He knelt down next to her and asked, “Are you okay?”
She attempted to roll to sitting but quickly decided against it and lay back down. After a few minutes she tried again, taking his hand as he helped her to standing. He steadied her as she started to sway back. “That was a hell of a punch.” She attempted to smile but seemed too weak to fully commit to it. Several moments passed before he seemed to be confident that she could stand on her own. He took several steps away. At the same time they both looked at my arm. When her eyes widened, it was the first time I actually looked at it.
The pain had wrapped around my arm and the constant intensity of it had made me numb to it. Blood ran down it, the skin open from where claws had raked across it. I couldn’t remember when it happened. With the endorphins gone and the adrenaline high slaked, the throbbing was noticeable. A deep thump that felt like someone was plucking at my nerves like a string instrument and beating on my muscles like a drum. I clenched my jaw. The numbed state was over and the pain came back—hard. It was nearly unbearable. I didn’t know which one hurt more: a vampire bite or shapeshifter’s scratch. I was quite ashamed I knew what they both felt like and the experiences came within the span of a week.
“Let me do a healing spell,” Blu offered, taking my arm. She wavered a little, and Gareth was at her side in seconds.
“Are you strong enough?” he asked.
Moving in slow measured steps, each one looking painful and difficult, she examined the arm. “I will not be able to heal it completely, I am just too weak, but I can definitely keep her from going to the Isles.”
Oh that place again. Again something I hadn’t experienced until this week. She continued to hold my arm and directed Gareth to get the supplies. He lit the candle, she marked the area with a creamy substance, and then with a simple invocation, the skin drew together, a light mess of connected tissue formed over it, a fresh layer of skin left in its place. And it cooled, reducing the throbbing to a light tolerable ache.
She slumped against the wall. Her voice was light and wispy, barely audible. “I can’t do any more. Can you come back tomorrow when I’m stronger?”
Although I agreed I didn’t think it was a good idea. Obviously someone didn’t want her to help me retrieve that memory. The big question was who and why. I bet if I followed the trail to who, I’d find out the why. Just as I did at the Haven, I started cataloging all the ways I wanted to make them pay for doing this to me.
Gareth helped her up and took her out of the room. He was so gentle as he handled her it made me think that they were probably more than just friends. When he left the room I busied myself with looking at all the things around it. The various herbs, charms, and dozens of spell books in the bookcases that lined the walls. I took note of all the symbols that marked the walls and probably wards. Strong enough to keep a weaker mage out and other witches and even faes, but not a strong mage and definitely not a shifter. And that was strong mage magic that I’d felt. After Jonathan’s stunt the other day, I knew what it felt like. You only need to feel magic once to be able to identify it— or at least by type. I’d been around Kalen so much that I could identify fae magic easily. With the exception of the mage Tracker I encountered a year ago, I hadn’t actively been around mage magic. What mage was involved, and why had they set me up? How were they controlling shapeshifters? The Legacy were the only ones who had the power to do so, and I was the only Legacy in the city. Could there be someone else with the ability? Another supernatural? I considered all the possibilities. Like all things, magic goes through evolutionary changes. Had mages’ abilities evolved to include necromancy? Or had necromancers’ magic advanced to not only have rule over the dead, but animals as well?
Gareth didn’t seem entirely convinced when I told him I thought a mage was involved. We managed to wash some of the blood off before leaving the witch’s house. But there were still traces of it on us. We needed showers.
“Why do you think it’s a mage?”
“Because if Blu is as strong as you say she is there is no way she shouldn’t have been able to counter the attack.”
I couldn’t tell him that the magic I felt was similar to Jonathan’s. Then I realized that Gareth could scent magic but wasn’t able to type it, which was good for me. However, it wouldn’t have been any use if he could if he’d never encountered a Legacy; he would never be able to pinpoint the magic. He would only know what type of magic it wasn’t.
He sat in silent contemplation, his strongly hewn features clenched as he drove down the streets.
“By the way, nice … lion?” I said, looking in his direction, still having a difficult time accepting the type of animal he’d turned into.
“You’ve never seen a lion before?” he asked with a half-smirk, his gaze flashing in my direction. The shifter ring around his eyes twinkled indigo.
“I’ve seen a lion before. I’ve seen a lion shifter before, too. What you turned into was the unholy union of a lion and a dragon.”
“Wouldn’t I have scales and breathe fire?”
“Okay, a lion and a big bear?”
“What type of bear? A lion is larger than some bears.”
I chuckled. “Okay, lion and elephant.”
“Did you see a trunk?” His voice was mocking.
I expelled an exasperated breath. “I don’t want to play guess-the-mutated-cat with you. Why are you so damn big?”
A deep chuckle reverberated in his chest, and a smile bloomed. “Well, that definitely is not the first time a woman has asked me that, either.”
I pressed my lips into a thin line and forced silence, trying to ignore the amusement he found in his salacious joke. It didn’t help. “Dirty jokes from Mr. Head of Supernatural Guild and Almighty Magical Council Member?”
“You flatter me.” He grinned. “I think I’m a lot less important than you’ve made me out to be. But, I must point out, you made it dirty. I pointed out an observation,” he said, hitting me with yet another sinful grin.
He was quite the wordsmith. Refusing to be redirected, I continued with my questioning. “You’re not a lion, so what are you?”
“Panthera leo spelaea or in layman’s terms, cave lion.”
I let the words roll around in my head before I said, “Those are extinct.”
He shrugged, shooting a teasing look in my direction. But I was trying to focus on the view outside because I caught myself focusing too much on the view inside—him. “Okay, then what you saw was just a figment of your imagination. That’s why I never believe things are extinct. I’m proof of it. If I ever see that dinosaur, I’ll let you know.”
Gareth took a route to my house that I wasn’t familiar with, and when he passed the exit to my apartment I asked, “Where are we going?”
“I can’t possibly take you home looking like that. I don’t believe I received anything less than ten calls a day from her when you were at the Haven. And thanks for telling her that I threatened to jail you. The only thing worse than an attorney is their kid. She doesn’t seem to grasp that the rules are different. She is tenacious.”
“Try living with her. Have you ever had kale chips—yeah, that’s a treat in my home. And she keeps trying to get me to join the Bikram cult.”
“That’s yoga.”
I looked in his direction, my eyes suspicious. “They got to you, too. All I know is that she goes there every day and when she comes home she has a strange look in her eyes. She forsakes all just to go to their meetings. She worships at the feet of the idol Lululemon . You say yoga, and I say cult.”
He laughed, and again I found myself staring at him. And once again I pulled my attention from him and focused on something else. The new surroundings that I hadn’t seen before. An area of the city that I hadn’t been to. Just when I was about to ask where we were going he made a turn, drove to a gate, and swiped a card. We wound around a vacant curvy street, passing blocks of sylvan groves.
“Where are we?”
“My home. You c
an clean up and get some food and we can talk about today.”
“Shouldn’t you be doing that with the people at the Guild?”
He studied me for a moment, long and hard. Then he frowned, deep creases forming around his brow and lips. He rubbed his fingers over his lips and more time passed before he spoke. “I can do both. At what point should I be offended that you hate being around me?”
“Hate is a pretty strong word. Call me crazy, but I have a problem being around people who threaten to lock me up.”
“I’ve only threatened once.” He dismissed my point with a wave of his hand. “Ms. Michaels, you seem to be in the middle of this case. Everything leads to you, so I do believe it is important that I question you. As much as you don’t like”—his bemused gaze fastened on me——“or pretend not to enjoy being around me, you should get used to it. You’d be surprised how many women aren’t bothered by it.”
We drove up the driveway and into the garage of a tan mid-century modern home. I followed him up the stairs into an open and spacious floor plan. Recessed lighting gave off a hint of a glow. Floor to ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the thick lush forest that reminded me of the jungle. Large trees crowded the area and were just several feet from the house. A small opening in the bundle of poplars and oaks revealed carefully placed rocks that formed a waterfall that streamed into a pool.
I wasn’t sure how long I was standing there admiring the breathtaking sight. But my attention was fixed when Gareth came up behind me, his chest against my back, so close I could feel the heat that radiated off it. His scent inundated the space that we shared. I had to remind myself over and over of who he was, what he was, and where he worked. It became a mantra.
It didn’t help. I turned, and we were close, just inches away from each other. Our eyes met and neither one of us made the effort to look away. All I had to do was lift my head and our lips would touch. Just as I was about to, he jerked his eyes from mine and looked at the yard. “You know you don’t have to go out there to clean up, I have a shower here,” he said and nudged me toward the right and guided me down the hall. We passed an office with a large desk similar to the one he had at the Guild. The built-in library was filled with leather-bound books, I assumed first editions or collector’s editions but I only had a chance to glance at them in passing. Surprisingly, the only thing that decorated the tan walls were windows. The home was fully furnished in various hues of deep brown and dark green with mahogany furniture, but with his walls he took a minimalistic approach. No pictures, just occasionally an oddly placed collection of metal art.
He led me to the bathroom. “You can just toss your clothes out here. There’s a clean robe and t-shirt if you like.”
I showered in what had to be the most luxurious bathroom I’d seen in my life. It should have been a quick shower, but it turned into nearly twenty minutes. My body ached, and the warm water felt good against my skin. By the time I was showered, I felt more human and less like shapeshifter fodder.
Walking down the hall toward the kitchen where I heard Gareth, I fought the urge to snoop and only peaked into the rooms whose doors were open enough for me to glance in. He had a style, but I wasn’t sure what you’d call it. Maybe expensive furniture-earth tone-leave me alone chic.
He stood at the kitchen sink, wistfully looking out of a large window into the jungle. He seemed like he’d rather be there than anywhere. And at that moment, I was fully aware what I was next to: a predator, the carnal primitive nature rolling off him. Man and beast forced into a symbiotic relationship. Before I considered it a mutual acceptance and infinity, but at the moment, I wondered. He looked at the area with the appreciation and longing of a person seeing it for the first time. I saw the beauty, but didn’t have the same love for forest and trees. It was where we hid, trying to throw off whatever Tracker was hunting us that day and making it difficult for them to find us. It was where I learned fear, as I felt it rise and thrive in my parents. The woods and caves were where I learned to fight, to use my magic that I was forbidden to use out in the world where others could openly use theirs. It was in the woods, hiding, hoping not to be murdered, where my parents were given the daunting task of explaining to a five-year-old why she was reviled and would be hunted and hurt for the evils of others. It was there my parents tried to explain how someone else’s thirst for power ruined and changed my life. Most of the time I pushed the memories back because they made my chest tight, captured my breath, and sullied my mood.
Gareth turned and his gaze slipped in my direction before he moved past me, his hand slipping over my back. I became more aware of how close he was, the warmth of his touch searing through the light fabric of the cotton robe. He’d showered, too; a hint of soap lingered on his skin and his white t-shirt was still slightly damp from where he hadn’t dried completely. The soft fabric hugged the delineated curves of his chest and abs. Stop staring. I was giving myself the same command I’d given each time we went to Crimson.
He went to the fridge and pulled out two bottles of water and handed me one. Water was nice, but the type of day I’d had, something with a little more bite would have been better. Maybe he could tell it by the disappointed look my face, or he felt that way, too, because he took a drink from his bottle and then pulled out two ales. He handed me one and placed another on the table and ducked back into the refrigerator. “Let’s see what Leslie left for dinner.”
Since I had no idea who Leslie was and why she was leaving food for him, I figured he was talking to himself. He pulled out several containers: macaroni and cheese—yum, gravy—what’s the gravy for? And some type of chicken—Jerk—I think.
“Who’s Leslie?”
He warmed the food in the microwave, then grabbed two plates, silverware, serving spoon. “She’s the woman who helps out around the house, cooks, cleans, makes sure I don’t burn it down,” he grinned. “I’m not much of a cook.”
“She takes care of you? So she’s your nanny?” My lips quivered, making a poor attempt to stop the smile.
He let the slight roll over him and shrugged. “I call her the house manager, but I guess nanny is apropos, too. She’s been with me since I was a child. I dare you to call her anything other than house manager.” He took a long draw from his ale.
We sat at the kitchen table. Ignoring my frown of disgust, he poured gravy over his macaroni and cheese and then shoved a forkful in his mouth. When the frown wouldn’t ease, he grabbed my fork, put some on it, and put it to my mouth. “Try it.”
I shook my head and tightened my lips. I didn’t come from the school of not knocking something until I’ve tried it. And I didn’t think gravy-covered macaroni was going to change me.
His lips pulled into a rigid line and mimicked mine in intensity. His defiant scowl remained. It was an odd time to have a battle of wills. I considered smacking his hand away, but I was sure that wasn’t going to deter him. Crinkling my nose, I ate only half of what was on the fork. I had to win at least half the battle. He placed the fork on my plate. I ignored it in place of eating the jerk chicken, which may have easily been the best thing I’d ever tasted.
After taking a long drink from his ale he asked, “How did you know that there was someone else performing magic?”
Ah, now I see why I have the ale. To weaken my inhibition. I was a woman who drank whisky straight, no chasers, and he would have to do better than apple juice with a kick.
“Asked and answered earlier,” I pointed out.
He nodded slowly, still sipping on his drink. “Yes I did. Why did you think that the magic went wrong? Or was there an inhibitor that was keeping her from getting to the memory? You automatically went to other magic. It’s odd that you did.”
He leaned into the table, his light blue eyes flooded with curiosity and that shapeshifter glint that was often a dead giveaway. “You are peculiar to me.” He leaned back against his chair and crossed his arms.
“What’s so peculiar about me?” I challenged.
In silence he continued to study me. I ignored him and concentrated on the food in front of me. After several more bites I took a drink from the ale, pushed the plate forward, and leaned against the table, watching him with the same intensity he had watched me just seconds ago. I hated this game we had to play. I just wanted to find out who set me up, who was able to control vampires, and who had the type of magic that could control shapeshifters, because that was a very powerful and very dangerous person. The gnawing started to spread through me, and for the first time, as much as I hated it, I understood why people wanted us dead. That kind of power was scary, it was dangerous, and if it couldn’t be controlled, it could lead to something catastrophic. For a brief moment I shared the same concern as others. But I wasn’t that danger, I didn’t thirst for power. My magic wasn’t catastrophic. I just wanted to be normal and not be hunted or have to worry about being killed if someone found out who I was.
I had to decide if I trusted Gareth with my secret. Did he have an oath he had to adhere to? I knew very little about him. Did he feel the same way others did? If I told him then what I was, what would he do? When I looked at him this time I studied him with a different interest, trying to interpret and understand how deep the predator lay. How intrinsic was the animal that he shared? How dedicated was he to holding up the laws of the guild and the very covenant that bound humans and supernaturals together? Oddly we were that link to their alliance. It was based on a mutual hate and a desire for destruction if we were ever found.
A wayward smile settled on his lips, and enhanced his features, and it was hard to deny Gareth was a handsome man. Denying it didn’t make it go away.
“I think humans can detect magic,” he admitted. “I think the subtle nuances. It’s that gut feeling that makes you believe someone is different, that ache inside of you. They might not be able to pinpoint it, but they know. When I walk in I think people know I’m a shapeshifter or at the very least know that I am different.”
Double-Sided Magic (Legacy Series Book 1) Page 12