A Little Street Magic

by Gayla Drummond

  Logan froze, his eyes glued to mine, and his fingertips resting on my jaw. “Why?”

  “Because I’m freaking out about it.”

  He relaxed, blowing out a deep breath. “Oh. I thought you were going to leave.”

  “Not unless you decide I’m too high maintenance.”

  “I won’t. I do think we should agree what happened wasn’t bad or wrong though. We’re supposed to make each other feel good when making love. You being more empathic than most is a bonus, don’t you think?” He smiled, but uncertainly and anxiety radiated from him.

  I realized that I was on the verge of blowing us apart, and did my best to calm down. Looking into his eyes, the last thing I wanted to happen was losing him. We had just started, and I’d never, ever find another man like him. There couldn’t be anyone even close. If what happened didn’t bother him, then I shouldn’t let it use me for a chew toy. “Right.”

  Relief caused him to sag. “Still think I love you.”

  My heart began to thump harder, and I caught his hand to press it to my cheek. “I don’t think anymore. I know.”

  Logan’s face lit up as though I’d just saved Christmas from the Grinch.

  EIGHTEEN

  Something tickled my ear, and I opened my eyes. Logan lay on his side, facing me, one hand tucked under his pillow, the other flat on the bed between us. Our knees were touching, and I smiled, realizing we were mirroring each other.

  Busy drinking in his peaceful, sleeping face, I didn’t immediately twig to the fact that his bed wasn’t in his bedroom any longer. It took another tickle to my ear. I tilted my head back and froze, staring at the large, fluffy, neon purple and teal moth sitting on my pillow.

  More moths fluttered above us, in a canopy of leafy green vines. I closed my eyes, re-opened them, and sighed. Canopy and unearthly colored moths were still present. “Seriously?”

  “You don’t like the bower I made for you?”

  I raised my head enough to look over Logan’s shoulder. Sal sat on a stone bench a few feet from the bed’s edge. He grinned. I didn’t.

  “Young lovers are such a beautiful sight.”

  “Wrinkly faced old gods are such creepy perverts.” I shooed the moth away, and, keeping hold of the sheet, rose to sit tailor-style, clutching it one-handed to hide my breasts. “Where have you been, and why are you creeping on us?”

  “It’s true some time has passed since we last spoke. You were perturbed, if you’ll remember, and I thought I should give you some space.” A pale pink and dark turquoise moth landed on his shoulder. Sal reached up to stroke its furry thorax.

  I gave Logan a gentle poke in the stomach. He didn’t react. “Why is he still asleep?”

  “This is a private conversation. Now tell me, how has my favorite psychic been?”

  Past experience said the little god wouldn’t go away until he was satisfied. “Fine. I mean, aside from learning that demons had some of my blood and hair, had hexed me with delusions, oh, and were again planning to slit me from stem to stern.”

  Sal bobbed his head. “Yes, I completely forgot to mention that. I meant to, but handling the Unseelie/Morpheus situation seemed more important at the time.”

  Prick. “Thanks a lot. You could’ve saved me a little grief there.”

  “You apparently sorted it out just fine. Go on.” His wrinkles rearranged into an expression of expectancy.

  “Well, let’s see.” I adjusted the sheet over Logan, making sure his butt was covered. “Maeve wants me to marry Thorandryll, and he’s not exactly against the plan.”

  Sal waved that away. “I’m sure you can handle it. How’s your family? Your delightful mother, and those two cute little brothers?”

  I cocked my head, my eyes narrowing. “Why do you want to know?”

  He laughed. “So suspicious. You care for them, I care about you. Therefore, I care about them too.”

  Uh huh. I needed to keep a closer eye on my little brothers. Wasn’t there a chance one or both of them might turn out to be psychic? We shared a father. “They’re fine.”

  “Hm, and what about this?” He gestured at Logan.

  “None of your damn business.”

  Sal chortled, dropping his hand. “Oh, having your tiger trapped is new.”

  “He’s not trapped.” What would happen if I tried to smack his smug, wrinkled face? Probably nothing good.

  “Oh, but he is, and willingly so. He’s a fine young man, your Logan. It’s good to see how much your judgment has improved.”

  Did I care about his approval? No. No, I did not. “How about you do me a favor and pay Maeve a little visit? Give her something besides me to think about?”

  The little god shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s your situation to take care of.”

  “Really, what good is it doing me to have you for a fairy godfather?” I tugged the sheet higher and switched hands. “You drop in, tell me I’m doing it wrong or that you can’t help with stuff, and then you’re out. As a bonus, when you need a ride, you don’t bother asking before jumping in.”

  Sal petted the moth again. “You’re still perturbed about that, I see.”

  Actually, I was getting angry about it. I hadn’t at the time, with everything else going on, but now? Oh, yeah. I was hot. “Wouldn’t you be pissed, if someone did that to you?”

  He sobered, and met my eyes. “I sincerely apologize for our trespass, Discordia. It was necessary that you weren’t aware of our presence, or things may have gone quite a bit differently.”

  Sal’s sincerity calmed me down a touch. “Why was it necessary?”

  “If you’d been aware of being our vessel, others would’ve discovered us, and we likely wouldn’t have made it to the cavern where Morpheus was imprisoned.” He lowered his chin. “We gods are not united, child. Some of us work to maintain the world’s balance, while others crave chaos and destruction.”

  I shuddered, and wished Logan would wake up. I needed a hug. “Sal, I really, truly don’t want to be involved in whatever you gods have going on.”

  “It’s not a matter of ‘want.’ The choices you’ve made in the past have already placed you on my side. You chose to use your power to become a crusader. You make daily decisions to right wrongs and help others. You,” Sal stabbed his forefinger in my direction. “Are the one who chooses your path.”

  Apparently, wanting to be good and useful had screwed me when it came to the god stuff. I felt a pout forming, and forced myself to stop it. He dropped his hand again, and looked at Logan. “Do you love your young man?”

  I bristled, ready to launch myself over Logan and attack Sal to protect him. “Yes, and don’t you dare...”

  “Oh, shut up. I’m not going to threaten him. He’s good for you, and if he’s also part of your happiness, then that’s all the better.” A grin rearranged his wrinkles again. “Cernunnos even has a bit of approval for him, and let me say, getting that one to approve of a shifter is practically impossible.”

  I wanted to know, so asked. “Why?”

  “Because he’s the Horned God, Lord of the Hunt, and Level One Billion Master of Animals. Shifters are no longer mere animals. They were taken from him. He’s not a god who forgives lesser beings for taking away his toys.”

  “Oh.” It suddenly made sense, Logan’s not being affected by the Hunt until he’d changed shapes. And Cernunnos’ sharp “You, a tiger who walks in the shape of a man?” before he’d delegated Logan to the role of being my servant.

  It seemed that since I’d vowed to do better, I was learning useful things at a faster rate. Go figure.

  “Well, my time’s up for now. Gotta run.” Sal shooed the moth from his shoulder and stood.

  “Wait. We’re on a case, and...”

  “Yes. Word of advice: What appears obvious isn’t always the truth.” He stared at me. “You need to walk with extreme care, Discordia. Don’t depend on just your powers.”

  “Does that mean another god’s involved in the case?”


  He smiled. “It means you shouldn’t forget you have more than one option, when it comes to protecting yourself. Or,” he nodded at Logan. “Those you love. Surprise people. Good chat, see you later.”

  And boom, he was gone. I twisted and dropped down on my back, scowling up at the rainbow of moths and greenery. I hadn’t had the chance to ask him about Petra’s theory. “It sucks, being his favorite psychic.”

  A fat, furry blue moth with yellow legs and antennae landed on my face. Dust fell from its wings. I sneezed...

  “Whoa.” I opened my eyes, catching Logan in the act of pulling back the cup of coffee he’d been holding close to my nose.

  Which was running a little. Gross. I sniffled. “Sorry.”

  “Let me get you a tissue, and a fresh cup.” He put the cup on the nightstand. I sat up and threw off the covers.

  “I’ll get it. Have to use the bathroom anyway. Oh.” I was naked. So was he. “We can’t start your cooking lessons nude. Something important could get burned.”

  Logan smiled. “I was hoping we could hold off for an hour or so before starting them.”

  I returned his smile while leaving the bed. “Hold that thought until I get back.”

  Two hours later, we were finally dressed and in the kitchen. I felt fantastic, relieved we hadn’t had a repeat of the inadvertent mental linkage when his moment arrived. “The biggest trick is selecting the right temperature to cook with. Get in a hurry and turn up the heat too much, and you’ll be scorching or burning food left and right.”

  “I’ll remember that.” Logan poured the whipped eggs into the waiting skillet. “So he knew about the hex and forgot to tell you?”

  “That’s what he said.” I’d told him about Sal’s visit, during our after cuddles, but had skipped the parts where we’d talked about him. “You don’t have to stir them constantly, but don’t let them sit too long either.”

  “Okay.” He traded me the bowl for the spatula I was holding. “How do I know when it’s time to stir?”

  “Watch the edges.” I went to the sink and rinsed out the bowl, not caring how domestic we were being. “Give the eggs a good stir when the edges start looking a little dry.”

  “Right.” Intent on the skillet, he said, “Sounds like the Morpheus thing would’ve gone sideways if he’d asked pretty please.”

  “Sal made it sound that way.” I looked out the window over the sink, checking on the dogs. They were playing. Logan’s backyard didn’t have a fence, but a line of tall shrubbery marked its dimensions. The sun was shining, and it wasn’t too cold to hike to the meadow. I wondered what the weather was like outside the territory.

  Returning to the stove, I hugged Logan from behind and peeked over his shoulder at the skillet. “Doing good. I have a question.”

  “Which is?”

  “Can you get your pocket realm to pass you secret messages?”

  Logan stirred the eggs. “Our pocket realm. Yes, and it’s necessary, to keep everything maintained properly.”

  “You heard me asking Thorandryll about ward alarms, right?”

  “I did. Yes, he probably does have his realm letting him know when you show up unannounced.” He patted my clasped hands. “If I’d known you were wondering, I would’ve told you once I learned about that.”

  “No problem. I wasn’t actually curious about it until last night. But I have been dying to know how he always has the right number of chairs for guests, even when he didn’t know I was coming, or who with.”

  Logan laughed. “Remind me, you need to be hooked into our realm. It recognizes you, but it’s not going to respond much until you’re bonded to it.”

  My forearms and hands were getting too warm, being close to the skillet. I gave him a final squeeze and moved to the side. “Gonna guess that blood’s required?”

  “Yes, just a few drops.” He was not looking away from the skillet, and his seriousness was quickly becoming amusing. “If anything ever happens, and we’re invaded here, we all need to be bound to the realm. It’ll help, change to confuse the enemy, and other things.”

  “Wow. That sounds, I don’t even know.” I frowned. “So it’s alive?”

  “Not exactly. It’s more like,” he paused to stir the eggs again. They were almost done. “Like artificial intelligence. But magic artificial intelligence.”

  “Go ahead and add the cheese.” I pushed the bag of shredded cheddar closer to him. Logan quickly sprinkled a healthy handful over the eggs. “Let it melt, give the eggs a good final chopping stir, and they’re done.”

  “Okay.” Someone knocked on the front door, and he looked at me. “Can you get that?”

  “Yep.” I left the kitchen, smiling, but also hoping he didn’t let the cheese melt too long. Reaching the front door, I opened it wide. “Hey.”

  Terra’s scowl become a big smile. “Hi. What are you doing...oh. Ooh.”

  Laughing, I pulled her inside and into a hug. “Logan’s cooking breakfast. Come on in.”

  “You do know he’s worse at cooking than I am, right?” She flipped her pale braid over her shoulder. “I mean, than I was. I’m better now, thanks to you.”

  “He decided he needed cooking lessons too.” We walked back to the kitchen, to find Logan moving the skillet to a hot pad while turning off the stove. “Okay, let me see the results.”

  He’d gone stiff, and moving back to let me check the eggs, half-bowed to Terra. “My Queen.”

  “Stop it!” She was suddenly in tears. I tried to make myself as small as possible as the tension in the room ratcheted up twenty notches. “Stop being so, so...”

  Logan went to her, pulling her into a hug. Terra sobbed on his shoulder. “I hate fighting with you.”

  “I don’t like fighting with you either.” He stroked her hair, beginning to rock slightly. “I love you, and just want what’s best for you. I want you to be happy.”

  “I am,” she wailed, her hands clenching into fists against his back. “Except for us fighting over it.”

  He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and spoke slowly when he did. “If you’re truly happy, then I’m okay with it.”

  Terra pulled back, her hands relaxing, to look up. Her face was pink and tear-stained. “Really?”

  “Yes.” He pulled her back against his chest and kissed the top of her head. “Really.”

  I tiptoed across the kitchen and slipped out the back door to give them a few minutes alone.

  NINETEEN

  We’d forgotten our morning engagement with David, and were on our way to the Blue Orb to make up for it. Logan slowed the car for a turn. “Sorry breakfast was cold.”

  “It warmed up nicely. Microwaves are useful things. Besides, I’m just glad you and Terra are good again.”

  “I’m sorry, it sounds like Logan cooked breakfast.” Dane leaned forward to look at him. “Did you cook breakfast?”

  “Under her expert eye.”

  “And neither of you thought to invite me?”

  I kissed his cheek. “Sorry. It was a private breakfast.”

  “Why was,” he paused, sniffing at me. Turning his head, he sniffed at Logan. “Oh.”

  As my face began warming, Logan elbowed him in the chest. “Do you remember that talk we had about behaving like humans in public?”

  “Yes.” Dane eased all the way into the back seat, out of his reach. “But Cordi’s clan.”

  I was currently a rather red-faced clan member. Logan patted my thigh, and shot Dane a Look via the rearview mirror. “We do not sniff at each other in public.”

  “Sorry, Cordi. I won’t sniff you again.”

  “I’d appreciate that. Um, does that mean we smell like...” Sex, I was going to ask, but Logan answered before I finished.

  “Our scents are mingled. That’s what he smelled.”

  “Oh.” We’d taken a shower together before cooking breakfast. Good to know we didn’t smell like stale sex, because eww. “I guess that means everyone with a good nose can smell us on each other?�
�

  “Yes.” Logan glanced at me. “It happens with everyone. We’re simply able to smell it.”

  I remembered Nick smelling Thorandryll on me, the day the elf had macked on me. “I knew that, just didn’t occur to me right then.”

  “It’s stronger when two people have...”

  “Dane,” Logan warned.

  “I’m not going to tease. When two people have been intimate, their scents mingle more.”

  “I see.” Basically, every shifter we were around was going to know we’d had sex. I was not exactly cool with that idea. No one needed to know what was going on in my personal life, unless I chose to share it with them.

  On the other hand, I kind of liked the idea that Thorandryll might pick up on it, at our four o’clock meeting. “How good are elf noses?”

  Dane laughed. Logan grinned, guiding the car around another, slower vehicle. “Not as good as ours, but better than humans’.”

  “Does the uh, scent mingling get stronger, the more often we’re intimate?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that what you meant about marking territory?”

  A choking gurgle came from the back seat, and Logan flushed, but gamely replied. “Yes.”

  I grinned. “I thought you wanted me to bite you.”

  More gurgles, and the sound of a fist pounding the back seat. Logan’s flush grew darker. He was practically tomato red now. Which is why I wasn’t expecting him to say, “Oh, you can bite me.”

  I began laughing. Dane seemed to be having a fit of some sort, and I twisted around to take a look at him. He had his head back, face bright pink and contorted. Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes, his teeth were clenched tight, and he was pounding on the seat with one fist. His chest was heaving. “You okay?”

  That apparently did it for him. Roars of laughter poured forth, and before I knew it, Logan and I were laughing with him. I don’t know how we didn’t end up in a wreck, but we made it safely to the shop.

  “Ow, I hurt now.” I wiped my eyes, my cheeks aching. I had to rub them next. “Do I look like a raccoon?”