by Brea Viragh
The Cavaldis, she mused. A family with magic dating back to the beginning. Her co-workers knew about the eclipse and the arrival of the Harbinger, a witch born in times of great need, capable of restoring balance to the world. With the sole Cavaldi son in custody, Zelda was tasked with keeping an eye on the rest of the clan.
They needed the Harbinger on their side. To understand their goals and dreams for the future. To tip the balance in favor of the Claddium’s interests. Israel was her inside man, content to keep a watchful eye on one daughter while Zelda paid for his service with her body.
“Tell me more about the odd behavior, Mr. James. That’s the entire point of our little luncheon, yes?” She gestured at the table separating them, the tablecloth and accoutrements prepared to display the elegances of their coming feast. “Your keeping me updated?”
“Surely that’s not the only reason?” Israel waggled his brows.
Zelda tapped her fingernails on the table, her eyes narrowing. “Speak.”
“All right, all right. There are a few more things. Although I don’t know why you’re so interested in her. I didn’t think women were your thing.”
Keeping Israel in the dark about her motives was in itself an act of balance. She needed definitive answers from him while making sure he didn’t understand the entirety of the end game. “I told you before not to question our arrangement. You keep me happy and I keep you happy. Remember?”
A server delivering bountiful food interrupted them, setting plates down in front and checking to make sure the tea remained plentiful. Both man and woman assured him of their contentment and went back to their conversation.
Zelda glanced down at the steak, noting immediately that the temperature was off. Instead of sending it back, she touched a finger to the meat and brought it to where she wanted it. Juices sizzled, though the plate remained cool to the touch.
Israel dove into his chicken with vigor. He speared a chunk and spoke through the food in his mouth. “I don’t know what you want me to say. There are little things. Aisanna is jumpier than usual. A lot vaguer about where she’s been and where she’s going. There was something last month with her sister, I know. She wouldn’t tell me exactly what it was but I got the impression it had something to do with the farmhouse explosion. She kept mentioning a fire.”
“Interesting.” Something to consider, at least. Orestes would find the news quite to his liking. She needed more. “Anything else?”
“When she came by today, she said she didn’t remember last night but there was glitter in her hair and club stamps on her hands. Blood on her neck. I didn’t press. Didn’t want her around. I wanted to send her packing Do you think that would have been better?”
“No, you did the right thing. Do you remember what club it was? Constance, perhaps?”
“No, it wasn’t Constance. I didn’t recognize the stamp. Probably one of those newer places downtown where the kids hang.”
“Yes. Perhaps.”
Israel babbled on about other meaningless things, deciding he was done with their conversation regarding Aisanna.
Zelda tuned out somewhere in the middle and was unconcerned about anything outside of his connection with the Cavaldis and their children. Her real interest lay in the wheeling and dealing of information. She traded those tidbits like gold bullions and found Israel to be a ready and willing informant.
She had eyes and ears watching the family. With the approach to the eclipse, patrol should be doubled. Whatever magic those girls dabbled in warranted higher security and around the clock observation. None of them could possibly be the Harbinger, she thought. Orestes and his suspicions be damned.
“Regarding the Cavaldi girl,” Zelda interrupted.
“God, this again?”
“You need to continue whatever it is going on between the two of you. It’s in your best interest and mine. Know that I will continue to reward you handsomely for your involvement.”
“Are you serious?” Israel chewed thoughtfully. “I mean, I guess, if you insist. I won’t tell you no. As long as I still have the freedom to see other people.” His eyes warmed and he reached across the space to tickle her palm with his fingertips.
Zelda remained unmoved. “We shall see. I’ll keep you abreast of the situation as it develops and let you know of any changes. Right now, you will not turn her away. You will bring her into your confidence and gain her trust. There are things at work here I cannot speak to you about, and it would behoove you to get any and all information out of her without me stepping in.”
“Yeah, I hear you.”
“Do I make myself clear?”
“Of course! I’m not as dumb as you think I am,” Israel commented.
Before either one finished their meal, she pushed away from the table. A few twenties were extracted from the small purse at her side and thrown down next to her plate. “That should take care of things on my end.”
Israel stared up at her in surprise. “You’re leaving?”
“I have business.”
“You can’t leave in the middle of our date. Zelda, be reasonable.”
“I’m always reasonable.”
Zelda Vuur, the head of the Fire Elementals for the Great Lakes Claddium, drew on her coat, though she did not need the warmth. With a spare glance over her shoulder and a tiny salute, the petite red-haired woman exited the restaurant and headed back to the office.
**
When Aisanna awoke that afternoon, she was in a strange bed, with blankets tucked tight enough to render her a human burrito. She jolted up, ready to bolt, adrenaline coursing through her.
Her heart beat furiously against her chest as she took in the surroundings. Warm taupe walls, berry-colored sheets, and a huge wooden sleigh frame bed in light maple. The cozy details had her brows knitting together.
Unfamiliar, but good quality. Everything in its place and a place for everything. Art on the walls was minimal but tasteful. Each piece matched the others with rustic, masculine charm.
Gone were her borrowed clothing from Israel, replaced instead with soft flannel pajamas in a blue checkerboard pattern. The material brushed against her agonized skin and she felt something inside of her release at the sensation.
There was something relaxing about the room, the clothing, the sheets. Several candles littered the space and lent it warmth. There was only one place she could be.
Still, Aisanna startled when a man came through the door with a tray in his hands.
“Good, you’re awake.” Elon shot her a comforting smile. “I was starting to worry about you. You must have needed the sleep.” He used his foot to push aside a small metal decoration keeping the door open and approached the bed with only the slightest teetering of plates. “I made you some soup. I hope you like it. Kind of a catch-all in a crock pot thing. There’s a lot of vegetables, so it’s good for you.”
“Elon?” Aisanna pushed her hair out of her eyes and stared at the man. She wrung her hands. “Why am I in your bed?”
If the question bothered him, he pushed it aside. “Happy to tell you. You had an episode. I’m not going to go into it but you were screaming on the street.” He set the tray down on a nearby bedside table, then the mattress sagged a little under his weight as he sat next to her. “I brought you home with me because I didn’t know where else to go.”
She stared at the steam rising from the appealing concoction in a neat bowl. Along with the soup, Elon had added a plate of store-bought cookies and a glass of something liquid looking suspiciously like apple juice. She sniffed the air and nearly swooned.
“You made soup? For me?”
“No, I just brought it in here to torture you.” Elon grasped the bowl in both hands before holding it out to her.
Aisanna took the soup and brought it to her nose, inhaling deeply until she felt certain parts of her thawing. “You must be Superman. No one is this nice without a price.”
“No price, Aisanna. Just soup.”
They sat for a mo
ment in companionable silence. Aisanna peered at her bowl, desperately wondering if any more murderous thoughts would invade her head. Would Darkness force her to throw the entire thing in his face and watch while the hot liquid scalded those handsome features? Or would she clobber him to death with the bowl?
When none of these things came to fruition, she looked up, spoon wobbling in her grasp.
“Something is happening to me, Elon,” she said softly. “And it’s safer if you weren’t around. I’m not myself lately and I’m not sure I can risk you being close to me. This,” she gestured around, “is too much.”
Elon shook his head, his stomach pitching to his knees. “That’s never going to happen. It’s only soup.”
“I’m your boss. You should listen to me.” She swirled the soup around with her spoon, making designs in the broth. “I’m also older and wiser. Haven’t you been taught to respect your elders?”
“You may be my boss at work, and my elder in certain circles, And you could probably hex me into a toad, or even a daylily for one of your arrangements, but I’m going to be here for you regardless.”
She chuckled despite herself. When she did nothing but play with her food instead of eating it, Elon took the spoon from her and brought a bit of liquid to her lips.
“Eat. Even if it costs me my dignity when you try to kick my ass.”
“Try? No, sweetie, I do not try. I do.”
“I’m still feeding you.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she joked.
He ignored her dire prophecy and pushed the bowl closer. “It’s chicken, veggies, and rice. Now open up and eat. I’m serious.” Elon used his eyes to gesture. “Spoon, mouth.”
Aisanna let it slip through her lips, chewed and swallowed. “You know, I kind of like it when you’re bossy.”
“Just try to enjoy it. You were talking in your sleep, you know,” Elon said.
She stiffened. “What was I saying?”
“Mostly grunts, terrified squeaks. Something about a female, I gathered. You begged her not to take you, to please release you. You apologized to someone else but I didn’t catch the name.”
“All from a catnap?”
Her fingers gripped the sheets reflexively and she stilled the movement. It wasn’t safe for her to be there with him. Though she didn’t see the seed of evil planted, she didn’t have to. She felt it inside of her. She felt the scabs picking at her whenever she twisted and moved her arms.
They were not out of danger.
“Listen,” Elon began, “you have your opinion and I respect it. But it’s my prerogative versus your wishes. I’m staying. Or rather you’re staying, because at this moment in time you are at my mercy and I’m not ready to give you up.”
“That sounds like the beginning of a hostage situation,” she said with forced lightness.
“Only if it results in a healthy dose of Stockholm syndrome.”
Aisanna drew in a breath, her belly full and her heart empty. He was innocent, inexperienced when it came to danger. His eyes were only for her. What had she brought him into? Inadvertently, sure, after she’d tried to dissuade his attention. If anything happened to him, it would be on her shoulders. Another weight pushing her down.
Yet here she was, in a pair of Elon Fayer’s pajamas, in his bed, being fed by a man she’d considered hopeless. She etched the picture in her memory and vowed to never forget.
“Thanks for the pajamas. And the soup.” She shuffled to the edge of the bed and set her feet down on the carpet. The woven loops abraded her swollen skin. “Jesus. Walking is a bad idea.”
“Let me help you.”
“I’ve got it. I can heal myself.” She didn’t want any more of his help. He’d already done too much for her, seen too much. She sent a wave of magic lower and lower until a blanket of healing covered her soles. Within seconds the pain disappeared but exhaustion took its place. “Is there more soup?”
He leaned forward, careful not to jostle her. His smile was slow to come. When it did, the sweetness made her heart sputter. “Absolutely.”
Elon opened his mouth to speak again and she cut him off, two fingers against his lips. “I’m not going to explain it to you now. Maybe later, once I’ve figured a few things out. You sure you won’t leave? Even if I tell you that your life is in danger?”
“Sorry. I’m afraid you’ll have to deal with me a little longer.”
She only shook her head. “Can you help me outside? I need a little air.”
“Of course. Let me find some slippers for you.”
Aisanna watched him rush around the room and stifled a laugh. “I’m not Cinderella. I don’t need slippers— Oh, great. Yeah. That works. Thanks.”
She sat still while Elon slid soft cotton booties over her feet. It was a little embarrassing, she thought as he helped her down the hallway.
“I really want to know,” he said, “is it men in general you seize up around? Or just me?” He shook her arm to make it flop. “I either make you nervous or you need to seriously relax.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“Prove it. Loosen up.” He shook her arm again.
She made herself go limp in his arms to prove a point. “How’s this?”
He held her loosely. “Better.”
In the foyer, they turned left and walked toward the front door. On the far side of his lawn was an area to park, directly adjacent to a busy ethnic restaurant. Curry and other exotic spices filled her lungs and she breathed in deep.
The night had always been a time of excitement, of infinite possibilities when anticipation hung in the air and anything could happen. Now she dreaded the evening, watching the sun begin its descent with mounting anxiety and shuddered as those first swirls of navy and blue appeared.
The night was when she appeared. The One Who Walks in Darkness. And when she wanted you, then you did everything you could to stay in the light.
Elon ran his hands up and down her arms. “I should have given you a coat, too.”
“Better you put one on.” Aisanna took a deliberate step in retreat. The chill air teased his nipples into points. She stared at them through his thin t-shirt, had to force her gaze back up to his face.
“I’m hardier than I look. I’m used to harsh Midwestern winters.”
There were long, lean muscles in his arms, she noted. She’d already admired them while he was fully dressed. Now she felt like a diabetic in front of a candy store. She knew she shouldn’t want what she saw. It was bad for her.
“Come on back inside,” he said.
“I should go home.”
“In a little bit. I thought you wanted more soup? And I’m sure you could use something to drink.”
“No beer.” She pointed at him, hoping he would get the joke.
He did. “Never again in this decade. I’m afraid of what I might see this time.” He scratched his head and let the wooden door swing shut behind them.
Aisanna stood in the foyer and took a good look around for the first time. A small entryway led down a hall and opened onto a living and dining area. A galley kitchen overlooking a back patio was to the left of the space.
Wealthy by no means, Elon did the best he could with the place, a unique combination of both bachelor pad and family home. Nothing she would have expected from a twenty-five-year-old single male.
“You know, you still have to explain why you flipped out on me earlier. Here, come on into the kitchen.”
The counters were raw wood, stained and sealed, with wonderful white cabinets and leaded-glass fronts to offset the darker tones. For a garden-variety apartment, he’d done his fair share to make it custom, make it his own. Even when the window over the sink only offered a view of the neighbor’s house, fitted interior wooden shutters camouflaged the deficit.
They talked for a while, flirted even though she was out of practice. Aisanna was more of a go-getter, taking what she wanted and asking questions later. She found she rather enjoyed the slow back and forth
, both parties fully aware of what they were doing.
Yes, he was attractive. Dark hair, handsome face, deep-set blue eyes, Roman nose, and artist’s lips. A slight layer of stubble on his jaw lent a desirable rugged quality to his features. Neither too tall not too short, Elon stood at the perfect height for her frame.
Her mouth went dry at the muscles in his chest when he moved, visible even under the thin t-shirt, how they continued down to a trim waist that nipped in with a classic male V, and on down to where flannel pajama pants covered narrow hips. How had she not noticed before?
“You have a lot of thoughts going on inside your head.” Elon grabbed a pitcher from the fridge and poured a glass of apple juice, held it out to her. “Care to share with me?”
“I was thinking about what a nice place you have here. Very homey.”
“My mother would die if she saw the mess I left on the dining table. I don’t even use it to eat. No, don’t look! I mostly use it for storage. Needless to say, things are a lot more presentable when I’m expecting company.”
“I’m a firm believer in keeping a good distance between family and my personal life. Anything I can do to have my apartment to myself, I do it.” She looked away, and still she saw Elon’s face in her mind’s eye. He had a nice face. “I appreciate what you’ve done for me. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own problems, I hardly take the time to think about anything anymore. My health, how what I do affects the people around me… I’ve been playing it by ear. I’m not sure what to do.”
“You’ll figure it out. You’re too driven not to.”
“Too driven is just a nice way to say boring and dull.”
“Trust me, Aisanna, you’re anything but dull. Although I do think, with all your stress, you could do with a bit of recreation.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “You know the right things to say, don’t you? Tell me why a nice guy like you can’t find a girlfriend.”
“More like won’t. Sorry, but I have my sights set on someone in particular. Even though she hardly notices me.”
Aisanna hid her blush by taking a sip of her juice. “Oh, I’m sure she notices you. Just like I’m sure she knows it’s better for you to find someone who will give you everything you deserve and more. Someone who will repay your kindness with kisses instead of trouble.”