Hot Magic

by Holli Bertram

  Black clouds covered the sky in an ominous blanket. Lightning lashed out at the ground.

  “This blew up quickly,” Joe commented, dropping his arm when she stepped away from him. “It’ll probably blow over just as fast.”

  The drum of thunder pushed against the glass with an insistent fist. Julie paused, unsettled. “‘You can’t stop a storm, but you can shut a window so it doesn’t get in the house.’”

  Joe gave her a strange look. “Is there a window open somewhere?”

  Julie shook her head. “No, that’s just something my Mom always used to say whenever it stormed.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “You know Michigan weather. Storms can pop out of nowhere.”

  Joe grinned and pushed the button for the elevator that would take them up three flights to the sixth-floor cafeteria. “That reminds me of a study I just read on the effect of weather on mental health. This study didn’t just look at amount of sunlight, but took temperature….”

  Julie nodded a couple of times, not really listening. She stared at the rolling clouds outside the windows until the elevator doors closed, blocking her view.

  Harrison stood in her office when she returned. Julie almost dropped her half-empty cup of coffee.

  “Hi.” She sounded more breathy than she wanted to. He wore black pants and a white shirt open at the neck. A casual look for him. He stared at her, cold and silent.

  “Um, should I kneel or something? Mom says you’re a pretty important guy.”

  “I only want to see you kneeling in front of me for one reason.” He didn’t even smile when he said it.

  “Funny man.” She stepped into the room and shut the door. No need to fuel office gossip. “You look angry. I take it your chat with Marguerite was not productive?”

  His facial muscles became more rigid. “Do not mention that woman’s name.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “I need to return to London and meet with the Council.”

  “Right now?” She leaned back against her door. She was more tired than she’d thought.

  He nodded. “Julie, did your mother explain bonding?”

  “No. That didn’t come up. She had a lot of other explaining to do.”

  “This is important. The Dancers and Walkers who commit to each other usually get married, just like most humans. A very few, however, choose to enter a relationship that can’t be broken, called a blood bond. It’s a powerful ceremony, twining the couple’s power together through the mixing of their blood.”

  “How romantic. Young Triad girls must dream about it.” Yuck.

  “I believe some of the sillier girls do.” He looked like he found the whole concept as distasteful as Julie did. “Bascule has determined that our power is aligned in such a way that there is a pull, an attraction, for the energy to bond.”

  Julie let out a disbelieving laugh. “Between you and me? Good one.”

  “Bascule is rarely wrong.”

  Julie shook her head. “You’re the great and powerful Balance. I’m a half-breed with no abilities. I don’t think so.”

  He gave her one of his brooding looks. “We don’t know what your abilities are yet. You are highly unusual.”

  Julie’s hands flew up in the air. “I’m a little tired of everyone inferring that I’m not normal and all this weirdness is my fault. Go away. Go to London. Have a good life. I have work to do.”

  Harrison ignored her outburst. “The Council must be informed of this.”

  “Are you also going to inform them that you want to have sex with me to break the curse or have you already consulted with them about that?”

  Harry had no expression on his face. “That plan has changed. Bascule has researched this phenomenon and has confirmed that if we have sex, we could bond without the blood ritual. I can’t take that chance.”

  “So the bottom line is you don’t want me anymore. I’m off the hook.” She didn’t know why she was acting all pissy. Bonding with him, with anyone, was nowhere on her list of things to do.

  “Balances don’t bond. They belong to the Triad.”

  “So, you’re sort of like the Triad’s version of a priest? Married to the entire Triad, not just one person?”

  “No, not at all.”

  Argh. A thought occurred to her. “If we don’t have sex, you remain under Marguerite’s curse.”

  “There is an alternate option.” A muscle in his cheek twitched. “The curse can be broken with the aid of the Council during the next new moon.” His hand went through his hair in the now-familiar gesture. “In the meantime, if this invasion by Marguerite becomes too difficult to bear, I will sleep with Dancer women of lesser power in the hopes of finding one who can break the curse.”

  “No!”

  “Excuse me?” His gaze focused on her.

  “I said ‘Oh!’” She stared down at her feet and willed herself not to stomp over to Harry. She had a strong urge to grab him and divert his attention away from other Dancers. What on earth was wrong with her?

  She looked out her window, not trusting herself to look at Harry’s face. “Did you come to say good-bye?”

  “No, I didn’t come to say good-bye.”

  The cool note in his voice didn’t bother her. She felt too relieved by his words.

  “I’ve put you in danger. Marguerite knows I intended to use you to break the spell.” Harry’s tone was brisk. “To protect you, I told her that you don’t have enough power to stop the curse.” Harry gave her a stern look. “If she discovers how powerful you are or the potential for our bond, she’ll seek to neutralize you. It’s important that you don’t use your power until after the new moon on October sixteenth, when the curse is broken.”

  His grim face convinced her that Marguerite’s idea of neutralizing her wouldn’t be pleasant.

  “I have to go to London, but I’ll be back soon. I’m leaving Linda as your guard. She’ll contact me if you need me.”

  Linda? Julie looked around, half-expecting someone to pop into the office and join them. “I don’t like this, Harry.” Julie sank into the office chair she kept pushed against one of the walls.

  “I know. You’ll handle it, though.” He surprised her by crouching down in front of her. “Before I go, I want to make one thing clear. You said that I don’t want you.” This close she could feel the tension in him, the tight control. “Make no mistake. I want you.”

  The quiet intensity of the words caused a hot shiver to spread through her, but his expression remained cool and remote. He stood, backing away. He wanted her, but he made it clear that wouldn’t guide his actions.

  “Until the danger to you is over, I will be in your life.” He paused. “My control is not what it should be in this situation.” He drew in a deep breath, and she heard the faint echo of thunder. His face was calm, but his amber gaze held a heat she could feel on her skin. “Don’t let that man touch you again.”

  Julie mentally went through the extremely short list of men who had touched her recently. Did he mean Joe? “What man?”

  Harry paused, as if considering the question. “Any man.”

  Without even a wave of his hand, he disappeared from the room. Before she could blink, a woman appeared in his place. The tall, muscular blonde, dressed in leather pants and a purple shirt, regarded her with interest.

  “So you’re the Dancer who has the Balance’s knickers in a twist.”

  Chapter Six

  Linda wasn’t so bad once you got past the purple outfit. Okay. Yes, she was. The woman paced Julie’s small office nonstop, making small grunts of disgust. Her leather squeaked and she smelled like dead cow. Her vocabulary contained more names for animal excrement than Julie would have believed existed.

  When Linda stopped in front of her desk and began leafing through some of the papers, Julie gave up on trying to work. “Linda, I appreciate your help, but I’m sure I’ll be okay. You can go home.”

  “Brilliant idea. I’ll just pop off.” She planted both hands on the black
laminated desktop and leaned forward, a disgusted look on her face. “Not. The gaffer would be cheesed off if I did a bloody stupid thing like that. He told me to protect you.”

  “Harry’s got a lot of things on his mind right now. I’m sure he’d understand that I told you to leave.”

  Linda’s mouth dropped open, but no noise came out of it. That blessed state lasted for all of ten seconds. “Have you got fewmets for brains? The Balance doesn’t get upset. He’s the Balance—get it? And he doesn’t ‘understand’ when people don’t do what he says. He just makes them do it.”

  Julie sat straighter, irritated that this woman would presume to know Harry better than she did. Then it struck her. This woman did know Harry better than she did.

  Linda was not just a voluptuous, atrociously attired Amazon. She was also a golden opportunity to find out about Harry and the Triad. Her mother might eventually cough up information, but she’d take two hours to impart two minutes of highly screened knowledge. With Linda, she could learn the real scoop. She’d need expert help to extract the information, though.

  Dorie had the boys in daycare while she went to the health club on Mondays. She might just be free for lunch.

  “From now on,” Dorie stated, as she and everyone else in Zingerman’s crowded dining area watched Linda plow her way through the tables toward the bathroom, “you’re not allowed to make new friends without first passing them by me.”

  “She’s more a friend of Harry’s.”

  “Who is some cool-headed leader of the Council—a group of people who act as judge and jury for the rest of the Triad. And you’re a powerful Sun Dancer who can wield light energy with her bare hands.”

  “Theoretically,” Julie interrupted modestly.

  “The bad guy, a Shadow Walker, is out to get you because your woo-woo can break a curse she has on Harrison.”

  “My woo-woo? Hello. Talk grown-up.”

  “Woo-woo’s a legitimate word for magical power in the paranormal circles. A fact you would know if you ever picked up a decent horror novel.”

  “Stephen King uses the term woo-woo?”

  “I don’t remember.” Dorie narrowed her eyes. “You should have told me about this sooner, but I guess you’ve been busy.”

  “What do you make of all this?” Julie asked. Dorie had a clear-sighted, practical perspective that Julie relied on. “Have I stepped down a rabbit hole?”

  “Nope. I believe it’s all true. There’s more to this world than we know.” Dorie broke a corner off the massive brownie beside Linda’s plate and popped it in her mouth. “Can you believe she ordered this brownie? There’s not a spare inch of fat on that woman. I wonder what her exercise routine is.”

  “Dorie.”

  “Sorry. I think we need to begin experimenting with your powers.”

  “How? I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “Sure you do. Didn’t Harrison tell you how in that hotel room? Something about imagining the place you want to go and then gathering power around you. That sounds simple enough.”

  “I don’t want to go anywhere.”

  Dorie lowered her brows and gave Julie a look that made her squirm. “We’ll start simple.” She lifted the saltshaker and set it back down on the table. “Move this.”

  When Dorie said to do something, people generally did it. Julie closed her eyes and tried to shut out the chattering voices that filled the dining area, the colorful posters that lined the bright walls and the smells of fresh bread and rich, brewed coffee. She tried to clear her mind of everything but the small, glass saltshaker, half full of salt. Instead, she saw Harrison, standing at the head of a long, polished wooden table, blond hair touched by sun from some unseen window.

  “Why are you smiling?” Dorie asked suspiciously. “Concentrate. The purple warrior will be back soon.”

  Julie shook her head to clear the image of Harrison and replace it with a saltshaker, but he wouldn’t leave. Dorie’s voice became a background hum as Julie settled back in her chair, lost in her fantasy.

  The room Harry stood in blurred around the edges, like her mind had decided to add low-budget dream sequence special effects. Only Harry was clear. He wore a white button-down shirt with a brown tie. His cuffs were held together by amber cufflinks that glinted in the light. He appeared to be talking to people in the room, his brow furrowed, his face serious. Suddenly, his head jerked slightly and turned. He looked directly at her, surprised. A woman, young, blonde and too pretty, came up behind him and put a hand on his arm. Her hand moved in a caress down his forearm, settling at his wrist.

  Annoyance shot through Julie. Just for fun, she aimed an imaginary bolt of energy at Touchy-Feely Girl. The woman opened her mouth and jumped back, dropping the papers she’d been holding in her other arm. Flustered, she bent to pick them up, going out of Julie’s sphere of vision.

  Harrison stiffened, an alert expression on his face. Julie had the urge to duck, like he could see her. Someone at the table commanded his attention and Harrison began talking, one long-fingered hand automatically reaching down to straighten the cuff the woman had pulled crooked. The man really needed to loosen up. Nobody should look that perfect. It made the rest of the world feel inferior.

  With a wicked grin, she set about to muss him up. She mentally pulled off his boring brown tie, slowly unfurling the knot and dropping it on the table. Next, the top button of his collar flew off, landing with a ping on the table in front of him.

  Cool. She was getting sound effects in her fantasy now. In fact, there was an irritating noise building in her head that sounded like rushing wind. She ignored it. She was having too much fun.

  She popped his next button and then the next. Hmmm. Why not just do away with the shirt entirely? Poof. The shirt disappeared.

  He was beautiful. Hard, muscled and just…beautiful. Julie took a deep breath and could swear she smelled him. Warm, clean, Harry. She wanted to kiss the blond hair on his chest, to look up and watch his expression while she did it. She leaned forward, felt his hair tickle her nose, heard the angry rumble in his chest. The angry rumble?

  She opened her eyes when water splashed over her face, drenching her.

  “Julie, what is wrong with you?” The panic in Dorie’s voice snapped her into awareness.

  “I must have fallen asleep.”

  “In the middle of lunch?” Dorie grabbed her arm and shook it. “Jules, we have company.”

  Julie brushed her wet hair off her face. She focused on the man and woman across the table from her—Luc Deschamps and a person who had to be his sister, Marguerite. So this was the woman who had put the curse on Harrison and disrupted Julie’s life. Julie stood, feeling the hair on the nape of her neck begin to sizzle.

  “They just appeared out of nothing!” Dorie whispered the words frantically, but judging from the excited buzz circling the restaurant, the way these two had arrived wasn’t a secret.

  Tall, graceful and confident, Marguerite made her feel damp and dumpy, though the damp part was technically Dorie’s fault. Marguerite’s long, straight, hair looked exactly like she had just stepped out of a shampoo commercial. She wore a cream-colored silk jacket and pants that molded the slim curves of her body. Her feet were encased in three-inch heels that exactly matched her outfit. Blue, blue eyes held contempt, as they looked Julie up and down, pausing on the comfortable black loafers that she wore with almost everything.

  “You are the woman who thinks to block my curse?” The disbelief in her musical, lightly accented voice was insulting.

  “I look more competent when I’m not dripping lemon water.” Julie shot a reproachful look at Dorie. “Have we met? I think you may have mistaken me for someone else. I don’t have plans to block any curses.” She glanced at Luc, not able to decipher the expression on his face.

  “There is no mistake.” Marguerite almost spat out the words. “Even I felt your power, and I’m not a Sensitive.”

  Power? What power? “Honestly, I don’t know what you’re
talking about. I didn’t get much sleep last night, and I fell asleep and….” She was babbling.

  “Stop. You spilled enough power to light Paris in a blackout.” The woman took a step toward her. “It may be daylight, but I’m still stronger than you, old one.” She raised a slender hand. The air in the room began to push against Julie.

  Sensing danger, Julie picked up the dessert menu, holding it like a shield. Luc put a hand on his sister’s arm. Dorie launched another glass of water, this time toward Marguerite. The water formed a graceful arc through the air, exploding into droplets as it hit Marguerite’s chest. She gasped, her hand dropping to the front of her silk jacket.

  And then Linda appeared, standing between Marguerite and Julie. She twisted her head and glared at Julie. “I can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I?”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault. I just took a little nap, and then she showed up. We old people need our naps.”

  “Nap. Right. Next time you decide to nap just put a frassing neon sign over your head with the words ‘Attack Me.’” She turned toward Marguerite and positioned her sturdy back against Julie’s nose, a living shield. “The sun is high, Marguerite. You can’t win. Leave.”

  Julie peeked around Linda’s arm. Marguerite met her gaze. “I want the Dancer.” She said the words quietly and with such purpose that Julie huddled closer to Linda’s back.

  “For what?” Linda snorted. “You want to kill her and start another war?” A small rose-colored stone appeared in the air before Linda. “You’re already wanted by the Council for gross infractions of Triad law. Don’t make it worse.”

  Linda’s tension alerted Julie to that fact that this must be really, really serious. Dorie crowded behind her, taking advantage of the human shield. Her warmth comforted Julie.

  “You know what I said about there being more to this world than we know?” Dorie whispered.