Free Wickedly Magical by Deborah Blake

bunch of flowers.
    “How pretty!” Grace said, leaning in to see. She gazed at it greedily, hanging on to Jonathan’s arm. “If you do come to live with us, Miss Volkova, maybe you’ll let me borrow it sometime.”
    Barbara gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Perhaps. But you must be careful. It is quite sharp.”
    With this, she plucked it out of Jonathan’s fingers and plunged it into the fleshy part of his thumb, thus proving her point and distracting him long enough that she could reach over and pull the medallion out from underneath his shirt. Holding the flowers in her other hand, she ground them firmly into the center of the necklace until they disintegrated into a shower of tattered petals and dusty pollen. Then she pulled the pin out again, leaving a bright bubble of crimson blood welling up to drip on the once-pristine tablecloth.
    “Oops,” she said blithely. “Sorry about that.”
    “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jonathan yelled at her, clutching the medallion tightly in his wounded hand. “Are you crazy?” He’d clearly decided that no amount of money was worth being attacked by a crazy woman at his own table. “Hugo, get her out of here!”
    Hugo started to rise, but Barbara just gazed at him. “Really, Hugo? What are you going to do? Hit an old lady?”
    Looking confused, Hugo sat back down again.
    Jonathan sputtered at him. “Hugo! Get up! Do what I tell you!” He tucked the medallion back inside his shirt, ignoring the blood dripping off his hand, and pressed it hard against his skin. “Hugo, you know you want this woman to leave. Make her leave!”
    Barbara chuckled. “I’m afraid your little toy won’t work anymore, Mr. Bellingwood. Or should I call you Mr. Bell?” Around the room, people were exchanging bewildered glances, as if suddenly waking to find themselves in an unexpected place.
    She raised her voice, so everyone could hear her. “I’m sorry to say that you have all been the victims of trickery.” With one deceptively frail-looking hand, she reached out and yanked the necklace out of Jonathan’s grip, breaking the chain in the process, and leaving a red welt to add to his other wound. She held the medallion up to show them. “This little trinket had the ability to influence your minds, making you do whatever this man wanted you to do, including giving him most of your money, apparently.”
    A murmur of whispered discussion flowed around the table like a sea serpent, a mixture of confusion, anger, and sorrow.
    “You are now free to make your own choices,” Barbara continued, ignoring the babble. “Stay if you want, or go. But this time it will be of your own free will.”
    One attractive woman midway down the table sighed and shrugged her shoulders in resignation. “Hell, men have been lying to me all my life. At least here the food is good, and no one is slapping me around. I’m staying.” A couple of others seemed to agree, but most of the group didn’t take the news quite so well.
    The older couple from the end of the table stared at Jonathan with horror and disgust, the man furious and the woman in tears. They stopped in front of him long enough for the man to say, “I can’t believe I let you talk us into signing this ranch over to you. You’ll be hearing from our lawyer.” He put his arm around his weeping wife and they walked away with their shoulders bowed.
    A curvy brunette with bright blue eyes shoved her chair away from the table so hard it fell over, marched up to Jonathan, and slapped his face with enough force to leave her handprint glowing for a moment in the midst of his artificially tanned cheek. “You son of a bitch. I can’t believe I left my husband for you. Yes, he’s kind of boring, but at least he’s a good man, and never lied to me. I hope like hell he’ll take me back after the way I treated him.” She walked away without a backward glance, only stopping long enough to grab a gangly ten-year-old boy from the kids’