Illicit Magic (Stella Mayweather Paranormal Series #1)

by Camilla Chafer

  Kitty cocked an eyebrow. “We could just mention it’s Saturday tomorrow and we all deserve the time off.” She turned to fiddle with something on my dresser and added after a moment, “He is rather nice to look at.”

  I rolled my eyes. She could be so sly. “It’s not that. Well, it is that a bit. He is good looking. Very.” I was in danger of getting sidetracked and shrugged off the thought. “Most of all, I like what he’s teaching me. I’ve never had anyone teach me before. I’ve never been able to control anything; I still can’t make myself do what I want to do, but I’ve noticed that I haven’t caused accidents, so I am more focused. If I’m cross, I don’t accidentally hurt someone. You have no idea what a relief that is.”

  “I can guess. It’s not been easy for any of us, but most have had family around to teach us from birth the right way to use our gifts. Well, not that my family was great, but at least they had something of a clue and they did get me help when I needed it.”

  “Do you really see it as a gift?”

  “If by ‘it’ you mean the various things we can do, the telepathy, the telekinesis, the zapping and everything else, then yes, it is an absolute gift and even when it’s been tough, I wouldn’t be who I am without it, without this world of ours.”

  “You’re happy?” I didn’t know if I was asking a question or making a statement.

  “Just like any other regular girl.” Kitty gathered up the rejected tops and took the white one from me to hang on a hanger on my closet handle. “I have to go get changed too. Remember skinny jeans, cream flats. Totally cute. I’ll come back and do your hair in twenty, ‘kay?”

  “Thank you, Kitty.”

  “My pleasure.”

  I calculated that I would have enough time to shower and wash my hair in those few minutes if I hurried, and I hurry I did, scrubbing and sluicing water and shampoo through my hair until I felt squeaky clean. I towelled off and rubbed cream into my skin from the little flowered bottle that had been left in the basket by the sink. I put on new underwear and a bra without straps, seeing as the one-shouldered look would be difficult to pull off with a regular bra, and slipped on the skinny jeans Kitty had pointed out, then shimmied on her white top. The flats were at the bottom of the closet and I slipped them on as I looked at myself again in the mirror and indulged myself with a twirl.

  Who would have thought that not only was the lonely girl from London actually getting ready for a night out, but that she looked pretty damn good too? I smiled and the mirror me smiled back.

  Kitty knocked before slipping inside. She was wielding a hot hair wand and a square metal box with a handle, which she set on my dresser and popped open to reveal tubes and pots and square trays of colour. Apparently makeup was serious business for Kitty.

  “I’ll dry your hair first.” Kitty directed me to sit on the chair, which she put in front of the mirror and stood behind me with the hairdryer as she brushed and steamed my hair dry. When it was straight, she teased soft waves into it that fell around my face in an oh-so-casual way. I would have to ask her how to do stuff like that. She fiddled in her case. “You’re lucky you have great skin so we’ll just put a little shadow and a slick of mascara, the barest lip gloss, just a touch of extra colour on your cheeks. Nothing too much, just a little extra.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  “Oh, pah. You know I like doing this stuff.” Kitty waved my thanks away as she closed my eyes with her finger and swept on the shadow in neat strokes, directing me to look up so she could brush on the mascara. She deposited the wand back in the tube and laid it carefully in its place before plucking out a soft tube of pale pink gloss. “I’ll just squeeze a little on your lips then you need to rub it around, okay?” She mimicked mashing her lips together and I copied her to move the gloss around.

  “Actually, I wanted to do hair and makeup, maybe do some styling, as a job but this magic stuff took priority.” She didn’t seem too upset about her strange change of a career, if I could call it that.

  Kitty stood back to admire her handiwork. She grinned. “Well, it’s not like the canvas was a bad one to start with but you do look pretty good to me. You’re going to knock someone’s socks off tonight.”

  “I don’t think I could knock anyone’s socks off,” I replied, wondering if she meant Marc, whom I’d surprised myself by not thinking about all day. He had spent the last couple of days with his phone almost glued to his ear but never shared what he was doing. He seemed cagey when I’d asked.

  “Sure you can,” said Kitty sliding onto the bench by the dresser and checking out her own perfect makeup with a long, considered look. She twisted to face me. “You really have no idea how pretty you are, do you?”

  “I think you are the nicest person,” I grinned. “And a great confidence booster.”

  Kitty snorted. She stood and tiptoed in a circle. “Enough about you, how do I look?”

  “Sensational.” And, of course, she did. She had changed into white shorts, cut to just above the knee, with a tan leather belt and a pale brown vest. She’d swung a long gold chain round her neck and knotted it near the end. She wore white Chucks and looked the picture of preppy chic. “But we should get going.”

  “After you,” Kitty turned the handle and pulled the door towards her as I darted out. If only I’d looked first, I wouldn’t have ended up barrelling into Evan and stumbling backwards, because there was no way a body bound with muscles like his was going to give way.

  My cheeks burned as I ricocheted back into my room. “I’m sorry, I didn’t look.”

  “No damage,” he shrugged, like he barely noticed. “After you.”

  Kitty danced out behind me. I smiled apologetically at Evan as Kitty grabbed my hand and tugged me after her, not giving him an inch to pass.

  Half our little party were waiting already. Marc was leaning against the hallway, wearing his usual jeans and an open-necked shirt. Étoile was standing straight like a slightly bored, albeit very well dressed, statue. She was wearing a floor-length dress in a cotton print with a tan belt cinching it in at the waist. Seren was wearing the same dress in a different colour. Both smiled at me and rolled their eyes slightly at Kitty’s illimitable enthusiasm.

  Evan stepped down next and slipped past us to walk to the kitchen and back again, Jared and David in tow. Within minutes, the hallway was positively crowded and we shuffled out with a wave from Meg who mentioned something about going for an evening stroll. I didn’t miss the look Étoile and Seren exchanged at that.

  Kitty hooked her arm through mine. “The bar isn’t far so we’ll just walk over.”

  “Do you guys go there often?” I realised this was my first time off the property since my arrival. No wonder I was feeling antsy.

  “Now and again, when we’re in town.” She stifled a laugh and leaned in to whisper. “The locals think we’re a yoga retreat. That could be believable, but what do you think Evan does here? He’s not exactly the Rising Sun type of guy is he?”

  I snuck a glance over my shoulder and looked at Evan, deep in conversation with David. I had to agree with Kitty. I couldn’t imagine him lycra-clad, bending and stretching. Oh ... maybe I could. Hmm. I turned my face away quickly when he looked up.

  The bar, like Kitty said, wasn’t far and it took us less than twenty minutes to walk there. It was a wooden building with double doors to the front and “Rusty’s” in big painted letters on a sign over the top.

  The few patrons barely glanced in our direction as we entered the bar. Thankfully, it was still early and largely empty so we could spread out across one of the larger tables while the band tuned up on the small stage at the other side of the bar.

  There was a menu that Étoile picked up, seeming almost amused by the choice of fast food, which was basic but relatively cheap. At least, I thought it was with my limited fiscal knowledge. Seren found a waitress with a cocktail menu, which she regarded with the same curiosity as her sister before smiling at the waitress and ordering, rather unexpectedly (to m
e at least) a beer.

  The waitress stayed for the rest of us to add our orders. I was one of two to get ID’d, after it was established that Jared could stay but not drink. I was grateful I’d stuffed my driver’s licence in my pocket before we left along with some dollar bills. I’d been practising telling the notes apart, like a tourist.

  “You can’t be too careful,” the waitress said, comparing my picture to my face. She had a soft rounded face and hair straight from the eighties. “We can get fined big time and a few of those would finish us off, so I check out all you pretty young things now.”

  “I’m just glad I don’t look as worn out as my friends here,” I quipped and was rewarded with a shower of beer mats hurled from every direction. I tossed them on the table in good humour and when Evan caught my eye, he was laughing too. This catching eyes thing was starting to get far too regular. Marc, however, couldn’t have looked more sour and scowled at me. What the hell had I done to him? I turned away and lost myself in the chatter of ordering food.

  Less than an hour later, our plates pushed aside and the baskets of fries nearly devoured, second round of drinks on the table, and the band were in full swing. They played a mix of covers and a few of their own songs, which, though not well written, were played and received enthusiastically. They seemed to be pretty popular in the neighbourhood. I had drained my second wine by the time they took their encore bows in front of the rapturous little crowd and left the stage to take up a corner at the bar to receive their adulation in state.

  The jukebox kicked in with a country song that the older regulars clearly knew, judging by the sing-a-long going on in one corner.

  “Are you having fun?” Evan slid into the empty chair next to me. Christy and Clara had been on the dance floor, bouncing to the music as soon as they finished eating, leaving the seats around me free.

  “Yes, I think I am.”

  “You think or you are?”

  I thought for a moment. “I am,” I decided.

  “Good. It’s nice to be out.”

  “You don’t go out much?”

  “I’m no recluse,” Evan laughed, “I do go out but I’m a little short of time right now. So, I go out when I can. Let my hair down.” He ran a hand through his short crop to demonstrate and I smiled.

  “What do you do for down time otherwise? When you’re not out, or being busy?”

  “I read a lot. And listen to music. I have my laptop here with me so sometimes I watch DVDs in my room.”

  “What do you like reading?”

  “Mysteries mostly, a little crime or a comedy. I like stuff that makes me think or laugh.”

  “Sounds like a good combination.”

  “It is.” Evan took a sip of his beer. “What have you been doing in your down time?”

  “Actually, nothing much. I didn’t bring a lot here with me and I haven’t really found time to get a library ticket,” I joked. “So, I’ve been watching TV with the others when it’s on in the evening and sometimes I just daydream a bit when I want to be quiet. I have an MP3 player and sometimes I walk on the beach.”

  “Want to borrow a book?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “I’ll get some for you tomorrow.”

  “I would appreciate it. Funny ones though, please. There’s enough tragedy in the world without me having to read it for entertainment.” I thought this was the first time we had had a conversation that didn’t revolve around magic; perhaps he was warming to me. Interesting.

  “Consider it done.” He took another sip. “You’ve been tapping your feet the past half hour. Do you like to dance?”

  “Actually I do.”

  “Do you want to dance now?”

  I tipped my head to one side and listened to what was playing. Johnny Cash was booming out and I knew the song so I nodded and Evan surprised me by taking my hand in his own large one and leading me to the dance floor by the stage. As we got there, Cash clicked off and a slow, Iron and Wine song started up. Evan wasn’t remotely phased and though I had half a mind to go sit down again, my cheeks beet red, that would have looked silly. Besides, I liked dancing and I couldn’t object to being on a dance floor with the type of guy who made girls’ hearts melt. Wow. Talk about over thinking things.

  Evan put his hand about my waist and, though we were stiff for the first few bars, as soon as I forgot about the rest of the room and lost myself in the rhythm, I felt comfortable with him. Evan was a nice dancer. Though clearly taller than anyone in the room and muscular – I could feel his shoulders ripple under my palms as he moved – he held the beat and moved without any awkwardness. I wondered if he had always been this way or if he had once been a gangly, uncoordinated youth who had learned to be graceful.

  Heat emanated from him as the second song – another slow one – clicked on. I rested my head against his chest, purely for a moment but Evan circled his arms around me a little tighter and held me there, swaying with me in time to the music. I didn’t want to move so I left my head like that and sighed. I felt a little burst of happiness at being held by Evan and tried to swallow it down. My head swam with the thoughts I’d had the first time I met him. Oh, hell.

  “Tired?” he whispered, his breath tickling my hair.

  “No. Warm.” I wasn’t sure I could trust myself to say anything else.

  “Me too.”

  “I’m a radiator all right.”

  “I was thinking like a hot water bottle.”

  “You want to put your cold feet on me?”

  “No! I was thinking you’re kind of small and I could tuck you up and ...” Evan trailed off and I stifled a giggle. He exhaled and I could feel the reassuring thud-thud of his heart in his chest against my ear. “I don’t have cold feet,” he murmured and for a moment I wondered what he was talking about.

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “I hate to interrupt,” said Étoile from behind my back as Evan loosened his arms slightly, almost regretfully, I thought. “But we’re going to head back. Are you coming or are you going to stand here and hug?”

  “We’re dancing,” I replied.

  “You have to move to dance.” Étoile was amused. “You are hugging.”

  Evan’s arms relaxed and I stepped away from him, feeling my cheeks flush as I let my arms drop to my sides. What had gotten into us?

  “Besides,” Étoile continued in her off hand way. “The jukebox seems to be stuck on slow stuff. Marc kicked it, several times actually, but apparently that didn’t fix anything.” She raised an eyebrow and looked squarely at Evan who shrugged and faced her down.

  “I guess I’ll head back too,” I said, waving at Kitty who was lingering by the door.

  “We’ll all go,” agreed Evan following me, before sidling to the front and holding the door open for us.

  Kitty had already skipped ahead to where Marc was waiting outside, leaning against the railings, his hands thrust into his pockets. He turned and followed her without a look at me. Étoile was herding the girls and Jared like a mother hen, all feather-light until one of them strayed and she had to nip them back into order.

  I stepped off the porch after them and shivered. The evening had turned cold and the heat of the bar rushed back inside the closed doors. The jukebox had clicked over to something more up tempo and the heavy beat drifted through the doors.

  “Did you bring a jacket?” Evan asked, stepping onto the ground beside me. I rather thought he was counting heads as much as he was checking I was fine.

  I shook my head. “Didn’t think to.”

  “Here. Take mine.” Evan draped his jacket over my shoulders before I could refuse, but once it was on, I was grateful to escape the nip in the air.

  He surprised me by saying, “Tell me about London.”

  “Not much to tell. Big city, Queen, lots of people.”

  “I meant about your life there.”

  “I grew up in foster care for pretty much as long as I can remember. Mostly nice people but I wasn’t t
heirs and I wasn’t the easiest kid to look after.” I didn’t elaborate about the long string of “accidents.” I’d mentioned some to Evan already. “After I left school, I worked in a series of temp jobs. I had a little place that I rented, nothing great.”

  “You leave a lot of friends behind?” We started to amble after the others, but didn’t try and shorten the distance between.

  I paused. “No.” Hell, I hadn’t left anybody behind. I didn’t know if that was depressing or lucky. I wondered if my temp manager was wondering where I was.

  “You had to leave pretty quickly, I hear.”

  I wondered how much Evan knew, if the Bartholomews or Étoile had briefed him, but I answered his not-quite-a-question anyway, with a flick of my hand. “Étoile just swept in one night and swept me out. Pretty much in the nick of time, as they say. I was being chased. They were probably going to kill me.” I shrugged, nonchalantly I thought, like it hadn’t mattered that I was terrified at being chased by a gang of thugs who wanted to hunt me down and burn me alive at the stake.

  “You’ve had to deal with a lot of shit.”

  “Yep.”

  “I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

  “Really?” I looked up at him.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Evan draped his arm casually round my shoulder and rubbed my arm through his jacket as if it were a completely natural thing to do. I leaned into his warmth, but held my hands, slightly awkwardly, in front of me. My comfort at being so close to him was starting to make me question myself; I wondered if I was enjoying his touch a little too much. There could have been rules against this sort of thing for all I knew. “I like who I am and I like the people I’m with, for the most part, but I wouldn’t wish fear and pain on anyone. It just seems to be part of the supernatural world.”