by Dianna Hardy
Looking at Amy, Elena realised that she actually looked genuine for a change. Had she been wrong about her?
“Well, I'm not a good social speaker...” To be honest, the whole thing seemed so completely insignificant compared to last night's events. Surely she could lead one session without exposing her magic. “But, no time like the present to learn, right?”
Amy beamed another smile that reached her blue eyes, and Elena found herself smiling back.
“I'm sorry, I've not really made enough of an effort to get to know everyone. Life's just been kind of hectic.” She placed Amy's water in front of her.
“Oh, I know what that's about. Thanks.”
“Amy, how did you know I lived here?”
Looking sheepish, she wrinkled her nose. “I did a locator spell. Sorry. I know that's kind of rude, but I did try to call you first.”
Not seeing her mobile phone anywhere, Elena remembered it was on her bedroom desk, still turned off.
Well, I guess that makes us even – I use a spell on you, you use a spell on me. But part of her was also surprised that Amy had that kind of power. Sure, an air of magic did surround her all the time, just as it did Elena, but it took years to get a locator spell accurate. Amy had obviously been practising since she was young, and Elena was starting to realise she'd gotten the woman all wrong.
“Listen – me and some of my coven members are meeting on Tuesday night for some spellworking. Would you like to come along?”
Would she? She wasn't sure to be honest … but she had just been thinking it would be nice to hang out with some girlfriends and get away from her thoughts, even from her thoughts about Karl...
“I mean … you are a Solitary, aren't you? It wouldn't be breaking your own coven's rules?
“No, I am a Solitary.” Now was probably not the right time to go into her long and complicated family history. “I think that would be nice.”
“Great. Here, let me give you my number.”
Before Elena knew what was happening, Amy had reached across the table for the pen and notebook.
“No!”
Something that looked like a small bolt of lightning shot out from the pen into Amy's hand. A scream filled the air and Amy's hand went up like a fireball.
“Oh my God, help me!”
Elena's own magic tingled in response to Amy's cry of pain, immediately dulling her shock as her hands filled with blue light. Trying to zone out the woman's screams of terror, she directed it at the fire and the flames grew smaller, gradually fizzling out. When it had died completely, she took Amy's ruined hand into her own and her light turned green. Amy's hand began to heal straight away. Burnt shreds of skin fell away to reveal new, unmarred skin beneath.
Amy's screams had become whimpers, no longer carrying pain, just disbelief.
When her hand had completely healed, Elena released it.
The air was heavy with shock and the smell of burnt skin, sickeningly sweet, clung to it. She wanted to offer a logical explanation, but none came to mind. The only thing that came to mind, was the certainty that any friendship with Amy had ended before it had begun. So she was surprised when Amy's next words were laced with awe.
“That's some powerful shit you've got going on.”
“God, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?”
“Thanks to you. What's with that pen?”
“Er … it came my way – there's a curse on it. I'm trying to undo it.” It was as close to the truth as she could muster. “I should have moved it, Amy, I'm so sorry – I had no idea you would try to pick it up.”
Amy let out a weak laugh. “Why would you. Don't worry about it. So … Tuesday?”
Elena looked at her in surprise. She still wanted her to come over? “Um … if you're still happy with that, that would be great.”
“Okay. Well, I'm going to go now – I have to meet someone.” She eyed the pen suspiciously. She clearly couldn't wait to get out of there.
“Yes, you said. I really am sorry.”
“It wasn't your fault. It's cool.”
With one more of her big smiles, this one more forced than the one before, she headed towards the door.
“Well, thanks for coming over.”
“Okay. See you Tuesday. Oh … I didn't write down my number.” She glanced towards the kitchen again, unsure of what to do.
“You know what, I think I still have your number from a few months back when I joined the group.”
“Oh, okay then. Well, bye.”
And then she was gone.
Elena shut the door.
So that's what happens when someone else touches the pen.
~*~
“Did you see it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you touch it?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“My hand went up in flames and it hurt like hell. Elena healed it. Powerful.”
“Yes, she is.”
“I was talking about the pen.”
“Don't underestimate her, Amy. She's more than she seems.”
“So, what do you want me to do now?”
The Elder sighed with regret. “The pen must be destroyed. I was hoping with your powers, you'd be able to bring it to us. We'll have to think of a new way to get it. While the owner of the pen is alive, no one else can touch it.”
Amy fidgeted. “I don't want to hurt Elena. There must be another way.”
“You'd better look for it then, because destroying the pen is our priority. If that means killing the witch, so be it.”
Chapter Five
Karl and Elena sat at the breakfast table, which also served as their dining table, eating their Indian takeaway. The autumn sun was just beginning to set and Karl was trying very hard not to stare at the way it bounced off Elena's hair, creating a kaleidoscope of the season's colours around her face. If anyone was in doubt she was a magical being, they wouldn't have any trouble believing it now.
She glanced up at him and gave him a quick smile. He wrenched his eyes away and took another mouthful of Biryani.
“Do you think it's a good idea?” she asked.
“Going over to Amy's on Tuesday?” She had filled him in on the day's events. “I don't think it would do any harm – might be good to get your mind off things. We all need a break.”
He hadn't meant that last sentence to come out sounding as harsh as it did, but Elena wasn't the only one getting a little frazzled now that night was almost upon them. He'd vowed to look after her while she slept and he wasn't going to go back on his word. Exactly how he was going to look after her though, was something he hadn't fully considered. If last night repeated itself, he'd have to pull her out of sleep. Would he have to watch her screaming in terror again? Or, asked the darker half of his mind, would he have to watch her getting hot and bothered while the demon worked his mojo on her? He inwardly groaned at the memory of how her skin felt last night – feverish, sweaty – he should have thought more carefully about how to go about this. Of course, Elena's safety came first, but where she was concerned, he was also a man harbouring unrequited love and unfulfilled needs … for too many years. When she'd let her guard down and they'd almost kissed yesterday, he'd let himself feel what he never dared to acknowledge: hope. Now, a new fire that was hard to temper kept licking at his heart, refusing to be put out...
“Penny for your thoughts?”
He swallowed the last of his food. “Just trying to plan tonight. Make sure we don't leave anything to chance.” His response was purposely ambiguous and he looked at her pointedly to gauge her reaction.
She went a little pale at the mention of tonight and he suddenly felt bad for bringing it up. “I'm sorry—”
“No, don't be. You're right, and I need to think about it. I mean, I have been. I wish I knew how to stop him appearing.”
“How about using the pen?”
She shrugged. “I doubt he'd have given me a pen that I could use against him, but it's worth a shot.”
It was still there on the table, where it had been since the early hours of the morning. She picked it up along with the notebook and wrote:
The Shanka demon can no longer enter my dreams.
Then she held out the pen to Karl.
“What?”
“You need to write something. You never have. We know you can touch the pen, but we don't know if you can use it.”
He nodded, wondering why he'd never tried to use it. He guessed it was because he could never think of anything to write. It was like that with birthday cards too – he never knew what to put in them.
He took the pen and book from her and faltered.
“Just write anything – anything trivial that won't matter if it comes to pass.”
“Erm...” God, he was useless at this.
Elena's hair turned blue.
“Hey!”
“What?”
“I don't want blue hair! What the hell did you write that for?”
“It seemed trivial.”
“Blue hair – blue? That's trivial? What if I can't undo it?”
Karl stared at her blankly. His throat went dry. He felt like a total dickhead, but writing really wasn't his strong point, so he went for humour instead and flashed her a grin.
“I was going to write that all your clothes fall off, but figured you may have a problem with that. This was the second thing that came to mind.”
Elena scowled, but a hint of a smile graced the corner of her mouth. “If I wake up with blue hair tomorrow morning, I'm turning you into a toad.”
“And if you kiss me, will I turn into a prince?”
She rolled her eyes. “You're impossible.”
“No, you're impossible … and even if your hair was blue, you'd still be the most beautiful woman on the planet.”
“Creep.”
“Am I off the hook yet?”
She snatched the pen away from him.
He stared at her hair in shock.
Her mouth fell open in horror and her hands flew to her head. “What? No … oh no!”
“Gottcha.”
His fit of laughter was met with her scream of frustration and it wasn't long before they were both running around the flat as she threw inanimate objects at him.
“Conjelo!”
He stopped. He had no choice, his legs were rooted to the spot. “Hey! No fair, you're not supposed to use magic.”
“Says who?” she asked innocently.
“You. You and all your rules you like to follow.”
“Now, now,” she came up behind him, trailing a finger over his shoulder as he struggled to move his limbs. “Who's the one who likes to break them?”
He growled in anger, surprised to find that he actually was angry. Feeling physically helpless was a fear he constantly tried to overcome, ever since the first time his dad ever raised his hand. This wasn't helping.
“Okay, you win. Can you unfreeze me now?”
“Why would I want to do that? It's not often I get you where I want you.” Her voice was low and seductive – a warning bell went off in his head.
“Elena?”
She was facing him now, stroking his chest through his shirt. Odd flecks of green shimmered amid the hazel in her eyes and the air filled with a strange kind of heat that felt almost electric. “Have you noticed how you're always so impervious to everything?”
Impervious? She's got to be kidding.
She teased his skin with her fingernails and he quickly became aware of his growing erection pushing against the front of his jeans. When she grazed his nipples, his groan reverberated in his throat – it escaped his lips when she brought a hand down and rubbed it against his crotch.
“Not so impervious now, are we?”
“Elena.” He tried to keep the huskiness out of his voice and failed. “I'm not sure this is you.”
Those strange green lights were still dancing in her eyes and he had an awful feeling he knew where they'd come from, he just wasn't sure how they'd gotten there.
“Honey, you need to snap out of it.” He hoped he sounded more sure than he felt – half of him didn't want her to snap out of it – but he didn't want it to happen like this, under her spell. She rarely used magic on him, and never without his permission.
“Or maybe,” she whispered, “I should snap you out.”
She brought his zipper down.
Shit!
His voice trembled on his breath. “Elena, stop.”
The phone rang.
Oh, sweet Jesus, thank you!
~*~
The sound of the phone hit her like a bucket of cold water.
What the hell just happened?
It was as if she'd just landed in her own body, only her body was mashed up against Karl's and touching him in ways it shouldn't be.
When she finally wrenched herself away from him she realised just how aroused she really was. She looked up at Karl in confusion. His eyes held a mixture of desire, anger and … hurt.
Oh, God, what have I just done?
He pulled his zipper up, then looked at his hands, relief evident in his face. Without another glance at her he ran towards the phone.
Elena's head was in a mess. She remembered them eating, Karl writing something stupid with the pen, them running around the room, then … then what? That's where her memory seemed to falter. Had she put a spell on him?
Her memory offered up a word: Conjelo.
Yes, I put a freezing spell on him.
Her heart weighed heavy in her chest. No wonder he'd looked hurt – she'd practically violated him with magic.
She frowned. What on earth had possessed her to freeze him? There must have been a trigger, but she couldn't recall anything significant before the word came flying out of her mouth. Just … just that she'd wanted him to stop so she could …
Her cheeks flushed hot.
I wanted to kiss him.
That was it. They were having a laugh and messing around, just like yesterday; she'd remembered their near kiss and had wanted it to happen again. Just like that. So the word had come flying out of her mouth and all sense went flying out of her head. Never in her life had she lost control of her magic like that.
Tears burned in her eyes. How could I have done that to him?
Karl reappeared in the doorway and stood there, telephone in one hand. He studied her cautiously.
“Karl—”
“It was your mum. She said she's found some more info – she's going to pop it around tomorrow.”
“Karl—”
He held up his hand. “Can we talk about this later? I just need a bit of time, okay?”
“Okay...” she whispered.
He turned and headed up the stairs. A minute later, she heard the shower come on. The tears behind her eyes finally fell, and she sank onto the sofa alone.
She didn't know when she fell asleep, just that she had no idea she was falling.
After Karl had left, she'd turned the telly on to get her mind off the guilt overwhelming her. Some black and white B-horror movie was on. Maybe her mistake was leaning her head on the cushion, but one minute, she was staring at zombies devouring the inhabitants of a village one by one while her mind tortured her with replays of what she'd just done, and the next, she was staring at a pair of green eyes.
No!
With a start, she threw herself backwards, only to realise she was floating in the blackness of space, stark naked, and the eyes were floating after her.
Leave me alone!
A cruel laugh encircled her and took on solid form around her body – a snake – some kind of giant python squeezing the life out of her, and then it shattered into a million little snakes that slithered across her body. She couldn't figure out if her skin was crawling because of the snakes or her repulsion.
Bile rose in her throat and she would have vomited were it not for the fact that she was scared shitless. Snakes found their way to her wrists and ankles, forming shackles around all of them,
somehow pinning her to the blackness. She was bound to nothing in outer space and her struggle for freedom only seemed to anger the snakes, which tightened their hold on her.
The green eyes hovered in front of her, about two heads higher than her, then the blackness shimmered around them and form materialised – masculine, muscular, cracked, grey.
“Careful now – my snakes like to bite.”
She could feel his laughter on her skin, heating it up. His fingers traced her chest, in the same way hers had Karl's earlier.
“Who's been a very naughty girl?”
“Leave me alone.” Her demand was made through clenched teeth that tried to hide her fear and exhaustion.
His fingernails scorched her as he raked them along her skin, again mimicking her own earlier actions. They flitted over her nipples and she gasped in both alarm and disgust as her body began to respond. Desire flitted through her like a mini electric shock. How the hell could such a monster have this affect on her?
“You're just like me – you belong to me.”
“No.” But her mind wouldn't move away from her own forced seduction upon her best friend, and her protest did not carry the conviction of the previous night.
“Did he beg you to stop or to carry on?”
From somewhere inside, a spark of anger came to life. “What did you do to me?”
“It's not something that's been done to you – it's something you are. Your magic is powerful.”
“It's not black magic.”
“Oh, but it could be.”
His hand travelled down her body. She knew where he was heading.
“I could show you how – you could be my queen.”
From very far away, she heard her name and it was enough to ignite her soul into fight mode. She fought for some kind of control. Elena – she was Elena. She was not evil. She concentrated on her name, trying to form it on her tongue. Instead she moaned when his fingers trailed beyond her curls and found her virgin opening.
“Elena...”
“Will you beg me to stop, or carry on?”
She bit her tongue, terrified the wrong words would roll off it if she dared to speak. The wrong words would mean he would have her permission to claim her, of this she was sure.
