Magpies & Moonshine (Toil and Trouble Book 6) Read online

  I ignore it and capture a strand of his hair waving in the breeze off the fjord, running the rough silk of it through my fingers as I listen to the water slapping against the side of the boat. The emptiness I felt earlier is gone. Now I can’t wait to see what happens next.

  A burst of musical Norwegian has us both turning. One of the plentiful model types, a female version, is smiling up at Styx. Her hair is as pale and blond as his and nearly as long. She has the makeup thing down cold, something I’ve never mastered, perfectly applied to make her look dazzling without taking on that plastic look. Slender and tall, she’s the body type runway clothes are made for.

  I can’t understand what she’s saying, thought I have my suspicions. Styx lifts an eyebrow and winds his arm around my waist, hauling me to him.

  She blinks, looking from me to him, then back again. Then she shrugs, bringing her hands together as if to encompass us all. Styx sputters out a laugh, shaking his head once.

  Giving us a regretful look over her shoulder, the vision walks away.

  Styx lets his arm drop and turns back to the water, the light shining on it almost as brightly as it does on his silvery hair.

  “Did she just proposition you, me . . . or us?”

  He doesn’t answer, but his jaw tics.

  I bump his hip with mine. “Ease up. I know what a threesome is, for the gods’ sakes. I have watched Game of Thrones, you know.”

  The tic speeds up and I can hear his teeth grinding together.

  “A TV show does not prepare one for the reality of such things.”

  “So you have done . . . that before?” Suddenly my mind is alive with images of Styx naked in a tangle of golden limbs, hands on his body, lips moving over his skin . . . It’s all vaguely disturbing, the quick pulse of jealousy to be expected, but not the slow, hot ache building low down in my stomach.

  Interesting.

  With a growl, he turns away from the rail, cupping my chin in his hand, that warning look on his face. “Carly. I’ve lived longer than you can possibly imagine. There isn’t much I haven’t done at one point or another. I have no interest in doing something like that with you.”

  I yank my head back, unable to control my instant and fierce blush. “Oh. Well.” I clear my throat as he cocks his head, frowning at me as I blink fast and hard. “That’s clear enough. Excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

  I walk away, ignoring his whispered curse, my back ramrod straight, hoping Norwegian beer is strong.

  4

  I hurt her. That’s twice in one day.

  I push through the crowd bottlenecking the doorway to the small onboard café/bar and spot her immediately, that spill of curly golden red like a beacon. She’s carrying a beer to the last free table in the joint.

  A minute later, I slip into the seat opposite her, knocking aside a dark-haired Dane with a speculative look on his face. Irritated, he glances at me, then immediately backs away, his hands raised as he scurries backward out of the café.

  Carly ignores us both, sipping her beer and looking out at the water. She pulls her hand off the table when I reach for it. The stab of pain that slices through my chest has me breathing fast and shallow.

  Gods be fucked, I am no good at this shit. Not surprising. When you haven’t given a damn about anyone’s feelings in a thousand years or so, the subtleties of playing nice don’t come naturally.

  “That came out wrong,” I finally growl. “You know it did.”

  “Maybe I do.” She still isn’t looking at me, and her voice is very quiet. “But sometimes it’s really hard to wait for you to get your head out of your ass.”

  “Carly.” I close my eyes, then open them again, wishing we weren’t having this conversation in the middle of a boat crowded with strangers.

  Without a word, I stand up and wait, my hand outstretched. She gives me a look but finally takes a last sip of beer and gets to her feet. I raise my eyebrows, but inwardly I’m holding my breath. Finally, with an irritated huff, she takes my hand.

  Making my way through the throngs of people queuing up at the bar and out onto the deck, I lead her to the quietest spot I can find, behind a pallet stuffed with luggage on the starboard side.

  I tuck her back into the corner between the pallet and the wall of the ship, then put a hand on either side of her head, gripping the pallet and bending down so we’re almost nose to nose, our conversation as private as I can make it. “There are reasons I can’t be intimate with you. Very fucking good ones.”

  “Semi-immortal witch here. You can’t break me, you know.”

  Want to bet?

  She lifts a hand, making me stiffen when she smooths it over my shirt, biting her lower lip. My heart starts to race as it always does when we’re too close. The soft press of her palm has my skin tingling, craving more.

  But it isn’t worth the risk. “You have no idea what I could do to you.”

  She cocks her head and I swear that little freckled nose twitches. “I’d like to find out.”

  I sigh, letting my head fall forward to bump hers. “Carly. You’re killing me here.” For a minute, we stay like that, our breathing low and soft and in perfect sync, her hand over my heart. Finally, I speak again. “I’m a monster, you must know that much.”

  “I’ve never seen that side of you.”

  “And I never want you to. Which is why we can’t. Ever.”

  She sighs and pushes me back. My body tightens at the loss of her nearness. “Never say never, big guy. I’m done accepting the no-sex thing. Fair warning.” She gives me a grumpy look that turns unexpectedly wistful. “But for now, I’ll settle for a kiss.”

  “A kiss?” I echo, going very still.

  “Yes.” She trails a fingertip over my mouth. Shock waves ripple outward from that simple caress, weakening my knees. “I’ve waited a long time to be kissed.” Deep inside me, something stirs. Something I’ve been trying very, very hard not to awaken.

  “You’ve never been kissed?” My throat is so tight the words come out strangled.

  She looks up at me through her lashes. “I’ve been waiting for the right set of lips.”

  I can’t wrap my head around the idea that no one’s tasted her before.

  I know Carly’s a virgin. I sensed her innocence the second I saw her soul, but not the full extent of her lack of experience. Probably because I avoided delving too deeply into that particular subject, all too aware of the dangers it presents for both of us.

  Her fingers tighten in my shirt, cutting off my line of thought. “Styx?”

  Those eyes are so bright and beautiful, her soul peeping out at me, tightening my gut. The need to protect her wars with the overwhelming urge to make her happy.

  Fine. I’ll give her this. Just a kiss.

  One fucking kiss. I can handle that.

  I think.

  “Styx? I—”

  Determined to be quick, I dip my head. She sucks the last of her words back in, her eyes going wide right before my mouth brushes hers.

  I intend to stop right there, but that’s the thing about good intentions. They’re so damn hard to keep.

  Her lips are soft, giving sweetly to the slightest pressure. My hands tighten, digging into the wood. I can’t help but explore that sweetness a little more, gently at first. Then temptation grows.

  I knew it would. Want.

  Inside my chest the beast rattles his chains.

  Want. More.

  The words echo in my head and need grows with every beat of my heart. The wood cracks and my hands drop to her hips, lifting her bodily so I can get a better angle. The warm press of her curves makes me growl low and deep, annoyed at the barriers keeping her skin from mine. I suck and nip and bite until she’s boneless in my arms, gasping for air, her lips swollen and trembling, blue eyes wide and shell-shocked, and still it’s not enough.

  Her arms wind tightly around my neck, the ocean breeze blowing her hair over both of us. She sighs my name and I exploit the opening at once, sliding
my tongue between those silken, parted lips. She whimpers at the invasion.

  The sound almost breaks me. It’s both a plea for more and a surrender to everything I can possibly imagine. But with that one little whimper, Carly also reminds me what is at stake here.

  No.

  Can’t hurt her.

  Won’t.

  I curse and yank my lips from hers. She raises a wondering hand to her lips as I stagger back. “Now that was worth waiting for.”

  Shit. This is bad, bad, bad. There is a tightening in my chest, a long, low snarl of need and wakening hunger as I stare at those swollen lips and lick my own.

  “Carly. I shouldn’t have—”

  Her smile twists at the edges and she lifts a hand. “Don’t. I’d rather not spoil the moment, thanks.”

  “But—”

  “Nope.” She shakes her head, wagging a finger warningly, her voice hardening. “I know you think I don’t have a temper, but I swear to the gods, Styx, you try and apologize for that kiss and you will find out otherwise.”

  “Fine.” I back up against the rail, fisting the hands that want to reach for her again. Stifling the onslaught of urges that have my skin going tight and hot. “I’ll go . . . and see what time we should arrive in Odda.”

  I force myself to walk away, every step a Herculean effort as the beast snaps and claws, trying to drag me back to her.

  One fucking kiss.

  How could I be so stupid?

  5

  Styx grumbles as he tosses our bags onto the wharf. “It’s too late, we’ve missed the bus to the mountain.”

  I glance at my phone, startled to see it’s nearly eleven p.m. And I thought Duluth had long summer days. Odda is smaller and less picturesque than Bergen, also far more foreboding, the towering walls of the fjords seeming to hem in the sky.

  “We’ll have to get a room,” Styx mutters, looking around as if expecting a hotel to appear on command. I don’t comment. He’s been in a bad mood since the kiss.

  Otherwise known as the best five minutes of my life so far. I expected a lot from my first kiss, particularly when I decided Styx was going to be the one to give it to me. I just didn’t expect that.

  Still feeling dreamy, I let him sort out an Uber and then hold the door for me when it arrives. He snaps a bunch more Norwegian at the driver, who isn’t much bigger than me and looks almost comically apprehensive at the growly blond giant barking orders.

  I lean my head against the window as Styx joins me in the backseat at last, his voice terse.

  “He says there’s only one hotel that might have rooms tonight. But it’s supposed to be decent. Nothing seedy.”

  I blink at the tidy rows of houses, the neat streets with flowers flashing past as twilight finally starts to fall. I don’t think Norway does ‘seedy,’ but I let the comment pass. Silence stretches.

  Halfway to the hotel, his hand brushes mine. I don’t look up, but a smile curves my lips as I watch the lights flicker by. I know Styx thinks he needs to maintain a certain distance between us, but no matter how hard he tries, it inevitably closes. He can’t stay away from me any more than I can stay away from him. Seconds later, my fingers are laced in his. When I chance a look at his face, those golden eyes are staring straight ahead, his jaw tight. The shadows growing inside and out of the car make him look otherworldly.

  Dangerous.

  Sometimes I wonder what will happen once I succeed in pushing Styx past his comfort zone.

  I don’t know exactly what he is, after all. As far as I know, no one does. Seph gave me the first real hint only a few weeks ago. I chew at my lower lip, remembering our conversation.

  We were at T&T. I was helping her open since one of her staff had come down with the flu. I was in a rare mood. I don’t really talk about Styx and me to anyone, but I was tired and frustrated. It was the day after Jett’s party. Styx had bowed out after making a last-minute excuse. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but I had gotten all dressed up. I don’t do the sexy-girl thing often, but when I do, I know I look like the cat’s meow.

  I was looking to make Styx purr, but as if sensing my intent, he didn’t show up. Hence the rare mood.

  Without giving details, I let it slip that I was getting frustrated with his skittishness. She cocked her head, those golden waves with their ripple of pink bright in the morning light. There was a nostalgic look on her face.

  “Jack was like that. Back when we first . . . well, you know.” She shook herself once. “Like he was cradling a very big bomb inside that could go off at any time.”

  “That’s exactly it.” I nodded, impatiently stacking cocktail napkins in neat rows next to the bartending station. “But . . .” I hesitated, then decided screw it. Of all my sisters, Seph and I are the closest. Not in temperament maybe, but definitely in taste. We both have a propensity for the geeky and the odd. We’re also the nearest in age, both chronologically and considering my mother’s time hops. Ana and Jett will always be slightly out of place in the modern age, but Seph and I fit in like peas in a pod.

  Besides, she has always been able to handle blunt honesty better than any of us, so I decide not to mince words. “Jack was cradling a big bomb; he knew he was going to hurt you. In fact, he was planning on it.”

  “Hmm,” she murmured, giving me a sidelong look. “That’s true.” Abruptly, her tone changed, becoming sharp. “Have you seen Styx shift yet?”

  I jerked my head around, staring at her. “No.” I’m aware that Styx can shift, but only in theory. I’ve only ever seen him as a man.

  “I have.” Her fingers tightened on the box in her hands. “Sort of. A few years back. It was during a storm on the lake. He saved me. Well, him and Jack.”

  “Oh?” My tone was somewhere between curious and even more annoyed.

  Seph set down the box on the bar and leaned back, folding her arms over her chest, hugging herself. It started to make me nervous.

  “I’ve never been easily scared, you know,” she said slowly. “Never really had bad dreams, even as a kid. Of monsters, the boogeyman, clowns. All that human stuff. But whatever he is . . . it still gives me nightmares once in a while.” She shivered. “I couldn’t move. I’m not sure I was even breathing. And I only got a glimpse, just a second or two from the corner of my eye.” She shook her head when I opened my mouth. “I can’t describe it, so don’t ask.”

  I’ve read the stories, though, the mythology surrounding our lake monster. The Ojibwe call him a lynx, a monstrous, metallic one.

  From the way my sister acted, that didn’t quite cover it.

  “What do you think he is?”

  She shook her head. “Something ancient. Something . . . other.” Seph shivered again before dropping her arms and shooting me a look. “Maybe Styx is right to protect you from that, Carly. Maybe you can’t handle whatever he truly is. Maybe no one can.”

  I looked at my sister, and anger started to wind its way around the tendril of fear her story had stirred, fear that she was right and I’d never be able to bridge the gap between me and the man I wanted more than anything.

  “There’s not much I can’t handle. I’m more than capable of protecting myself. You know that.”

  Seph swallowed. She knows less about my past than Ana or Jett, but she knows enough. “This is different,” she said. “You know it is.”

  She was right. Still. “I’m not weak.” I’m not sure if I said it more for her benefit or my own.

  “Of course not. Nobody thinks that.”

  I narrowed my eyes, not quite sure I believed her.

  Seph lifted an eyebrow. “They saved that shit for me, remember?” Then she shrugged. “Of course, at the time they had a point.”

  “Did it piss you off this much, too?”

  “Oh yeah,” Seph said dryly, then she smiled, an apology in her eyes even if she didn’t voice it. “Look, for whatever reason, we all get labels. It’s the nature of family and siblings, I guess. But yours isn’t weak. More like sweet and . . . gent
le. Not like the rest of us.”

  She had a point but I was done. “Styx is mine, Seph. Sweet and gentle or not, if anyone tries to come between me and him, they’re going to find that label changing in a hurry.”

  Without another word, I turned on my heel and left the bar, leaving my sister with her mouth open.

  The car comes to a stop and my thoughts are yanked back into the present, my eyes still fixed on the dark profile next to me.

  I don’t care if Styx is dangerous. He is mine, just like I told Seph. All of him, even the scary bits. I’ve got to convince him and everyone else that I can handle it.

  Failure is not an option. For astronauts or witches in love. With a smile, I get out of the Uber.

  Across the slowly darkening street, a man with dark-blond hair dressed in an impeccable suit catches my eye. Damn these Scandinavians. It’s like being trapped inside a Calvin Klein ad. I’m a body-positive sort, but these people are enough to dent Lara Croft’s ego. I rub my arms even though it’s not in the least chilly. The man gives off a discordant air that makes me uneasy. He’s waiting by a limo outside what I assume is to be our hotel. Swanky place. The man’s eyes pass over me with a bored flicker, but when they reach Styx, they widen.

  I frown as he takes a hasty step backward before catching himself. His driver opens the limo door for another blond that followed him out of the hotel, this one a woman dressed as impeccably as her companion. She gives him a curious look, but the man’s eyes never leave Styx’s face. Until they dart back to me, just once, narrowing before the man slips into the car with the woman and disappears behind heavily tinted windows.

  Styx has finished interrogating the driver and he picks up our bags, still grumbling.

  I jerk my head as the limo starts to slide away from the hotel. “Get a load of that.”

  Styx glances around as the car rolls past us in a black wave. His brow furrows as his eyes track the small flags on the front. Red and gold, emblazoned with a blackened tree. They look familiar, and after a moment’s thought, I place where I’ve seen the symbol before. It’s one Georg showed me ages ago. We were at the Den. There were a bunch of flags set up in the living room, banners bright against the gleaming wood over the fireplace. That insignia was one of them. The biggest one, in fact. The Mikhailovs.