by J L Collins
“I don’t blame her. The menagerie is so cool. I’d love to work with all of the creatures there like she does,” she said thoughtfully, smushing Jax’s wet nose against her cheek. “Wouldn’t I, Jaxy? But wait . . . didn’t they need to pick someone like ASAP?”
I nodded. “And they did. They offered the job to Zoya.”
Fi gave me a funny look. “But . . . wasn’t all of this sort of her fault? She’s the one who somehow gave the idea to the Changelings, right? I thought for sure she’d at least get fired. I mean I liked her and all but . . . the MARC doesn’t seem super forgiving.”
“You have a point, and I was actually pretty surprised myself. The way it was explained to me was that they saw it as part retribution for what happened, and Zoya was actually the one to suggest it. She already lived there and everything she cares about is at the library. She feels so badly about what happened of course, and trying to find a Witch to literally stay inside the grounds of the Athenaeum for the rest of their life isn’t exactly easy. So now she’s the first half-breed Witch to ever run the Athenaeum. I got a chance to congratulate her. She seems okay, all things considered.”
“But . . . isn’t she an Alchemist? She uses a wand, right?” Fi frowned. “I thought you had to be a Siren for that? Wasn’t Rourke?”
I leaned in, smirking. “They had us all tricked. Or at least everyone but Uncle Gardner—he knew the truth. Can you keep a secret?”
Her blue eyes went wide, her nose scrunching up. “Seriously? You know I can!”
I thought about her and Marina and how hard it was on her not to include her best friend in everything. “I guess you can. Okay so . . .”
I explained to her how the Keeper of the Pages is actually meant to be an Alchemist—because the Athenaeum itself is the most powerful amplifier in the realm. It was why the place felt so cold and dead after Rourke’s death. The Keeper’s job is to sync magic with the library in an effort to give it the most protection possible.
The only downside was that Rourke’s magic was wearing down over time as he got older. No one realized this, and the boundary line that held in his magic was diminishing inch by inch backwards from the property line. Zoya spilled the beans that night she brought up with me, and the secret was out. It was possible to take the power away from the library by killing Rourke. That would leave it defenseless, thus how they stole the spell book.
Fiona-Leigh sat back. “That’s actually pretty genius. It’s nice to see that an Alchemist has such a high authority. Aunt Bedelia told me that’s not very common.”
“She’s right—it’s not. Not when the Sirens are capable of handling their magic without the need for amplifiers.” I shrugged. “It is what it is.”
Deep down though, I felt a proud hum of satisfaction running through me. My daughter could understand, even as an outsider. And Uncle Gardner certainly got it. He’d offered me a position to come back onboard with the MARC, with a custom title just for me.
“We need someone like you who can think outside the box, Gwen. Having you around again has proven to be nothing but beneficial. Won’t you consider it?” The softness around his eyes had almost made me rethink my previous decision for just a moment. Almost.
“You know me, sir. I have Fiona-Leigh to worry about. At the end of the day, she needs to be in a world where she fits in. And I’m so over the drive back and forth between my house and the gateway. I think I’m going to take several weeks off from that particular excursion, by the way,” I’d said, thinking about the miles I was putting on my poor old Jeep. “But really, Uncle. I appreciate the offer. More than you’ll ever know.”
And it was true. The very thing I’d worked so hard on obtaining again, I had it now and I wasn’t going to take it for granted. His trust and pride in me.
“I’ve missed you,” I mumbled into my pillow after flopping back on my bed. It felt like it had been forever since I had the chance to just relax and fall to sleep like normal.
I flipped off the lights, slipped on my favorite t-shirt and shorts to sleep in, and went to put my wand on my dresser. The blinds were half open and I went to close them when a light across the street caught my attention.
Sully was sitting outside on his porch swing, with what looked like a beer bottle in his hand. The swing glided along gently, and I could see the tiny pinpricks of light popping up here and there between my house and his. Fireflies. He looked utterly relaxed with his head tilted slightly back so he could stare up at the sky.
I bit my lip. In the ten seconds it took me to throw on my robe and slippers, I made two decisions.
One, I needed to make sure Fiona-Leigh was in bed.
And two, I was going to go talk to Sully. What was I going to say? That… I’d just have to wing it with.
Taking a moment to make sure my hair wasn’t too messy, I listened for Fiona-Leigh. When I poked my head out of my bedroom, I saw that her door was shut with the glow of her moon-shaped nightlight visible underneath.
I wrapped the thin robe around myself and took in a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever came next.
There were a million things running through my mind as I quietly locked the front door behind me and stuck my house keys in the pocket of the robe. I thought about Zoya and Rourke, and Rourke’s duty to the Athenaeum standing in between them. I thought about the gateway standing between Adam and I, along with everything in the world that was different between the two of us.
I crossed the distance between my house and Sully’s in several strides, my legs not carrying me fast enough without breaking into a full run. My heart raced; my limbs tingled from the electricity that felt like it was rising up from the ground under my feet.
Sully noticed me out of the corner of his eye as early autumn leaves crunched underfoot. He sat straight up, eyeing me with interest. “Gwen?”
Why did every word that came out of his mouth sound so… right? My name most of all.
I smiled, shyness suddenly dimming down this burst of bravado. “Hi.”
His eyes crinkled in the corners. “I see you and Fiona-Leigh are back home.”
Standing awkwardly at the bottom of the three steps to his porch, I shrugged, still wearing a goofy smile. “Just finished the assignment today. So I’m home free for the next couple of days anyway. Back to the ol’ nine-to-five on Thursday.” What? The ‘ol nine-to-five?’ Who am I?
“Nice.” He looked around his feet before he unearthed another beer, holding it out to me. “Want one? You can come up here, you know. I won’t bite.” The corner of his mouth quirked up, revealing the dimple there that had been hiding under his dark beard.
Do. Not. Hyperventilate, Gwen. “Sure. Why not?” I did my very best not to trip over my own two feet and took the opened bottle from him, sitting down on the swing next to him. “Thanks.”
“How was it?” he asked.
Have I seriously missed something? That’s what I get for paying too much attention to the way his t-shirt is clinging to his shoulders. Shoot. “How was . . .?”
He chuckled, downing another sip of his bottle. “Your freelance project.”
“Oh! It was um, good. I’m just glad it’s all done with,” I said, the relief genuine. “It was pretty stressful, actually.”
“I hear you. Marina went home yesterday afternoon and I had to pull a double shift at the hospital. In my case, ‘death waits for no man’ usually just means overtime pay.”
Laughter bubbled up from my chest, and both of us laughed way too much at his joke. It felt perfectly natural.
“Sully?” The word formed on my lips before I could stop them. Was I really doing this?
He turned to face me full-on. I expected the smile to still be on his face, but it had slid away, replaced by something else unreadable. “What’s up?”
“I’m sorry. For . . . turning down dinner with you the other night. I probably came off pretty rude.”
“Nah. You were busy, I get it.”
My gaze drifted down to the drink in my h
and. The guilt I’d been holding back was starting to be too much. “No, it was rude and I’m really sorry. What I actually should have said,” I turned to face him too, meeting his eyes again, “is that I’d love to.”
He blinked, looking stunned. “Really?”
“Really.”
And there was that smile I’d been waiting for. “You and Fiona-Leigh free tomorrow evening? I’m off for the day.”
“Oh. Well . . . she’s supposed to be finishing up her project with Marina. So I guess she’ll be going over to Marina’s house then . . .” I let my voice trail off.
It was like watching a light bulb go off over his head. “Dinner for two, then. If you’re willing.”
Nothing could hold back the ridiculous grin on my face. “I’m willing. What’s on the menu?”
He slid closer. “Lady’s choice.”
My heart could not beat any faster. I was sure I was going to suffer from cardiac arrest and end up being the next body Sully would have to examine. I chased away the thought, because now was certainly not the moment to be thinking of Sully examining my body… “Fine. I’ll pick, but you’re responsible for any dessert.”
Something flashed in his dark eyes, his hand closing over mine. “I can handle dessert.”
I didn’t know when or how we’d gotten rid of the space between us, but his other hand cupped my jaw, and somehow my hand wound itself in his curls. Our eyes were locked. My body tensed.
He brushed his lips against mine, sending all sorts of sparks through me that had nothing to do with magic… or did they? I kissed him back just as softly, tasting the tang of the beer.
When had I decided to do this? I wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the moment I knew he saw me for me. Or maybe when I saw him sitting here looking so blissful and relaxed. Either way, I was kissing Sully Pritchett.
And I was loving it.
Everything else in my mind died down, and all that remained was Sully’s lips on mine. I would allow myself this. To have this little piece of happiness, however brief, because I deserved it. If things didn’t work out between us, then c’est la vie, and I won’t have to stress over my secret anymore. And if it did…
We would cross that bridge when we came to it.
The End.
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About the Author
J. L. (Jerri) lives in the Lowcountry of South Carolina, with her family and feisty furbaby. She loves southern food, literally any dog, hiking, Carolina sunrises on the beach, shopping on King Street, and curling up with about twenty different books on the weekends. Her favorites are mysteries and fantasies where the characters make her laugh, cry, and feel #allthefeels. When she gets the rare chance, she also likes to go exploring and learning more about Charleston’s rich history.