Page 14 of Fated Moons
“Excuse me?” She glared at him with narrowed eyes, making sure she didn’t accidentally stab him with her mind. “You expect me to call a car service?”
He shook his head. “Not at all.”
“Then what? Because if you think I’m spending the night, you better protect your crown jewels. I won’t hesitate to kick you.”
That got his attention as he squirmed in his seat. “Look. This movie is make-or-break for both of us. We’ve never worked together, much less had a conversation with each other.Spending time alone will only give us a better shot at proving to the world I’m still on top and you’ve got what it takes to be a leading lady.”
Sitting up taller, she smoothed down the front of her slacks. “Having lunch together is one thing, but I’m not spending the night at your cabin. Is this how you treat all your co-stars?”
He turned his head and dared to wink. “I’m not planning on hitting on you. I no longer sleep with actresses or anyone I work with. This gives us time to figure each other out so we can jump into our roles?—”
“Do you feel that?” A sudden chill floated across her skin just as the steering wheel jerked to the left, into the other lane, into the path of an eighteen-wheeler.
She screamed in unison with the loud, long horn from the truck barreling down the road.
Jackson growled as his muscles flexed, but the steering wheel didn’t budge. “Hold on,” he yelled, trying to shimmy the wheel right and left, but nothing.
“Out of the cauldron, into the light, send this vehicle to the right.” She waved her hands, and the fairy dust flowing from her fingers curled around the wheel. Just before the truck whizzed by, the Jeep jerked back into the proper lane.
“What the fuck was that?” Jackson slammed on the brakes, pulling off to the side, glaring at her with a snarl. “I hate magic. Don’t ever use it again.”
“If I hadn’t, we would have hit that truck head-on.” Her voice trembled, weakened from the quick spell that almost hadn’t worked. “We’re lucky I even had a spell that would deal with something like that.” She also wondered how much of the vehicle jerking back to the proper lane had been her magic or the dust clinging to the steering wheel.
“I had it handled.”
“Right, because your brawn is stronger than black magic.” She could still feel the darkness of the black magic circling above their heads like a vulture waiting for its prey to die.
He lowered his chin, raising his eyelids. “Excuse me?”
“I felt it just as your car veered to the left. It was cold. Clammy.” She hugged her middle. “I’ve never felt anything like that before, but I know that’s what it was. The protection spell my father put on me weakened the magic, but whoever used the black magic meant to hurt one or both of us.”
He ran a hand down his face, letting his index finger and thumb come together at the base of his chin. “You think some witch tried to kill us with black magic?”
“I don’t know who it was meant for because I didn’t feel it until it was almost too late. This is why you should let my father or me cast a protection spell, though his would be stronger.”
“And what about that fairy dust? I saw it and felt it. That’s some pretty powerful stuff. It took hold of my muscles and pushed the steering wheel and the vehicle back to the other lane. Did you conjure that up too?” He arched a brow.
“No. That happened without me doing anything and I’m not sure what to do about that.”
“Maybe I should just pack it in and forget about this film altogether,” he muttered, dropping his head back. “I wasn’t even given the chance to sleep on the idea of working with you, and regardless of your father’s kind spirit, your family and their witch supporters have had it in for me from the day my father pulled the trigger. I wouldn’t put it past any of them to have a voodoo doll, and right now, they are getting ready to carve out my kidneys for fun.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous. And for the record, we don’t use voodoo dolls.”
He let out a long breath. “Really? Then why do I need a protection spell?”
4
When Jackson first moved back to New York, he wanted a place to come and be alone—his own personal sanctuary, away from the city and the media. A place where he could escape being the son of a murderer. A place where he could be free of the stares and scrutiny that came with being Reed Ledger’s son. His siblings believed things wouldn't have been so hard if he’d chosen a different career.
And perhaps they were right.
But it wasn’t like he’d set out to be an actor. He’d been all of eighteen when his first role landed in his lap. He’d been working as a janitor because no one else would hire him. He didn’t care. It was a job. It was money and food on the table. Anything to help out his mom and help give his siblings a better shot at a normal life.
He’d been working at the studio lot, finishing up his shift. It was close to six in the morning, and he was itching to get a run in before the sun came out when an up-and-coming director strolled down the hallway.
He stopped, looked him over from head to toe, and asked if he wanted to read for a role in his movie. Jackson laughed. Hethought it was a joke. But then the director dragged his ass into a room where Jackson did exactly what the man told him to do. Next thing Jackson knew, he had a secondary role in one of the biggest box office films of the year.
And the roles kept coming after that.
