A Cold Day in Spell, page 6
I could carry on a conversation with three people who had an altered perception of our shared history because I was a being of logic, not emotion. Mackintosh Clark meant nothing to me.
What a load of utter—
Hush up in there.
At least she wasn’t sniveling anymore.
My appetite flown, I nudged bits of salmon around my plate while trying to keep my eyes away from Kin and concentrate on listening to Mona and Mark—mostly Mona—describe their elopement and subsequent honeymoon.
“It wasn’t technically an elopement since our families were all there, more like a small wedding that happened too suddenly to invite everyone.” Her tone carried an apology, but a look passed between the newlyweds that made me think another announcement might be forthcoming.
Their order arrived by way of a pretty server who paid extra attention to placing Kin’s plate just so. I heard Lexi growl in my head, but he barely gave the woman a second glance.
After taking a bite of pasta that made her hum in appreciation, Mona picked up the story again. “Mark’s grandfather couldn’t travel, so we all packed up and went to Wisconsin. It was a small, outdoor ceremony. We were married in the gazebo at night with a thousand fairy lights shining on the snow. Magical.”
“It sounds lovely,” I said. And it did. I wasn’t a total robot, you know. I knew how to make small talk, too. “You didn’t get those tans in Wisconsin. Must have been some honeymoon.”
Mona blushed and Mark explained. “Our families pitched in and sent us to Cancun for two weeks. The kayaking was incredible.” Mona blushed again.
“Did you get to see Chichen Itza?” Kin and Mark launched into a detailed discussion of the Mayan ruins that made me wish I was free to travel for more than two or three days at a time. Only half of my job involves matching soul mates, and I could do that anywhere. The other half keeps me tied to hearth and home. Or hearth, anyway.
As Keeper of the Balefire—the magical flame from which I take my name and my power—my presence was crucial to the process. Witch feeds the flame and flame feeds the witch—it was the Balefire way. A circular issue, I know, but one that meant I could not leave for long periods of time without jeopardizing the health of the fire. I’d nearly let it go out when my magic came in late, and the fallout risked magic for all of witchkind.
Lost in contemplation, I missed the beginning of Mark’s next story. “—entourage wherever we went. It was like traveling with the Pied Piper.”
“Oh stop.” Mona flashed Mark the side-eye. “Well, we did get the VIP tour of the ruins, and I spent a day learning from the most incredibly talented artist. I will never forget the sweet abuelita who taught me how to make exquisite sugar skull designs. Her philosophy about color and style changed my life. I mean that literally.”
“No, I mean it in the best way.” He reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. “You make friends without even trying. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”
The praise made her blush and spurred a comment from Kin. “You’re one of the lucky ones, man. True love doesn’t come around that often, so hold on to her, and never let her go.”
Leaning over to interrupt my thoughts, Mona whispered in my ear, “See what I mean? You have to do your thing and help him. He’s such a nice man, but look how sad he is. He deserves to be happy.”
Of course, that made me look, and once I did, I could see the lines around his mouth and the tension across his shoulders, but mostly it was the hint of flatness in his eyes that gave Kin away. He wasn’t happy, not like I’d seen him, anyway.
He misses me. Even if he doesn’t know why, he’s lost without me.
I didn’t disagree with the voice in my head, but the flare of hope tightened my jaw until my teeth clacked together.
Mona lowered her voice even further, “Maybe you both could find happiness. Two birds, one stone. He seems like your type.”
How did she know I had a type?
“I can try.” I heard the words come out of my mouth and still didn’t believe I’d said them. Because I hadn’t. It was Lexi sneaking past my blocks and taking control when I wasn’t paying attention.
If you think for one moment I believe that you have no ulterior motive, such as, I don’t know, trying to get him back for yourself, think again. You’re not fooling me.
It’s not about that, and it never will be. The witch lied.
Mona squeaked and bounced in her chair. To cover, she looked at Mark and said, “Honey, we have to go. I’m sorry, I forgot an appointment.”
The poor man let himself be dragged away from his half-eaten meal while Mona pressed a hand to Kin’s shoulder. “You stay and talk to Lexi. No reason to ruin everyone’s lunch.” And just like that, Kin and I were alone together for the first time since the moment in the hospital when true love went down in a blaze of Diana’s dark intent.
Another surge of hope pulled me, Lexi, out of the depths, and nearly up to the surface where Alexis still held sway. She tried to shove me back down, which started an internal struggle for control, and I think I surprised her with my determination. Enough so that I stayed closer to the surface than I had in a long while.
Not for the first time, I regretted letting the goddess out to play. Maybe we were supposed to be one and the same person, but supposed to be meant nothing to me now. I’d needed time to lick my wounds, but the world—or at least the greater Port Harbor section of it—needed a Fate Weaver. And so, I’d summoned my inner goddess, and now was paying the price. At least, that’s how it seemed to me at the time.
Kin smiled, and memories of him instantly crowded my head. Us meeting, him singing, the kiss that should have sealed our fates, him teetering on the edge of a deathly drop into a chasm. The good, the bad, the sublime. We’d been through so much in such a short time, and I still wasn’t certain I was the best choice for him. He’d been in danger more often than not during our months together. Diana Diamond’s spell was probably the best thing that ever happened to him.
Alexis was wrong about me wanting to pursue Kin now. It wouldn’t change the past, and I wasn’t in the market for more pain. Still, I loved him and because I did, I pushed hard against her for control.
Head tilted to one side, Kin studied my face for a moment, and even knowing I should look away, I studied his in turn. Was there a flicker of recognition to pin my hopes on?
“I didn’t have a chance to say this yesterday, but you look familiar. Have I seen you around? I play at Driven on Wednesdays and most weekends. Maybe you’ve caught a show?”
Was he flirting with me? To be honest, it had always bothered me that our relationship had gone from zero to sixty in about two weeks flat. Don’t get me wrong—we’d been all kinds of happy and in love, but we had also missed out on those moments of breathlessness that mark the beginning of a courtship.
Driven was on the short list of places to avoid, and while I contemplated, Alexis took over and confirmed that our paths had not crossed. Technically a lie, but one with an edge of truth.
He grinned again and my heart fluttered. Or at least the part of it that Lexi currently controlled, which wasn’t much, but enough to warm up the cold tones I tried to use on him.
“So did you just get railroaded by Mona, or are you actually interested in having me find your match?”
Absently, I nipped the garlic pickle off his plate and popped it in my mouth. Then I noted his raised eyebrow. It was one of our things and I’d fallen into an old habit without thinking. Almost every seafood restaurant in town used the pickles for garnish and Kin hated the taste of them.
My face flamed red—not something that happened to me often—as I shoveled a forkful of cold salmon into my mouth and tried to cover the faux pas. “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Here, you can have mine.”
His husky laugh sent shivers down my body and he gave a manly shudder, if there is such a thing. “It’s okay. I’d rather eat dirt. It’s just that I had this compulsion to offer it to you, and I’m not sure why. Then you took it. You know, I’m beginning to think Mona was right about you.”
My hands shook a little—partly, I assumed, from trying to keep my disparate bits together, but also from his effect on both parts of me—so I clasped them together in my lap. Anything to help me get through the next few minutes.
“Oh, and what exactly did Mona say?” I couldn’t begin to hazard a guess.
“Just that you have a knack for quickly getting to know people, understanding their needs, and giving them what they want. Basically, a glowing recommendation.” Kin replied with a grin.
“Yes, well,” I said, “Mona has a tendency to get excited, and a propensity for exaggeration.”
“Her instincts seem on target to me. It’s uncanny how comfortable I feel around you. It’s like we knew each other in a past life.” Kin winked. “Or maybe it was just fate that brought us here. But what about you, Lexi Balefire? Do you believe in fate?” The husky way he said my name, and his eyes searching mine brought a twinge of familiarity and regret to both pieces of psyche. I shook my head, but didn’t speak because Lexi slammed my throat closed too tight to let words pass.
“Are you so busy helping other people you can’t take time to find love yourself? Your eyes are sad. I don’t like seeing them that way.”
Under his gaze, Alexis faded into the background. How could he still see me so clearly?
I tried to deflect and repeated my earlier question. “Tell me a little bit about yourself and what you’re looking for in a relationship.” Quickly, before I can’t hold it together anymore, I added silently.
Glutton for punishment. I guessed she wasn’t totally gone.
Maybe I was, but I had to know. Back and forth, my desire to help Kin and my need to quickly exit the situation swung like a pendulum.
He leaned forward, rested his elbows on the table, and tilted his head toward me. “You won’t find her. I know you mean well, and so does Mona, but it’s a fool’s errand because the woman of my dreams only lives in fairy tales.”
The admission left me temporarily speechless. Did he remember something about me? Or had he harbored princess fantasies all along? Distracted by wondering, I barely noticed when Alexis took over and I became a spectator in my own life again.
“Snow White or Sleeping Beauty?” If that was his type, then I thought Lexi was well shot of him. Despite my low opinion of the way she handled heartbreak, neither one of us was the princess in need of rescue type.
The man was adorable when he blushed.
“Don’t laugh, but neither.”
“Cinderella? That’s even worse.”
Kin’s brow furrowed. “How is it worse?”
“Snow White and Sleeping Beauty at least had real enemies—evil queens. Cinderella was a wimp who refused to stand up for herself and had to be rescued.” I shuddered a little and then added, to my way of thinking, the cherry on top of the weenie sundae. “By fashion.”
He held back a snort, but a smile played around his lips. The server chose that moment to pop up and ask if we needed anything. I shook my head and asked for the bill.
Leaning back to let her clear the empty plates, Kin insisted, “Put hers on mine, please. I’m feeling like a prince today.”
This time, I wasn’t the one who put up a wall between us. Lexi slammed a door in my head so hard my eyes jittered. For form, I took up the argument for paying my own way, but Kin gave his most charming smile to the waitress and, tossing me an envious glance, she scurried off to do his bidding.
When we were alone again, he turned serious. “I’m not interested in a Cinderella, either. You misunderstand. It’s not the princesses who intrigue me. It’s the wicked witch I can’t get out of my head.”
I didn’t know what to do with that, so I shut my mouth.
“Come to Driven and listen to me play. We’ll tell Mona you’re working your magic on my love life and no one has to know that I’m a hopeless case with a fantasy fetish. Tomorrow night, I go on at eight.”
“I’ll have to check my schedule, but I think I’m booked.” I rose to leave. “I’ll…uh, look through my files and be in touch.”
“Don’t you want my number?” He called after me.
Back to him, I shot a wave over my shoulder and lied, “I’ll get it from Mona.”
Collar up to protect me from the frigid wind that blasted in from the harbor side of the city, I let my feet carry me on autopilot the two blocks back to my office while I argued with myself the entire way. By the time I stepped into the vestibule, Lexi was no longer speaking to me, and while that suited me just fine, she’d decided to take out her frustrations by giving us heartburn.
You’re a child and a jerk.
When silence met the taunt, I called myself an idiot for talking to myself, and shrugged off my winter coat. Winter-dried air, a knit sweater, and the shiny lining material combined in the perfect storm of static annoyance. Pinprick shocks blanketed my back, my hair lifted for a few seconds, then both hair and sweater plastered themselves flat against my body.
Somehow, during the personality split or whatever you want to call it, Lexi and I managed to separate our powers to the degree that I’d have to ask for her help with the static, and I’d rather set my hair on fire than do that. So, I scratched at my shoulder where even the softness of my knit sweater made the dream brand itch, and walked back into my office.
Angela was busy playing telephone deejay, and I barely acknowledged her as I passed through.
“Got any new victims lined up for me?” I was still trying to do something with my hair while simultaneously scratching at my shoulder when I stepped into the inner workings of FootSwept and heard Flix tapping on his keyboard.
“Victim seems like a harsh word.” Carl, the man Flix had cut his hair for, leaned against the corner of the desk. “Aren’t you supposed to be rescuing people from the big bad stealer of love? You should call them…what’s the word for it? Rescuees?”
An ornate mirror with a gilded frame, the one remnant from before the salon remodel, confirmed my hair looked like crap and when I twisted to see the back, there was a spot of blood on my sweater where I’d apparently scratched harder than I thought.
“Thanks for the grammar lesson, Teach, but that’s not even a word.”
Carl’s a nice enough guy, but not one I wanted to flash my boobs at, so with a wince, I stretched the cashmere neckline of my sweater down far enough to bare the mark on my shoulder. From what I could see, it looked normal—as normal as a nightmare brand could look—and there was no trace of blood on my skin.
“Woo-hoo,” Flix whistled in a friendly, teasing manner. He must have forgotten we no longer shared an intimate friendship. I looked down and realized I’d miscalculated and most of my bra was hanging out. “Wait a second,” Flix’s eyes narrowed, “Did you get a tattoo?”
I sighed and turned to face him while setting my outfit back to rights. “Maybe. No. I don’t think so.”
Carl’s eyebrow lifted and Flix looked at me like I’d gone crazy, “You don’t know if you got a tattoo? How much of that Twinkleberry wine have you been drinking, anyway?”
“Very funny.” I almost kept my lips zipped, but reason won out over stubbornness. Flix was, after all, a faerie, and therefore possessed certain knowledge about supernatural creatures. It was possible he could have the answers I was looking for. “Look at this.”
I explained about my nightmare while I showed Flix and Carl the mark. “I feel like I’m stuck in a bad ‘80s horror movie. It just keeps replaying in my head, and every once in a while this spot itches so bad I want to scratch it off.”
The more I talked about it, of course, the more the thing demanded I rake my nails over it. “Whoever these riders are, they’ve got a death wish, because when I find them I’m going to rip their heads off.” Fury-born magic rolled over my skin, and Carl flinched and moved closer to Flix.
He looked so frightened you’d have thought he was the one being chased by a lantern-wielding psychopath instead of me. When he wouldn’t look in my eyes, I checked the mirror to see if I looked scary or something, but I just looked like me. Maybe my cheeks were a little pinker than normal, but that was probably due to my blood pressure rising to match my power.
“I know we’re—” Flix paused to search for the right way to word his thoughts. “In a different friend space these days, and I’m sorry if this crosses a line, but I’m going to tune back in until the threat has passed.” The Fae side of his heritage gave Flix a strong empathic ability which he’d only recently managed to control. I’d suspected part of his process included pulling back from me at roughly the same time I’d needed to pull back from him. His statement confirmed my suspicions.
Between the itching, the uncomfortable direction the conversation had taken, and knowing if I stuck around, I might spill the whole story of my lunch with Kin, it was time to get out of there.
After a quick look at my watch, and a hasty excuse that didn’t actually need to set my pants on fire for Flix to see the lie buried within, I bailed.
Chapter 9
The next morning I—or rather, the other version of me who enjoyed torturing herself to no end—was blissfully ensconced in a dream involving Kin and very few articles of clothing when a loud banging noise broke through my consciousness. I pushed my purple satin sleep mask onto my forehead and looked around, bleary-eyed, intending to chuck my phone across the room to silence the alarm.
When I realized the sound was coming from downstairs, and that it was actually someone thumping on the door, I sprang out of bed to investigate. I found Salem in the kitchen, his eyes the size of saucers, watching Serena unload enough baby gear to outfit a daycare.
“What are you doing?” I asked, smoothing my rumpled hair. We might be practically related and no longer at one another’s throats, but that didn’t mean I wanted Serena taking a mental picture of me looking like Swamp Thing.
