“Yada Yada. Are you we going to do this or what?”
“Do I really have a choice?” I said, sounding reluctant, which I totally was. I didn’t really want to do this anymore than she did.
“Nope. And no more funny business.”
I rolled my eyes again. Yet this time there weren’t any antics from Emma. Facing each other on the sofa, I sat on one of my legs and made my mind go blank. She and I were both on our best behavior…
Because I compelled her.
I couldn’t explain how I’d done it.
Emma’s eyes went from lively and teasing to wide and spacey. Her iris got big, the deep green in her them almost disappearing. Staring at her, I got freaked out. I had her under my spell so to speak and now…now I didn’t know what to do. Did I have her do cartwheels around the room? Jump on the couch and squawk like a monkey? The possibilities were endless and payback was at my fingertips, except none of that was appealing.
Emma had put her trust in me, just as I had put my trust in her when she saved me as hard as that had been. I wasn’t about to break this friendship we just had started to form. Angling me head, I briefly wondered how much control I had over this compulsion. I really didn’t have a clue what I was doing or how it worked.
How the hell was I going to get her dad under my enthrall?
This had to be the absolutely worse plan in the universe.
Finally, I just decided to make Emma my cook. All this mind control stuff had made me hungry. My stomach rumbled. “Emma,” I said in the calmest voice I could manage. “I want you to make me a turkey sandwich.”
Like a robot, she mechanically stood up from the couch and started rummaging in the fridge pulling out food. I turned in my seat, resting my chin on the back of the couch and watched her. “Can you bring me a Dr. Pepper too? I’m dying of thirst.”
She immediately brought a can and even popped the tab from me. Oh man, this was great.
Emma made a mean sandwich. “This is really good,” I said with a mouth full.
I wiped a smidge of mustard from the side of my mouth, and then just like that, while I was chomping away, Emma snapped out of my hold. I didn’t have any idea how I had dropped the veil. I sucked at being anything but human, and even then I had a hard time staying alive.
She shook her strawberry blonde head like she was trying to clear any remnants of me poking around in her brain and shot me a glare. “Did you just make me your bitch?”
I choked on my Dr. Pepper, spraying it all over us both and laughed. “I highly doubt you making me a sandwich constitutes as you being my bitch.”
She shuddered beside me. “Whatever. Don’t try that crap on me again. I don’t like it.”
“That’s something we can both agree on.” I didn’t like it either, honestly. It felt too Godly to control someone with my mind. “Can I just say that you are much more agreeable when you are compelled.”
She whacked me on the side of my head with one of the decorative pillows, and I had to bite back another laugh before I snorted burning pop through my nose. I shoved the last bite of my sandwich in my mouth and went looking for Chase before Emma could find something else to smack me with.
I found him in his bedroom, lounging on his bed with his laptop. A chunk of hair flopped over his forehead. He propped his arms behind his head as I walked into his room. “So I’m guessing from that silly grin on your face that you can compel her?”
It was more of a dazed grin, and I couldn’t seem to control it. “Did you doubt that I could?”
“Doubt? No. Hoped you couldn’t? Absolutely.”
My smile slipped.
He set aside his laptop and edged to the end of the bed. “Look Angel, I am not trying to discredit the sense of accomplishment you are feeling. I just…I just wish it wasn’t you.”
“I know. Me too,” I admitted, sitting next to him on the bed.
He wrapped me in his arms, and I hung on for dear life. “This isn’t going to end well,” he whispered.
***
I figured we would have time to prepare. More time to practice me messing with people’s heads. More time to come up with a solid plan. But time wasn’t on our side. What I hoped was going to be a week or more turned out to be hours.
Something was going down, and no one was telling me a damn thing. Travis was jazzed. Emma was back to being snappy and brooding. And Chase was just too keyed up. But I’d come to my own conclusions.
Shit was about to get real. It was go time.
“Let’s rock,” Travis said, grinning with a deep dimple on either side of his cheeks.
Chapter 27