Seth smiled. “No,” he continued, ignoring Paris’ question. “I felt demon magic working her locks from the other side and I admit, I do keep an ear, as well as several other appendages, to the ground where our dear Possum is concerned. Got a lot of potential, you know. I came to see what it was all about. I like to keep my eye on my investments. I’ve spent far too much time with her to have it all go pear-shaped.”
Seth peered past Paris to where Jade stood. She was still motionless, asleep, Paris supposed, even though part of her attention had been caught by Seth’s appearance. Paris wondered if it was simply the animal part of her brain recognizing a predator, even in her slumbering state.
Seth ‘tsk-ed’ again. “Neither a borrower nor a lender be, that’s what I always say. She’s in quite the pickle. I daresay she’ll get herself out of it soon enough if she keeps getting pushed. Or pulled.”
“I’m not pushing her,” Paris said quickly and then immediately regretted it when Seth turned his attention back to him and smiled.
“I never said you were.” Seth straightened up. “Well, it’s not nearly as much fun when she’s not here. Do tell her I stopped by. Or don’t. I’m sure I’ll be seeing her again.”
“I could ward the pantry against you.”
Seth shrugged. “You could, but it won’t be as good as her wards, and she’d probably undo it. She won’t admit it, but she likes to keep tabs on me as much as I like to keep tabs on her. I’m the devil she knows. She’s got a bit more street-savvy than you do when it comes to this sort of thing, though I’m sure you’re quite smart,” Seth said dismissively and Paris bristled. “But books aren’t everything.” He waggled his fingers at Paris before disappearing in a shimmer of shadow and light.
Paris exhaled slowly, mulling over Seth’s words as he tugged on Jade’s hand, leading her out of the room. She followed him easily and he took a moment to note the irony. He doubted she would follow him so easily if she were awake. In her current state, she was silent and pliable. He didn’t like it. At the stairs, she paused and he stood behind her, pushing once on her shoulder.
“Back to bed,” he said, keeping his voice low. He was loathe to wake her. He thought perhaps you shouldn't wake a sleepwalking person, but he couldn’t remember if that was an old wives’ tale or not. Jade climbed the stairs easily, moving up them effortlessly. When she reached the top, she stopped again, as if she wasn’t sure which way to go. He turned her shoulders slightly, directing her toward her bedroom, where he’d left the light on. As they entered the room, Bruce’s head poked out of the closet, eyes blinking at the light, jaws stretching in a yawn. He shook himself like a dog, smacking his jaw.
“Next time, you might want to keep a closer eye on her,” Paris said and then felt foolish for chastising her familiar. Bruce toddled over to Jade, sniffed her feet, and then her calf and then prodded at her leg with his snout. He exhaled a gust of air in a snort, like he was clearing his sinuses. Jade stepped toward the closet and Paris had a moment where he wondered if he should pull out all her blankets and put her to sleep in her bed, but she’d already dropped to her hands and knees, crawling back into the small space. Bruce was right behind her, nudging her hip with his snout. Without many clothes hanging on the rack, she had enough room to nestle down and make a little nest. As he watched, Jade curled herself as far into the dark corner as she could, settling all her pillows around her. Bruce squished in beside her, stretching out long, his tail curling over her legs. He looked up at Paris with a last look as if to say, ‘thanks for bringing her back,’ and then closed his eyes in dismissal. Jade’s head already rested on her pillow, her eyes closed as well.
Paris wasn’t sure how long he stood there, watching her sleep, thinking over Seth’s words. Seth had echoed exactly what Paris had been thinking - too many ‘people’ in Jade’s head. If Paris wanted to discuss this with Jade and, indeed, he felt he needed to, he knew he would have to be careful and sensitive. He may have to make some inquiries as well of specialized doctors and probably Hannah.
He felt like a failure of some sort. Not only had he failed Jade as a Coven leader, but he’d not even suspected she might be seriously mentally ill, despite the fact that she had all the traditional markers of it. Broken home, abused childhood, solitary life, difficulty making attachments. Paris supposed he was just another person in the long line of people that had failed her. He felt sad watching her curled up in the small space. As quietly as he could, he pulled the closet doors closed, shutting her in.
#
Jade woke the next morning in the closet, stiff, sore and hot. Feeling Bruce pressed up against her back, she pushed at him a bit, trying to get some wiggle room. He had his snout buried in the nape of her neck, his long body against hers. Every exhale wafted dampness into her hairline.
“Ugh, Bruce. Seriously?”
He snorted and she not-so-accidentally elbowed him in the gut. He snorted again, this time in disgust and pushed away from her, flipping onto his belly. The closet doors rattled as he did and she winced at the sound. She pushed them open and crawled out, frowning when she noticed one of her feet hurt. She squinted at it. Why the hell were her feet dirty? She looked back in the closet at Bruce, but he was already burrowing his way under the blankets to keep snoozing.
“Lazy bones,” she muttered. Jade pushed herself to her feet, trying to roll out the kinks in her neck and shoulders. Given the size of knots she could feel, she was going to need a rolling pin to work out her back or for someone to put her through one of those old-time laundry-wringing machines. Looking around, she was surprised to see it was somewhat bright in her room. Dread coiled in her stomach and she turned to look at her alarm clock.
Shit. Seven thirty. She was totally late. How had she slept so late? Why didn’t her alarm go off? Why didn’t Paris wake up? God, if she was late, he was even later. He was always at the Coven before she arrived.
The sick, rolling feeling of being late for work had her darting out of her room and into the hallway to knock on the guest room door. She’d have to wake Paris up and hustle them both out the door, she guessed. Jade could skip a shower, but maybe Paris was one of those ‘had to shower’ people. Well, she could make coffee while he showered and that would save time and guarantee she still got her caffeine. What a disaster.
Her knuckles rapped hard on the guest room door and she paused, ear pressed up against the wood, waiting to hear some sounds indicating he was up. She didn’t want to just barge in on him. He might be… disrobed. She couldn’t even use the word ‘naked’ for him. People like Paris didn’t get ’naked.’ They were ‘unpresentable’ or ‘dishabille.’ People like Jade were ‘naked’ or ‘without pants.’
Jade had to give a quick glance down to be sure that she actually wasn’t missing pants. Sometimes if it was hot, she took her pyjamas off. Thankfully, today was not one of those days and she was still moderately, if not modestly, dressed.
She knocked again on the door and still heard nothing. God, did he sleep like the dead? Maybe he did sleep standing up like a horse, like Henri and she had joked that one time. Jade closed her eyes, clapping one hand over them to be sure she wouldn’t see anything… ’disrobed’ and opened the door.
“Hey, are you up? Are you… decent? We’re late.”
Silence. She squinted open one eye and peeked through two of her fingers. She was totally unprepared to find an empty room with the bed made. There was no sign that Paris had even been there at all last night, except for the toothbrush on the counter.
What the hell?
Standing there confused for a moment, she realized she could smell the faint scent of coffee. She sniffed the air like a prairie dog to confirm. Yep. Coffee. She made her way down the stairs with what she was sure was a suspicious look on her face. She knew she was wearing a frown as she walked into the kitchen and found Paris working on her laptop. He glanced up as she came in.
“Good morning.”
Jade glanced over at the pot of coffee that was already
done brewing and at his half finished cup. He seemed in no rush to go anywhere. She’d never seen him anything but clean-shaven and it was sort of a surprise to see him with five o’clock shadow. Or seven-thirty-the-next-morning-shadow as the case may be.
“Good morning,” she said warily. “Aren’t we late?”
Paris nodded. “I’ve called us both in absent today. I’d like to talk to you. Why don’t you get a cup of coffee and have a seat?”
She slowly made her way over to the coffee pot and made herself a cup. She hesitated before coming back to the kitchen table, but realized she didn’t have anywhere else to go. If Paris had called her in ‘sick’ for work, it wasn’t like she could go to the Coven. She slid down into one of the chairs, leaning away from the table. Paris closed the laptop and turned in his chair to face her. While he still looked perfectly presentable, there was a more casual air about him than she was used to. Maybe it was his hair, slightly disarrayed, or his bare feet. Or maybe he was projecting a casual air on purpose, she didn’t know. She wished Bruce were here.
“Last night, I found you sleepwalking.”
Jade paused, in the process of taking a sip of coffee. Instead she set the mug down carefully, staring at it. Had she done something while she was asleep? Was that why Paris was all weird and ‘wanted to talk’ this morning?
“Okay.”
“Do you have a history of it?”
Jade shook her head slowly, not yet meeting his eye. “No.” She didn’t add anything more and there was a long stretch of silence in the small kitchen. Her fingers twitched slightly before she finally spoke. “What did I do?”
It was his turn to shrug and the movement was economical and almost stately on him. “You left.”
She finally flicked her eyes up to his. “Huh?”
“I found you outside, in the back yard.”
“Where was I going?”
“I’ve no idea. Do you remember anything?”
Jade looked toward the back door as she thought. She remembered bits and pieces of her dream. The lake, the Preserve. A strange presence. “I dreamt, but…”
“But what?”
She didn’t know what to say. Should she tell him about her dreams? Was it relevant? How could it not be? But telling him, telling anyone really, about her dreams would feel like taking off all her clothes in public - scary. But what if he could help? Jesus, what if after all this time, someone could help her?
“I have these dreams,” she began, wrapping her hands around her mug. She cracked her neck and tried to ignore the gooseflesh she could feel rising on her arms. “I’ve been having them since we first went to the Preserve. Since we passed by the lake.”
Jade chanced a glance at Paris. He appeared wholly invested in her, paying close attention. It didn’t feel pushy or strange - he was just ‘there’ and he was listening.
“What happens in them?”
“I’m walking, near the lake. There’s a dock. Sometimes I go out on the dock. I see my reflection a lot. In the water, or there are mirrors. Sometimes…” she paused not sure how to articulate it. “There’s someone else there, but I don’t know who. I don’t see her. I just know she’s there. I can see her in the trees.”
“Is it Lily?”
Jade shook her head. “No. Sometimes she’s there too, but it’s not her out in the trees.”
“What does the woman in the trees do?”
“She used to just be there and didn’t really do anything, but last night…” she frowned, trying to recall the images. Last night Jade had been her own reflection until she hadn’t been - then it had been Lily. There had been water, a lot of water, and someone holding Jade down. But not Lily. It wouldn’t have been Lily.
Could it?
“Last night I dreamt she held me underwater. And I went away.”
“Away where?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Just away.”
“Who is she? Do you see her face?”
She shook her head. “No. Just the shape of her. The water…” she waved one of her hands around. “It made everything wavy and weird. I couldn’t see.”
Stealing a glance at Paris, she could see him nodding thoughtfully. He took a quick sip of his own coffee and she hurriedly matched his movements, feeling better copying him, mimicking him - as though it made everything normal and sane.
“When I led you to back to bed last night, you went directly to the closet. All your bedclothes were already there. Last night you said you’ve been sleeping there a lot. That you used to do it when you were little. You and Lily.”
“Yeah.” She took a deep breath and tried to calm the pounding of her heart. She felt a little sick and shaky - an influx of adrenaline coursing through her body with no outlet.
“Who is Lily?”
Jade swallowed, feeling tears spring to her eyes. Her throat was tight. She wanted to tell him, but at the same time she didn’t. Jade knew how it sounded. It sounded like she was crazy. That she had some kind of traumatic childhood and had a disorder and maybe made up an imaginary playmate to bond with. But that wasn’t what happened. Jade couldn’t remember how it happened - she just knew she never remembered a time when she didn’t have Lily. Lily was always there, always present. When Jade tried to think if there was ever a time without Lily, there was just nothing. Darkness. And maybe sometimes the feeling of being cold. How could she say that to Paris? What made her think she could ever tell him? Tell anyone? She started to tell him last night about Lily. It seemed safer then, with Bruce pressed up against her. Now, in the brighter morning light with Bruce a whole floor away, she wasn’t sure if she should have said anything at all. Ever. Maybe it was all a big mistake. Maybe…
She felt her power slipping out a second before it happened. The window over the sink broke with a mighty crack - a spiderweb of light and glass the spread through pane. Paris’ magic settled over hers quickly, like a heavy, wet blanket. Her power bucked against it at first, but then Jade pulled it back, trying to get a hold of it.
“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to.”
“I know.” His voice was the kind used on scared dogs or children. “It’s just a window. It can be replaced.”
There were several more seconds of her just sitting there, trying to think of what to say, of how to say it, or even if she should say anything at all.
“I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t know what to say.”
“Is she you?”
“No,” Jade answered quickly. Her eyes threatened to spill over when she added, “Maybe?” God, what if she’d been wrong this whole time? What if she really was just sick and she’d been deluding herself? Don’t they always say crazy people don’t think they’re crazy? But then if she thought she could be crazy, did that mean she wasn’t?
There was a popping sound as a small fire burst up on top of the table. Paris flinched back and Jade winced.
“Sorry,” she said again. “I can put that out.” She concentrated on the power burst, but found that she couldn’t quite get a handle on it.
“It’s fine,” Paris said. “It’s not actually burning the table. Or even putting out that much heat. I think your power just needs to breathe a bit. You can let it burn, if you like.”
She stopped trying to put it out and just let it go, feeling the warmth on her face, watching the flickering orange and red flames. It was soothing to her.
A loud buzzing sound distracted her and she realized that it was coming from Paris. He frowned and reached into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone. The lines on his face deepened when he read what was on his screen.
“What?” Jade asked, warily, pulling back from the table.
“I asked Josef to keep me up to date on the Counter-Magic reports on the lake and to let me know if anything changed. He says there’s been a rush of complaints this morning.”
She curled backward in her chair. “From last night? From when I was dreaming?”
“Yes. You’ve noticed this trend?”
Paris pocketed his phone. “There’s more magic in the area than there should be.” He looked at Jade and while it wasn’t a harsh look, she still felt nervous meeting his eyes. “I think we need to go to the lake.”
The flames on the table puffed out large in a big ball, like someone had let a bunch of oxygen into the room and then sucked it back out. It surprised Jade and she jerked back in her chair before she realized she’d even done it. She’d never been afraid of her own magic before. She quickly tamped down on her power, putting the fire out totally.
Jade put her coffee down, but kept her hands wrapped around the warm ceramic. She felt like she had to work really hard to push the next words out. “I’m afraid to.”
“Why? What do you think will happen?”
I feel like something awful will happen, or something awful already happened. Jade shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yeah.” Jade wasn’t sure why that mattered. It wasn’t Paris that she didn’t trust. It was herself.
“Trust that I won’t let anything happen.”
“I don’t know if you can make that kind of promise. I don’t think it’s up to you.”
“Whom is it up to?”
Me. I think it’s me. Or Lily. Or both of us. I don’t know that anyone can stop it. She shrugged.
Paris reached a hand out toward hers, hovering slightly for a moment before he carefully set his hand on top of one of her own. She stared down at their fingers - his skin slightly darker than hers. Her fingers were white with how hard she was holding the mug. He put slight, even pressure on her hand and she slowly, so slowly, let go off the mug, her hand coming to rest on the table. He wrapped his fingers around her hand. She couldn’t remember the last time someone, anyone, had held her hand. His hand was warm, almost hot on hers. She couldn’t look up at him. It felt really intimate and she felt like if she looked at him, she’d have to pull her hand away. As long as she didn’t look at him, as long as she only looked at his hand, then she could leave her own hand there, underneath his. Not trapped. Secured.
Double-Sided Witch (Covencraft Book 3) Page 21