:Be a match.:
Then he remembered. Not only, “be a match,” but his own words: “the earth is like a lover, who doesn’t want to let you out of his bed.”
He let his whole body go limp, and reached for Earth. And Earth received him. Earth held him.
“Fucking faggot! Stop resisting arrest!”
The cops tugged and pulled and swore, but Earth wouldn’t let him go.
The power of Earth met the magic of the spiral, of the chanting, of the drums. Of breath, and rain, and every beating heart within the circle.
“Drop!” he shouted. His comrades grew heavy, Earth calling to flesh. They sank onto the ground, around him, arms still linked, heads held upward to the blessed kiss of rain. The two cops stumbled and slipped, scrambling to not fall on their asses at the sudden shifting weight.
He felt Aiden then. And Brigid. And the rapid spread of energy that tasted of magic. It snapped into the four corners and held, forming a barrier of protection over the whole camp and the linked people surrounding it.
And then the two cops let go of Tobias. Hands released their bruising grips. Helmets shifted away. They just. Let. Go.
Tobias inhaled in relief. It still hurt. He fought back a cough.
The line of riot cops took one step back. Then another. They just stood there. Tobias could see them through his swollen, slitted eyes. They stood their in their gas masks, and their padded gloves and vests, behind their shields.
Behind him, a powerful woman’s voice split through the sound of rolling thunder, drums, and rain.
“Out here in the darkness, I’m gonna let it shine! Out here in the darkness, I’m gonna let it shine.”
Lightning flickered.
The magic was working! Aiden! It’s working! He hoped Aiden could feel this, wherever he was.
The heartbeat of the drum paused, then began again. There were voices in the center, chanting a counterpoint to the woman’s song, in a language Tobias didn’t recognize. It must be the Wasco Nation, chanting prayers.
Then more voices joined in from the circle and the camp. “Out here in the darkness, we’re gonna let it shine!”
He felt a wash of love and safety surround him, covering them all. And then, the sweet scent of green grasses and fields of wheat.
“Brigid?” he whispered.
The singing went on and on. Tobias straightened up, and helped the people on either side of him sit up, too. The boundary circle righted itself.
“In the face of violence, we’re gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!”
Tobias’s face stung. His eyes and throat were filled with the sensation of sandpaper and glass.
“Tilt your head back,” a voice behind him said.
“What?”
“Tilt your head back. I’m going to help you.”
Tobias did, and flinched as the viscous liquid hit him. Antacid. Magnesium hydroxide and water. It washed the burn away.
“Open your eyes. I know it feels weird, but I’m going to pour some in.”
Tobias opened his injured eyes as wide as he could, trying not to blink.
The singing went on and on around him.
The person behind him wiped his face.
“Better?” they asked.
The stinging receded.
“Better.” He turned his head to see who’d been helping him. It was a small person wearing a gas mask. A red cross made of electrical tape graced the sleeves of their black jacket. May all the Gods bless anarchist field medics. “Thank you.”
“No prob.” The medic got up from their crouch and went to help the person next to him.
Tobias didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He felt wild, as though he could run through the rain, shrieking and dancing. But he also wanted to stay right here, linked to these beautiful people, for the rest of his life.
Tobias’s skin and eyes still burned, but maybe, just maybe, he was going to be fine.
Maybe all of them were going to be fine.
The cops were leaving now, boots pounding on the street, heading away from Open Heart.
Unbelievable.
The camp set up a cheer.
38
Aiden
The rain had stopped. The skies were still gray, but it was dry when he stepped outside. The air felt amazing on his skin. Aiden closed his eyes and inhaled.
Then he heard feet running up the steps.
“Aiden!” A familiar voice. He opened his eyes right before Tobias swept him into a bone crushing hug.
It hurt. But Aiden held on tight as they swayed back and forth, heads held close together, breathing in each other’s scent. Frankincense. Myrrh. Fire. And something new. The scent of damp earth. Funny, that was what he would have expected an herbalist to smell like: earth and plants. He finally did.
Aiden looked over his lover’s shoulder and saw a grinning troupe gathered at the bottom of the stairs. Stingray and Brad. Sister Jan. Barry and Sheila from the camp. Jaqueline and Rabbi Schwartz. Oh my God, even Reverend Laney was there to greet him.
“Yeah. Your fan club is here,” Tobias said in his ear. “Want to say hello?”
Aiden kissed Tobias’s neck. “I would.”
As Tobias took his hand and walked Aiden down the steps to his friends, Aiden couldn’t help but think of the men he’d left inside the jail. They were waiting to be transferred, waiting to be bailed out, waiting for a lawyer to advise them to cop a plea.
Waiting for the world to change.
But every last one of them had helped him. They had held up Brigid’s mantle in that cramped and stinking cell. They had helped bring peace to the land. At least one small part of it.
He had blessed each man before he left. They clasped his hands, and gave him the nod that signified respect. They hadn’t spoken much, because there was too much and too little to say. He’d told them to look him up at De Porres House if they ever needed him. For anything.
“Thanks, holy man, I will,” one of them said. But Aiden couldn’t tell if the man had meant it. Their fate was too uncertain, the only certainty being that they were likely getting the short end of the stick again. And again.
“Aiden! We’re so glad they let you go!”
He started hugging everyone in turn. “Yeah, I was told the charges were dropped?”
“Yes,” Sister Jan said. She had a purple hat on over her salt-and-pepper hair. The hat matched her Doc Martens eight-hole boots. Her blue eyes sparked behind big black-rimmed glasses.
“And what were the charges, exactly?” Aiden honestly didn’t know. The whole time he’d been inside, he’d barely been present to his surroundings.
“Disturbing the peace and resisting arrest,” Sister Jan replied.
“Resisting? I fainted. Or passed out. Or…I’m not exactly sure what happened.”
Stingray shook her hands and tilted her head in an I know, I know, gesture. “They always want to charge people with that. He convinced them you were having a spiritual crisis.”
Aiden looked toward where she was pointing, at an older, light skinned Black gentleman with a wispy mustache. He wore a long tan trench coat over a dark brown suit, matching leather briefcase in his left hand.
The man stepped forward.
“Hello, Aiden. My name is Walter Copley. I’m please to make your acquaintance.”
“You got me out?”
“It’s what I do.”
Aiden wanted to shout down a raft of blessings on top of the man’s thinning hair, but he didn’t want to freak him out.
“Thank you,” he said. “May I offer you a blessing?”
Walter looked startled, then gave a quick nod, and bowed his head.
Aiden placed his hands, palms down, so gently, resting over the lawyer’s brow. He caught a whiff of pipe tobacco and paper.
“Brigid, as you have blessed me, and blessed this city, please bless this man. You offered me a choice of many things, and I chose the torch of illumination. I ask that you offer this man,
Walter Copley, whatever illumination he chooses, and whatever blessing he needs.”
He felt a warmth flowing through his palms, and onto Walter’s head. Then it was done. He lifted up his hands, and Walter raised his head. There were tears shining in his eyes.
“How did you know?”
“I didn’t. All I did was ask.”
The man nodded, then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a business card.
“If you ever need me again, I’ll be around.” Then he turned and walked away. Aiden watched him for a moment, looking at the slight halo of light around his head.
“We’re taking you to lunch at Raquel’s,” Jaqueline said, her voice jerking Aiden back from wherever it was he’d been.
He still felt so in between, and wondered if life would always be this way, or if he’d go back to something close to normal once things died down.
Aiden looked at his friends and smiled.
“Raquel’s sounds great. Tobias is always talking about how good those paninis are. And I want to hear all about what happened at the camp.”
Reverend Laney cleared this throat. “I won’t be able to go to lunch—there’s a vestry meeting this afternoon. But I wanted to be here to greet you when you were released.” He held out his right hand.
Aiden looked at it, then met it with his own. “Thanks for being here, Reverend.”
“No. Thank you. Thank you for…everything.”
“Come on, Aiden, I’m hungry,” Stingray said. “And I didn’t take the day off from the kitchen just to stand around on a cold sidewalk.”
“Aiden?” Aiden turned. It was Terry Benson, from the city council. She approached rapidly, coat swinging out behind her. “I’m glad I caught you.” She looked around the group. Everyone was silent. Waiting. “I want you to know that the city council is going to push to end the sweeps.”
“How about the rest of it?” Tobias asked. “The mayor, the chief of police? Permanent encampments?”
She grimaced. “I’ll deny ever saying this to you, but, one step at a time is my answer. One step at a time. And Aiden? Thank you. Thank all of you.”
Then she hurried off.
“Well, that’s a victory,” Stingray said. “A small one, but I’ll take what we can get. And right now, I hope that looks a lot like a ham and cheese panini.”
Aiden threw an arm around Stingray’s shoulders. “Lead on, crew chief. Lead on.”
Turning his head, he saw Tobias smiling at him, goatee freshly trimmed, brown eyes so bright, though they were red around the edges, and a portion on his left cheek looked slightly burned. Aiden was sure there was a story there. He held out his other hand, and Tobias laced his fingers through his.
“Let’s get you fed.”
39
Tobias
Tobias blinked at his blue bedroom ceiling. He should probably turn on a light. Afternoon was rapidly turning into evening, and the gray light in the room was fading fast. Soft rain pattered outside. Tobias smelled the rosemary in the garden. And the herbs in the kitchen. And the trees.
The chemicals hadn’t taken that away from him. His throat and eyes still felt a little raw, but whatever this new sense was that he had been gifted was still intact.
Goddess, the bed felt good, as did Aiden, curled around him. It felt as though the past week had taken a year.
Lunch had taken a year. They had sat in Raquel’s cafe for hours. Too long.
There had been so much to catch up on. So many stories to tell. Tobias had a feeling they’d be unpacking everything that happened for months. Like, who had called off the cops, right when the magic snapped into place? Raquel told him to trust that sometimes, magic just worked, and how much more proof did he need?
And there were still the injunctions Walter Copley wanted to serve. The lawyer thought the protestors and the camp had a good case against the city, the mayor, and the police. Terry Benson’s promises would help, Tobias hoped. But that was going to take years. The wheels of justice ground slowly.
Tobias wasn’t sure if he was up for that sort of sustained, bureaucratic action, but he’d do whatever Aiden or the camp decided they wanted. The feeling of being surrounded by people, linked like that, stayed with him. He couldn’t shake the solid sense of three hundred people having his back, and the knowledge that he had theirs.
He’d heard some activist-types call each other comrade before, and had thought it was a petty affectation. He didn’t think that anymore.
The people who had held on to his body when the riot cops were trying to drag him away? They were his comrades now. His father would be horrified. That made Tobias feel just fine.
He was going to tell his father he was moving out of the house. He wasn’t going to fight him anymore. Freddie and Reece could keep the place if they wanted it. His clients were right, he would raise his prices for those who could afford it. Or maybe set up a sliding scale. The money would come somehow.
Brigid had assured him he was a healer, and he figured that meant he could count on her help. The Gods and humans had a sacred pact, Brenda would say. That meant, if he served her as a healer, she’d take care of him, right?
Regardless of whether or not that was true, it was clear to him now that as a healer and a witch, he would keep stepping up.
Besides, he had the visceral memory of Earth supporting him now. Earth wasn’t going to let him go.
“What are you thinking?” Aiden’s voice was sleepy.
“Shhh. Nothing. Go back to sleep.”
Aiden settled himself, breathing growing deep and even again. Tobias felt him relax and grow heavy against his body, and smiled.
After the long lunch, and promises extracted that there would be a debrief with the coven, and the Interfaith Council, and, and, and, and, Tobias had dragged Aiden home. He had figured he’d just hold him while he slept. Goddess knew the man needed some rest. Tobias, too.
Aiden had surprised him that afternoon. As soon as Tobias shut his bedroom door, Aiden was on him, tugging up his sweater, and unbuckling his belt.
“What happened to your raincoat, anyway?” Aiden asked in the middle of the frantic undressing. “You look like you have new clothes.”
“Yeah,” Tobias replied, pulling a long sleeved T-shirt over Aiden’s head. “My clothes got wrecked by the teargas. Stuff that couldn’t be washed five times got sealed into a garbage bag and thrown away. I couldn’t even wear anything into the house. My housemates made me change out on the porch.”
“In front of the neighbors?” Aiden practically shrieked, stopping in the middle of pulling off his jeans.
“In front of the neighbors. They wouldn’t even give me a towel, just made me run through the house naked to the shower.”
“Wow.”
Then they were kissing. Then they were climbing onto the high bed, practically dragging each other onto the mattress. Then they were climbing all over each other, and under each other. Then Aiden was staring at him with those big blue eyes.
Tobias started crying. They didn’t stop making love even then, though it grew tender for a time, then fierce again.
It was the sweetest, hottest sex Tobias had ever experienced in his life.
Tobias sighed, content. The only thing he needed right now was a drink to ease his throat.
Gently sliding his way out from underneath his lover, Tobias got up to get some water from the bathroom.
When he came back into the shadowy bedroom, the slice of light from the hallway showed Aiden, awake and sitting up in bed. He was staring at the altar, a look of rapture on his face. Tobias closed the door quietly, and set the water glass down on the bedside table. Then he walked naked to the altar, drew out a tiny box of matches, and struck the red head of one on the slice of sandpaper on the lid. The match head flared, and sulfur hit his nose.
He touched the flame to the wick of a beeswax taper, and shook out the flaming match.
“Holy Brigid, we honor you. We give you thanks.”
He heard the cr
eak of the bed, then felt a soft touch as Aiden came to stand behind him, pressing his chest and hip to Tobias’s shoulder and ass. He felt his breath, and smelled that special Aiden scent of him.
Tobias took another breath. “Holy Brigid, we ask of you…” What did he want to say?
“To bless our relationship,” Aiden said, wrapping his arms around Tobias’s waist.
Yes.
“To bless our path. And to help us continue to forge justice from the fires of love.” Tobias completed the prayer and turned in his lover’s arms, until they faced each other once again.
Then he lowered his face to Aiden’s, and sucked his lower lip between his own.
Aiden gave a slight moan, and kissed him back. Then he led Tobias back to bed.
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Read an excerpt of By Wind
By Wind, Chapter One
The first pangs of a headache started at the base of Brenda’s skull. It felt like pressure, building up inside of her, waiting to burst free. Or crush her in its wake.
Don’t be so dramatic, she thought. It’s just a change in barometric pressure or something.
Except the sky was blue today. There wasn’t any storm on the horizon.
As a matter of fact, Brenda should feel energized. This was her time of year. It was almost Vernal Equinox, and the moon was waxing toward half. Everything should feel as if it was tipping toward balance, but instead, everything felt wrong.
She needed balance this year, more than ever. Portland did, too, after the scandals that had rocked local government during the fall and winter. Scandals that Arrow and Crescent Coven had been smack in the middle of.
By Flame Page 17
