The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance 2 (3 page)

“Can you help her?”

“Not without also getting pulled into the spell.”

Something dangerous flashed in Paul’s eyes. “We have to do
something.
We can’t just leave her like this.”

“We won’t,” Caitlin said, dreading her next words. “There’s someone I can call. He’s proficient in memory magic.” Goddess knew, he’d said that very thing too many times to count. “If anyone can free Jesse, it’s him.”

“Who is he?”

Caitlin sighed and closed her eyes. “My ex-husband.”

Aaron Lighter had intended to spend a quiet night at home – just him, a couple slices of pepperoni pizza, a few beers, and both volumes of
Kill Bill.
Nothing like artful slaughter to cheer him up. He’d been in a funk ever since that afternoon, when he’d finally made the decision to send Caitlin the memory box. He’d crafted it months ago, from selecting the proper solid cedar board and making the initial cuts to bend the corners all the way to etching the outer designs with complex wards.

Every cut he’d made, Aaron had thought of Caitlin Harris.

Adding the memory had been the easy part; he was no master woodworker, but his subtle magicks were his strong suit. And memory was extremely subtle. Malleable.

Maddening.

He laughed bitterly as he popped open the beer bottle. Sending the memory box was supposed to be cathartic for him. Cleansing. Instead, it had left him feeling oddly hollow, and painfully lonely.

Which, when he thought about it, was no different from how he’d felt when he’d been married to Caitlin.

No, that was unfair. She’d been the one to leave him, after all. One too many fights, and both of them too proud to admit their egos had smothered their affection. She’d left him, and he’d thought at the time it was good riddance. Two years later, she had still infected his heart.

When you compared love to a disease, it was time to take drastic measures. And so, he’d crafted the memory box.

He was on his second bottle and his second slice when his cellphone rang. He checked the number and took a healthy swig of beer before he answered. Of course she’d be calling. Probably to thank him, and then make some small talk, ask how his rituals were going, that sort of thing. That’s all she was to him now: small talk. If he told himself that enough, he might actually believe it.

Swallowing his beer, he took the call. “Caitlin,” he said by way of hello.

“Aaron.” She said his name like she was spitting nails. “I know you sent the memory box.”

He wasn’t the sort of man to think
Well, duh.
But in this case, it was damn close. “Given the memory that was inside, I’d certainly hope so.” He’d chosen it specially, out of all the time they’d had together. Goddess knew that after twelve years, there had been quite a few choice memories.

She let out an exasperated sigh. “Aaron . . .”

“Listen, you caught me right in the middle of something, so enjoy the present.” He really wanted to watch some righteous murder right about now. Uma Thurman in a tracksuit was a bonus. Not that he was into tall, blond women with a thing for swords; he was much more about small brunettes with untamable curly hair.

He wondered if Caitlin still kept her hair pulled back in a ponytail, or if she let it go loose around her shoulders.

“Don’t hang up,” Caitlin snapped. “You messed up, Aaron. The box didn’t go to me.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. He didn’t
mess up,
not when it came to memory boxes. While he enjoyed working various subtle craftings, the one area he truly excelled in was memory. Current actions defined a person only for the moment; memories defined them forever. “Of course it went to you,” he said. “I was very specific when I crafted the package. I infused it with the essence of your dazzling smile and sharp tongue, dearest.”

She sighed, clearly exasperated. “Aaron—”

“It couldn’t
not
go to you. Besides,” he added with a smile, “I felt it when you opened it.”

Oh, he’d felt it, all right: the initial surprise, then a flood of lust so powerful it had given him a raging hard-on. He hadn’t known Caitlin could feel
any
emotion that strongly. Maybe he wasn’t the only one doing without sex.

“That wasn’t me,” Caitlin growled.
“Jesse
got the envelope.
Jesse
opened the box.”

Her words hit him like ice water in the face. His mouth worked silently for a moment, until he finally spluttered, “You’re joking.”

“I wish I were. But I’m looking at Jesse right now.” Caitlin paused, and Aaron could hear her grind her teeth. “She’s trapped. Something went wrong, and she opened the box, and now she’s trapped.”

Aaron ran his fingers through his hair. Of all the possible ramifications he’d thought of when he had first crafted Caitlin’s memory box – and he’d thought of just about everything, from Caitlin despising him to Caitlin throwing herself at his feet and begging for another chance – this scenario hadn’t come up. Hell, this scenario should be impossible. But then, he admitted to himself, when it came to Caitlin’s pseudo-sister Jesse, “impossible” didn’t really exist.

He said, “Tell me everything.”

She did.

By the time she finished, Aaron was sweating and his heartbeat was erratic. Caitlin had been wrong – he hadn’t merely messed up. He’d fucked up, hugely. What was supposed to be a gift for his former wife had turned into a potentially lethal weapon against the one person the Hecate’s followers had sworn to protect. The old saying was true: no good deed went unpunished.

“I need your help,” Caitlin said.

Well,
that
had to kill her to admit. The thought made him smile. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” he said.

“It doesn’t take that long to
step.”

“No, dearest. But it does take that long to get a cab.” He paused. “I’m right here in New York, Caitlin. I left Salem after you walked out on me.”

“Don’t,” she said, her voice sharp.

Caitlin never had liked hearing the ugly truth when it came to their relationship. Some things would never change. “Fine,” Aaron said. “I’ll get there shortly. Just don’t touch her.”

She snorted. “Tell me something I
don’t
know.”

“The address would be nice.”

After Caitlin gave him the address, she said, “You could just
step
here and be done with it.”

“Unlike some,” Aaron said pointedly, “I don’t like throwing around power when something more mundane does just as nicely.”

“Aaron
—”

“And taking a cab,” he added quietly, “doesn’t cost me a year of my life.”

There was a long pause before Caitlin said, “Just get over here, Aaron.” With that, she hung up.

Aaron dumped the leftover pizza and beer and turned off his television and DVR. He wasn’t surprised that she had
stepped
all the way from Salem, even with such a high price to pay. Of course she’d come running to her sister’s side. It’s what Caitlin had been handpicked to do. Jesse was part of her life now – and Aaron was not.

The thought was distressingly bitter.

Steeling himself to work with his ex-wife, Aaron went to flag down a cab.

“I was starting to think that witches didn’t travel like regular people,” Paul said as Aaron took off his jacket.

“Female witches might not,” Aaron confided. “But male witches tend to be more practical. We even ask for directions.”

Caitlin bristled. She hated that Aaron looked so damn good, from his hazel eyes to his mop of sandy hair to the dimple in his left cheek. He wore all black, of course, from his button-up shirt to his slacks to his socks and shoes. His underwear – if he were even bothering with any – would also be black. She remembered that far too well.

Damn it. Stop thinking about him in his underwear. Or not in his underwear.

She did not find him attractive any more. Absolutely not. They were exes, formers, already-done-thats. She wasn’t sorry that she was wearing her comfortable, baggy sweater with its shredded collar, or her well-worn sweatpants. No, not sorry at all.

He was by her side now, flashing his teeth. “Dearest,” he said, offering his hand.

She wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face, but she forced herself to remain calm. Calm, calm, calm. She took a cleansing breath and blew it out slowly.

Yes. She was perfectly calm.

“Call me ‘dearest’ again,” she said sweetly, “and I’ll curse your hair to fall from your scalp and grow on your back.”

Aaron threw back his head and laughed. “Still the charmer, Caitlin.”

“Still a pompous ass, Aaron.”

“Hey.”

Caitlin tore her gaze from Aaron to look at Paul, who was glowering at the both of them.

“Fight later,” he said, his voice dangerously soft. “You’re here to help Jesse. So make with the helping.
Now.”

Caitlin felt her cheeks flush, but she ignored it. Paul was right. “Take a look at her, Aaron.”

Her ex-husband walked over to where Jesse lay on the floor, and he squatted next to her. His lips moved as he cast a silent spell – Caitlin used to joke that if he were ever gagged, he’d never be able to work magic – and then white sparks flew from his outstretched hands and covered Jesse’s form. After a few moments, the lights faded. The glow around Jesse’s body remained a steady, soft blue.

“It’s as you said. She’s trapped in a memory. But it’s not yours, as I would have thought.” He glanced at Caitlin. “It’s hers.”

Oh . . . crap.
Caitlin sank down on to the sofa and held her head in her hands.

“What?” That was Paul, sounding worried and angry. “What does that mean?”

“Jesse was a succubus for 4,000 years,” Caitlin said grimly. “Three guesses what sort of memory she’s stuck in.”

“And the first two don’t count.” Aaron let out a strained laugh. “Sex and demons. This is going to be fun.”

“Don’t forget that she’s an exotic dancer now,” Caitlin added with a groan. “So that could be in there too.”

“Sex, strippers and demons,” Aaron corrected. “What’s not to like?”

Oh, Goddess. There was no way Caitlin was going to survive this with her dignity intact.

“So,” Paul said slowly, “what are you going to do? How can you help her?”

“We have to enter her memory and pull her out,” said Aaron.

“You’re making it sound simple.”

“Hopefully, it will be.” Aaron paused, and Caitlin felt his gaze on her. “She knows you, so I suggest that I anchor you.”

Caitlin looked up at him. He was still smiling, but it looked forced. And what she had first taken as haughtiness sparkling in his eyes now looked more like worry. Not that she blamed him. The worst that could happen to her if she failed to find or free Jesse would be getting stuck in Jesse’s memory. But the worst thing for an anchor, should the rescue go awry, would be death. Caitlin was a strong anchor, though. Chances were, she wouldn’t die, even if things went terribly wrong.

“You’re better at navigating memories than I am,” she said. “Maybe it should be the other way around.”

“Won’t work. Jesse doesn’t know me, so she won’t trust me enough to shake her loose from the memory.”

Caitlin couldn’t help it; she barked out a laugh. “You think she’ll trust
me?
She hates me, Aaron.”

His smile slipped into something warmer. “That doesn’t mean she won’t trust you.”

He had a point. Sort of.

“She’s your sister,” Paul said to her. “She’ll listen to you.”

Caitlin’s lips twitched. For all that Paul was a good man, sometimes he was horribly naive. Even though he knew about Jesse’s sordid history, he still believed she was a good person. He loved her, despite her faults. Paul and Jesse made it work, even though it shouldn’t. A former succubus, in love with a mortal man bound for Heaven? Impossible. And yet, there they were, Paul and Jesse. Together.

“Together,” she said to Aaron. “We can go in together.”

He frowned at her. “That’s not how it’s done. One to enter, one to anchor. It can’t be any other way.”

“Just because it’s not done that way doesn’t mean it can’t be done. Think about it,” she said, imploring. “You’re a strong navigator; I’m a powerful anchor. If we join, we can be both navigator and anchor, with all our strength combined. If we do it together, we have a better chance of getting to her quickly and pulling her free.”

Aaron asked softly, “And how do you suggest we join, Caitlin?”

She blushed again, but she refused to look away. “I brought my ritual bag. We can call upon the Hecate to bless us and join us.”

“Or we could do it the old-fashioned way.”

Her eyes narrowed. “In your dreams.”

“You mean, in her dreams.” Aaron motioned to where Jesse lay.

“It doesn’t have to come to that,” Caitlin said tightly. “We’re strong. We can fight it.”

“Fight what?” Paul asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Sex,” said Aaron, sounding horribly chipper. “Sex magic is the ultimate way to join essences. And sex is the only thing to expect when we enter the memory of a succubus.”