“Shoes are essential,” her new fashion consultant declared, “and I insist they are my treat.”
Okay, if she insists. I’m pretty well tapped out.
They entered a hair salon Emma never had the courage to peek through the windows of when she walked past. The male stylist and Di had a hushed consultation in a corner where Emma couldn’t hear them. After various bowls of stuff brushed on her hair and foil wrapped around the strands, Emma caught a brief glace of a woman who looked ready to be plugged into an outlet rather than placed under a hooded light with a glass of champagne.
Shampooing came next, and then she sat patiently while the stylist studied her face and ran his fingers through her hair. One thing she’d learned today— just go with the flow. If she walked out of here looking like a Halloween party reject, she’d demand Di change her back to her old self.
After lots of snipping and mumbling, Scissors Man whirled her around to face the mirror. Who was this woman staring back at her?
When the adventure ended where it started, back at her house, Emma’s feet sang hymns of joy.
Aphrodite lined up the clothes in Emma’s closet and stepped back. “We did well, don’t you think?”
“You did well. I just followed instructions.”
The goddess rewarded her with a smile. “There is hope for you. I’m sure things will work out between you and my grandson.” She gave Emma a quick hug. “I must be off.”
Emma found the room strangely empty after the Goddess of Love departed. She studied the new face in the mirror and ran her fingers through the new hairstyle with its chunky highlights.
Great, more new things she needed to adjust to. Her pulse raced as memories of all the new discoveries crowded into her head and overwhelmed her senses.
“What next?” she whispered to the reflection staring back at her.
Chapter Twenty Seven
Emma swore as she fought to insert her key into the icy lock. “I frigging hate the cold as much as I hate heat. Typical Colorado weather. Stick around five minutes and you can get cold and hot in the same hour. Why wasn’t I smart enough to choose a perfect climate like Hawaii to live in?” Success at last. She forced the door open.
Now her fingers ached with the same intensity as her back, legs, and feet. Meet and greets were always a bitch, especially when they were at the airport. She’d love to meet the genius who had decided on marble floors for Denver International.
I’d get his ass standing beside me on a ten hour shift waiting for flights. Then let’s see him put a smile on his face to welcome grumpy business travelers while his feet scream for a massage.
“That better be you, Em.”
Surprised and delighted, Emma tossed her keys and bag on the entry table and headed toward the direction of Cori’s voice. “What are you doing home? I didn’t think you’d be back until tomorrow.”
They met in the middle of the kitchen and wrapped arms around each other in a giant hug.
“Hey, needed to come home to play domestic goddess.” Cori waved a hand around the kitchen.
Now that her nose had thawed, Emma could smell the various aromas. A whiff of cookies baking drew her toward the stove to check the timer, and a glance at the coffee brewing brought more joy to her frozen body. A hot shower, a couple of aspirin, and she’d be good to go in no time.
Well, maybe not to go, but to tell Cori about what’s happened over the past several days.
Her first impulse had been to call Cori when she and Faith went their separate ways, but while dialing the number, she remembered her roommate had a conference scheduled. Cori didn’t need the distraction of Emma’s problems on top of the event happenings, so Emma had turned her cell off and resisted the need to cry on her friend’s shoulder.
She pulled her mind back to the present and found Cori staring at her with a puzzled expression. “What? You look confused.”
“There’s something different about you.” Cori cocked her head to one side and then the other. “Your cheeks don’t have the usual funeral parlor pallor for one thing.”
“I just got home. It’s cold enough out there to put color in a corpse’s cheeks.”
“No. It’s not that kind of color. And you’re wearing eye makeup and lip gloss.”
The new attention she put into her appearance must have a drastic effect if it still showed, given her day. “Yeah, this is a step up from a smudge of foundation and mascara, right?”
“And OMG—your hair! What happened to bring on this miracle? Did you finally get over the Scottish prick and find a sane man?”
“Nothing so drastic. Just a new fashion consultant.”
“What?” Cori’s opened and closed her mouth several times before managing to blurt, “How did you connect with a fashion consultant? You’ve always said they’re a waste of money.”
“Tell you later. Off for a shower to finish my thaw out.” Emma sauntered out of the room, loving the stunned look her roommate still wore.
The hot water pounding on her back and neck did wonders to release some of the tension from Emma’s shoulders. Dressed in new jeans and a cashmere sweater, she was finally up to reliving the past few days with Cori. With any luck, her friend would let her finish her tale before she jumped in with questions.
As she entered the kitchen, a wooden spoon lifted up from the crock that held various utensils and floated across the kitchen to Cori’s waiting hand.
Emma gasped. “How did you do that?”
“Oh.” Cori jumped. “I’m practicing the family craft. Swung by to see my father and spent a day with him, and he taught a few things.” She grinned.
“Looks like the old man taught you well.” Emma pulled the wine box from the refrigerator. She needed a glass, and probably several would be on the menu before the night ended. A little alcohol helped break down her natural tendency to withdraw from the uncomfortable, and after the last martini overdose, wine worked. While she was at it, she poured one for Cori, too. Witch or not, she’d need a bracer when Emma shared her week.
The last pot in the dishwasher and the box of wine on the table between them, they settled down to catch up.
“Your convention a good one?” Emma asked.
“Yep. This one actually lived up to its billing. Think I got my money’s worth. Plus, the layover on the way back to spend time with my father was a good investment too.” Cori stretched her legs out and wiggled her toes. She’d taken to going barefoot to get in touch with nature. “What about you? How did the sorting with Bitch Sister work out?”
Here we go. I’m glad she’s sitting down. I’d hate to have to pick her up off the floor when I break the news.
Images of Cori’s reaction to what she had to share flashed in her mind, and she couldn’t stop the smile.
Cori narrowed her eyes and leaned forward. “Don’t tell me you met up with the loony Scotsman again. So help me, if you jump back into that mess, I may have to kick your ass, or at the very least put a hex on you.”
She couldn’t decide if she should be indignant or laugh. The latter won. When she managed to get control of her giggles, Emma put on a straight face. “It turns out he’s not as nuts as I thought.”
“Oh, bite me. He frigging thinks he’s a god or faerie prince, or some such crap.”
“Don’t get an attitude about other magical beings, Miss Witchy-Witch. Besides, we’ll get to that later. My trip to Charleston produced interesting results.”
“Really?” A curious look replaced Cori’s scowl.
Emma decided to dive in. “You see it turns out….”
Emotionally exhausted, Emma leaned back in her chair. Cori now knew the full story and the only interruptions had been the “holy crap” comments along the way.
“Too bad about your mother.” Cori gave Emma’s hand a sympathetic pat and squeeze. “On the bright side, good riddance to Queen Bitch. Look at the postage you’ll save on special occasion cards for her and her brats, not to mention the cost of the stupid cards.”
“So this Vinnie knew the name of your real father, and you think the private investigator can locate him?”
Emma shook her head. “I’m not sure. When I wrote out his retainer, he didn’t know if he had enough to go on to get results. There are a lot of Williamses and he may not get anywhere with the investigation.”
“Williams?” Cori’s furrowed her brow. “Is that all?”
“Lane Williams is all Vinnie had. Who knows if Lane is his first or middle name?” Emma shrugged and raised her gaze to meet Cori’s.
The shock on her friend’s face spiked Emma’s heart rate.
“Holy crap.” One of Cori’s favorite expressions rushed out in a gasp. “Holy frigging crap!” She met Emma’s eyes, and a lunatic laugh rolled out of her. “You can call off the PI and save a lot of money. I know where to find Lane Williams.”
Ian faced the wind on the rocky bluff and raised his fist in rage. “How dare you desert me when I try to understand you?”
The whispers the breeze chattered to him since he could remember were gone. True, there were times when he didn’t understand what they tried to tell him, but the hum had always been there. Now the wind talk was gone. Only a void of silence remained.
He kicked a rock and sent it toppling over the ledge, not bothering to listen for it to crash below.
When I decide to embrace my abilities, they disappear. Why? Powers, what have I done to earn this?
Once again, no answer came on the wind. He was impotent in his ability to help Emma face the trials she had ahead. His attempts to harness the wind and let it tell him what he needed to do had failed miserably.
Gone too was the ability to read the minds of those around him. When he touched someone, instead of the thoughts and confusion they internalized, there was nothing. He had become the one confused.
There were was a good side to losing his abilities a few days ago. The attention he generated from the opposite sex had dissipated. He could walk into the village and not feel like the Pied Piper because of the gaggle of women following him. And as much as he yearned to hold Emma, he didn’t walk around with the constant hard-on the thought of her had created over the past few months.
A gust of wind pushed him backward, and he looked up to see storm clouds gathering.
At least I didn’t create this storm with my emotions.
That had been a scary ability. To have his anger result in the fury of nature with the potential to destroy anything in its path wasn’t a responsibility he cherished.
Raindrops pelted his face, turning quickly into a downpour. Ian pulled his tartan tighter and started the long trek back to the castle. He’d cut through the forest, using what little protection the trees offered from the driving rain.
A bolt of lightning followed by a clap of thunder brought a branch crashing to the ground. Ian changed directions to avoid the limb, but the distress call from a deer caught his attention. At least his acute hearing was still intact.
The flailing wild-eyed animal, its back leg bent out to one side, was trapped under the heavy branch. The snorts of fear that rolled out of the poor creature intensified as Ian approached.
“It’s okay, fellow. I’m not going to hurt you.” He sent up a little prayer to the Powers that his healing ability was still intact. Given how his other abilities had fallen away, it wouldn’t surprise him to discover this was all for naught.
Now that he had a good view, he could see it was a young deer that had barely lost its spots. The animal appeared to respond to his voice, so he continued to talk. “I’ll get this tree limb off you and see what we have here. If nothing else, I’ll take you home with me and we’ll do the healing the old-fashioned mortal way.”
The little deer stopped struggling and watched Ian. The fear in the dark pools of the animal’s eyes brought forth memories of Ian’s first healing.
He’d stumbled upon the fallen deer on one of his many hikes to escape his mother’s fluttering. Shaylee vacillated between not remembering his existence and smother-love. That time had been during the latter.
Hunters had ignored the “no hunting” signs that peppered the land, and they had wounded the big buck. Weak from blood loss where the arrow entered his chest, just missing his heart, the deer had been unable to stand.
His heart had gone out to the magnificent animal and he knelt down beside him. The plea in the deer’s eyes prompted Ian to work the arrow free and then use his hands to slow the gush of blood. It had been hard to say who was more surprised at the warming light that emitted from his palms, Ian or the deer. In a matter of minutes, the wound healed over and the buck jumped to his feet. His white tail waved a thank you as he bounded off through the trees.
If only Ian still had his powers. He could heal the frail fawn that lay in front of him now. “Here goes nothing, little fellow.” Ian moved the limb to give him access to the broken leg. Kneeling, he placed his hands on the break and let his mind go to the light. When the first hints of warmth started in his fingertips, he breathed a sigh of relief. The heat intensified, and the warm healing glow covered the broken bone.
The snorts of pain died away. Where the animal’s dark eyes were wild with fear moments ago, they now seemed to express gratitude.
“At least one of my powers still works.” Maybe it was because he accepted this one so long ago that it didn’t desert him. Or was it because he couldn’t channel it to help Emma?
Or could he?
Chapter Twenty Eight
The butterflies in Emma’s stomach wouldn’t stop fluttering each time she thought of what lay ahead. She glanced over at Cori who had her eyes on the heavy Massachusetts traffic.
“Dad is going to be blown away when I show up on his doorstep with you.” Cori gave a brief shift of her eyes toward Emma, but quickly refocused on the cars in front of her.
This is too weird to be true. There is no way it can be the same Lane Williams that sired Cori. Wouldn’t I have inherited some sort of witchy ability if he were?
Memory of her failed attempts on the magic spell in Denver and again in Edinburgh to get a man made her grimace. She probably had less magical ability than anyone on earth, so no way was she the daughter of a warlock.
“We’re almost there.” Cori maneuvered the rental car around the curves of a road that ran along the coast.
When had they exited the highway? Emma had been so lost in her thoughts she didn’t notice. The current road cut back away from the shore line, and Cori made a sharp left onto a dirt road that wound toward the top of a hill. They rounded the last curve. A sprawling Cape Cod sat at the top of the bluff, with a majestic view of the sea and the town below.
“Let’s hope he’s home.” Cori shoved the car in park and hopped out, motioning for Emma to get a move on.
Reluctance on her part to face what lay ahead caused Emma to move at a slower pace than the excited blonde. By the time she reached the porch, Cori’s jig of impatience reminded her of someone in desperate need of a bathroom.
“Do you think you could drag your ass any slower?” Cori pushed the doorbell and followed with a knock.
Emma fought to tame the butterflies. “Do you think you could wait for him to get to the door before you break it down?”
“Bite me.”
Footsteps halted further comment, and for the first time, Emma noticed her friend’s nervous state. Cori chewed on her bottom lip and gulped as the door opened.
“Daughter? I can’t believe I’m being honored with another visit from you so soon.” The tall dark-haired man swung the door wider and motioned for Cori to enter. When his gaze landed on Emma, his face paled, and a puzzled frown puckered his forehead, but he only gave a jerk of his head for her to come in.
“Dad, this is my roommate. I’ve told you about Emma.”
Lane Williams smiled and turned to Emma. “I’ve heard numerous choruses of praises about Emma. In fact, I
almost feel I know you.”
Emma shifted uncomfortably and bit back the question that danced in her head. If the man was such a great warlock, how were they able to surprise him? And why did he turn the color a of sun-bleached cotton ball when he saw her?
“So, how did I do in blocking your ability to detect our arrival?” Cori grinned.
“You did well.” He returned Cori’s grin and spread his arms. “But that doesn’t get you out of a hug.”
Laughing, father and daughter fell into each other’s arms.
While the two exchanged their greeting, Emma observed the man who could be her father. His wore his full head of lustrous black hair short on the sides and back and long enough on top to flop onto his high forehead. If Lane Williams was her father, she knew where she got her height. He had to be at least six-six and still muscular, even at his age…whatever that might be. All in all, a fine specimen of a male, and she could understand why women responded to him.
Settled on the sofa facing the floor to ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of a prize piece of Atlantic shoreline, Emma decided she could stay here forever and soak in the view. The only scene that ever captured her heart more than this one was thousands of mile away in a place she’d never see again.
“Don’t keep me in suspense any longer.” Lane set a tray laden with cheese and crackers, three wine glasses, and a bottle of wine on the table in front of the sofa. “What brought about this unexpected visit?”
Emma understood the hesitant glance Cori shot in her direction, and she could only shrug and hope Cori understood. She had no idea on how to start the conversation, and since Cori knew Lane, she had to kick things off.
“Dad.” Cori stopped and squirmed in her seat for a moment. She got up and strode over to the windows and stared out as she appeared to gather her thoughts. Clearing her throat, she turned to her father who stood in front of the massive stone fireplace. “Dad, did you know an Emily Phillips?”
Beyond Magic (Magical Love Book 1) Page 22