‘‘No,’’ he said. ‘‘It was definitely me.’’
‘‘Prove it.’’
He drew one finger up my arm, and the cooling ease of mint followed it. It was like the magic in me burned with fire, and the magic in him flowed with ice. I shivered and it wasn’t from cold. He felt good. Incredibly good.
Fire and ice. Hell of a pair we made.
‘‘What does that have to do with saving my life?’’
His finger paused and the magic within me cooled and flowed out of me, back to the natural store deep beneath the earth. The pressure from holding so much magic and then being released from it spread like a warm blanket over me. I felt relaxed, content. I felt like we’d just had sex.
‘‘I Grounded you.’’ He smiled. ‘‘And you liked it.’’
‘‘I don’t need you to do that, you know. I could do it for myself.’’
‘‘Just say thank you, and we can get going.’’
‘‘Is that all it will take?’’
‘‘Well, that and admitting you are very lucky I am good at Grounding. Very lucky I was here with you just now—very lucky I was with you after you Hounded that hit on Boy—very lucky I was there when you went off the deep end pulling magic to try and help Cody—’’
‘‘Heal Cody. And not try. Did.’’
Zay’s smile slipped a little. ‘‘Heal? You healed him?’’
‘‘I told you that already.’’
‘‘No you didn’t. You said you thought he was hurt, but we couldn’t find any evidence of it.’’
Shit. It must have been Nola who I told. I hated it when I found memory gaps in my head.
‘‘Well, I’m telling you now. I healed him. With magic.’’
‘‘No one can heal with magic.’’
‘‘I know. I did.’’
The smile was gone, the warmth and teasing were gone. In their place sat neutral Zay, calm Zay, Zen Zay. ‘‘That explains why it took so much to Ground you.’’
I didn’t know what to say to that. Grounding, or acting as a lightning rod for another magic user while they are using magic, was not an easy thing to do. You had to be incredibly malleable, incredibly pain tolerant, and incredibly calm while you guided magic to exit another magic user, or exit a spell, and flow back down into the earth.
The way magic worked, you couldn’t Ground yourself. But having another magic user—someone who handled magic in their own unique manner—step into the exact rhythm and style of your casting and Ground you was so rare as to be generally unadvisable.
People who tried it and succeeded were highly trained specialists and usually lingered around high-powered people, serving as bodyguards. Even so, just because in theory a trained specialist could Ground a magic user, it always caused harm—a double Proxy if you will—to the bodyguard. One Offload, or price paid, for his or her own magic, and another price paid for the magic the person they were Grounding was using.
But Zayvion didn’t look like he was in pain, didn’t look like Grounding me was causing him to pay a double price.
Of course I’d heard that there were those rare combinations when the two magic users, caster and ground, were so well matched that Casting and Grounding were like dancing the tango, two bodies moving, breathing as one. Still, someone always paid a price.
Maybe Zayvion was just very, very good. Or maybe we were just very, very good together.
‘‘Allie, I am trying to keep you alive. It would be nice to know these kinds of things.’’
I tried to remember what we were talking about. Oh, yes. Healing.
‘‘Is there anything else you haven’t told me?’’ he asked with a smile. ‘‘Any other abilities you’ve developed? Invisibility? Super strength? Can you crawl up walls?’’
‘‘Oh, please. Get off me, Jones.’’ I giggled and accidentally snorted. Sweet loves, I was getting giddy.
‘‘Are you sure? Okay, fine. Fine.’’ He sat up and levered the back of his seat to a more upright position, then levered mine up too.
‘‘You warm enough?’’ he asked.
‘‘I’m fine.’’ I pulled Zay’s jacket off my lap, where he must have put it when I was knocked out. I wrapped it over my chest and shoulders.
‘‘You didn’t answer my question.’’
I shrugged. ‘‘There’s nothing else I haven’t told you. Just the healing thing.’’
‘‘No big deal. Just the healing thing,’’ he mimicked.
‘‘What is your problem? You don’t think I should have healed the kid? Do you want me to apologize for saving his life? Forget you, Jones. I healed him. Deal with it.’’
‘‘I didn’t say you should apologize, but you could have mentioned it.’’
‘‘When?’’
‘‘Before.’’
‘‘Oh, that’s clear. Before what?’’
The muscle where his jaw and ear met clenched. ‘‘Before we . . . before we went to Nola’s.’’
That was not what he had meant to say. I figured he really meant to say before we slept together. Before we made love.
‘‘I tell you what, man of a million secrets. When you tell me all the things about you and your life that I want to know, I’ll return the favor.’’
Silence. Maybe we were both a little angry. Silence suited me just fine.
It started raining, and Zay flicked on the wipers, both of which squeaked. Miles went by.
Fine. I did not need to coddle man-moods. Instead, I leaned my head into the window, pillowing it with my hand, and tried to think what I should do once we got to Violet’s place.
‘‘Where does she live?’’ I finally asked.
‘‘Who?’’
‘‘Violet.’’
He glanced at me, looked back at the road. ‘‘Don’t you ever read magazines? Watch TV? Read a paper? How can you not know these things?’’
‘‘The last newspaper I read told me my father was dead. And you know what? Maybe I do know this stuff, and maybe I’ve even known it for years, but maybe one of the last dozen times I’ve almost blown my brains out casting magic I lost those memories.’’ My voice was rising. I was angry and, sure, frightened. I’d like to see anyone else go through what I’d been through in the last few days and act like a cheerleader.
‘‘Do you know how many birthdays I remember having as a kid? Three. I’ve seen pictures of all the other ones, but I can’t remember them. None of them. Not even the ones when my mother was still around. Don’t give me shit for the price I’ve had to pay to live my life. I didn’t get a choice about losing my mind. Magic is a heartless bitch, and she’s had me by the throat for years.’’
So much for moody men. Chalk one up for the moody female.
Zayvion let the windshield wipers have their say for a while. Then, ‘‘Sorry. Violet’s been living in the condo with your father since they were married sixteen months ago. Before that, she lived at one of the other properties he owns in the city. The condo is downtown.’’
‘‘I know where the condo is,’’ I grumbled. Realizing just how petty I sounded, ‘‘Thanks, though. I didn’t know when they got married. I never received an invitation.’’
‘‘She didn’t wear white,’’ he offered. ‘‘And I think her flowers were lilacs and daffodils.’’
‘‘You pay attention to the strangest details. Most men would be scoping the crowd for single desperate drunk chicks.’’
‘‘That would be Joan, and she was a friend of the bride’s cousin. Recently dumped.’’
I held up one hand. ‘‘That’s all I need to know about that.’’
‘‘I thought you wanted to know my secrets.’’
‘‘I don’t need to know who you slept with at my stepmother’s wedding.’’
He grinned. ‘‘Okay. Your father looked happy, and maybe a little bewildered. He kept looking over at Violet like she was a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out.’’
That didn’t sound good.
‘‘There’s not a person in this world my father couldn’t figure out,’’ I said.
‘‘There’s you.’’
I thought about that. He was probably right. My father never understood my motivations, my desires, my needs. He had an idea of who a daughter of his should be and expected me to fill that preassumed role in his life. I’d let him down pretty badly on that account.
But it did make me more curious about his newest wife.
‘‘So tell me about Violet.’’
‘‘What about her?’’
‘‘Do you like her?’’
‘‘She has been good to work for. Fair. Intelligent, but demanding, as you’d expect of someone pushing the edge of the technological magic field. She has a dry sense of humor and is blunt about her opinion. Like some other women I know, she’s a little too stubborn for her own good.’’
I let that comment pass. ‘‘Do you know if my dad gave her a controlling share of the company?’’
Zay glanced over at me. ‘‘I thought you weren’t worried about the money.’’
‘‘I’m not. I’m just trying to figure out why she would have married my dad. I mean, money is the obvious reason, but it could also be for some of the patents for magic and tech integration he owns. I could see a woman who was involved in scientific innovations liking the package he could offer her: security, visibility, ability to take product to market, funding, and access to patented technology. Not to mention friends in low and high places.’’
Zay shook his head.
‘‘What?’’
‘‘Did it ever cross your mind that she might have married him because she loved him?’’
I laughed. No snorting this time. ‘‘Right. Just like his other four money-digging wives.’’
‘‘Five. Or don’t you include your mother on that list?’’
‘‘Low, Jones.’’
‘‘I’ll take that as a no, then.’’
It was the sort of comment that should have made me really angry, and when I was younger I might have even hit him in the nose for it. But I’d had time to think about why my mother married my dad. Maybe it was love in the beginning. I hope there was still love when I was conceived, but for all I know she was in it for the quickly multiplying fortune he was acquiring. I had been told she wasn’t living in the poorhouse overseas. Dad paid alimony to all his wives, and I knew my mom was, for the most part, taken care of because of the years she’d spent with him.
Not that I had heard from her since she left.
‘‘Do you really think any woman would marry Daniel Beckstrom without thinking about how good his wealth was gonna look on her?’’
Zay shrugged. ‘‘Probably not.’’