Magic Resistant

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Magic Resistant Page 13

by Veronica Del Rosa


  “Hey man, I know you’re innocent. I couldn’t desert you. Me, that would be debatable, but you, hell no. Too damn straight-laced to even think about summoning a demon and setting it loose. You’re like my brother, the one I never wanted, but got stuck with anyway. Ouch.”

  Victor rubbed his shoulder where Jackson hit him and laughed. “Trying to drive here. Want me to crash?”

  He then muttered. “And that was such a pansy punch, felt like a girl hitting me.”

  Jackson snorted, “Whatever. I should tell Julia you said girls hit like a pansy. And I’ll laugh my ass off when she slugs you flat.”

  Victor gave a mock shudder. “How about we leave this between us? I don’t need her kicking my ass. You’d never let me live it down. And honestly she keeps a knife under her pillow? That’s a bit hardcore. Don’t piss her off before going to sleep.”

  Victor pulled into a non-existent parking spot in front of the hostel to drop Jackson off.

  “I’m getting the Enforcers involved in this nasty business with the werewolves. Won’t tell them about Gavin though, play it off as an anonymous tip. I hope they didn’t kill everyone after he escaped. If they did, though, we might still find some evidence against them.”

  He slammed his fist against the steering wheel, his deep anger at the situation finally showing through. “Damn it, we can’t have werewolves pulling this kind of shit. The only reason humans aren’t hunting them into extinction is due to the treaty. If it gets out werewolves are making prey out of humans then that treaty is null and void.” He shook his head in annoyance. “Look, you keep in touch, okay? I’ll tell you how things go on my end.”

  Jackson nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The unwavering support and faith Victor gave him was staggering. Not once had Victor given any indication he thought Jackson was guilty.

  Sylvia had been Jackson’s first stop that night, unable to find Victor. However, within hours, he’d shown up, helping them hide Jackson.

  No questions, no pleas to turn himself in, Victor merely said, “This is utter bullshit. Let’s make you disappear.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  JULIA HAD NO clue what to wear for tonight. The only clothes she had she’d purchased online and had them delivered here. All her fancy dresses were at home, a home the werewolves had broken into and violated. Had they found her workshop? Tucked away in the basement, the small room well hidden from normal intruders.

  Would they have sniffed it out? Did they even bother to check the basement when they rifled through her personal items? Thoughts of unknown persons nosing in her home and pawing at her clothes almost had her screaming. How dare they? She was a victim in all this. She didn’t ask for the kidnapping. They should respect her privacy, especially the sanctity of her home.

  Pain stung her palms. Her nails had dug into her skin, almost drawing blood. She pushed the anger aside. It clouded her thoughts. She knew better. Don’t let emotions rule. They had no place in a rational, logical Enforcer.

  Emotions also gave an edge to the other races. It was easy to smell fear, anger, hatred and a whole host of other moods. To combat this, they rigorously trained Mage Enforcers to suppress their natural reactions.

  Wait, how did she get so far off topic? Clothes and makeup. That was her main concern, not some jacksasses who broke into her home. Clothes and makeup. She directed her thoughts to the important issues.

  Sadly, she was lacking in the makeup department because honestly, who brought eye shadow when capturing a fugitive. Then again, she didn’t wear it on a regular basis anyway. Maybe next time, she ruefully thought, she’d remember to slip some into her pocket. Perhaps some lipstick too.

  She spent much of her time online, searching the local stores for a dress on such short notice. Dawn wouldn’t mind accepting a package or two for her, as long as Julia warned her ahead of time. Her vampire friend didn’t like unexpected visitors. Julia couldn’t blame her. She’d lived through the crazy times when villagers would stake, behead and burn vampires or suspected vampires.

  Keys jingled outside the room. She froze, ears straining. Caution ruling her actions, she placed the laptop on the couch. Silent, nary a rustle to betray her moves, she untangled from the blankets and disappeared into the bathroom. One finger caressed her amethyst earring, fully charged with magic arrows. If anyone other than Jackson walked through that door, they’d feel the bite of them.

  The main door opened and then closed with a faint snick. Jackson’s voice drifted through the room. “Don’t shoot. I’m unarmed.”

  “As if!” She retorted. Knowing someone could’ve tracked him and used an illusion, she peeked out of the bathroom. No ghosting appeared around him. Good. It was Jackson.

  Opening the door wide, Julia flung herself into his arms.

  “Thank goodness you’re back! I’ve had the worst time ever!” He grinned at her until she continued, “Do you know how hard it is to shop online for dresses without a second opinion? I need your help to decide between three of them.”

  “Wait. This homecoming welcome isn’t because you worried about me or missed me?” She giggled as his face fell with disappointment.

  “Of course I missed you. And I was horribly worried. Why, you could’ve found a cute pixie to run away with.” She teased him, enjoying the way his face lit up with humour.

  “A pixie? Na, they’re too tiny. Heck, you’re a little on the short side too, but I’ll overlook your flaws.”

  She raised an eyebrow, unable to stop her lips from twitching. “Jerk. I’ll cast a shrink spell on you, see how you like being short.”

  “Darling, doesn’t matter how short you make me, I’m a huge package of satisfaction.” His seriousness and sly smirk pushed her over the edge.

  Laughing, she said, “Not much of an ego on you, huh?”

  “You know it, darling.” His mouth covered hers, a proper greeting she thoroughly enjoyed.

  Her fingers danced over his upper body, a stealthy way to check him for any damage. If he had so much as a scratch, she would kick his ass. Sure, she could handle him in a dangerous job, but it didn’t mean her concerns magically disappeared. Letting it rule their relationship, though, was a different matter, one she refused to do. Stress and worry came with the territory, however she also needed to trust him. Too many co-workers and friends relationships failed due to one or both obsessing over the “what ifs”.

  Lightly swatting him on the arm, she said. “Now, stop distracting me and help me decide. It’s only a few hours ‘til I leave for Dawn’s.”

  She dragged him over to the computer to show him the final choices. The first one was a striking red strapless dress. Form-fitted at the top and a sexy flare for the skirt. It was mid-thigh with fringes that flirtatiously peeked out from the bottom. A sparkling belt just under the breasts gave it the right amount of glamour.

  The second dress was again strapless, but that’s where the similarities ended. It had a plunging V-neck with white embroidery to draw the eye. Black, gauzy material made up the skirt with the front starting short and tapering long in the back.

  The third and last dress was a deep blue. This one had one strap over the left shoulder made out of large silky-looking white flowers. It was longer than the other two, ending less than inch above the knee, and showed off an impressive amount of cleavage.

  After looking over the three dresses, Jackson turned to Julia. His mulish expression and crossed arms didn’t bode well.

  “Why so much cleavage? Thought you were going as a bodyguard mage? And this one,” he pointed to the black dress, “is too damn sexy for a bodyguard. The men would trip over themselves trying to get to you. No way, not the black one.”

  “You’re right. The black one is perfect!” She gave him a quick kiss, leaned over and clicked the buy option. She’d already entered Dawn’s address along with the prepaid credit card information for all three dresses, same day delivery also checked off. Located downtown Toronto, the boutique for the dresses would live up to its prom
ise of immediate delivery.

  The toughest decision was choosing the right one. She glanced at Jackson and grinned at his stunned expression.

  “See, it’s like this, sweetie. You think I’d look way too hot in this dress and that’s exactly what I need. I’m kinda cute. No, no arguments.” She stopped him when he would have protested. “You’re biased. You perceive me differently. I’ve always been the cute one. Not stunning, not gorgeous and certainly not sexy. When I’m described, that’s what they say. Cute. So, what better way to hide than to look smoking hot? Dawn can do my hair and makeup.”

  She stopped talking, her mind going over all the items she’d need to take with her. Her earrings would pass inspection by security. No one would think to check them for spells. It was a shame her belt with her spell components clashed with the dress, which meant nowhere to carry her knife or blasting rod.

  “Damn. I need to figure out which spell components to bring. I can’t take them all.” A clutch solved the issue of where to store her components with each one in a separate plastic bag. No muss, no fuss.

  “Well, it shouldn’t be that hard, just bring the ones you commonly use. I carry a handful items around for my spells. You can’t have that much, can you?” Jackson responded, a teasing glint in his eye, his displeasure over the dress forgotten.

  Trying to find a spell component she didn't have had become a challenge to Jackson. He simply didn't understand how deeply ingrained her obsession was.

  To his amazement, she did indeed carry garlic powder, thyme, bat hair, diamond dust (which was difficult and expensive to acquire!), phial of holy water, eagle feather and many other rare items. Her hindrance in casting magic meant learning new ways to succeed. She’d found components helped to focus her energy. End result, she never left home without them.

  “Spider legs?” He asked, expecting her to avoid them. As if she’d give up useful spells like wall crawling and sticky webs due to a dislike. He had a lot to learn about her stubbornness and compulsive tendencies. Poor guy.

  “Really? Spider legs?” She made a face at him, playing it up. “Nasty, gross, little creatures.”

  He laughed outright.

  “You’re such a jerk.” Whirling away from him, she flounced over to her mage belt.

  “Do you want spider, tarantula or daddy long-legs?” She adroitly asked as she pulled out three separate bags from one of the pouches. A smug grin as she dangled them knowing she'd won this round.

  He gaped at her. “Honestly?! You carry spider legs in your never-ending bag? Unbelievable.”

  Sticking out her tongue at him, she then snickered. “Some like to collect crystal figurines. I like to collect spell components. Just a bit obsessive over it. Soon as I find one I don’t have, I hunt it down ‘til it’s mine. Something you’ll have to live with. Like I have to live with your coffee addiction.”

  “Hey, that’s not an addiction, that’s pure pleasure. And speaking of pure pleasure...” Sauntering over to her, he leaned down and gave her a slow, lingering kiss. Eyes fluttering shut, she lost herself to him. Her world narrowed to the feel of his lips, the heat of his body and the impatient caress of his hands on her back. Naked is how she wanted him, wonderfully, deliciously naked. His body hers to explore.

  She’d been greedy with all the pleasure he’d selflessly given her. It was time to return the favour. Undoing the button on his pants, she gave him a wicked, sinful grin.

  Chapter Fifteen

  LYING IN BED together, Julia shivered as Jackson’s finger traced the shell of her ear. He skimmed across her earrings. Snuggling into his chest, she dropped a tender kiss onto his nipple. Contentment flooded her and she rubbed her cheek against his skin.

  Jackson’s next words destroyed her serenity. “How many are imbued?”

  She barely stopped from tensing, her mind racing. Why’d he have to remember? Her life would’ve been easier if he’d forgotten about her earrings. How could she explain without spilling all her dirty sins?

  More important, would he keep her ability under wraps? Would he understand why he needed to? If the Enforcer society knew she could imbue items, they would all want something done. A hard task, it took a lot out of her.

  Each one took twenty days to create and she could do two of them at a time. Once, only once, she tried imbuing three of them. Keeper had advised her against it, told her she’d regret it.

  Stubbornly, she went ahead and did it, determined to prove her worth. Ah, the folly of youth. Four days gone in the blink of an eye. One minute she was chanting, the next, she woke up in Keeper’s guest room. He hadn’t ranted, hadn’t berated her, just said, “And that’s why you do two at a time, no more.”

  Missing several days of school, he’d covered for her, said she had a family emergency. Hard to call in sick when magic could fix almost any ailment.

  Keeper had explained the amount of energy required for three or more was too draining on a mage. Until her energy replenished, she’d remain in a coma. She’d been lucky only four days had passed. The worst he’d heard of was almost a year. It all depended on the spell and amount of energy it took.

  Once, she’d asked Keeper why he didn’t teach others this dying art before it disappeared, lost to the twilight of time. Despondent, he'd replied, “The mages took away the ability long ago. I can’t teach it to anyone else.”

  He never explained what he meant. No matter how much she pestered him, he wouldn’t go into further detail. After a while, she stopped asking.

  Sighing, she said “What I tell you cannot leave this room, ever. I mean it.”

  Leveraging herself on her elbow, her eyes bore into his. He had to know she was serious. This was more important than he could ever imagine. Her death was almost a sure thing if the Mage Coterie investigated imbuing. It’d be an easy step for them to find out her genetic defect. Soon after, execution.

  Beheading, such a horrible way to die.

  Warm, sticky blood dripped down her cheeks like macabre tears mingling with her own salty ones. Seconds was all it took for her friend’s life to end. Seconds to snuff out a vibrant, joyful life. Julia dropped to her knees, unwilling to believe Irene was dead, gone for eternity.

  Startled by the change in her, his light-heartedness faded. He too became serious, the smile disappearing. The weight of untold horrors and years of experience in the Enforcers settled on him. No longer did he appear blithe and carefree.

  “If it’s that important to you then yes, I won’t tell anyone else. I swear it.”

  She relaxed, knowing he wouldn’t swear to something unless he meant it. Integrity was extremely important to mages.

  “They’re all imbued, all twelve of them.” She almost fell off the bed when Jackson swiftly sat up, stunned.

  “What?! All of them?! How in the nine hells? That’s not possible! I haven’t run into a single imbued item, ever, not a one and I’ve been all over this world. And you have twelve of them?” Jackson rubbed his hands through his hair, trying to grasp what she was telling him. Random strands stuck up and she almost giggled. He could easily rock the punk look.

  While she distracted herself with his adorably messy hair, he was thinking over the implications. Tempted as she was to divert him, curiosity kept her quiet. Would he figure it out?

  A few moments passed before he spoke again. “You did them, didn’t you? You can imbue items. How? Can you teach me?”

  He grasped her hands, a silent plea. He seemed unaware of his movements which broke her heart. She didn’t want to deny him, such endearing eagerness. The intelligence shining in his eyes squeezed at her. He’d be an apt, studious pupil, willing to put in the hard hours to learn. For once, the temptation to break a promise, ignore a sworn oath ate at her. However, not even for Jackson would she tarnish her word.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but I can’t.” She whispered sadly. This would be their first fight and it was all her fault.

  At first he didn’t get it. He thought she meant either he wouldn’t compre
hend the steps or she was hesitant over her teaching skills. Finally, she bluntly crushed his dreams and hoped he understood.

  “I will never teach you how. I’m not allowed. One of the conditions of learning, I can never, ever teach this to anyone else. The second, no one would know who taught me. The third, I wouldn’t tell anyone I did the imbuing, although since you guessed, I’m not at fault.” She watched as he struggled with his anger and disappointment at not learning.

  He let out a frustrated sigh, fell back onto his pillow and flung an arm over his eyes, shutting her out. Acid churned in her stomach as she worried over his reaction. As she suspected, he wasn’t pleased with her denying him. Learning to imbue would be a huge accomplishment, especially since so few had the skill. Well, according to common knowledge, no one did anymore.

  Her first loyalty, though, remained with Keeper. He watched over her, kept her safe, trained her in secrecy and understood her in ways no one else ever could. She curled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

  “I should leave, find somewhere else to stay.”

  Jackson again resembled a jack-in-the-box, sitting up so swiftly they almost banged heads.

  “Leave? Why? I don’t want you going anywhere. Yeah, I’m kinda pissed you can’t teach me, but I’m not a child. I know what a promise means to us and I won’t ask you to break one. Does Markus know?” When she shook her head, he appeared oddly happy about that.

  “Wait, did you think Markus and I? Eew, no. Friends only. He’s like my dad. There’s just no way...” She shuddered at the thought and then swatted him on the hip for even thinking it.

  “So what can you tell me about the earrings? Can you tell me what they each do? How many casts do you have? Is it difficult to imbue them? Why earrings?”

  He stopped asking questions when she covered his mouth. Instead he licked her palm, his eyes crinkled with laughter. She squealed and removed her hand.

 

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