Winter's Spell, page 29
The bracelet felt warm in her palm and comforting.
“Is that the bracelet of Gwenhidw?” said Roxy, her voice low and hushed in awe.
“Yes,” said Rhoda. “Roxy, put out your hand.”
Roxy did as she was told, and Rhoda placed Madame Clerval’s ring and Isidora’s on Roxy’s outstretched palms. Roxy shivered and made a face.
“Yuck. They feel terrible. How could anyone hold them in their hands?”
Rhoda didn’t respond or look at Roxy. She kept her gaze trained on Tessa. “You see? I gave the rings to Roxy. She has only pure intentions. Give your ring to her as well.”
There was no reason not to do as Rhoda said. In her heart of hearts, Tessa knew that she did not want the rings or what they represented.
She placed the ring into Roxy’s outstretched hand, and immediately she felt better, as though a fog had lifted off her. She felt lighter, more energetic, happier.
Tessa barely had time to enjoy this sensation of lightness and joy before the three of them gasped in horror as the three rings rolled together and merged into one large glowing green eye in Roxy’s palm.
“Yuck!” said Roxy, instinctively dropping the eye into the sand at their feet.
Before any of them could react, the eye disappeared into the sand, like a crab burrowing into the beach. Quick as a flash, it was gone.
“Crap,” said Roxy. “I’m sorry!”
“Oh no!” said Tessa.
Only Rhoda remained silent. After a moment, she shrugged. “Maybe that’s for the best.”
Chapter Twenty-nine—Roxy
The next morning, Roxy woke up in Tessa’s bed.
She stretched and yawned and looked over at Tessa. She was still fast asleep, and she looked peaceful. A lock of hair had fallen onto her face, and Roxy pushed it gently back over her ear.
Tessa wrinkled her nose in her sleep, sighed, and resettled herself.
Roxy wanted nothing more than for Tessa to wake up so they could discuss everything from the night before properly, but more than that, she wanted Tessa to get some rest. Images of Tessa, lying unconscious on the beach, continued to haunt Roxy, and she’d woken up several times in the night with that image in front of her eyes as if she were reliving it over again.
She decided she’d take the opportunity to shower. They’d been so tired the night before that they’d barely had the wherewithal to change into pj’s and brush their teeth.
First, they’d had to wake up Joy and make up some explanation for what had happened before taking her home, then they’d gone back to the theater, where they’d found Lisa and Chayo enjoying some Jameson and chatting away like old friends as they cleaned up and organized the dressing room and wood shop. They’d been relieved and distressed when they saw Roxy and Tessa—relieved to see them, in general, but distressed at the fact that they’d been in the waters of the Bay that night.
By the time they’d assured them they were okay, and fed them the same story, it’d been well after two in the morning, and they were asleep on their feet.
Roxy turned on the shower and enjoyed how the hot water slowly revived her, bit by bit. What was the story they’d settled on? She tried to recall.
Ah, yes. Rhoda had helped them craft something that was akin to the truth—that Mo had wanted to go for an evening walk on the beach, and Roxy had gone with her. There they overheard some people boasting about the vandalism at the theater, and Mo had impulsively tried to confront them. There had been a fight and some of them had gotten in the water in the heat of the moment. When Joy and Tessa arrived, they called the police and then tried to break up the fight. Eventually, the vandals ran away before the police could get there.
Roxy had worried that Lisa and Chayo wouldn’t believe their story—it sounded completely ridiculous after all. Maybe it was the Jameson or maybe it was the general chaos of the evening, but Lisa and Chayo didn’t bat an eye, even when Roxy shared that Mo had decided to go to Boston and stay with their cousins for a few days because she was so upset by the events of the evening.
It was the most ridiculous set of lies Roxy had ever tried to pass off as the truth, but the actual truth was even less believable.
Roxy combed her hair and dressed. She thanked her lucky stars that she always kept a spare set of clothes in the trunk of her car. It was a habit she’d developed as a kayaking instructor. You just never knew when you’d need a spare pair of trousers or underwear.
Before she left the bathroom, she looked at herself again in the mirror.
It was her same old self, wasn’t it? Same dark, curly hair, cut short—needed a trim at this point. Same dark brown eyes and short stubby lashes, same sparse freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks. She looked at her hands—wide, strong, capable of handling a kayak or ski poles, wielding a hammer or screwdriver.
And yet. The night before, there had been something else there in her hands—in her.
She had wielded magic.
Roxy smiled. She’d never given much thought to the fact that her best friend, Hazel, was a witch and she was not. It was simply a fact of life. Yet, when Mo had first told her, insisted on it, in fact, that she had magic within her, a flame of jealousy had flared up within her.
She’d always wanted to have magical powers, always envied Hazel for that. She hated to acknowledge that, but it was true. And lying to herself about it wouldn’t help anyone. She’d envied Hazel’s good grades, happy family, and even her marriage to the beautiful and talented Elizabeth—but those were things Roxy was aware of.
Roxy had never fully considered that she might be jealous of Hazel’s magic. She’d always thought it was awesome to have a friend who was a witch. Hazel had, for a while, even given her some magic love potions to help Roxy’s love life, a habit that had, at one point, not ended well for Roxy. But still, Hazel had always been willing to involve Roxy with her magic and use magic for Roxy’s benefit.
This was totally different, though. That sizzle of power in her fingers, the feel of the magic rising inside her like a stream whose banks disappeared during a rainstorm, was like nothing she’d ever experienced. It’d been scary—but also really freaking awesome.
She flexed her fingers. They felt completely normal now. Roxy wasn’t sure if the magic she’d wielded so easily the night before would always be there when she wanted it, or if it had been the result of something Mo had done to her to activate it. Or maybe it was something else completely? Maybe it had been the panic of the moment, like when a person was able to lift an entire car in an emergency situation? She’d heard of things like that.
Roxy tried to summon the magic again, right there in Tessa’s bathroom.
Nothing happened.
Oddly, Roxy wasn’t disappointed. Somewhere within her, she could feel a small flame of magic. It was still there, but she didn’t need it. It was enough to know that she had used it once—and she could again, if the necessity arose.
Back in the bedroom, she found Tessa awake and smiling. She pouted when she saw Roxy.
“Already dressed? I thought we were going to snuggle this morning.”
Roxy hopped on the bed next to her and put her arms around her. “We can snuggle any way we want to, baby.” She kissed Tessa gently on the cheek.
“Mmm, you know what I mean,” said Tessa, pushing her body flush with Roxy’s, and Roxy felt desire stir within her, like a shiver from the inside. Tessa’s lips on hers were flaming hot, and Roxy found herself breathing hard in an instant.
“Oh, I see how it is,” said Roxy. They kissed a while longer before Roxy pulled away. She wanted so much to strip them both naked and have her way with her, but to be honest, she was starving.
Roxy’s stomach rumbled loudly, and Tessa pulled away with a laugh.
“Hungry are we?”
“Mmm,” said Roxy, nuzzling her neck. “I love you. But I also love breakfast.” It felt wonderful saying those three little words.
“I love you, too, Roxy Bright,” said Tessa, her warm brown eyes full of happiness as she gazed at Roxy. “Come on, I’ll make you breakfast.”
When Tessa slid out of bed, it was clear to Roxy just how drained and tired she still was from the night before. She looked pale and faded, faintly unsteady on her feet.
“Honeybuns, let me make you breakfast today,” said Roxy, wrapping her hands around Tessa in a hug. She felt tears well up in her eyes for a moment as she considered, yet again, how close they’d come the night before to losing one another. “You need to rest.”
Tessa wrapped her hands around Roxy and rested her head on Roxy’s chest. “Maybe you’re right. I still feel so tired.”
Roxy made her signature scrambled eggs. Not that there were any special ingredients or anything. She joked that they were her “signature” eggs because they were one of the only things she knew how to make from scratch really well. “Low and slow,” her grandfather had always taught her, and her eggs were always fluffy and moist.
Roxy relished watching Tessa eat and enjoy the food—and she enjoyed it too. She was ravenous.
When they were finished, they sat for a while at the table sipping their coffee.
“So,” said Tessa. “I guess there are some things we need to discuss, huh?”
“Uh, yes,” said Roxy with a smile. Now that she was well-rested and well-fed, she found herself wondering about what had happened the night before. She was also relieved that she could finally tell Tessa all about Mo. It had been a secret weighing on her ever since that first kiss at Tessa’s apartment. At least, Roxy reminded herself, Tessa also had some secrets she’d been keeping.
“Who first?” said Tessa with a smile over her steaming cup of coffee.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” said Roxy. She launched into the story, from the beginning—finding Mo on the beach, taking her home, learning she was a mermaid, going to the museum and the whole story with the missing bracelet, the stolen grimoire…it took a long time to recount all the details.
Tessa was utterly rapt by Roxy’s story and frequently asked follow-up questions, gasping at the right moments and shaking her head in surprise or amazement as appropriate.
“Wow, that is incredible,” said Tessa. “I hadn’t ever considered the possibility of mermaids.”
“Me neither,” said Roxy. “I always knew there was magic in the world, and witches—”
“You did?”
Roxy nodded. At this point, she felt it was pretty safe disclosing Hazel’s secret. After all, Tessa was no stranger to the magical world. “Hazel is a witch. From a magical family. She even dated a vampire for a while.”
Tessa’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? Really?” She paused. “I knew that dress was something special.”
Roxy chuckled. “Yep. Enchanted by her mom. We put out that it was done with LEDs, but nope. It was one hundred percent magic.”
“And you…?”
“A mere mortal,” said Roxy. “I can’t really explain what happened last night. That night I saved Mo, she seemed to think I was magical somehow. She even thought that I had set the trap in the Bay that night.”
“But you’d never…”
“No,” said Roxy, lifting her hands in a gesture of helplessness. “I had no idea even that non-witches or magical folk could do magic.”
“Then let me be the first to tell you that there are plenty of us who don’t come from magical families or long lines of witches and wizards who do magic,” said Tessa, putting her hands over Roxy’s on the table between them.
“How is that possible?”
“When I went back to Amherst, I rented a cottage from a woman who lived there, Freya. She saw that I was depressed and unhappy, and she sort of…took me under her wing,” explained Tessa. “At first, she was just showing me how to do stuff in the garden. We’d clip herbs and she’d show me how to hang them up to dry, explain what they did and how to use them. Eventually, though, she told me that all of us have magic within us, it just takes someone or something to bring it to the surface.”
“She taught you how to do that?” Roxy was intrigued, and part of her was a little angry too. How had Hazel or her parents never thought to tell Roxy that? That she could learn magic, too?
Tessa nodded and sipped again at her coffee. “She showed me how to do spells—how to gather energy from the natural world, to create wards for protection, and to cast spells for things like balance, happiness, and new beginnings. None of it is nearly as exciting as what we were doing out there last night. What Freya taught me is called hedgecraft. I’m a hedge witch—though after last night, I’m wondering if that’s still even true.”
“What does that mean? Hedge witch?”
“Freya always taught me that it means you’re self-taught,” said Tessa. “Hedge witches focus on magic drawn from the natural world for the betterment of their own peace of mind and those around them. They seek balance, and they use nature as their inspiration. It’s not about fancy spells or glamours. Hedge witches take their inspiration from the healing women of the past who tended gardens and gleaned things in the forests and meadows for their salves and medicaments.”
“Does everyone know about them? Among the Otherworldly, I mean?” Roxy was still trying to understand how this magic was different from Hazel’s. Or maybe it wasn’t? Was it the same magic after all?
“I don’t think so,” said Tessa. “But I’m not sure. Hedge witches tend to keep to themselves. They don’t have covens or anything like that.”
There was a pause in the conversation. Roxy soon found herself lost in thought, wondering how she could know so much about magic and still be so ignorant of all its forms. Part of her wanted to leave the room so she could send Hazel a text and ask her why on earth she’d never told her about this possibility? She found herself consumed with the idea that Hazel had kept this back from her, even as another part of her refused to believe that. Her best friend knew how important magic was to her.
“What are you thinking right now?” Tessa’s voice broke into her thoughts. She sounded worried, and when Roxy looked at her again, she saw real concern in Tessa’s gaze.
Roxy smiled. “I’m sorry. I just…I don’t understand how Hazel could have kept this a secret from me. I mean, I could have been doing magic for years at this point.”
“Is it possible she didn’t know that any other magic existed? Maybe she didn’t know about hedgemagic at all? Freya mentioned that some magic folk think rather poorly of it. Like it’s illegitimate or not real magic or something.”
“I guess.”
“You said you were really good friends. I’m sure she didn’t know about it. Otherwise, she would have told you—right?”
“Right,” said Roxy, though without much conviction.
“So that was really your first time doing magic?” said Tessa. She sounded impressed, and Roxy felt her sense of pride push away her feelings of jealousy.
Roxy nodded and smiled. “Yep. First time. Maybe it was beginner’s luck? It was…incredible.” She let herself relive the feeling of the buzzing, crackling, white-hot power in her hands—the sensation of it under her skin, right there at the surface, ready to burst out at her command. “Is it wrong that I liked it?”
Tessa laughed. “I don’t think so. And I’ll tell you what, it was damn sexy.”
Roxy felt a different kind of power uncoil itself beneath her skin that had nothing to do with the magic she’d used to fight the Three Sisters.
Fleetingly, she wondered if she and Tessa should discuss what had happened to Madame Clerval, Barb, and Isidora, but rested and fed, with a gorgeous woman in a bathrobe next to her, it didn’t feel like a pressing concern.
Roxy set her cup on the table and reached out to Tessa; as if on cue, Tessa came over and straddled her, hands reaching up to tousle Roxy’s still-damp curls. Their lips met and Roxy felt red-hot desire flow through her. She marveled for a second how different this could feel than the cool, rushing sensation of magic, before her mind turned off and desire directed her arms to enfold Tessa and hold her close, and her lips to connect with Tessa’s in a dance of passion and need.
This moment, of lips on lips, tongues mingling, bodies pressed together was a magic all its own.
Chapter Thirty—Tessa
In the afternoon, once they’d had their fill of one another again, Tessa and Roxy went for a walk to the beach before heading to the theater.
Tessa had texted Chayo, Joy, and Lisa separately around lunchtime to check on them, and so far, only Lisa had written back. That woman had a schedule that no late-night brouhaha could change.
The temperature had swung up again. It was nearly fifty degrees out, and the wind from the previous night had died down significantly. There was a soft drizzle coming down, but it didn’t last long. By the time they’d walked to the beach, the fog was lifting, and there were small patches of blue sky visible between the clouds.
There was no sign of the struggle from the night before. The tide had risen and receded since they’d been there last night.
Tessa felt strangely disappointed. It was as though the whole night before was a dream.
“Weird,” said Roxy, kicking a broken piece of shell into the water with the tip of her black Converse Chucks. “It’s so peaceful here.”
Tessa nodded. “What if we dreamed it all last night?”
Roxy had her arm around Tessa’s shoulders, and she gave her a reassuring squeeze. “I know I’ll never forget that night. The first time I said I love you and really meant it.”
Tessa looked up at her, searching out those beautiful brown eyes. “I know the feeling.”
“Sorry to interrupt. Again,” came a now-familiar voice behind them.
