A Touch Spellbound (Zodiac Cove Book 6)

How much longer could I stay behind this locked door? I wasn’t a princess in need of saving, but I wasn’t trying to save myself either. I’d willingly climbed the tower, kicked down the ladder, and refused to take my rightful place in the kingdom. It had worked for me for years, but staring down the destruction of the place I still called home, despite everything, I had to ask myself an honest question.

At what point did protection become just plain cowardice?

My fingers dug into my balcony’s iron railing, the cool metal biting into my palms. The sting of gripping the rail too tightly didn’t even register above the roar in my ears. Protect Rafe or rip open his wounds? Hurt him or hurt us both? Fear or courage? I’d spent too many weeks turning myself inside out, convincing myself that I wasn’t needed, that the others could handle this curse without me.

But it had just become abundantly clear that was a bunch of bullshit.

I’d been curled up in bed, attempting to knit a hat Kenna would never even pretend to like just to spare my feelings, when the ground began to rumble. Same as the night magic entered my body and gave me a sense of wholeness I hadn’t felt since I kissed Rafe all those years ago.

A night that haunted me worse than the death of my fiancé.

As I clung to my headboard to keep from falling off my bed, and the sound of people screaming and running down the hall filled my head, for one brief moment, I wondered if it would be better for everyone if the walls just came down around me. I immediately dismissed the thought. It wasn’t my own. But the fact that it had crept into my mind at all terrified me. Who was I becoming? How had I let things progress this far?

Once the earth stopped trying to toss me around my bedroom like a tennis ball, I went out to my balcony to get a view of the damage. I’d been having trouble getting air into my lungs ever since. Water lapped at the white oak veranda below me. Gentle waves brought bits of sand and seaweed to the back door of the hotel that had been my home for the last seven years.

The beach was gone. All of it. The final phase of the curse had begun.

I held my fist to my mouth and bit down hard on my knuckles, drawing blood before I realized what I’d done. Grinding my teeth together, I worked my molars back and forth, shaving off imperceptible amounts of enamel along with countless years of my life. A sense of being trapped clawed at my throat. Far worse than when the ferries stopped running. Worse than when the sun went down for the last time and the street lights went out.

The time I’d generously been given to acclimate myself to working with Rafe was over. Which was ridiculous. We were adults. There had once been a time when he’d been the source of more guilt than I knew how to carry. But that was a long time ago. I didn’t know him anymore, and he certainly didn’t know me.

So why did the idea of working with him make my insides quake worse than this most recent attack by the curse? Why had I let things go this far?

I knew the answer, of course. Because I’d been willing to let this whole island sink before I’d do anything to hurt Rafe. I’d gone full-blown villain for a man who’d happily feed me to the curse’s sharks, free of charge. My parents must be so proud.

The French doors several floors below opened, the only sound disturbing the quiet that had settled over the hotel. The residents who had been staying here had gathered out front, making the back end of the hotel feel like a hollow shell of a luxury liner turned ghost ship. The emptiness pressed in on me, more so than it did in the dead of winter when I was alone, without the company of tourists I led on tours through the forest in the summer. Shunned by everyone except my cousin Kenna, who risked too much being seen in my company.

But no matter how many times I told her it wasn’t worth it, she snubbed her nose at the town and stood by my side. The way I’d once expected Rafe to, before I’d made the choice to kick down the ladder of that aforementioned tower.

With a deep sigh, I turned away from the miles of beach that had been swallowed by the ocean’s waters, but the sound of voices I recognized drifted up to me. I wasn’t usually one to eavesdrop, mostly because I ended up hearing things I didn’t want to know, but the concern in Kenna’s voice had me melting into the shadowed end of my balcony. Since she was with Galen, it was probably a good idea for me to remain unseen.

“What about Rafe and Jocelyn?” The worry in Kenna’s voice sent a fresh wave of guilt rolling through me, which was instantly drowned out by a larger punch of fear. Two emotions I was well versed in when it came to anything related to me and Rafe.

“Cole is dealing with that.” Galen’s serious tone raised the tiny hairs at the back of my neck. I made it a priority to stay the hell out of Cole Latham’s way. Nothing good could come of his involvement in my business. “And not a moment too soon.”

I leaned closer to the rail. A thin sliver of the moon’s light caught my eye as it shimmered against the dark sky. Kenna tilted her head back to take in the stars and her eyes locked on mine. I placed a finger over my lips. Her mouth thinned in response.

No doubt, we’d be having another strongly worded conversation tonight. Joy.

Kenna tossed her bold red hair over her shoulder, her shoulders tense with worry, her clothes torn and tattered. “What did Finn and Thora say?”

“The cliffs on the east end of the island are gone, along with the festival grounds and some of the homes on the south side of the island.” Galen took off his glasses and cleaned them on his filthy shirt. “It’s the beginning of the end.”

I pressed a hand to my stomach and stumbled against the wall that separated my balcony from the hotel’s penthouse suite. It was one thing to lose the beach, but people had homes up on those back cliffs. The house Finn had built for Thora…

Just thinking Thora’s name made my blood run cold. The cousin I never knew I had.

We hadn’t been friends in high school. She’d always acted like she was so much better than the rest of us, being the mayor’s daughter. Kenna tried to assure me she wasn’t really like that, but I had my doubts, especially since she hadn’t attempted to reach out to me after she learned we were related.

Even though I was more than used to the town’s scorn, it stung to think I had yet another family member who was all too willing to shut me out because of what happened with Kyle. Not that I could blame her, exactly. That was just how small towns worked. But it didn’t warm me to the idea of working with her in any capacity.

Rafe wasn’t the only hurdle I had to overcome. He was just the toughest.

“Finn and Thora should be telling everyone gathered out front what they’ve discovered by now,” Galen said. “We should probably get out there and help with panic control.”

As Galen led the way back through the French doors, Kenna stopped to stare up at me. She didn’t say a word, but sea-green eyes that I knew better than my own narrowed to convey her message loud and clear. I was out of time. Rafe and I were the only descendants left.

But that didn’t mean I had to hang out here and suffer through another lecture about telling Rafe the truth. I practically had it memorized.

She wasn’t wrong though. It wasn’t on me to manage Rafe’s grief. And while I’d rather take a round of thumbtacks under my nails than rip out his heart, I also had to admit that his heart wasn’t mine to protect. It never had been, and enough was enough.

Time to come down from my tower and quit worrying about the needs of one man.

I steeled myself to leave my room and sneak down to the kitchen for the wine I’d need to face the list of lies that had grown heavier the longer I’d let them pass. Pulling my hair out of my high ponytail, I shook it out. Long strawberry-colored tresses flowed over my shoulders and around my face. I put on a cherry-print skirt, pulled on a pair of tan leggings, and added a long, fuzzy gray cardigan with a fox appliqué on the left shoulder, buttoning it all the way up. Then I wrapped a multi-colored scarf around my neck. I looked ridiculous. Like Ms. Frizzle if she’d made a handful of poor life decisions. But I could use all the armor I could get right now.

Though I probably should’ve gone down to the entrance to find out what had happened along with everyone else, I didn’t really see the point anymore. I’d already overhead everything I needed to know. And while the residents now had much larger problems than the petty grudge they held against me, I was also an easy target for misplaced rage and frustration. My survival instincts were too finely honed to take chances.

Wine first. Then I’d face Rafe.

I’d just started toward my door when the sound of shouting outside in the hall stopped me in my tracks. What the hell?

Before I could take another step forward, my locked door beeped and flew open. A set of brawny arms shoved Rafe into my small hotel apartment. I let out a small squeak of surprise, catching a flash of Cole’s guilty expression before the door slammed shut again. The sound of crackling ice, like stepping onto a half-frozen lake, seeped into the room. My eyes widened as I took in Rafe’s height, his broad shoulders straining against his suit jacket, those piercing blue eyes that narrowed on me as if this had been my doing.

After all this time, after everything that had happened, how could this man still make my pulse race? What magic did he have over me that kept me spellbound in his presence? God, he was so beautiful, it was hard to breathe the same air as him.

“Get out.” I cupped the long column of my throat, massaging it to keep myself from throwing up. These were the first words I’d spoken to Rafe in over four years.

Since the night Kyle died.

And it hurt just as much as I always knew it would.

“Believe me, I’m trying,” he muttered to himself as he turned away and jangled the handle on my door. Making absolutely certain I couldn’t mistakenly think he was addressing me. He slammed his fist against the heavy wood. “Let me out, motherfuckers. I already told you to find someone else.”

“There is no one else. Time to pay the piper, my dude. We all had to do it.” The disembodied voice that floated through the door belonged to Donovan Latham. One of my bosses. Though I reported directly to Wes, all of the Lathams technically employed me.

“Fuck. Off.” Rafe’s fist hit the door with each punched word.

I wasn’t an idiot. I understood what was happening. And I wanted no part of it.

While I’d been intending to hunt down Rafe and attempt a temporary truce, I’d been planning to do it on my terms and with copious amounts of wine. I didn’t want him in my space. There were very few places on this island that didn’t feel like Rafe, that didn’t hold some kind of memory of the days when he’d been my everything. My apartment was one of them.

I’d never intended to bring him here. It was too close to letting him in.

A red haze blurred my vision as I stood beside Rafe and beat my useless fists against the door. I might as well have tried to chip away at an iceberg with a teaspoon. “You listen to me, Donovan. Let him out now or I’m quitting and suing the shit out of you. This goes way beyond what you’re allowed to do as my employer.”

“No can do,” Donovan said. “Wes froze the door shut, and he’s not here to unfreeze it.”

I stood on my tiptoes to look out the peephole, elbowing Rafe out of the way. He was standing too close and it was messing with my ability to think straight.

The moment I connected with his arm, a bold and brilliant blue light shot from my hands. A dozen images flooded my living room. Donovan with his face on fire, followed by Wes falling down a long, dark well, followed by Cole wearing a scarf made of snakes.

Wow, I was really pissed at my bosses.

And while picturing them in pain had dulled the sharp edge of my temper, seeing it played out in front of my eyes was much less comforting. I didn’t want to actually see any of this. Closing my eyes to clear my head, I thought about puffy white clouds and sun-drenched sand. Those rare warm days before tourist season officially started. My happy place.

When I opened my eyes again, my living room had transformed into a sunlit slice of the beach. Complete with tiny sand crabs and seagulls pecking at a discarded corn dog.

“What the fuck?” Rafe’s awed tone let me know this definitely wasn’t happening inside my head. He could see it too. What the fuck, indeed.

Around the edges of the beach scene laid out before us, pictures, books, and a vase I’d gotten as a guilt gift from my mother for letting another birthday pass without visiting hovered in the air. The objects wobbled, as if unsure and unsteady without a solid surface beneath them.

I dragged my gaze away from the show taking place in my apartment to the soft white light that glowed from Rafe’s palms. My elbow was still firmly lodged against his arm, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything other than stare at him with my mouth hanging open. Lust overwhelmed me, so far removed from what the situation called for, there was no way it could be coming from me.

Kenna had told me about the side effects. I thought I was prepared for them. But who could prepare for this? I wanted Rafe, I’d always wanted Rafe, but now I had to have him. And while I didn’t like the sensation of being controlled, my desire far exceeded my disdain.

“Jocelyn.” His eyes filled with heat. The way he said my name sent a shiver of longing through me. One I hadn’t felt since the night before my wedding. With this very same man who’d kissed me and set my entire world on fire.

“I’m…” Oh, God. The way he was looking at me hurt as much as it spurred me on.

The warmth in his gaze was distant and removed, but the cold that should’ve settled low in my stomach was no match for the inferno that burned there. This wasn’t him. His magic wanted me. That didn’t mean he did. Knowing that should’ve made pushing him away easier, but nothing about touching Rafe had ever been easy.

The magic inside him played his emotions with a skill as old as the stars, pushing him to take something he didn’t want. And my own need pounded with such ferocity that I had no choice but to obey its command. Not that I’d ever had much resistance when it came to Rafe in the first place.

His face hovered dangerously over mine, his lips inches away. The scent of his expensive cologne enveloped me, and I sighed despite myself. He smelled like a time when I knew how to laugh without it making my chest ache.

But underneath that spicy scent of a freshly shaved man with more stubbornness than heart was a scent I knew well. One I might not have picked up on if my magic wasn’t currently speaking to his. Guilt. My constant companion.

The things we needed to say to each other hung in the air, neither of us wanting to recognize it any more than we wanted to recognize the specter of the third person who would always stand between us. The one who was first and somehow managed to be the end.

Kyle always did like having the last word.

I placed a hand on Rafe’s chest with every intention of gathering my sanity and ending whatever was happening before it could start, but he felt so good. So warm and solid. Funny how a guy I hadn’t spoken to in over four years, who hated me with every fiber of his being, could still feel like home.

And as Thomas Wolfe had impressed upon every English lit major in the last fifty years, home was a place you could never go again.

Still, my fingers curled into the crisp white shirt he wore, the linen scratchy against my skin. My nipples tightened as my nails brushed against the muscles he kept well hidden beneath his polished veneer. A different kind of armor than the one I chose, but armor nonetheless. He let out a shuddered breath and the vibration of it curled my toes, but I couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything other than hold him steady and wait.

A hunger bloomed in his icy eyes, like the thick unfurling of hyacinth petals in the spring, a slow and steady beat that drew me toward him while I fought—not as hard as I should’ve—against it. His fingers dug into my arms. Pinpricks of heat danced along my skin.

“I don’t want you.” He spit the words at my feet. Like the lie was too bitter for his tongue. “I’ve never wanted you.”

“Then let me go.” My voice held the barest hint of a tremor, but I wouldn’t lower my eyes. Not for anyone, but especially not for him.

A broken and anguished plea dimmed the light in his eyes. “I can’t.”

And then he swallowed whatever response I might’ve made before the words had a chance to form on my lips. His kiss four years ago had been hard and brutal, like he wanted to punish himself for doing it and me for letting him. I stiffened my spine, preparing for the same, hating myself for how bad I wanted it.

But he didn’t take me with the torment that swam in his open eyes. He was so angry with me. So angry with himself. But the press of his perfectly bowed lips was soft. Sweet. Reverent. I could handle angry, aloof, or unwilling. But I hadn’t fortified myself against his gentleness.

I’d never been a match for the man Rafe kept behind bricked-up walls.

His tongue slid against the seam of my lips, hesitantly, as if he was already certain I wouldn’t let him in. But how could I do anything else?

Our eyes remained open, staring at each other. Revealing whatever lies we both could’ve kept safe if we’d closed them and given in to sensation. As he tilted my head to deepen the kiss, a soft moan escaped from my throat. A rusty, stilted sound. As if I’d been holding it in for years, waiting for the right person to set it free.

Why did that person have to be Rafe? Why had it always been Rafe?

Clutching his shirt tighter, I dragged him closer as he continued to make slow, sexy love to my mouth. If he’d swooped in and taken control or had exhibited any kind of demand, I would’ve been able to push him away by now. No problem. I had no place in my life for men who took more than they were willing to give. But Rafe had never taken the road most expected.

How had he been so perfectly designed to destroy me?

His hands caressed the firm globe of my ass, sweet and soft kneading before he lifted me up, slowly dragging me along his rock-hard length, giving me every opportunity in the world to stop him. And when I didn’t? When I instead urged him on? I’d once again be left alone with my shame, and have no one to share that burden.

That thought alone should’ve been enough to make me pull away, but my magic was dipping and swirling within me, tossing me into dark waves of desire with no life jacket. I was tired of fighting, of being alone, of trying to pretend like I didn’t care. My magic had snapped the last of my will and self-preservation as if it were little more than a twig on the forest floor.

Rafe’s thumb brushed my collarbone, touching it with such care, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think this meant something to him.

“Don’t do this,” I whispered. Though I didn’t know if I was talking to him or trying to reason with myself. “Please.”

I couldn’t keep the tears from gathering in my eyes. It had taken me years to bring the pain of losing Rafe down to a dull and manageable throbbing. This would undo all my hard work, and I wouldn’t go back again. I couldn’t live through it a second time.

He pulled back, his lust-clouded eyes widening with horror. Blinding white light burned from his hands. I peered over his shoulder, where my books, pictures, and vase hovered in the air, now joined by a water glass. My beach had disappeared.

“Fuck. I never meant to—” He clenched his fist at his side and a lamp flew off my end table, smashing against the crevice where the door met the ceiling. I yelped as bits of plaster and glass rained down on us.

Covering my head, I ducked to avoid getting cut. Rafe spun around, taking in the objects that still hung suspended in the air. He released me and took a step back, pushing his hand out to block anything else that might fly our way. The objects instantly dropped to the ground. My water glass smashed to bits on the hardwood floor.

Bright blue light still lingered on my palms as he spun around, though it was growing dimmer. His eyes narrowed on me before he shifted his gaze over my shoulder. I peered behind me at the open space where my door had been. It was gone. It had just disappeared without warning. I hadn’t even felt the woosh of cool air from the hallway at my back.

Because it wasn’t real.

The moment he let go of me, I’d wanted an escape. So my mind created a false one. A projection of whatever I’d been seeing inside my head. But Rafe didn’t seem to know the difference. Hardening his jaw, he gave me one last fleeting look of regret before he marched toward the door. And slammed headfirst into solid wood.

“Oh, my God. Are you okay?” I clutched his arm to steady him.

“I’m fine.” He tried to wave me away. “Don’t touch me. You’ll make it worse.”

But it was too late. His hands sparked with bright white light, and the brilliant blue light on mine glowed hotter. Once again, my door disappeared, and this time, my couch began to lift off the ground. Before I could let go of Rafe, a second lamp flew off my other end table and slammed into the back of his head.

As if in slow motion, he swayed for a bit, before collapsing at my feet. Completely knocked out. I checked to make sure he was breathing okay and rubbed my hands over my face.

Now what?

Donovan banged on the door. “Everything okay in there?”

“Great,” I said. No way was I telling Donovan a flying lamp had knocked out Rafe. He’d think I threw it at him, and I didn’t need to give the town any more ammunition against me.

Sweating and huffing, I lifted Rafe under the arms and dragged him to the couch. His dead weight was no joke. He already outweighed me by eighty pounds of muscle, which felt like triple that. And while I was in fine shape from all the hiking tours I’d led for years, there was only so much I could do. Eventually, I shoved the upper half of his body into an awkward position on my couch, then pulled his legs up, leaving his delicious ass dangling over the edge.

It would have to do.

Wiping the back of my hand across my brow, I gazed down at the man who still held every bit of my heart in his careless hands. When he woke up, there would be a reckoning. A settlement of debts from our past. And I still wasn’t sure which way the scales would tip.

Yep. Everything was just fucking great.