Calculated Magic

by SJD Peterson

  Tikron smiled when Richard stopped dead in his tracks and took in the sight above him with an awed expression.

  “So about that walk?” Tikron encouraged.

  “How did you do that?”

  “Magic,” Tikron replied with a bit of pride in his tone.

  Richard tilted his head from side to side as he considered the bubble, a look of concentration on his face. After a few ticks of the clock, his indifferent expression was back firmly on his face. “I suppose some would consider the mixture of butadiene-styrene latex adhesive J-21 FICIN Papain Polystyrene-B-Polybutadiene-B-PolystyrenePolystyrene-B-Polybutadiene-B-Polystyrene magic if they didn’t understand chemistry. I meant how did you get it to expand so quickly?” Richard poked at the bubble. “Very impressive.”

  “Polyste what?” Tikron asked in confusion.

  “It’s the chemical compound of rubber latex,” Richard explained. “It’s what such things as latex gloves and”—Richard poked the bubble again—“balloons are made of.”

  “I don’t know anything about chemistry, but I do know it wasn’t a chemist who made this. I did. Just for you,” Tikron insisted.

  “I realize you could not create such a substance without the proper chemical compounds and a lab. I was complimenting you on how quickly you were able to make it expand. The average time it takes to—”

  “I’m glad I impressed you. Although you don’t seem to be in awe of the design. Would you prefer it to display a sunny day?” Without waiting for a response, Tikron waved his arm and turned the starry night sky into one of bright sunshine and fluffy cotton candy clouds.

  The look of puzzlement returned to Richard’s face as he stared upward. Surely he would see it for what it was this time—magic. After a few more seconds, Richard shrugged. “Wouldn’t an umbrella have been easier?” He started walking again.

  “Sure, but nowhere near as cool. Don’t you think?”

  “I suppose so. I’m sure your fans are most dazzled by your displays of sleight of hand.”

  “My fans?” Tikron inquired.

  “Yes, those who patronize your magic show. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”

  Richard picked up the pace, forcing Tikron to lengthen his steps. In his haste, he tripped over an uneven spot on the sidewalk, causing him to lose concentration, and the bubble dispersed and disappeared. The rain that had collected on top instantly soaked him. “Oh damn, that’s cold,” Tikron grumbled.

  Richard glanced at him from over his shoulder, and Tikron caught a brief look at the slight smile on Richard’s face before he turned away. The first one. One that melted Tikron’s heart and was worth the shivering and soaked clothing.

  “Hey! I thought we were going to take a walk together? I promise this time I’ll use an umbrella,” Tikron called out.

  “Sorry, have things to do,” Richard repeated. He waved without looking back, then disappeared behind a door.

  Tikron stood staring at the closed door, water dripping down his face. He considered knocking and showing off more of his “sleight of hand” but decided not to push it any further at the moment. He’d already accomplished quite a bit in just a few minutes. He’d gotten Richard to talk to him, and that smile? Yeah, he was growing on Richard. The man wasn’t made of stone. There was a personality beneath that logic. Tikron just needed to keep chipping away at his rock-hard exterior.

  Tikron turned, whistling as he walked toward Ry’s place.

  RICHARD did his best to hide his smile until he was securely behind the door, and then he burst into a fit of laughter. How ridiculous Tikron had looked. Like a drenched cat. The image made him laugh even harder. The poor man had been trying hard to impress Richard with his silly parlor tricks, but the show had ended as a complete washout—literally.

  Richard had never been a big fan of magicians. Actually, they were nothing more than con men, charlatans, and modern-day snake-oil pushers. They promised their audience something that wasn’t real, something with no practical purpose. Flair, deception, and distraction to entertain those who were looking for happiness anywhere they could find it. Sad, really.

  Shaking his head, Richard slid the dead bolt home and dropped his messenger bag on the floor. Tikron wasn’t the only one who’d ended up drenched. He pulled off his loafers and then his soggy socks. He padded across the floor, leaving footprints on the hardwood. He removed his clothes, leaving a trail as he made his way to the bathroom. Albert raised his head and appeared to give Richard a disapproving look as he passed.

  “I’m wet and cold. I’ll pick them up after a hot shower.”

  Wow. He was not only drenched like Tikron but apparently mentally half-baked like Tikron as well. He was conversing with a canine. As if Albert actually cared about his lack of housekeeping skills.

  Richard flipped on the bathroom light, slipped out of his briefs, then set the taps on the shower to just this side of scalding. He was shaking so badly he nearly fell when he stepped onto the slick tile, but he caught himself at the last second. On solid footing, he wrapped his arms around himself and stood beneath the hot flow of water until the shivering eased. He adjusted his stance, hung his head, and groaned as the water pulsed down on the tense muscles of his neck and back. He’d have been happy to stay where he was for hours, it felt so damn good. However, the limitation of the hot water heater had him lifting his head and grabbing the bottle from the shelf.

  Finally, warm and much more relaxed, he poured a dollop of eucalyptus and mint shampoo into his palm. He worked it onto his hair, his fingers tangling in his curls. As he washed, images of Tikron’s smiling face popped into his head. He should be annoyed that the man had once again bothered him, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit flattered. Men rarely ever came on to him, and they never persisted once he shot them down. Tikron’s pertinacious behavior was something Richard wasn’t used to dealing with. He had no experience in this type of human behavior and was not quite sure how to handle it.

  He ran his soapy hands over his chest and down his body. He wasn’t surprised to find his arousal swelling. His body didn’t have the same issues with Tikron as his mind did. It knew exactly how to respond to Tikron’s advances. It was as if it was hardwired to react sexually to any thought or glimpse of Tikron.

  It irritated Richard to no end. He was normally in control of every aspect of his life. His mind kept everything completely in sync with his schedule, surroundings, and systems. Now it seemed it had taken a vacation and left this strange carnal being in charge, one that was nothing but chaos, running on lust and desire.

  A tingling, burning sensation bloomed across the length of his erection. Not the fun kind of warmth but the oh shit what the hell is that kind. It took him several moments to realize he’d been stroking himself with mint shampoo. He gritted his teeth and rinsed away the prickling lather, actually sighing in relief when the water began to cool. He leaned back, jutted his hips out, but was overly ambitious. His feet began to slide and his arms flailed ineffectively.

  In a blink of an eye, he saw his life flash before him, and he wasn’t really all that impressed with what he saw. At the last second before his ass or head or any other part of his body could connect with the hard tile, his hand caught the safety bar, stopping his momentum. He lowered himself down until his ass hit the cold floor. His heart hammered, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

  He scurried back to avoid the cold water flowing from the tap, his legs still too wobbly to support his weight. He should be relieved he hadn’t cracked his head open or broken any bones. Instead he couldn’t help but focus on the images of his life that had popped into his head when he’d been falling. He’d accomplished many things to be proud of, but all of them had to do with his career.

  The morose feeling clung to him even after he managed to get up and dry off. He thought about his parents’ relationship. While it was one based on compatibility that had stood the test of time, he couldn’t recall a single instant of affection between them.

&nbs
p; Towel around his waist and another draped over his shoulders, Richard sat down heavily on his bed. Since his teenage years, he’d yearned to find a relationship like his parents had. One scientifically calculated for the potential of success. Now the thought of entering a relationship like that just made him sad. He wasn’t sure how such a brief interaction with Tikron had changed his lifelong desires, but it had.

  Problem was, he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or one that would end in disaster. The notion scared him like nothing ever had.

  Breathe in the magic

  Chapter Eight

  WALKING through Ry’s front door, Tikron expected to find his best friend hunched over a stack of books or concocting another crazy love potion. Tikron found neither. Instead, the unmistakable scent of pot roast filled his nostrils.

  “Mom?”

  “In here,” Mom called out from the kitchen area.

  Tikron found Ry leaning against the counter, beer in hand and big smile on his face. Mom was standing next to the stove, stirring a large pot. Tikron scowled at both of them. “Were you two planning on inviting me for dinner, or is this a private party?” He then went and pecked his mom on the cheek and caught a glimpse of what she was cooking—new potatoes, pearl onions, and bacon. “Uh-oh, this must mean you’re about to give me bad news.”

  “What makes you think that? Can’t a mom make her son his favorite meal just because she loves him?”

  “Yes, of course,” Tikron assured her. “But it’s not your style. Besides, you’re at Ry’s place, not mine.”

  “Can’t she make the son she wished she had his favorite meal just because she loves him?” Ry countered. To which Tikron flipped him off in response. Ry, of course, only smiled bigger.

  “Okay, you two, play nice.” Mom covered her pot with a lid, dried her hands on a dish towel, peeked in the oven, then turned to Tikron. “Come give your mom a proper hug.”

  He went to her and pulled her into a tight embrace. The top of her head barely reached Tikron’s chin. Eugenia Amorith was a tiny thing but fierce. She had the same hair color as Tikron. Her eyes were also similar in color, Eugenia’s lighter. The family was resemblance unmistakable. Anyone outside of the coven would assume they were siblings, since they appeared close in age. They rolled with it when in public. Behind the scenes, she was a very protective mama bear of her only cub.

  Tikron patted his mom on the back and then pulled back, holding her at arm’s length as he met her worried gaze. Mom never could hide her emotions. She’d be a terrible poker player. “You might as well tell me the truth,” he said with utter seriousness. “You can joke all you want, but I can tell something is wrong. It’s written all over your face.”

  “I’m going to give in to Mysdus’s demands,” she said quietly.

  “The hell you are! You don’t love him, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you suffer because of me.”

  “But it’s not because of you,” she protested. “He’s doing this because of me. You’re innocent, and I won’t let you pay the price.” Tears welled up in her eyes.

  Tikron pulled her into another hug and cradled her head against his chest. “I can’t. I can’t let you do this. I won’t,” he said adamantly. “I have another plan.”

  “You do?” Ry asked.

  Tikron lifted his head and met his friend’s concerned gaze. “Yeah, I do.” He kissed the top of his mom’s head. “How about we dish up this delicious-smelling dinner and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  Mom nodded, then looked up at Tikron and sniffled. “I’ll listen, but if I don’t like it, I’m going through with my plan. The decision is mine to make.”

  Tikron’s chest tightened. He should have known his mom would try to sacrifice herself for him. Hell, he’d gladly do it for her if the situation were reversed. There was no way in hell he’d ever allow her to suffer because of him. He understood the why behind it. Still, he couldn’t let her spend eternity being miserable and having to endure Mysdus. Once Mysdus realized he could get Eugenia to bow to his demands, what would he do the next time he wanted something? A life cowing to Mysdus’s whims would be a miserable existence. No. He refused to allow it to happen. He pecked her on the forehead. “Okay, but hear my plan before we discuss yours.” There was nothing to discuss when it came to her involvement, but he didn’t point that out.

  After a long pregnant pause, she finally said, “Fine,” before returning to the stove.

  Ry gave Tikron a questioning look. Tikron winked at him, but Ry didn’t look convinced. That was okay—Tikron had enough hope for the three of them at the moment.

  Tikron grabbed some plates and took them to the table, Ry right behind him with silverware and cups. They were all silent, the tension coming from Ry and Mom so thick it was strangling. Tikron refused to give in to the negativity. He’d made progress with Richard tonight. He had to focus on that.

  Tikron took a seat next to Ry just as Mom set a plate heaped high with roast and potatoes in front of him. The scents wafting up were amazing. His stomach growled in response. “This looks and smells delicious,” he complimented. He dug in. Damn, it tasted even better.

  Mom sat across from him, laid her napkin in her lap, then pushed her food around on her plate without taking a bite. “So this plan of yours,” she prompted.

  “Actually, it was Ry’s plan,” Tikron explained. He took another big bite.

  “Mine?” Ry asked around a mouthful of food. Good to see the worry hadn’t hurt Ry’s appetite. Too bad it hadn’t improved his manners.

  “Yeah. You’re the one who found that little clause that I could use magic as long as I didn’t use it to interrupt his free will.”

  “Who is this he?” Mom asked.

  “His name is Richard and I met him at the local bakery.”

  “Actually,” Ry interjected, “Tikron didn’t meet him. He gawked at the guy for thirty minutes, then finally got up the nerve to talk to him and was shot down. Not once, but twice. It was quite the spectacle to witness.”

  Tikron waved a dismissive hand. “A minor detail, and I didn’t have to work up any such thing. I was simply waiting for the most opportune moment to approach a stranger.”

  “Which ended in”—Ry made a gesture of a plane spinning and crashing—“wrrrrrrrrrrr boom!”

  Tikron kicked Ry’s shin, hard.

  “Hey! What the hell? Mom, Tikron is kicking me,” Ry complained. He then turned to Tikron and glared. “I should turn you into a big pile of shit since you’re acting like one.”

  “Do it. I’d love to witness what Mom will turn you into after you wreck this wonderful meal by stinking up the place and ruining everyone’s appetite.”

  Ry cut a panicked glance at Eugenia.

  “I could do it. Now stop teasing Tikron. And you”—she pointed a warning finger at Tikron—“behave. We have more important things to discuss than the effectiveness of your come-on lines.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ry and Tikron said in unison. Ry had the good sense to look guilty before going back to eating.

  “As I was saying before Ry so rudely interrupted.” He shot Ry a disapproving look before turning his attention back to his mom. “I met this guy name Richard. He’s not my typical type, but I was drawn to him. I can’t explain it, but…. Doesn’t matter. What does matter is I took Ry’s advice, used a little magic on the guy, and it went very well.”

  “You told me he doesn’t believe in magic,” Ry pointed out. “What spell did you use?”

  “Hold that thought,” Mom said. “I’m confused. If this Richard person isn’t your type, why is it important that you make him believe in magic?”

  “Because I think he might be the one.”

  “The one?”

  Tikron nodded. “Yeah. Like I said, I can’t explain it, but my gut is telling me Richard is the one who can break the curse.”

  Mom’s eyes lit up. “You’ve always had very good instincts when it comes to people. The real question is, are you willing to lower that wall y
ou’ve built up around your heart and give him a chance?”

  Mom knew him too well. It really was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it. “I’m going to try,” he said with sincere honesty.

  Mom reached over and patted his arm. “That’s all we can do, son. Try.”

  Tikron wasn’t the only one who had suffered paralyzing heartbreak. While the coven boasted immortality, that wasn’t altogether true. The members could die. Tikron didn’t know the specifics; he wasn’t allowed to. It was something only the elders were privy to. However, Tikron did know it had something to do with an ancient spell, one Mysdus was the keeper of for the Feara Luirg clan. Yet the spell wasn’t absolute. Death could and had knocked on the door of those within its protection.

  It hadn’t happened in a very, very long time. Thaddeus, Tikron’s father, was one of those unfortunates. He’d died at the hands of witch hunters when Tikron was a young boy. The same group that had given Tikron his facial disfigurement when he went after them as a cocky man of twenty. It had been worth it. He’d destroyed them all.

  After the death of her husband, Eugenia had tried several times to give her heart away, but so far she hadn’t met anyone who stole her breath the way Thaddeus had done. However, she kept trying. Maybe one day she would find him. She had hope. For the first time in a long time, Tikron thought he might too.

  “I want to hear more about my great plan,” Ry said, cutting the silence that threatened. “What kind of wonderful spell did you dazzle Mr. Geek with?”

  Tikron’s memories were suddenly replaced with the image of Richard’s slight smile, lightening his mood. “It was raining and cloudy when he left the bakery, so I created a bubble depicting a starry night and kept him dry,” Tikron announced proudly.

  “Oh, how lovely,” Mom complimented.

  “And how did Richard take this impressive display?” Ry asked flatly.

  “He was impressed, thank you very much. He called it budadinny-stitre, poly poly butt or something like that.”