Magic's Divide

by Serena Lindahl

  Cat had forged fake papers for Jenira stating that she was a registered mage under Rennert’s protection and sponsorship. The council was keeping a close eye on her, but there wasn’t much they could do against Davin’s influence and control. Now that Jenira and Cat were privy to the techie Elite whispers, they realized just how vital Davin was to the East. The territory would fall apart without him. Both he and his father before him had spent years ensuring their position, just in case his secret was revealed.

  Jenira refused to go anywhere without her weapons and didn’t hide her scar anymore. The techie Elite looked at her like she might eat their children, but she didn’t care. She had no desire to make friends in that group. Davin’s hands slid up her thighs. Jenira noted that his magic was bouncing erratically, and she slipped a hand through his thick hair.

  “Are you worried about meeting Davenport?” she asked curiously.

  Davin snorted. “That little prick? No.”

  “Then why is your magic all up in arms?”

  He started to shrug so Jenira tightened her hand in his hair, pulling lightly on it. She forced his golden eyes up to her. “Don’t lie to me, Davin. You forget that my magic can see inside you.” She was joking, but she wouldn’t tolerate him lying to her. Her trust was fragile; it didn’t need the stress of lies or omissions.

  “If we go to the mage house to see Alec, we will encounter other mages.”

  Jenira lifted an elegant brow. “So?”

  Davin breathed in deeply, his magic rubbing against hers like a purring kitten. “You said your magic reacts to other magic,” he began, but he didn’t get a chance to finish. Jenira threw her head back and laughed; the sound echoed around the large office. Sliding off his desk into his lap, she smiled.

  “Are you worried my magic is going to find someone else to play with, Davin?” When he didn’t respond, she knew she had hit the nail on the head. She forced his gaze to meet hers. “You might not be able to see it as well as I can because that’s not your talent, but my magic is yours, Davin. I don’t think there’s a single spark of it that doesn’t turn into a bitch in heat whenever I’m in your presence. No country mage is going to change its, or my, mind.”

  Davin regained his arrogance as his hands wandered over her ass and up to her breasts. She shuddered when his thumbs rubbed her nipples. When he pinched one, she drew in a sharp breath. “A bitch in heat, huh?” he asked, his eyes dark with lust. Smiling, he lifted her in his arms and draped her over his desk, her ass in the air. He bit the side of her neck as he slid her pants down and undid his zipper. “Just remember, Jenira,” he growled darkly as he thrust into her, “if your magic decides to pant after someone else, you will no longer get this.”

  With his cock deep inside her, Jenira’s magic cried out lustily. Davin’s power stroked her breasts, and Jenira rolled her eyes toward the desk. He was right; she didn’t want to lose this. She used her magic to caress his balls and bite his nipples with each powerful thrust. She wouldn’t be the only disappointed one if his magic, or tech, decided to look elsewhere either.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Eden

  Consciousness crept slowly upon Eden. She was grateful for the ease because she needed time to accept the differences in the way she processed her surroundings. First, she noticed that her bed was more comfortable than it had ever been, and that reminded her she was no longer in her little studio apartment. She was hiding from a possible mage killer, and she was a mage. She took a deep breath, her eyes still firmly closed. Yes, she reminded herself, she had magic.

  Once the alien thought had settled deep within her, she focused on her body. The horrible pain had left only a lingering soreness. Her head was still achy, but it wasn’t any worse than a hangover. Her hip hurt from the seam of her jeans digging into her while she slept. She never slept in her clothes, but she hadn’t exactly been in the position to take them off last night. She hadn’t wanted Alec or Alena helping her out of her clothes, at least not when she was half unconscious; she’d rather be awake if that happened. The blankets smelled of citrus, and Eden wondered whether Bette used orange scented laundry soap.

  She carefully transferred her awareness beyond her body, sensing other lifeforms in the room. Some part of her brain might have heard heartbeats or breaths, but the most telling sign was a subtle glow where Zar and Gideon might be. She recognized Gideon’s form immediately. His presence felt as familiar as hers and appeared in her mind as a soft yellow glow. Zar was a dark spot - not malevolent, just shadowed.

  She catalogued the animals’ presences and moved beyond her room. Three spots glowed on the floor directly above her; she guessed they were the younger girls. Their energy was muted and erratic. Alena was a beacon, her magic more luminous than the rest and colored a bright green — the same shade as her eyes. Alec appeared as a shadowed area in the same place as Alena, evident but not bright like the mages. She frowned as she realized what their proximity meant. Alec and Alena slept together; both of them were off limits. Disappointment filled her, but she pushed it away. She had more important concerns.

  Mac was surprisingly bright, but she could feel the woman’s pain even from this distance. Charity and Elliott were more stable than the younger girls, but not half as bright as Alena and Mac. Nothing felt like Bette to her, and she supposed the older woman was too powerful for her to sense. She extended her awareness beyond the house, but aside from the wards settled over the land, she couldn’t decipher much more.

  Eden opened her eyes. She was pleased with her first attempts at using her magic, if she was really using it. She didn’t know enough to guess what using magic entailed. Gideon perched on the dresser, his eyes glowing in the early dawn light. He watched her patiently, letting her acquaint herself with her new form and abilities. She stretched experimentally. Her body wasn’t different; it just felt different. She felt fuller or more substantial. Descriptions were inadequate to describe the energy that filled her compared to the hollow shell her body used to be.

  “It’s weird, isn’t it? Having magic?” she whispered. She didn’t know why she was whispering. It was just past dawn if she was correctly interpreting the pale light filtering through the sheer curtains. Gideon ruffled his feathers. She couldn’t see Zar from her prone position, but she felt him move to check on her.

  I wouldn’t know. I’ve always had magic. I wouldn’t know what it feels like without it, the owl replied. Eden stretched again and sat slowly, testing out her muscles and movements carefully. The lingering headache retreated, and she decided she felt excellent despite the residual soreness. She felt whole, which was ironic considering she was still missing a limb. For the first time in memory, she didn’t feel like something crucial to her entire being was missing. She smiled. It felt wonderful.

  She kicked her legs over the side of the bed and Zar cocked his head toward her. She shook her head at him. “I feel fine. Don’t wake Alena just yet.” He settled his head back onto his paws, and Eden felt satisfied he had understood her. Unfortunately, the thought brought a vivid image of Alec and Alena in bed together, their perfect limbs tangled together. Her happiness dimmed. The owl chirped, and she glanced in his direction.

  Humans are so concerned with what everyone else is doing. What does it matter if they share the same nest? Eden flushed. Although she wasn’t uncomfortable with Gideon knowing her thoughts, she wasn't prepared to discuss her insecurities with a bird. She didn’t answer him as she slipped into the bathroom. Her hair was a tangled mess. The braid Izzy had created yesterday was loosening. She debated unraveling it completely, but her hair was troublesome when it was unbound. Something looked different. She leaned closer, studying her familiar features. Her plain brown eyes were now highlighted with gold. She couldn’t decide whether she liked the change.

  The smell of coffee completely derailed her chain of thought. She inhaled deeply, wondering if it was real coffee. “I’m going downstairs,” Eden told Gideon and Zar. Zar hopped up, ready to follow her, and Gideon cocke
d his head.

  I’ll meet you downstairs. I don’t want you carrying my weight in case you’re still weak. Then, he disappeared. Evidently, her familiar could teleport. She wondered if the ability extended to her; that would be a useful skill. She was still thinking about what else her magic could do as she tiptoed barefoot down the hall and stairs. Eden wasn’t sure why the house made her feel like she had to tiptoe. It was like being in the presence of a king, and not wanting to attract his attention. She cocked her head, much like the owl. Almost everyone was sleeping, although a few of the others were now moving around.

  The dining room where they’d shared their meals was empty of people. Gideon waited for her, perched on the back of one of the stout wooden chairs. A steaming pot of coffee, mugs, cream, and sugar sat in the middle of the table, though the cook was absent. She sighed in contentment as she filled a cup.

  Beyond the back door was a small porch with a swing. Smiling to herself, she put the coffee down so she could open the inside door. Quickly grabbing her coffee again, she kicked the screen door open with her foot and sat down on the swing. The morning was chilly enough to cause a shiver, but it was a beautiful start to the day. The sun rose over the back of the property, which was ringed with trees. Birds chirped all around them. The morning smelled of wet grass and clean air.

  A smaller building occupied the backyard. Eden sensed two smudges of gray, like Alec but weaker, and a mage whose energy seemed old and wilted. They were all sleeping, and she made a sound of interest. She hadn’t known anyone else occupied the grounds. Gideon abruptly appeared on the railing next to her, and Eden jumped. She frowned as her coffee splashed onto the wooden floor.

  “That is very disturbing.” He looked at her, tilted his head forward, and extended his wings, displaying an impressive wingspan and several rows of white feathers. “Can I do that, too?” she asked after her heartbeat settled.

  Teleport? Mages refer to it as Phasing. But, no; you will not acquire this skill. It is tedious flying in these structures, so it’s necessary for me. Eden tried to hide her disappointment, but she couldn’t conceal anything from Gideon. Don’t fret. You’ll soon find that you have other valuable abilities.

  Eden frowned at his cryptic answer and pestered him further. He staunchly refused to say more, telling her it was better if she discovered her abilities on her own. She finally gave up, resolved to enjoy the morning light and the feel of the warm mug in her hand. She wondered if Bette’s magic helped the coffee stay warm.

  I’m pleased you are adapting well, Gideon remarked after a short silence. It would have made my task so much harder if you hadn’t.

  “What is your task?” Eden asked curiously.

  Watching over you, aiding you, and helping you.

  “Helping me do what?”

  You don’t have to speak aloud to communicate with me. It’s actually very redundant because I hear an echo. It didn’t escape Eden that he hadn’t answered her question, again. Some help he was. That isn’t fair, he retorted, hearing her thoughts. There will be a time for everything.

  Eden considered that. “I speak aloud because it just feels more natural for me. I imagine our silent speaking will come in handy when we are in the company of others.”

  Like now? The owl cocked his head. Eden felt it the same time he heard it or felt it; she wasn’t sure. There was a mage moving toward her. It was the energy she had attributed to Mac, and she grew excited, curious to test her knowledge. The mage walked around in the other room before the back door squeaked. The silent woman looked surprised to find Eden, suggesting that locating lifeforms wasn’t a mage talent they all shared.

  “Hello,” Eden greeted conversationally. She could smell the other woman’s indecision as she debated whether to stay or retreat. Finally, the woman pushed all the way through the door and sat down on the steps leading into the backyard. “Did I take your space?”

  Yesterday, the woman had worn a lot of dark makeup to match her black hair with its pink edges. This morning, she wasn’t wearing any makeup. Her hair was loose around her face with no pink in sight. Eden bet the color changes were due to a spell instead of a chemical. Mac wore a black t-shirt advertising an obscure, mundane rock band and torn jeans.

  “It’s ok,” the other woman said quietly. She flashed Eden a glimpse of pale grey eyes. Those stormy eyes assessed Eden’s appearance and the owl sitting very still, watching them both. “Do you feel better this morning?”

  “Actually, I feel wonderful.”

  Mac nodded, sipping her coffee.

  That one has much pain and mistrust tainting her power. Gideon remarked. Eden nodded absently. She could see it too, a dark stain across Mac’s soft, silvery magic. If glow was anything to go by, however, Mac’s magic was considerable and nearly equaled Alena’s. You’re stronger than Alena.

  Eden’s surprised gaze met the yellow eyes of the owl. Really? She asked in wonder, using the mind-speech Gideon had referred to.

  Yes, but in different ways. Eden was silent as she considered this.

  “Are you talking to your bird?” Mac asked, startling her. She’d nearly forgotten the other woman was there.

  “Yes.” Eden was a little ashamed of having a silent conversation in her presence.

  “It’s ok,” Mac said quietly, and a whiff of longing reached Eden. The ability to identify emotions was going to require an adjustment period.

  After she has healed some of her pain, her familiar will come to her, Gideon said.

  Are you sure?

  The owl ruffled his feathers in the gesture Eden associated with an offended ego. The action occurred quite often. Of course, I’m sure.

  Eden hesitated. Should I tell her?

  I don’t think it will do any harm. It might even help her heal.

  “Gideon says that you have a familiar too.” Mac’s eyes flew between the owl and her, surprise written all over her face. “He said you have to heal before you can connect with it.”

  The excitement in Mac’s stormy eyes went out like a light and her shoulders hunched. “That may take forever,” she mumbled. Yesterday, Eden might not have heard the quiet words, but today, they were clear.

  If she dies before she finds her familiar or if she never finds her familiar, it will die. Eden played with her cup as she considered whether to pass the information along. She recalled the months after her accident. She had recovered physically, but her mind had been so battered and bruised. Taking care of her depressed, alcoholic guardian had helped her heal. It had given her another purpose beyond that of her own life and body.

  “Your familiar needs you,” she said finally. “It won’t survive if you don’t heal.”

  Mac’s eyes hardened and she stared out into the yard with a look that suggested she was far away.

  Eden decided it was time to go back inside. She could feel others stirring now, and she desperately wanted to talk to Alena about her magic and getting clothes. She felt dirty, and she probably smelled, too. She put her empty cup between her half arm and chest to hold it as she grabbed the doorknob. Just before she went inside, she addressed Mac.

  “I might not be the best person to talk to, but I’m here if you need me.” The woman made no indication that she’d heard her, but Eden knew she had. She slipped into the dining room. Elliott sat at the table, a scowl on his face. He smelled irritated. He wasn’t a morning person, or he was always an ass.

  Eden debated whether to stay in the same room as him or go somewhere else when Bette bustled out of the kitchen with several platters of food. While Eden was outside, the woman had placed a stack of plates on the table along with silverware. Evidently, breakfast was a free for all and they could eat as they awoke. Why Bette carried dishes when she could just magic them into appearance confused Eden before the smell of real maple syrup and fresh fruit distracted her. Her mouth watered.

  “I’m going to gain so much weight living here,” Eden muttered.

  “How are you feeling, my dear?” Bette asked, ignoring
Eden’s comment.

  Eden smiled. “Very well, actually. I feel complete.”

  Bette smiled widely and patted her shoulder. “I knew you would pull through fine. You’re strong. And your magic? Is it working?”

  “I think so?” Eden said, but it was more of a question than a statement. She wasn’t sure if she should broadcast to everyone that she knew where they were at all times and could smell their emotions. That might make others feel uncomfortable.

  Bette nodded. “Alena will get you all straightened out,” she said cryptically and bustled back to the kitchen after commanding them to eat. Eden didn’t need to be told twice. She had a ravenous appetite despite usually not eating much in the morning. She piled waffles, orange slices, pineapple, and sausage onto her plate, ignoring Elliott and his bad mood. He glared at the tablecloth like it had personally offended him, nursing a beverage so pale it was more cream than coffee. She couldn’t help moaning as she bit into the fruit and sausage. That earned her a look from Elliott, and he added slight amusement to his irritation.

  “You grew up poor.”

  Eden nodded. “A poor dud. The factory gave us ration cards, but it wasn’t for food like this.” She refused to let his sour attitude affect her own bright mood. The sneer in his voice indicated he hadn’t grown up poor at all, and she wondered why he was here. She also sensed he would respond better if she just let him talk instead of asking questions. As she suspected, he started speaking, almost to himself.

  “I was raised in a techie household. My parents were both high-level, almost Elite. So, we were wealthy. They were sure I was just hiding my techie ability when I first tested negative. When it became clear I was not a techie, my dad started accusing my mom of sleeping around.” He laughed bitterly. “It actually redirected some of the focus from me.”

  Eden recalled the book he was reading yesterday. Could he understand it? Or was it a habit borne of growing up longing for a techie’s talents? She swallowed around the lump in her throat. No wonder Elliott was so grumpy. Maybe it was better to grow up talentless instead of being hated by your family for being something other than what they wanted.