Mother May I (Knight Games Book 4) (18 page)

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Authors: Genevieve Jack

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BOOK: Mother May I (Knight Games Book 4)
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“Hey!” I said. “There’s no need to be rude.”

Rick glared at Logan.

“Oh, come on. This is not the time to needlessly defend your virtue, Grateful. We all know you’re a good person, but this is life or death, sink or swim. You can’t afford to be wrong about this. We need to get a witch in the bag, maybe two if someone doesn’t step up.” Logan pointed an eyebrow at Rick.

A growl emanated from Rick’s chest, and the slightest bit of fang flashed between his lips.

I wagged a finger at Logan’s face. “Said by the one person at this table who has nothing to lose if he goes home now! Back off. Rick’s right. You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. We try to win her over first. If she refuses, we knock her over the head and tie her up.”

A waitress passed by our table at “tie her up” and scowled over her shoulder at us. She approached our waitress behind the counter and started whispering in her ear. I took a sip of my coffee.

Polina nodded her head and lowered her voice. “Sounds like we have plan B.”

A few moments later, our waitress came by with a pot of coffee in one hand and our bill in the other. She was heavyset, in her fifties, and I got the definite impression that if any of us stepped out of line, the coffee pot would be used as a weapon. “You need more coffee, or are you ready for the bill?” she asked briskly.

Logan snatched the piece of paper from her hand, and she strolled away. “So, I guess this human with nothing to lose is good enough to pay the bill?”

“Logan…” I started. My mouth dropped open. What could I say? He was right. No matter how hard I tried to keep him out of danger, I always ended up luring him right back into it. We were using him, and I couldn’t stop, no matter how wrong it was. I needed him.

“No, Grateful, I get it. Polina here has made it clear multiple times that I’m the lesser species to be used as you witches see fit. This isn’t my first time on this merry-go-round. Tabetha broke me in, remember? I’ll pay the bill, then I’ll go back to my motel room and wait for my mother’s ghost to tell me how to fix your boyfriend. Why? Because we’re friends… Oh wait, friends are equals, aren’t they? But then, it’s just my life on the line.” He slammed a few bills onto the table and stormed out the door.

Polina’s eyes darted between Rick and me. “Was it something I said?”

Chapter 22

Valentine

“L
ogan!” I ran after him through the pebble parking lot and toward the motel, leaving Rick and Polina to sort out the bill. I caught up with him in the middle of the street and jogged to keep pace. “I’m sorry.”

“You know, I thought I owed you this after everything that happened with Tabetha. You saved my life. I love you, Grateful.”

That stopped me in my tracks. He stopped too and rolled his eyes. “Not like that. Not like you and Rick. Like family. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I feel responsible for you.”

“I feel that too. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to put you at risk.”

He took a deep breath. His hands found his hips and he gave me a short shrug. “Good. Then don’t prolong this, Grateful. Tonight, try it your way, but if this witch won’t listen to reason, take her.”

I stared at him for a beat, then nodded. “Understood.”

“Come on,” he said, motioning toward the motel with his head.

I glanced back at the restaurant. “Where are we going? I should probably wait for the others.”

“No. We need to be alone. Every time my mother has helped me with something concerning you, we’ve been alone. The first time was in my apartment. The second, in your basement. During the whole thing with Tabetha? Not a word from her. I think Polina and Rick are messing with my reception.”

I scrambled up the rickety metal stairs and followed him into his room. He closed and locked the door behind us, then pulled the drapes on the window. We stood in the dark for a second while he fidgeted with the brass lamp next to the bed. It glowed to dusty-ecru life beside us.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Have a seat on the bed.”

I tipped my head to the side in question. Logan and I did have a romantic past, but I was not interested in going back there. I believed him when he said he didn’t love me in that way, but still, he was a guy.

“Relax, Grateful,” he said with annoyance. “Sit in the chair if you’d like. I simply need you to be quietly present while I do this. I think. I mean, I don’t actually know, but it seems plausible.”

I plunked down in the cracked vinyl chair in the corner. He took the bed, kicking off his shoes and sitting cross-legged on the mauve-and-mint comforter. He threaded his fingers together and rested his eyes on his clasped hands.

“What now?” I asked.

He shushed me. We sat in silence. I tapped my thumb on my thigh. Crossed my legs. Uncrossed them. Stretched my legs out and rolled my ankles. Cracked my neck. Tried to work out the words to an old song I liked in my head. Was it a diamond in the flame? A diamond in a flash? Something about bloodstains. Damn, I wish my phone wasn’t dead. This was going to drive me crazy.

Are you okay?
Rick’s voice rang through my head, and I turned my face toward the door, mouth going slack.

I closed it before answering him in my head.
Fine. Trying something. Meet you back at the room.

His footsteps passed the door, breaking the light through the crack underneath.

“It wasn’t an angel,” Logan said suddenly. Only his voice was an old woman’s. His mother’s. Logan was channeling his mother.

“What?” I looked back at him. His skin had gone pale, and his eyes were vacant like he wasn’t even in his body. “Logan?”

“Your caretaker
is
missing his elemental magic, but it was not an angel who gave it to him, and it is not an angel who can heal him. Angels can’t interfere. An angel did not help your caretaker,” the woman’s voice said through Logan’s lips. It was like watching a badly dubbed movie. At times Logan’s mouth didn’t seem to form the words fully, acting more as an amplifier than actually producing the sound. In fact, his entire form appeared stiff and catatonic.

My face tightened with concern for my friend, and I hastened to get what I needed quickly. “Then what or who was it?”

“I do not know.”

“Bullshit. The creature who helped Rick was made of light! Where else but the beyond do things exist that are made of light?”

“If you swear at me, I will leave and never help you again, despite my son’s affection for you.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Mrs. Valentine, please. I need your help. What could have finished the spell and given Rick his elemental power?”

“Apology accepted. Whatever it was, it was not from the beyond. If what you say is true, the light came from somewhere else. Light requires power. Follow the power. What power was there that day?”

I frowned. “Only
The
Book of Flesh and Bone.
Reverend Monk bound me to my body with it. It cursed his parishioners and opened the hellmouth. But that book comes from darkness… the Devil. It was given to Reverend Monk by demons.”

“A demon could appear as a reflection of light. Some are quite crafty.”

Biting my lip, I shook my head. “It doesn’t make any sense. Why would a demon give Rick power? I know what I saw. This creature helped Rick. I was dead. If it was a demon, why didn’t he destroy Rick so I could never come back?”

“A smart witch might have predicted the attack.”

“Right.” I leaned back in my chair, thinking. I needed my grimoire or the copy of the spells I kept in a database on my phone, but
The
Book of Light
was thousands of miles away, and my phone was both out of juice and dripping seawater. Still, there were a few things I remembered. “I readied the caretaker spell long before I used it. I might have had a booby trap to use a demon’s power to my advantage.”

“More plausible than an angel. One more thing,” Mrs. Valentine said. Her voice had grown hoarse and soft. “Tell my son he’ll soon be given a choice, and I…” Her voice faded away into oblivion.

Logan’s body pitched forward, and he landed on his face on the bed. “Logan!” I rushed to his side and helped him roll onto his back. He moaned in pain as I straightened his stiff limbs. I slapped his cheek lightly. “Are you okay?”

“Nothing a shot of tequila won’t cure,” he said. “Did I pass out?”

“You just fell on your face.”

“Damn, sorry it didn’t work.”

“But it did!” I said, surprised he had no memory of being possessed. Every other time he’d acted as a medium he’d relayed messages from his mother and was included in the conversation. “You channeled your mom!”

“Huh?”

“I could hear
her
voice coming out of your mouth,” I said, poking him in the chest.

He rubbed the top of his head. “What did she say?”

I stepped over to the window and pulled back the drapes. It was raining again. Nice. “She said it wasn’t an angel who gave Rick his elemental magic. She told me to follow the power.”

“What power?”

“I think she meant the power that bound me. Reverend Monk used a book given to him by a demon to bind me to my body. He had to. I could have become a mist or transfigured into a bird and escaped being burned alive if he hadn’t.”

“Wait, can you do that? The mist thing?”

“Not now, but according to my grimoire I could at one time.”

“Whoa.”

I had so much to learn about being a witch. “The power of the book came from hell, which means it may have been a demon or the big bad himself who gave Rick his power.”

Logan sat up, eyebrows knit. “Wait. Your job is to send evil supernatural beings back to hell. Your cemetery is basically a containment cell for escapees from hell. Why would a being from hell help you or Rick?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea. It’s possible the demon did not intend to help Rick. I might have set a magical booby trap that drew on the demon’s power without its knowledge. It’s the only explanation. Hecate guards the door to the underworld. I help her do that. No one gets in or out without her permission. I can’t fathom why a demon or the Devil would want to strengthen the gatekeepers.”

“If it was a trap, how do we lure a demon into it again?”

I shook my head. “No idea. Replicated demon magic is well out of my realm of experience.”

“Which means you can’t fix Rick.” Logan took unreasonable interest in his shoes.

“And we need to find two witches, not one. Rick won’t work as the earth element in the spell.”

“Fuck.”

“I know.” I looked at my watch, feeling overwhelmed. “Get some rest. It could get ugly tonight.”

“Do or die,” he said through a forced smile.

“You don’t have to come,” I said seriously. “In fact, now that we know about Rick, there’s no reason for you to stay. You could go back.”

He shook his head and laughed through his nose. “Shut up, Grateful. Go sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Mildly offended, I slipped out the door and made the short walk down the outdoor corridor to the room I shared with Rick. He was already in bed, eyes closed, although I could tell he was awake. The blankets were pulled halfway up his bare chest. As exhausted as I was, I yearned to explore everything under the covers.

“Then do it,” he said before opening his eyes. He flashed a mischievous grin.

I blushed. “I’m exhausted, and I desperately need a shower.” I tangled my fingers together in front of my hips. I needed to tell him he wouldn’t work in the spell but was worried how he’d take the news.

“I know,” he said, face falling. “Since we made love, I hear everything in your head.”

“So, you know that I might not be able to restore your magic.”

“And as a result there is likely no hope of restoring my memory.” He cradled his head in the web of his fingers and stared at the ceiling.

I bit my lower lip. “I’m sorry.” I searched our connection, but his feelings were a senseless jumble. I took a step toward the bed.

All at once, he sat up and tossed the covers back, revealing that he was, in fact, naked. My mind went blank, and all my blood rushed south.

“I don’t need my memory to know that I want you,” Rick said, approaching me with slow, even steps. “I don’t need to remember how we got here for me to know that I made the journey. What we have is true.” He reached out and cradled my face in his hands. “I don’t need the past to know I want a future with you. I’m falling in love with you, Grateful, and it has nothing to do with who you were and everything to do with who we are.”

Beguiled, I tried to reciprocate the sentiment but failed. All I could do was part my lips and give a sweet-Jesus-this-can’t-be-happening sigh. His thumb caressed my bottom lip, his eyes fixed on my mouth. He was close enough for me to feel the heat from his body, and I became aware my chest was rising and falling faster than normal. “I love you,” I finally said, breathless. “I’ve always loved you.”

I fell into him, meeting his lips with my own. His weight pitched into me, and it was the most natural thing to let him back me against the wall, hard. His hand and my back took the brunt of the impact. I hitched one leg over his hip, and he ground into me, the length of him pressing into my jeans.

Rick grabbed my wrists and thrust my hands above my head. My shirt and bra were off and tossed to the floor in a heartbeat. His mouth trailed down my neck to worship one breast, and the backs of his knuckles grazed my belly on his way to the button of my jeans. I lowered my leg and shimmied my pants off, kicking them aside. I panted between kisses, my arms tangled around Rick’s neck and head as if I could wrap myself completely around him. The need was undeniable. A hunger, an itch I had to scratch, had settled at my core and would not be denied.

Elbows braced on his shoulders, I wrapped one leg over his hip and climbed his body. He balanced my movement like it was choreographed, gripping me under the ass and entering me. Both feet off the floor and pressed into him in every possible way, my back hit the wall again as he began to thrust in earnest. I groaned, absorbing the impact with abandon.

A piece of drywall came free and fell across my shoulder. “Rick,” I whispered. He didn’t miss a beat. Pivoting, he carried me to the edge of the bed and lowered me to the mattress. He coaxed one of my legs to his shoulder and I gasped as he drove deeper. Arching my back, I supported myself on my elbows. He took the opportunity to graze my nipple with his teeth.

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