A Breath of Magic (16 page)

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Authors: Tracy Madison

BOOK: A Breath of Magic
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“Sounds rather selfish, doesn’t it? I don’t have sex with more than one woman at a time. I never have, and I don’t intend to start that habit ever. So yes, Red, if we’re going to continue to see each other, to sleep with each other, then I want to know there’s no other man in your bed when I’m not there.”

“Can I take that as meaning there will also be no other women in your bed when
I’m
not there?”

“Isn’t that what I said? I’m not in the frame of mind to share you, and I hope you’re not in the frame of mind to share me.”

“I agree! No sharing!” I nearly yelled. Damn, this was good news. On every freaking level. I mean, no, he hadn’t exactly declared his love for me, but we were one step closer. I was sure of it. “I’m glad I stopped in tonight,” I murmured. “Really, really glad.”

“Me too, though if you hadn’t, we would’ve had this conversation over the phone.”

“This is much better.”

“Yes, it is.” The blue of his eyes darkened. He swept his gaze over my face and his fingers tightened their hold on my head. “I don’t understand my reaction to you.”

“Geez, thanks. That’s something every girl wants to hear,” I mumbled.

He leaned over and kissed my forehead. “What I mean”—he kissed my nose—“is that you’re”—he moved his lips to my ear, bringing his teeth down oh so lightly on the lobe—“affecting me in a way that I’ve never experienced.”

“Not even with Sara?” I whispered, my entire body awash in trembles and shivers. His mouth continued to tickle and tantalize my skin. “And not since Sara?”

“Never with anyone. This is a completely new experience for me. It’s…you’re…intoxicating.” His tongue found my neck in a hot rush of fire.

“Well, that’s okay, then. I like being intoxicating.” While
my body responded to his touches, to his caresses, a twisty, almost uncomfortable, sensation pressed in.
Why
was I intoxicating to Ben? Because of magic, because of my wishes and wants or because of me?

He kissed and suckled down my neck, and I moaned in response. I tried to set the squirmy feelings aside, tried to focus wholly on the wonderful sensation of Ben’s mouth on me, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what Elizabeth had said to me weeks ago about wanting to be with a man who wanted to be with me for me and not because of magic, not because of a spell.

The truth of those words sank in as they hadn’t before. Because yes, I desperately yearned for Ben to want me all on his own, and while I’d accepted that without the magic, we wouldn’t be sitting here now, that didn’t mean I liked it. Panic started to build in my chest, nearly overtaking the intimacy of Ben’s lips on me, but then I remembered that where we ended up was what mattered. Not how we started. I let my anxiety go and turned myself completely over to Ben.

His hand eased under my shirt, traveling up my back. With what could only be a practiced move, he unclasped my bra and pulled it loose so he could cup my breast. I moaned again, every part of me turned on and ready, just like that. Following his example, I pushed my hand under his shirt and stroked his back, delighting in the feel of his muscles as they tensed beneath my touch.

“Want to take this upstairs, or do you want to stay here?” His voice dripped with longing, with need. For me.

“I don’t care. Anywhere. I just want you. I…” I arched my back as his tongue drove into my mouth, hungry and forceful.

“How about here and then, later, there?” His hands were at my shirt, pulling and tugging.

“Yeah, and then maybe even later somewhere else,” I
teased, proceeding to help him remove each article of pesky clothing from both of our bodies.

We spent the next hour on the couch and then made our way to his bedroom, where we spent another delicious hour exploring each other’s bodies. Each touch, each sensation drove my need for him deeper, and by the time we curled up together, completely and utterly sated, I couldn’t imagine ever being with another man again for the rest of my life. The weight of his arm around me, the feel of his body pressed against mine and the whisper of his breath upon my ear lulled me, relaxed me, and with one last contented yawn, I drifted off, sure that everything was going to work out perfectly.

I woke with a start. My heart beat too fast in my chest and my breath erupted in tiny, wheezy bursts. Unsure of what had awakened me, because Ben still slept, I held myself motionless and just listened. Nothing, not one sound met my ears, but my heart continued to pound, and something—call it a sixth sense—told me to pay very close attention.

I took a few more minutes to come fully awake, and all the while I continued to listen, continued to trust my body that there was something going on that I needed to know. My sleepy, fog-filled brain finally cleared, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt what my instincts were trying to tell me. Mari. She’d been here, and maybe, just maybe, she still was.

Sitting up carefully, to not disturb Ben’s sleep, I swung my feet around and stood from the bed. The air felt cold—frigid, really—and I reached around in the dark, looking for the pile of clothes we’d carried upstairs with us. Finding them, I slipped Ben’s shirt over my head, the hem of it falling midthigh, and with a quick look toward Ben, I made my way to the door and eased it open as silently as possible.

Darkness loomed in the hallway, but I resisted switching
the light on. Instead, I shuffled slowly, stopping before one door and then the next, waiting for a tremble, a shiver, some physical sign that would announce when I found the right door.

It was the third from the master bedroom. One quick breath and I pushed the door open and stepped inside. I closed the door behind me before turning on the light. My chest tightened as I took in the room that had been Mari’s, fully expecting to see her, and surprised and disappointed when I didn’t. But yes, this had definitely been Mari’s bedroom. I felt her here. Beyond that…well, the room had been decorated with a teenage girl in mind.

Deep, dusty pink colored the top of her walls above the chair railing, while the bottom was painted a warm, chocolate brown. A tall, full-sized bed with a comforter dotted in light pink, mauve and brown circles, and large plush pillows in the same colors sat in between two windows that over-looked the backyard. Posters and pictures of varying sizes were hung on the walls, along with shelves that housed books, DVDs, CDs and a few leftover dolls from her child-hood. A desk with a computer, a dresser with her jewelry box, and a television rounded out her furnishings.

This room in all likelihood looked exactly the same as it had when Mari lived. The fact that Ben hadn’t changed anything here in this space spoke volumes. Maybe Mari was hanging around because he couldn’t let her go? Or perhaps he simply hadn’t felt the need to change anything yet. It wasn’t as though he needed the space.

My eyes searched the room again, and unlike earlier, when I’d pushed away the temptation to snoop, this time I followed through. I went to the desk first and opened a drawer, not even sure what I was looking for, but searching just the same. Guilt crept in as I flipped through pictures of Mari and her friends, as I sifted through papers, memorabilia and other odds and ends, but I kept searching. Closing
the top drawer, I moved on to the second, repeated my actions there and then went to the third.

My fingers barely touched the handle when I heard the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat. I jumped. With my heart in my mouth, I pivoted on one heel, completely expecting to see Ben frowning, ready to lay into me. My excuses, all of which were lame, rolled to the tip of my tongue, ready to beg Ben for his forgiveness.

Mari sat on the edge of her bed, her arms angled across her chest and her feet dangling toward the floor. Her eyes bored into me, as if she knew how nervous and guilty I felt. “Hi, Chloe,” she said, her voice so quiet I could barely hear. “What are you looking for?”

I cleared my throat. “Something to help me help you, I guess. I know there’s a reason you’re still here, but I don’t know what that reason is. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been looking through your things.”

A light smile played across her lips. “Why not? I don’t need them. But I don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for here.”

I approached her slowly, trembling, wanting to do whatever I could to help her, to help her father, but still needing to understand how. “Then tell me. Why are you still here? What help do you need?”

Her teasing smile vanished, and just as before, a single tear trickled down her cheek. Again, her sadness and desperation churned inside me as if they were my own feelings. “But I don’t know anything,” she whispered. “I don’t remember anything. I know I’m stuck here, and I think it’s because of my dad and how upset he is, but he can’t hear me. He can’t see me. So how can I make him feel better?”

“What do you remember? Let’s start there.”

Her chin trembled, and her sky blue eyes rounded. “I only have memories of feelings. I remember my mom being sad and I was mad. So mad. But I don’t know why.” Another tear
slipped out, and her voice clouded with pain. “No one but you can see me, Chloe. You are the only person who can help me.”

I swallowed past the lump that had appeared in my throat. “I need more to go on, sweetie. Every part of me wants to fix this for you, but I don’t know how. You have to give me something I can work with.”

“But there’s nothi—” Her gaze shifted to the door. “He’s looking for you now. Please help me. Help him. So I can go be with my mother. I hear her calling for me and she sounds so sad.”

“I—I’ll figure this out. I promise,” I whispered, my heart nearly breaking into two, hating how useless and inadequate I felt. “Is—” The door to Mari’s bedroom swung open so fast, so forceful that the air blew against my hair.

“What are you doing in here?” Ben’s voice was sharp, angry. “You don’t belong in here.”

I gulped and then bit my lip, knowing I couldn’t tell him the truth but not sure what else to say. “You’re right and I’m sorry. I…ah…was looking for the bathroom and stumbled in here.”

The line of his shoulders relaxed but his frown remained. He searched my face carefully, as if trying to work things out. “Okay,” he said. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“It’s okay. I…surprised you. I understand that. But can I ask you something?” He nodded, so I forced the question out of my mouth, knowing I was probably going to tick him off all over again. “Marissa’s been gone for over two years. Why does her room look as if she lived here yesterday?”

“Because I can’t bear to get rid of her belongings. It’s the same reason I still live in this house. This was her home.” Annoyance flashed bright and hot in his eyes. “Why are you so curious about my daughter?”

I gulped again, not liking this side of Ben even if I understood it. “Because you’re important to me and she is important
to you. I care about what you care about, and if that scares you then I’m sorry. But that’s the way it is.” I lifted my chin, defiant.

His face softened minutely, but his emotions were still in conflict. Finally, he huffed out a breath. “God, I completely overreacted. I’m…I’m not used to sharing any of this with anyone. Can you forgive me?”

“Yes, if you can forgive me for trampling over your personal life.”

“I can. I do.” He walked toward me and pulled me into his arms. With his lips in my hair, he murmured, “Come on. I’ll show you where the bathroom is, and then we can go back to bed.”

As we left the room, I turned back for one more peek before closing the door. Mari still sat on her bed, tears rolling down her cheeks, her thin body shaking. I blew her a kiss—the best I could do under the circumstances—and then, when Ben pulled on my hand, followed him down the hallway.

For the remaining few hours of the night, sleep refused to come. All I saw were Mari’s tears. All I felt was her heartache. And all I heard were her words, “Please help me. Help him.”

I just wished I had the slightest inkling of how.

Chapter Fifteen

The following evening I gaped at Verda, not fully trusting myself to speak. Why oh why had I told her about Mari? I’d called her that morning to clear the air about Kyle, and somehow I’d spilled the entire story. Dumb, just dumb.

She’d taken action and arrived at the Mystic Corner along with her granddaughters thirty minutes before closing. I’d sent all of them into the back room to wait, because there were several customers in the store, but now the shop was closed.

I flipped my gaze to Alice, and then to Elizabeth. “How did Verda talk you two into something so extreme?”

Verda’s faded blue eyes twinkled. “I promised I’d quit asking them to return my magic if they’d do this for you. They were quite happy to agree!”

Nice. Just…nice. “You did what? But—”

“Promises are important, Chloe!” Verda’s high-pitched voice cut me off pointedly. “They shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Yes. I realize that. But Verda, don’t you think you’re crossing a line? Promising something that—”

“No! Use what you got, that’s what I say.” She gave me her cat-that-swallowed-the-canary grin. “And you’re in a pickle and need help. So we’re here for you.”

“B-but a
séance
?” I gulped the word out, still not able to wrap my mind around the concept. “Mari talks to me without the help of a séance, so what do you think we’ll accomplish?”

“She told you that she hears her mother calling out to
her. I bet we can connect with Sara and get the answers you need.” Verda shrugged and then looked at me. “Do you have a better idea?”

Rather than answering, I returned my focus to Alice and Elizabeth, who’d yet to utter even a syllable. “You guys are really willing to do this? Séances aren’t games. They should only be performed under the direst of circumstances!”

A shudder rippled through Elizabeth. “Hey, I don’t even like Ouija boards, so I’m sure I’m not going to like this. But”—she tipped her head toward Verda—“she’s going to do this with or without our help. I’d rather be here to make sure things don’t get out of control.”

“What do you mean she’ll do this without our help? You can’t really conduct a séance without the combined energy of a group. So if we all say no, then that’s that.”

Alice squirmed in her chair. “I
want
to do this. Besides, if we don’t, she threatened to conduct the séance with her bingo friends. Apparently, they’re all very excited at the possibility.”

Okay, I have to admit that nearly made me chuckle. I repressed the urge, because a group of old ladies conducting a séance was not a good plan. But neither was this. “Verda, I’m putting my foot down. My foot is down!” I stamped it for good measure. “I absolutely don’t think this is the way to go.”

“Come on, Chloe—remember what we talked about the other day?” Alice pleaded. “This will make me feel better.”

I knew she meant about Verda and the magic, but seeing as her crafty grandmother already
had
it, the worry in Alice’s voice didn’t sway me. Even so, I hadn’t the slightest clue how to argue or convince her that this wouldn’t change anything. I exhaled a breath, totally at a loss.

Verda, sensing my weakness, moved in for the kill. “This girl needs your help! You were almost in tears on the phone this morning, and that’s when I knew we had to do this,
Chloe.” She winked. “I owe you. Let me help you, that girl and her father.”

Curiosity glimmered in Alice’s eyes. “What do you owe Chloe for, Grandma?”

I pressed my lips together and looked to Verda for her response. Part of me wanted her to just come clean; the other part readied my legs to run in case she did.

“For her dedication to this family,” Verda replied without missing a beat. “For all the support she’s given you.”

Alice nodded, accepting the answer without the slightest hesitation. “Okay, then I’m with Grandma on this one. Let’s do this and get it over with.”

I sighed in exasperation. “I just don’t—”

“If you don’t help Mari, then who will?” Verda’s entire body vibrated with purpose. “I think about this poor girl and everything you told me, and I want to help her as much as you do. What if she were one of us? Would you hesitate then?”

No, and how fair was that? Everything in me wanted to fix things for Mari, not to mention for Ben. But there had to be a better—and less scary—way. “Do you even know how to conduct a séance? I’ve only ever sat in on one, and that was a long time ago.”

“I did my research. On the World Wide Web!” Verda reached into her handbag and pulled out several folded papers. “It’s all right here. And it seems really easy. With our history of magic, I’m sure we’ll be able to pull it off.”

Biting my lip, I thought about all the reasons I should say no. There were plenty. I opened my mouth, all set to quash this plan once and for all, when Mari’s voice and tears and desperation flooded back. I sighed again, giving up. “Fine. I’ll give this a chance, but we have to be careful.” I glanced at Verda and nodded. “Go ahead and explain what we have to do.”

Excitement filled her expression, and she unfolded her
séance papers. “We all have to agree on the purpose of our gathering. That would be to connect with Sara and to find out what’s holding Mari to this world.” Verda searched each of our faces. “It says this is really important, and that if even one of us has another purpose in mind, it can divide the…uh…psychic energy and ruin our chances.”

“What else?” My stomach cramped. “I don’t want to pull in some other spirit.”

“That’s why we have one solitary goal. And there can be no fear or cynicism inside any of us. And…oh! Hm, that’s not good.” Verda tightened her hold on the papers and she squinted, as if making sure she’d read correctly. “Is there any way we can get inside Ben’s house and do this there? It says that we’ll have better luck if we gather somewhere symbolic to the person we’re trying to reach.”

“Uh-uh. No way. Not happening.” I shook my head, already imagining that conversation. “I barely got him to agree to read a book about the afterlife, so convincing him to conduct a séance in his house is a big no.”

Verda sighed. “Well, we’ll have to make do with this space then. Hopefully, the fact that Mari’s appeared here before will be enough.”

“It will have to be. Ben isn’t ready to host a gathering meant to contact his deceased wife.” I shuddered at the thought. “Let’s move on. Is there anything else we need to know?”

“Nope, that’s it. We just need to light some candles, play some meditative music, sit in a circle and hold hands and concentrate on connecting with Sara. This will be easy.” Verda tucked the papers away. “You should have everything we need right here in the shop, Chloe. Let’s get set up.”

Uneasiness swept through me, but I nodded again. “I’ll grab the candles and the music. You guys pull that”—I gestured to the small round table in the back of the room—“out more, so we can get chairs all the way around it. And…um…then we’ll get started.”

Ten minutes later, everything was ready to go. The four of us sat in an evenly spaced circle around the table. Soft music played, and I’d lit several candles. Weirdly, each of us had started speaking in whispers. “Now what?” I asked.

“I did the research, so I’ll act as the medium.” Verda sat up straighter. “We need to hold hands and focus on the purpose. You remember what that is, right?”

We all whispered a collective “Yes.”

I reached one hand out to Verda and the other to Alice, and Elizabeth did the same. Once we were all holding hands, Grandma Verda closed her eyes. “We’re gathered in this circle to reach out with love and positive energy for Sara…” She half-opened her eyes and frowned at me. “What’s her last name?”

“Malone.”

“We’re trying to contact Sara Malone, who died in a car accident with her daughter, Marissa Malone. Sara…your daughter needs help and we don’t know how to help her. We beseech your assistance, your knowledge and your love for Mari so we can clear her way to join you,” Verda said softly, her tone mesmerizing. I was impressed. She certainly seemed to know what she was doing.

“Okay, girls. Close your eyes and concentrate on Sara. Make sure you only feel love and positive energy, and try to pull her to this circle.”

I brought Sara’s face to mind, focusing on how she looked in the photo that Ben had shared with me. Then I thought about Mari and allowed myself to feel every emotion I’d experienced whenever I was with her. Finally, I pulled in that scarcely seen image that must have been the accident itself.

I shivered as the air cooled upon my skin, raising goose bumps along with each and every one of my hairs. I pushed myself harder, trying to use
my
energy—
my
magic—to reach out, to somehow find Sara and bring her to us. This time, the power came slowly, much more like a sluggish drip from
a broken faucet than turning on like with the flipping of a switch, but as it grew in strength, my body warmed and tiny tingles rushed through me.

Inhaling deeply, I visualized my energy combining with those of Alice, Elizabeth and Verda, enhancing what I could do alone, hopefully working as a magnet and drawing Sara in. Alice’s hand trembled in mine, and Verda clamped down tighter. A wave of pulsating, electrifying energy whipped through me, through Alice and I assumed through Elizabeth, and finally, back to me through Verda. Then, as if I were teleported to some unknown place, everything and everybody disappeared.

A faint tugging sensation pulled at the center of my being, as if something or someone was trying to gain entrance. Fear skittered over me, through me, but I allowed myself to open up, to accept the possibility that Sara was here and that she was trying to reach me. A flickering series of images began to play in my mind, reeling by so fast that I couldn’t tell what was happening or what I was supposed to be seeing. Not sure if Sara controlled the images or if they were a result of my magic, I first willed them to slow down and then pushed out a thought.

Slow down, Sara. I can’t make anything out
.

Almost instantaneously, the flickering paused before continuing onward at a much more watchable pace. I focused in and gasped, my muscles tightening with the realization of what I saw. Playing before me were various images of Sara and Ben. Sometimes they were embracing, sometimes they looked to be arguing, sometimes I saw pure love and adoration in Sara’s eyes, and in other instances, I saw…well, not much of anything. In some I saw anger and unhappiness.

This continued on for a while, I don’t know how long, and I tried to understand why this message was important, tried to comprehend what information I was supposed to
grasp. I watched Sara and Ben pass college age and become adults, and still the emotions changed between them in nearly every flash, in nearly every image. They
had
loved each other; I could see that. What I didn’t know, what I couldn’t figure out, is why Sara’s love seemed to switch on and off through the years.

Well, Ben’s too. Though through all of the images, I never saw the love in his eyes that I’d seen in my vision of our wedding day. But there were moments, scattered here and there, that I witnessed something very close. As if he wanted to be head over heels but wasn’t quite there, or maybe she kept pushing him back. Damn it! I couldn’t tell. The desire to learn fueled my power another degree, and then suddenly, the flickering pictures of Ben and Sara vanished.

The energy in the room and in me swirled on. In another minute, something new appeared behind my closed eyelids. Sara stood in her kitchen—Ben’s kitchen—with a phone to her ear. Tears were in her eyes, her cheeks were flushed bright red and her arms trembled. Then, as if a camera were on her, as if it panned back, I saw the entirety of the room and the nearby hallway. Standing there was Mari. Her body was pressed against the wall, as if she didn’t want her mother to see.

I heard a crackle, a buzz, and then a woman’s voice erupted in my head.
Sara’s
voice. But like a weak radio station, her words faded in and out, sometimes scratchy and sometimes clear. “I love you! I’ve always…loved…should have waited…married then,” she said. “You know she could be yours! Don’t you care? Ben knows now. I told him…Rissa. Tired…waiting.”

Mari barreled into the kitchen. I thought she was going to confront her mother, but she didn’t. Instead, she grabbed the car keys from the table and ran out. Sara hung up the phone and followed. The scene blacked out, but then another
image appeared, this one showing them in the car. Except now I couldn’t hear anything.

My heart rate picked up and I wanted to shout, to tell them to stop the car and get out. But of course I couldn’t. It wouldn’t have made a difference, anyway. Sara still cried, but now Marissa did too. It was obvious she wasn’t paying any attention to the road, but rather to the emotional discussion with her mother. Again, I wanted to scream at them. Why couldn’t I stop this? What good did it do for me to see?

Mari turned the wheel with way too much force, and then she tried to correct her mistake. Headlights blared into the car. She opened her mouth in a silent scream. Everything went black. Before I could react, before I could even blink, Sara’s voice whispered in my mind.

Tell Ben I’m sorry. Tell him she’s always been his.

And then:
Tell Rissa I’m waiting for her, whenever she’s ready.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered, still caught in everything I’d seen, everything I’d heard. My body shook and my throat ached. The phone call whipped into my mind, the barely heard words, and they seemed to back up what Ben had told me. That Sara had loved another. My brain zeroed in to that part of Sara’s statement, and shock coursed through me. Was there a chance that Marissa wasn’t Ben’s biological daughter? Is that what Mari had heard?

My heart went out to her, to that moment of stark realization when every truth she’d known was tossed back in her face. If I was right, then her anger at her mother made perfect sense. But then I thought of the first set of images, with Sara and Ben, and the love that was sometimes there and sometimes not. What did that mean?

Opening my eyes, I couldn’t talk immediately. I continued to try to make sense of what Sara had shown me, but there was far too much that I didn’t—couldn’t—comprehend.

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