Stir Until Petrified
Page 10
“What are you doing sitting in the dark staring at me? And why should I listen to anything you have to say?” I could feel my cheeks become hot with embarrassment as I realized my breasts had been hanging out for who knows how long. My ingrained Catholic modesty made me move to cover myself as quickly as possible despite the protest in my muscles. There was a small part of me that hoped he had a twinge of regret looking at them. They were damn nice tits and he was never going to touch them.
“I wanted to be here when you woke up. I haven't been here that long.” Luc made his way to the bed and gently shifted my body forward. I winced with the movement. Lord help me, even my eyelashes hurt. He stacked three pillows behind me. Silently he produced a bottle of water and what appeared to be aspirin.
“Here, take these. It’ll help a little. Sip the water slowly. Your stomach may not be done.”
“I don’t think a few aspirins are going to cut it. Don’t you have something a little stronger you can give me?” I said taking a sip of water.
“Sorry, that’s the best I have to offer.” He held his hand out waiting for me to decide.
I sullenly accepted the pills. They weren't going to make a dent in the pain. It was like asking someone to take a Tylenol to help with childbirth. Swallowing down the pills I sat staring at him refusing to be the one to start the conversation. As far as I was concerned he’d become persona non-grata the moment he walked into my kitchen and arrested my family. The vision of my poor Nonna being forced to the floor on his command, well, that had turned my disdain for him into outright hatred. You can mess with me, but never touch my family.
“Don’t you have anything you want to say to me, Etta?” He asked quietly.
There were a lot of things I wanted to say but I’d save that for later. Right now, I had more important priorities. “Where the hell is my family?”
“They’re safe.”
“Well, that does a lot to alleviate my concern. But for real, where are they?” I tried not to let my fear seep into my voice. He’d already shown that he had no empathy, I didn’t want him to fake it on my account.
“They’re being held as guests until we can figure a few things out with you. I’m sure you won’t believe me but they’re safe and as comfortable as possible.”
“I don’t believe you. Why? Oh, right because you’re a fucking liar!” I shouted, hunching over as another wave of pain hit me.
I’m not sure what I’d hoped to accomplish. I had no way of knowing if what he told me was the truth. At the very least maybe he could tell me what had happened after I blacked out. My mind wandered to the contours of his face as I tried to gather my thoughts. I could make out the outline of his thick eyelashes brushing against his cheek as he blinked waiting for me to say something more. I wanted to rip out the section of my brain that still thought he was beautiful. How was that even possible? I was here in prison because of him. Can you develop Stockholm syndrome within a few hours of captivity, while asleep? Probably not. For some reason my vagina wasn't getting the message that we hated him now. It was going to need a stern talking to, and STAT.
“I get that you’re not happy with me right now, and you probably won't accept much of what I have to say. I’m the only one your side right now, so, you might want to listen,” Luc said with conviction.
“On my side? How the hell are you on my side? If you think giving me Tylenol and staring at my tits while I’m unconscious proves you’re on “Team Me”, you should probably go!” My stomach flipped in displeasure at the exertion it was taking to yell at him. My breathing became shallow as a light sheen of sweat broke out across my skin. I needed to calm down. I was not well enough to verbally spar with him. Whatever had happened had left me in bad shape. “Any thoughts on why I feel like I was run over by a Mack truck?”
“I thought you wanted me to go?” he said, pushing himself up from the bed.
I tried my best to communicate my disgust at his childish question with a very pointed look. Hopefully he could see my face in the small stream of light that crept in from under the door.
“Fine.” Luc let out a sigh that resonated from deep in his diaphragm. “You lost control of your magic. You almost magic bombed everyone into oblivion.”
“I almost blew everyone into oblivion? That sounds a little overdramatic.” I knew my magic had flooded me. I’d felt the rush of it pouring into my body moments before I blacked out. It was like the feeling I’d had the night Bob attacked me. It’d been more intense but certainly nothing as crazy as what Luc was eluding to.
“You really know nothing about your powers, do you?” he said sitting back down on the bed.
“I know enough. I’m a strega. I was born a strega. I can shapeshift, and I force punch people on accident. What more is there to know?” I said shrugging my shoulders instantly regretting the small movement.
“So much more. For one you’re more powerful than anyone guessed. Did you know that your bloodline traces back to some of the most powerful stregas in history? Four separate bloodlines of the most extraordinary stregas in our known history are culminated in your body. We knew you were strong, but we vastly underestimated your power.”
“If neither you or I knew there was that much power in my body, how the hell could I create enough energy to magic bomb everyone?” It was hard to deny that something beyond my understanding had happened. The throbbing in my body was proof of it, but a magic bomb? I’d lived twenty-six years without anything like this happening. Why now? My ex-husband stole my child. If I was going to become a magic bomb at some point in time, that would’ve been the event to trigger it.
“I’m not sure why it chose today to finally manifest itself. Your magic feeds off your emotions. They work as a conduit to allow it to grow and gain influence. When you lost control of your temper today your magic was fed Miracle Grow. A trained strega would have felt it. They would’ve been able to harness it to use it to their advantage. Most stregas spend years learning to work in tandem with their magic. Since you have no clue, it just exploded out of you, doing what it thought best for the situation.” He splayed his hands out replicating a burst.
“Magic eats emotions? And it just did what it thought was best? That sounds bizarre. How can that even be a thing? Magic isn't alive,” I said scoffing at the idea of magic having a mind of it’s own.
“I can’t tell you how magic came into existence, or where it originated. We’ve been studying it for centuries and we still don’t have an answer to that question. What we do know is strega magic is different from other magics. The fae, and many other magical beings, draw magic from the earth. The limit of their powers is their environment. They can store a small reserve, but once that runs out if there’s no nature, there’s no magic. Strega and most other witches host the magic in their bodies. It’s a living thing that’s bound itself to you. You have to learn to work together, or the magic will exert its own will. I honestly have no idea how you managed to keep control of it for this long.”
The thought of my magic as a living entity inside of me was freaky. When I was in first grade, lice spread through my classroom like wildfire. I was sent home when they found the bugs hiding out in the depths of my thick hair. I laid in bed all night convinced I could feel them march rank and file across my head like an army. The thought of something existing in my body that wasn’t an actual part of my physiology gave me the heebie jeebies big time.
“If I’m so powerful how’d you manage to stop me from destroying everything?” I asked.
“I trapped you in a magic shield. Leontyne and several of the other agents helped hold it in place until your magic finally decided to give up. I honestly wasn’t sure what trapping you in there with all that magic would do. It did some damage to you, physically. I think it could’ve been worse, though. We cast a protection spell to try to keep the magic from harming you while it bounced around inside the shield, but it was weak at best. It worked for the most part, since you’re still alive.” He smiled grimly.
“It was either that or just stand there while we all died. The amount of magic you unleashed was comparable to the energy from an atom bomb. Everything for several miles would’ve been decimated. That would’ve included your family. So, you’re welcome,” he said, glaring at me.
I wasn’t going to give him any accolades for saving me or my family. We wouldn't have been in that position if it hadn’t been for him and his thugs. I closed my eyes trying to accept what he’d said. There was a small part of me that was amazed. I could be a walking weapon. On the other hand, what if I lost my temper? What if I just magic bombed downtown Palermo Bay one day? If I managed to survive, how could I ever live with what I’d done? I hated my magic. I hated what it made me. It was probably a good thing I was in jail.
“I’m a threat to society. Awesome. You know, no one ever suspects the mild-mannered baker is a weapon of abject horror. Do you think that’s an attractive quality, or something I should leave off my online dating profile?” I asked only half kidding.
“I think we both know you’ll never have an online dating profile,” Luc replied with a slight edge of laughter to his voice.
“Touché, Mr. DeFiero. Looks like you did your homework on me a little better than I thought.” I smiled despite myself.
“In all seriousness, with the power you wield, control isn’t an option.” He placed his hand on top of mine as if I would want comfort from him.
“Really? Funny, because I was laying here, throbbing from head to toe, thinking I should go on a rampage up the coastline, blowing up cities one by one. I mean, who’s going to stop me?” I said, yanking my hand out from under his.
“Blasted all, Etta! This isn’t funny. Do you understand what the Osservatori do? What our job is? You’re a danger. Do you honestly think after this, they’re going to let you walk back into your life?”
Anger flared in me raw and unfettered for the second time today. This man sure knew how to push my buttons. “I’ve never had issues controlling my magic until I was attacked by a man who I’m pretty sure wanted to rape me. Oh, and then you arrested my family. I can’t help but think that maybe there is something to that. Besides, I thought I was already the Osservatori’s most wanted. You do realize there’s no way I’m responsible for the people in a coma! I can’t control my magic. That alone should be a big clue.”
“Your power made you our prime suspect, until last night.” He turned away from me as he said, refusing to look me in the eye.
“Until last night? How long have I been asleep?” I said looking around the room for something that would show me what day it was.
“Seventeen hours. And yes, until last night. You were given a dose of magic inhibitor when you were brought in. We’ve been watching you closely. Even if you’d been able to work your magic past the inhibitor, we would’ve known. Another victim was claimed last night. So, you’re off the hook for that.”
“Great, get me the hell out of here then. You promised if I was found innocent I’d get to go home,” I demanded.
“That was before you tried to kill us. There’s nothing I can do now. You’ll have to meet with the council and they’ll decide your fate.”
“What does that mean?” I tried to sit up again, instantly regretting the decision.
“Your lack of control makes you a threat to humans, which in turn makes you a threat to the magical community. That’s not something they can ignore.” He raked his hand through his hair in frustration.
“I like how you say they, like you have nothing to do with it. How about you just dose me up with this magical inhibitor shit for life? I’ve no want or desire to use my magic,” I said as the reality of what he was saying began to sink in. If losing my magic let me go home, I was all for it.
“We can’t. I told you, the magic is a part of you. Inhibiting it long term has proven to diminish the host.”
“Which means what?”
“You’d eventually die.” He inhaled deeply the weight of his words hanging over him.
Well shit. I’d be no good to my family dead. At least I was off the hook for the crimes I’d never committed. Apparently, no one was even batting an eye at what I’d done to Bob. All good things. Too bad I was now considered too much of a threat to society to be free. It almost seemed as if the Osservatori were determined to find some way to keep me. It was in line with everything I’d ever heard about them. My life sucked big time. Just once I wanted something good to happen. I was so tired of death and loss and bad breaks. What had I done in a past life to deserve this?
My pity party quickly melted into rage. Most of it directed at Luc, whether that was fair or not. I wanted to claw his eyes out. He’d used me. I’m sure he saw it as doing his duty for the greater good, but I thought of it as a violation. He was one hell of an actor. I’d never suspected on our date he was just ramping up for a kiss to see if I was the strega they were looking for. I hated him. I hated the Osservatori. Whatever our kind had agreed to a thousand years ago, I couldn't imagine that the magical community would’ve ever thought the Osservatori would become this; a tyrannical government that could ruin people’s lives with the wave of a hand.
The worst part? There was a part of me that still wanted nothing more than to be close to him. Something inside of me reached out, pulling towards him, even as my brain was screaming that I hated him. That was honestly some kind of fucked up if you asked me. Tears welled up in the corner of my eyes. I let the tears slide down my face. I deserved to cry after the day I had.
“So, this is it? This is my life now.” My voice sounded empty and lost in the darkness of my cell.
“I don’t know. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry it came to this. I’m sorry this started off with me lying to you. Sometimes when you’re trying to find the bad guy, lying is necessary. There’s a strega out there hurting people. We can’t find a reason or a motive. We don't even have a list of real suspects. All we have to go on right now is ruling out unregistered strega in a radius of where the victims are. That’s like shooting down a dark hallway. What do you think I should’ve done, Etta? Politely knock on people’s doors?” Luc pleaded, almost sounding sincere.
“I hope you don’t think I’m going to feel bad for you. Poor Luc. Just trying to do his job. He’s really a good guy who’s getting a bad rap. Spare me. Just so you know, if I wasn't hurting so bad right now I’d punch you in your face. With my fist. Not my magic.”
“I’ve no doubt that’s exactly what you would do. Can I at least extend an olive branch?”
Luc leaned forward and reached out for my head with both his hands.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Don’t touch me.” I burrowed into the mattress shrinking as far as possible from his touch.
“I’m not going to hurt you. Why would you think that’s what I’m going to do?” A look of sadness crossed his face. “I wanted to heal you.”
“Really? What the hell do you expect? You don’t get to seduce a woman, raid her house with your goon squad, arrest her and her whole family, and then tell her she’s up shit creek with a secret magical agency because she almost fucking magic bombed everyone, without her flinching when you put your hands on her.” I was done. If he thought I’d been sarcastic and bitchy before, well, he’d never met the cornered in a jail cell, all bets are off Etta. “Go ahead. But be warned; I will bite an appendage off if you so much as breath wrong.”
Lightly he placed both of his hands on the side of my face. A barely perceptible warmth seeped into my skin. His hands felt like he’d just been warming them in front of a fire. Slowly the warmth built. It began to move like molasses down my entire body. I closed my eyes, reveling in the liquid heat that infused itself into me. Against my will, I relaxed fully, allowing it free rein. It felt too good to resist. I was like a cat sprawled out in a patch of sun, gloriously basking in the heat that infused every cell o
f my body.
His hands lifted from my head signaling he was finished. I opened my eyes, and for the first time since I’d woken up my vision was not struggling to focus. Tentatively I moved testing my body. I held my breath waiting for the pain to rear its ugly head. As I wiggled my fingers, I was relieved to find my body no longer felt like Dorothy had dropped a house on me. My stomach rumbled with the pangs of hunger rather than turning with nausea. It’d been forever since I’d eaten anything. I was also aware of a slight funk that seemed to be radiating off me. Gross. When you can smell yourself, you can only assume the smell is strong enough to emit in a radius around you. I needed a shower really bad.
“Do you think I can take a shower? And have you seen my clothes? All your yapping made me forget to ask an important question. Why the hell am I naked?” I said, pulling the sheet a little closer.
“Your clothes didn’t withstand your magical outburst. I draped you with a blanket as soon as I realized it. I promise I did everything in my power to ensure your modesty was protected.” At least I wasn’t the only one blushing. Scarlett wrapped itself around his face so deep it was impossible to miss even without lights.
“And did you succeed?” His face turned from scarlet to a bright crimson beacon. “You know what? Never mind. There are some things in life I’m probably better off not knowing.”
“I’ll see what we can find for you to wear. There’s a door over on the far wall. You’ll find a bathroom with a shower. I’ll also send some food. You should rest after that. The council was called, but it’ll be awhile before everyone gets here and is ready for you.”
I watched him walk across the room and out the door, finally leaving me to my own thoughts. Sighing I drug myself out of the bed, grateful for the healing. At least when I was brought in front of Osservatori I wouldn't be wincing in pain. Hopefully I’d be clothed.
The shower proved to be heavenly. The hot water worked its own magic to soothe out the remaining aches in my body. I pulled myself away sooner than I wanted. My body's need for food won out over the luxury of the shower. Italian girls don't do well when food isn't available at regular intervals.