Twisted Luck Page 8

  Though I’d gotten a glimmer of the plan they’d hatched the night before, I understood clearly how Leo figured into this. The idea made my stomach churn. “I understand.”

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and a door closed. Samuel relaxed and stepped away from me. The change jingled again, this time in a satisfied way that eased my tension. “Good.”

  “But...” Despite my fear, I couldn’t help but test the waters.

  Samuel quirked a brow.

  “You don’t own her soul. Yet.”

  He glanced at the table with a smirk. “It’s just a matter of time.”

  “Here we go,” my mother called from the kitchen. “Samuel, help me get glasses and pop this cork.”

  “Yes, dear.” He shot me a glance in warning before disappearing to do his boyfriend duties.

  Nervous, I toured the table, breathing deep and even to calm my pounding heart. A contract was signed with blood and sealed with a kiss… Somehow, he’d thought of a way to make this wedding at the end of the month her signing point, so to speak. He’d get her to sign off on her soul while she thought she was signing up for marital bliss.

  Adding Leo into the distorted picture meant her whole romantic world would be skewed toward the wrong destiny. It smacked too close to the epicenter of her romantic notions. I couldn’t let that happen. Not at all.

  “Here you go,” Mom said as she handed me a glass. She glanced at the brochure I’d picked up. “Samuel said we could do a destination wedding if I wanted. Somewhere tropical and beautiful. Imagine, being married on a beach…”

  “Oh.” I blinked, and a plan hatched. Mom was frugal, and I was her apple not far from the tree. “I have the perfect thought, Mom. I won a trip to Costa Rica over the weekend. I could cash it in for the wedding.”

  “You did?” Her eyes rounded with excitement as I told her about the trip. “That’s perfect. Oh, I love the idea.”

  “But…you’d have to wait a little for me to cash in on that prize.”

  “Oh.” Her smile fell, and I cursed myself.

  “Waiting isn’t a bad thing, Mom.” I dug into my advertising expertise, trying to find a way to spin this in the best possible direction—away from Samuel. “This has been quite the whirlwind romance. You’ve always loved the romance part, the falling in love, the wining and dining, the discovery phase where you just can’t get enough of that special someone…”

  “Yes…” Mom’s gaze got a little dreamy. “You know I love my romances.” She loved them because they were an escape from the hell her life had been.

  “Waiting another month or two would let you savor that.”

  “True.” One of her manicured fingers tapped on her upper lip as she contemplated the idea.

  Ah, the bait was being nibbled. I dug harder.

  “Plus…” God help me. “Waiting would give me more time to get to know Leo. I don’t want to screw things up by saying this out loud, but I really liked him. A lot.”

  Her brows flew up in growing excitement. She fumbled for my hand, squeezing it tight. “Oh?”

  I have no idea how she was buying this crap. Honestly. Maybe the good luck had settled over her, too. I was cynical and jaded, and I hated men now. She knew this. I’d met Leo once, and we “hit it off” because we had to, not because it was fate or love. But I knew my mom well, and I felt like I was divining pure water from the middle of a thirsty desert of broken dreams.

  That need for romance and escapism had followed us through our years. It was why Mom had a library filled with books with heroines who always found the perfect man. We lugged those boxes from the rusty trailer to a friend’s house while we lived in a shelter for battered women, and then finally, to our first rented home without my father. Later, I hauled those same boxes into her little Cape home on the marsh, one she’d bought all by herself, and placed them on a beautiful shelf in her office.

  My mother loved romance. Only in her mind, the perfect romance also included happiness for me, too.

  When I was little, her favorite story to tell me was about a queen and a princess who battled a dragon together. They fought and were damaged horribly by the flames, but they won. And once they healed, they married a king and prince from another kingdom who saw them for what they were—beautiful people—to live happily ever after. We’d drawn sketches together and had made a little book that I still had in my closet.

  My mom wanted the fairytale to come true. All of it. Samuel was her king, and Leo was my prince. Too bad the faraway kingdom these men ruled was Hell.

  Unfortunately, Samuel knew this, too.

  I dug a little deeper into the lie. “Yeah, Mom, I like him. A lot. I’ve never felt this way before about a guy.” Lying killed me. But I swallowed my pride, because if I didn’t get us out of this… “Maybe if you held off for a few months, or a year… Plan a wedding when it’s not the rainy season in paradise…” Childishly, I crossed my fingers behind my back to cancel out the lie. “We could be one big, happy family.”

  Tears shimmered in her blue eyes, ones that reflected bad memories and her hope for the future. “Oh, Olivia.”

  “Will you ask him to wait? You know he loves you… Waiting shouldn’t be a big deal.”

  “Waiting for what?”

  Of course, Satan had to waltz in right then with a tray of extravagant luncheon products and expensive booze. The smug look on his face diminished as he took in my mother’s teary but happy face. He shot me a death glare of pure evil.

  This good luck thing had better work.

  Mom rose and helped him set down the tray. “Liv and I were discussing waiting to have the wedding.”

  “Waiting?” His deep voice raised an octave as he hid panic behind a forced smile. “I understand this has been fast—”

  “It has, and I’m not having second thoughts. You’re the man I want in my life, Samuel.” She placed her hand on his tight bicep and squeezed. “I’d love to marry you on a beach in Costa Rica. A destination wedding has been my dream since…well…who knows.” She wiped a tear.

  Samuel handed her a clean handkerchief from his pocket in good boyfriend style. “You deserve everything you’ve dreamed of and then some.”

  “God, what did I do to deserve you?” She sniffed deeper, and Samuel drew her close. All I could picture was a spider hugging a fly right before it injected venom.

  I tamped down all of that, though, burying it in my special place that allowed me to be someone else. Again, I thanked my lucky stars for a shitty childhood and a great mother.

  My mom pulled away from Samuel’s arms enough to look up at his handsome face. “Would you wait? Please? I’d love to have us all together as one big, happy family.”

  A flicker of something crossed his handsome expression, and I almost labeled it as fear. Almost. Until he hugged her close and glared at me full force over her head.

  A chill ran over my skin, and I tightened my grip on my growing terror.

  Expression smoothing, Samuel dropped a loving kiss to my mother’s temple and held her close. “Of course I’d wait for you. You don’t know what I’d do to make us one big, happy family.”

  But I knew what he’d do, and now I had made an enemy.

  And it scared the shit out of me.

  Chapter Six

  I was always a good liar. In childhood, my life often depended on the lies I told. Believe me, I’d told a boatload to survive. But my sanity and what little pride I had depended on it, too.

  No way was I admitting to anyone that I came from a broken family, poor, homeless. Oddly, as ashamed as I was to admit it, I’d been grateful for it. Poor and homeless was better than tending my mother’s wounds and hiding from my stepfather’s wrath.

  I sat in my car outside of my apartment, fighting the tears. All I needed was for Mrs. Pendleton to wander out to the parking area and see me crying. She’d practically smothered me with affection and cookies when David had left me. But I couldn’t help it, damn it. I sniffed and dabbed a corner of my eye on an ol
d tissue.

  Lying to my mother about Samuel…it went above and beyond any lie I’d ever told. Sure, I’d lied about little things, like losing my job, but I would have told her eventually. It wasn’t right, but it wasn’t a lie fabricated by demons with evil intent.

  I should have asked her to have lunch away from Samuel’s demon clutches and then told her the truth. But what would I say? What mother would believe she was dating a demon, and oh, yeah, her virginal daughter had sold her soul over a bottle of tequila?

  I had no proof of any of this. The contract I had wasn’t written in English, wasn’t preserved on ancient parchment paper written with a quill pen, as you’d expect. Gibberish typed on copy paper in neat, Times New Roman font with simple signatures would be considered a joke by a woman who looked at contracts often. And there was no way the demon duo would admit to their evil misdeeds.

  The space between the rock and the hard spot I found myself in grew smaller and smaller, squishing me until my breath caught in my aching chest. The tears fell.

  She’d never, ever believe me. She’d book me a stint in some expensive rehabilitation or mental health facility overlooking the ocean, because she’d think I was doing drugs or I was crazy, finally cracking under the pressure of my screwed up world.

  To make it all better…I told myself lies.

  This was for her own good until I could come up with a solution. There had to be a way out of my contract—a spell, a loophole. There had to be a way to kill them off, though the idea made me ill. I watched way too much TV, and I hadn’t even killed a mouse. I knew I couldn’t kill to save myself. But to save my mother… I heaved a huge sigh. I could kill for her. And it scared me a little.

  My phone dinged with a text, and I wiped my tears to read it.

  Annie: Tomorrow at one. Bring pie.

  I sat a little taller and read it again. And again, smiling through happy tears.

  Thank you, luck.

  Maybe tomorrow would mark the end of the lies.

  ****

  An hour later, I returned home from the grocery store with two bags of pie making items, fully expecting to find Leo waiting for me at my kitchen table, ready to claim what was his or waiting to castigate me for tossing a wrench into Samuel’s tangled web of deception. Finding my space blissfully demon-free, I began my quest for the perfect cherry pie.

  After the heaven-sent text, I had Googled recipes and found one kick-ass one—it said so in the title—that would impress Babu. Or I hoped it would. Since I was a poor cook, I quickly downgraded my optimism from impressive to “hope she finds it edible.”

  As I made the filling, I realized I could have asked my mother how to do this. She’d made plenty. Warm memories of her stirring good things in a pot while she sang to her favorite song on the radio mixed with reality.

  Asking my mother how to make a pie to give an old country crone as an offering to get my soul back seemed…wrong. I tasted the filling and found it passable, but maybe guilt did that. It diminished the goodness.

  As I started making the crust, the doorbell rang. I wiped flour from my face and hands on the very crisp apron I’d found stuffed in a drawer. I opened the door, fully expecting to win something else. Bring it, Karma.

  Instead, I found Leo, leaning against my door frame with a look of agitation on his handsome face.

  Shocked, I drank in his lean form, hating the instant pull of attraction that got my blood zinging to parts that didn’t need to be interested. I had a pie to make.

  I stepped aside to let him in before some nosy neighbor saw him. “Why did you use the door? I appreciate the thought, I do. But I find it surprising you wouldn’t just pop in here.”

  “I had no choice. For some reason, I can no longer ‘just pop in here.’” He brushed past me, change jingling, and turned to confront me in the foyer with a finger pointed in my face. “You can’t piss off Samuel anymore, Olivia. For the love of woodchucks, your life is on the line here. Your mother’s, too.”

  Castigation Leo was hot and scary all at the same time. His dark eyes flashed, his shoulders squared in a no nonsense way that accentuated their breadth. Scary because he was dangerous, magical, and owned my soul.

  I shut the door with trembling hands, the flour on them reminding me I had luck and Babu on my side. I took a calming breath, forced a smile, and breezed past him to the kitchen.

  “Woodchucks?” I brushed that aside and shook my head. “Don’t take this out on me, Leo. It’s not my fault you messed up my contract.”

  He followed and shot me an incredulous look under an arched brow, his laugh edging on frantic. “How is this my fault?”

  “I know you didn’t tell Samuel all the dirty deets of how you won my soul. He also said something about you messing this up.” I plopped the dough onto the floured table. “He gave you an earful, huh?”

  Leo blinked, and the changed stopped rattling. “How—”

  “Because I’m smart.” I began to roll out the crust with deft strokes. “From Samuel’s reaction at lunch, it’s not common practice to sign a contract with virginal blood for good luck. I also got the sense that I wasn’t supposed to be yours.” Which was probably why the magic wasn’t working on me the way it did on the usual contracted client.

  I paused to smile sweetly at him. “You need a drink?”

  “I need you to comply!”

  “I didn’t do anything wrong,” I pointed out. “Samuel told me there were ‘rules’ to adhere to, and if I don’t know the rules, then I can’t really comply, now can I?”

  His gorgeous mouth opened and closed, his brows furrowed. On me, that movement would have looked like a fish gasping for air. Not him, though, and I hated he could make anything sexy.

  I tossed some flour on the crust, resisting the urge to coat Leo with it. “So what are the rules?”

  “The first is to stop interfering with your mother’s wedding. Your job is to make sure it happens. You’ve got two months to get that woman down the aisle. Or else.”

  “Or else what? You reap me, and my mom bags marrying your dear old dad?” Two months wasn’t a lot of time, but it was better than one. I rolled the crust so hard a puff of flour flew into the air and our faces.

  Leo glared and wiped his cheek, under his eye. “You’re a very negative person, Olivia. Instead, look at this as a way to fulfill your mother’s dreams. Samuel makes her very happy. A marriage would just cement that happiness.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’d ask if you kiss your mother with that lying mouth, but…”

  Leo placed a hand over his heart in mock dismay. “You wound me.”

  I couldn’t help laughing at his comical display of injured male. He could be funny, was definitely handsome, and I couldn’t dispute his skill in bed. If he weren’t a lying demon, he’d be perfect boyfriend material.

  My smile faded as I contemplated my crust and the fact that it wasn’t quite round. Who knew how long Samuel had been promoting Leo as the perfect boyfriend? Long enough for my mother to be on board, probably with some magical assistance to cloud her perception. Long enough for Samuel to realize it was the touch of romance my mother needed to walk down the aisle.

  I glanced up from my crust that was as lopsided as my life was difficult. “And what about us?”

  Leo frowned, the change jingling. “What about us.”

  “You suggested last night that we’d have a happy partnership together and said something cliché about oysters.” I wiped a strand of hair away from my face with a floured hand. “You just said a marriage would cement their happiness. My mom would be over the moon with glee if we got married, too. One big, happy family.”

  I prayed her realistic side would win over the romantic streak. She wouldn’t want me to be forced into something dreadful. But he didn’t need to know that.

  Leo jerked his head as if I’d slapped him. “Marrying you is not part of the big picture.”

  “You sure about that?” I shrugged and plopped the crust into the pie tin, hiding
my sweet joy at his discomfort. “You’re intending on using me as a Sugar Mama for an unspecified amount of time. What’s one more contract tacked onto the life sentence? It’s not like you have to love me.” I felt something like a weird vibe shudder across my skin, and I glanced up.

  Leo stared at me with uncensored fear, his eyes wide, his nostrils slightly flared as his skin paled. Licking his lips, he buried it with a shake of his head. “Next rule.”

  “Okay.” Had I stumbled on something big? Samuel wasn’t afraid of the marriage ceremony, but why did Leo seem terrified?

  Leo cleared his throat and adjusted the lapels of his jacket. “When presented with ‘options’, you will take the one that offers the most benefits. No more ten percent raise and a week of vacation. You will go for the jackpot, the winning lotto ticket, the lifetime giveaway. Go big, or—”

  “Go to Hell?” That rattled me, but I shaped my crust around the pie tin and held my ground with a stiffened backbone. They wanted me to lie to my mother on a huge scale. I wasn’t compromising my morals, too. “No, I won’t.”

  Leo ground his teeth. “Olivia—”

  “You said my soul was worth more because it’s pure, correct?” I had to get him to see things my way.

  He looked like he mulled this around in his very crafty brain, probably trying to anticipate the angle I’d take. “Yes…”

  “Then wouldn’t my soul be worth even more if I can ‘resist’ your evil while contemplating such choices?”

  Pink splotches accentuated Leo’s perfect cheekbones. He shook his head slowly as he gaped at me with wonder, confusion, and anger all balled into one.

  “Doesn’t that make sense?” I pressed with false bravado.

  “I have no fucking clue anymore.” He ran a hand through his spiked hair with frustration. Yanking out a chair opposite my crust activities, he slumped into the seat. “I warned Samuel this would be hard. That you would be difficult. That you would think way too much. Fuck my life.”