1 Witchy Business (10 page)

“I must have Renoir’s
Picnic on the Grass
. For my collection,” Niall said suddenly.

“I think that’s in a museum.”

“It is. I will have to ask Marie to find out which one.”

“Better amp up your security before you add a Renoir to your gallery room.”

He nodded. “Yes. There is that.”

He took my hand as we were walking and interlaced his fingers with mine. It was such a wonderful feeling that I didn’t fight it, not even in my head.

Niall’s choice of restaurant seemed like the kind of place that would ordinarily require a reservation weeks in advance. Yet, we managed to just walk right in. Part of it was obviously that he had money and connections, but I got the feeling that it wasn’t just that. This was the kind of place that would have found a certain cachet in turning away the rich or famous.

In the end, it came down to Niall’s simple charm, at least of the magically enhanced variety, that got us in the door in a sweep of welcome.

I’d always been taught that warlocks were weaker than witches, but one burst of power from Niall had half the restaurant in the palm of his hand. Waiters rushed around moving tables, making room for us, asking if there was anything they could do to help…

“That was incredible,” I said, when our appetizers arrived within minutes.

“I’m sure you could have done more,” Niall replied, which was an answer that made me shake my head.

“I’ve never had that kind of power.”

“Never had it, or never used it?” Niall let that thought hang there for a moment or two before switching the subject. “You were brought up within the coven?”

I nodded. “My mother was quite high up in it. Annette Chambers.”

“Was it her who taught you to be afraid of your abilities?”

That earned him a sharp look from me.

“I don’t mean to insult your mother, Elle,” Niall said. “Truly, I’m sure she loved you a great deal. Just as I’m sure she was doing what she felt was best to protect you. It must have been nice, to be so protected.”

Ouch.

I thought of all the tutors my mother had hired, the ones who had been so careful to explain the dangers of my magic, so that I didn’t hurt myself in the ways in which so many young enchantresses did.

When children with powers are coming into their own, they naturally do crazy things to test their powers and the sad fact was that not all witch children lived through their childhood. For enchantresses though, it was worse. Every day was a battle to keep the world from overwhelming my senses, and as a child? How many enchantresses like me had perished, gone mad or worse because they didn’t have the help I did? I hadn’t thought until then just how much effort my mother had gone to in order to keep me safe and sane.

“Growing up, you didn’t have that kind of help?” I guessed.

“I had a teacher, a long time ago, but I have been alone for a while now. I’ve had to work out a lot of things for myself.”

“Like what you did to get the table?” I looked around at all the other diners. “You have to be careful with that kind of thing, Niall. Using so much power for something like that…don’t you ever worry? About whether it’s right? About whether it’s safe?”

“You want to know if I have ever hurt anyone?” Niall asked. He didn’t seem angry that I’d more or less just accused him of behaving unethically. “Elle, it’s like any other variant of power. We can use it for good or ill. Or are you telling me that you have never used your own abilities in the course of your job?”

Of course I had. But I’d never used them just to get a table somewhere. I’d never used them for something so trivial. But how could I say that without seeming accusatory?

“What about the risks?” I asked instead.

Niall reached out and touched my hand then, just lightly, but the contact seemed strangely electric. “What risks did they tell you existed, Elle? What did they warn would happen if you went too far in exploring your powers?”

He made it sound like they were threatening a child with monsters under the bed, but I knew better than that. I’d felt the edges of it when I got into places with too much emotion. Even here, in the restaurant, I had to keep my powers locked down and my emotions shielded to avoid the rush of feelings that swirled around me in every direction.

“What did they say would happen, Elle?” Niall repeated.

“Madness.” The word came out quietly. “They said I would go mad. That my power would eat me from the inside. And they were right, Niall. I’ve felt it. A big room, too many people…it’s too much.” I paused. “You must know what I mean.”

“I do.” This touch was gentle. Soothing. Warmth bloomed from the point of his tender contact to my extremities.

“Are you using magic on me?” I asked him.

Niall shook his head. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. Even the weakest of what we are can keep out the powers of others, and you…you are stronger than me, Elle, whatever you think.” He lifted a glass of wine. “A toast: to us, the only people who can be truly certain of what we feel.”

That was easy for him to say. Right then, I wasn’t sure
what
I felt.

“To us,” I echoed.

The Orkney Lobster was divine. He had ordered the same thing and we savored it together.

 “Now,” Niall said, “I have to ask you. Do you trust me, Elle?”

“No.” That was too blunt. “I’m sorry. It’s my job not to trust anyone. Then there’s my training. I was taught to close myself off, for protection.”

“What a shame, when you are capable of so much that you don’t even know exists.”

Niall left it there, talking of simpler things, my job and my life, while the next few courses came. Almost before I knew it, the chocolate coulant came, whisked before us like a religious offering. We lifted our mouthfuls at the same time, our eyes on each other. I thought I would pass out from how delicious it was.

“You like this place?” he asked, seeming to sense my train of thought.

“I love it. Thank you.”

 “You’re worth it,” he said quietly, and in that moment, I realized I could feel the chatter of the restaurant as my shields slipped slightly. Knowing what everyone else felt wasn’t as worrying as what I felt, though. I liked Niall.
A lot.

“Will you at least give me a chance to show you that some people can be trusted?” Niall stood, holding out his hand. It felt like another test, so I took it.

After they brought back his credit card, he said, “Ready?”

“Are we going somewhere?”

He smiled, still holding onto my hand. “You’ll see.”

He led me out of the restaurant, walking with me through the Edinburgh evening, first on the waterfront and then heading into the middle of the city, where there were people out on every side, enjoying the kind of nightlife that only a city built on its tourist reputation could offer. It was only as I started to guess the direction we were taking that I began to tense up.

“Trust me, Elle,” Niall said. “The night is too beautiful to leave it here and go home. I promise you, I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Even so, when we reached the club, it was hard not to pull back against his hold on my hand.

“We should go back to where Trixie is parked. Aren’t you worried?”

“No, I left a shield around her. A layer of fear. Anyone who gets too close will feel distinctly…uncomfortable.”

“Oh, of course you did.” I paused. “Niall—”

“Elle, please. I want to take you dancing.”

“But we can’t. Dinner was one thing, but dancing with someone whose case I am investigating…no, I can’t. Niall.”

That was what I said. What I
felt
…that was all about the fear worming its way up through me. The fear of what would happen if I stepped into the middle of a crowded club. The onslaught of feelings that would crush me utterly.

Niall nodded firmly. “We can.” He put an arm around me, and I could feel the tight strength of him pressed up against me. “You won’t go mad, Elle. I promise. I won’t let you. I will be right there with you every moment.”

I glanced down, still trying to find an excuse. “They won’t even let us in. I mean, I’m still in my work clothes.”

“And even dressed like that, you will still be the most beautiful woman in the room,” Niall whispered. He drew me forward gently to the door, where not only did they let us in, but they didn’t even make us wait in line. Right then, it seemed impossible to resist him.

Inside, the steady thrum of the music was almost deafening. People were crushed together in a space that barely seemed big enough to hold them all, wedged between a bar and a small stage. On the stage, a DJ was pumping out track after track at a volume that made it feel like the music was pulsing right through my body.

The music and the emotions both moved through me like a psychic river. I clamped down on my talents as tightly as I could, standing there with my fists balled, closing my eyes against the multicolored flare of strobe lights, while around me I could feel fierce waves of feelings battering against the edges of my shields. Joy and exhilaration, desire and the simple need to be one with the rest of that huddled sea of flesh…I couldn’t keep it out. I couldn’t.

“Breathe, Elle,” Niall said, standing in front of me, taking my hands, rubbing my fingers and my palms with utter gentleness. Somehow, his presence seemed like a calm spot amid the rest of it. “Breathe and let it in.”

“Let it in?” There barely seemed to be enough of me to shape the words among all the chaos that was battering against me. “I can’t. It will crush me. I can’t.”

“You can,” Niall said softly, his fingers running gently across my knuckles. “I’m doing it. Do I look mad to you?”

I opened my eyes then, staring at him in something that felt close to wonder. How could he stand there so calmly in this thumping, thrumming bucket of people’s emotions, not to mention ours? Why wasn’t he bunched tight with tension like I was, trying to keep out the raw power of the emotions around us? Or, if he really did have his defenses down, why wasn’t he on his knees, clutching at his head and going steadily insane?

“Trust me, Elle,” Niall said. “Let it in. All of it. I am with you here and I shall not forsake you.”

I wasn’t sure what it was in his voice that I latched onto in that moment, but there was something in that vow that I knew without thinking that I could trust. Something utterly reassuring. Something that made it sound like nothing in the world could hurt me if he was at my side. Since I was standing there, my whole head feeling like a tin shack with people pounding on the walls from outside, that had to be better, didn’t it?

I took a breath, then I let my defenses drop. All of them.

The first rush of emotion from the crowd almost overwhelmed me. I couldn’t even pick out individual emotions in that second. There was just a wall of feeling, only it wasn’t a wall, because walls couldn’t have run through me, feeling like a hundred people were trying to fit into my skin all at once. For a moment, I thought I might fall, but I felt strong hands holding me up. His hands. Holding me in place and steady while more emotion poured into me. Poured in past my brain and straight into my soul with the glorious collective emotion of a crowd having fun and letting loose, going wild, sexuality and even spirituality seeming to blend into one thing as they moved to the music.

The second wave of emotion that hit me was more detailed, more fragmented. It wasn’t one huge roar of feelings. It was dozens of separate sensations, all distinct, all happening at once.

I moaned with it and swayed. I could feel the disappointment of the girl standing in the corner who must been stood up by someone. I could feel the pure, simple happiness of someone who just loved the feeling of the beat running through them. I could feel the love and lust of the couples dancing too close to one another. It was still too much. I almost pulled back then. I almost slammed down my shields like shutters.