by Sonya Clark
She brushed her hair from her eyes and looked up at him, biting her lip. “You look the same.” One corner of her mouth curved up just enough to unclench the bundle of nerves in his stomach.
“Your hair’s purple again.”
Tensing noticeably, she took two steps away and crossed her arms over her chest. Two men and a woman walked past, all of them eyeballing Calla, one of them nodding in greeting. She returned the nod then dropped her eyes to the ground. The passersby looked Magic Born, the younger ones easier for Nate to identify by their glamoured tattoos and patched clothing.
Calla wasn’t comfortable being seen with him. It hurt, but he could understand, what with everything he’d been told about the usual nature of relationships between Normals and Magic Born. “Look, I don’t know what to do here. I don’t know whether to ask you if you’d like to go get dinner or if you want to go home. Or if you’d come home with me. I don’t want to insult you and I don’t want to hurt your feelings.” He stepped closer and placed his hand on her elbow. “So you tell me what you want. Okay?”
“I want to know what you want.” It didn’t sound like she meant in terms of dinner.
He was beginning to realize just how remarkable it was for her to break all her own rules and risk getting involved with him. “I want you to come home with me. I want us to have dinner and talk. I want you to stay as long as you want, as long as you can, and when you leave I want to know that we’ll see each other again. How does that sound?”
Another tentative smile broke through the clouds of her mood. “Got anything decent to eat?”
He winced. “Depends on your definition of decent.”
“Good thing I’m so hungry I won’t care.” She started walking. Filled with relief, he followed.
They said little on the way. She didn’t relax until inside his apartment. He hastily prepared two frozen dinners, too nervous to be embarrassed at what crappy food he had to offer. Cooking had never been his thing. The table ready, he went back to the living room to call her to eat.
She stood in front of the entertainment center, her hand hovering in front of the display, swaying slightly as if to music. Her back was to him. He watched for nearly a full minute, both her movements and the display. The screen stayed dark, mostly. A few times it looked almost like it lit up with tiny flashes of color, but they were too quick for him to be sure.
The last thing he’d used on the console was the music system. He would bet his badge she was listening to it right now.
At some point he wanted to talk to her about his suspicions, if she could ever trust him enough.
He stepped back into the kitchen doorway, keeping his eyes down. “Calla, you ready to eat?”
She dropped her hand and whirled around, mouth in a wide smile. “Yes! I’m starving. What gourmet fare do you have to impress me with?”
“Frozen burritos and rice. Sound good?”
“I’ve had worse.” Leaving her bag on the couch, she crossed the room.
As she reached the doorway, he blocked it with one arm. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Pale cheeks staining a light rose, she stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, then ducked under his arm and entered the kitchen. He followed, smiling.
Chapter Twenty
Calla sat on the floor next to Nate, their backs to the couch and the leftover pieces from her afternoon in the bazaar spread between them. She picked up another bracelet and held it up for him to see. “All these different shades of blue and the little seed pearls, this is a water based design. The element of water is about healing and purifying, the subconscious...lots of intangible stuff like that. If this were enchanted you would use it in a healing spell and wear it if you were sick or had chronic migraines or something like that. Or maybe if you were trying to understand or just better remember your dreams, or heal from something that was manifesting in recurring nightmares. There’s lots of things you could do with this.”
“And here I thought it was just pretty.” Nate had his arm across the couch, fingers occasionally rifling her hair.
She returned that one to the floor and selected another. “I like the moon charms on this one. They show the four phases of the moon. Three silver pieces representing waxing, full, and waning, and this little onyx circle to represent the dark moon. This one’s a nice, steady money maker for me.”
“How’s that?”
“Do you know how trade works between zones and various craft suppliers?”
“No clue.” He gathered a handful of pieces and placed them on the tray that lay next to her bag on the couch, then moved closer.
“Okay, I buy stuff like this either at the Craft Emporium in FreakTown—remember that place?” He nodded, so she continued. “Or I buy from vendors in the bazaar. There’s a section in the far north corner that’s for artisans only. We can buy supplies there and we also sell our finished goods to traders who can travel to other zones and other cities.”
“They Normal?”
“Well, yeah. Have to be. They have to get a special business license to work with us. Anyway, this bracelet is pretty popular in all the zones, so I’m always making more.”
He took the bracelet, turning it to examine each phase of the moon. “Dancing with the Goddess under the full moon.”
The memory of dancing with him that night heated her blood. “Mmm. Yeah.” She reached for the bracelet. “Sometimes I think it’s slowly coming back, the old Goddess worship ways. Not that it was ever the only religion of anybody Magic Born. There were plenty of monotheists and God-types rounded up too, just for having magic in their blood. Religion didn’t really matter. I think getting rid of fringe stuff like that was a happy accident for the people pushing for the laws.” She tossed the moon phase bracelet on the tray, then gathered a few more pieces to do the same. “But you know, no matter what your people were before that blood test, once the test sends you to a zone, the Magic Born are your people.”
“Is every full moon at Sinsuality like that?”
“A different woman is chosen to stand as priestess every month, but yeah, pretty much.”
“Do you go every month?”
“I used to. Kind of got out of the habit.”
Nate lowered his head to nuzzle her neck. “We’ll go to the next one,” he murmured, breath tickling her skin.
Closing her eyes partway, she let herself enjoy the slow burn he was building. “You’re awfully curious. It’s kind of weird for a Normal.”
“Is it?” His lips skated from the bottom of her jaw to the hollow of her throat. “I just want to know you.”
Calla did her best to laugh that off. “Yeah, definitely weird.” After gathering the rest of the jewelry, she dumped it on the tray and swiveled around to pack it away, sitting on her knees.
Nate situated himself behind her, the feel of his chest against her back bringing a wash of memories of the night before. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep a moan from slipping out. He held out the wrist on which he wore the bracelet of hers he’d bought. “Is there any significance to this?”
Giggling, she said, “Oh, you bet. The silver means I’ll get a very nice commission when I get paid by the shop at the end of the month. The onyx means I’ll be eating better than frozen burritos when I do get paid.”
He bit the side of her neck, just hard enough to send bolts of electricity straight to the core of her desire. “You don’t like my food I’m sure I’ve got something else that’ll satisfy you.”
Calla used the couch as leverage to push him backward and wrestle him to the floor. Not that he put up any kind of fight to keep her from straddling him. She pulled his shirt from his waistband and made short work of the buttons, then leaned over to kiss him, brushing her lips over his. She teased and tormented and denied him entrance to her mouth until she got a growl out of him. He c
upped the back of her head to pull her down, forcing his tongue past her lips. The sweet invasion turned her bones to liquid. The solidity of his big body carried her as she melted into a near-trance state.
His skin was warm and slightly salty as she kissed her way down his chest. She planted her lips deliberately on the flat, coin-sized center of his scar tissue. His breathing grew labored, his hazel eyes darkening with a mix of lust and something she couldn’t identify. She continued downward, leaving a trail of wet kisses on the skin above his waistband, feeling his erection straining against the fabric.
Calla slithered down his body and opened his pants. Propping himself on his elbows, he watched her every move. Good. She wanted to see the look on his face in the next moments. Curving her lips into a smile, she let her hair tease his flesh. Starting at the base, she flattened her tongue against his shaft and dragged it slowly, so very slowly, up to the head. Never breaking eye contact, she took the head in her mouth and sucked lightly. Then she took just a little bit more of him and sucked harder, hard enough to make him hiss. He wore an expression of complete sexual surrender, like nothing she’d ever seen on a man before, raw and full of need. She’d give him just what he needed.
She used her tongue to bathe the head with attention before taking him as deeply in her mouth as she could. As his cock grew harder and she moved up and down, her own arousal threatened to derail her intentions.
Abruptly he sat up and pulled her into his lap. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she said, “What’s wrong? I thought you liked it.”
He dragged her blouse over her head and fumbled with her pants. “Oh God yeah, I liked it! My control is for shit right now.”
She stood, tossing aside her bra, pants and underwear as he struggled out of his clothes. She retrieved a condom from an inside pocket of her bag then returned to straddling his lap, taking his cock in one hand. Handing him the condom, she said, “See if you can open this.” Inching herself up on her knees and forward to get closer to him, she rubbed the head of his cock against her entrance, moaning as she worked it on her clit.
He dropped the condom and clutched her thighs, bucking into her hand. A dizzying swirl of sensation lit fireworks behind her half-closed eyelids. She whispered his name as her free hand searched blindly for the condom. Finding it, she slapped it against his chest. “Hurry up with this, Detective.” Smiling, she met his eyes. “My control is for shit right now.”
Within moments he was ready and pulling her close. She steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders, teasing him one last time before bringing her hips down to envelop him. The slide of his heat into hers sent shockwaves through her, calling to magic that wanted out to play. She clamped down hard on the instinct, afraid going too far would spook Nate. Instead she concentrated on the physical, gliding up and down on his shaft as she had earlier with her mouth.
He moved his hands up her back, hooking them on her shoulders from behind. He kissed her throat, her jawline, plundering her mouth in rhythm with their bodies. She clung to him, riding out the storm without thought.
Later they lay curled together on the floor, her head on his shoulder and her fingertips caressing his scars. “Did this happen in Africa?”
“Yeah.” He sounded half asleep. “My second tour in the Congo.”
“And you went back for a third tour?”
“It looks worse than it was. I never had the money for plastic surgery to get rid of the scars.”
She sat up, arms on either side of him. “I should go.”
Stroking one arm, he said, “How much time have you got left?”
“A few hours, but I want to go now. I don’t want to risk falling asleep and missing my deadline.” That was close to a lie. It wasn’t the first night they’d spent together, but she felt too open, too vulnerable. Better to go home, no matter how tempting it was to stay.
A stab of anger broke through the haze of pleasure still wrapped around her. She tried to shove it in a corner and ignore it. It wasn’t his fault. She began to gather her clothes and get dressed.
He climbed to his feet and found his pants. “I almost forgot. I got something for you.”
Calla froze. This time it was fear that threatened the fragile bit of happiness trying to dig its way under her skin. She stayed silent as she searched for her shoes.
Nate ducked into the kitchen for a moment, returning quickly with a small, colorful gift bag. She recognized it, of course—he’d carried it home from the bazaar. She had assumed it was for someone else, hopefully his mother or some friend and not another lover. Calla doubted he was seeing someone else; he didn’t seem the type to get involved with more than one woman at a time. Still, she didn’t know for sure and didn’t know how to ask.
“This made me think of you so I got it for you.” He held out the bag, looking as unsure of himself as she felt.
Reluctantly she took it and peered inside. She recognized the work immediately, pulling out the scarf for a better look.
“It made me think of your hair. When you glamour it.”
She brought the scarf to her face, feeling the gentle hum of energy that had gone into creating the pattern.
“Do you like it?” He stepped closer, worry creasing his brow. “If you don’t, it’s okay. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I don’t know yet what you like or how you feel about gifts so if you don’t—”
She cut him off with a kiss, simultaneously standing on tiptoe and pulling him down. “It’s beautiful,” she said, and she kissed him again. “Thank you.”
Disengaging quickly, not wanting him to see her face, she wrapped the scarf around her neck and tied it loosely. She found her shoes on the other side of the couch and slipped them on, then picked up her bag. Feeling more composed, she faced him smiling. “Gotta go.”
“You don’t have any kind of phone, do you?”
“There’s a landline in the store. Shilpa lets me use it whenever I want.”
He found a notepad and pen and scribbled hastily. “This is my cell number. Will you call me? You know I want to keep seeing you.”
“I know. I just don’t know what we think we’re doing.” It was too soon for reality to set in, wasn’t it? Couldn’t she have a little time with him before the world made her give him up?
He gathered her in his arms. “I don’t either, and to be honest I don’t want to think too much right now. I just want us to be. Can we do that? I mean, I know we’re going to have to deal with certain things at some point, but for right now, can’t we just be?”
That sounded like bliss. Maybe the ignorant kind, but Calla decided to take it with both hands and hold tight, at least for now. “I’ll call you in a few days.” She kissed him.
“Call me tomorrow.”
Laughing, she broke away and headed for the door. “Good night, Nate.”
He followed her to the door and kissed her once more, murmuring good-night. It took force of will to get herself out the door.
Once she reached street level, she ducked into an alley, checking for cameras. Finding none, she crafted a glamour to help her blend in with the surroundings. She didn’t anticipate any trouble getting home, but almost getting shot had a way of making a person overly cautious.
She kept one hand on the scarf the whole way.
Chapter Twenty-One
Time had little meaning for Nate over the next several weeks. At least not any time spent away from Calla. Days at work were a blur. For the first time in his life, he cared little for his job. It was nothing more than the hours between kissing Calla goodbye and kissing her hello. At first they holed up in either his apartment or hers, hidden from prying eyes as they tried to create a comfortable space in which to be. A lot of laughter, a lot of sex—good God, a lot of sex—but they also spent plenty of time on varied attempts to get to know each other past their legal st
atus of Normal and Magic Born. Sometimes they fought, usually when things were getting too good. Like Calla couldn’t bear the thought of being too happy and having it ripped away. He knew she saw an end as inevitable. He refused to see any future, wanting to hold on to now.
One of the many subjects he had to tread carefully on was magic. She was still reluctant to answer too many questions. So he found himself spending a late lunch hour hunched over his tablet searching websites for information. Everything he found read like old propaganda. It occurred to him there might have been a time when he would have accepted the fear that was a given in the old information, the outrageous exaggerations and the ugly stereotypes. But none of it fit with what he’d seen in FreakTown and the bazaar, and it certainly didn’t fit with Calla.
What she’d told him about keeping the Magic Born in urban areas in an attempt to sever their connection with nature, or at least weaken it considerably, was covered extensively in the history of the implementation of the Magic Laws. Decades ago Congress had listened to all kinds of “expert” testimony, all of it from people in favor of segregating the Magic Born. Skimming some of it, familiar stuff leaped out. Unholy, ungodly, unnatural—that one made him laugh. Placing nature above God, manipulating dark forces, lewd and licentious. He couldn’t argue with that last one after what they’d done two nights before. The sort of extreme religiosity on display in the old testimony had thankfully petered out, but the Magic Laws and the fears that fueled them had stayed.
Magic fascinated him, almost as much as Calla did, and that worried him. While stationed in Kenya and even the Congo he’d seen other soldiers get into relationships with locals. For some it was just a balm to loneliness and being so far from home. Some, though, became deeply involved not only with their partners but with the culture as well. Sometimes it was hard to tell if the interest was genuine or just a sort of cultural tourism. Nate didn’t want to treat Calla like some exotic pet. He didn’t want to treat magic like some anthropology study or even worse, like some bizarre playground. Plenty of the Normals who trawled Sinsuality looking for a Magic Born lover were nothing more than dilettantes seeking out experience. They wanted to play, to have something to brag about with their friends. Like Vadim had said, they were looking to add color to their black-and-white worlds. Since going to the club with Calla, Nate had seen that for himself, and knew it was the last thing he wanted to see in the mirror.