by Nova Nelson
“I did say that. But never underestimate my ability to avoid people.”
“And you want me to help you put a stop to this spell?”
I plastered a dumb grin on my face. “Yes, please.”
He stared down at the ground and rubbed the back of his neck. “Why? Why not just let people have a second chance? Maybe it’ll work out and, sure, things will be different than they were before the spell, but that doesn’t mean they’ll be worse. Sometimes all someone needs is a second chance.”
I leaned back, eyeing him skeptically. “Tell that to Tanner. Or any of the other people in Eastwind who are happily in their first ever relationship and would have to watch their partner run back to something that didn’t work the first time and is only held together by magic.” Something was off with him. Since when was Landon sentimental? “What’s going on? I almost get the sense you don’t want to help.”
He rolled his shoulders back and looked at me directly. “Yeah, well, maybe that’s because I don’t see the point.”
“You don’t see the …”
“Night, Nora. Good luck.”
The door shut behind him before I knew what else to say. “Night,” I murmured, even though he wouldn’t hear it.
Putting my back to his porch, I strolled away from his house and toward Fulcrum Park at the center of town.
What now? I was all out of leads, Landon was a bust, and Tanner was still at work. Jane would be no help in her current state. Maybe Eva?
No, Nora. Just take a break. It can wait until the morning.
Could it, though?
I wasn’t in a hurry to call it a night, and not just because I wasn’t sure Ezra’s silencing spell he’d promised to use would hold up.
Going home meant time with Roland.
Sure, Tanner had given me a pass on the things I couldn’t control, but even still, my conscience was nagging at me about the sundry delights I’d thus far enjoyed with someone who wasn’t my boyfriend, even if they weren’t technically real.
Going home was out of the question. My anxiety spurred me on to keep going, keep trying to get to the bottom of it. I needed help from someone with more knowledge of magic than me who hadn’t already brushed me off.
Then it occurred to me. It was after nine o’clock. Where could I find half of Eastwind at this time of night? Surely, someone there would have some helpful insight to keep the search going.
With my mind made up, I changed directions.
But as soon as I entered Sheehan’s Pub and paused to take a look around, I realized I’d made a grave error in judgment.
Chapter Sixteen
It didn’t occur to me that it was a Friday night until I saw just how many people were inside Sheehan’s Pub.
An ordinary Friday night was rowdy enough, with the occasional brawl and a crying meltdown here and there. How would this work when all of Eastwind, so far as I knew, was under a powerful enchantment and the Winds of Change were rolling through?
I touched my pocket where I’d tucked my wand, concealed in one of my overcoat’s big pockets. While I doubted I would need to use Gabby Bloom’s spell, it was nice to know I had it available.
I scanned the room again, and nothing seemed to be especially out of place.
Sure, there were a handful more amorous looks ricocheting between people who had no business looking at each other that way. And, yeah, there were a few pairings of people whose spouses probably wouldn’t have appreciated the proximity, but at present, it was harmless. All look and no touch.
Okay, maybe some touch. But minimal touch.
I searched for an open seat at the bar, but there was none. I did, however, spot Darius Pine, who almost never left Fluke Mountain, at one of the barstools. He leaned his elbows on the bar, propping up his head with a fist as he stared shamelessly at Fiona Sheehan.
She returned the attention, an unwholesome gleam in her eye as she wiped down a glass, drying it in slow strokes.
Probably best not to bother those two.
A more wholesome sight was only a table away from them. Zoe cupped her hands around her pint on the table and gabbed emphatically to Oliver, who watched her like he was hearing a bird sing for the first time. The idea that Oliver was Zoe’s first relationship seemed highly unlikely. She’d probably had plenty back in Avalon before she came to Eastwind, so the fact that she was still clearly interested in him and hadn’t taken the 6:47 a.m. train back home as soon as the spell set in presented the distinct possibility that the spell didn’t extend to other realms.
Except that didn’t really work with Liberty, did it? He’d had a string of exes prior to arriving in Eastwind, presumably back in Zatrian, and his slip-up had made it clear that they were fresh on his mind.
So, did the magic cross realms or not? Either there was a piece of information missing, or I was making an incorrect assumption about Zoe’s history. I needed to figure out if Zoe Clementine had relationships prior to Eastwind, and if so, were they fresh on her mind?
I didn’t want to linger by the door, but I wasn’t sure where I should go. I needed to find a friendly face to stand around with, or at least someone who might be able to provide more answers about this spell.
I spotted both on the far side of the room, over by the scufflepuck table.
Ted and Count Sebastian Malavic were locked in intense conversation, Ted with a pint in his hand, Malavic with a glass of red wine. At first, I wondered what on earth they could be talking about to make them stand that closely together. But then a new theory blossomed …
Had I missed the signs this whole time? They’d certainly both been in Eastwind for longer than just about anyone. They were old friends, bound together in a strange tango of death and undeath, but could there have been a matter of months or even years where they were more than friends?
Snap out of it, Nora.
Ted and Malavic? Yeah, no way. Ted was too dead, and Malavic was … Well, I could see the appeal, sure, and apparently Ruby had seen the appeal, too. But like Oliver had said, it was unlikely the count would have anything more than a physical or mutually destructive relationship with anyone.
As if sensing my eyes, the two men turned toward me. Malavic offered up his signature fissure-like grin, and Ted waved wildly, motioning for me to go join them.
Oh, sure, what the heck? A round of scufflepuck might do well to clear my head, and who knew what I could learn from them that might help me.
I made it only two more steps further inside before my eyes found the back of a familiar head, and a tightly coiled spring in my stomach was released.
He turned, and I knew too late that I was in trouble.
Donovan’s eyes locked onto mine, and everything that had happened between us, all the things I’d wanted to happen between us, leaped to the edges of my vision. I felt dizzy, off-balance. Then I felt like I was sinking farther and farther into a deep ocean and there was only one chance of reaching the surface again. The other chair at Donovan’s table was empty, like he’d been waiting for someone. For me?
He stood abruptly, and before I could stop myself, I did an about-face and exited Sheehan’s.
You might be thinking I’d made an admirable decision, one that demonstrated a level of self-restraint you didn’t think was possible for me. You might think I was leaving to avoid something inappropriate transpiring.
You’d be wrong.
I knew Donovan would follow me, and by the time I’d rounded the corner and entered the alley behind the pub, he’d caught up.
This was it, our perfect spot. We’d been here before, and now all I wanted was to replay every bad decision I’d narrowly avoided, course correcting and making up for lost time.
He wanted it, too. I could feel that pulsing off him in shockwaves.
I didn’t say a word, and neither did he. He simply grabbed my arms at the wrists and pinned them to the bricks before pressing me against the wall with the rest of his body.
Part of me wanted to struggle, to break fr
ee from him, to leave and not look back.
But mostly, I was relieved to be able to let go and see where this led. I finally had an excuse. I couldn’t fight the love spell, could I? I might as well give in.
His lips hovered an inch away from mine, torturously close.
“What are you waiting for?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he breathed. “Just want to soak this in. I know we agreed to just be friends, but these past couple days … I can’t stop thinking about you. I knew the second I saw you in there that this would happen, and I almost can’t believe it.”
“For fang’s sake, Donovan,” I said. “Stop talking.”
He tightened his grip around my wrists, and just before I shut my eyes to savor the touch of his soft, hungry lips, something bright appeared behind him.
His lips found mine for a fraction of a second before I was able to wiggle free.
“I told you to stay in my bedroom!” I shouted.
Donovan stumbled back, shocked. I wasn’t talking to him, though.
Roland shook his head slowly. “How can I just sit around there when I know another man is putting his paws on my woman?”
“I’m not your woman, Roland. Siren’s song! I should have anchored you a long time ago.”
I knew the shock of his appearance was the only thing keeping my head above water with the spell, and the jolt wouldn’t last long. I needed to clean up this mess, get the heck out of there, and fast, while I still had a chance.
Donovan searched the air for the other half of my conversation. “Who is Roland?” he asked. “Wait, is it a ghost? Are you having an affair with a ghost?”
“I’m not having … I don’t know what I’m doing,” I spat. Memories jumbled together and swirled. The spell was soaking in again, making it hard to think. Moments I’d shared with Roland suddenly seemed like moments I’d shared with Donovan. I dug my palms into my eyes. “I can’t think straight with the two of you here!”
“Ignore him,” Donovan said. He touched my arm, and I opened my eyes. When I looked back at Roland, Donovan sidestepped to block my view. “He’s a ghost. I’m real.”
“None of this is real,” I said. “Not what we’re feeling, at least.”
“Nora,” Donovan warned, “we’ve been over this. It’s more than residual feelings from the connection ritual. What I feel for you is nothing if not real.”
I shook my arm free. “No, it’s not. Maybe some of it is real, but the intensity you’re feeling, the intensity that we’re both feeling, it’s just magic. Someone’s cast a love spell over Eastwind to make everyone fall back into the arms of past loves.”
He nodded as if he understood then took a step closer. “Great. I’m in.”
Oh boy … this was not good.
Roland moved closer now, too, and it was only through sheer confusion of magnetism that I managed to keep from picking up with Donovan where we’d left off.
“Diana, love, don’t debase yourself with this man. He’s not meant for you. I am.”
“At least he’s alive,” I snapped. It was a challenge. I’d thrown down the gauntlet without thinking. It was almost as if my Insight, equally ensnared in the spell as the rest of me, had done it for me.
I shoved a startled Donovan aside to make space for Roland. The memory of the night before when I’d inexplicably felt the warmth of his hand on my face spurred me on. I closed my eyes and imagined him there. Not on a cliff staring into the North Atlantic, but right in front of me in the alley behind Sheehan’s Pub. In my world. In my mind’s eye, he was solid, his skin a creamy peach, his eyes turquoise and full of moonlight. I reached out, put my hand on his cheek and felt heat, but I didn’t open my eyes.
He stepped closer, tilting his head forward, and I felt his warm forehead against mine just as he placed a hand at the nape of my neck. All solid, all real. Still, my eyes stayed closed. I worried that if I opened them, this would slip away again. A voice inside my head urged me to stop. But Roland’s voice drowned it out. “Yes, love, you’re almost there.”
His mouth found mine.
“What in the hellhound?!” came Donovan’s panicked voice behind me. “Oh holy harvest moon! Where did he come from?”
I opened my eyes.
And there he was.
Well, there he almost was.
Only the top half of Roland’s body existed, as real and alive as Donovan or myself. It floated in the air above his ghostly half, and I could only imagine how horrifying that must look to someone who couldn’t see spirits. Slowly, the material part of him increased, creeping downward.
I knew what was happening, and I didn’t think it was possible, but there it was.
I was raising Roland from the dead.
I was giving him his body back.
No, this wasn’t right. I couldn’t do this. Not even for Roland. Not for anyone.
As soon as that resolution lodged itself in my consciousness, he began to fade. “Nora, please. We’re so close to being together. Just a little more.”
“I— I can’t. Not here. Not now.” I shook my head. “Go back home, Roland. Please. Don’t make me banish you.”
Thankfully, he complied, and as soon as he faded away, my head began to clear.
Well, relatively. Donovan was still there with me, and I could feel that pull toward him returning now that Roland was gone.
“Nora, what just happened?” he demanded, his chest heaving, his eyes wide. “Did I just see that spirit …”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said quickly. “You won’t tell anyone, right?”
“Of course not. You know I can keep a secret.”
“Yeah, all too well.”
As my adrenaline from the shock fizzled out, my window of opportunity to do the right thing and put distance between us closed rapidly.
Donovan had already missed his chance, if it’d existed for him. “Where were we?” He moved closer. Uh-oh.
“There you two are!” said a rattling voice a moment before Ted appeared around the corner. He set a firm hand on each of our shoulders, and it was like stepping into a cold shower … in a grave. “I was wondering why you were hurrying off together. But now I understand.”
“You do?” Donovan said.
“Yeah, you were strategizing for how you would beat me and the count in scufflepuck.”
Donovan and I met each other’s eyes, and this time, with Ted’s literal death grip on us, I felt not a spark of anything. “Right,” I said. “Scufflepuck.”
“Yep,” Donovan said, “you got us, Ted.”
“Good,” said the reaper. “And now I know how each of you act when you lie. Follow me.”
“What?” I protested as he led us back inside. “What do you mean when we lie?”
“I see things, you know. I know what’s going on in this town, and I know what went on with you two. Now do you want my help or not?”
“Yes, please,” said Donovan soberly.
“What he said,” I echoed.
We earned ourselves quite a few stares as we entered. Ted had an arm slung around each of our shoulders like we’d just had a good laugh together. If only.
While his touch was offsetting the spell, it was also the longest I’d ever maintained physical contact with him, and it was starting to make my teeth itch.
We approached a corner booth where a pixie man and an elvish woman three times his height were cozied up, looking to get a little cozier.
“Excuse me,” said Ted. “I need this booth.”
They stared up at him like guilty teens caught raiding the liquor cabinet and nodded quickly before scurrying away. “Slide in,” he instructed. “I’m in the middle.”
“Good call,” said Donovan.
When Ted waved over Malavic, who was staring into space like a bored cat, I wondered why on earth it was necessary to include him in this mess. If he learned what was happening with me and Donovan, he would hold it over my head for, well, eternity, or at least until I died.
But Ted didn�
�t fill him in when he reached our table. Instead, he asked, “Mind getting us two sober sours?”
The count arched an eyebrow as he looked at the three of us in the booth. “Someone had a little too much to drink?”
“Just do it,” barked the reaper. Malavic blinked rapidly, evidently as shocked by the harsh tone as I was, but then he nodded succinctly and hurried off to wrangle Fiona’s attention away from Darius.
When he returned with the drinks, he set them both in front of Ted, who thanked him then dismissed him away like he was nothing more than hired help. To my surprise, Malavic complied. Based on his expression, he was surprised, too. Perhaps his friend had never spoken to him like that before.
I stared at Ted with new eyes, unsure what to make of this side of him.
He slid the drinks in front of Donovan and me and ordered, “Drink.”
“Are you kidding?” said Donovan. “These things taste awful. It’s like someone sprinkled cayenne over a lemon then dipped it in echinacea extract.”
“Not kidding,” he said. “Drink.”
I did as he said because that seemed like the prudent thing to do when a grim reaper was giving orders, and the drink felt like a shot of lightning coursing through my body.
“Fangs and claws,” Donovan spat after he swallowed his first sip.
As awful as it was, though, it did cut through the fog of lust. Now it made sense why Ted was forcing this on us. But it did raise another question. “Have you dealt with a love spell like this before?”
He nodded. “Only once. A long, long time ago. Back before this realm even existed.”
“And do you know what caused it?” If he did, maybe he could help us figure out what was behind it now. “Was it the Winds of Change?”
“No, no,” he said. “The Winds of Change are powerful, but they rarely have any effect on love. The Winds usually bring in suspicion and hate. Eventually, if enough people call those emotions what they really are, the Winds can turn into something productive and the change can be good and useful for everyone.”
“Does that happen often?” I asked.
“Only about half the time. What’s happening here is totally unrelated, though.”