Read Something Wicked for Free Online Page B

hell? But Al was scooting over to make room for his partner in the booth.

    Apparently we’d both been set up. If I thought I could talk, at that moment, I would’ve ripped Al a new one. But the clutch in my throat almost blocked breathing, much less speech.

    With a suspicious glance from Al to me and back, Ben took a single step back. He had no intention of joining us.

    Good!

    His gaze met and then veered from mine, another smile there and then gone. I braced myself for the same reaction I’d had in the police station, when his brother grinned right at me.

    Instead, I found myself noticing his dark lashes, the angle of his jaw and the slope of his tanned neck into his T-shirt collar. Though not a big man, not beside Al anyway, Ben Fisher had the tight build of a runner or a swimmer, and did I find him attractive?

    Damn, I was one sick woman, wasn’t I?

    Luckily, Ben had turned a more direct stare to his business partner. “Considering what you were discussing when I got here, I’m not thinking it’s something I should involve myself in. No offense, Ms.…”

    His gaze darted back to mine—and stuck. The only thing that nudged me out of my silence was that Al was about to speak. I was suddenly so furious at Al Barker for manipulating us that I didn’t want to hear his voice or his excuses, radio-quality or not.

    “Trillo,” I said sharply. “I’m Kate Trillo.”

    Ben’s olive complexion went pale. “Oh, my God. That’s where… Oh, God. Al…!”

    I was already turning on his friend. “Stay away from me, Barker. Stay away from my family. Don’t talk about us on your sorry excuse of a radio program. And on the record? Go to hell.”

    I stood to stalk out, but Ben Fisher followed. “Ms. Trillo, I had no idea. I’m so sorry. I mean, I’m sorry for your loss, too.”

    “Not as sorry as I am.”

    Some young women who’d been giggling in the back corner booth fell suspiciously silent. I think they were checking out Ben’s butt.

    “No, I’m sure you’re right,” he agreed. “I won’t assume to know what you’re going through, but I didn’t know about this. I wouldn’t have imposed, if I’d had any idea what Al…”

    I spun on him. But my fury ebbed at the distress I saw in his intense eyes, on his open face. No, he couldn’t be as sorry as I was. He hadn’t just seen the last of his immediate family wiped out. But neither had he done anything wrong.

    I felt his innocence, in whatever energies connected us. And damn it, I couldn’t hate the guy.

    His brother was still fair game. But with Ben, I’d already made one hell of a mistake. Words from the week before echoed back at me. I wish you agony, Ben Fisher. I wish you despair….

    Not good.

    His expression asked me to believe him, even as he backed away to give me space. A shrug seemed to say that I could take my time, that he was sorry for pressing me.

    The person I’d been barely a week ago, the nurse, the healer, responded. Why did I have to have cursed a nice guy?

    The person I’d become needed to know more about whether it had even worked. About curses in general.

    “You’re some sort of expert on the supernatural, right?” I asked suddenly.

    His head came up. “I don’t know if anyone could be classified as an expert, the subject’s so fluid, but sure, I’ve got a working grasp of the theories.”

    Uh-huh. “Why do you call your Web site Superrational?”

    “Our viewpoint is that there’s a rational explanation for almost everything that’s considered supernatural,” explained Ben, squinting slightly as if studying something I couldn’t see. “The natural in supernatural. The normal in paranormal. Finding it takes some of the fright factor out of it.”

    “So you’re one of those debunkers?” I folded my arms. I hated skeptics and debunkers with their single-minded cynicism. They always seemed so…mean.

    “No! Not at all. Debunkers are pessimists about human nature. They tend to think that