushed toward me, I cried out and bolted past the fireplace.

  But a great weight slammed into my back, sending me sprawling onto my stomach and knocking the breath out of me. A paw pressed down on my head, shoving my face into the rug that stunk of wood shavings and feet.

  An electrical charge prickled over my skin all at once, and the weight on my back eased. When heavy laughter boomed, I bucked Ryder off me and climbed to my feet.

  “You fucking bastard!”

  He kneeled a few steps away, howling with joy. “You should have seen the look on your face. Priceless.”

  10

  Back in Roseline’s yard, I placed the lion ingredients on the table.

  “Thank ya, child.” She collected the items and put them in a bag by her side as if the contents were too precious to sit outside in case they blew away. Sure, lion parts were scarce, but I didn’t for a second believe they’d bring Ryder any harm. Roseline didn’t play that way.

  Ryder slouched next to me, his hooded eyes studying Roseline.

  Roseline poured a glass of rum as a libation to the Loa spirits. She hummed to herself, her eyes closed, and did so for a decent ten minutes. Her body shook—more like vibrated—and sweat dripped down the sides of her face, but that could have been the sun beating down.

  At once, she clapped her hands and her eyes snapped open.

  White as snow, she had no pupils and stared at me so intently my way, she might as well have been peering into my soul. My breath caught in my chest. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen her this way, but it still left me wanting to leave as fast as possible. She’d crossed over into the shadowy corridors between our world and the afterlife.

  Sweat slid down my stomach. Despite all the questions parading in my head about what she saw or heard, they didn’t need voicing. She’d tap into the energies and return with information.

  Roseline screamed, and I leaped up from my seat. Ryder’s fists curled as he moved by my side, ready to fight. Except when Roseline broke into a humming chant, I slowed my breaths and pulled Ryder backward. She’d once told me when she opened her third eye, she always yelled. It helped draw spirits’ attention. Knowing what she did and then experiencing her shouting were two very different things.

  She swayed in her chair, humming but came to an abrupt stop and slammed her hands on the table. That time no jumping for me. Hooray. But breathing was a battle as I swore the air felt like tar, and each inhale left me wheezing.

  Roseline started a conversation in Haitian Creole, and I had zero idea what she said. Not even close to understanding one word, I watched and waited. Next to me, Ryder’s gaze locked on the woman like she were a deer he intended to take down. But then again, the guy stared that way when anything grabbed his attention. He gawked with intensity, and I bet if I stripped right that moment, he wouldn’t notice.

  Her arms flayed about and her voice rose, clear she was in an argument. Her lips peeled upward as she offered some poor spirit sucker a mouthful of verbiage. Better them than me.

  A grunt erupted around us, and I flinched, as did Ryder. Out of the blue, the table between us flew across the yard, tossed into a shrub.

  My pulse sped up, and my muscles froze in place.

  But at once, Roseline bellowed and her palms shot out in front of her in a defensive move.

  Ryder’s gaze swung left and right, fists raised. A wind swirled through my legs, whistling and rustling the surrounding trees.

  Roseline shrieked. The next thing I knew, she flew out of her chair and hit the ground with a thud. Her whimpers plucking at my heart. I darted to her side as her seat lifted into the air.

  Ryder charged toward it, snatching the two front legs and playing tug-o-war with an invisible fiend. His snarls filled the air, and I grabbed Roseline by the arm. Her eyes returned to their usual brown irises.

  “Are you okay? What’
s going on?” I drew her to a sitting position on the lawn, and she clapped once. Loud and deafening.

  The heaviness pressing against me faded, and Ryder stumbled backward with the chair still in his hand but flying over his head from the momentum.

  “I’m good, girl.” Roseline staggered to her feet, and I held her arm, helping her upright.

  “What the fuck was that?” Ryder stormed across the yard, his hair wild and eyes crazier with panic.

  “Relax, lion. This is normal. Some spirts always try to crawl into our world.”

  “Shit, normal? I just fought an invisible creature. I prefer to stare into the eyes of what I’m fighting.”

  I moved to his side and laid a hand on his arm. “We’re okay, Ryder. Should have pre-warned you about that possibly happening.”

  “You think?” He huffed and patted down his scrunched-up top.

  “Do something useful, boy,” Roseline said. “Go bring the rum and three glasses to the sitting room.” She curled an arm around mine and pulled me into a stroll. “We have much to talk about.”

  My stomach turned into a boulder at the tone of her words.

  Inside the house, we had our first round of shots. Roseline sat on the middle of one sofa, hands on her knees, staring at me as if deciding how to broach what the spirits had shared with her. Roseline was a no-nonsense woman, so her hesitation had me perched on the edge of the couch, while Ryder reclined alongside.

  Roseline cleared her throat, and she blurted out, “Sephy, ya’re possessed.” With a moan, she blew out a long breath, and her lips pinched together, clear getting those words out had tested her.

  I broke into a nervous laughter. “That’s not possible, otherwise, I would know or have attacked someone by now. Right?” I looked at both her and Ryder. “Oh, crap! It’s that creature who made me grope my breasts at your place, Ryder.”

  A chill crept up my spine.

  Ryder had his hand on mine.

  My breaths were coming too fast and I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs, so I got to my feet I paced back and forth near the window. “Can’t this be a mistake.”