Authors: Jayde Scott
I'd barely managed to close my eyes and catch some snooze when the presence of a shadow woke me up again. Disoriented, I jumped up and headed for the kitchen in my sleepwear, barely able to resist the sudden urge of pushing some cupcakes into the preheated oven. I was never one to cook in the kitchen. Since I'd pick a microwave any day versus slaving away over a home cooked meal, I knew something was definitely wrong with this picture.
Patricia was already there, moving around at a swift pace.
Sleep-drunken, she barely peered at me as I sat at the kitchen table and rubbed my aching head. A moment later, footsteps thudded down the stairs, and Dallas appeared in the doorway with hooded eyes and his hair in disarray, murmuring, "I want to help roll out the dough."
"Do you know what time it is?" I asked him.
"Can't sleep. Just want to help. So how do we make the batter?"
"This is barbaric," I muttered, fighting the urge to grab a bowl and help Dallas.
"What's happening?" Dallas asked. "I want to cook. I need to cook...to bake...right now."
Patricia stopped only long enough to wipe beads of sweat off her forehead, then resumed her work routine. "The curse is making us a slave to this kitchen and to baking." Her voice came so low I wasn't sure I heard right.
"I'm nobody's slave." I grabbed a bag of flour and poured it into a giant, wooden mixing bowl while Dallas cracked two eggs. My words said I wasn't a slave, yet I was.
"I'm so tired, I need fresh air." Groaning, Dallas moved to the backdoor and yanked it open. A strong gust of wind blew in. The fires sputter. A spiral, like a black veil, whirred around us, hissing in our ears.
"What are you doing?" Patricia yelled. "Close it. Close it now!"
I peered from her furious face to Dallas's dumbfounded expression, then back to her. The wind wafted through the kitchen, blowing out one of the fires.
"Don’t let Prince Rasputin get out." Patricia screamed and made a dash for the door, tripping on a blob of dough on the floor. I hurried to catch her fall, but it was too late. With a thud, she landed on her tummy, her arm hanging out the doorway into the shimmery snow. A deep menacing growl echoed in the darkness behind me. I spun around and met Dallas's eerie black eyes.
"Get him away from me," Patricia screeched.
Like a zombie, Dallas moved forward, reaching her in a few long strides. His face looked like a distorted mask of anger, no longer resembling the charming guy I fell in love with.
"Get him away from me," Patricia screeched.
Like a zombie, Dallas moved forward, reaching her in a few long strides. His face looked like a distorted mask of anger, no longer resembling the charming guy I fell in love with.
"Cass!" Patricia screamed, sliding across the floor into the snow outside.
Dallas let out another growl and lunged at her, grabbing her neck in a deadly grip.
Do something. He's killing her,
Pinky yelled in my ear.
I didn't understand. Why would he do that? Yesterday, it seemed as though they got along like a house on fire, and today they were trying to kill each other. That didn't make any sense.
It's the curse
, Kinky said, coolly.
Surely, you put two and two
together by now.
My brain kicked into motion. I had to come up with a plan, and pronto. I peered around, considering my options. Whacking him over the head with something was out of the question since I still needed my fiancé to marry me. The phone was in my room, so beaming him out of here wasn't an option either.
"Babe, stop it," I yelled. If he could hear me, he didn't respond.
Patricia struggled in his iron grip, pushing against his broad chest, as she gasped for air.
Talking a possessed guy out of his killing ambitions is your plan?
Kinky snorted.
"Obviously not." I closed my eyes and focused on Dallas, calling on my inner powers that had been lying dormant ever since my birth.
The air around me stirred. Excitement washed over me. My breath caught in my throat. For the first time ever, it was working, or so I hoped.
Stop wasting time
, Pinky cried.
Do something, Cass.
Patricia's ear-piercing scream ended in a gurgling sound. Was he strangling her? I pried an eye open, disturbing my concentration. He
was
strangling my aunt, and quite successfully. I watched in horror her eyes turning in their sockets. Enough of my affable nature already. It was time to act.
With a shriek, I jumped on Dallas's back and covered his eyes.
His breath came in short, angry heaps. He turned like a raging bull, trying to shake me off. Clenching my teeth, I held on for dear life. I didn't know how long I could keep my grip on him. Dallas was a big, strong guy. He might throw me off any minute. I'd rather he didn't because from this height it looked like it might be an uncomfortable fall.
"Patty, get inside. Move it!" I shouted.
She made another gurgling sound as she pushed up on her knees and shuffled across the floor toward a kitchen counter, hiding behind it as if that could ward off a raging maniac.
A roar rippled through Dallas's chest. My arms turned to jelly, my whole body ached. I was going to take a tumble any second. And then he stopped struggling. I held my breath, unsure whether he was just bluffing.
"Cass?" His voice was anxious, questioning.
"Yes?"
"What are you doing?"
He was asking
me
what I was doing? "You don't know?"
"I think he's all right now," Patricia whispered.
"I figured that much." Sighing, I jumped off his back but my muscles remained tense just in case he decided to resume his killing.
Patricia appeared from behind the counter and slapped his shoulder. "What the heck's wrong with you? You almost killed me."
He frowned, confused. "What did I do? I just came down for breakfast."
"Leave Dallas alone. He didn't mean it." I rolled my eyes and intertwined my fingers with his. "You should know better than to venture out that door."
"I had to close the door so Prince Rasputin wouldn't run away.
He wouldn't stand a chance outside these doors," Patricia hissed.
"You'd do the same for that dangerous Hell hound you love so much."
Dallas cocked a brow.
"A pit bull," I explained. "And he's a sweetie."
Patricia snorted. "To you. Everyone else hates him. There's no way you'd stand by and watch him die."
"Good point." I loved that dog to death, red eyes and all. "The more reason to sign that scroll so we can get on with that campaign."
She raised her chin defiantly, eyes glinting. "You did it on purpose."
"What?" I laughed. "You think I persuaded my fiancé to kill you so you'd sign my plea. This is ridiculous. You're nuts. All that sugar must've messed with your brain cells."
She regarded me in silence.
"Cass, what's this about?" Dallas asked.
"The curse says I can't leave the house," Patricia said, ignoring him. "I didn't, so your little performance must be part of your scheme to get my approval."
She's not the brightest star, is she?
Kinky said.
Annoyed, I retrieved the scroll from the counter and waved it in Patricia's face. "Switch on your brain, mate. If you can't leave the house, neither can your body parts."
She shook her head. "You're bluffing."
I shrugged. "Let's try it on the first customer then. Hold your arm out of the window."
For a moment, we stared at each other in silence.
"Give me that scroll then," Patricia said, snatching it out of my hands. I could barely breathe as she stretched it on the counter and signed below my handwriting, then handed it back to me. "Promise me you'll do everything in your power to find him. I don’t want to stay here."
Smiling, I nodded. "You have my word."
She grinned back. "Can I have it in writing?"
"What the heck was that all about?" Dallas whispered as he helped me pack our bags to leave again.
"What?" Obviously, I knew what he was talking about, but I'd rather play dumb and stalk for time. Maybe I'd come with a good excuse in the meantime.
"Patty said I tried to kill her."
Laughing, I looked up at him. He towered a foot over me, a frown perched between his brows. I hated to see him upset, and yet knowing the truth would upset him even more. "It was a joke. I told you she's a bit strange. Come on, we need to hurry if we want to catch that train."
He shook his head, unconvinced. "Why would anyone make such a sinister joke?"
"Babe, there's something I didn't tell you." I pulled him on the bed next to me. Our gazes locked. "She's up here on her own because she has an antisocial personality disorder. She really doesn't like people much." I inched closer whispering, "I'm so sorry you had to see this."
"But last night she seemed so social and friendly."
"I know. The mood swings are part of her condition."
"No wonder you couldn't tell me." Dallas pressed me against his chest. I snuggled my head into his shoulder and held up my lips to meet his kiss, my guilt instantly forgotten. Surely Patricia would understand the need for my little, white lie. I mean, how could I possibly be of any help to her tied to Hell like she was bound to this house?
His lips pressed harder onto mine. A spark ran up and down my body, gathering somewhere in the pit of my stomach and wandering up to my heart. I savoured the delicious taste of mint and chocolate as he drew me deeper into our kiss.
"You have no idea how hard this was for me," I whispered eventually against the warmth of his lips.
"I can only imagine."
You're milking it for all it's worth, huh?
Kinky said.
I like your
style.
Clearing my throat, I peeled my lips off Dallas and resumed my packing. "We're meeting Aunt Krista in France."
"I hope she'll like me," Dallas said.
No doubt about that. She'll have him for breakfast
. Kinky laughed. Yep, he might be right about that.
A few hours later we arrived at Nice airport. Our designated driver was already waiting outside the arrivals hall, the silver BMW
barely standing out from the crowd among the countless limousines,
Ferraris
and other luxury rides that wouldn't look out of place at a German auto show.
He bowed deeply and grabbed the bag from Dallas's hand, a leer playing on his lips. There was something strange about him, maybe the way he paraded cockily as though chauffeuring clients for a living was way beneath him. I regarded him from the corner of my eye, only then noticing the two tiny horns peeking from under a mop of black hair. Of course Dad couldn't just arrange for a mortal driver to drive us the few miles to the harbour. He had to send out one of his chaos demons, and an arrogant one at that.
If you pull a stunt on us, I'll send you straight back to Lavardos.
Let's see whether you can take that heat.
My mind focused on him, lest he ignore my threat and pretend it might be intended for someone else.
Hearing my thoughts, he grinned, green eyes sparkling with mischief. I wondered whether I should drive, just in case he decided a bit of fun might be worth Dad's wrath and consequent punishment after all. Come to think of it, Dallas might find my decision to drive strange though, so I decided against it.
"Do you have all you need?" Dallas asked.
I nodded and jumped on the backseat, making room as he joined me. The demon started the engine and pulled out into the heavy traffic. After a few minutes, I relaxed against the cool leather and Dallas's stroking fingers on my arm.
"Want to see the ocean, Princess?" the demon asked.
I laughed and nudged Dallas. "He thinks I'm royalty. Isn't he funny?"
"You look like a princess," Dallas said, pulling me against his chest protectively. He was jealous which was cute because it told me he loved me just as much as I loved him. The knowledge made visiting Aunt Krista almost bearable.
Beaming, I peered out the window at the clear, blue sky and the scantily clad people. The car took a few turns and gained in speed as we drove up a highway. To our right I could already see sparkling water stretching in the distance. A few yachts sailed at a leisurely speed, the people sprawled on the decks enjoying the midday sun.
Half an hour later, the car pulled onto the promenade, almost running over a lamppost. I got out quickly and motioned Dallas to follow.
"It seems your aunt is already waiting," the driver said with a leer. I followed his line of vision to a blonde, busty woman wrapped in flowing chiffon that revealed a little too much, waving from a huge cruise.
"Thank you." I grabbed the bag from the demon's hands and tossed it toward Dallas who caught it in one fluent motion.
The demon hesitated, gaze fixed on my approaching aunt who swayed her generous hips from side to side, ambling at the pace of a turtle. "Want me to get that phone fixed for you?"
"No, thanks. Her phone's working just fine." Dallas leaned into me whispering, "He's hitting on you again."
The demon grinned. "Are you sure? Why didn't she just beam herself here then?"
I was flattered that Dallas thought the guy was into me, but the truth was he stalled for time because he wanted to meet Aunt Krista. I couldn't believe the cheek. Then again, why was I surprised? Every demon in Hell would kill for a date with her.
"The
Star Trek
convention's in New York. If you hurry you might catch the plane on time," Dallas said.
"Go away," I hissed to the demon. "Or need I remind you of Lavardos?"
With a sigh, the chaos demon bowed and jumped onto the driver seat, starting the engine as he shot Aunt Krista a rueful look.
"Come on." I grabbed Dallas's arm and pulled him across the promenade. "We might as well meet her half way, or else she won't reach us before dawn."
"That's your aunt?" Dallas whispered as we stood a few feet away. I nodded, regarding the curvy, heavily tanned figure balancing on six-inch stilettos. He laughed. "Oh, boy."