by K W Quinn
His hands were warm around hers. She took a deep, steadying breath, preparing herself. The ghost of a smile still lingered on his lips, and Reyah knew there was one more thing she had to do.
She leaned in, pressing close, and kissed him. A last kiss. A goodbye kiss. A gentle kiss.
Or it would have been, but Cass leaned in, too, and suddenly things were different. His hands came up, and he cupped her face. Heart racing and the rush of blood in her ears, she dropped the blade, tilting her head and surrendering to the moment. To his mouth.
So different from that first kiss with Dez and Andy as an audience. No one was watching now. There was no need to hold back. She wrapped her arms around his waist, clutching at his soft shirt. She wasn’t embarrassed by the breathy sounds that escaped as she pressed herself closer. As far as kisses went, this was the best one yet.
Then something happened. A swirling something. An impossible something. She felt the rush of the soul transfer, the push of energy against her, the sizzle of the contract being fulfilled.
It wasn’t possible. She’d never made a bladeless soul transfer. It was a last resort. It was barbaric. It ruined the soul, consumed it.
She panicked and tried to pull away. She couldn’t do this. It was wrong. It didn’t feel anything like Tarone had described. It wasn’t violent, but it was powerful. She tried to resist but gave up after a few frantic heartbeats. She felt dizzy and weightless. She clung tighter to Cass, who had his fingers tangled in her braid.
He was kissing her more fiercely now. Not the gentle goodbye she had planned but an impassioned promise she wasn’t sure they could keep. But the rush of his soul pushing into her continued. She knew she had intended to do this, but the blade was on the ground. How was it possible?
Every emotion, every sensation, every doubt and fear came crashing into her, blowing apart her restraint and intentions. His soul, so pure and rich, filled her with light.
Then, breathless, Cass pressed his forehead to hers, still cupping her face with one hand. They swayed together for a moment. Cass slid one hand down to the small of her back.
She grabbed both of his hands and pulled them up to clutch them to her chest. He was smiling. Giddy. She knew her face must look similar, but she couldn’t think past his blinding smile.
“I think I’m still mad at you,” he whispered.
“Fair,” she said. He shouldn’t be smiling at all. She felt his soul, felt the release of the contract. She’d done it. Everything inside her told her it was true, and yet Cass wasn’t soulless. He was still very much Cass, not the hollow automaton that resulted from taking a soul. “How . . . how do you feel?”
“I love you. I’m terrified and angry, but I want to fight and make up and figure it all out.” He twisted his fingers with hers, licking his bottom lip.
Reyah shook her head. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“What about this situation does?” He nuzzled her cheek.
“No, Cass, I mean . . . wait a minute.” She paused. She spread their arms, looking Cass up and down, searching for the glow that had become so familiar to her. It wasn’t there. He didn’t glow anymore. The glow of his soul was gone. So how in the bloody world was he still Cass?
“Reyah,” Cass said with a chuckle, “do you know that you’re glowing?”
Her head snapped up. “I’m what?”
Cass gave half a chuckle. “Glowing. Like you swallowed a firefly. An actual glow, all golden and soft. Is this a dragonkin thing?” He pulled a hand free to rub her shoulder.
She turned her hands over, but there was no glow to be seen. “No, I don’t glow. I’m not glowing. That was your thing, only you’re not glowing anymore.”
“My thing? I don’t—”
“But you did. To me. Part of the contract. I could see your soul.”
“Really? Cool.”
“Cass. You don’t understand. You’re not glowing anymore. And I felt the soul transfer. The contract is complete.” She lifted her hands and gestured helplessly. “I don’t know how or why. I dropped the blade. I was trying to stop it, but . . .”
“Stop what? Kissing me? Because you started it.”
“No. I mean, not really. For like half a second, yes, but not because I wanted to. Because I was scared.”
“To be honest, I was scared too. It felt way more important than any other kiss ever has,” he confessed.
“Well, yes, but also, no. Because what I mean is that I felt it. Do you understand? I did it. I took your soul.”
“That didn’t hurt at all.”
“But it’s supposed to. And I’m supposed to use the knife. I’ve never taken a soul without it before. There’s a way, a bad way, but I’ve never done it.” She grabbed her braid, twisting the end in her fingers.
“Glad to know that your job doesn’t require sucking face, just sucking souls,” Cass said with a grin and an eyebrow waggle. Reyah smacked him gently on the arm.
“This is serious. I’m way out of my depth here. If I have your soul, how are you still you? You should be a husk. A lifeless machine.”
“That sounds awful.” Cass’s smile was unshakable.
Reyah glared at him. “Are you understanding what I’m trying to say?”
“I’m trying. I am. But also.” Cass grabbed her hand, pulling her close. “I want to kiss you again. You’re so everything. And you look so gorgeous right now, all glowy and amazing.”
Reyah smiled despite herself. “Thank you, but I can’t wrap my head around any of this.” She pulled her hand free and paced a few steps, running through it all again in her head.
It made her want to blush as she replayed the kiss in her mind. She wanted to do it again too.
She turned and was about to ask Cass more questions to figure it out, but then she saw it. He was standing there, watching her with a wide, toothy grin, but he was glowing again. Not the golden glow she was used to. Not the soft, pulsing aura that was so very uniquely Cass. Now he glowed blue.
Sparks
Cass had been gone long enough. Andy made his polite excuses to Art and the witches and left them all pestering Dez with questions after lunch. Stepping out into the mountain air, Andy thought Cass would be done blowing off steam and should definitely come to eat something. He was still weak after the fever. Sometimes it was hard to tell who was taking care of whom.
A worn path twisted through the trees, so Andy followed it. Cass wouldn’t have struck out into the unfamiliar forest alone. Probably. Stranger things had happened, but Cass wouldn’t be that careless now. Probably.
The air was cool and sharp this high up. Andy pulled his sweater down over his hands and crossed his arms. It was beautiful here. So quiet and serene. The exact opposite of everything else. Art said there was a lake, too, for Cass to practice his Water skills.
Andy heard Cass up ahead, so he smiled and picked up his pace. If Cass was talking to himself, things were going well. He’d talk things out and find himself.
When Andy heard Kaida’s voice—or whatever her new name was—he broke out into a sprint. Flaming dragon and her flaming backstabbing self.
He rounded a bend in the path and found them sitting on an outcropping of rock. His throat relaxed, and he swallowed the curses he’d been about to shout. They were side by side, talking. Andy couldn’t hear the words, but they weren’t as angry as he wanted them to be.
The witches said there was no reason to be afraid of her or hate her. She was part of everything and necessary, but a lifetime of protective instincts was hard to argue with. Especially when Cass stood and pressed her hands and the blade to his heart.
Andy stepped forward, a warning shout in his throat, when the situation suddenly changed. She wasn’t stabbing him. She was kissing him. And he was kissing her, and there were blue and gold sparks flying around them. Andy lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the bright light that surrounded them both.
It was obviously magic, and he was scared but also fascinated. The hairs on his arms lifted. Ins
tinct told him that he shouldn’t rush into the middle of it, that it was dangerous to interrupt, but his heart beat wildly, and he wanted to get to Cass. What was she doing to him? What was he doing to her?
The light dimmed, pulsed for a few moments, and then disappeared. Cass and Kaida stood together, pressing their foreheads together. Andy squinted and tried to see if Cass was any different. They were smiling and talking to each other all low and quiet. Andy felt like a creepy third wheel.
He stepped forward just as Kaida paced away. He froze, waiting for her to catch him and yell, but she was so wrapped up in whatever had happened that she didn’t notice him. She turned back and stared at Cass, mouth hanging open.
Andy moved forward and called out, “So, what was that all about?”
Cass and Kaida both startled, looking at Andy and then each other.
“I have no idea,” Cass said with a wide grin. “Pretty awesome, though.”
“Andy. Look, I didn’t . . . I don’t . . . something’s gone wrong,” Kaida fumbled.
Andy scowled at her. “What do you mean gone wrong? What was that crazy light show all about?”
“Light show?” they asked in unison.
“Yeah. Sparks and blue-and-gold, swirly light getting all blinding and stuff. Gave me crazy goose bumps. What kind of magic are you using?”
“Sparks?” Kaida held her braid. “I’ve never heard of that happening before.”
“Are you saying there were actual sparks when we kissed? Because, dude, epic.”
“Cass,” Andy and Kaida both said with exasperation.
“Are the witches here?” she asked.
“Inside,” Andy replied, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.
“Great. I need help figuring this all out. When I get a hold of that muse, I’m going to strangle him,” Kaida muttered.
“Get in line,” Andy agreed.
Amel dragged Cass off by his elbow, asking him rapid-fire questions. Reyah watched him go, shaking her head. She felt weird. Lighter or fuller but definitely confused.
“Come on. They’re going to be a while. Let’s make some tea and talk things over from your side,” Charly said, nodding toward Art’s kitchen.
She sat on a stool up against the counter and waited for Charly to start demanding answers she didn’t have.
“You do this often?” he asked and poured water into a kettle.
“You mean jobs like this? Soul collection? Yeah, about one or two every few months, depending on how complicated they are. Most jobs don’t take more than a few days. Sometimes there’s more travel or chasing. Isolating a target to retrieve the soul is the most difficult part. Doing that in public is frowned upon.”
“I meant the part where you get all romantic and start kissing the target,” Charly said flatly. Reyah blinked twice. “Andy made sure to mention that as he ran into the house.”
“Oh. Well, no. That’s never happened before.”
“I’m quite glad, because that was some strong magic you just pulled.”
“Magic? But I didn’t do anything. I don’t know what—”
“Yeah, I figured. It wasn’t Spelled magic. It was wild. Raw magic.”
“I don’t have access to my dragon magic. I’m not old enough,” Reyah protested. She didn’t want to think about what raw magic meant or why she was doing it.
“Whatever it was, it made my hair stand on end, and Amel choked on a pretzel. We felt it all the way up here, and if it weren’t for the fact that Art is meticulous in his warding, I would have thought something had broken in.”
“If he’s so meticulous, how was I able to walk right in?” Reyah asked.
Charly snorted. “Why would we be warding against you? We need you to get on board so we can train Cass.”
Reyah nodded. “It looks like I’m on board now.”
“So, you used the blade?” Charly asked. He set two mugs on the counter and gestured for her to pick.
She grabbed a red one with gold flecks. “No. I was holding it at first, and it was in position, but I didn’t channel the runes. I wasn’t using the correct grip. I was going to. After I kissed him. I think. I’m not sure. It was all a bit blurry.” Reyah tugged her braid. This wasn’t something she wanted to talk about, but she needed to know why.
“Do you know that you and Cass have a natural resonance?” Charly asked, pulling canisters of loose tea from the cabinet.
“Natural? I thought that was made up. Resonance can only be achieved through Spellbinding. We don’t even get full resonance with a contract.” Reyah spun the mug on the counter.
“But you did. You glowed from the minute you read his soulprint.”
“I didn’t glow. He did.” Reyah’s nose scrunched up. She tried to picture herself with a glow. Ridiculous.
“Well, you can’t see your own aura, so of course you wouldn’t notice.” Charly pressed tea into strainer spoons and put one in each mug. “But you saw his soul glow, and it resonated. It didn’t strike you as odd that he seemed more attractive than other targets?”
“Attraction is subjective,” Reyah blurted. “He’s very pretty, but he’s not my usual type. In fact, I don’t have a—”
“I meant like magnetic attraction.”
“Oh. Right.” Reyah stared at the steaming water. The tea began to steep, and she wished she could start this conversation over with more composure. Or dignity.
“You were more strongly connected, or attracted, to his soul than other targets, am I right? Saw him more clearly, felt him more intensely?” Charly stirred his tea slowly. Reyah felt her feelings swirling. “Perhaps he made you question loyalties you thought were unshakable?”
She nodded and wrapped her hands around her mug, hoping the heat would settle her. She was a rebel now.
“That’s what I thought.” Charly sounded irritatingly smug. Reyah tried to glare at him, but his smile was undaunted. “Amel might read all the signs and have all the history, but soulmates are my area of interest.”
“Soulmates? I don’t believe in fairy tales and bedtime stories,” she scoffed.
“Fate has more tricks up her sleeve than any of us can count, so don’t be so dismissive. You just exchanged souls with a kiss, so I’d say we’re deep in the realm of fairy tales already.”
“Exchanged?” Reyah squeaked.
“What color does his soul glow now?” he asked and took a sip.
“It’s blue,” Reyah confessed. “It was gold before, but now it’s blue.”
“And I’ll bet you glow gold now.”
“According to Cass.”
“First time for everything, little dragon. Drink your tea. We have lots to talk about.”
“Stop grinning like that,” Amel said and pulled out a chair in Art’s sunroom.
Windows everywhere let in golden light. It reminded Cass of Reyah’s glow, and he bit his lip to keep from breaking out in another goofy grin. “Sorry. I can’t help it.”
“I know, but try to focus.”
Cass nodded. “On what?”
“The clouds. Can you feel them?” Amel gestured out the window, where the sky stretched, interrupted by long stretches of fluffy clouds. “The stratocumulus.”
“The stratocumulus,” Cass repeated. He searched the sky for any feeling of clouds. “Stratocululoos. Strato. Cutiebus.”
Amel grunted and grabbed Cass’s chin, pointing Cass’s face and one of his own fingers at the clouds. “Those. Right there.”
“Why didn’t you just say fluffy clouds?” Cass’s face was still smooshed in Amel’s tight grasp. His voice sounded all smooshed too. He tried to push the words out through his puckered lips.
“Because there are names for these things. Names mean things. Names that will let you know what you’re doing and not make a mess with fluffy clouds.” Amel let go of Cass’s chin and rubbed his hands together.
He ticked off the points on his fingers. “Stratos. Stratocumulus. Cumulus. Cumulonimbus. Altostratus. Altocumulus. Cirrus. Cirrocumulus. They all mean
things. The troposphere is complicated. So concentrate.”
Cass blew out a quick breath, tilted his head to the side, and tried to pull his thoughts together. He let his Air flow, sending it out as far as he could. It stretched past the trees, tickling the leaves, up and out across the forest. Cass waited for the strain, the familiar internal burn that told him he was at his limit, but it didn’t come.
Up and up, he sent his Air, feeling the chill of the atmosphere. No, troposphere. Amel had told him the name, so he reached for the stratocumulus, fluffy clouds.
He was so amazed when he felt cold, condensed water pressing against his Air.
“Amel,” he said in a breathless whisper. “I can. I can feel them. My Air reached all the way to the clouds. I can feel the sky.” He giggled.
“Your Air is stronger now. But can you feel the Water?”
Cass squinted, tongue peeking through his lips, and searched for some response from the intruding Water. It was an obstacle. He could move the clouds around, but it was like trying to push honey with a feather. “Not really. I can tell it’s there, but it’s foreign.”
“Start there. Move your hands like this, and envision the clouds moving with you,” Amel said, moving his hands in a tai-chi sort of way. Cass sank his teeth into his bottom lip and tried to follow his movements. “Good. Now bend your wrists a little more.”
Soulmates
Reyah and Cass stood in the hallway leading to the living room and stared at each other.
“So,” Cass started. He couldn’t stop looking at her or the pretty glow around her.
“Yeah,” Reyah replied.
“Everything go OK? With the witches? You’re on our side now, I guess?”
“Yeah.” She bit her lip, hand tangled around her braid. “I don’t know which side is which, but I know I’m with you.”
Cass’s stomach twisted like a ballerina. He wouldn’t let himself break into a triumphant dance. There wasn’t room in the hallway anyway.