Illicit Magic (Stella Mayweather Paranormal Series #1)

by Camilla Chafer

  Marc nodded. “It keeps everyone here safe. Sort of like an early warning signal.” But he didn’t say exactly what it was keeping us safe from.

  “I came in fine though. I didn’t have to say a password or anything.” I blushed when Marc laughed.

  “Magic recognises magic,” he explained simply.

  Étoile sat on a bench with another striking woman. “That’s Seren, her sister,” he said as the pair rose to greet me. Seren rested her hands lightly on my upper arms as she leaned in to kiss me briefly on both cheeks. It seemed they were both a tactile pair and I warmed to her instantly. She had the same slightly pointy, high-cheekboned face as Étoile but with a softer edge, framed with wavy hair that dusted her collarbone. She was a striking dresser too, but where Étoile seemed to favour darker colours, her sister wore a strapless maxi dress in a shade of sherbet orange.

  “Étoile has been telling me about you,” Seren said. “It seems you had a very exciting exit from your country.”

  “I wish it had been a little less exciting,” I confessed. “Fire bombs and chases don’t do much for my tranquility.”

  “If it makes you feel better, the fire service were able to put out your fire and your landlady was very pleased with her insurance claim. She’s thinking of retiring to the coast,” said Étoile.

  “A little bit,” I admitted. “But how do you know?”

  “We keep tabs. Besides, I thought you would want to know so you wouldn’t worry if she had survived or not.”

  “I think the old battleaxe could survive anything. I didn’t like her but I’m glad she wasn’t hurt.”

  “Hello!” A new voice called from behind us and I noticed Marc stiffen slightly. I turned round to see a woman about my age bound towards us. She stretched out her hand to shake mine in a friendly manner before seeming to surrender and embraced me in a hug instead. “You must be Stella? I’m Kitty Williams.” She nodded at Marc and her smile seemed to fall from her face just a fraction. He gave her a curt nod back.

  “Hi, Kitty,” I said.

  Kitty, like her name, was as cute as the proverbial button. That is, if buttons exuded sex appeal too. She was small, no more than five two, but tanned and toned with a curvy hourglass shape clad in shorts and a spaghetti-strap top. Bundles of bouncing curls clipped back with girlish bows fell to her shoulders,.

  “Stella, promise me that you won’t let Étoile and Seren monopolise you. Every other girl has a sister here and I have no one, so, I’m not afraid to say, I’m a little desperate for us to be friends. Say it will be so?” she cajoled.

  I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “It will be so.”

  Étoile and Seren had tipped their heads to one side as if listening to something and then inclined their heads slightly to smile at us. “We have seen,” said Étoile with Seren finishing, “and it will be so.” It was endearing rather than weird and I wondered if they made a habit of finishing each other’s sentences.

  “Well, now the psychics have said so,” said Kitty, linking her arm through mine. “It will be so and very glad I am, too. Shall I give you the tour?”

  “How much do they see?” I whispered as Kitty shooed Marc away, propelling me beside her before I had a chance to agree. When I looked over my shoulder, Marc gave me a little wave and shook his head.

  “Did Étoile not think to mention it? Probably not! They are quite powerful, both Étoile and Seren, and it all gets amplified the closer they are to each other. They can see the future, just glimpses, of course, but enough to see what will happen.”

  “Does everything happen the way they see it?”

  “Everything is subject to change,” said Kitty and it took me a moment to recognise that she was mimicking Étoile’s clipped voice before reverting to her own. “They see things the way they are meant to be at that moment in time. Of course, if something changes, some action or intention, then the future shifts too. They see more the closer they are together and it’s a very powerful tool. Right now, they saw us being friends, so unless you turn out to be completely revolting in the next few minutes, I think we can safely assume that we will be.”

  “And they can move themselves too. You know ... teleport?” I asked, looking for the right word.

  “Yes, though not that far now. They used to be able to shimmer right around the world in the blink of an eye but they are a bit more limited these days.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “There used to be three of them which made them very powerful as witches and sisters, but with just the two ... although they are strong, it’s a weaker circuit,” Kitty explained.

  “Is the other sister here?”

  “Oh, no.” Kitty looked shocked. “No, no.” Then she clamped shut and wouldn’t broach the subject again, making me wonder if anyone could tell me more than partial truths.

  After a few minutes, I changed tack. “What can you do?” I asked.

  “I can do things with the weather,” Kitty said after a moment and then giggled. “I’m like a weather station, I guess. No one has any idea if that is any use or not. I can manipulate things by confusing the air. I am, however, good at spells.”

  “As in chanting and rhymes?”

  “Oh no, I can’t rhyme. I don’t know why legend has it that witches have to rhyme to cast a spell; can you imagine what a bother that would be? What if I wanted to rhyme something with the word ‘orange’?” Kitty laughed. “David is teaching me spell-casting while Evan figures out what the weather bit means. It must mean something, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to do it, though Aunt Meg says she’s never had a better crop of fruit than since I’ve been here, so at least I’ve come in handy for that.”

  My garden tour took no more than half an hour with Kitty pointing out the fruit orchard and a set of white painted, wooden steps that led down to a beach on the other side of the garden. “It’s not private, as such,” said Kitty, “but there are no other houses on this stretch of shore and no one else really comes here so we think of it as ours.”

  From there, she took me back towards the house pointing out seating areas here and there and then back inside where I was shown where to find glasses and snacks in the kitchen. “Aunt Meg doesn’t like us to be on ceremony here. Mi casa es su casa and all that.” She showed me the half bathroom downstairs and where to find stationery and spare keys in the hall drawer in case I wanted to go out, though Kitty mentioned there wasn’t much to do in the town beyond a bar, a small library and a few shops and businesses. I didn’t mention Étoile had told me to not leave the property – that just wasn’t cool.

  In my room, she showed me where to find spare towels and bed linens and pointed out that she was just across the hall if I wanted anything else. Her name was being called downstairs and she smiled apologetically at me before hopping away to answer it.

  Alone again in my room, I collapsed on the window seat and after kicking off my shoes, rested my head on the window. I could just glimpse the sea from my perch and the sight of the waves lapping at the beach was mesmerising. I played with the catch and was surprised that the sash window slid up easily, as if it had been oiled recently, letting in the salty breeze so I could inhale it. I arranged the cushions behind my back and drew up my legs as I looked out at the infinite sea. I thought about all the events of the past couple of days and my new housemates. I wasn’t sure what to make of it all. Everything was so far out of my comfort zone.

  A knock at my door interrupted my reverie and I called, “Come in.”

  Marc ducked his head around the door. “I came to see if you were okay.”

  “I’m good, thank you.”

  Marc walked across the room and slid onto the seat with me as I drew back to give him room. He picked up my legs and put them across his lap. Taking one foot, he began to rub it absently.

  “So, you’ve met the whole crowd,” he said, kneading my sole as I rested my head against the wall, eyes partially shut to enjoy his familiarity. I wondered which part of me was totally okay wit
h letting him caress my feet. The part of me enjoying it suggested I shut up.

  “Yes.”

  “They’re an oddball group, but nice and it’ll be good for you to learn here. David’s an excellent teacher, Evan is ... well regarded.”

  “What do Étoile and Seren do here?” I asked, my heart giving a strange little leap at Evan’s name. He hadn’t seemed to think much of me and I wasn’t sure if I should feel insulted. It wasn’t like I chose to be here. I was surprised to find myself feeling hurt. “They don’t seem like students.”

  “They’re not. They pretty much live here and it’s a good base for them to come and go while they take on their missions. They’re away as often as they are here. We don’t have many witches of their calibre to spare so they help teach occasionally.”

  I frowned. “I thought Étoile said there were lots and lots of witches?”

  “Yes,” Marc agreed, “but not many with their power. We’re a dying breed.”

  I thought about that for a minute. “And what do you do, Marc?” I asked at last.

  He pushed his thumbs into the ball of my foot and sighed. “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean just that. I don’t know. I could do stuff when I was little and then, one day, it just went away. I couldn’t do anything anymore. No one knows why.”

  “Isn’t that a little strange?” I hadn’t meant magically – I knew from Étoile’s teasing that he hadn’t any magic of his own yet – but I’d let him roll with it.

  Marc exhaled through his nose and rested his head back against the wall. “My parents don’t really talk about it but I know they think it’s odd. I think they’re even a little embarrassed; but my father is certain one day it will ping back on just as quickly as it disappeared.” He talked about his magic like it was a faulty light switch. I wondered how long it had taken him to sound so offhand about the missing part of his being.

  “Do you want it to come back?”

  “It’s not easy,” Marc replied and I knew he had probably spent a long time thinking about it. “When you’re around people who can do all the weird and wonderful things that you should, in theory, be able to do too, it’s a little galling that you’re pretty much a regular guy who has to walk to get places and wait to find out what happens.”

  “I imagine there are a lot of people who would like to swap places with you right now.”

  Marc smiled. His thumbs massaged the balls of my feet and I could feel the warmth of his hands. “I hadn’t thought of it that way; that my being ordinary was something to be envied.”

  “So what do you do instead?”

  “I run around after people, making sure everyone has what they need, coordinate people, general logistics, that sort of thing.”

  Marc reached for me and I swivelled on the window seat so that I was sitting in between his legs as he drew me backwards to rest my head on his chest, wrapping his arms around me. He rested his chin lightly on my head and I wondered if he was smelling my hair. Thank goodness it was clean. He breathed deeply and my lungs rose and fell in line with his.

  “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through such a shitty time,” he said, breaking the brief silence between us.

  I tried to look on the bright side, the same way Marc had with his lack of magic. “Well, I wasn’t having the greatest time anyway,” I said, trying to show him that I really didn’t mind. That it was okay to have my whole life uprooted, tipped on its head, shook around a bit and then replanted a continent away. “Getting the box of stuff from my parents was pretty wonderful. It’s about one thousand times more than I’ve ever had of theirs.”

  “You don’t remember them at all?”

  “Fleeting memories here and there, like snapshots, but I don’t know if they are real memories or just stuff I saw on television or got from my foster parents. So, no, I don’t remember them at all. I was very little when they disappeared and I was found.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “It is. I wish I had known them and all about this world but they must have had their reasons to hide me before they disappeared.”

  “You think they’ll come back?”

  “No.” It was depressing to admit it but I had never thought they would come back. I’d always been certain of that. “I’m sure they are dead. Otherwise they would have found me by now. They were declared dead years ago. Steven gave me the paperwork.”

  “What do you think happened to them?”

  I had speculated about that for a long time during many lonely nights in my childhood. If my parents had died in an accident, they wouldn’t have felt the need to hide me with strangers. Besides, someone would have found car wreckage or bodies, or something to indicate what had happened. Something had to have been after them, perhaps the same people who had chased me only weeks ago, and that something would have been irreversible. I breathed and my voice, after so many years of speculation was steady. “I think someone, or something, killed them both.”

  “Life sucks.”

  “Not as much as death.” There wasn’t much turning back from that.

  Marc wrapped his arms closer around me and I snuggled into his warmth, feeling for all the world that I could drift off into a pleasant nap, feeling safe and cosseted in his arms while the sea breeze tickled us. The last few days had really wiped me out and I was looking forward to getting my energy levels back to normal.

  It was with a jolt that a knock stirred me. Apparently, we both dozed because the sun had dimmed a little and it was turning cold. Marc must have pulled a blanket over us because our legs were covered with a pink and grey checked wool cover. The knock sounded again and I blurrily called out, “Come in” as I rubbed my eyes with the backs of my knuckles to wake myself up.

  It was Evan who opened the door and scanned the room; when he eyed me, he scowled. “Meg sent me to tell you dinner was ready.” He sounded none too happy about it and glared at Marc who was rolling his shoulders in small circles but otherwise not moving. “I didn’t realise you weren’t alone,” he said somewhat stiffly.

  “I’ll be down in a minute,” I promised. “I won’t keep you all waiting.”

  “I doubt anyone will wait.” Evan muttered, shutting the door with a bang.

  “Is he always so charming?” I asked, shuffling myself away from Marc and standing up, my sleepy legs not quite so enthusiastic. I wondered if I should feel embarrassed that I had curled up and dozed off with him; it seemed a rather intimate thing to do with a guy I had known all of two days.

  “Always,” scoffed Marc and I wondered if they had some sort of history.

  I stretched and went to pull on a cardigan. The sea air was cool and since I didn’t know what temperature they liked to keep the house, I didn’t want to end up shivering at the dining table. Marc pulled the sash closed and folded the blanket on top of the cushions.

  “I can’t believe I fell asleep,” he muttered, and I could feel him watching me.

  “Me either. It’s been a funny few days and my sleep is all over the place.”

  “You’ll get used to the different time zone soon. And they do say sea air is good for you.” He opened my door and gestured to leave. “Shall we?”

  I followed Marc downstairs and he pointed out which room was his as we passed the closed door off the hallway. Then I followed him into the kitchen where everyone was seated around the big table. Big dishes of lasagne steamed in front of the assembled guests. There was a glass bowl filled with salad leaves in several shades of green and another plate piled with slices of garlic bread. Pitchers of orange juice and water sat at each end of the table and I could smell coffee too.

  Marc and I took the two remaining seats, next to each other and he held my chair while I sat, before sliding into his chair and taking a plate from Meg who was serving. She ladled a huge helping onto my plate and I inhaled the delicious fresh meat sauce and bubbling, cheese topping. I checked to see if everyone else was eating the garlic bread befor
e I took a slice, because I didn’t want to be the one that everyone avoided later. That would make life as the new girl awkward; not that I wasn’t used to that. Perhaps it was time to turn a new leaf, I hoped and the idea of making friends gave me a little surge of warmth.

  Having filled everyone’s plates, Meg was busily filling glasses and handing out mugs of steaming coffee.

  “How do you like the house, Stella?” she asked, setting a cup at my right hand and pointing to the sugar bowl.

  I swallowed my mouthful of lasagne. “It’s beautiful.”

  Meg beamed. “Why, thank you. My family have owned it for going on one-hundred-and-fifty years now. Thankfully, it’s a lot more modern now due to the more recent additions.” She poured coffee into Marc’s cup until the pot was almost drained then walked back across the kitchen to put it by the sink. For an old lady, she walked lightly with uncharacteristic grace. “It’s too big for just me though, so, once again, I’m very happy to have you all here.”

  Her words were met with hearty endorsement and I joined in as the glasses were held aloft in toast to Meg and clinked together. She flapped her hands at us to stop, but I could tell she was a little thrilled. The joviality quickly subsided as the food was devoured. I vacuumed up my helping and accepted a small second, not too worried whether I was coming across as piggish. I was hungry, tired, and mentally over stimulated with all the changes in my life. I felt good and ready to fall asleep for a very long time rather than resuming the series of catnaps I’d been relegated to. I refused the ice cream dessert and Kitty proposed watching a film which led to a long discussion over choices.

  “Practical Magic,” suggested Christy but her sister, Clara, shivered and replied, “Don’t you remember the time that Gran accidentally brought that dead guy back to life? Too close for comfort.” I was so not going to ask about that.