Double-Sided Witch (Covencraft Book 3) (18 page)

Jade seemed so lost and sad for a moment, staring off into space while they’d been talking about the box he’d been holding (while not really talking about the box at all). He’d not even felt her power surge up before it suddenly slapped out, cracking the glass of the TV stand. That had been surprising, as had been the scent of grapefruit, which he’d never associated with her before. Jade was usually quick with her magic, but Paris thought he should have at least had some warning before her power sparked out. It had felt different as well. It had been more like her magic from when she first came to the Coven. Unfocused, disoriented and disorganized. While Jade still had a lot to learn, she had made significant progress and her power felt cleaner and neater now. The sharp crack that had slipped out had been harsh and tangled.

“How is your nose? It hasn’t bled again, has it?” he asked.

Jade shook her head, not taking her eyes off the road. “No. I told you, sometimes I get those things. They’re usually one-offs. Hey, can you check your phone and see if Callie said anything about Bruce?”

He did, passing along the message that Callie had found Bruce stretched out in front of an empty fireplace, napping. Feeling sorry for him, Callie decided to stay for a bit and conjure him a fire.

“She hopes you don’t mind,” Paris read from his phone, “but she’s also eating a bag of chips she found in your cupboard.”

Jade snorted. “She got suckered in by Bruce’s puppy eyes.” Jade frowned. “Lizard eyes, I guess. She can eat all the chips she wants.”

Hearing her familiar was safe, Jade’s shoulders relaxed, tension bleeding out. He could admit that he was relieved as well. Though he hadn’t said it aloud, Paris had been concerned Jade’s nosebleed meant they would find Bruce sick or hurt or… something. He wasn’t sure what. It all made Paris wonder if he should ask Jade not to use any more magic until they sorted this all out. What ever ‘it’ was.

He was hesitant to bring anything sensitive up, however, while she was driving. The magical spurt that had caused the glass to crack back at her apartment had been out of control and he didn’t like to think of what could happen if something similar should occur while they were on the road. Keeping to himself, they passed the rest of the trip in casual companionship with long bouts of comfortable silence. By the time they pulled into the driveway in front of Jade’s small cottage, Paris had managed to get a few emails done on his smartphone.

Jade seemed anxious to be back; Paris wasn’t sure why. Her mood lightened, though, when Paris spied a lumbering Bruce heaving his way out of a window on the main floor. Paris couldn’t understand how the creature managed to hoist himself up and then out. He thought he sensed magic around the window and turned to ask Jade about it, but stayed silent when he saw the way her face lit up at seeing Bruce. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her smile so open and wide. It made her appear years younger than she was. Bruce hobbled over and scratched at the car door and Jade quickly opened it up, not appearing to care about the paint job. Paris was certain if he looked, he’d find lovely gouge marks claw-distance apart, running down the entire door.

“Hey! There you are! Were you a good lizard while I was gone?” Jade’s voice was higher - the pitch the people tend to use with pets. Bruce’s butt did a sort of shimmy-wiggle that Paris assumed was his way of answering in the affirmative.

“And did Callie feed you some chips? I bet she did. I bet you totally conned her with your sad eyes.”

Callie had indeed texted that as she left Jade’s cottage, about an hour before, Bruce had been happily munching on some chips, still stretched out in front of the fireplace.

Crouched on the ground next to him, Jade went over his Elizabethan lizard collar and neck with careful fingers. Paris noticed when Jade found Bruce’s scaly spot. Her smile faded and her eyes went tight at the edges. The spot looked as though it had doubled in size. From the look on her face, Jade had realized it too.

“I brought you pillows,” she said conversationally, straightening up and smoothing out her jeans. “Pillows that are officially yours, so you can stop stealing mine.”

“Pfffffft.” Bruce flicked his pink tongue out.

As Paris made his way around to their side of the car, Bruce waddled a few steps closer to him and presented his neck.

“Yes, Bruce. I see it,” Paris said lowly, bending over to deposit a few light pets on his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jade biting her lip.

“Gotta unpack, Bruce,” she said, her voice overly bright and cheerful. Bruce pushed past Jade and hopped into the front seat, grabbing the pillow Paris had used from the passenger side. He reversed out of the car, his butt waving side to side as he did, pillow firmly in his jaws.

Jade handed two boxes to Paris and took one for herself. She seemed to have a good idea of where things were in the car, despite not having been the one to load it up. Her directions were easy for Paris to follow - bring some items upstairs and leave that box close to the kitchen, put that box in the living room. They worked in relative silence, Bruce ever watchful from the fireplace, his chin resting on his new pillow.

Once the last of the boxes were in the cottage, Jade started a pot of coffee in the kitchen, using her older pot − the one she’d brought back with her. Bruce curled up under the kitchen table, his silvery eyes watching Jade as she moved around the kitchen.

“Hello, old friend,” she said dramatically, petting the coffee machine as it spat and gurgled. Paris rolled his eyes, catching sight of the pantry door, slightly ajar.

“Have you received any more visits from the demon?”

Jade pursed her lips. Bruce snorted.

“Jade.”

“It’s not like I’m keeping them a secret. I just didn’t get around to telling you because I know how you are.”

“If you’re not keeping them a secret, why are you so defensive?”

“Because this is how you are.” She gestured at his tense posture and firm gaze, waving her hands at him. “Seth’s just a creeper. A creeping creeper who creeps. He’s not going to hurt me.” She paused, leaning against the counter. “I don’t think.”

Paris took a seat at the kitchen table. “I would appreciate it if you kept me informed of his comings and goings. I don’t fault you for his visits.”

“I know.” Her words said one thing, but her body language said another. Paris watched her for a few minutes and she was well aware of it - avoiding his gaze, picking at her cuticles and then finding an imaginary rough edge on the counter-top and worrying it with her fingernail.

“What happened at the apartment? With the glass?”

Jade shrugged, her shoulders going up and down in a sullen manner. “I don’t know.”

He got the feeling she wasn’t being intentionally dense or surly. She really didn’t know.

“What were you thinking of when it happened?”

The shoulder shrug came slower this time and he realized that he could read that gesture - that was her knowing what she’d been thinking of and not wanting to say. Paris thought of his next question carefully.

“Is that your first nosebleed since Bruce fell ill?”

“Yes,” she answered easily and he took it for the truth.

Paris felt Bruce nudge at his foot under the table and wondered if it was by accident or design.

“And you’ve not had any others due to using too much magic?”

She shook her head. “I’ve been careful. I’m only doing small spells.”

“When you stopped Dex, you bled from the ears.”

Jade leveled him with a look. “You say that like I wasn’t there. I remember what happened, English. Dr. Gellar said I was fine. No permanent damage. It isn't like I did that for shits and giggles. He was trying to whammy the whole Coven.”

“I’m aware,” Paris said, trying to placate her. Silence stretched out between them again as he flipped through what he knew.

“When we didn’t know where you were, I cast a locator spell to find you.”

“I said I was sorry about that. I didn’t know you guys would be worried.”

He held up a hand. “That’s not why I’m bringing it up. What I meant to say was, I used a locator spell to find you, but it didn’t work like it should have.”

She slowly took a mug from the cupboard, giving him a quick glance and when he nodded once, taking one down for him as well. “What happened?” she asked, pulling the coffee pot out and pouring them each a cup.

“I don’t know. It was like the spell only partially worked.” Paris frowned. “Like it only half worked.”

Jade turned to look at him, carafe in one hand almost forgotten. Her mouth moved like she wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure what. “Did it…? How…?” She closed her mouth and swallowed, trying to find her words. “What do you mean half?”

“I used nearly the same spell to find you last night as I did when you first came to the Coven. It involves a fine powder created from some herbs and spices, along with a map, some weights and my own magic. I should have been better at it this time, more precise, since I know you now. I know your magic. But only half of the powder found you on the map.”

“Who did the other half find?”

Her voice was quiet, like she was afraid to ask him the question and his brows knit together at her wording.

“No one,” Paris said. She looked… disappointed. “Jade, who did you think it would find?”

Jade shook her head slightly, turning back to the counter. She poured two cups of coffee and pushed the carafe back with a slosh. She set his down on the table, pushing the small sugar dish over, but she didn’t join him. Instead, after she’d fixed her coffee as she liked, she stayed standing, leaning up against the counter. The sound of the spoon clinking against the ceramic as he stirred sugar into his coffee was loud in the small kitchen. Under the table, Bruce pressed against Paris’ leg again. He wasn’t sure if that meant ‘silly human, you should stop while you’re still ahead’ or ‘keep going, you’re getting there.’

“Jade, who is Lily?”

Jade watched the interior of her cup as though there were tea leaves inside, divining her future and past. Bruce got up from under the table and waddled over to her, falling over on his side and pressing his long, spiny back against her foot. She looked down at him and smiled before setting her mug on the counter and crouching down. She sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor, her hand swiping along Bruce’s serpentine belly.

She took a long time forming her words and though he was generally a patient man, Paris found himself wanting to ask her more questions, prod her into an answer. But he also got the feeling that she was standing on a knife’s edge and if he disturbed her at all in this moment, she would topple off, falling on the side of silence.

“My dad was a mean drunk and he drank a lot. He probably ended up with cirrhosis of the liver. I’m not sure. I haven’t spoken to him or my mom since I left home. They could both be dead. Or they could both be as we left them; dad drunk, looking for something to hit and mom just… indifferent.”

The small word ‘we’ caught his attention and he kept himself still so as not to distract her. Jade didn’t look up as she spoke. She kept her head titled down, focused on Bruce. Bruce, however, had turned his head so that his eyes were solely looking at Paris. It was a very potent sensation. Paris kept his own gaze locked on Bruce, afraid that if he looked away, or stared directly at her, Jade would stop talking.

“I don’t know which was worse, to be honest. I mean, my dad would hit, but my mom was checked out. She kept the house running, food on the table and liquor in the cupboards, but it was like she wasn’t really there. Or like we weren’t really there. I don’t know if you’ve ever been ignored or not noticed.” Jade didn’t wait for him to answer - she wasn’t really asking him a question so much as making a statement. “It really sucks.”

Not only was Paris holding Bruce’s gaze, he felt like he couldn’t move. As though she had somehow spelled him into being still. In a way, she had.

“People say that kids act out sometimes because some attention, even bad attention, is better than no attention.” She shrugged, one shoulder going up and down. “But what if we’d acted out and then she still didn’t notice us? Maybe that would feel worse. So we were a good kid. We were a really good kid.”

Paris noticed the subtle shift from the first person to the third and her mixing the two and his heart double-thumped in his chest. She must be talking about Lily. All this must be about Lily.

“With Dad drunk most of the time and looking for a fight and Mom there but… not…we were all we had. I had her and she had me and it was enough. We made it enough.”

Bruce smacked his lips a little, like he was swallowing or working something in his mouth. It was an almost-canine gesture - one Paris had seen dogs do when they lie down to sleep. He still held Paris’ gaze, his serpentine, reflective eyes easily resting on Paris and not looking away.

Paris had asked once if Lily was Jade’s sister and Jade had said she wasn’t. He recalled her words when he asked.

“You didn’t say you had a sister.”

“I don’t.”

She hadn’t answered who Lily had been, only that she wasn’t a sister. Now, with the way she spoke, he was more confused. Jade talked as though Lily had been there, together with Jade, as they grew up. If not a sister, then who? Or what?

“We used to sleep in the closet a lot,” Jade continued, her voice low and almost dreamy. “Our dad wasn’t a smart drunk. He’d come looking for us and if we weren’t in bed…” she shrugged again. “I don’t know why he never figured it out. It’s not like you can go very far when you’re young. But he didn’t.” Bruce’s eyes were drowsy, starting to flicker closed as Jade continued to sweep her hand back and forth over his belly. But he kept his gaze focused on Paris, even as his eyes drifted shut.