Forgotten Magic

by Eden Butler

Until I made him forget.

  Behind me, in the house, I heard glass shattering and the rage-filled scream of a woman beyond anger.

  “Damn,” I said, blinking fast before I squinted beyond the porch railings and into the inky forest that surrounded me. As if in answer, the wind blew a quick gust against my face, blowing the blanket from my grip—nature’s kiss that made promises that would never be broken. It was in that moment that I understood what the missing Elam would mean not only for the humans, but for every magical creature hiding in plain sight. The ley lines held so much magic, so much pure energy that it had to be contained. Taking in too much of it, coming too close to it, listening too carefully to its song, you could be easily destroyed, consumed. Mortal and witch alike.

  “Stupid, arrogant, blind idiot!”

  I snuck a long swig from the flask, then shoved it down the front of my shirt and between my breasts when the glass doors swung open behind me and Caridee Rivers slammed onto the porch, still screaming at Bane. The woman was thin and pale, but her cheeks were bright with pink blotches and strands of flyaway hair were escaping her once perfectly coifed blonde bun. She wore a classic, casual dress and lush-looking leather boots that came up above her knees. Her look was one of both wealth and health—and high disgust that I was staring down at her. Two quick steps and Cari stood in front of me with a twist curling up her top lip.

  “Leave her be, Cari.” Bane had followed his fiancée out onto the porch. Despite all the hysterics coming from Cari, he wasn’t frantic. I doubted he knew the meaning of the word, but the constant calm that kept his temper contained bristled around the edges, and I glanced at the fierce line wrinkling between his eyebrows. “You’re being ridiculous,” he told Cari, stepping behind her.

  “Ridiculous? Please.” Cari whipped her attention from me to Bane and back again. She stood less than a foot in front of me, face scrunched up in fury, that constant little twitch of her top lip verging toward a full sneer. Which, I’ll be honest, approached hilarious considering she was only about four feet, six inches tall and I was pushing five-eight. The expression on her face was severe, angry, and those large doe eyes of hers would look fierce and threatening if she wasn’t so petite.

  “You,” she said, and I pressed my lips together in a pathetic attempt not to laugh.

  “Me?”

  “Yes. You.” Cari squared her shoulders, pushing up her chin. “Why the hell are you back?” She tilted her head and her desperate, not-remotely-threatening eyes blazed like wet glass. “What are you plotting?”

  “Is she serious?” I asked Bane, glancing over the top of Cari’s head.

  “She’s being a pain in my ass,” he agreed, but there was something that bordered close to pleading in his expression. Eyebrows lifted, he kept shaking his head as though he needed a self-reminder that she was his fiancée, despite appearing more like a harpy than a witch.

  “Quiet, Bane.” Surprisingly, he listened to her, which seemed completely out of character for him. But hell, I really couldn’t claim to know him at all anymore. Some things were bound to change in ten years.

  But really, the witch was definitely inventing things in her mind. That much I could tell by the quick slip of her gaze between my face and Bane’s. Most women are territorial, sure. But a witch with her eyes on property and power like Bane’s? Yeah, anyone fool enough to threaten her advantageous marriage plans would be in for one hell of a fight.

  Instead of antagonizing her, like I very much wanted to do, I decided to be the adult, try my hand at playing professional. “Listen, Caridee, I’m just here to do a job.”

  “Yeah, witch, I heard about the jobs you do.” Another step toward me and she pointed one long, manicured nail in my direction. The nail was filed square and covered in fire engine red paint. “Find things? Please. You take off for ten years and then conveniently come back right when that dumbass brother-in-law of yours screws up and your father’s business goes under?”

  “His business hasn’t gone under,” I said, gritting my teeth and trying to loosen my fingers, which threatened to ball up tight into fists.

  “May as well have.” She stepped closer, pushing that nail into my shoulder. “I know why you’re here. I know you think you can snake your way into beds you have no business being in.”

  “What?” She barely blinked when I brushed her hand away from me.

  “You stay the hell away from Bane.” She actually lifted her chin in some pathetic mimic of a threat. “He belongs to me.”

  “Have you lost your mind?” This was so ridiculous that I considered that maybe I was being pranked. I even glanced up at Bane again when the witch did not back down, getting further annoyed when he shook his head and rested against the porch railing.

  “I know how you left, Janiver Benoit.” Cari’s voice was low, serious, and that anger in her features shifted to something that honestly did feel like a threat. She might be tiny, but that look told me she wasn’t without a little fire in her gut. “I know what you tried to take from me back then.”

  “Back then? Back when? You mean him?” I nodded in Bane’s direction.

  “That’s right.”

  The air around us cooled as I stared down at the petite woman. Professionalism was great when it was appreciated, but I damn sure wouldn’t let this ridiculous witch throw out accusations when I’d only taken a job.

  Or was it that some ancient part of myself raged against the entire situation? A voice echoed in my mind with constant refrain that Bane did not belong to Cari and he never would.

  Some of that primal voice seeped out as I narrowed my eyes at her. “Seems like if you were so convinced he belonged to you, you wouldn’t have to make threats.” I stepped closer with my arms folded, forcing Caridee to retreat half a step. A quick pulse of magic seeped into my limbs, warming my skin with a barely distinguishable breeze. “Seems to me if he was yours and you were his then you’d have a hyphen on your name already. Funny how that hasn’t happened yet.”

  “There are traditions, guidelines to follow. You damn well know that.”

  The smile I gave her wasn’t warm, and as I tilted my head, inhaled deep as a small breeze pushed my hair from my shoulders, the pulse of anger mixed with that sweet rhythm that the lines pushed into my body. “Is that the excuse he gives you?”

  “That’s enough. Both of you.” Bane pulled Cari back by her elbow and frowned at me like I’d gone ahead and cursed her. I wanted to, knew she deserved it, but Bane’s frown took away some of the heat warming my limbs.

  “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he told Cari, ignoring her when she jerked out of his hold. “We aren’t married yet and you damn well know it.” She stepped back further, looking wounded, and Bane’s shoulders fell. “Besides,” he said, his voice a bit softer. “If we don’t find the Elam, a marriage to reinforce the covens won’t matter much, will it? Not if the lines flood the Cove. Jani is here to do a job, that’s it. That’s all. There’s nothing…” He paused, shooting his gaze to me before he straightened his shoulders, head shaking like the entire explanation was pointless. “She’s…she’s just a temporary employee.”

  That hurt a little more than it should have, and I hated that he wouldn’t look at me. I hated even more that I could feel his anger, his irritation, and that I wasn’t sure who it was directed toward—Cari for the fuss she made or me for rising to her.

  “Then why the hell is she sleeping here?”

  I stepped back, watched as the small witch lost all her fight and took to fidgeting with the hem of her jacket. Her big eyes went wider still, as though she needed Bane’s reassurance more than any denials he’d given her. It was actually sort of pathetic and for just a second, I was a little sorry for her, having to play such games.

  “I don’t need to explain shit to you, Cari. Now go home.” He nodded toward the open door, pushing her hand off his wrist when she reached for him. “Jani and I have a lot of prepping to do for this search, and the other covens and dens will be he
re tomorrow afternoon. I don’t have time for jealous fits.” He looked up at me when he said the last and part of me wondered who it was meant for—the woman with the right to her anger, or me, the one who’d given up the right to feel anything for him at all.

  Four

  The hands were sure, certain, with small calluses on the palms and at the tips of the fingers. With every touch, the liquid push of magic smoothed over my skin, through my limbs, wedged and held in the center of my torso.

  “Just breathe, little one.” There were years of whiskey, of pain and wisdom in each syllable he spoke. His was not a calm voice, not meant to settle, but to invoke, inspire.

  He smelled of pipe tobacco and eucalyptus. Arthritis had taken root in his joints and the eucalyptus helped ease the pain. He smoked the pipe to annoy my twin when her boss was in the mood to hear her fussing. That, oddly, happened a lot.

  “You have let that city eat into your mind. Its smog and traffic have noshed away at your nexus. I can hardly feel it inside you.” The Oracle inhaled, rounding his chest so that his plump stomach brushed against my arms. “I hear the lines call to you, don’t you?” My mind was too focused, too clotted by the hum of the lines beyond the walls around us and the sensation of Bane’s signature battling with my father’s on the other side of the closed door.

  My father had wanted to observe, a request I shot down quickly. It didn’t matter that the Oracle was his brother, Batty. It didn’t matter that Batty had been clearing the blocked nexuses of every coven member in the Cove for generations, my father still insisted on tagging along. Mainly, I think he wanted to keep his eye on Bane. He’d never liked the wizard. But Batty had ordered both wizards to sit in the waiting room outside his office and slammed the door shut in their faces when the protests started.

  I kind of loved him a little more for that alone.

  “Yes, there,” the Oracle said, pressing his rough palm on my stomach. “As rigid as a board, Janiver, and tight as a drum.” He leaned closer and I could feel his smile against my cheek and hear the humor in his voice. “You need release. How long since you’ve been with a man?”

  “None of your fucking business, you nosy pervert.” I tapped his hand when he stilled. “Get on with it.” And above his wheezing laughter, the Oracle squeezed against my stomach, filtering into my muscle, my organs a fire of sensation that left my nails curling into my palms. “Here we are,” he said, swaying, and the crescendo of energy, of movement threatened to soak inside me, around me, until there was nothing at all but me and the magic pulsing, shifting, and away went the clot of life, of noise, of crowds, of all the everlasting reality. My gift crested, tingled in my synapses, brushed along my imagination as the Oracle whispered and chanted.

  After a moment, minutes that could have bent time, crushed realization, I could not hear anything or sense anything at all. There was only me floating, shifting above the earth. I was energy and vibration, something born of fire and bathed in light. Something that could not be defined, that would not be labeled. I was lost and found and I heard myself crying out.

  Just as quickly as that distance from reality had come upon me, it jerked free and I came back to myself, to that body, that skin, his hands upon me, that room around me. That grip holding, securing, whispering over and over that I would be fine.

  But as I opened my eyes, blinking past the muddy blur of light and shapes, it was not the Oracle that stilled me. I did not smell tobacco and the burning scent of eucalyptus. Bane held me firm, and I lifted my head—though I did not recall resting it on his chest—and blinked again when his sweet breath warmed my face.

  “You alright?” he asked, still holding me, pushing back a strand of loose hair out of my eyes. I couldn’t answer, couldn’t do more than watch him, trying to define the faint recollection of seeing the opened office door, my father watching from the threshold, hearing Bane when I’d moved away from myself. “Jani?” he said again, this time with the smallest shake against my arms.

  “Yeah.” He only released me when my father took me out of his reach and wrapped his arm around me.

  “She’s fine, Iles, don’t worry over her,” Papa told Bane.

  But the dizziness in my head had me gripping Papa’s sleeve and, despite my father’s warning, Bane still reached for me. “I’m fine,” I told him when he stepped close. “Really, I’m alright.”

  “You don’t look it.”

  “I’d say she’s just about in fighting shape.” The Oracle patted my shoulder. There were small clusters of sunflower seeds stuck between two teeth when he smiled at me. “Give yourself a bit and you’ll be squared away. And you,” he said to Bane, moving his head so he could watch the bigger wizard at his side rather than having to look up at him. “She’s got a rare gift. Best you mind paying her what she deserves.”

  “Batty.” But the old man ignored my fussing, then winked down at me.

  “You’re my brother’s girl, Janiver. What kind of kin would I be if I didn’t stick up for you?”

  I let Batty hold my hand, squeezing it once as I stepped away from all three wizards, then abruptly stumbled, only keeping upright when Bane looped an arm around my waist. “I’m…”

  “Fine, yeah, you said.” He straightened, glancing at my father when he cleared his throat. “Mr. Benoit?”

  “Give me a moment with my daughter, Iles, if you don’t mind.” His normally lilting voice was like ice.

  There was a hesitancy in Bane’s stature, but he did leave the room, following Batty out before he shut the door.

  “You need to be careful.”

  “I really don’t think this is the time, Papa.” He’d been cautioning me about the same thing my entire life, ever since I was ten and somehow managed to get lost in the forest with Bane.

  “Janiver, I’m only trying to think of what’s best for the Cove.”

  “Yes, Papa, I know you are. You always are.”

  There was a bite to my response, one my father must have caught, because his mouth went tight and he lifted his chin, as though he’d somehow taken offense to an insult I didn’t speak. Both Papa and Bane’s uncle had discovered us that day in the classroom, but it was my father’s warning that convinced me to block Bane’s memory of it.

  “Stay with him,” he’d told me then, “and your life will not be your own.”

  Staring at me now, I knew the same unwelcome warning was coming. Papa didn’t want me associating with Bane. He wanted me to stay far away from the wizard.

  “Papa, I’m here to do a job,” I told him, walking toward the door.

  “Just see that’s all you’re here to do, mon petite bebe.”

  My father left the bar through the front room before I could argue any further with him. I found Bane leaning against the wall as my uncle continued to lecture him about my payment.

  Batty cleared his throat, opening his mouth as though to fuss at Bane again, but the younger wizard waved his hand, silencing the old man with a flick of his fingers. “I know what she’s worth. Don’t worry about that.”

  Something caught my breath when Bane looked down at me, and I was reminded of that sensation from a few minutes earlier, of the feeling that though I’d moved beyond myself, I’d still heard Bane, sensed him near me. With him looking down at me, the air around us shifted and that familiar pulse, the taunting whisper of the lines told me to take what was mine.

  That was impossible. I’d blocked Bane’s memory of that day, and done away with mine. But just for a second I swore I saw something akin to recollection in Bane’s eyes, as though a light that had been dimmed years before was starting to flicker to life.

  “Jani…” His voice was low, and I let myself stare too long, let that ancient voice prick too sharply that this man belonged to me. “Jani…why do…”

  “Fine,” I interrupted, waving him off. “Feeling better already.” My smile was forced and the energy I pretended to have did a good job of bypassing the small moment we’d just shared. For Bane at least.

 
As I nodded toward the door, allowing Bane to lead the way, my uncle hung back, stood close enough so that only I could hear him. “I saw that, little one.”

  “You didn’t see a thing, old man.”

  “That right?” He stopped me, held me back while Bane slipped down the hallway. “Then why was that boy looking for all the world like you were something he’d misplaced and only just remembered he’d lost?”

  “It’s not like that at all, Batty.” But the Oracle knew things that I didn’t. He saw the truth no matter how deeply anyone tried to keep it hidden.

  A twist of his lips and those scrutinizing, narrowed eyes watched me close. “I suppose you’ve your reasons for keeping things to yourself.”

  “I do.” I couldn’t shake that look or ignore altogether the way Batty tried to unravel the knot I’d made of my past. He was simply too observant, too aware. “It’s not important.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, nièce,” Batty said, all the teasing, all the humor leaving his expression. “No matter what his folk lay before him, Iles has an obligation to the lines, the heartbeat beneath us. He has an obligation first to the one that claims him.”

  “Yeah and that’s Cari, not me.”

  “Horse shit.” Batty stepped closer, his eyes lit bright and a quick swirl of green edging around the irises. “There’s only one who’s claimed Bane Iles and we both know who that is. Don’t we?”

  But before I could answer, before my old uncle could finish his disapproving lecture, a crash sounded outside of the door and Bane’s loud voice growled into the nearly empty bar beyond the office.

  “Circe and Hera,” I grumbled, running from the office.

  “What is it? Can you see?” His regular eyesight was horrible, but he seemed to pick up the screech of my twin sister’s yell from across the bar. “Ah. It’s that rotten Ronan come after Mai again.”

  “Good,” I said, walking away from the Oracle. “I’ve got several choice words and one mean hex for my brother-in-law.”