Magic

by Audrey Niffenegger

  “Smells good,” he said.

  Tamsin smiled. And when he told her she looked nice she thought she would faint. “Want some wine?” she just managed to ask.

  “That’d be great, thanks.”

  They sat side by side on the couch for a while, drinking from the chipped goblets Tamsin had found in a pagan shop. Every time he met her eyes she felt her stomach swoop as though she were falling from a great height. They talked about music, university, films, games, poetry, life. To Tamsin it seemed they talked for hours. She wanted to drown in his voice.

  Eventually the talk turned back to Valhalla and Tamsin told him again how awesome she thought his songs were. What he said next made her want to pinch herself.

  “I wrote a new song last night. No one’s heard it yet. It’s just me with no music and it’s really rough but...”

  “Yes,” she said before he’d finished. “I’d love to hear it!”

  He smiled shyly and lowered his head as he fished his iPod out of his pocket. Tamsin took it from him as though it were a priceless artefact and swapped it for hers in the docking station. She navigated to the track he directed her to and she sank back on the couch to listen.

  It was all Nicky. Nothing but his voice. It sounded slightly husky and out of tune but none of that mattered. The song was called ‘Blood Mirror’. And he was singing it just for her.

  His hesitant voice sang about what lay beyond the mirror, what could be seen and what couldn’t. Black mirror, velvet mirror. A reflection of dreams, of screams. Then nothing at all.

  Tamsin felt the words circling her, seeking to enter her and redefine themselves according to her needs. A mirror revealed things. Sometimes hidden things. Like feelings. But try as she might, she couldn’t make the lyrics fit. The song ended on a line about fangs and a reflection in blood and she realised that it wasn’t about her at all. It was only a song about a vampire.

  After a lengthy silence Tamsin opened her eyes.

  “You don’t like it.” He said it with such dismay that she immediately felt guilty.

  “Oh no,” she assured him, “I loved it! I was just... imagining how the video would look.”

  She smiled then, picturing Nicky in period clothes, white lace pouring from his cuffs and collar, his razor-sharp cheekbones enhanced by the shadows of the gothic castle he would be prowling as he sang. He would carry a candelabrum, dripping red wax as he leant down over a sleeping maiden (Tamsin, of course), her pale throat exposed and vulnerable.

  “Cool,” Nicky said, relaxing. “I’m glad you liked it. I just wasn’t ready to play it for the guys yet.”

  “I’m honoured to be the first,” Tamsin said and she genuinely meant it. She had recovered from her initial disappointment. It didn’t matter anyway. After tonight all his songs would be about her. “Are you hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “Good. Put on some music if you want and I’ll get the food.”

  She left him on his own while she went to the kitchen and divided the curry into two bowls. Her hands shook as she removed the plaited coil of hair from where she’d tucked it inside her bra. She’d wanted to keep it close to her skin until the very last moment. With a pair of scissors she cut through it once to break the circle and then began snipping carefully along its length, cutting as finely as she could and sprinkling the tiny bits into Nicky’s bowl. The pieces vanished into the liquid where she hoped they would be undetectable.

  She put the bowls on a serving tray with a dish of jasmine rice and carried it in to him. Her hands were shaking but she managed not to spill anything. It seemed like a good omen.

  “Here we go,” she said. “I hope you like it.”

  And she could see that he did. He closed his eyes in bliss at the first bite and made appreciative noises throughout the meal.

  She first sensed the spell was working when she caught him watching her as she refilled their wine glasses. When she looked up at him he averted his eyes and she heard his spoon scrape the bottom of his bowl. As a test she gathered her hair in her hands and piled it up on top of her head as though it were suddenly too hot to wear it down.

  Instantly Nicky’s eyes flicked back up to her and he stared openly as she twisted her hair into a loose knot, only to let it fall again. It spilled over her shoulders like molten gold. Nicky didn’t blink.

  “Still hungry?” Tamsin asked, nodding towards his empty bowl.

  He rose slowly to his feet, shaking his head. He didn’t take his eyes off her.

  SHE WOKE SEVERAL hours later in a tangle of limbs, her hair spilling coolly over her naked skin. Late afternoon light was painting the room orange and she opened her eyes to look at Nicky. He was still deeply asleep. In his bliss he looked like a dark angel.

  She tried to turn her head but found she couldn’t. Locks of her hair were wound tightly around both his hands, as though she were his lifeline. Tamsin usually plaited her hair before bed but last night she had left it loose and wild for him. Tears welled in her eyes as she replayed the night’s countless pleasures. Kisses and caresses, skin on skin, a blur of passion. Her dream come true.

  She didn’t want to leave him but nature was calling and it took some manoeuvring to finally slip out of his grasp. She took the opportunity to clean her face and brush her teeth, not wanting him to wake up and see her with panda eyes.

  How he had loved her hair! She could still see the otherworldly shine in his eyes as he gazed at it in the firelight. His fingers had stroked it reverently, combing through the glorious waves and clutching handfuls of it as he made love to her.

  “Beautiful,” he’d said, over and over. Like someone in love.

  She sighed as she gazed at the girl in the mirror. Her skin was flushed, her eyes dreamy. A girl fulfilled. Her scalp tingled pleasantly as she ran a brush through her tangled curls, each stroke hissing and popping with static. She dropped the loose hairs into the bin and stared down at them, remembering the spell she had cast. It had worked. She was a part of him now, forever.

  “Tamsin?”

  The sound of his voice made her jump and she shook herself out of her reverie. When she emerged from the bathroom she saw him standing before the window, his body silhouetted against the autumn light.

  “I’m here,” she said, curling into his embrace.

  He kissed her head and then held her face between his palms, staring at her as though unable to believe she was real. “Last night was incredible.”

  Tamsin sighed as she let the words wash over her. There couldn’t possibly be another person anywhere in the world as happy as she was at this moment.

  “I have to see you again.”

  “I’m yours,” she said, her voice catching.

  “Mine,” he whispered, sounding bewildered. He repeated it with more conviction. “Mine.” Then he clutched her tightly and pressed his lips to hers so hard it hurt.

  HE HADN’T WANTED to leave and she hadn’t wanted to let him go. But they both had classes that evening and, frankly, Tamsin needed some time to recover from his attentions. She hadn’t counted on him being such a violently passionate lover. Her insides burned with a deep dull ache and she wasn’t at all surprised to find bruises on her inner thighs. Even her face felt bruised from his kisses. At times it had felt as though he were trying to force his entire body inside her, to devour her.

  When she’d finally persuaded him to get dressed and follow her to the door, his eyes had shone with such fervour as he said goodbye that it became uncomfortable. She’d had to look away as she promised she’d see him again later that night.

  Tamsin found it difficult to concentrate. Not even her favourite professor could distract her from the strange disquiet. She was thrilled that the spell had worked and the night had been truly magical. But Nicky’s intensity was a little unnerving. There was something alien in the way he had looked at her as she’d shut the door that afternoon. After he left she’d gone to the window and was further unsettled to see him standing across the street, staring int
ently up at the building, his face a blank, pale oval. Not seeing her, but searching.

  But then she shook off her misgivings. Of course, he was bound to be acting a little weird; she’d bewitched him! She hoped he wasn’t wondering too much at his newfound feelings. It should have felt like coming home. But perhaps it would take a little time for it all to sink in. Until then she would have to be patient.

  She glanced down at her notebook and saw that she hadn’t written a single word. Professor Canning was talking animatedly about Walt Whitman but Tamsin hadn’t taken in a thing. With a sigh she closed her book, gathered her things and slipped out at the first opportunity.

  Her legs ached as though she’d overexerted herself at the gym and she grimaced as she made her way down the corridor. She pushed open the front door of the building and was dazzled for a moment by the glare of the streetlights. The nights were getting longer and the darkness only reminded her how tired she was. She’d barely had any sleep the night before; Nicky had seemed inexhaustible.

  Despite her pain and weariness Tamsin felt a smile tugging the corners of her mouth as she recalled the past few hours. She knew that Valhalla had another gig at the end of the month and she dreamily imagined Nicky coiled round the microphone, his silky voice singing words he’d written for her, about her. She knew Rob didn’t like her and the others would probably side with him in thinking she was breaking up the band. But Nicky was better than all of them put together. He could make it on his own if he had to, with Tamsin as his partner and muse.

  As she made her way home she became aware of a soft crunching behind her, the sound of someone treading through dry leaves. A chill slithered up her back as she realised she was being followed. She braced herself for a confrontation and then whirled round.

  “Hey, creep–”

  But it was only Nicky. Her surprise gave way to delight, but her smile melted as soon as she saw his face. His eyes blazed, red and bloodshot.

  “Nicky, are you OK?”

  “I love you,” he said.

  His wild expression dampened the joy she should have felt. “But why didn’t you say anything before? Why were you following me?”

  He frowned. “I love you,” he repeated, as if that explained it all.

  “I love you too.” The words came naturally to her. She’d said them hundreds of times on her own. But she said them now out of obligation and a sense of – yes, fear. There was something dangerous in his eyes, something akin to religious mania.

  He took a step towards her and she flinched at his outstretched hand. But then a look of puzzlement crossed his features and she softened. She took his hand and kissed it, trying to remind herself that this was Nicky Renwick, the boy she had loved from afar ever since starting university. The boy she had now charmed into loving her back.

  He shuddered as her lips touched his hand and he moved closer, winding his arms around her. He pressed his face into her hair and moaned softly.

  “Nicky, no,” she said, trying to disentangle herself from him. “I was just going home to try and get some sleep.”

  “We could sleep together,” he offered immediately, still stroking her hair.

  She forced a laugh. “I’m not sure we’d get much sleep.” She cast about for more excuses. “Look, I need to do some major revision anyway. Why don’t you come over tomorrow?”

  He blinked at her slowly. “Tomorrow?”

  “Yes. I’m really sorry but I’m totally knackered after last night. Hey, why don’t you try to write a new song? Then you can play it for me tomorrow night.”

  Her words seemed to be causing him physical pain. His eyes glistened with tears at the rejection, although they widened slightly at the suggestion of a song.

  “Tamsin,” he murmured, as though tasting her name. “Yes. I’ll write another song about you.”

  She heard the words in spite of her desire to get away from him. Her heart flickered with excitement even as she found the idea unsettling. Another song about her. When had he had time to write a first one?

  “This afternoon,” he said, answering her unspoken question. “While you were in your lecture. I watched you through the window.”

  The skin on the back of her neck prickled. He’d sat outside watching her, composing a song about her. And then he’d followed her. How long would he have kept it up if she hadn’t heard him and turned around?

  She forced another smile. “Nicky, that’s really sweet. And I can’t wait to hear it. But let’s wait until tomorrow, OK? I really have to do some work.”

  For a moment he looked as though he wasn’t going to accept her request. But then he nodded slowly and took a step back. “OK” was all he said.

  The silence stretched between them for an awkward minute before Tamsin finally said, “Right, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She waited for him to say something and when he didn’t, she turned and walked away. She could feel his eyes on her the whole time, burning through her. It was all she could do not to glance back. But she didn’t need to. She knew he was still watching her.

  She felt flooded with relief when she finally reached the flat. She closed the door behind her and flopped into a chair, exhausted by the strange encounter. Clearly the spell had been too strong, but was there any way to moderate it? She hadn’t imagined it would be like this. Still, she was hopeful that it would mellow.

  She was too wound up to sleep so she dropped her books on the dining table with the honest intention of trying to do some work. But it was useless. She couldn’t concentrate. The dishes from last night seemed to mock her and the candles had dripped onto the tablecloth to form a waxy bloodstain that reminded her of the hairs she had plucked. Suddenly the flat felt close and stuffy and she pushed her chair away and went to the window. She jerked the curtains open and was about to open the sash when she noticed the figure standing by the streetlight.

  Nicky was staring up at the building the way he had been earlier. Only this time he saw her. He raised one hand and waved faintly but Tamsin couldn’t bring herself to return it. She was starting to get seriously creeped out.

  She closed the curtains and edged away from the window. Maybe she should go back to the forum and see if anyone there had any ideas. She had just booted up her computer when she heard the thumping. As she made her way past the kitchen she realised with a sense of dread that she’d heard the sound before. It was the sound Nicky’s boots had made on the stairs last night. As he came up.

  Either she hadn’t closed the outer door properly or someone else had left it open. She braced herself, expecting him to knock, but all she heard was a soft scratching.

  The sound unnerved her more than any dramatic pounding could have done. Tears filled her eyes at the thought of him standing out there, too hooked on her to be able to leave her alone, reduced to scratching plaintively at her door like an abandoned puppy.

  “Nicky?” she called, trying to keep her voice steady. “Go home, OK? Please? I’ve got a lot of work to do. Why don’t you come back in the morning?”

  He was silent for a moment and then she heard a ragged sob. “Tamsin,” he said, his voice choked with tears.

  Her heart burned with shame and pity and she couldn’t bear the thought of the pain she was causing him by leaving him out there. It was her fault he was lovesick and desperate. What was that old saying about being responsible forever for someone whose life you’d saved? Surely the same applied to someone you’d bewitched.

  With a heavy heart she turned the lock and opened the door.

  He flew into her arms, burrowing his hands into her hair as he whispered fervently that he loved her, he loved her, he loved her.

  “I love you too,” she said helplessly, all the time wondering what the hell she was going to do.

  He pulled away to gaze at her face. “You’re so beautiful.”

  Last night it had thrilled her; now it made her skin crawl.

  She pushed him away gently. “I have to use the loo,” she said.

  His blank expressi
on betrayed no understanding but at least he didn’t try to force his way in after her.

  She splashed water on her face and stared at her haggard reflection. She suddenly looked ten years older. Maybe Beth or Chrissie had some sleeping tablets. She could knock him out while she figured out what to do. But a search of the medicine cabinet revealed nothing but an empty packet of birth control pills.

  With a sigh she dropped the box into the bin below the sink. Then she glanced down at it. Something wasn’t right. It took her a minute to realise what was missing. The loose hair she’d dropped into it that morning was gone. With a sinking feeling in her gut she suddenly understood what had gone wrong.

  But she didn’t have time to berate herself for her foolishness before the door crashed open and she cried out as she saw the look in Nicky’s eyes. It was the stare of a starving animal, crazed with hunger.

  “I love you,” he said softly, his eyes fixed on her hair. He took a step forwards, closing the space between them. Tamsin immediately backed away. Confusion flickered in his eyes for a second and then he moved forwards again and reached out for her before she could move.

  She shuddered as his hand settled on her hair and then he was winding it around his hand, pulling it hard.

  “Stop it!” she yelped, flailing at his hand. “Let me go!”

  He didn’t seem to hear her. He continued to wind her hair around his fist, pushing her down onto the cold tiles as he did so.

  She screamed when the hair at last tore free from her scalp. Blood poured hot and wet over her face and into her eyes, blinding her. All at once she couldn’t breathe. She struggled frantically, her hands flailing against the side of the bathtub, feeling for anything she might use as a weapon. From somewhere behind her came a terrible sound. A wet munching. Sickness rose in her throat and she crawled away, slipping in the pool of blood as she felt for the open doorway.

  She only got a few feet before she felt his hands in her hair again. The world went black with pain as he wrenched another fistful from her head.