Double-Sided Witch (Covencraft Book 3)

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Double-Sided Witch (Covencraft Book 3) Page 25

by Margarita Gakis


  “Yeah, I would appreciate that.” She struggled getting the words out, feeling a little embarrassed at needing the help.

  As if he read her thoughts, Paris leaned forward, his eyes bright blue and earnest. “It’s not easy asking for help when you need it. Smart people are able to push past how they feel about it and ask anyway.” He gave her hand a squeeze and she thought she might be blushing. Her face was hot and she felt nervous. “I should probably go to my place and pick up a few things. Are you okay to stay here by yourself for a short while? I could call Callie or Henri to come over. Or if you prefer, I’m sure Callie could pick up the things I need and I can stay.”

  “No, I’m okay now. It’s light outside and I’m not planning on sleeping, so…” she shrugged.

  “All right, I’ll be back in an hour or so. I’m also going to email the Coven and tell them you’re on a bit of a leave. And that I might be as well.”

  “Jesus, don’t word it that way or people will think I’ve seduced you into leaving the Coven. That’s all I need - they’ll make me a scarlet letter to wear across my chest.”

  “I’m sure I can find a tolerable way to phrase it,” Paris said, pulling his hand away and standing up. Jade’s skin felt cold and clammy where his hand had been. “But if not, red is a charming color on you.”

  #

  With Paris gone, Jade decided to busy herself by putting away more of her things. She’d set up the coffee pot when she’d arrived and unpacked her clothes, but everything else needed putting away. She was just finishing off her coffee, when the back of her neck itched. She groaned and looked directly at the pantry.

  She could feel Seth coming.

  Just as he appeared in the pantry, his eyes glittering and his teeth pristinely white and smiling, she murmured a quick wind spell. The door to the pantry shut in his face.

  “I’m sure that was a mistake, Possum. I won’t hold it against you.”

  “Go away,” she yelled, getting up and putting her mug and plate in the dishwasher. She heard the loud thump of Bruce jumping off something upstairs and then the telltale sound of him scampering down the stairs. He showed up in the kitchen just as the handle of the pantry door was turning. Seth pushed it open and Bruce ran up to the doorway, spitting at him, Elizabethan lizard collar raised.

  “Lovely to see you as well, Possum. And of course your horrid little lizard thing. And you’re awake this time!”

  Jade frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh! Didn’t your English boyfriend tell you? I felt some magic in your vicinity the other night and I popped by to see what all the fuss was about, but you were in the arms of Morpheus. Or perhaps Phobetor, he of nightmares. Tell me, which one was it?”

  Seth had visited her? While she’d been asleep? Jade had thought she’d gotten used to being afraid of him, but knowing he’d seen her while she’d been asleep hit her freak-out-o-meter hard, burying the needle. But, if what he was saying could be trusted, Paris had been there.

  So, Jade hadn’t been totally vulnerable.

  “What do you want?”

  Seth shrugged one shoulder. “I told you. Wibbly-wobbly demon magic about. I like to keep tabs on it. And on you.” He leaned forward, still trapped within the confines of her pantry, but as close as he could get to the barrier. He studied her, his dark eyes flashing gold for a moment. “Do you know, in some mythologies a person’s doppelgänger is a harbinger of bad luck? Some even say it could mean death.”

  Jade’s throat felt tight and she wished she had waited to eat her toast. What was Seth implying? Would Lily’s return mean death for Jade? Would Jade have to go ‘away’ like Lily had gone away?

  “So serious! Look at your face! I don’t mean to scare you so, Possum. Just making conversation. I’m very proud of you, you know. You’re holding up quite well given that you’re being pushed and pulled at like taffy.”

  Bruce spat three times at the ground again and then looked at Seth with a challenging expression on his face.

  Jade crossed her arms over her chest. “Who’s doing all the pushing and pulling, Seth? You know, don’t you?”

  Seth tapped a finger against his temple. “I do, I do. But it’s always tricky for demons you know. We’ve a lot of rules to abide by. Why do you think your legal system and lawmaking is so horrid? All based on demon rules and regulations. We were the first to go about making laws, statutes and edicts. Demons without rules are just a recipe for chaos.” He sighed. “Ah, the good old days. But now,” he rolled his eyes, “ugh, the paperwork, the red-tape. If I tell you too much, do you know how many forms I have to fill out? Preposterous. And not nearly as fun as dismembering souls or watching people suffer. Torture for us is a trip to City Hall.” Seth shuddered.

  “So if you tell me who is behind this, that breaks a rule.”

  This time, Seth tapped his finger on his nose in a ‘you got it’ gesture.

  Jade frowned, her memory percolating. “But the last time you said you couldn’t tell me something, it was about Matthew, and you couldn’t tell me because he’d made a deal with another demon.”

  Seth’s eyes lit up and he placed his hands in front of him, as though he were an angel in prayer. He smiled at her and then raised his eyebrows, his face saying, ‘go on.’

  “You couldn’t tell me about Matthew because you can’t tell me about other demon deals, other than your own.”

  Seth clapped the tips of his fingers together in tiny applause. “Very close, just one more bit.”

  “So whoever is pushing and pulling at me,” Jade said, “has a deal with another demon and it involves me somehow.”

  “Bingo! Oh, you’re so good at this! I love playing games with you.” Seth smiled and Jade had to blink against the force of his personality coming through.

  “Sorry, possum. I got a little carried away there.” He drew back on his power, and Jade didn’t feel dizzy anymore.

  “Is someone trying to steal my power again?” God, what was it with this Coven? Paris had said that witches didn’t deal with demons, that it was taboo, but from Jade’s vantage point, it was pretty regular.

  Seth looked a little chagrined. “Can’t say anymore.”

  “You haven’t said anything!” Jade exclaimed.

  “Tough break, I know. What can I say? I don’t make the rules.”

  Out of sheer curiosity, she asked, “Who enforces demon rules?”

  Seth’s eyes went serious and settled on her. It was like a cold cloak had just been placed over her shoulders.

  “You don’t want to know. Suffice to say, no one breaks the rules if they can help it. No one. Well, I must be off. Don’t worry, I’ve got my eye on you - I’ll be keeping up on all your bits and pieces. I’m cheering for you, Possum. Rah-rah and all that.” He raised a hand to his lips, kissing his fingers and then made a motion like he was going to blow it her way. Out of sheer self-preservation, she spat out the wind spell again, the pantry door slamming shut a second time.

  Seth’s laughter rang in her ears long after he disappeared.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Paris came back with an overnight bag and Jade marveled at how men could pack so easily and so quickly. She didn’t consider herself high-maintenance by any means, but it did take her time to put together a suitcase or weekend bag - makeup, toiletries, clothes, electronics, chargers. But there Paris was with one very nice, not too large, leather satchel slung over his shoulder. He could probably live out of it for a week. He had a huge, ancient looking book tucked under one of his arms and Jade eyed it.

  “Let me guess, light reading?”

  His lips quirked. “No, it’s one of my mother’s grimoires. Not one of her demon ones,” he added before Jade could interrupt. “She has a spell in it for calm sleep and I thought I would cast it for you. She used to cast it for me when I was younger.”

  “Did you used to have bad dreams?” Jade asked, following Paris up the stairs. He dropped his bag off in the spare room, keeping a smaller bag from insi
de it and the spell book with him, and paused in the hallway.

  “Yes, but no more so than most children. Creatures under the bed and the like. May I?” he asked, indicating her bedroom.

  Crap. Did she leave underwear out on the floor? “Just…” she said, holding up a finger for him to wait. She darted in, looked quickly around, kicked some clothing into the closet and closed the door to the main bath, where the mirror was still cracked and broken.

  Jade opened up her bedroom door again. “Okay.” She made a sweeping gesture with her hand, letting him know it was okay for him to enter. Paris didn’t really look about, just took his little bag over to the bed and unpacked a few things from it, setting the book open to about three-quarters of the way through. It was clear the book was well-loved - the pages were dog-eared and worn, and as Paris flipped one or two, searching out the spell he wanted, the scent of sage, vanilla and mint wafted up. Paris put together a few ingredients on a scrap of fabric. Jade couldn’t be certain, but it looked like silk. It was a lovely dark grey, like slate. He was murmuring to himself as he worked and she resisted the urge to stand closer and either listen in or read over his shoulder. She knew if she asked him to teach her the spell, he would, and that kept her from hanging over him, eager to see what he was doing.

  Paris tied the little satchel together, saying more words that Jade couldn’t make out and then he shook the little sack a bit at each of the four corners of her bed, before tucking it under her pillow.

  “Was that Voudon?” she asked, reminded of the little sachet Paris had in his coat.

  “Yes and no. It’s a charm bag, which likely has it’s roots in Voudon, but the actual making of this particular charm bag wasn’t Voudon in nature. Just an older spell my mother knew. You just have to keep it under your pillow. If it doesn’t work, we can try another combination.”

  Jade nodded and then came to the awkward-inducing realization that she was standing in her bedroom with Paris. It shouldn’t have been suddenly weird, but it was and she froze, not wanting to look at the bed, but feeling like it was a magnet for her eyes.

  A scratching sound caught her attention, breaking her immobility. “Bruce!” Jade hissed, bending over and sticking her face under the bed. “What has gotten into you, bud?”

  Bruce glared at her once and then scratched at the hardwood again.

  “Stop that! We discussed this!”

  “What’s he doing?” asked Paris.

  “I don’t know. Digging to China. He’s scratching at the floor. Bruce! Come on, bud.”

  Bruce slunk out from under the bed, looking mulish.

  “He may be more agitated than usual because you’re highly stressed,” Paris said.

  Jade’s shoulders slumped. Now she felt like a jerk. “Sorry, Bruce. My bad,” she said, patting him on the head.

  He tipped his neck back and showed her his scaly patch again. It was weeping a clear yellow-tinged fluid.

  “Oh, buddy,” Jade said quietly, taking a tissue off her nightstand and patting gently at it. Bruce’s tongue came out and touched her once on the wrist while she carefully cleaned him up. “Do you want some more cream on it?” she asked and he shook himself like a dog, Elizabethan collar flapping wildly. “Is that a yes or a no?” she wondered aloud.

  “Why don’t we go downstairs and I’ll flip through my mother’s grimoire and see if I can find a poultice for him?”

  Jade nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

  Bruce loped out the door and Paris followed him, leaving Jade to bring up the end of their little trio. Once downstairs, Paris starting flipping through his mother’s grimoire, while Jade decided to tackle unpacking some boxes. She only had a few books, having switched to an e-reader a while ago, but the books she did have, she liked to have out. She eyeballed the two boxes, trying to decide if she should keep to her former organizational set up (fiction by author and then non-fiction by subject) or if she should switch it up (fiction by genre, then author, and then non-fiction, still by author). The problem was always the genre-bending books.

  Feeling eyes on her, Jade looked up and caught Paris watching her.

  “Problem? You’ve shelved the same set of books three times.”

  “I just… don’t know how I want them.” She could always throw caution to the wind and sort by color. She sighed. She was too tired to make this kind of decision. She would just shelve them for now and think about it later. Decision made, she placed her stacks of books on the shelves.

  “Problem solved?” Paris asked.

  “Meh. Problem deferred.”

  Bruce sauntered over to the fireplace, kicked at the grate once and then gave Paris a pointed look.

  “Message received, Master Bruce.” Paris lips curled in a smile as he spoke a few words and a fire sprung up in the fireplace. Bruce fell over onto his side and then worm-wiggled his belly closer.

  “You’re going to burn yourself,” Jade called from over by her books.

  “Pffffft.” Bruce smacked his lips and closed his eyes.

  Paris did end up finding a poultice that he thought would work for Bruce and they moved into the kitchen, hunting for the right ingredients. Happy that she had them all, Jade listened attentively as Paris showed her the routine of making a poultice. It was like witchcraft and cooking mashed together and while she found it interesting, it wasn’t as shiny and fun as demon magic.

  Plus, it kind of stunk. Literally stunk.

  Jade wrinkled her nose as she wrapped the poultice paste three times in cotton. It smelled moldy and wet - like moss or the forest gone bad which was weird because they hadn’t used a lot of outdoors stuff. Paris tried to explain that was the magic combining with the ingredients and once it was ready, it wouldn’t smell as foul.

  Still, it stunk. Although if it helped Bruce, it would be worth it. It had to ’settle’ or ‘steep’ over night, going through a cycle of the moon. Jade gently placed it in her fridge and then set up a little barrier of tin foil around it.

  “For the smell,” she said at Paris’ wry look.

  After that, her exhaustion caught up with her. She was ready for bed by nine.

  “Okay, I’m not much of a hostess. You know where all my stuff is. Food, coffee, I think I even have some of that tea you like. In the cupboard. Way in the back. I’m going to bed.”

  Paris looked up from his laptop. The light of the screen highlighted his face and he looked tired. Not as tired as she felt, but he didn’t look like he normally did, or should. He’d kind of had a tired look on his face ever since the whole thing with Dex and Veronica.

  “Thanks,” she said suddenly.

  He frowned. “For what?”

  “You know. Staying here. Helping out with my bag of crazy.” Jade gestured at her brain. “I’m sure you have more important things to do. Like running a Coven.”

  “Your well-being is important to me. The Coven will be fine.” He smiled. “It practically runs itself.”

  Jade laughed. “Yeah, that must be why you put in all those hours. Because it’s a well-oiled machine.” She wished she had something to do with her arms. She ended up crossing them over her chest. “Well, goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Jade. Sleep well.”

  Jade really hoped she would.

  #

  Paris watched Jade go upstairs, his eyes lingering on the staircase long after she’d disappeared and he’d heard the door to her bedroom close over. She probably didn’t shut it all the way in case Bruce wanted in later. He was still sacked out in front of the fireplace, belly soaking up the heat. He twitched when Jade went upstairs, his head moving slightly to watch, but he stayed firmly in place stretched out. When Paris finally looked away from the stairs to check back at Bruce, he was watching Paris. If a lizard could have a ‘knowing’ look, Bruce was wearing one.

  “I’m worried.”

  Bruce’s tongue flicked out, his ‘pffft’ sound familiar and comforting to Paris.

  “Exactly.”

  Paris wasn’t sure how he felt about
his discussion with Jade earlier regarding Lily. Did he think that Lily was an alternate personality? A part of Jade’s psyche, making her a very disturbed young woman? Strangely, no. He got the feeling he perhaps should. He should be asking Dr. Gellar for a psychiatric referral right now. Instead, he’d asked the doctor to keep what happened in Jade’s medlab room, when Lily had shown up, out of her medical file. Dr. Gellar was going to review the scans from Jade’s brain at the time and see what she could determine medically, but she’d agreed to wait before she put it in Jade’s file.

  There were several signs pointing to Jade’s issue being magical in nature. While Paris hadn’t necessarily made an ordered list in his mind, he did have some crucial points.

  ‘Lily,’ the other person Jade always referred to, had magic. While Paris would expect if a witch had a personality disorder that all personalities might have magic, Lily’s magic did not feel like Jade’s magic. A witch’s magic was very holistic and homogenous. Paris had never known of it to be ‘split’ or ‘divided’ into separate and distinct components. The only variation he’d ever known of had been with respect to demon magic. Jade’s demon magic was quite like her ‘regular’ or Coven magic, but Paris had read of cases where witches practicing demon magic had their power take on a taint or a sort of tarnishing. It was the only time he recalled from his magical studies that a witch’s power could be altered.

  Jade had also never mentioned any other distinct or separate individuals. Paris’ understanding of dissociative identity was rudimentary at best, but he thought he’d read somewhere that a ‘split’ or alternate personality, where there was only the true personality and one other, was quite rare. He’d have to consult a specialist to be certain, as he doubted his rigorous reading of the internet’s Wikipedia page made him an expert. However, Jade said that she and Lily shared memories and knew all about each other. Paris thought that secrecy and separation were key components of the disorder - one personality (or several) knowing parts of the abuse suffered, but not sharing with one another.

 

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