Authors: Camilla Chafer
“See you tomorrow,” said Étoile, dropping a kiss on each cheek and I waved a hand to Seren and David who had cosied up to each other.
“I can’t tell you how glad I am you’re all here,” I said to Evan when we were alone as I buckled in. He turned the heating on and a warm blast of air hit me. “It’s been hell wondering about you all.”
“No more hell.” Evan leant over and kissed me. He lingered his lips on mine and I relaxed against him. No vision, great.
A few minutes later and we left the restaurant in our dust. When we had turned out of the last residential street, he asked me casually, “Have you been practising your magic at all?”
I couldn’t help blushing and being glad he probably couldn’t see it in the twilight. Evan had once been my teacher, for only a few short weeks, before he’d become my lover too and we hadn’t had long together after that. I was only surprised that he hadn’t asked about my practice earlier. I squared up and confessed. “Not as much as I should have, but I do find things easier. And there haven’t been any accidents.”
“Have you been round people much?”
“Yes, but not in stressful ways. So maybe it doesn’t count for much.” Growing up I had had lots of unexplained accidents, so many that people actively avoided me. Every time I got stressed, or angry, or anxious, there would be someone to slip, stumble, or fall, or an accident just begging to happen. It left me tense and skittish, and people afraid of me. Accidents simply didn’t happen anymore. And it wasn’t just lack of stress, there was always stress thanks to the Brotherhood, but the day to day anxieties of life seemed to not affect me as much.
“It counts,” Evan said after he’d taken a moment to mull it over. “It means you’re containing your magic. That was one of the things that made it so hard to find you. Not finding all those little traces, I mean. When I first met you, your magic used to hover all around you; it trailed wherever you went.”
“I saw something like that with Marc. When Eleanor died, his magic came back and it was incredible.” Eleanor had spellbound Marc, her son, since he was an infant for her own cruel, nefarious reasons. When she’d died the spell had been undone and the magic had rushed back to Marc. It had been bright and powerful and it had shone all around him like the most incredible aura. I wondered what it looked like now, whether it burned with that same intensity or whether he’d got it under control.
“Right. I saw him at the hospital a couple of times. It hadn’t quite faded.”
“You saw each other? How did that go?”
“Fine. We didn’t have any long heart to hearts. He wanted to help look for you, so did Kitty, but she wasn’t well enough.”
“I spoke to Kitty earlier.”
“I bet she was thrilled.” He glanced away from the road for just a moment to look at me, his mouth curving into a smile.
“I was too.” I thought for a moment, than tentatively asked, “How come I don’t see anyone else’s magic?”
“It’s one of the easiest ways to spot a witch. All that magic untamed shows itself as a bright light. Witches are taught to keep it under control, to not let it leak out. You’re doing a good job of keeping yours controlled.”
“I’m not trying.”
“That’s even better. It means it’s just your natural state, rather than something you’re trying to force on yourself.”
“That’s a good thing?”
Evan nodded. “Definitely. You shouldn’t have to be concentrating on containing your magic, you just need to harness it and make sure it’s always there to bend to your will. It should be something that’s so automatic, it barely takes any of your reserve energy.”
“How did it... how did I get like this?”
“Accepting it and embracing magic are two big steps. Training is another. Realising your power and controlling it is the last step. You just need to practice now.”
“Always the teacher.”
Evan grinned, shadows from the street lamps passing over his face. “You better believe it.”
“How come I’ve never seen your magic?”
“Mine isn’t like witch magic. It doesn’t show. You’ll be able to recognise me, and my kind, in other ways.”
Evan turned the car on to the long road that led up to my house. After a few minutes the tree line broke and I could see the bar that nestled there. Tonight it was all lit up inside and I could hear music drifting over the lot. I could see Annalise’s car and just as we flashed by I thought I caught sight of Gage standing on the veranda that circled the building. I frowned.
“You ever been in there?” asked Evan, glancing over at me.
I shook my head. “I think it’s some kind of members’ club. You have to know someone to get in. Don’t you think that’s strange? Who would have a member’s club out here?” And how come Gage and Annalise were there? But I couldn’t ask Evan that.
A few minutes later and we were on my drive and Evan parked next to my car.
“Yours?” he asked nodding to my little car.
“There’s not much in the way of public transport here. It’s kind of a necessity.” It also explained why I wasn’t feeling as fit as I used to but I wasn’t going to say that either. I’d have to up my running soon to stop the softness that I imagined was creeping up on me. Pre-emptive exercise was better than too late exercise.
“You don’t shimmer?”
“I didn’t think that would be okay. You know shimmering down to the market then flashing out of the parking lot.” I could imagine a few freaked out Wilding faces at that.
“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it all though,” pointed out Evan. “You need to keep your magic strong and the more you practice the easier it will come to you.”
I held my hands up in surrender. “Okay, I get it. No more being a magic slob.” I laughed when he gathered me up in his hands like I weighed nothing and skipped up the steps. There was a moment of awkwardness as I grappled with the key and the lock, then we were inside and kissing furiously, all thoughts of visions gone replaced by very welcome touching. We didn’t quite make it to the bed but the sofa welcomed us like old friends as clothes flew in our wake.
Later, laying in bed with a sliver of moonlight streaking over us, Evan told me of daemons and their place in the world and I struggled to absorb the enormity of what shared the world with so many oblivious humans. Later, as I was on the edge of sleep, he whispered how much he loved me before his language switched to an ancient tongue that lulled me as I drifted away.
My dreams were full that night, not of terror and death as I’d been afraid of, but instead there was me and Evan and I felt free at least. But when I held him in the dream world I could see, over his shoulder, Gage looking at me, and when my eyes met his, I trembled. It wasn’t the surprise of seeing him there; it was that I didn’t dare get close enough to see what his eyes would reflect of mine.
Eight
I stood, hands on hips, in the centre of the road and stared far into the distance. For the first time I’d ran to where the thick, dense tree line broke and now there was nothing for miles and miles and miles but green fields split neatly in two by the tarmac that snaked its way towards the cold winter horizon. There was a threat of rain in the air and a freezing light wind so I tugged the zipper of my jacket up until it was snug under my chin. The temptation to join a gym that I could drive to, and exercise in cute sweats before hitting the hot showers, was never stronger than it was now.
“What are you doing?” said a girl’s voice behind me and I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat. Turning round I saw Chyler stood there, her hands thrust into her pockets.
“Running,” I replied, breathing in and out to slow down my heart. I’d just about recovered from the run when she’d given me an impromptu heart rate test.
“On the spot?” she asked sarcastically.
“Um, no. Taking a breather.”
“Don’t you go to a gym?” Chyler had a slightly nasal voice that made everything sound like she was completely grossed out. She probably listed it as a skill on her resume. “With a running machine or something?”
“How could that be better than out here?” I looked around me. Okay, she definitely had a point and no amount of protesting would make up for the lack of glossy equipment and a pumping soundtrack, not to mention heating, but personal pride made me obstinate.
“It would be warm.” Chyler smirked then shivered in her thick padded coat which reminded me I was only wearing thin layers of jersey. I had relied on running to keep out the cold and now I was stood still, cooling rapidly. I tried to envisage warmth. I failed.
“How did you know I was here?”
“The book,” she said.
“Where is it?”
“I told it to hide.” She shrugged but didn’t expand further and for a moment I thought she was a frightened little girl, not a snarky kid, when she said, “It’s not safe.”
“Where are you staying?”
Chyler hesitated. “A hotel.”
“Where are you really staying?” I gave her my special no nonsense look that I usually reserved for temp employers who thought their business deserved special rates, and waited for her to wither.
Chyler rolled her eyes. “In an abandoned house, somewhere over there I think.” She flapped a hand in a vaguely easterly direction. I noticed her manicure was chipping at the edges.
“How did you get here?”
“Same way as yesterday. I said the same spell from the book. Look, can you do me a favour? That’s why I came.”
I raised my eyebrows at her directness. Now we were getting somewhere. “What kind of favour?”
“Can you get a message to my mom? Tell her I’m okay. I don’t want her to worry.”
“Chyler, I...” I did not know how to tell her; I’d never had to break news of a death before. Plus I was worried about what I’d been told yesterday. My friends thought Chyler had killed her mother, yet Chyler was asking me to get a message to her and my vision fuzzed everthing. Something was really, really wrong with this picture. I looked at her, my heart thumping, and drew a breath that I exhaled into a sigh.
“What’s wrong?”
“Some friends came to see me yesterday.” I gestured to a fallen tree by the side of the road and even though Chyler looked at it with distaste, like sitting on a fallen tree trunk was something only hobos did but she sat on it next to me anyway, her knees bumping together as she shivered. “Chyler, they told me that your mother was dead.”
“What? Why would they come all the way here to tell you that? My mom... she’s dead?” She sat looking at her feet for a long, uncomfortable few minutes in which I wondered whether I should hug her or do something comforting. I started to reach over to pat her shoulder but she pulled away, her lip quivering.
“I’m so sorry, Chyler.” I waited for a moment just to see if she was listening, then told her, “They were looking for you. They guessed you might want a witch who was on the outside to help you.”
“Were they worried about me? Are these friends of yours going to help me?”
There was no easy way of putting it so I blurted. “They think you killed your mom.”
“I, like, totally didn’t!” Chyler’s jaw dropped open in disgust. She jumped to her feet and paced backwards and forwards. After a minute, she stopped next to the tree trunk and stared me down. “You believe me, right?”
I barely moved my shoulders when I shrugged. “I want to, but someone killed your mother. Did anyone have motive?”
‘Only everyone who wanted the book.’ Chyler sniffed. “How did my mom die?”
“She was stabbed,” I said, watching carefully for her reaction.
Chyler made a noise that was uncomfortably wedged somewhere between a squeal and a sob. “Oh my God!”
“I’m sorry.” It didn’t get any more simple than that. What else could I say? “So how many people want that book of yours?”
“My aunts, the council... I don’t know who else, Stella.”
“I guess that doesn’t narrow it down much.”
“Not at all,” Chyler wailed as she threw herself back down on the log and picked at the bark. “Can we go to your place? Maybe you can do some kind of spell on me? I don’t ... I ... I feel.” Chyler’s whole body shuddered and she lurched forward. I was just hovering my hand over her back, wondering if she’d passed out or was going to throw up on her shoes (and should I hold her hair?) when she sat up, back totally straight and beamed at me. She rolled her shoulders around and laced her fingers together stretching her arms like she’d just gotten up after a long, lazy lie down.
‘Stella,’ she grinned, like we hadn’t just been having a very uncomfortable conversation. She looked at the bark in her hand and flicked it to the floor then shook her head so her hair fell back in shimmering waves across her back. There were little twigs caught in it and bits of dust that gave her a slightly unkempt tree nymph look. I wondered how rough the abandoned house was that she was hiding in.
I peered at her. “Are you okay?”
“Fine! So, what were we talking about?”
“Your mom.”
“Oh, right. Whatever!”
“Whatever?” I repeated, my brows knitting together in concern.
“Yeah. You know what we should do. We should lay a trap for anyone who comes looking for me.” Chyler jumped up. “Yes, that’s what we should do. I bet you could lay down some pretty cool magic. Like a booby trap?”
I ignored the sudden about-face in Chyler’s temperament and asked the obvious. “Why would I do that?”
“Well...” Chyler wrinkled up her face like a pug trying to fathom if it could get a treat simply by raising a paw. “Because they’re going to come looking for me and we should get rid of them straight away. They’re going to hurt me and you’re not going to let that happen. Are you?” She tossed her head and stared straight at me.