Authors: Elaine Lowe
He rose and turned back to Sophia, who’d never really left his thoughts at all. He wondered what in the seven hells she was doing, caught up in a wild round of gesticulating with the immutable Ixchel. Her beautiful brown hair was far from the sleek bob he’d seen her wearing this morning and it flew in a cloud of hazy wisps around her head as she struggled to communicate. Her teeth bit at her full lower lip and there was a blush of color on her cheeks, either from their activities in the car, the run up several flights of stairs, or her current debate. Daron had the desire to get her riled up with another fight. If he could not yet have her passion in his bed, then he wanted to watch her fire burn anyway he could.
Alas, a resolution of sorts was reached, as Ixchel tipped her head sideways a bit, reminding Daron of the older women of the
Sinti
when they questioned the sanity of a rash youth. With a raised eyebrow and a move to wrap her colorful shawl more tightly around her shoulders, Ixchel bent to turn off the little stove. Still shaking her head and muttering with a wry little smile on her sun-darkened face, Ixchel handed the ever present kettle of warm water over to a now smiling Sophia.
That smile brought another kick of lust straight through him. Beautiful white teeth and that particular passionate glow to her skin. And her eyes echoed the light in her smile. She turned to him and he saw the smile alter a bit and the blush return to her cheeks full force. Her eyes flickered down to where a hint of his retuning arousal was all too evident and he tried to force his mind back to the task at hand.
Sophia swept past him, kneeling in front of Hester. “Hello there, Miss Hester. My name’s Sophia. I’m a friend of your mother and Mr. West.”
Hester nodded, eyes wide and face paling. Daron could see the return of the quiet shy face Hester often turned to the world. He stepped forward to reassure but Sophia knew better. “Ah now, I seem to remember meeting you once before in the Park. I remember you had a fine-looking tongue on you. Do you think I could see that tongue again now that I can examine it in better light?”
June let out a puff of air that was almost a laugh and Hester’s jaw dropped open in shock. Sophia smiled that winning smile and Daron clamped his lips together to keep from chuckling. Alan had no such compunction and snorted with glee.
“Now, now, I can’t see your tongue in your mouth! Stick it out now! It’s a perfectly nice tongue, I’m sure.”
Hester blinked a second, visibly suppressing another round of coughing in order to obey. Sophia tipped her head to both sides, inspecting thoroughly. “All’s well then. It is a very nice tongue then. I suspect that you shouldn’t be stickin’ it out in the cold anymore, it might get sick.”
“Yes ma’am!” Hester said quickly, though there was a ghost of a smile on her face. But the urge to cough finally won out and she was struck again with a fit. Daron rushed to take Hester’s hand and Sophia stroked one of her hands over the girl’s forehead, looking intently at the child, as though searching for something only she could see. Daron was certain then that Miss Sophia Hunter was far more than just a typical New York City flapper. The urge to heal was strong within her, so strong it could not be denied no matter how much she tried. He knew that it must be equal to his own. That was the way of
ashavi
.
Sophia nodded her head, obviously coming to some sort of decision. Daron wasn’t sure what he expected but it wasn’t her next question.
“June, do you have any coffee?”
Even Alan looked at her like she was insane. “Soph, honey?” He jerked his head toward the coughing girl. “I don’t think this is the time…”
“Shut your yap, Alan Lowbridge. I think I know what I’m doing! You might be the expert in moonshine brewing but this here is my own particular brand of chemical know-how!” Determination written on her features, Daron watched as she jerked June to her feet and skirts billowing, marched toward the cupboards that held kitchen goods.
Quick as a wink, Sophia was holding up a chipped blue mug containing a thick brew of coffee and sugar, strong enough to keep a man awake through the night. Hester looked at it with trepidation but Sophia would brook no resistance. “I know the stuff tastes terrible like this love but I’m thinking it might just help what’s ailing you. Drink it fast and we’ll try to get you something else to ease the bitterness.” Sophia’s face held nothing but kindness and concern. Her brow holding the tiniest wrinkle, her nose flared with worry, her voice sweet and rich. Daron knew she’d be like this with their own young ones someday and the thought made him start.
He’d known his whole life that it was his destiny to journey far and wide to find his match, the one woman who would call to him and his powers with an irresistible pull. He’d gone through all the
Magi
training that was required of him, at first to make his parents happy and then to keep their memory alive in his heart. Deep down, he’d always thought he’d spend his life alone, searching but never finding. When he did find his woman, it was not all that natural falling into place he had expected. Sophia Hunter was a wild thing and he was still not certain that he wouldn’t end his life as a broken bitter old man. To find himself picturing children, his children with this
Gadje
woman—that was something new and so strange it sent a shiver up his spine. Whether it was a shiver of fear or longing, he was unsure.
While he was lost in thought, Hester had gulped down the mud-thick mess and went through another coughing fit in reaction to the taste. Sophia had brought out a jar of some kind, as well as several packets of herbs. Daron was surprised. He’d expected magic like his own but raw and untutored, not the knowledgeable herbal practitioner that she obviously was. This was not a woman who he could tame and mold to be his mate. She was most definitely her own person.
At Sophia’s urging Hester chewed on a leaf of something from one of the herb packets to clear the bitter taste from her mouth. Meawhile, Daron watched with curiosity as June and Sophia worked to rub in the ointment from the jar, some kind of strong mint smelling concoction on the girl’s chest and back. Sophia and Alan kept up a running commentary on the usefulness of strong smells to ward off evil Princesses and soon both Hester and June were laughing.
The kettle of water had been poured over the rest of the herbs and the air was filled with the moist heat and the smell of herbs. Alan wrinkled his nose but June looked relieved. Ixchel looked reluctantly impressed, especially as it was evident that Hester’s color was returning and the eerie wheezing that had accompanied each exhalation seemed to lessen with each passing minute.
Sophia turned to June. “I only wish I could do more. The smoke from the stove, heck, the smoke from every ruttin’ stove in the whole damn city, that’s what’s given her such a hard time of it. You can wrap her in a thousand blankets but that’s not the least bit helpful. She ain’t sick…not the kind of sick she can give to other folks.” Sophia sighed heavily and Daron could feel her mixture of fatigue and longing when she continued, “What she needs is clean air, somewhere out in the open. Someplace warm, without all the coal smoke.”
Her brown eyes were lost for a minute in the smell of fresh earth, the rustle of fallen leaves. Daron knew that feeling, had felt the need for the countryside the entire time he’d lived on this overcrowded island. He wanted to step out and explore the vastness of a new continent, the wide rivers and tall mountains and vast forests that he’d read about in books. But he’d always felt something holding him back to the first city in which he’d arrived. Now he wondered if it was her. Had she pulled him all the way across the ocean, when he’d lost all sense of home in the mountains he’d been born in? Had she been the one for whom he took his Searching name, West?
It was June who pulled him out of his reverie. June whose eyes never lost their haunted look. June was crying. He’d never ever known her to cry.
Sophia wrapped her arms around the younger woman, holding her close. Daron wished he could help in his way but June had always resisted his comforting touch, unable or unwilling to have a man touch her, even to remove her mantle of sorrow. It was Alan who stepped forward, placing one hand on Sophia’s shoulder and one tentative hand on June’s. For once, June didn’t flinch.
Sophia was muttering soft words into June’s hair and Daron could see June relax some. “Momma?” Hester whispered, scared more than a little by seeing her brave, strong mother succumb to long overdue tears. “You goin’ to be okay?”
“Yes, missy,” June said, widening her eyes and sniffing a bit to keep any new tears at bay. “You and I are going to be just fine.” June turned to Sophia, who’d backed away a bit as June had reclaimed her composure. “I don’t rightly know when I’d be able to leave the city. There’s people…it would take time to do it proper.” Her eyes, puffy and red from crying, flickered toward Daron and then nervously passed over Alan before returning to plead with a pensive Sophia. “Mr. West…Daron…he’s got a Gift. Like my momma used to talk about when I was a wee one. I got a feeling that you have a like Gift, after what we saw up on the Hill that morning. Can that… Would you…”
Sophia shook her head, cutting June’s plea off. “I would if I could and you know it. I saw that Mr. West can help.” Sophia turned her eyes to his and Daron felt and saw her admiration, her yearning. Both for him and his ability to help. “But my talents don’t work like that.” She exhaled hard, as though this very fact had caused her more pain than she wanted to admit. “I can see the problem, where the hurt is but I can’t do much to help it, other than these herbs and such.” She made a halfhearted gesture to the herbs floating in the bowl at Hester’s side, to which a quiet Ixchel was adding more warm water. A fresh wave of scent hit Daron and he breathed easier with the smell of mint and licorice, mixed ever so slightly with something he was sure was purely Sophia.
She could heal far more than she thought she could
.
Power was there. Her desire to heal is just as strong as mine.
He grabbed her hand in his bare one, seeking to convince her of her own powers. She gasped, her eyes locking with his for a moment, before turning to Hester. When Sophia looked at Hester and Daron held both of their hands in his, skin to skin, he drew in a sharp breath as the world turned upon itself. His vision was magnified a hundredfold. He glanced down at their clasped hands and blinked hard, as the bonds between them were like a thousand summer suns, the intensity brilliant enough to blind. The world was a very different place seen through his
ashavi
’s eyes. He could see, not just feel, the emotions roiling in hearts and minds. Flecks of living light were contained in everyone. For June, young and strong, despite her many trials, the energy flowed fast and free, the spark of life vibrant. Alan was also teeming with energy, full to brimming with the potential of youth. In contrast, Daron soaked in the golden peace of Ixchel, her innate calm ruffled by the anxiety of waiting for the play of events to unfold in a language that was not her own. The density of particles swirled and flowed with her every breath, the only slight disturbance in the stream was the unorganized eddies surrounding her left knee, which Daron knew had pained her for years, from before she had even come to the United States with her husband Carlos Garcia.
Most surprisingly, he didn’t have to wade through the complex morass of conflicting emotion to see the connections between people. He could see with jolting certainty the layers of shining bonds connecting him to Ixchel, to June, to Hester. He could see the bonds leading away from him to people out in the world, his sister, Mary, Irene and Michael, Tommy, Carlos, Giuseppe—everyone who he had in the world and in this town he’d made his home. He could see the tentative swirls of gold reaching between Alan and June, despite June’s preoccupation with her daughter, with whom her bond was so thick, so strong and bright that he was surprised that it was not visible always, without peering through the special magic Sophia carried within her.
It was all confusing, like a blind man seeing color for the first time and unsure how to describe their meanings. He brought his eyes to Sophia’s and saw a glowing happiness there, an awe equal to his own.
“It’s never been like this,” she whispered, her voice touched with reverence.
Sophia was beautiful. More than the sweet softness of her skin, the swell of her breasts as she breathed, the elegance of long fingers entwined with his—her silvery white energy filled him with want. For her body, her soul, her passions. His own energy, a complement in coppery orange, reached out, filling the incandescent bond between them with desire and something more, something so overwhelming he felt that he would be lost in it.
And then there was pain. Hester’s pain, flowing through him into Sophia and back again, to be thrust into the void with practiced ease. Nothing terrible, nothing extreme but the contrast jerked him out of the silence of rapt contemplation and back to the problem at hand. Daron had almost forgotten that he was still holding Hester’s hand as well. He’d spent hours with her sometimes, when she was really bad, when it was a fine line between her seeing the next day or not and a little bit of comfort and freedom from fear was all he could offer the little
chavi
. He turned to look at her, pale and wan as ever, struggling despite all of Sophia’s medicines to release one breath and take in the next.