Forgotten Magic

by Eden Butler

  “Is that what you’re doing?” He moved closer and my only response was to laugh at his boldness. The Malak I’d known back at Crimson Cove Regional would have probably vomited before daring to even look at me. “This is you flirting?”

  “How am I at it?”

  There was a compliment hanging around somewhere near the tip of my tongue. Malak seemed to sense it was coming. He even moved closer and I forgot about who and where I was. Just for a second, I appreciated being a witch getting the attention of a handsome wizard.

  “You, little cousin, are shit at it,” Bane said, breaking the spell just as easily as if he’d shot a hex between us as he walked out onto the deck.

  Malak lowered his shoulders, but he didn’t jerk away from me. That smile kept on his mouth and he even managed a quick wink before he stood to face his cousin. “Oh, I dunno. If my history is anything to go by…”

  “Edie Daniels has worked her way through most of the wizards in the Cove and Sarah Proctor is addicted to Elysium. She’ll flirt with anyone with means.”

  “That’s below the belt. Sarah is…”

  “With that vamp from Ruston, strung out by now.” He slipped his gaze to me, grunting when I frowned at him before he looked back at Malak. Addicts were nothing to tease anyone about. Bane knew that. Elysium had killed many a good witch and wizard in the Cove the past few years. Though he hadn’t proven it yet, Sam suspected the kid that killed his wife had been strung out on the drug.

  Bane cleared his throat and rubbed the bridge of his nose as though he was already tired of the conversation. “The Shreveport den is ahead of schedule and will be here in an hour. Can you get with Lennon about their quarters? I need to talk to Jani.”

  “Later, Miss Benoit,” Malak said, a tease in his tone that made me smile and his cousin release a noise that was half grunt, half growl.

  “Mr. Grant,” I said, rolling my eyes when I caught Bane’s tight jaws working. “You need to relax.”

  “You need to…to…” He shook his head and that in-check temper he’d managed to keep under control slipped to the surface. “You’re being unprofessional.”

  “Me?” He didn’t move when I stood in front of him. Bane squared his shoulders, glaring at me like a kid pouting for the lecture he knew was coming. I ignored that expression and the temper that flared to the surface, coloring his skin. “I’m not the one fussing at a kid for flirting with one of your temporary employees. That’s what you called me, right?”

  “I didn’t mean…”

  “What did you mean then?”

  It was stupid. The entire argument. It was rash and immature and utterly pointless. There was little sense in either of us being angry or lashing out. And when I realized where we were and what was happening, a rush of embarrassment flooded me.

  Bane opened his mouth, seeming ready with another argument, but remained quiet when I held up my hand. He dented his eyebrows, bending them together as I walked to the edge of the deck and stepped down onto the ground that led toward the lake.

  “What is it?”

  I didn’t answer immediately, deciding instead to slip my eyes shut and tilt my head back, letting the hum of energy around us vibrate against my skin. “It reacts to everything, doesn’t it?”

  “Of course it does.” He moved to my side. Even in the darkness I could make out the shape of his body from the warmth his wide frame gave off.

  “I’d forgotten about that.”

  “Your nexus is open now and wide.” Bane moved closer, and the scent of bourbon and woodsmoke mingled with that familiar smell of sandalwood that always came from his hair. “The lines will exaggerate everything you feel tonight. Anger, happiness, frustration…” His voice was so deep, I swear I felt it rattle my insides, shatter any control I pretended I had around him. “Desire…”

  The breath in my lungs froze and I jerked my gaze to him, knowing the look I gave him wasn’t hidden, couldn’t be remotely concealed this close to the lines. Whatever irritation Bane felt, no matter what he couldn’t remember, Freya had been right, there had always been chemistry between us. It was there now, pulsing and pulling until I turned to face him.

  A small breeze picked up against the water and I shuddered, trying to push back the sensation of longing building inside me at Bane’s scent. Did the lines push us together or some other mystical force draw us closer despite the expectations laid at both our feet? I had no clue where that inclination came from—didn’t much care, if I was being honest. But out here under the bright moon, with the lines humming behind us and Bane standing close enough that I could feel the heat of his body, nearly feel the whisper of his breath, that closeness was like a weight I thought I’d dropped years ago.

  It never left you, the lines sang, and in my mind, I imagined that tone was a bit smug.

  Still, it wasn’t wrong. But it was pointless. The truth was useless when reality serves up a generous helping of impossibility.

  He blinked at me, then tilted his head as, I guessed, he also sensed the steady buzz of magic pulsing from the lines. Bane closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled and rested a hand on my shoulder as though he needed help just standing upright.

  He was so ruggedly beautiful, so impossible to resist that I had to remind myself we weren’t alone, his guards would likely notice if I stood there staring at him helplessly for so long. But before I brought my attention away from his sharp features and the subtle, soft hint of stubble along his jaw, Bane grinned, a slow, amused twitch of his mouth, and then he glanced at me as though he found it the height of funny to catch me gawking.

  “Your eyes are telling secrets, Jani.”

  “Hardly.” I tried forcing an eye roll I didn’t mean. Bane wasn’t buying it. He didn’t seem overly concerned that his guards were inside and the Shreveport den would soon arrive. He, in fact, somehow stood closer, arms crossed so that his elbow brushed against my bicep.

  “It doesn’t mean anything, you know.”

  “What doesn’t?” My question came out too quickly, the words too clipped as he inched closer. He liked to torture me, I knew that, but I’d never seen him enjoy doling out that torture so openly.

  “The attraction you feel.” Bane shot his thumb over his shoulder. “The lines, the raw feel of them—without the Elam they aren’t buffered.” He twisted his head as though he tried to shake off a sensation that was teasing and good, but very bad for him. “It’s in our nature, Jani. The lines unhindered, raw, they just bring it from us.” Bane was easily five inches taller than me, and as he crowded closer, he used that height to his advantage with his breath fanning over the top of my head. “They’ll only get stronger.” It wasn’t anything I hadn’t already guessed, but that claim coming from him, with that air of seduction in his tone, made me realize, finally, what that might mean. Uninhibited magic influencing every magical creature, no voice of reason to temper our behavior should we get too close. God help me, I’d cave.

  “What is it about you, Jani?” He’d said my name like that once, a long time ago. But one look, one real, honest examination of my expression and Bane had guessed. I wanted him, and my name falling from his mouth in that throaty, eager whisper was all it had taken to unravel my hesitation. “You love this, don’t you? The raw feel of the lines. It frees you so much, doesn’t it?”

  My fingers rubbing against my eyelids, another breath against the top of my head and the sweet, warm bourbon scent brought my awareness away from the never-dimming desire to kiss him. He was twisting magic, working me over on purpose. Bane let the lines take him over, just a bit. His control was waning as he moved his fingers through the ends of my hair.

  “It would free anyone who…who’d been away for so long,” I told him, curling my arms around my waist like I could really protect myself from him.

  “They’ll get stronger,” he said, taking one wavy strand of hair off my shoulder to curl around his finger. “They’ll get stronger and you’ll want to lose control.”

  Eyes cl
osed tight, I saw what that loss of control would look like. Something erotic and inappropriate involving that large wizard next to me and lots and lots of fallen red maple leaves sticking to our naked skin.

  I blinked, stepped out of his reach to block that imaginary scenario. “That is not going to happen.”

  “Why not?” he asked, moving in front of me, keeping me from retreating further away from him.

  I arched an eyebrow and smiled. “Why do you think, Mr. Iles?”

  His shoulders fell and the tension crowded around his features again when my small words pushed reality right back into his mind. One low grunt and Bane turned his head, attention back on the sky above us. “You know how to ruin a moment, don’t you?”

  “Was that a moment?” I teased, trying not to laugh when Bane started working his jaw.

  His gaze flashed back at me and some of that irritation lessened the severity of his expression. “Could have been.”

  Sometimes Bane let a little emotion—real emotion that had nothing to do with teasing or trying to bait me into a reaction—pass in his eyes. I saw it just then. It was sincerity, maybe a little longing, but I couldn’t stop and give it much weight. How could I when that would lead to nothing but disappointment?

  I cleared my throat, bringing my gaze down to the ground where I kicked a rock with the tip of my boot. “I don’t think your fiancée would have appreciated any moments you might have wanted with me.”

  “Probably not,” he said and the humor in his voice was forced, as though he’d noticed the real emotion had snuck in for a moment and he needed to tamp it down quickly. Bane put back on that dominant, in-control mask and moved his head, trying to catch my eye. “But that doesn’t mean they won’t happen anyway.”

  “That’s a little selfish of you, don’t you think?” When he squinted at me as though he were confused, I clarified. “You engaging in moments not reserved for the witch you’re supposed to marry.”

  “Maybe, but you know, Miss Benoit, I’m not married yet.” He stepped even closer, bringing my hair back between his fingers. “And when the right moments come, I generally don’t care who they’re with.”

  It was a lie, one that I saw clearly through his arrogant demeanor. “That doesn’t say much for your pending marriage. Or future happiness.” I pulled on his wrist but couldn’t find the energy to move his fingers from my hair.

  It was then that I saw the hardness of his features for what they truly were: regret. “Who the hell ever said there would be a happy future for me?”

  He let me hold his wrist, let me hold the moment between us, forgetting our lives and the situation he’d soon find himself in. In that small pause, we were kids again, in that room, sharing a moment that was ours alone. But Bane was never one to linger on sadness or things that gave anyone a reason to pity him. Pressing his lips together, he dislodged his hold from my hair, pausing long enough to brush his thumb over my cheek before he stepped away from me.

  “Which reminds me why I came out here in the first place…” The professional coolness was back and behind it was the hard edges of irritation. “Caridee will join the search and, at the insistence of my uncle and your father, so will your brother.”

  Of course they will, I thought, cursing both men.

  “Is that right?”

  “You and your sister can keep the guest room for tonight, and when we leave, she can remain with Lennon. We’ll split into camps when the other covens and dens arrive.” The way Bane cleared his throat, how that small pulse ticked on the side of his jaw, told me enough that he was irritated by the next bit of news. “You, Sam, me, and Cari will be in one camp…”

  “You’re joking.”

  “Wish I was,” he started, hurrying to explain when I shook my head. “If that…”

  I looked up at the sky, catching the moon overhead, not interested in any excuses. “I’m home. I get it. Higher and lower covens. Hierarchies…and our family is bound to yours. I understand the rules.” Bane’s frown relaxed and he took a step toward me, though he didn’t touch me. I didn’t give him a chance. “Save the reasoning. I haven’t forgotten how things work here, but let’s get one thing clear. I don’t play well with mean girls. Especially with mean girls who think I’m after their man.”

  The look he gave me was quick, sharp, as though he wasn’t sure if he should be offended or amused. Bane was never one to show his cards, not if he could help it. “Cari will be fine…” I moved my head, releasing an unamused laugh and he amended. “She’ll behave or I’ll send her back. That sound fair?”

  “None of this is fair, but I can handle it.”

  Before he could ask to elaborate, I waved him off, walking away, looking back only once. I didn’t miss the expression on his face, one that had me thinking he wanted me to see the promise in his expression with the low glance of his eyes over my body. That expression, that promise he gave, was a challenge he wanted me to take. But as I climbed back up the steps, I knew the challenge would be unmatched. Just like us, it’d be the game I’d refuse to play with him.

  Seven

  There was fire in my veins. It ran deep, blistering across my skin, curling the fine hair of my arms, and I crawled from it. The lines were feet from me, teasing, tempting, a hum of energy that wanted to claim me. I needed only to reach out with my flaming fingers and touch that lick of magic as it waved like a current, burning hotter than the inferno beneath my skin.

  “No! Get away!”

  It wasn’t my voice. The tone was frantic, tight. Desperate.

  Familiar.

  “Get…”

  But I was so close and the power inside that current, the sweet freedom it offered, was too much. Even the slow drip of raw power emanating from the active line made me drunk. It compelled me closer, had me reaching nearer.

  And then…there was blood and a piercing scream. It rattled me to the quick, soaked inside me deeper than the fire, harsher than any scorching mark the lines could make.

  “Jani! Help me! Please, someone…no!”

  The thin blanket tangled around me as I thrashed awake, kicking the small table at my side. “Mai! Where are you?”

  The room was dark, with only the dim lights from the overhead oven light giving me any clue that I’d fallen asleep in the connecting den waiting for Freya to return. My head spun and a burning throb rushed through my fingers and along my arms. Holding them ached and I hurried into the kitchen, turning the faucet, half-dizzy, still not sure if that had been a dream or some sort of vision sent to warn me.

  Then the familiar sensation began to creep into my stomach. It burned worse than the fire from my vivid dream. Scorched deeper.

  “Oh…gods…no.”

  It couldn’t be this. Not again. Not…fucking again.

  Before I hit the kitchen floor, overwhelmed by grief and fear, the thunder of running feet came to me then, Mai’s arms, soft, sweet and the smell of her skin, the feel of the silk wrap holding her hair up, smoothed against me. She held me so tight, her fingers pulling at my shirt like she wanted to hold onto me just so I would know she had me.

  “Jani…it’s dark. It’s so damn dark. I feel the darkness everywhere. You’re in so much pain… Just like when…oh Circe and Hera…just like…”

  “Mama,” I finished for her, gripping my sister’s arm.

  We were connected. Blood bonded us. Magic and DNA sealed us. What I felt, so did my twin. But if our instincts were linked, so was our magicks. Mai was a healer. I was not. She couldn’t spin hexes to maim like I could, but we shared visions, sensations when we dreamed, when there was danger; what it was and how dark it would be. Mai may have not seen all that I’d dreamed, but she felt the darkness of whatever that beast had been.

  Helpless, I gripped her tighter, inching closer to her. My twin let me rest my face on her shoulder, giving me a second to breathe, to let her hold me for once, despite the tremble of her arms and the chill pebbling her bare skin. It was a reprieve before I told her what to do. It didn’t happe
n often. Mai wasn’t good with panic situations, but she managed just then.

  “Jani?” I heard Bane ask, his voice deep, worried. His signature and scent thickened the air around us, and I tightened my eyes, trying not to let it overwhelm me. Bane was anxious, that much I could sense. He had always been my protector, and seeing me like this had to fire off something basic and primal inside him. It triggered that connection we had and heightened the need to touch him.

  The old charms and incantations came to me then, flashing behind my closed eyes like glyphs flying in the air so that I caught them, seeing the runes until I knew which one to focus on, which one would center me so that calm would burn away the fear and worry. Mai’s touch helped. Her soothing, sweet voice was like a melody as she held me. Bane’s scent did as well, though it did nothing to ease that deep, dark desire I had to cling to him. Especially when he knelt beside us, seeming to wait for answers that would either have him charging off to kill whatever thing had me weak and helpless or take Mai’s place to protect me from the world.

  Neither option would be smart.

  “Call Papa,” I finally told my sister, pulling away from her when the spell had done its job. “We have to make sure it’s not Sam.” When she stiffened and gripped my fingers, I knew the possibility hadn’t occurred to her. Her job at consoling was done. “Go,” I told her, unable to settle enough to stand. “Hurry.”

  The taste of blood was still in my mouth and, fainter, more bitter, a hint of sweat and the sound…my body shook as that noise echoed inside my head. Bane would be no help. He couldn’t take this from me, so I went into myself, gave myself the only comfort I could with my face in my hands and my tears forced tight behind my eyes. I would not cry in front of him.

  But still he came to me. Slow. Easy. He was at my side, his large hand on my shoulder, his fingers brushing the damp hair from my forehead. “Tell me,” he said, the words like a plea.