To Spell With It

by Amanda M. Lee

  “That doesn’t explain what happened to me last night.”

  “It doesn’t,” he agreed. “Except ... you were asleep.”

  I waited for him to expound. When he didn’t, I let my irritation out to play. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “The others were clearly approached when they were awake,” he responded. “That means they were hypnotized.”

  I hadn’t considered that. “Do cupids hypnotize people?”

  “Definitely. That’s how we operate. You, however, were only approached while you were sleeping. I think that’s on purpose. Someone is trying to invade your mind when your guard is down. The only time you might be open to suggestion is when you’re under.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. “Why go after me at all?”

  “Oh, come on.” His eyebrows drew together. “You can’t be serious. You’re one of the most powerful beings on this island. We knew that before you surrounded yourself in magical bubble wrap last night. Your powers are growing exponentially. I can’t wait to see what you’ll do next. It’s exciting.”

  It wasn’t all that exciting to me. “How could someone else know that? Only a few people in our inner circle know.”

  “People talk. Gossip spreads. News of what happened with the cult was too big to contain. I’ve heard whispers, Hadley. Your grandmother was a powerful witch. You might be more than that ... which brings me to another option on what’s going on. You could be a super bruja.”

  He said the words as if I should understand them. “Excuse me?”

  He chuckled. “In olden times, powerful witches who were more than normal witches were called beldams. Over the years, that term has been corrupted and people picture old, craggy women who can barely stand, cursing people with eye of newt. That is not a good description.”

  He had my attention now. “I guess I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. You were raised outside this world. Still ... you’ve manifested some interesting abilities. It makes me wonder what you would be able to do if you were raised on this island.”

  “May mentioned it before — and Galen, for that matter. She said that the island can amplify magic. Do you think that’s true?”

  “Do I think the island itself is magic? Not necessarily. This isn’t Lost. Do I think the convergence of paranormals on this island is a coincidence? No. Something calls to us here. There’s an underlying current of … something. I think the island is a part of all of us, including you.”

  I debated how far I wanted to press the issue. “What does being a super bruja mean?”

  “Most witches have one or two powers they can call to regularly. You seem to have no limit to the number of powers you can call.”

  “I’ve only done a few things,” I argued.

  “True, but you’ve done those things under duress. That seems to indicate you haven’t tried to control your magic. You’ve just let it take over when you were in need and required help.

  “If you were to truly explore your abilities, I think you’d find you can do almost anything,” he continued. “It would take practice and hard work, but I have no doubt you could be the stuff of legends if you put your mind to it.”

  I wasn’t sure that was a compliment. “Are you saying I’m not the stuff of legends now?”

  He chuckled. “I’m saying that you haven’t been here that long and you’ve got plenty of time to figure things out. There’s no reason to get worked up. We’ll figure it out.”

  “You still haven’t explained how being a super bruja — and I’m not sure I like that term — explains what happened last night.”

  “See, that’s the thing.” He turned serious. “I talked to Aurora before she disappeared back into the ocean. Apparently she doesn’t like all the cupids hanging around.”

  “She told me.”

  “She said that whoever was outside the lighthouse was definitely a cupid. The smell is rather obvious. She also said the scent was off. I’m wondering if whoever is after you is more than a cupid.”

  I finally caught up to what he was trying to say. “Like ... half cupid and half something else that can control people?”

  He smiled. “Now you’re thinking. That’s exactly what I was considering.”

  “What other creature can control people’s minds and make them kill themselves?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been giving it a lot of thought and have come up empty so far. We might need to do some research.”

  “I’m confused. I thought only full cupids were allowed to play in your conference games. If this creature is only half-cupid, how did he or she manage to get this far up the cupid ladder?”

  “That’s a very good question. I don’t have an answer. I don’t even know we’re dealing with a hybrid. We could simply be dealing with a mutant cupid whose magic is somehow malfunctioning.”

  “How do we find out?”

  “I don’t know.” Booker turned thoughtful. “Galen asked me to look around the lighthouse grounds to see if I had any ideas about setting traps. I’m not sure what we can do, but I’m not going to leave you vulnerable.”

  “You sound like him.”

  “We don’t always fight. Some things we agree on. Keeping you safe is one of them.”

  “He’s afraid.” The words hurt coming out. “I don’t like it when he’s afraid.”

  “Caring about someone makes you vulnerable. Galen has never been the vulnerable sort ... until now. He wants to control everything, but realizes there’s very little he can truly control where you’re concerned. He won’t feel better until we figure out who’s doing this.”

  “Then I guess we should probably get on it.”

  “Definitely. Between May’s books and scouring the yard, I figure we can keep ourselves busy for most of the day.”

  Oddly enough, his gung-ho attitude made me feel better. Being proactive was always better than sitting back and waiting for something terrible to happen. At least if we were moving forward we wouldn’t constantly be looking over our shoulders.

  12

  Twelve

  Galen texted twice after he left and then stopped in at mid-morning. He had a box of doughnuts in his hand, which he immediately handed off to Booker. It looked like a peace offering of sorts. I was convinced I would never understand the strange bonding rituals of men.

  “What are those for?” I asked, peering around Booker for a better look. There were three cake doughnuts with chocolate frosting and sprinkles — my favorite — which meant he had me in mind when he selected them. “Can I have one?”

  Booker slid me a sidelong look. “Seriously? He’s bribing me, but he filled the box with your favorites. I’m pretty sure they’re for you.”

  “They’re for both of you.” Galen made a face as I selected a doughnut. “I just wanted to stop by and make sure there were no noses out of joint because I asked you to come over.”

  “Basically, you’re saying that you want to make up now rather than later if we’re going to fight.” I bit into my doughnut and moaned softly. “Oh, wow. They’re still warm.”

  He grinned at me when I spoke with my mouth full. “Is it any wonder I’m desperate to keep you safe? I mean ... you’re pretty, witty and oh, so classy.”

  I ignored the dig and allowed him to kiss me. I was more interested in the doughnut, but if he felt the need to stop by the lighthouse hours after he left, the fear had to be threatening to take him over. I didn’t want that. “I am classy,” I agreed as I pulled off part of the doughnut and shoved it toward his mouth. “I’m so classy I’m not going to jump all over you for calling a babysitter when I don’t need one.”

  He accepted the doughnut bite but kept his eyes on me. He waited until he finished chewing to speak. “I’ll keep you safe through any means necessary. I’m not going to apologize for it.”

  “I didn’t say you needed to apologize. Besides, Booker and I have been doing some talking and we’ve come up with a few hun
ches.”

  “Oh, really?” Galen cocked an eyebrow and then reached into the doughnut box to grab a cinnamon twist. “Do you want to share them?”

  “Sure.” We sat at the kitchen table and talked over coffee and doughnuts. Galen nestled his knee against mine and listened intently. When we were done he looked more thoughtful than blown away. “It’s an interesting idea.”

  “Which one?” Booker asked. He was busy dunking a plain doughnut in his coffee. I happened to find that habit disgusting. He was helping me, though, so I decided to keep my opinion to myself.

  “All of them.” His eyes flicked to me. “I’m especially interested in the one about Hadley being a super bruja.”

  “I think we should come up with a different term,” I argued. “That one sounds a little too Justice League.”

  Galen bobbed his head. “Sure. What term would you like?”

  “Wonder Witch.”

  He smiled. “Will you wear a skimpy outfit and tie me up with a lasso if I call you that?”

  “Oh, don’t get all gross in front of me,” Booker complained. “I’m already at my limit with all the cupids here. I can’t take you two verbally copulating in front of me, too.”

  Galen snickered as I shot Booker a sympathetic look.

  “We’re sorry,” I offered.

  “I’m not,” Galen countered. “I had to listen to you verbally copulating with Marie Lincoln in high school. Oh, and Susie Barton ... and Michelle Graves ... oh, and Lemon Langford.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Who names their kid lemon?”

  “Stupid people,” Booker answered automatically. “She was stupid, too. The stupidity was rampant in that family.” He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “What do you suggest we do for the day? I think we should work to verify your hunches — especially if that leads us to our killer cupid — but I get the feeling you don’t want Hadley to leave the lighthouse.”

  Galen’s gaze was filled with trepidation when it landed on me. “I would prefer she stay here,” he said. “But she’s an adult. If she wants to head out, there’s nothing I can do to stop her.”

  I could read between the lines. He was basically saying, “I shall not be held responsible if you two idiots get yourselves in trouble.” I felt for him, but there was no way I could stay at the lighthouse now that I thought there was a possibility that there was some mutant cupid out there. “I think we should go down to the festival.”

  Galen narrowed his eyes. “Why? You’ve been to the festivals before. They’re nothing special.”

  “Hey, elephant ears are always special.” I jabbed my finger at him. “As for this particular festival, I think it’s likely that our culprit will be there. I was reading the brochure at Lilac’s bar yesterday and I happen to know they’re having a ‘meet your representative’ function in the main tent at noon.”

  Galen’s face remained blank. “So?”

  “So, I’m betting whoever we’re dealing with has ties to the bigwigs and will be there. Maybe we’ll be able to witness someone acting squirrelly.”

  “And maybe someone will go after you and hurt you.” Galen immediately started shaking his head. “I don’t like that idea. Can’t you do something else?”

  Ugh. He was starting to wear on me. The cuteness factor comes and goes at a fantastic rate sometimes. “I’ll be with Booker,” I reminded him. “Someone would have to be an idiot to go after me when I have another cupid as my sidekick.”

  Booker cleared his throat. “Um ... if we’re going to play that game, you’re going to be my sidekick. I’m Batman, not Robin.”

  I shot him a withering look. “And I’m Wonder Witch. You’re more like Cyborg than Batman.”

  “Oh, whatever.”

  Galen snickered as he glanced between us. He didn’t look happy at the prospect, but I knew he wouldn’t put his foot down and demand I stay at the lighthouse. We were constantly learning about one another ... and compromise. He knew I balked when someone tried to tell me how to live my life. Even though he was bossy, he reined in those urges all the time because he didn’t want to risk a blowup that would fundamentally change our relationship.

  “Do you promise to be careful?” he asked finally. It was obvious he was already resigned to the fact that I was going to do it. He was only pretending to go through the motions.

  “We’ll be careful,” I promised.

  “We will,” Booker agreed. “Besides, I think there’s a reason whoever is doing this approaches Hadley at night, when she’s sleeping. He or she — and I’m leaning toward a he — believes that she’s only approachable when her defenses are down. Our guy isn’t gutsy enough to do this in daylight.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Even so, I’m coming back this afternoon and adding some locks to the windows. The downstairs windows are already secure. The upstairs ones — well — let’s just say that someone on the inside trying to get out and hurting themselves was never a fear. I’ll have it fixed before I leave for the day.”

  Galen looked profoundly grateful. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it. I’ll keep you informed if we find anything of interest at the festival.”

  “That would be great.” Galen dragged a hand through his hair and grabbed another doughnut. Like me, he was a stress eater. During times of strife we could each put away our own pizza. “Watch your back while you’re there. More importantly, watch her back.”

  “I’ll keep her close.” Booker leaned back in his chair, a smug smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Not so close you’ll be jealous, though. I know how you get when I steal your women.”

  Galen growled. “I wouldn’t go there if I were you.”

  “You’re, like, zero fun now that you’re an adult.”

  “I can still take you.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  THE FESTIVAL WAS THE SAME as the two other Moonstone Bay festivals I’d attended. The same rides seemed to be permanently planted in the downtown park. The same game booths were spread from one end of the park to the other. The only difference was everything at this festival was accented in pink and red. It reminded me of Valentine’s Day ... if the holiday had exploded and thrown up all over everything.

  “I don’t mind the pink, but when you pair it with the red, it’s really garish,” I complained.

  Booker, who was keenly watching the crowd, snorted. “My mother hates a cliché ... unless it’s one she can use to her advantage. Darlene is trying to get the official cupid colors changed to blue and silver. My mother has suddenly embraced red and pink — even though she used to believe much the same as you — and now they’re locked in a fight to the death.”

  I was understandably confused. “Cupids have official colors?”

  “They do. The pink and red motif isn’t just a greeting card thing.”

  “Well ... that is odd.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Booker took his job as my protector seriously. His eyes continuously roamed the crowd and he made sure to keep me close as we cut through the fairgrounds. I was certain no one would be able to approach without setting off his danger alarm. That conviction allowed me to relax enough to truly watch the participants.

  “Is everyone here a cupid?” I asked.

  “Pretty much. I see a few locals, but I’m guessing they're here because of the cupid pheromones.”

  That was a freaky thought. “Aurora mentioned that she was careful around cupids because she was especially susceptible. Is that a siren thing?”

  “Pretty much. Sirens and cupids don’t mix. Air and water. You know how that goes.”

  I’d never really thought about it. “She also said sirens and cupids burn out on each other and end up fighting all the time. What’s that about?”

  Booker chuckled, seemingly amused. “It’s a byproduct of the pheromones. Sirens can entice people, too, don’t forget. Those stories of sirens luring sailors to their deaths? Those are true.”

  “And why did the
y kill sailors?”

  “For sport. The thing is, sirens and cupids aren’t that different. They have a lot of the same abilities. Cupids can control sirens, though, and the sirens don’t like that. Sirens eventually fight off the lure of cupids. When that happens, all that lust is burned away and the only thing that’s left is fury.”

  I was intrigued by the premise. “I’ve always thought of cupids affecting the mood of people in a positive way. Even after I found out you guys were real, I never stopped thinking along those lines. Now, with people dying, I’m starting to think there’s a lot more than that lurking under the surface.”

  “There is. You should be glad you’re immune.”

  “We don’t know I’m immune to everything,” I hedged. “Galen did find me by the window two nights in a row.”

  “And I guarantee Galen will make sure that doesn’t happen again.” Booker was firm. “I might not always agree with the man — and messing with him is something of a favorite hobby of mine — but he’s good at his job. He’ll die before he lets something happen to you.”

  There was fire in his eyes when he uttered the declaration.

  “I don’t want him to die. Not even to save me.”

  “I don’t think you have a choice in the matter. Are you saying you wouldn’t die for him?”

  The question made me uncomfortable. “I’ve never really thought about it.”

  Booker let loose a dismissive snort that got under my skin and rankled. “You almost died yesterday because you refused to let a stranger drown. Are you really going to argue this point with me?”

  I wanted to on pure principle. He was right, though. “No.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and furrowed my brow when the sound of two voices — both female and both shrill — assailed my ears.

  “I saw it first!”

  “No, I saw it first!”

  I tracked my eyes to one of the flea market booths on the east side of the fairgrounds. There, two women I didn’t recognize appeared to be arguing over a piece of jewelry.