On the Verge (A Charmed Life Book 1) (15 page)

BOOK: On the Verge (A Charmed Life Book 1)
3.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“No!” cried Tracy, “I don't want to fight him!  I just wanted to give you time!  I don't even have to fight him, you're my mentor, you can step in for me!  He had a plan and you didn't, and now you have time to make one!”

Jacob stopped and blinked in surprise at this.  “Oh,” he said.  His brows furrowed and he stared out the window for a bit as Tracy maneuvered around cars, heading down the freeway.  They rode in silence for several long minutes, neither of them saying anything.

“That was some quick thinking,” Jacob said at last.  “I'm a little worried about it, but I think we can manage.  He does have to make it a fair fight, so I can prepare for that … the main question is just what he'll use.  He could use just about anything he wants, except for mind, but he likes to show off his rare tokens, so I think we can rely on him not using any of the basics.”

They continued to talk about the possibilities – or rather, Jacob mused about the possibilities while Tracy made small encouraging noises.  She wanted to listen and learn, but everything had finally overwhelmed her, and she was starting to have trouble taking anything more in.  She couldn't remember from one sentence to the next what he was saying, and instead mostly concentrated on simply getting home safely.

“Hey, Jacob … or do you prefer Jake?” she cut in on him, as they were approaching her exit.

Jacob let out a quiet “hrm?” as his focus was disrupted.  “Jacob, definitely.”

Tracy nodded.  “OK, Jacob - do you need me to drop you off wherever your bike is? Or do you … with your shadows … ”

“Shadowstep, is what we usually call it.  Or at least what I call it.  And that'll be fine; my bike's halfway across town.  It wouldn't make sense to make you go drive all the way over there when I could shadowstep there in five minutes.”

Tracy nodded as she pulled off the freeway and maneuvered through the lamplit streets towards her apartment.  Almost home.  “So, anyway, I better meet up with you tomorrow afternoon so you can start teaching me how to use these charms, hrm?”

Jacob shrugged.  “I was actually thinking morning - if you end up getting pulled into that challenge after all, you need to be ready to go.  You've been lucky so far, but luck isn't enough.”

Tracy shook her head.  “Afternoon will be soon enough.  I'm busy tomorrow morning.”

Jacob sighed and nodded.  “All right,” he acceded.  “But we also have to meet over the week.”

“And we have to call Lord whatshisname and arrange a time, place, and rules of engagement,” Tracy reminded him.

Jacob just nodded quietly.

There were a couple more minutes of quiet, both of them now lost in their own thoughts, until they got back to Tracy's apartment complex.  Slipping around back to the alley, she triggered the door to the underground parking garage with her remote and drove down into it.  “Plenty of shadows for you down here,” she said, subdued.  Jacob nodded and grunted agreement as she pulled into her parking spot.

They sat awkwardly for a moment or two.  Tracy didn't know what Jacob was thinking, but she knew that she was trying to quickly process everything that had happened.  It had only been a few hours since she'd seen Jacob in front of the Aikido studio.  Heck, it was less than twenty-four hours since those punk kids had attacked her and she'd received the charm bracelet.  In that time, she'd gotten into three or four different fights, met a half dozen new bizarre but everyday people, had run into someone of nigh-unstoppable power, turned into stone, wrapped mist around her hands, and generally had her life turned upside down.  No wonder she was edgy.  She'd attacked Jacob at least once, and they'd probably saved each other's lives, too.  What do you say after that?

“Are we allowed to tell anyone?” she finally asked.

Jacob shook his head.  “Not while you're in your protected time frame,” he replied.  “After that, you can, as long as it's a limited number of people you can trust, and they keep it private.  NO taking it public.  Any of the folks you tell leak this to someone else, there's serious repercussions in it for you, and their brains get tampered with.”

Tracy nodded.  That hadn't been what she'd wanted to hear, but it was something she needed to know.  She wanted to tell Sing.  She wanted to get his input on it, to find out what he thought about everything.  Or maybe to just have him hold her gently to him and just relax.  She supposed that last bit she could have him do.

“Jacob … thanks.” She sighed.  “It's been one heck of a crazy day, but thank you for helping me through it.  I'm sorry about … ”  Her hands gestured in a helpless circular gesture, “stuff.” She couldn't really elaborate.  It was too hard finding the right words through the gathering haze in her mind.

“No problem,” said Jacob, offhandedly.  “Trust me, I know what you're going through.  You're probably handling it a little better than I did.” He let out a short bark of laughter.  “See you tomorrow.”

Tracy nodded and unlocked the truck door, stepping out.  Looking over to the passenger seat, she blinked and was startled to see that Jacob had already left, not even bothering to get out of the truck before shadowstepping.  “Nice Batman exit,” she murmured to herself, amused.

She took a deep breath and let it out in a long exhalation, closing her eyes and leaning back into the driver's seat as the truck let out a soft repetitive ticking noise, the engine cooling off under the hood.  Alone again.  After a short time, a faint calmness reasserted itself over the troubled and stressed depths.  It wasn't as calm as she would like, but it would have to do.  She locked up her truck and proceeded up to her apartment.  The calmness settled more truly for her - leaving Jacob behind, returning to being alone in her apartment, even just the simple familiar process of rummaging for her keys and avoiding that sharp edge on the hand railing as she reached the first floor landing - it all made her life seem normal again.  Like the last day had just been a dream.

Except that the charm bracelet and its two charms dangled off her wrist.

She opened the front door and leaned down to scoop up the gray cat as it came scampering up to rub at her ankle.  She cradled Nameless and smiled, petting at his ears.  His head wriggled out from under her fingers and he made a plaintive, hungry little 'mew!' as he looked up at her face.

Tracy laughed.  “Oh, all right,” she said, “I'll get you something to eat.”

It was relaxing to open up the can of cat food and dump it out on the plate, then set it on the floor and watch Nameless eat it with his quiet, controlled dignity.  Then she remembered Sing, and that they were going out for dinner tonight.

“Oh no!” she gasped, hurrying to the bedroom as she realized she probably didn't have much time to get ready.  “What am I going to wear?”  She stopped and stared at herself in the mirror.  “What did you just say?!” she demanded of herself.  “What are you going to wear?  Can you sound more like a stereotype?” The mirror didn't answer, but just stared back in frustration.  “Well,” she admitted reluctantly, “I guess it is a valid question … just try to phrase it differently next time.”

She stood in front of the mirror with closed eyes, readying herself.  She took a deep breath, let it out, then opened her eyes.  Her first thought was that if only she hadn't been wearing this already, it's what she'd want to wear - but she couldn't wear the same thing he'd seen her in earlier!  Going to her closet, she threw it open to rummage through the mass of clothing, costumes, and jewelry supplies within.

Every month she had promised herself that she'd clean out this closet and tidy it up, make it easier for her to find what she needed, but every month that promise went unkept.  Well, no more.  She didn't have time right now, and it sounded like she wouldn't have time tomorrow, but next weekend, after the match, she was going to clean it out!

But for now, she needed something new to wear.

She pulled out a long black skirt and a red blouse that shimmered nicely in the light, made of some mystery blend of various unnatural fibers that made such a pleasant appearance.  She held it up before her, looking in the mirror, and shook her head.  No, that was too fancy.  She shoved it back into the mass of clothes and made another selection, this one a deeper russet, a heavier fabric covered with little decorative designs.  It was too busy.  One after another, she pulled out tops or skirts and tried to find one she liked, and ultimately decided on a different long black skirt with lots of folds and fabric, and a long-sleeved white blouse where the sleeves puffed pleasantly.  She finished it with a loose, flowing vest of a light fabric, marked with blue, faintly shimmering patterns of flowing water and rushing clouds.  She looked at it critically in the mirror - the blue was almost too bright, but she judged it just muted and calm enough that she could pull it off, as long as she had a touch of bright color at her neck and wrist.  Then she tossed the clothes onto the bed and went to shower, nervous about the time.

When she was done with the shower, a towel wrapped around her hair and her bathrobe pulled close around her, she came back into her bedroom to find the clothes moving on the bed.  “Nameless!” she cried in frustration, and his face peeked out from underneath the blouse, curiosity bright in his eyes.

“Mew?” he asked, innocently.

She snatched up the clothes and cat hair covering them.  Sighing, she pulled open a drawer and pulled out the lint roller, settling down to de-cathair everything.  Nameless leaped into her lap and nosed at the hand with the roller, as if saying, “Why are you petting those clothes when you could be petting me?”

Tracy giggled helplessly and gave a light touch to his ears and cheeks, and rubbed a finger under his chin until he rolled onto his back and allowed her to tease over his tummy, the small gray cat rumbling with a happy purr.  Then she picked him up and walked him out to the main room.  “Sorry, Nameless,” she said lightly, “But you're going to have to stay out here while I get ready.”

Retreating to her room and closing the door behind her, Tracy regarded her clothes.  She did love cats, but she wondered if she could deal with the cat hair.  It hadn't really been a problem just yet - in fact, this was the first time she'd even noticed it at all - but she didn't like the thought of having her entire apartment coated in the stuff, as she'd seen and smelled in other homes that had cats.

By the time she was done, she found that the simple, repetitive task had actually helped to calm her spirits a great deal.  She hummed happily as she got dressed and picked out a nice silver necklace with a pattern of red crystal beads and a matching bracelet to go with the outfit.  The bracelet went on one wrist, and she considered the charm bracelet at the other, with its two charms hanging from it.  She wanted to think about it, about what it meant, but her brain just stayed a blank, so she stood up and walked out into the main room.

She glanced at the clock – not long until Sing would be here!  She considered turning on the TV, watching something mindless for the short time until he showed, but the noise of the television annoyed her before even half a minute was up, and she turned it off again.  Wandering the house aimlessly, she found herself in the kitchen, staring at the pot in the sink, in which the scorched remnants of the soup was still solidly cemented to the side.

She looked at her charm bracelet again, then stepped up to the sink and held her hand over the water.  The weather charm flashed and vanished from the charm bracelet as she focused her will, and her next breath wisped out from between her lips, floating on the air before her.  The water within the pot stirred as a faint eddy went through it.

It was the first time Tracy had used her magic without it being a desperate situation, and she couldn't ignore this.  She sucked in a breath, tilted her head back, pursed her lips, and blew.  Once more, her breath misted as if she were out in the freezing cold.  A delighted giggle bubbled up in her chest, and all her childhood daydreams came rushing to the fore.

She pursed her lips and blew again, harder this time, and with purpose in mind.  Mist billowed from her pursed lips, washed over her cabinets, and she watched as an icy frost spread across them, lovely little crystalline patterns multiplying and growing across the white wood.  Both her hands came up quickly to cover her mouth as she let out a burst of joyful laughter.  Oh, dear, she could ruin the wood that way.  But it was so hard to care!

She looked down at the filthy water in the pot and let out another long exhalation of chilly mist.  The water across the surface crackled and hardened – starting first at the edges, then creeping towards the middle, it iced over in a matter of seconds.  Hardly believing it, she reached down to poke at the ice, which broke under the pressure.  Very thin, but she'd hardly been trying.

A whole mass of things she wanted to try came rushing through her mind, but they all carried with them some risk – being seen, freezing her pipes and causing them to burst, destroying her kitchen by freezing it over, giving all the food in her fridge freezer burn … soon, she promised herself.  She'd play with this soon, and safely.  At the arena.  That was the place for it, right?  Still, her delighted giggle sounded as she bit at her lower lip, barely able to restrain herself.

Tracy grinned and concentrated again, stirring her hand through the air above the pot, and the water swirled, matching the speed of her hand, turning into a tiny whirlpool inside the pot.  The surface ice crackled and broke into small, disintegrating shards.  She shifted her mind away from merely moving the water to applying a little focused attention, and the water darkened as it wore away at the blackened and charred mess within, a little at a time.  She lifted her hand and the water followed it, pulling away from the sides of the pot and hovering in mid-air. 

Other books

Winter of artifice; three novelettes by Nin, Anaïs, 1903-1977
Rotten Apples by Natasha Cooper
Husband for Hire by Susan Wiggs
Night Blooming by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
The Escort by Ramona Gray
Murder Shoots the Bull by Anne George
Secrets of the Time Society by Alexandra Monir
Deliverance by James Dickey