That Touch of Magic (26 page)

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Authors: Lucy March

BOOK: That Touch of Magic
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“I am yours,” I said. “Always and forever.”

In what seemed like a split second, I was in darkness, and Leo was calling my name, with some urgency, but from far away. I felt the pull of him as I looked back and forth, unable to find him, unable to tell where I was, and then in a sudden
whoosh
I was back in my body, lying in my bed, with Leo hovering over me, frantic.

“Stacy! Stacy!”

I opened my eyes and took a moment to focus on him. Then I reached up with my arm and tried to touch his face, but my arm felt like rubber.

“I’m here,” I croaked, my throat suddenly dry. “I’m here.”

“What do I do? Do I just mix water in it? You didn’t tell me. I don’t know what to do.”

I blinked a few times, then managed to focus on the purple vial in his hand. I clumsily pushed it away. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not,” he said. “What do I do?”

“Water,” I said. “No vial. Just water.”

He gave me a look, as though he was preparing to argue, and then got up and poured me some water. A moment later, he was at my side, holding me up while I drank it. I finished it and lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as he put the glass away. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and I reached out, able to control my fingers again, and touched his back. It was tense, hard as rock. I sat up and put my arms around his neck.

“I’m okay,” I said. “A little exhausted and dehydrated. It’s been a hell of a day, and I shot fire into a room that was already hot while every bit of moisture I had was directed at a very specific place. Plus, I don’t think I’ve had anything to eat or drink today but coffee.” I thought for a moment. “Yeah. That’s it. Pretty stupid.”

He got up and refilled my glass of water, then held it out to me and watched as I drank it. When I handed it back to him, I smiled.

“I feel a lot better now,” I said, and it was true. “I really think it was just dehydration.”

He nodded, not looking convinced, and took the empty glass. He got up, set it on the counter, and stood there, leaning his hands against the counter as he hung his head.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“No,” he said simply. “But I will be.”

“Come here.” I patted the bed next to me. He came to me, angling my body facing away from him so we could spoon together. He wrapped me tight in his arms and kissed my cheek.

“I will always love you,” he said. “I need you to know that.”

I pulled his hand up to my lips and kissed it.

“I know,” I said, and then snuggled against his strong body, gave in to the warmth of his touch, and fell into a deep, satisfied sleep.

 

Chapter 14

I woke up just before dawn, my eyes flying open suddenly as whatever I’d been dreaming about poked me into consciousness. Leo had rolled over, his back to me, and I carefully crawled out of bed, slid into my jeans, snaked my phone out of my bag, and went outside. I leaned against the hood of the Bug, scanned through my contact list until I found the number I was looking for, and dialed. It rang twice before he answered.

“What is it?” His voice was clear and fully conscious, as if I hadn’t woken him up.

“Hey, Cain. It’s Stacy.”

“Yeah, I know. Liv okay?” The southern sandpaper in his voice was just as I remembered it, and I smiled. I’d kind of missed the guy.

“She’s fine. It’s me who’s in trouble.”

He chuckled. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Because you’ve met me. Hey, what do you know about Anwei Xing?”

There was a long pause. “Tell me you’re not messing with Anwei Xing.”

“What I’ve stepped in is way worse than Anwei Xing,” I said. “Can you tell me what happens if you take it for an extended period of time?”

“Huh.” He was thoughtful for a moment. “Well, depends on how you mix it. Brewed straight up, like a tea, it’ll dull your emotions for a while. There’s some other things you can do—distillation, fermentation, hell I heard of one guy who even shot it up in a needle. Mess with it at that level, and you can target some specific feelings, but you’ve got to be a damn master to pull that off. Not many people can do that.”

“This guy can. He made me a potion that cut off my emotions surrounding one specific person.”

“Huh,” he said.

“Yeah.” I nibbled my lip and tried to figure out how best to phrase the thought that had woken me up. “The thing is, that’s a rare herb. People don’t just have that sitting around in their stores unless they’re actively using it, right?”

“Depends on the person,” Cain said,

“Do you think someone that good might be able to shut off his own conscience? Maybe accidentally? Like, maybe, if he was upset about something else, and it just spread to block out his entire moral center?”

He was quiet for a moment. “That’s a lot of maybes there.”

“Yeah, I know, but … let’s just say I’m grasping at straws. Because I am. Would he have to keep taking it to keep up the effects?”

“Depends. Anwei Xing is pretty powerful. If you brew with the leaves, it’s a temporary effect. Use the root and you can do something lasts longer, but it’s dangerous.”

“But possible?”

“Easter, anything’s possible. Doesn’t mean that’s what’s happening. It’s possible your guy here is just an asshole.”

“Well, he’s that, too, but let’s just play with this idea for a moment. Is there something that might counter the effects of Anwei Xing? Even if it’s permanent?”

“What? You wanna give him his conscience back?”

When I’d woken up, the idea had seemed like genius, but saying it out loud to Cain made it sound kind of stupid and amateurish. Whatever; anything was better than leaving Leo to go off and be Desmond’s lab rat. I was desperate. “Yeah. Might there be a way to do that?”

“Off the top of my head…” He let out a long sigh. “Maybe, if he’s using just the leaves. If he distilled something with the root … damn, Easter. Hell if I know.”

“Well, I’m up to my ass in alligators here. Any chance you could check into it for me?”

He let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. I guess. You need me to get on a plane?”

“Can you?” I asked.

“They’ve got planes here,” he said cryptically.

I sighed. “Get on one, then. At the very least, it’ll be nice for you to come and visit Liv. You’re the closest thing she’s got to family.”

The only reason I knew Cain was still on the phone was because of the background noise. Liv had never known her sister Holly, and Holly had died before she and Cain could get married, but still. Cain was family to Liv, and I knew she missed him. If she wasn’t going to tell him that, I would. Cain wasn’t a guy who expressed his emotions a whole lot, but he’d loved Holly, and he cared about Liv, and it wouldn’t kill him to drop in every now and again.

“You still there?” I asked, even though I knew he was.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m here.”

I hesitated a moment, about to let him go, then I said, “Hey, what would you say if I told you I made a sunflower? Physical magic? All on my own, with no formal training?”

There was no hint of laughter in his voice when he spoke next. “Christ, Easter. What the hell are you getting yourself into out there?”

I cringed. He was right, and I knew he was right but I couldn’t help myself. “I’m getting into some extraordinary shit out here, that’s what I’m getting into.”

“You coulda blown the damn windows out your house!”

“That’s why I did it in my garden shed. Plexiglass stands up a lot better, by the way.”

“You could have killed yourself. Physical magic is nothing to mess with, you hear me?”

“But you’re impressed, right?” I said. “No training. All by myself. I mean, if you were Desmond, you wouldn’t want to mess with me, right?”

He grumbled something that sounded like it could have been agreement and I said, “Get your plane ticket. Liv misses you.”

“Yeah, okay,” he muttered, but there was a pleased note in his tone. I didn’t know much about Cain’s history, but my guess was that when it came to family, Liv was pretty much it for him, too.

I heard a noise and looked to see Leo stepping out the front door, barefoot, one eye open, hair all mussed on one side, arms crossed over his bare chest, boxers hanging off his hip bones. He was an early-morning wreck, and the most beautiful damn thing I’d ever laid eyes on.

“Just get on a plane,” I said to Cain, and cut off the call. I slid the phone into my back pocket and smiled at Leo. “Hey, sailor.”

He padded down the cement steps and walked over to me, leaning against the Bug’s hood next to me.

“Morning,” he said.

“Morning,” I said, and rested my head against his shoulder. He put one arm around me, kissed the top of my head, and said, “Who was that on the phone?”

“Cain,” I said. “He’s the conjurer guy I told you about. I had a thought.”

“Was it a good thought?” he asked.

“It was a desperate thought,” I said. “Probably nothing, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

He tightened his grip around my waist. “You’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, I will,” I said.

He looked at me, his eyes dark and worried. “How are you feeling? I mean … with the magic and everything. Are you … dizzy? Headache? Is there something we’re supposed to look for, to know when to worry?”

I glanced around; although we were sitting in the midst of what looked like gray predawn, the sky above was blue. The sun had come up; it just hadn’t made its presence entirely felt through the thick growth of trees on my property. I held out one hand, closed my eyes, and tried to find it, that source of power I had touched last night. I remembered the spark that had come from Leo, the place in my soul his touch had brought back to life, showing me where the power hid in my mind. I approached it, and once I got close, I opened my eyes.

Focus. Control.
I felt the heat move through me, and the air in my cupped hand began to distort a little, like the space over black asphalt on a hot day. An awkward flame burst and shot from my palm, and then sputtered out, and I felt a wave of exhaustion run through me, as though I’d just put all my life force into that one paltry, sad display. I was breathing as though I’d just run a mile, and I leaned against Leo’s chest.

“I did it,” I said, my voice weak to my own ears. “In the daytime. That means I was right. Yaaaaaaaay.” I put up a weak fist of victory in the air and laughed, then noticed that Leo wasn’t laughing with me.

“Hey,” I said, looking up at him. “Please. Don’t.”

He forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t what?”

I slid off the hood, stood in front of him on wobbly legs, and took his hands into my own.

“This sucks,” I said. “It’s awful and if I was in your position, I would feel exactly the way you’re feeling now. But there’s no way out of this but through. I need you to believe in me right now, because if you believe in me, then I’ll believe in me.”

“It’s not about believing in you.” He watched me for a while, then said, “I just got you back.”

“I know. I’ve gotta power through this thing first, though, and I can’t do it if I’m constantly worrying about you worrying.”

“Then I won’t worry.” He pushed off the Bug and pulled me into his arms. It was strange how comforting that felt, how just the physical touch from this one man could make my world so much better. I closed my eyes and let myself fall into him, let him hold me up for a few moments until I got my strength back, at which point I tilted my head back to look up at him.

“We need to make breakfast and get ready.”

He smiled and kissed my nose. “Already?”

“Already,” I said. “I’ve fallen into a big pile of shit and I have to start shoveling my way out.”

“Aw,” he said, smiling. “That’s my classy girl.”

*   *   *

I sat Deidre Troudt and Clementine Klosterman down on the stolen stools that furnished my little garden shed, and explained everything as best I could, considering there was no small amount of it that was currently baffling me.

“You have to stay away from your triggers,” I said at the end of my speech, and handed a vial to Deidre Troudt. “That’ll keep you safest for longest, giving me time to figure out something better. If you find your magic getting out of control, if it’s happening at night, if you feel exhausted or you pass out, put some liquid in the vial and drink it down.” I glanced behind me at the case of purple vials. After the one each I was giving these two, that left four for me and the Widow.
Tick tock, tick tock.
“Let me know as soon as you use the one you’ve got, but if you stay away from your triggers, you shouldn’t need it at all before I get you the cure.”

Ms. Troudt looked at me. “And when will that be?”

“Soon,” I said, and hoped I looked confident. I needed these two happy and out of my hair for the moment. I turned to Clementine. “How have you been doing?”

Clementine pulled her wide eyes away from the vial in her hand, then pushed her glasses up on her nose and said, “Good, good. I got the job at CCB’s. Thanks for that. It’s so much better than the IGA.”

“Any more incidents?” I asked, but before Clementine could answer, Ms. Troudt stomped back into the conversation.

“So, you’re telling me all I have to do is stay away from Dr. Feelgood, and all this goes away?”

“Um, excuse me, Ms. Troudt?” Clementine said, her voice low.

“No,” I said, keeping my focus on Ms. Troudt. “I’m saying that if you stay away from Dr. Feelgood, it’ll get bad less quickly.”

“Ms. Troudt?” Clementine said, her voice a little louder.

“How am I supposed to do that?” she said. “I finally find the love of my life, and you want me to just stay away from him? I need to talk to him, I need—”

“Hey!”

Both Ms. Troudt and I stopped and looked at Clementine, whose face was flushed and whose posture was straight. I smiled.

“Yes, Clementine?” I said.

“I was about to answer you when Ms. Troudt interrupted me,” Clementine said, and she raised her eyes to meet Ms. Troudt’s, pushing her glasses up on her nose. “That was rude.”

Ms. Troudt stared at her, her eyes wide. “Who the hell are you?”

“Cl-Clementine Klosterman,” Clementine said, glancing at me for reassurance as her confidence started to fail her. I gave her a nod, and she looked back at Ms. Troudt. “You don’t remember me?”

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