Back Lash

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Back Lash Page 14

by Devon Monk


  Dash shook his head. From how pale he suddenly went, that probably hadn’t been such a good move. “Wouldn’t be anywhere else. Wouldn’t be with anyone else. No matter the cost.”

  Terric placed his fingertips gently on the side of Dash’s face.

  Dash didn’t wince at that contact.

  “I love you,” Terric whispered.

  Dash just swallowed and nodded.

  Jolie slid out from under her brother’s arm and Terric wrapped it instead around Dash, pulling him close. Then Terric bent to him, shifted his mouth so he could carefully, gently kiss him.

  Dash made a soft sound. It was not made out of pain.

  I’d always wondered what it would be like to be touched that way, kissed intimately by someone who was Life magic, who was living, healing, tenderness.

  Looked like it was not a bad thing at all.

  I would have walked out of the room and given them some privacy but they were blocking the damn doorway.

  Jolie stepped over to me and handed me my gun. “I don’t know what you did even though I saw it with my own eyes,” she said. “I don’t know how you did it, but thank you, Shame.”

  And then she draped her arms over my shoulders and planted a very hot, very thorough, and very sexy kiss on my mouth.

  The sound I made as I kissed her back wasn’t from pain either.

  Chapter 17

  I walked into the pediatric waiting room at the hospital on a sunny, bright morning. I had two cups of coffee in my hand. A man and woman sat leaning against each other in the small waiting area. From the pile of empty cups and coats folded into makeshift pillows, it looked as if they had spent the night in the chairs.

  “Greg?” I said, with cheerful, if fake, surprise. “I thought I’d find you down here. How’s Lolly doing?”

  He blinked blurry eyes red from lack of sleep—maybe from tears too—and frowned at me.

  “Promised I’d check in on you, remember?” I said, offering him one of the coffees. “Back at your office the other day?”

  “Uh...” he said as he took the coffee and glanced over at his wife, Claire. “Right. I remember.”

  “Shame?” Claire’s voice broke. “What are you doing here? I didn’t even know you were in town. It’s been...”

  “...a long time,” I finished for her. “It’s good to see you, Claire.”

  She smiled a little and tucked her mussy hair back behind her ears. She sat forward and straightened her T-shirt over a belly just beginning to round with life.

  “I work in the neighborhood with your husband,” I said. “Heard about your little girl and thought I’d come by and offer up some early morning courage. Coffee, cream, and extra sugar.”

  Just how she liked it.

  “Oh.” She took the cup I offered. “Thank you. That’s really nice of you. I didn’t know you knew Shame,” she said to Greg.

  “We just ran into each other,” I said. “Say, Greg, do you feel like stretching your legs?”

  He stood, the coffee in his hand forgotten. “Sure.” He sounded like he was ready to face down death—whether his daughter’s, or his own. “I’ll be right back, honey.”

  “Really good to see you, Claire,” I said, trying to keep it light.

  I didn’t wait to see if the confusion and guilt cleared from her eyes.

  I led the way at an easy stroll down the hall, past the larger waiting room, and off into a side corridor which ended with a fantastic view of the hills over Portland.

  “Here’s how this is going to go,” I said as we both stared out the window. “I’m going to remove those glyphs you let them cast on you—and yes, I can do that—and you are going to stay away from the Pisces and magic. All magic.”

  “Why would I do that?” he asked. “I’m all she has left.”

  I gave him an even stare. “If you keep your hands off magic, if you keep your mouth very, very shut, I will see that your daughter is healed. And no, I’m not going to tell you how.”

  I felt Terric enter Pediatric Intensive Care. Felt the Life magic flowing from his hands, healing. Healing a little two-year-old girl.

  “If you ever speak of it to anyone, even your wife, I will take this gift away.”

  I tipped my head down and let Death magic press cold knuckles into his spine. “Do you understand me?”

  He nodded, and a tear tracked out of the corner of his eye, maybe from exhaustion, maybe from relief.

  “Save her,” he begged. “If you can save her, I’ll do anything. Anything you ask.”

  “Good. Let’s find a private room. You’re gonna strip so I can cancel those spells.”

  ~~~

  Miraculous recovery. Total remission. The doctors couldn’t explain it. The doctors didn’t have to.

  Greg kept his mouth shut, took his happy wife and healthy daughter home. Last I heard, he was looking into how to get the fish tattoo removed too.

  “That is a lot of boxes,” Jolie announced as she clomped up the stairs from the basement.

  “Not my fault the lawyer hoarded things much too dangerous to keep in a cabin.” I sat on the couch, drinking a beer and watching some movie where a giant monster destroyed a vacation paradise.

  “You’re just lucky I’m sticking around to catalogue it all,” she said.

  “You are not staying. You are going back up to Seattle to school.”

  “Nope. Transferred. I’m a Portlandian now.”

  I groaned. “There is no more room in this house. I want my life back. I want my living room back.”

  “Poor selfish baby,” she cooed.

  “Poor?”

  “What, you have a real job?”

  I grinned. “I get by.”

  “It just so happens I found a place downtown. Not too far from here. Walking distance to everything interesting. Low rent and nice enough. I’ll invite you over once I settle in. I expect a hell of a house warming gift.”

  “You’ll get a second-hand re-gift, if you’re lucky.”

  “After everything I did for you?” She crossed the room and dropped down onto the couch like she owned it, propping her sneakers up next to mine on the coffee table which was scattered with a few paperback novels, her tablet, and a couple of things I thought she might use to hold back her hair.

  She looked good there. Comfortable. At home. And while this damn house was in no way big enough to take in another Conley, I realized I liked having her around.

  I’d never admit it to her, but I was glad she would be staying in town.

  “All you did for me was get me mixed up with the Russian mob and their wand-wielding henchmen. Who, by the way, shot the crap out of me and ruined my favorite T-shirt.”

  She shrugged one shoulder and tried not to look guilty about that. “All your T-shirts are exactly the same. And you would have gotten shot anyway, right?”

  “Maybe not by the Russian mob if some smartass hacker hadn’t screwed with their bank accounts.”

  “About that. The whole mess...”

  “The part where you stole funds from the mob, or the part where you didn’t tell us you knew magic was involved?”

  “All of it. I was in pretty deep. I don’t know how I would have gotten out without you and Terric and Dash.”

  We’d gotten news back from the Russians. They had agreed to cut their losses and leave Jolie, and everyone connected to her, alone for a lifetime or two.

  “You would have managed,” I said, “but I’m not sure if the outcome would have been as favorable. Or as easy.”

  “That wasn’t anywhere near easy. Terric almost died. So did you.”

  I made a rude sound. “Yeah, well, neither of us are any good at staying dead for long.”

  “I mean it, Shame. I didn’t have any right to drop this on your doorstep, but I did. And I want to thank you. Thank you for helping me. Thank you for saving my lif
e.”

  She looked like she was on the edge of tears.

  It had been a couple days since we’d had to go kill anyone, and all of us were healed—physically anyway—including all those glyph marks on Terric. But these kinds of experiences, when the whole world turns upside down and gets bloody and horrible, can change a person.

  I knew her world would never be the same again.

  “You’re welcome,” I said simply, even though in some ways I thought maybe I ought to be the one who apologized to her.

  “That’s it?” she asked.

  I raised an eyebrow. “There should be more?”

  “Seems like you might...want something?” She tipped her head up, gave me an even stare.

  I didn’t know what she thought she was offering, with that look in her eyes. “I want you to move out so I can have my damn couch back. One Conley in this house is one too many.”

  “Well, maybe I want to give you something.” She stood, her gaze holding mine.

  I took another drink of my beer. Waited.

  “Something I’ve been thinking about the last couple days.” She stepped over my legs, so she was straddling them. Bent so that her hair swung forward across her cheeks and her T-shirt opened at the collar to slip me a peak at the black lace of her bra.

  “Oh?” I managed, though my mouth had gone dry.

  “I only got one try, but I liked the taste of you.” She whispered it and my heart went too hot, my pulse too fast.

  She leaned in a little closer, so that her perfume and the candy scent of her lip balm filled my senses.

  I opened my mouth, waiting for her lips, wanting her mouth on mine so I could taste her back.

  “Hey,” Dash called out, as he walked through the front door. “Got the last load of boxes out front. Could use a hand unloading.”

  He paused once he caught sight of Jolie and me.

  “Unless you’re busy or something?”

  Ass.

  Jolie bit her bottom lip and smiled. “Too bad,” she murmured. “That might have been fun.”

  I lifted a hand, but she was already straightening, stepping over my legs and walking toward Dash. “I’m not busy or something,” she said. “I’ll help.”

  She strolled across the room and out into the sunshine.

  Damn. It.

  Dash gave me a look. “Really, Shame?”

  “Hey, she started it. I was sitting here. Innocently.”

  “Innocently?”

  “Innocently.”

  “Who’s innocent?” Terric asked, walking into the room.

  Terric was healed now and looked like he’d never had a mark on him in his life. Dash too. As a matter of fact, I had heard just how thorough Terric had been about going over every inch of Dash’s body the last couple nights.

  I needed to soundproof my room.

  “Shame, is innocent, apparently,” Dash said.

  Terric slipped his arm around Dash and Dash returned the favor, leaning into him a bit. They looked good together. Relaxed. Happy. I wondered if they were done fighting about Dash moving out.

  “So when are you two moving out?” I asked.

  “We’re not,” Dash said. “I talked to the Canadian company. They’re fine with me working freelance from home. So I’m thinking about converting a corner of the basement into an office.”

  I groaned and pushed up out of the chair. “Were you going to run that by me? Maybe I have plans for the basement. Plans for my basement.”

  Terric shrugged. “Consider it run by you.” He released Dash, who grinned and walked out the front door to help with the unloading.

  “Hell,” I said without any heat. “So. You two figured it out? The job thing?”

  Terric nodded. “I was being an idiot about it. Luckily, I got over it. Plus, the way things are now, there was no way he was going to leave.”

  “The way what things are now?”

  “The Russians can’t be the only ones looking to break into magic. Even if we lock all the books in the basement, people will keep trying to reach magic. People have always tried to find magic, have always wanted to use it.”

  I nodded. “That’s not all that different than a month ago.”

  “But now we know they’ve found a way. Those wands...”

  “You and I will know if anyone uses anything connected to them. Connections work both ways.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Which means you and I are now the guardians of magic. You know that, don’t you? We’re the guardians of that secret lore we’re U-Hauling into the basement. Guardians of innocent people—children—not being hurt and killed by those who break and twist magic just to have magic.”

  “We broke magic,” I reminded him.

  “We broke magic to save magic. To save people.”

  “So you’re suggesting that we, what? Start a new secret group? Revive the secret Authority again?”

  “Something like that.” His gaze was even, blue, bright with intelligence and caring and Life magic.

  “And who, exactly, are you going to allow into our new secret magic club?”

  “Just you and me.”

  “And Dash?”

  “And Dash,” he agreed.

  “What about your sister?”

  “She doesn’t need to be mixed up in something as dangerous as the guarding of magic.”

  “She’s already mixed up in it. I think she can handle it.”

  “Vote of confidence?” he said. “Out of you? Is she blackmailing you?”

  “N-no.” I stuttered.

  His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Is there something going on between you?”

  “C’mon, Terric,” I said side-stepping that question like a boss. “You know I can’t be blackmailed. I don’t care about anything enough for someone to threaten me with it. But she’s smart, she’s been through a hell of a lot with us over the last couple days. And she’s going to catalogue all those magic books for us. How do you suggest we keep her out of our secret group?”

  “Shit,” he said. “Shit.”

  “Don’t worry, big brother. Our secrets are safe with her.”

  Jolie strode into the room, a box of books in her arms. “Are you two still standing here?”

  Dash strolled in behind her, pushing a dolly stacked with boxes. “It’d go a lot faster if the two of you helped unload,” he said.

  “Someone has to supervise,” Terric and I said at exactly the same time.

  Jolie snorted. “Weird.”

  Dash shook his head. “Fine. Supervise lunch, would you? I’m starving.”

  They crossed to the hall, then I heard them take the stairs down.

  “You do it,” I said, walking back to the couch and snagging up my beer.

  “It’s your turn to cook,” Terric said.

  “Rock, paper, scissors?”

  “You are such a child.” But he placed his fist in his palm.

  Terric threw paper, I threw scissors.

  “Ha!” I said.

  He sighed. “You know I threw that game. You’re a terrible cook, Shame, and none of us should eat the result of your failure.”

  “Well, then why don’t you whip me up a steak, rare, with a nice pile of fresh cut fries on the side, Lord Chef.”

  “You’re getting gravel and dirt. Maybe. I might let you pour ketchup on it if you stay out of my way while I work.”

  “Make it quick, your Highness.”

  “Blow me, Shame.”

  “What? So soon? I thought you and Dash last night...”

  He walked toward the kitchen and bent his hand behind his back to flip me the bird.

  I grinned, took a swallow of beer.

  Something crashed in the basement, followed by laughter. Terric paused for a second, maybe checking to see if there were any broken bones that needed healing. Then he st
epped into the kitchen humming, content and unconcerned.

  I propped my foot up on the coffee table and turned up the volume on the movie.

  Some people don’t die easy.

  I knew I was surrounded by those kinds of people. Strong people.

  Survivors. Companions. Family.

  And that, sure as hell, was worth living hard for.

  THE END

  Sneak peek of Devon Monk’s new series...

  DEATH AND RELAXATION

  Ordinary Magic book 1

  Devon Monk

  “Delaney,” my father whispered. “Wake up.”

  I reached for the gun under my pillow and pushed my quilt aside. My heart hammered as I searched the shadows of the room for my dad.

  He wasn’t there. And he shouldn’t be. He’d been dead for a year now.

  “Dad?” I asked anyway. No reply. I took a few steady breaths until the dual waves of hope and grief that had crashed down over me were bearable again.

  The night of his death was still embedded in my mind. My sisters and me responding to the emergency call. His truck crumpled at the bottom of the cliff. Ben Rossi and Jame Wolfe in their fire-fighting gear rappelling down the sea cliff to bring his body out of the cab.

  It hadn’t been raining. The moon was full and bright enough I had almost forgotten to turn on the headlights of my Jeep.

  Dry pavement, familiar road. They still didn’t know how it had happened. Still didn’t know why a man who had grown up in this little town on this little stretch of Oregon beach, a man who knew the roads like the beat of his own heart, had driven right off the edge of a cliff.

  I set the gun next to my Police Chief badge on the wooden step ladder I used as a side table and sighed.

  I needed to be at the station in a couple hours to relieve my sister, Jean, from the night shift. By the time I fell back to sleep—if I fell back to sleep—it would be time to get up. I rubbed a hand over my face and scrubbed hot, dry eyes.

  It was going to take a lot of caffeine to get me through the day.

  I stood and tugged at the Grateful Dead t-shirt that had belonged to Dad. I hadn’t had the heart to give to the thrift shop. I was stiff from yesterday's run, and rolled my shoulders as I bare-footed it through the little living room into the kitchen.

 

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