I couldn’t help it. The scream shot from my throat before I even considered what a bad idea that was.
Seconds later, my door flew open. Étoile and Kitty reached me at the same time and were looking aghast at the mess and then to me.
“What’s going on?” asked David, appearing behind them, rubbing his eyes and I was sorry that I had woken them all. Evan shoved past him and came to stand next to Kitty. He had paused to throw on jeans but otherwise his chest and feet were bare. If I hadn’t been so frightened I’d have appreciated the picture a bit more. The sudden noise brought Seren sleepily to the door too and I heard feet bound up the stairs. Oh, great. Marc.
“Someone has been in my room,” I said, somewhat obviously, in dismay, to my pyjama-clad crowd.
“Were they here?” asked Evan, his voice thunderous.
“No. No, they left before I found this.”
“Where were you then?” asked Marc. He had pushed past David too and was standing in the door frame. Behind him, I could see David bobbing his head to try and see past. “If you weren’t here when they did this?”
“I was. I was, uh...” I couldn’t think past feeling so affronted that this was the only thing Marc could think to ask. Shit, where could I say I had been?
“She was with me.” Kitty said, simply. “We were talking late and Stella fell asleep on the sofa in my room. I didn’t have the heart to move her. We just woke up.”
I smiled gratefully at her and she returned it with ease, but I noticed that she quickly cast a glance at Evan who was surveying the scene. No one questioned my alibi, thankfully.
“Did anyone hear anything?” Evan asked, looking round. Christy and Clara had stumbled into the hallway and hovered next to David, who was inching his way forwards. Like everyone else, they shook their heads.
“It was thundering for most of the night,” said David, stifling a yawn. “You could have moved furniture and I wouldn’t have noticed.”
Étoile wrapped an arm around me. She was wearing the most elegant peach coloured pyjamas with her initials monogrammed on the pocket, though she had foregone her usual pristine makeup. “Is anything gone?” she asked.
“I don’t think so.” I didn’t have much so it only took a minute or two to establish that nothing I’d immediately notice was gone. I wasn’t sure whether to be thankful again for having so little. At least I could see everything I had, well, seeing as it was strewn across the floor. I couldn’t imagine anything of mine that anyone could possibly want.
“Everyone out,” said Evan, clapping his hands together to gain attention, and in full alpha male mode. “We’ll get things straightened up, then try and figure out what’s going on.”
“If I’m not wanted, I’m heading back to bed,” muttered David as he inched from the room. Evan was already shoving the mattress back into position and Kitty was helping him toss pillows back on the bed.
“Us too,” said Christy as she and her sister both goggled at Evan’s bare chest with unabashed admiration. Seren all but manhandled them from the room.
“I’ll stay and look after Stella,” said Marc stepping towards me. Kitty stood in his way. “I think we should make her a tea. Tea, right, Stella? Something warm for the nerves?”
“Yes, thanks, I’d appreciate that,” I agreed, sensing that Kitty thought Marc should be out of the room. He looked thunderously at me but didn’t object to Kitty giving him a gentle shove that left Étoile, Evan and I facing each other.
“Well,” said Étoile. She looked from Evan to me with humour. “Well, hmmm.”
“Do you see anything?” I asked.
“Not of the past, I’m sorry Stella, I don’t know who would do this but I’m glad nothing seems to be missing.” She gave me a gentle squeeze and whispered very delicately in my ear. “He’s a good man. Always remember that. No matter what happens.” She was gone before I could ask her to explain.
Evan was regarding me. He nodded at Étoile’s fleeting back. “What did she say?”
“Oh, nothing,” I waved it off. The door was still open as Evan helped me straighten up the room, pushing in drawers as I rehung my clothes in the closet. I didn’t quite have the heart to admire his torso as he bent and stretched; the way I felt, it would have been a waste of a good ogle.
“Listen, will you stay with me a moment while I get dressed?” I knew I’d jump at the slightest sound and be more comfortable if he stuck around.
Evan grinned. “Absolutely.” From across the room he closed the door with a sweep of his hand.
“I’m not giving you a thrill. I just want to change into something clean.” I’d already pulled fresh jeans and a checkered shirt from the closet. I opened the just closed dresser drawer so I could pull out new underwear. It felt kinda gross having to wear underwear that someone had searched through in the night but I didn’t have a choice. I changed quickly and when I fastened my last shirt button, Evan pulled me close, resting his chin on the top of my head. I relaxed against him, my muscles feeling like jelly with worry.
“I’m not leaving you. Try not to worry about this. We’ll work it out.”
“I know. I just don’t get what whoever it was could have been looking for.”
“Go downstairs. Meg will be making breakfast. Have that tea Kitty is getting you and try not to think about it. I’ll be down in five. I promise.”
“I don’t want to be on my own.” I felt like whimpering. Pull yourself together, I told myself. You’ve survived all kinds of crap, you can survive a burglary. But the other part of my mind whispered a warning.
“You’re not. Go right downstairs. Everyone is awake now and you’re safe.” Evan kissed my hair and I was glad he couldn’t see my lip tremble.
I wanted to tell Evan how glad I was that I spent the past night with him, instead of being here where maybe something awful could have happened. At once, I felt guilty. It wasn’t like Evan was my guard when there was so much more, I hoped, between us; but instead I just nodded, grabbed my sweater, and followed him from the room. Downstairs, I could hear the sounds of breakfast being prepared in the kitchen. Meg was singing a show tune I recognised. It had been a big hit back when films were first in glorious Technicolor.
Evan left my room right behind me and, after a gentle push towards the stairs, he walked the few long strides back to his room. For the first time since I had been at the house, I turned back and locked the door before I went downstairs.
TEN
Breakfast was quiet with everyone critically appraising their cutlery or in a deep fug, rather than the usual morning chatter that mixed with the sounds of the coffee perking or the sizzle of Meg’s pans on the stove. I sat in the centre of it all, feeling strangely uncomforted despite being surrounded by my brethren, my sisters and brothers in arms. Wands, even. I stifled a slightly hysterical snigger. Under the table, I felt Evan’s hand press against my leg and I slipped my hand over his as David walked into the room. He rubbed his eyes and yawned widely before patting me on the head.
Meg hovered around the table like a confused butterfly, every once in a while exclaiming “in my own house” or “well, I never” and sighing heavily. She baked muffins in several flavours but there wasn’t the usual vulture-like appetites that normally welcomed her sweet surprises; we picked at them morosely instead. Even the taste of warm chocolate chips melting on my tongue couldn’t cheer me up and that was definitely one of my go-to happy places. I almost felt guilty for waking everyone up until I gave myself a little internal kick and a reminder that I hadn’t asked to have my room rifled. And just who the hell had gotten into the house? It wasn’t just a case of jimmying a window or a lock. Wards protected the house too. Judging by their faces, I could only imagine everyone else must have been thinking the same thing.
I stayed distracted all morning; my shimmering wouldn’t come under control and my one and only bout of telekinesis brought every single book from the library shelves crashing in a heap on the floor. Eventually, Evan, with a sweep of his ha
nd, restored the library to its perfection again in a few seconds. He told me to take a walk in the garden and that we would try again in the afternoon.
I didn’t have the heart to be disappointed in my failure as I went outside. I was just glad to have a free moment to think. In the back of my mind, I was calculating my few possessions and where they had been in my room before it was ransacked. My clothes were in the closet and the dresser, my little bits of jewellery on the top. A few items of makeup and toiletries were in the bathroom and they couldn’t possibly have been of significance so I discounted them immediately.
The only things that I had that could possibly have been of interest were the contents of the blue box with the papers and deed my parents left me. My new driver’s license and bank card sat in the same drawer. But I checked the box and nothing seemed to be missing, not that I could remember an exact inventory.
No, whoever had gone into my room uninvited had to have been looking for something else, something small that I might hide, but what? What could have been hidden under a mattress or in a loose floorboard or behind a chair? Think, I urged myself, think! It did no good; I just didn’t have anything to hide. Whatever the burglars had thought I might have of interest didn’t exist and I couldn’t put a finger on what they might have wanted. The only thing I could conclude was that they thought I had something that I hadn’t. Or maybe they weren’t looking for anything at all. A new thought stream pinged into my head. Maybe they just wanted to frighten me now as I’d begun to feel safe.
Minutes later, another thought occurred to me. Perhaps they simply wanted me to know that they knew I hadn’t slept in my room that night. That worried me more than the idea that someone had been there to steal.
Earlier, it had flickered through my head that if I had been there, perhaps I would have been dead by now,. But if the intention had been to kill me, there would have been no need to muss up my room. They would have seen my smooth bed was unoccupied and could have closed the door and gone without my being any the wiser.
So if the break-in wasn’t to harm me, it left just three possibilities: They must have been searching for something they thought I had; or, they just wanted to let me know they had been there when I wasn’t; or, finally, they just wanted to frighten me. The first was perplexing, the second and third were just creepy.
“I don’t know what to think,” I muttered, with only the flowers to hear me.
I hadn’t really taken notice of where I was walking so when I ended up near the orchard that Meg was so proud of, I was a little surprised at my absentmindedness. All the same, I dropped onto the bench that overlooked the fruit trees so I could sit and ponder my unpalatable thoughts. The breeze was barely there but I could just smell the faintest hint of salty sea air. It seemed strange to find an orchard so close to the sea; Kitty’s weather magic must have a lot to do with the success of the fruit, I decided.
Half an hour later, “You look lost in thought.” Evan thudded onto the bench beside me and slipped his arm around my shoulders to pull me close. I’d been so lost in thought I hadn’t even noticed his footsteps – but then, maybe he’d used magic to locate me. I rested my head against his chest and listened to his heart beating.
“I was trying to decide what ransacking my room would achieve.”
“What did you come up with?” He was curious but I knew he was thinking about it too.
“Three theories.” I repeated the two obvious ones to Evan and he nodded thoughtfully.
“Both sound possible. What’s the third?”
“Someone wanted to make sure that I knew that they knew that I wasn’t in my room that night. All night.” I emphasised.
“You think someone knows about us?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I’m not sure anyone would be that upset,” Evan replied. “Except Marc. He hasn’t decided whether he has a thing for you or not.”
“I think not.” His words on the beach had been pretty clear and he hadn’t spoken to me much since he’d gotten back from New York. He hadn’t been at breakfast this morning either. It occurred to me that I barely even spared a thought for him either; especially not since the night I’d gone to Evan and been welcomed so pleasurably.
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Evan sounded cautious and when I looked up, I followed his line of sight and saw Marc striding towards us. Evan slipped his arm away and stood up.
“What do you...” but before he could finish, and before I could yelp, Marc had swung his arm back and brought his fist crashing into Evan’s jaw. Evan staggered backwards, knocking into me as I jumped up behind him. When he steadied himself, and made sure I was still upright, he gingerly felt his split chin with his fingers. As he pulled them away, there was a trickle of blood on both his chin and fingertips. He looked at the blood curiously.
“What the hell, Marc!” I yelled, jumping forward. The energy surging in me suggested I knock him flat on his ass, or over the cliff edge.
“You fucking scumbag,” snarled Marc, taking another swing, only to be glanced away like a fly as Evan casually raised his forearm to block the punch. Marc stood there, his fists curling and uncurling. “You couldn’t keep your hands off her for a minute?”
“Hold on, kid.” Evan tore his gaze away from the blood drops and huffed. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he was amused.
“Hold on, kid?” Marc mimicked with a sneer. “How long has this been going on?” He waved a hand towards me.
“Long enough that I don’t have to answer to you,” Evan deflected, before taunting, “Longer if you take a peek inside Étoile’s head.”
I looked up at him curiously and he gave me a tight smile. So Étoile had seen how things would turn out before even I had known; maybe even from the day I had met him ... or before. But how had Evan known that? And when?
“Marc, whatever has been going on between Evan and me has nothing to do with you.” I stepped between them as if my body would be a barricade, not that it would matter if Evan decided to retaliate. He wouldn’t need to throw a physical punch because I was sure a magical one would pack a whole lot more impact. Marc would have no chance against either. All the same, I was adamant. “Absolutely nothing.”
“What about us?”
“There never was an “us”. You told me that yourself. We’re friends. Nothing more. We both know that.”
“There sure as hell won’t be now.” Marc backed off a step but he was still shaking with adrenaline and his face was etched with anger and, I thought with a start, disgust.
“You already made the decision,” I reminded him as gently as I could. I didn’t play games; I didn’t read minds. Marc had already told me very succinctly that any romantic ideas I might have had towards him were misplaced. And I found out very quickly that he was right. Yes, I had kissed him and I felt close to him but that was because I’d been uprooted to a place where I knew nobody. In my loneliness, it would have been easy for me to feel that there was more affection than friendship, until I thought about it properly. He could never make me feel the way I felt when I looked at Evan, not to mention when I was with him. Apparently Marc hadn’t been quite so decided about his own feelings. “And I’m with Evan because I want to be with him. I’m happy.”
“He’s not like us,” Marc hissed, his eyes flashing from Evan to rest on me. “You shouldn’t be with his sort.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” I shook my head and followed that up with a shrug of my shoulders.
“He’s not one of us. His kind is nothing but trouble. You should stay away from him.”
“Marc, back off,” Evan hissed his warning.
Marc dragged his eyes over Evan and he stared at him, his chin jutting upwards defiantly. He avoided looking at me as he faced Evan, scorn etched across his face. “You should know better. A witch and your kind? Since when has that ever worked?”
“I know what I’m doing,” I said softly. I was still standing between them and I could feel Evan’s hands l
ightly squeezing my shoulders. The merest touch from him was reassuring and kept my magic simmering at a level that it wouldn’t erupt without my permission.
“I doubt that very much,” Marc sneered as he stepped backwards before veering away from us to stomp towards the house without a second glance.
I pulled a tissue from my pocket and folded it in quarters as I turned to reach up and apply it to Evan’s bleeding chin.
“He packs one hell of a punch,” said Evan, his fingers closing over mine. “Thankfully, I heal fast.”
“You should probably sit down for a minute all the same. That was a nasty gash. If you faint and land on me, I’m done for!”
“Might be quite fun though.” Evan waggled his eyebrows at me.
“To be crushed by over six feet of muscle? Uh-uh.” I shook my head.
Evan obediently sat back down. He took the paper tissue from his chin and I watched in awe as the skin knitted itself back together, leaving nothing more than a thin line that paled and went away.
“Self-healing runs in the family,” he said. “It comes in handy. You would not believe how accident prone I was when I was younger.”
“You don’t seem like the accident prone type.” I looked at him sceptically, wondering if that was how fast a minor cut healed, what caused those long scars that still remained?
“I’m not anymore.”
“What do you think all that was about?” Evan pulled me to him and rested his head against my stomach for a moment while I stood, gently stroking the top of his head.
“He might be pissed that you’re with me, but I think there’s something that runs deeper. He’s angry about more than just you and me.”
“You think?”
Evan nodded. “I also think he wants to protect you and can’t, though I don’t know why. He sees me as a threat or an obstacle. He would probably be a good friend to you though, if he could stop behaving like a jealous teenage boy.” He thought for a moment. “So, you are happy with me.” It was more a statement than a question.
Illicit Magic (Stella Mayweather Paranormal Series #1) Page 21
