by Calinda B
Her father had always been protective of her, schooling her in his fatherly way about the wiles of men. “With a man, pumpkin, it’s a simple thing. Most men have only an on-off button. Women have buttons and dials galore. Women are complex. Men are simple.”
She remembered scrunching up her face, trying to picture all her mother’s dials and buttons. She’d never seen them. “Do I have them?” She’d pulled up her shirt to examine her belly.
“No, pumpkin, it’s a figure of speech. All I mean is that when a beautiful woman walks in the room, she can stir things in a man.”
“What kinds of things does she stir? Like when mom makes cookies?”
“No, honey. She just stirs…things. You want to stir his heart, not just those other things. You want a man who will be kind to you and not use you for his own selfish purposes. Don’t be a stupid girl. I’m not saying don’t, er, don’t do anything with men, just be smart about it.”
He’d never filled in the blanks as to what it meant to be smart. Not knowing the answer, she’d rarely dated, seldom had a relationship lasting more than a few months. Jason had been a yearlong milestone. Is it smart to even be thinking about this stuff when my fingers became tiny sparklers, and I envisioned Daniel’s skull around my neck? Gah!
Sober growled from his bed, interrupting her reverie. “Knock it off,” Marissa commanded, glaring at him. If dogs could scowl, he was returning the scowl. “I’ve got this,” she told him. “But thank you.” He settled down on his bed in a canine pout. She squeezed her eyes, willing the dream to be smashed into a tiny ball in her head. Mistake. The others in the dream thought she was Daniel’s mistake. I’ll show him. I’m no one’s mistake. Matter of fact, with Jason out of the picture, she was no one’s anything. “It’s better this way. If I’m a single, out of control Light Rebel, everyone will be safer.”
The doorbell rang, and she pulled on her robe to answer. At the door, stood a portly, stern member of Seattle’s finest. The lights flashed atop his police cruiser.
“Hello, Officer.”
“We’ve apprehended the intruder, miss. He says he knows you.”
She squinted out at the cruiser, spying Jason in the back seat.
“He did. I mean, he does. We dated for a while, but we broke up. He has a habit of showing up uninvited, letting himself into my home without permission and things like that. I recently had to change the locks.”
“It’s a common thing. Some people just can’t let go. We’ll have to take him down to the station, and let him cool off. He’s pretty angry. Do you want to press charges for his attempts to enter your property?”
Jason? Angry? Mr. Harmonia? Marissa stuck her head out to peer at the cruiser, sitting in her driveway. Jason pleaded through the window, pressing his palms together in front of his chest. His nose smashed against the glass just like a dog. Her fierce will dissolved like salt in the sea. “Gah!” She grabbed her head. “No! Don’t press charges! Just…just…get him out of here!”
“Are you sure, Ms…” The policeman looked down at his notes. “Ms. Engles? Perps don’t give up if you give them a chance.”
Perps. So I’ve been dating a perp, and now I’m someone’s mistake? “He’s, uh, he’s got a good heart,” she mumbled.
“Well, you’ll have to sign here,” he said, tapping his report.
Marissa grabbed the pen and scribbled her signature.
“Let us know if you have any more trouble. These things can escalate, and we don’t want that.” He tipped his head, turned, and strode to the car.
After she’d closed the door, she wandered back to her bedroom, Sober Dober by her side. “3:45am,” she groaned, glancing at her alarm clock. “Good thing I don’t have to go to work tomorrow,” she told Sober. She grabbed the dog’s muzzle and stared into his golden eyes, his expression one of complete adoration. “What would you do if your paws started shooting sparks? You’d be a little freaked out, too.” Sober’s tail thumped against the floor. “Yeah, well you can talk all tough, but I know you’d be a little worried.” She stepped over to her drawer, pulled out the box of stones, and removed the cardboard top. She gingerly grasped the corner of the scarf and peeked at the stones, afraid they would combust or blow up in her face. Using her index finger, she pushed them around their silken nest, careful not to touch the diamond. No sense alerting Daniel to me, his little mistake. Removing the silk satchel, she crawled under the covers, clutched the fabric-encased gems, and finally fell fast asleep.
Chapter 13
At 10am, Marissa awoke to her dog’s nose in her face, and the agitated alert of her cellphone, indicating a text message. She shoved away the slobbering dog and picked up the phone, reading Daniel’s greeting.
“Good morning, beautiful. How did you sleep?”
“Go to hell,” she muttered, pitching it on the floor. “I’m not your mistake.” She turned over and flung the covers back, disturbing the bundle of gemstones. The glossy, colorful gems spilled onto the floor, wedging in the throw rug and rolling along the wood. She scrambled to pick them up, snatching up the Herkimer diamond in the process.
Marissa.
Go to hell, she thought, dropping the gem back in the scarf.
She threw her robe on and raced down the hall to let Sober out and get her coffee started, stubbing her toe on the coffee table in the front room. “Ouch!” she yelled, jumping up and down. “This is your fault, Mr. Night Numen,” she yelled as the retro ringtone bopped through the air in the bedroom. It was a happy, jazzy little French tune called Les Baleines Bleues, complete with trombones, which usually made her smile and imagine she was sitting at a café in Paris. Not at this moment, however. “Your mistake has plans! Taking myself out to breakfast – alone! All by my out of control self!”
The phone insistently alternated between “read me, read me!” text chimes and “Hey, pick up the phone!” tunes for the next 20 minutes. Finally, she stormed in her room, silenced her phone, and slammed the door.
30 minutes later, she jumped in her car, opened the garage, and put the car into reverse, only to be obstructed by Daniel’s BMW screeching behind her. She glared in the rearview as he opened the car door and leapt from his car.
“What’s the matter?” he called through the window. “Marissa. What happened?” He grabbed the handle, but she quickly clicked the door lock. “Marissa, tell me what’s wrong. What happened?”
“I’m not a mistake,” she called through the glass. She glanced out of the corner of her eye to see his hand pressed against the glass. That hand…that hand that cupped her face last night…so warm… “Go away. I’m not signing up to be your next mistake.”
“Who said you were?”
“I can’t compete with your memories.”
“Why should you?”
“I’m not going to do this. Not going to compete with your beloved Josephina.”
Looking perplexed, he put his hands on his hips. “Can you please roll down the window?”
“No!”
“Fine, have it your way.” He paced around the car to the front and leaned against the sloping windshield.
“You’re not going to pin me with your sorcerer’s gaze,” she shouted, looking away from him. “Your latest mistake is immune to your super powers.”
“Marissa! Please! I at least deserve an explanation. Just tell me what I did to offend you, and I’ll leave you alone.”
“What about my training?”
“What about it?”
“I’m this out of control Light Rebel-thing with all these secret powers. You don’t want to leave that to chance, do you?”
“No,” he said cautiously. “After you tell me what the matter is, I’ll leave you alone, and give you the number of someone who can train you.”
“Is it the old coot who likes to consort with brujas?”
He cocked his head.
When he didn’t say anything, she stole a quick look in his direction. “What?” she said, petulantly.
“You tell me
. Where did you hear of an old coot who likes to consort with brujas?”
“In the same place that I heard that I’m your latest mistake. She clenched the steering wheel and shook it. “The same place I heard that I’m some big deal. The same place where I heard my birth was marked by a sign and that I’m supposedly powerful. Now there’s your mistake – thinking I’m a big deal.” She rolled her eyes. “The same place where I heard that I stir things like a pole dancer.”
“Like a pole dancer?” he spluttered, chuckling. “I’d say it’s more like a hell cat.” He came back around to the driver’s side. “Can you please roll down this window so I don’t have to raise my voice? I’d like to have a conversation with you.”
She continued to grip the steering wheel.
“Please, Marissa. Just tell me and then, if you want, I’ll go.”
“Scout’s honor?”
“I was never a boy scout.”
“Night Numen, tear-sucking honor?”
“Night Numen, tear-sucking honor,” he said, placing his palm to his chest.
She jabbed the button to lower the window, still facing the front dashboard. “No funny stuff. No reaching inside my mind or pinning me with your eyes.”
“None of that, I assure you. Tell me where you heard these things. Or, better yet, how?”
“I woke up in a dream and you were with a bunch of people. You were all discussing me.” Her arms flew to her chest and she folded them tightly. “I’m not used to being the topic of discussion.”
“I see,” he said, his hands on the door frame, leaning in.
The heat of him settled all around her, warming her neck and face, burning a gaping hole to her heart. Want. Oh, God, I want you. I want to bury my face in your hair. I want to fall into your arms. I want to…I want. I want. She closed her eyes and breathed, inhaling his masculine scent. His beloved Josephina. Her mouth pressed into a crisply starched line. I want to slam the door on your fingers and race as far away from you as I can get.
“It’s quite remarkable that you overhead. That must be part of your gift.”
“I’m a real whiz.” Marissa tightened her arms to her chest, avoiding Daniel’s gaze. “An untrained whiz.”
“You are that, true. But truly remarkable.” His fingers released the door and he stood up. “We were having an ether meeting.”
She glanced to the left then stared straight ahead. “I’m listening.”
“When I need to consult with my elders, I ask for an ether meeting. I asked around about you to see what the others had heard and then met with the council.”
“I see.” Not.
“An ether meeting is a way of connecting mind to mind.”
“But I have to have a little stone to connect mind to mind. I’m so powerful.”
“You can connect mind to mind, too. I just thought that would be a way for us to assure your privacy. One that I am bound to respect.”
A little melty feeling formed in her chest, like a child’s hand massaging her heart like Play-Doh. He wants to assure my privacy. Jason, that boundary-less Bozo, never cared what I thought or felt. Her lips pursed and worked side to side. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Any chance I could sit in the car with you?”
“Go ahead.” She unlocked the car door.
He walked to the other side of the car and climbed in.
Too close. She closed her eyes, her awareness sliding to her burning lips. Kiss.
“So tell me why you’re my mistake.”
“Those people…your elders…told you that you’d made many mistakes.”
“I have.”
“They indicated that you might be making another one.”
“They don’t know what I feel. I do learn from my mistakes, you know.”
She glanced to the right, then back at the dashboard.
“Will you please look at me?”
“No. You’ll hypnotize me.”
“I’ve given you my Night Numen, tear-sucking pledge, mi corazón. I keep my pledges.”
She released her grip on the steering wheel and turned to face him. Her lips parted as she gazed at him. “You are so beautiful.”
“I can say the same. And I can assure you that you are not my latest mistake.”
“How can you be so sure?”
He tapped his chest. “I haven’t opened the old ticker since Josephina, dulzura.”
“Since your beloved, you mean.”
“Are you jealous of a ghost?”
“Maybe.” She started to fold her arms over her chest again, but relented. “I just met you, Daniel. But already I feel so…so…” Her gaze swept to his. “I feel things for you. I feel stirred.” A sheepish smile crossed her lips.
“Like I’m a pole dancer?” He chuckled.
She smirked. “More like a pole dancer love god. I can’t explain it.”
“You don’t have to. I feel it, too.” He brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Marissa, Josephina was a long time ago. I’ve had 11 years to mourn, grieve, and heal. I did love her, yes. I did think we had a future together. But things happen. She was killed, and I had to deal with that. And no, I haven’t been able to give my heart away until now. I couldn’t give it to just anybody.” He smiled tenderly at her. “I’ve been waiting for a remarkable woman…a force to be reckoned with.”
“Waiting for a hell cat?”
“That too.” He inclined his head. “Are we friends again? I’m afraid I impulsively arranged a meeting for you.”
“For me to do what?”
“For you to meet a falcon.”
“A falcon? I’m going to get a falcon?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. That’s up to you and the trainer. But he’s a powerful man and can use the birds to teach you things you need to know.”
“What would I do with a falcon?”
“Learn to train it. Become its ally, and hopefully, entice it to become yours. And you’re going to meet the man who will start to train you in the ways of sorcery and light magic.”
“I thought some grandmotherly type would be my trainer.”
“She’s not really a grandmotherly type, but she is a grandmother. She’s rather ferocious, actually. She thought it best to have a male train you – for starters anyway.”
“I see.” Marissa fingered the textured fabric cover of steering wheel. “Where is this falcon?”
“Over in Carnation. It’s a bit of a drive, but I thought we could grab lunch first.”
“I haven’t even eaten breakfast.”
Daniel’s eyebrows rose. “A good falconer needs to have a full belly. Can I take you out to eat?”
“Yes,” Marissa said shyly, glancing at his hand. She really wanted to reach out and touch that hand. “So this will be part of my training?”
“Yes. Since a falcon marked your birth, it only stands to reason that you learn about falconry.”
The thought had romantic appeal to Marissa. She envisioned standing on a hill, her hair whipping in the wind, her arm extended to the soaring bird. “Your car or mine?”
“Which do you prefer?”
“Yours. It’s more fun.”
“Let’s take the fun car, then.” He reached for the door handle but paused. “This isn’t going to be easy.”
“What isn’t?”
“Any of this – your training, learning to the art of falconry – don’t think this will be a breeze. It can take years to master the art.”
Her romantic, hair-whipping fantasy popped like a bubble spraying her with soapy foam. “I, um, don’t.”
“Good. It’s hard to train a falcon. Harder to train an eagle. I tried, but I gave up. I lacked the patience.”
“You did? How will I stand a chance?”
“If it’s your spirit guide, then you’ll find a way.” He turned to look at her. “You’ll be tested every step of the way, mi corazón.”
“Will I?”
“Yes, your courage, your strength, your commitment…and then there’s th
is little matter of your unique abilities. And my desire for you – I told you, I’ve been patient, now my hand is forced by your erratic abilities.”
“It sucks, huh?”
“That’s putting it mildly. All I want to do right now is kiss you, but after last night…”
“One small kiss?”
“Your call.” He stared at her intently, hungrily.
Marissa closed her eyes and licked her lips. “I can do this.” Want. Her eyelids slowly glided open, and she locked eyes with his.
“Marissa…you’re completely beguiling.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“I feel as I’m the one who is hypnotized. Go easy on me, girl. I’m already in too deep.”
Marissa’s breath caught. “You’re already in too deep?”
“I’m afraid so. I was captivated right from the start.”
“Me, too,” Marissa said, her voice all small and squeaky. “Okay.” She lifted her hands to her face. “No sparks.”
“No sparks,” he repeated.
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
The air in the car felt thick and hot. The steering wheel dug into Marissa’s hip as she positioned herself for the kiss. Daniel’s chest rose and fell in synchrony with hers. His lips are like art. I’m painting those lips. My sable brush is filled with creamy oil paints, and I’m stroking it along the canvas…gently stroking…stroking…guiding the color to shape those tender lips out of nothing but desire and pigments.
“Are we going to do this?” he said softly.
“I’m scared. I don’t want to blow you up or electrocute you. And I don’t want to turn into a holiday sparkler.”
“I don’t want that either.”
“What if…what if we’re not meant to be physical?” She swallowed. Tiny beads of sweat on her forehead competed for attention with the seductive fluid in her core.
“Tragic,” he responded. His head slowly turned right and left, his eyes locked to hers.
She clenched and unclenched her hands. “No sparks,” she said again.
“Nope. None.”
“I want you.”
“Are you stalling, Ms. Engles?”
Her breathing quickened like the frightened lop-eared rabbit she had as a child. “Just a little,” she squeaked. “Now I’m afraid I’m going to start thumping my leg like my old bunny.”