Dark Fates (A Paranormal Anthology)(64)

“Relax, human who belongs to my brother. No one is going to hurt you.”

A load groan sounded next to the man who had spoken. The woman who spoke sounded annoyed. “Don’t talk to her like that. She doesn’t belong to your brother, fleabag. Humans don’t own each other. She’s her own person, and she’s clearly just had a vision, so why don’t you just shut the hell up?”

“Woman.” The man growled.

Chelsea’s eyes cleared, and she stared for a second. There wasn’t much time, and maybe he could help Hayden. If not, she was going to go find Sal. Finally, she spoke to the man. “You said Hayden was your brother?”

“I am Savage.” She’d heard that name.

“I’ve had a vision, and I’m going to lose my memory of it, but someone has to go help Hayden. He’s in danger of doing something that will be horrible for him. He’s going to sacrifice years’ worth of progress he’s made toward letting go of the past. Please, someone has to find him.”

“Is he in danger?” A growl sounded from his mouth. “Sal said he’d only gone to scout things out.”

“Please, I can’t argue with you. The longer I wait, the less chance I’ll have of remembering. He’s going to torture one of the True Believers.”

The woman spoke again. “Why are you going to lose your memory of the second-sight? Drink your shake and move on.”

Her words didn’t make any sense. “Shake?”

“I told you, Viola, that my brother said she loses her visions. They fade. You are here to help her with that. And, evidently, I have to find out what has happened to Hayden.”

Savage looked an awful lot like Hayden. The same dark hair, the same broad shoulders. But where Hayden clothed himself in a very low-key manner, Savage wore all black and had two earrings, one in each lobes, with dark eyeliner under his eyes. She supposed he would be called Goth. It was a good look for him, but not one that would work on Hayden.

She preferred her quiet winemaker. Oh God, she hoped Savage could find him and make him stop before he injured his soul again.

Viola spoke again. “How have you been surviving if you haven’t been taking your herbs?” She stood tall with bright blonde hair and striking blue eyes. The other woman had a Marilyn Monroe birthmark in the same place. If Chelsea wasn’t already so freaked out, she’d ask Viola if she had done deliberately tried to resemble the actress or if it had been just a genetic anomaly.

Of course, Chelsea wasn’t getting warm fuzzy vibes from Viola. She’d keep the question to herself permanently.

“What the hell are you talking about?” But she wasn’t going to remain in bed all day and let the woman speak nonsense. That was when it dawned on her that she was naked. She gasped and tugged the blankets up to her neck. Hayden’s brother and this stranger had just seen her nude. He must have gotten at least a good view of her breasts. Heat shot up her neck, making her cheeks hot.

“Now you notice you’re baring it all?” Viola laughed. “Don’t worry. As much as I admire other women’s beauty, and you’re cute, I don’t swing that way. And I would guess that you smell so much like his brother that Savage didn’t give it much thought either. But put on some clothes and meet me downstairs. I have to get out of this room. The bedroom furniture is horrendous. It feels like it’s attacking me with its tastelessness.”

With that, Viola turned on her heel and strode from the room. Chelsea let out the breath she held. If Viola could help her, then that was great. If not, then Chelsea was going to knock the woman out. The furniture attacked her? Some people needed more to do with their time.

****

By the time Chelsea got down to the kitchen, Viola had torn it apart. Apparently, they didn’t have anything that she needed to make some kind of shake she insisted Chelsea had to drink. It took two trips to three different stores, but they eventually ended up back at Hayden’s kitchen counter using a newly purchased blender.

Chelsea didn’t have any money, but Viola didn’t care one bit. She’d paid for everything without blinking at the cost. In fact, the other woman had stayed all but utterly silent the entire time they’d been out of the house. Not that Chelsea particularly wanted to chat, but the silent treatment was really, really off-putting.

What was this woman’s deal?

Viola threw the remainder of the groceries down on the counter before she rounded on Chelsea with her pointer finger wagging at her like some kind weapon. “I just don’t get it. What’s wrong with you? It’s hard enough on those of us with the Gift without you getting caught by the psycho scientists and dragging the Wolves into our business. Why couldn’t you take your herbs and keep quiet?”

Enough was enough. “I don’t have a f*cking idea what you’re talking about.” She pointed her own finger back at Viola. “I don’t know who you are. I don’t know about any herbs. I only know that I’ve been through hell—years of it—and I didn’t involve the Wolves. I happen to be mated to one of them, even though that shocked the hell out of me.”

“Are you tell me that you have lived your whole life without taking the concoction? That’s not possible. They would have locked you away as a child.” Viola narrowed her gaze.

“I didn’t have these problems as a child. I inherited them when my grandmother died. No money, no family, nowhere to live, but the ability to see many futures? That I got. So don’t talk to me about what should have been.” Who did this woman think she was?