Twin Alphas: Desired (A BBW Paranormal Romance) (8 page)

He didn’t look the least bit put off, his gaze still roving over her with interest.

“I told you to wait,” Cornelius said to them indignantly. His expression was a cross between guilty and angry.

The would-be lothario raked them both with a speculative look. “You look like you urgently need something.” His voice sank to a melodramatic whisper and he looked around furtively, as if police were lurking right around the corner. “I got what you need.”

He produced a card which simply read “Fabian” and had a phone number on it, and handed it to Karlie.

“You don’t need to whisper.  We’re standing right here and we’re not in starring in an episode of Cops,” Karlie said.

“You can never be too careful.” He glanced around again, then back at them.  “So what do we need today? I specialize in unusual ingredients for the discriminating customer. You two aren’t together, right? So you’re looking for a man. Let’s see, I’ve got - —”

“Fabian! Leave at once,” Cornelius barked.

“All right, all right. A man’s got to make a living, doesn’t he? You sell curses, I sell—”

“Out!”

Karlie tucked his card in her pocket as he scurried out of the door, pausing to turn and mouth “call me!” before he scampered off.

Cornelius leaned back in his seat and tented his fingers. “What is this urgent matter you were speaking of?”

“I need to find out who cursed me and my brother,” Barron said.

Cornelius straightened up, frowning. “That’s generally not done. If someone has put a curse on you, I’m sure you have an idea of who you’ve wronged.  It is between you and that person to resolve this, if it can be resolved. A Curse Mage does not make his decisions lightly.”

“The curse started with my fathers, who died when I was two and a half, probably because of that curse,” Barron said, biting his words out angrily.

Cornelius trained an angry glower at Barron.  “Who are you? Your voice sounds very familiar.”

“Barron Fletcher. My brother and I bonded with a woman recently, and the curse is affecting her. And it shouldn’t. That violates the rule of curses. It should only affect us.” He folded his arms across his broad chest.  “In fact, since you oversee the Curse Mages, I would like to make formal report of a violation.”

“You have no proof of the violation,” Cornelius said coldly. “You’d have to bring me in an affidavit from a certified curse mage before I would accept such a report.”

“None of the curse mages that I have contacted will give me an affidavit,”  Barron said angrily, clenching his fists. Karlie saw just the faintest hint of fur rippling on his hands. She was glad Ajax hadn’t come. He’d already have shifted and leaped across the desk.

“I can’t help you, then. And now, you’ll need to leave.” Cornelius had taken on the tone of a chiding schoolmarm.

“You’re in charge of all the Curse Mages. You could read him and tell if there’s a curse. There is absolutely no reason not to,” Karlie said indignantly.

“If all those other mages refused to see him, there must be a reason.  You must have done something extremely dishonorable, something that would bring shame on your entire pack. Matters like that are best left alone.” Cornelius picked up some papers from his desk and made a big show of reading them.

That did it. Barron’s face went hairy, his jaw shot out, and, half wolf, he lunged across the desk at Cornelius. Karlie threw herself on him, screaming.

              “Don’t kill him! You’ll get in trouble!”

              Barron’s jaws snapped, inches from Cornelius’ throat, for a long moment before the hair slowly receded and his snout sank back, reshaping itself

              “I am calling the authorities,” Cornelius hissed, his hand shaking as he reached for the phone.

              “That would be a bad idea,” Karlie said coldly.  “Because if you do we’ll tell them about your little deal in purchasing illegal substances.” Before he could stop her, she reached under the newspaper, grabbed one of the bottles, and held it up to the light. “Eww, by the way.  What kind of eyeballs are these?”

              “Give me that!” Cornelius lunged for it, but Barron snatched it away.

              “Newt eyeballs?” Barron asked coolly, holding it up to the light. “I understand there’s a limit on how many you can buy per year, and that’s only through licensed dealers. The wild ones are an endangered species thanks to all you Mages.  If I reported you to the Council of Mages, what would happen?”

              Cornelius glared at him. “Fine. I will not call the authorities if you leave at once. And give me back the jar.”

              “No. Read the damned curse and tell me where it came from.” Barron had a determined glower and he stood with arms folded across his broad chest. It was clear he wasn’t going anywhere until he got what he wanted.

              Muttering angrily to himself, Cornelius grabbed a gnarled wooden wand from his desk. A chunk of white crystal was fixed to the end of it with leather straps. He waved it over Barron, and then shrugged. “Sorry. Can’t tell its origin. It is a curse to repay someone for a powerful betrayal.  If the curse was on your fathers, then they clearly did something
very
dishonorable, whether you like it or not.”

              “You’re lying.” Barron’s eyes glowed with fury. “And you’re stonewalling me. Who are you protecting?”

              “Nobody. And we are done here. I can not help you,” Cornelius said. He held out his hand. “My jar.”

              In response, Barron let it drop to the floor and shatter, and then turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.  Karlie followed him, as Cornelius let out a stream of expletives.

              As they walked outside, Barron’s cell phone rang. It was Ajax, with more bad news. The bartender from last night had never showed up at the bar. He’d missed his shift. The waiter who had served them the beer was there, and he insisted he didn’t know anything about any drugged or bewitched brew, and Ajax felt that he was telling the truth.

              Barron hung up the phone and shoved it in his pocket. “We’re getting nowhere.”

              “Well, if you could prove that your family is unfairly cursed, and Cornelius still wouldn’t help you, could you go over Cornelius’ head and approach the Council of Mages?” Karlie asked.

              “Yes. We’d just have to pray Mackenzie doesn’t trip and break her neck before that happens.” Barron’s tone was grim.

              “All right.  We’ve struck out twice today. Third time’s a charm,” Karlie said, pulling her phone out.  She called the number on the card that Fabian had given her.  It went to voicemail. She sighed. She hadn’t really expected anything from the skinny teenaged shyster, but it had been worth a shot.

              “It’s me, the woman you just saw at the Curse Mage’s office,” she said.  “We do need something. Call me back if—”

              “Aha! I knew you needed something!” His voice sounded right behind her. She spun around with a yelp.   Barron let out a low growl.  Fabian stepped out of a doorway, looking around furtively.

              “What the heck?” she said indignantly. 

              “I had a feeling you’d need me right away,” Fabian said. “I’m very intuitive like that.” He rubbed his hands together enthusiastically.

              “Okay, what is it you’re looking for? Spice up the love life? I got stuff for that. I’ve got potions, spells, ingredients—”

              “No!” Barron burst in. “We’re not together. I already have a mate.”

              “I knew it! So, you’re single?” he looked at Karlie hopefully.

              “Focus, Fabian,” Karlie said sternly. “My friend has a problem.”

              Barron shot Karlie an exasperated look. “Like this clown can help us. He’s a back alley, unlicensed Mage who operates outside the law and sells black market crap.”

              “Hey, it’s not crap! My ingredients are of the highest quality!” Fabian looked indignant.  Then he shrugged. “The rest of that’s true, though.”

Barron scowled at Fabian. “On the off chance that you could somehow be helpful, and because I’m desperate, here is my problem. My fathers were cursed. It is an unfair and illegal curse, and I need proof of it. The curse is affecting me and my brother, which is also illegal; it should only affect the person who committed the offense.  Therefore, we suspect that the entire curse is unfair.  We need a way to prove it.”

“Ok, ok. A curse. Let’s see.  Too bad you don’t have like a million dollars, then you could use the Lookback Mirror.” He looked at them speculatively. “Do you have a million dollars?”

              Barron shook his head. “No, but my pack has a lot of land and resources, and I would give all of my portion to save my mate. The Lookback Mirror –I’ve never heard of it. Who has it?”

              “A Mage named Tristan.  He’s the only one who can use it. And I’m the only one who can put you in touch with him. He charges an enormous fee for it, and he can only do it a few times a year because it’s such an enormous energy drain,” Fabian said.  “So, you know exactly what date you’d be looking for?”

              Barron and Karlie exchanged dismayed glances.  “Not even close,” Barron said.

              Fabian shook his head. “That’s no good, then.  He can’t go searching all over time.”

              Barron let out a growl of frustration and anger. “We’ll find out,” he said. “No matter what it takes.”

Chapter Nine

Late that evening, they landed in Reno, which was three hour’s drive from Mountaintop.   It was too late to talk to anybody, so, even though Barron was desperate to go pound on doors and wake people up and demand answers, he restrained himself.  Instead he and Karlie stopped at a motel room that was halfway to Mountaintop.

They slept in separate beds, or rather, Karlie slept heavily and he dozed fitfully, wakened all night long by terrible dreams of Mackenzie being sucked into quicksand while he frantically tried to reach her.

As soon as the sun rose, he was up, pacing the floor. He forced himself to wait until seven a.m., then shook Karlie awake.

              “Ugh.” Karlie sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Early. So early. Why are we up at oh dark thirty?”

              “We need to get going. The sun’s up.”

              “Barely,” she muttered, but she headed off to the bathroom to get ready.             

              About an hour and a half  later they arrived at Mountaintop, a tiny town of a few hundred people.

              They started out by heading to the house where Barron’s fathers had grown up – the land their pack had once owned.              They headed to the house, which, according to an online search of property records, was now owned by a family called the Thorberts. It had been transferred to them by the Magnussen pack 23 years earlier – so, several years after Ajax and Barron had been born.

              The house was set far back in the property, at the end of a long dirt road lined with pine and spruce trees. It was a massive old Colonial Revival style with wood shingle roof and brick construction. Vague memories of running through the woods with his brother flashed through Barron’s mind.  Shifting, chasing rabbits, their fathers chasing after them so they wouldn’t get too far ahead…

              Packs didn’t leave their land. They lived there for generations.  They protected the local human community, with their lives if necessary, and they were part of the community. What had happened here? Why did his fathers’ pack break up, and why didn’t they own this land any more?

              As they walked up the front steps, the front door flew open.  A man who appeared to be in his fifties stood there cradling a shotgun, and a heavy-set, round faced woman stood next to him with her hands on her broad hips.

              “You’ve got some nerve coming here,” the man snapped.

              “Excuse me?” Barron said. “You know who I am?”

              “I recognize a Magnussen when I see one. Get off our land, before I use this.” He pointed the shotgun directly at Barron’s midsection.   Karlie stood frozen in shock next to Barron, eyes wide, mouth open.

              Barron let the fur sprout on his face, and his fangs descended.

              “I wouldn’t recommend it.” His voice came out in a rumbling growl.  “You can’t kill me with bullets, and if you hurt my friend here, I’ll see you drown in your own blood.”

              “Nobody invited you here. You’re trespassing.”

              “And now we’re leaving,” Barron said, and they turned and walked back to his car.

              “Good. God. What was that all about?” Karlie stared back at the house as they drove off “Is that normal for this world?”

              “That was good news, that’s what it was,” Barron said, with a grin of satisfaction, turning on to the main road.

              “Wow. I’d hate to see bad news.”

“We’re starting to get to the bottom of things. Obviously, they think that my pack are bad news.. All we have to do is find out why.” He felt uneasy as he said that.  He had few memories of his fathers.  He prayed that they’d been good people, that this was all a terrible mistake.