That Touch of Magic (11 page)

Tobias stood there for a moment, his eyes going from Leo to me to Desmond, then back to me.

“Yeah, I’m going with her,” he said, then disappeared after her, leaving the three of us alone together in awkwardness.

“So, wow, you’re really a doctor, huh?” I said to break the silence, turning to Desmond.

“Neurologist, by trade. I worked mostly in research, but I did a full residency in a real hospital, and I assure you, your mother is going to be fine.”

“Oh, I don’t care about that,” I said, waving a dismissive hand. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. I would think you could do better as a doctor than you are as a…” I trailed off, glancing at Leo, who was watching me carefully.

“I could do better as a doctor, perhaps,” Desmond said, “but I couldn’t do more.”

Cryptic,
I thought, but then just said, “Thank you.”

Desmond smiled at me. “Of course.”

“Well,” I said, “if you’re staying to keep an eye on her, I guess I’d better stay here tonight, too.”

There was another long, awkward silence, and then Leo said, “It looks like you guys have everything under control here. I’m gonna…” He motioned toward the door, then, as if on an afterthought, reached his hand out to Desmond. “I’m sorry. We haven’t been introduced. I’m Leo North.”

Desmond’s eyebrows rose a bit, and he glanced at me before accepting Leo’s handshake.

“Desmond Lamb.”

“Desmond,” Leo said, taking Des’s hand firmly and meeting his eyes with a respectful if sad smile, like a man who’d just lost a game, fair and square, and had no one to blame but himself. Then he released Desmond’s hand, turned to me, and said, “Good-bye, Stacy.”

I hesitated a moment. My mind was in a whirl, and I knew I should just let him leave and be grateful he was gone, but instead I said, “I’ll walk you out.”

I touched Desmond’s arm to tell him to wait, and he sat down on the couch. I walked with Leo through the foyer in silence, and shut the door behind us when we stepped out onto Liv’s porch. We both froze there, him not moving down the steps, me not going back inside, but neither of us really doing anything else.

“Do you … need me to explain … all that back there?” I said in a broken, uncertain tempo.

“Yes,” he said. “But it seems like an involved thing, and … my plane…” He seemed to be having trouble getting words out, too.

“Right. Your plane.”

He moved toward the stairs, and I followed him.

“Where are you going?” I asked, not so much wanting an answer as wanting to keep him there, just for a little while longer. The Anwei Xing had worn off entirely, and I was back to the uncomfortable push–pull of both loving him and never wanting to see him again.

He stopped on the top step and turned to face me. “Home.”

“And where is that? I knew you were somewhere in South Dakota, but I didn’t know where.”

“Aberdeen.”

“Do you like it there?”

He met my eyes. “Does it matter?”

We went quiet for a little while, and then I said, “We’re never going to see each other again, are we?”

He lowered his head, and his voice was thick. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” I asked. “It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

We stared at each other in silence for a long time, and then Leo looked away.

“I have to go,” he said. “Nick’s truck is at the reception. I have to get it. I’m driving them in to the airport. Our planes leave at about the same time.”

I looked at him in the moonlight, and felt like I was losing a part of myself. Again. The blessed shelter of the Anwei Xing was gone, and here I was, stuck with Leo on the last chair when the music stopped, feeling exactly what I hadn’t wanted to feel.

Stay,
I thought.

“Fly safe,” I said.

He reached out tentatively, his hand seeming to move almost against his will. I closed my eyes as his fingers glided into the hair at the back of my head, and was hit with a rush of disappointment when his kiss landed on my forehead instead of my lips.

“Be happy,” he whispered, and by the time I opened my eyes again, he was turning the corner at the end of the street, heading back to the town square and my brother and wherever the rest of his life would be.

Good-bye, Leo.

I stood there, staring into the night, both relieved and sunken with a sadness I was pretty sure would be with me every day for the rest of my life. Maybe I hadn’t done the right thing by sending him away, but I’d done the
only
thing; I was sure of that. I was even uglier and angrier now than I’d been back then, and it was only a matter of time before he saw that and realized I wasn’t worth it. Leo leaving now was survivable; if we’d spent any more time together, if I’d indulged in even the tiniest bit of hope for us, I was pretty sure
survivable
would no longer be on the table.

Then I went back inside, took Desmond by the hand without a word, and led him upstairs to Liv’s guest bedroom.

Chapter 7

“Psst! Psst! Stacy!”

I started awake as my mother jostled my shoulder. She was still wearing her black dress from last night, the one Desmond had put her to bed in, and somehow, it didn’t have a single wrinkle. Her hair was pulled back tight in a bun, and her makeup was perfect.

The woman was a freak.

It took me a moment to realize I was still naked—all the good parts covered by the sheet, thank God—and then it took me another moment to process that Desmond was gone. I pulled the covers up to my neck and sat up.

“What do you want?” My pink satin polka-dotted maid of honor dress was lying in a lump on the floor. My eyes darted around instinctively for Desmond’s clothes; there was no sign of him at all. I relaxed. I didn’t care much what my mother thought of me, but old habits of hiding everything I did of which she might disapprove—which was pretty much everything—were hardwired into my DNA.

“I need more of that stuff,” she said, kneeling by the bed, desperation in her eyes. “I need another dose. Now. Give it.”

Great. I turned my mother into a magic junkie.
“Is Liv awake?”

“Yes, everyone’s up, except for you. It’s past nine o’clock.”

“For fuck’s sake!” I fell back on the bed. “I’m self-employed, Widow. I don’t get up before noon unless there’s a national emergency or free pancakes.”

“Where’s your purse? Is it in your purse?” She scrambled across the room to the chair where my singed clutch had landed. She picked it up, taking a moment to visibly disapprove of the charred finger marks on the side. She rolled her eyes, flipped it open, and dumped the contents onto the dresser, giving no apparent heed to the
clunk
my very expensive phone made as she did. I took that time to grab my dress and slide it back on. By the time she turned around, eyes wide, I was decent again. I couldn’t find my underwear, but I’d deal with that later.

“Get your bony mitts off my stuff.” I went to the dresser, picked up my phone, which was still working no thanks to my mother, and swiped it on. No messages from Deidre Troudt, which I took as a good sign. I would drop by and see her later, try to sort this stuff out, but first, I was going to need coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.

“Where’s the purple vial?” the Widow said from behind me.

I stuffed my things back in the purse and turned to look at her. “I threw it out.”

Her eyes lit, and her fingers went to her throat in horror. “You
what
?”

“It doesn’t matter. It was empty. I had one dose and I gave it to you.”

“Well, go home and make me more,” she demanded.

“My god,” I said. “It’s like it would literally kill you to say
please.
” I glanced down to see if my underwear was on the floor, and took its disappearance as some kind of judgment on my sleeping with Desmond last night.

She rolled her eyes and huffed. “Fine.
Please.
”

“No.” I flipped the sheets back and muttered to myself. “Huh. Oh, well.”

The Widow crossed her arms over her chest and tried to look imposing. “Stacy Imogen Easter.”

“What?” I rubbed my eyes.

She was staring daggers at me. “You will make me some more of that potion. Now.
Please.
”

I laughed, amused by her interpretation of manners. That always killed me. “Oh, right. No.”

“
Excuse
me?” Her eyes narrowed in a way that would have frightened me to death when I was a kid. Every now and again, when she really wanted me to do something for her, she’d pull out that look hoping it would work again. It didn’t. I stepped past her and slipped my feet into my shoes.

“Look, Widow, I’m not giving you anything, ever again. Get over it.”

“But I need it! I was
beautiful
last night. Everyone said so. I
glowed.
”

“I know,” I said, and the memory of last night’s series of weirdnesses—
glowing, bluebirds, fire
—made my shoulders tense.

She tapped her fingers impatiently on the dresser. “I need more of that stuff. How fast can you make it for me?”

“Second verse, same as the first. I’m not making you anything. I’ve got bigger fish to fry today, Widow.”

I started toward the door, but her bony fingers grabbed my arm. She wasn’t strong enough to hold me against my will, but the shock of her cold touch stopped me anyway.

“Get your hands off me before you lose them,” I said darkly, meaning it. “No one touches me without an invitation, even you.”

She let me go, but closed the space between us. “What do you want? Money? I will give you money. But making your mother beg like this is a shameful, ugly thing, which makes you an ugly person. I just want you to know that.”

Like you’d ever let me forget.
I shook my head and let out a bitter laugh. “You are the most unfathomable piece of work I’d ever met. And, lady, I used to work in a county library.”

I moved out the door past her, and she was tight on my heels. I made my way downstairs to the kitchen, where Tobias was cooking up pancakes and bacon. Liv and Desmond were laughing at the table, and when I entered, she raised an eyebrow at me. I gave a casual shrug and sat down.

“Good morning,” Liv said, eyes glinting with amusement. “Sleep well?”

“Yes, I did. Thanks.” I served myself a pancake while Desmond attended to my mother.

“It’s good to see you, Lillith. You look well this morning. How are you feeling?”

The Widow smoothed her hand over her hair and giggled like a little girl. “Just wonderful, thank you.”

Desmond smiled, but didn’t try to share an intimate look with me or anything, which was very much to his credit considering how intimate we’d been the night before. Although, now that I thought about it …
intimate
maybe wasn’t the right word for what we’d been. The lights had been off, all relevant parts functioned, and we both made it home and God bless his soul he didn’t try to cuddle afterward, but there was nothing intimate about it. At the moment, he was being great: casual, discreet, polite. Despite that, I found myself wishing Liv had the power to make people disappear. The last thing in the world I wanted to deal with now was what had happened with Desmond last night.

“Although I am a
little
embarrassed about last night,” the Widow continued. “I still honestly don’t know what happened.”

“You’re ninety-five pounds, you eat like a bird, and you drank two glasses of champagne,” I said around a bite of bacon. “You blacked out.”

“Stacy,” she hissed. “I know I raised you better than to talk with your mouth full.”

I took another bite. “Actually, no, you didn’t.”

“Well, this is certainly turning out to be a lively morning,” Desmond said, and Liv laughed.

“This is nothing,” Liv said. “You should have been there when we went shopping for prom dresses. Stacy almost strangled Lillith with a sash.”

The Widow huffed and rolled her eyes. “I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

Liv and I both shook our heads, and Desmond smiled. Then Tobias appeared with a fresh plateful of pancakes for us.

“Tobias, you’re a god among men,” I said and forked one off the plate before it hit the table.

He looked at my mother. “Lillith? Do you want something to eat? Kitchen’s open. I can make whatever you like.”

“Oh, no, thank you,” she said. “I had a half a grapefruit earlier this morning.” And she put her hand on her stomach as if it were going to explode.

I reached for a third pancake. I didn’t really want another one, but I knew it would drive her crazy, and I wasn’t above pettiness at the moment. I was on edge. I needed to jettison my mother, get back to my car parked by the town square, send Desmond back where he came from, and then figure out what the hell was happening.

All while trying not to think about the fact that Leo was gone. Again.

“You know, I have a pair of sweatpants that might not fall off you,” Liv said to me. “You’re welcome to them if you’d like. I’m sorry I forgot to get you anything for pajamas last night. By the time we came out from making the third bedroom, you were already in bed.” She blushed a bit and was putting obvious effort into pretending she didn’t know that I’d slept with Desmond. “Do you need fresh clothes?”

“No, thanks,” I said. “I’ve done the walk of shame in worse than this before.”

There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Desmond said, “It was a lovely wedding,” and we all hopped on how lovely it was, clutching the life raft in a sea full of conversational sharks.

“Okay,” Tobias said, when he put the last pan in the sink. “Lillith, how about I give you a ride home?”

“Well…” Her posture got inexplicably stiffer, and she looked at me. “I was thinking that Stacy might…”

She eyed me; she was nowhere near giving up on this beauty potion thing. I took a deep breath and thought,
It’s not worth the fight. It’s green tea. Just give it to her.

“I’d take the ride from Tobias,” I said, “because the walk from here to your house is gonna be hell on a hot day.”

She gave me a good, solid glare with a clear message—
ugly, Stacy, just ugly
—and then pushed up and slid her bony arm through Tobias’s elbow. He held the swinging kitchen door open for her and gave Liv a playful look before leaving. She watched him as he disappeared, a loving light in her eyes that usually made me feel sorry for her.